Memoirs of Orange Jacobs

by Orange Jacobs

While wandering through the valley of the Clearwater and the adjacent hills, I was much struck with the wonders of petrification. I saw huge fir-logs, petrified. I can never think of what I then saw without recalling a story which I heard while delegate to Congress, and at Washington City. Congress always makes liberal appropriations for the investigation of the flora and fauna, and the mineral indications, as well as the water supply or rainfall, in the territories, and in the desert portions of the United States. Rugged old Ben Wade, while a Senator from Ohio, always opposed these appropriations as a waste of the people's money in what he styled, bug-hunting expeditions. Two scientists, eminent for their learning, and known as Major Hayden and Captain Powell, were usually employed in these explorations. The Major was said to be something of a martinet, while the Captain was an excellent judge of human nature, and had plenty of what the Philosopher Locke called "round-about common-sense." While on one of these scientific exploring expeditions these two gentlemen were in the mountains near Pike's Peak. That country abounds in fine specimens of petrification. One day the Major met a company of miners, and related to them the wonderful specimens of petrification seen by him that day. The miners listened with eloquent, but I fear insincere, attention to the Major's statement. When he had concluded, one of them said: "If you will go with me, Major, to the other side of the ridge, I will show you a specimen of petrification that discounts anything you have seen today." The Major listened while the miner said, that at the base of a nearly perpendicular wall of rock, extending upward several hundred feet, there was an Indian with a rifle in his hand pointing at an angle upward towards the rock; that both Indian and rifle were petrified; that the smoke around the muzzle of the gun was petrified; and, what was more wonderful, that a short distance from the muzzle of the gun a cougar was petrified right in the air. The Major showed some uneasiness as the story proceeded, and said at its conclusion: "I was inclined to believe you when you began, but now I know you are lying." The miner softly put his hand to his pistol, but, relenting, said: "You are a tenderfoot and I forgive you; but why did you say I was lying?" "Because," said the Major, "I know that the laws of gravitation would bring that cougar down." "The laws of gravitation be damned," said the miner, "they were petrified too."

I visited Oregon City with my friend, and observed the beautiful falls of the Willamette and the waste of electrical and mechanical power. Returning to his humble home, I bade him the next day a regretful good-bye, and with my horses started for a point in Mill Creek Valley, six or seven miles south of Salem, to the home of a friend with whom I became acquainted on the plains. This friend had taken up a claim, and I found him busily engaged in the erection of a building which might be styled in architecture as a midway between a dwelling house and a cabin. He had determined, as soon as this structure was completed, to go to the mines in Southern Oregon. I also concluded to try my luck in digging for gold. In the latter part of October, 1852, in company with two other gentlemen, we started for the mines in Rogue River Valley, Southern Oregon. The habitations in the Willamette Valley at that time were few and far between. Large bands of Spanish cattle roamed over, and found ample food in the upper portion of the valley. It was dangerous for a footman to pass through that country. On horseback he was safe. But little of interest occured on this trip. My friend claimed to be and he was an expert rider. He had a large and powerful Spanish horse as his riding animal. While in the Umpqua Valley he mounted this horse one morning without saddle or bridle on a steep hill. The horse viciously resented this breach of etiquette and plunged with stiff-legged vaults downward and sideways on the steep incline, throwing his rider over his head. The rider struck with his full weight and the momentum of the horse's motion, on his right hand, throwing the small bones, to which some of the muscles of the inner arm are attached, out of their sockets at the base of the palm of the hand. The tendency was for these muscles still further to contract—thus aggravating his injury. The nearest doctor was fifty miles away. Upon examination, I concluded that these small bones ought to be forced into their proper place, if possible, before inflammation intervened. We accordingly placed the injured man upon his back on the ground, and as the operation would be very painful, the others held him securely while I forced these bones back into their sockets. Then we bound the wrist tightly, so as to keep them in place. When we arrived at the Doctor's he, after an examination, complimented me highly for my surgical skill, and gave me credit for saving the wrist of the injured man. On our way to the mines we passed through what is known as the Canyon in the mountain-spur that separates the Umpqua country from the Rogue River county. People now passing through this canyon scarcely appreciate the difficulties attending the passage which then existed. The canyon is formed by two streams, both heading in a small pond or lake at the summit of the mountain; the one that flows northward is called Canyon Creek. It was then crossed eighty-four times by the road. The other stream flowed southward and was crossed by way of the road over sixty times. In the rainy season, and especially when the mountains were covered, or blockaded with snow, the passage was almost impossible. The passage was strewn with the wrecks of wagons and the bones of horses and mules. Subsequently, Congress made an appropriation of $40,000 for a military road through this mountain gorge. This money was faithfully expended by General Hooker. The distance through the canyon is about nine miles. General Hooker built the military road on the side of the mountain. In quite a number of places you can sit in the stage and look down into a nearly perpendicular and sunless abyss hundreds of feet in depth. Large sums of money have since been expended by toll corporations, to keep this military road passable and in repair.

We arrived at Jacksonville, in Southern Oregon, in the first part of November.

To a person who prior to that time had always been accustomed to a different order of society, and who had never visited the mines in the palmy days of California, a new social order was manifest. I state the facts and the impression they made upon me as a tenderfoot; but I ought to add that since that time, having become somewhat familiar with such scenes, my moral sense has toughened, so that my ability to "endure" is far greater now, than then, though my judgment as to the ultimate moral result of such a social order has never changed.

There were in Jacksonville and its immediate vicinity from seven to eight thousand men, possibly more. The coat as an article of dress had fallen into "innocuous desuetude." Soft slouch hats were universally worn. There were but a few women, and most of them not angelic. The mines were rich, money was abundant, and gambling rampant. I ought not to omit the dance-halls that pointed the lurid way to perdition. I said that money was abundant; I do not mean by this that much United States gold coin was in circulation. There was a five-dollar gold piece that had its origin in Oregon. It was stamped on one side with the words "United States of America," and on the reverse side with the impress of a beaver; hence, it was called "beaver money." It was of the same size of the minted half-eagle, but contained more of gold. The other piece of money in circulation was octahedron in shape or form. It was stamped on one side the same as the beaver money, and on the reverse side were the words "Fifty Dollars." It contained more gold than the same weight of minted coin; but the money used in nearly all transactions was gold dust; hence, every merchant, saloonkeeper or gambler had his gold scales at command. Gold dust had a standard value of sixteen dollars per ounce, and purchases were paid for in gold dust. There was some silver in circulation, but the lowest denomination was twenty-five cents. A drink of milk, glass of beer or any other liquor, was twenty-five cents. Sunday was partly a laundry day, but mostly a gala day. Mining ceased on that day. All came to town to see the sights, to hear the news, to try their luck at the gambling tables, or to purchase supplies for the coming week. This day was a harvest day for the gambler, the saloonkeeper, and the merchant. While there was a large quantity of alcoholic beverages consumed, drunkennes was at a minimum. Nearly everyone carried a pistol in his belt, and a sheath-knife in his boot. Homicides were not frequent; this was due to the character possessed by the great body of miners, who acted on the great law of honor, and to the fact that to call a man a liar or to impeach the honor of his origin, or to use towards him any epithet imputing dishonor, was to invite the contents of a pistol into the accuser's physical economy. The laws of chivalry and honor were the only laws obeyed in such matters. This kind of society, rough and uncouth in its exterior, had a strong basis in the nobler principles of a chivalric manhood. It had also a poetic side, being composed principally of young men; it did not suppress the finer impulses and feelings of their better nature. As an illustration: there was located in the valley a family, consisting of husband and wife and two children. They had quite a number of cows and kept milk for sale. A large number of young men used to visit this family every Sunday for the ostensible purpose of buying milk, when the real purpose was to see someone who had the form, the purity and the affection of a mother. When they left the humble abode of this mother, they talked of their own mothers, of home and its sweet recollections. The strong ligaments of a mother's love serves as a moral anchor to them in the billowy storms of life, even far away from that mother.

Personal property of great value, such as gold in sluice boxes, though unguarded, was perfectly secure. The sneak thief, the burglar and the robber were conspicuous by their absence. Probably the certainty, promptness and severity of the punishment deterred their visitation.

There were no churches in that mining town, and religious services were infrequent. I remember one incident in this line: A Methodist minister, by the name of Stratton, came over from California and notices were posted that he would preach the next Sunday. There was a large building in process of erection for a gambling-house on the opposite side of the street from the principal gambling saloon. The roof was on this new building and a large party of us, desiring to hear the Gospel again preached, fitted up this hall with seats from the unused lumber. The minister had a large audience, the seats were all filled and hundreds stood on the outside of the building. He was an able and eloquent man and presented the simple story of the Gospel in a very forcible and earnest manner. When he had concluded his sermon, the contribution-box was passed around and carried across the street to the gambling saloon, and they all contributed liberally, some of them dropping into the box a fifty-dollar gold piece. As soon as he had pronounced the benediction, two mounted auctioneers, one desiring to sell a horse, the other a mule, requested the audience to remain while they offered them bargains and cried the virtues of these animals. Most of the audience did remain and the bidding was quite spirited and animated; so you see that that congregation had an opportunity to hear the Gospel, to buy a horse or a mule, as each man's wants might demand.

Civil government had not been extended over that section of the country. The only system they had was the Alcalde system. This was borrowed from California, and by the Californians was borrowed from the mining jurisprudence of Spain. Every mining community of any considerable size had its Alcalde. He held his office by election, and his jurisdiction swept over the entire field of jurisprudence. There was no appeal from his judgments or decrees. Jacksonville and its mining community had such an officer; his name was Rogers. I think he was a lawyer, but had long since ceased to practice. He was a grey-headed and venerable-looking man. He administered the unwritten and the unclassified law of justice and equity as it appeared to him from the facts of each case heard by him. His judgments and decrees were promptly enforced; but there came a change. In the fall of '52 four men in the Willamette Valley formed themselves into a co-partnership for mining purposes, and with their horses and provisions went to Jackson Creek to try their fortune at mining. At first they were not successful. Provisions running low, they dispatched one of their number to the Willamette Valley with their horses to bring in an ample supply of provisions for the fast-approaching winter. This partner, sent on such a mission, became acquainted on his trip with a blooming damsel who had just crossed the plains. He made love to her; she reciprocated, and they were married. The season had far advanced when the honeymoon was over. He brought, however, on his delayed return an abundant supply of provisions. His partners during his absence, had located some claims, opened them and found them very rich. But on his return, while they accepted the provisions, they denied to him all accounting, and refused to acknowledge his interest in the new-found claims. He brought an action before the Alcalde for an accounting and for the affirmation of his interest in the claims. The Alcalde, after hearing and fully considering the facts of the case, granted both of the petitions. Up to this time I had had no employment in the case and had taken but a general interest in it. The defeated parties called a miners' convention, whose declared object was the election of a judge of appeals for that and other cases. My connection with the case commenced at this point. I was employed by the successful party before the Alcalde, and by others, to oppose this movement. At the appointed time nearly all of the miners of Jackson Creek and its vicinity assembled in convention at the appointed place. The feeling for and against the proposition was quite intensified. After the convention was organized I arose and with some trepidation addressed the large crowd. I was listened to throughout with silent and respectful attention. I took the position, first, that inasmuch as the machinery of civil government had not as yet been extended over that district of the country, the Alcalde system prevailed, and thousands upon thousands of valuable properties had changed hands by virtue of the Alcalde judgments and decrees and their enforcement, and the property rights of many were dependent upon the validity and stability of such judgments and decrees, all would be endangered by the proposed change; that his ministerial officers might be subject to prosecution; that under such circumstances we had better stand upon the records of the past,—records as old as the institution of mining in the United States. I further argued that if we attempted to complicate affairs by the election of a judge of appeals, and possibly by the institution of other tribunals for the correction of error, we turn a system simple in itself, and beneficent in its operations in the past, into a complicated farce. I argued in favor of the probability of the Legislature, when it extended its machinery of civil government over that section of country, passing an act validating the judgments and decrees or providing for a liberal mode and time for an appeal from them. My last point, omitting others, was that this movement had its origin in, and promotion by, the parties defeated in the Alcalde's court. If they had the power to secure a determination in favor of a court of appeals they certainly had power to elect the judge of appeals; that as this would be the first case to be heard by him, they certainly would not elect a judge who was not favorable to their interests; and that it had the appearance to me of a court organized to convict or to reverse. I pushed this point with every reason and every illustration and consideration that I could command. I appealed in conclusion to their native sense of justice and equity, and closed after speaking a little over an hour. I was roundly applauded. My opponent was what was known in the States as a pettifogger. I use this term not opprobriously. He was an old miner and possessed the power of rough-edged ridicule and philippics. He thought that the best way to answer my argument was to annihilate me. His description of a beardless tenderfoot coming all the way from Michigan to teach veteran miners what they ought to do, or ought not to do was certainly amusing, if not overdrawn by its exaggeration. He was frequently applauded by his side. When he was through the voting commenced. The contending forces arrayed themselves on each side of a line, with a space of four or five feet between them. The pulling and hauling across the space was continuous. After several efforts to make an accurate count, it was reported to the President that there was a majority of from three to ten in favor of the proposition. The next move was to select a judge of the court of appeals. This was soon accomplished. The judge so elected notified the parties of the time and place where the appeal was to be heard. At the appointed time I appeared and filed a written protest and demurrer to his jurisdiction. When I had finished reading them he promptly, and without hearing the other party, overruled both protest and demurrer. He heard the case anew and promptly reversed the judgment of the Alcalde. I think this was the only case the judge of appeals ever heard. Nothing but the dignity of the office remained. In after years I became well acquainted with said judge, but I never mentioned the subject to him. A more extended account of this affair is given in one of Bancroft's histories of the coast. The record or papers filed by me in this case, I have been informed, are in the archives of Jackson County.

Two incidents occurred late in the fall of '53 which as they are somewhat historical in their character and results, may bear narration. Rogue River Valley was unoccupied and afforded abundant pasturage for horses and mules and horned cattle. Some enterprising fellow had just pre-empted all of that portion of the valley west of Bear Creek, and received stock for pasturage on that pre-empted domain, at so much per head. Late in the fall, four fine American horses had been stolen from this pasture. The theft was immediately attributed by the owners, and by the keepers of the stock, to the Indians. A party of hot-headed fellows, headed by the owners of the lost horses, went to the Indian Ranceree on Rogue River and took four of its younger men as prisoners, or rather as hostages—threatening to kill them if the stock was not delivered within a week. The hostages were brought to Jacksonville and strictly confined until the time should elapse. This action created great excitement among the Indians, and to save the lives of their companions they hunted for the lost animals in every direction, but could find no trace of them. The Rogue River Indians gave it as their opinion that a band of Klamath Indians but recently in Rogue River Valley, on a trading expedition, had stolen the horses and driven them across the mountains to the Klamath Lake country. The fatal day arrived and the horses were unfound; and the determination was expressed by a large party of miners, reinforced by the gambling element, to carry the threat into execution. One of the Indians asked that he might talk to the whites before he was led out to execution. His request, after some considerable opposition, was finally granted. His speech was interpreted into English and ran, as far as I remember it, about as follows: He said that neither himself nor his companions had stolen the horses, and that they knew nothing about their loss; that the white man did not claim that they stole the horses, but they were to be killed because others had stolen the white man's horses, and neither they nor their friends were able to deliver them up to the white man; that the Indians had always treated the white man kindly—when he was hungry they gave him something to eat—but the white man had taken possession of their country, had driven the game far away into the mountains, had decreased the number of fish in the rivers and streams by muddying their waters, and had by the tramping of their horses and cattle destroyed the Kamas and Kouse upon which they largely subsisted and had entirely destroyed the grass and other seeds which they gathered in large quantities for food; that he felt like one wandering alone in the deep fog and dark timber on a mountain side, and he heard the voice of the spirits of his fathers calling to him "be quiet and brave; the Great Spirit will avenge you." He closed. Someone moved that the punishment be mitigated to whipping. I protested against any punishment at all, but voted for the mitigation. The motion carried; the poor innocent Indians were led away to receive the punishment; but I must say that the executioner of the sentence did not lay on the lash in a severe and brutal manner. The Indians were told to go; and they stayed not on the order of their going, but left with good speed. Such unjustified acts are pregnant with trouble, and the Indian war followed soon after.

There lies east of the southern portion of Rogue River Valley a wide slope of land free from timber and ending at the rim of the mountain, and beyond and easterly from which—there is a high mountain table land—covered with fine green timber, among which sleep verdant valleys whose arms extend like the radius of a star, in every direction. Some of these valleys are wet and marshy, while others are dry and produce a rich and abundant growth of bunch grass. There was a large number of stock pastured in this section of country. Occasionally a small band of the fattest and largest steers would mysteriously disappear from this range. The number disappearing increased each successive year. The cattle men became alarmed, and organized an armed and mounted patrol to keep guard and watch over their stock. In the fall of '51 it was reported that some five or six fine steers were missing from their accustomed range. A search was immediately made and the trail of the missing cattle discovered. It led over the rim into the mountain basin or plateau, above referred to and across a marsh, now, and from this circumstance, called Dead Indian Prairie, and up a narrow arm of the prairie to a mountain culmination in a lonely spot, surrounded on nearly all sides by a dense growth of tall chapparal brush. Here the carcasses of the cattle, also the bodies of three Indians were found, with all the indications that they had been recently killed. These patrol men said that they also found the meat of the slaughtered cattle on platforms, with a slow fire of hardwood still burning beneath them. Thus the process of jerking preparatory to packing was in full operation. They gave it as their opinion that the cattle had been stolen by Klamath Indians, and that a party of predatory Modocs came upon them a short time before the patrol men appeared, and, finding a good opportunity to supply themselves with food, shot down the Klamaths; but that before they could appropriate to themselves the booty, the whites made their appearance and the Modocs hid away in the chapparal brush. This theory was received by their employers as rational and satisfactory. In '58 I visited this country for the first time—having heard the story, I sought the spot where the tragedy occurred. There were still the bleached bones of the cattle and the whitened skeletons of three Indians. The platform was still standing, and the extinguished brands of charcoal and the ashes, of the vine-maple fire still existed.