Tempest in Silver

TODAY’S TRAVELER to Panamint sees a crazy quilt of bare foundations and ramshackle walls. He marvels, too, at the old brick mill which for almost 100 years has challenged decay and oblivion. But it is not what he sees that affects the traveler; it’s what he feels. As he stands on the road looking up Surprise Canyon which nestles unpretentiously on the Western slope of the Panamint Range, about 10 miles south of Telescope Peak, the years roll back. Breezes echo gruff, untutored voices, and there is a raucous clang as the 20-stamp mill’s witchery produces precious silver ingots for shipment to “Frisco,” fabled financial capitol of the 70s. The lizard on the big granite boulder is unimpressed that a bearded miner’s pick lay on this same rock many years ago. And now, one looks vainly on the old dirt road for tracks of heavily-loaded desert burros. They’re gone just like the silver city herself.

The story of Panamint probably began in 1859 with the discovery of the Comstock lode. On this’ date a silver fever began which swept the United States and was especially “fatal” in the Western frontier where curiously every man was a modern day Jason tirelessly searching for his kind of fleece. But after 1859 many frontier men thought of just one thing—to trek the unknown for silver.

Indian George

Indian George

William T. Henderson was such a man. Spurred on by the silver news emanating daily from the Comstock, and from legends of the enormously rich lost Gunsight mine, the bearded prospector coaxed his burro across colorful Death Valley. With him were S. P. George and Indian George. S. P. George was weaned on the old gunsight lore. Indian George had long since discarded the ways of the red man and made the hopes of the white man his own.

These three dreamers in I860 skirted the flaming cliffs on the west side of Panamint Mountain. While Henderson found nothing to satisfy his thirst for silver, there was something about the ancient granite and metamorphic rocks of Panamint escarpment that promised wealth untold. So, he returned. This time with a legendary adventurer named William Alvord, a sourdough named Jackson, and the ever faithful Indian George. Again Henderson’s dreams of wealth were stymied. He left Panamint never to return. Alvord, his partner, was more unfortunate still. In the upper reaches of Surprise Canyon he was bushwacked by Jackson and left for vultures. All these anxious probings for silver into the desolate sunscorched Panamints were futile. Silver wasn’t discovered until late in 1872 when two of the most colorful champions of the silver west, R. E. Jacobs and Bob Stewart, wandered up Surprise Canyon and found a huge fragment of rich silver ore.

The great migration to the silver diggings began. Crude buildings sprang up like mushrooms after a spring rain. The most useful Panamint edifice was, of course, the Surprise Valley Mining and Water Company’s 20-stamp mill. It was finished in a matter of weeks while miners with huge stacks of ore chaffed at the bit. Good mechanics, carpenters, and millwrights got top wages of $6 per day. Most popular, of course, were the saloons and Panamint in those days had some fine ones. Like San Francisco, Panamint had its own Palace Hotel. Its barroom was built by skilled Panamint craftsmen and had a beautiful black walnut top. On the side walls were handsome pictures of voluptuous females in varying states of dishabille. But Dave Neagle, the owner of this splendid saloon, was especially proud of his magnificent mirror. It was 8 x 6 feet with double lamps on each side.

Fred Yager early determined that his “Dexter” saloon was going to surpass Neagle’s. Fred especially wanted the finest mirror in town. So, he sent to San Diego for a beauty. The mirror installed was to be a 7 x 12 foot sparkler. Tragedy struck, however, when an inebriated miner fell on the shimmering reflector just as it was being positioned against the wall. Sheltered in the confines of his Palace, Dave must have smiled at his rival’s sore plight—perhaps murmuring encouragingly that breaking a mirror leads to seven years bad luck.

There were two outstanding architectural omissions in Panamint. There was no jail—criminals had to be taken to Independence for incarceration. Further, though it was sorely needed, Panamint never had a hospital. On several occasions Panamint News editors Carr and later Harris cried out in their columns for a community hospital. Interestingly enough, the two crusading editors were mute concerning the lack of a jail.

Although it was not bruited about as such, the building owned and tastefully decorated by Martha Camp, played a significant role in the development of the new town. In Martha’s care was a bevy of attractive, if overly painted, young ladies whose lives were dedicated to two things: to make money and keep miners content.

It cannot be doubted, however, that Panamint prosperity was due to its mines. The two richest were suitably entitled Jacobs Wonder and Stewarts Wonder. Assays of these two mines showed ore values ranging from $100 to $4,000 per ton, the average being about $400. Stewart, a well known Nevada senator, later joined with another Nevada senator, J. P. Jones, to form Surprise Valley’s biggest mining combine, The Surprise Valley Company. Stewart and Jones had other
local interests. They owned the Surprise Valley Water Company and a toll road procured from grizzly Sam Tait which trailed up Surprise Canyon. Charges for ascending this road were quite nominal: $2.00 for a wagon, 4 bits for a horseman, and 2 bits for a miner and burro.

The two editors of the Panamint News, at first Carr and later Harris, were rhapsodic in their faith in Panamint’s ultimate prosperity. Late in 1874 the front page of the news throbbed with excitement. “There is reason to believe, the News stated, that a busy population of from three to four thousand souls will be in Panamint in less than a year,” and later, “When we begin to send out our bullion it will be in such abundance as will cause the outside world to wonder if our mountains are not made of silver.” Harris’ beginning enthusiasm must have haunted him later, for his paper of March 2, 1875 modestly informs us that “there were only 600 people at Panamint.”

Despite the fact that the Havilah Miner proclaimed that Panamint City’s silver yield would one day eclipse the Comstock, capital funneled slowly and sporadically into the silver city. Private persons mostly subsidized Panamints mining activities. Senator Jones’ faith in Panamint was shown by hard cash accumulations of partially developed mines. The Senator’s brother caught the silver virus and plunked down $113,000 for a number of claims in the Panamint district. Stock sales never boomed. One wonders if the wildly energetic silver sun of the Comstock lode were not out to eclipse a potential rival. After all, shares in the Con Virginia were flirting a’la Croesus with the San Francisco stock exchange at the $700 mark. More dramatic was E. P. Raine’s method of seeking money for Panamint. He carted 300 lbs. of rich ore across the Mojave to Los Angeles. He staggered into the Clarendon Hotel and dumped the ore on a billiard table. Unfortunately, hotel patrons were more interested in the fact that Raine bought drinks for all than they were in the welfare of Panamint.

Remi Nadeau

Probably the most popular method of getting freight to Panamint was sending goods via Remi Nadeau’s Cerro Gordo Freighting Company. Remi’s swaggering mule teams made daily trips from San Fernando to the Panamint mines. Remi was ever the epitome of optimism. Although untouched by such 20th Century transportation behemoths as the cross country truck and the jet cargo plane, Remi’s corporate slogan was “all goods marked C. G. F. C. will be forwarded with dispatch.”

But most characteristic of Panamint transportation in the early days was the solitary miner who arrived on foot followed by a heavily-laden burro. Within his hair-matted bosom slumbered the lion’s share of the vigor and courage of frontier America. Courage, however, wasn’t always the answer on the torrid road to  Panamint. Bleached bones of unlucky prospectors sparkled all too frequently in the Mojave sun. When Panamint hearts were at their lightest and silver ore seemed to stretch like a ribbon of wealth to the center of the earth, the people of Panamint, spear headed by their grey-haired champion, Senator Jones, attempted to build a railroad from Shoo Fly (Santa Monica) to Independence. This railroad was to make Panamint the silver empire of the world. Already England was being heralded as an inexhaustible market for Panamint silver. Unfortunately, however, the railroad was to remain a dream railroad. The project clashed with the wishes of the great Southern Pacific quadrumvirate of Stanford, Crocker, Hopkins, and Huntington. The proposed Shoo Fly to Independence railroad won some initial battles—Senator Jones’ Chinese laborers soundly trounced a corps of General Huntington’s forces in the Cajon Pass, but the good Senator lost the decisive battle for his beloved railroad in the hallowed halls of Congress. The Southern Pacific, sans Winchester, had a clear blueprint for winning the West.

Panamint City,1875

Recreation for Panamint’s thrifty merchants and boisterous sourdoughs centered, of course, in the city’s saloons. Whiskey was excellent and surly Jim Bruce dealt in a neat hand of faro. Whether tired miners came into Dave Neagle’s to ogle at pictures of nude ladies, to have a few drinks, or to chat with lovely, but garishly painted young ladies, all present usually had a good
time. Rarely was there serious gun play. Once a Chinese window washer served as target for the six gun of a frolicsome and intoxicated miner, but usually life in a Panamint bar did little to disturb the city’s reputation as an “orderly community.” In their more gentle moments, some men attended the Panamint Masonic Lodge.

For the respectable female, recreational possibilities were severely limited. Legendary is the dance that Miss Delia Donoghue, proprietress of the Wyoming Restaurant, threw in honor of George Washington, the father of her country. To a four piece combo led by learned Professor
Martin and paced by the twangs of a soused harpist, doughty men danced with 16 lovely ladies, almost the entire female population of the city.

Panamint certainly wasn’t as wicked as Tombstone, but it had its share of crime. Crime in this petulant silver metropolis ranged from writing threatening letters and petty thievery to infamous murder. The anonymous letters were sent to editor Harris. They criticized his reporting of the murder of Ed Barstow, night watchman for the Panamint News building, by gun fighter and chief undertaker Jim Bruce. This murder took place in Martha Camp’s pleasure house on Maiden Lane. Ed learned that his pal Jim was making time with Sophie Glennon who, demimonde damsel or not, was his girl. He burst into the bedroom firing his six gun blindly. Jim, drawing from his wide experience in such emergencies, sighted his target carefully and pumped two bullets into his erstwhile friend. A sentimental wrapping was given the whole affair when on his death bed Barstow confessed that he was drunk at the time and that his friend was guiltless. More sentiment was piled on when editor Harris used the crime as an excuse for moralizing on the dangers of drink.

A woman figured in one Panamint murder. Sleek Ramon Montenegro resented the words Philip de Rouche used to his comely escort. Montenegro, as lithe as a rattlesnake and with all its speed, knocked down the offender. For revenge, de Rouche later used the butt of his gun to play tattoo on Montenegro’s face. However, the handsome Latin won out in the end. Panamint sreets were a sea of flame for one moment as Montenegro’s gun flashed and killed the Frenchman. Taken to Independence for trial by Deputy Sheriff Ball, Montenegro was tried by a
Grand Jury and, although pleading guilty, was acquitted.

Panamint’s most celebrated crime would probably never have been committed if Panamint were a stable community and due process of law an accepted way of righting wrongs in the silver city. A. Ashim was a respected member of the Panamint community. He belonged to the
local Masonic Lodge and ran the town’s largest general merchandising business. But like most town males, Ashim had a six gun and had experience using it. So, when Nick Perasich ran off to Darwin leaving behind an unpaid bill of $47.50 at his store, Ashim walked into a Darwin restaurant. There Ashim shot Perasich three times, killing him instantly. The vendetta which resulted was not inferior to Mafia revenge killings of our day. Perasich’s brothers, led by the volatile Elias, pressed to kill Ashim. They almost succeeded. Hiding behind cornstalks along the roadside, they intercepted the stage and fired into it. Ashim escaped, but his mother received a powder burn on her nose.

Panamint stage coach

But it was those wily ex-New Yorkers, Small and McDonald, who turned Panamint criminology into something resembling a comic opera. From their infamous castle nestled in Wild Rose Canyon, these disheveled silver “knights” rode their sleek chargers into clandestine rendezvous
with those jolting fortresses of the West, Wells-Fargo stage coaches. Once, the wily knaves hunted for a silver mine—and found one. They had no intention of working it. As soon as they could, they unloaded the mine on Senator Stewart. Money received from the sale of the mine
could not have come at a more fortuitous moment for the unholy pair. They had been apprehended by Jim Hume, Wells-Fargo investigator, for robbing the Eureka and Palisades stage. Wells-Fargo forgot to press charges when Small and McDonald turned over to them the money received from the Senator for the sale of the mine.

After their close brush with Wells-Fargo, a legend started by twinkle-eyed Senator Stewart says that the desperados kept their eye on Senator Stewart’s progress with his new mine. Alarmed by the undue concern of the bandits with his property, Stewart devised a clever ruse to
foil the waiting thieves. He melted ore from the mine into five silver balls weighing over 400 pounds each. When the bandits thought the time was ripe, they opened their saddle bags and
pounced on the mine. Imagine their amazement at the sight of the five huge balls of silver. Legend adds that Stewart was horribly vilified by the disappointed pair for his unsportsmanlike conduct. In this case, however, legend is not correct. Remi Nadeau tells us in his book on California ghost towns that Stewart’s mill fashioned five massive ingots as a precaution against theft.

The criminal activities of Small and McDonald were destined to end soon after the robbery on Harris and Rhine’s store in the spring of 1876. Briefly, the brigands made nuisances of themselves around Bodie. A dispute over spoils, however, led to a heated dispute which led to
gun play. John Small was not quite as fast on the draw as his partner.

Why did Panamint die? People nowadays think that the silver veins were surface-bound and did not extend to any great depth. This reasoning appears quite cogent; after all, the silver city’s star did rise and set in four short years. A contrary viewpoint, however, was expressed by
Professor O. Loew who, late in 1875, was quoted as saying: “Never have I seen a country where there was a greater probability of true fissure veins than that of Panamint. In the Wyoming and Hemlock mines large bodies of ore will be encountered.” But even as Loew spoke, decay burdened the wind. Editor Harris left Panamint for Darwin in 1875; Doc Bicknell followed soon after. Before Harris packed his wagon for Darwin he advanced his notion why Panamint died—
the lack of road and rail transportation. Harris genuinely felt that a railroad could have saved the city.

Darwin, Ca.

There was another reason why Panamint became an untimely ghost town. Two hard-bitten prospectors, Baldwin and Wilson, discovered two rich mines in the nearby Coso mountains. The two miners told the people of Panamint that they had the two richest mines in the world. Panamint accepted their words and their enthusiasm as gospel. Immediately a great exodus of wagons trailed down Surprise Canyon headed for the promising capital of the Cosos, Darwin. Unquestionably the discovery of these silver mines in the Cosos provided the coup de grace for the already stricken city as Coso mines were “argentiferous” and did not require milling.

The deluge that swept down Surprise Canyon in 1876 was perhaps the final curtain in this historic drama of the old West. Its rushing waters played around empty shacks and deposited layers of heavy silt on little more than dreams. But there was one person enslaved by the charm of the silver city, Jim Bruce. Long after the mines were closed this formidable faro dealer and gunfighter lived a tranquil if uncertain existence in the city he loved.

Panamint flexed feeble muscles of silver again in 1947. On this date Nathan Elliott, movie press agent, established the American Silver Corporation in a last ditch attempt to wrest silver from long dormant Panamint mines. Elliott spun a sumptuous verbal web that entrapped many of the film Capitol’s finest. Aided by Vice President and Comedian Ben Blue, the silver-tongued promoter succeeded in raising $1,000,000. With this money Panamint mines were deepened.
But Elliott’s hopes for a bonanza never materialized. To the wonder and rage of the movie world, the great developer vanished into protective oblivion.

Today Panamint is deserted except for the Thompson sisters who live up Surprise Canyon a few miles north of the old mill. They are old-time residents of the area and their residence, Thompson camp, is a soothing backdrop of green poised against bitter desolation. The Thompson home is encircled by tall trees; a fenced yard secures a well-watered lawn which
always has the appearance of being freshly mowed.’ This is due to the wonderful “automatic mower” owned by these ladies, a dusky well-fed burro.

These soft-spoken daughters of the Mojave own a number of mining claims in the area. From time to time they hire miners to sample ores from neighboring hills or to repair rickety scaffolding. Although, the Thompson sisters run a relaxed operation now, their mining activities
would be greatly accelerated by an increase in the price of silver. You can be assured of this not only from what they say, but also from the silvery sparkle that sometimes dances in their eyes.

from:
Tempest in Silver by Stanley Demes – Desert Magazine – February 1967

Railroads come to Goldfield

Transportation to and from Goldfield improved greatly with the arrival of the railroad. On September 12, 1905, at 12:30 p.m. the first passenger train arrived in Goldfield, greeted by 300 people. It was operated by the Goldfield Railroad Company. The arrival of the Railroad kicked off three days of celebrations, but mourning for some stage lines. In all there would be four railroads serving Goldfield, and one local line operated by the Goldfield Consolidated Milling & Transportation Company.

The Tonopah and Goldfield Railroad built railroad shops and a terminal near Aluminum and Fourth Streets, in May of 1910. The T & G operated until October of 1947, and had a life span of 44 years.The Las Vegas & Tonopah Railroad was built in 1906 & 1907, from Las Vegas to Tonopah, and had stops in Beatty, Bullfrog, Rhyolite, and Goldfield. The LV & T ran for 14 years, until October 31. 1918, when the Nevada Department of Highways purchased the railroad right-of-way for Highway 95.

The Tonopah & Tidewater Railroad was built starting in November 1905, and completed October 30. 1907. It ran from Ludlow, California northward via Death Valley Junction to Gold Center, just two miles south of Beatty, and then northward on the Bullfrog Goldfield Railroad. The T & T Railroad ran until June 14, 1940, a span of 33 years.

The Bullfrog Goldfield Railroad was constructed starting in May 1906, probably starting at Milltown in the Goldfield Mining District, at the terminal of the T & G tracks, and was completed southward to Beatty by April, 1907. The Bullfrog Goldfield freight depot and maintenance building was situated at Fifth Avenue and Pearl Street across from the Santa Fe Saloon and is under reconstruction today. The Bullfrog Goldfield Railroad operated until January, 1928. During various stages of its existence, the BGRR leased its tracks to either the T&T or LV&T. Management changed hands five times during its 21 year life span.

Railroad Day September 12, 1905. The arrival of the Railroad marked the end of the stage coach to and from Goldfield and Tonopah.

from:
Goldfield Historic Walking Tour Booklet
The Goldfield Historical Society

Railroads in the Mojave Desert

The Headless Horseman

The famed “Headless Horseman,” found in the desert in 1965 will finally return home Saturday, May 6, 1972. He will go on display for the first time at the Mojave River Valley Museum during the museum’s annual barbecue at Dana Park. Proceeds from the event will be used to continue research to identify the mysterious horseman who met such a sudden and violent death in the sand dunes of what is now the J.D. Mitchell ranch east of Yermo.

The mystery surrounding the Headless Horseman symbolizes the history of the Mojave Desert and particularly the Mojave River Trail. Bones of the man and his horse were found on October 29, 1965, at a dune area that was being leveled by Don Hughes, the picturesque gray-bearded man who was popularly known as Calico’s “uncle Don.”

Hughes was clearing the land when he spotted a highly mineralized axe head. Retracing his bulldozer cut he found a piece of jawbone and skull, then saw bones protruding from the ground thirty feet away. With the help of Mrs. J.D Mitchell he carefully uncovered the find and discovered human bones astride horse bones.

Lt. James K. Harvey and Deputy E.L. Robinson of the Sheriff’s Substation were notified and conducted an investigation along with Deputy County Coroner Walt Terry. Museum director Dr. Gerald Smith and amateur archaeologist Charles Williams excavated and charted the bones, which have been in the custody of the San Bernardino County Museum at Bloomington ever since.

Soon after the find, a drive was started to collect a building fund for a small museum to house the Headless Horseman at Dana Park. With assistance from Barstow service clubs in supporting the museum’s annual barbecues and from sororities, youth clubs and hundreds of individuals, construction began in 1968. Now the unidentified young horseman is returning home to the desert.

An interpretive study of the Headless Horseman does reveal some facts. He was a male, about 21-23, and he was small, probably 5’1″ or 5’2″. His teeth were slightly ground down, indicating some subsistence on stone-ground food containing stone particles. Assumptions could therefore be made that he might have been part Indian and part Mexican or an Indian who worked on a mission or rancho, and he was probably from New Mexico or Southern California.

Another speculation is that he may be a Ute Indian who joined American trappers in raiding California ranches and missions for horses and mules.

It was first thought the young man had been burned because of a black-greenish material found between him and the horse. Closer examination indicated this was homespun cloth discolored by sand, mold and age. The cloth was of two types, one fine-woven and one a burlap like the New Mexican wool blankets, similar to the one in the museum’s Mexican period display.

Three butcher-type knives were found in the upper torso. Since 1826, Jedediah Smith and other trappers had been trading butcher knives with the Ute Indians. Among other items found with the bones were rounded pieces of wood, possibly the remains of a lance; a small metal box containing lumps of yellow vermilion dye which was used by Indians and used to trade with them; a package of percussion caps used in pistols and rifles even after the Civil War; buttons which have not yet been analyzed or classified and various types of cloth. Microscopic study is needed to compare the items with material found in missions and with museum material in New Mexico, Utah and Los Angeles.

Much has also been learned by approaching the mystery from the historic point of view. The discovery area near Minneola Rd. had permanent pools of water until as recently as 30 years ago and was a natural camping spot for the Paiute or Vanyume Indians. The area still shows signs of Indian occupation, chipped chalcedony flakes, broken pottery and fire-broken camp rocks.

When Antonio Armijo opened the New Mexican caravan route to Los Angeles in 1830-31, this became a stopping place before the long stretches between the water holes of Bitter Spring, Salt Springs, the Amargosa River, to Las Vegas and then New Mexico. In every New Mexican expedition there were Indian vaqueros and servants. Frequently the Paiute or Chemehuevi villages were ruthlessly raided for women and children to be sold as slaves to California or New Mexico ranchers.

There were many legitimate traders bringing blankets, serapes and religious items to trade for horses and mules, but they were outnumbered by illegal traders. Choice mules could be purchased for $10 in California and sold for $50 in New Mexico; yet some New Mexicans stole the mules and tame mares or enticed the California Indians to steal them. The inland valley became a grazing area for stolen animals awaiting the yearly traders from New Mexico. The Mojave River Trail was the entry and escape route from 1833 to 1846.

The camping spot on the “Old Spanish Trail,” which was neither old nor Spanish, east of Yermo became known as “Punta de Agua,” or point of water. When the United States took over and opened the military road to Fort Mohave near Needles, the location became known as Forks in the Road. This historic spot (later John Daggett’s Mill and Hawley’s Station) was as important to travelers then as Barstow is today.

Although we know the Mojave River Trail was the key route for legitimate travelers as well as nefarious adventurers, we do not know all the meetings, plans, camping and rendezvous spots the Mojave Desert held before and after the thrusts into the California rancho lands.

Runaway mission Indians, bitter with hatred toward the Mexicans; desert Indians seeking revenge for the annual two-way slave trade of the New Mexicans; the Mohave Indians with a history of disputes with the Spanish, then with the Mexicans; American trappers seeking profits in a world of declining beaver and falling beaver prices; the New Mexicans plotting, who would check in legally to Los Angeles with passports from New Mexico and who would scout the interior valley to trade for stolen mares and mules; Ute Indians under the famed Walkara (Wakara) making his raiding trips, sometimes 1500 miles round-trip. All were a part of the Mojave River scene during the 18th century.

The camping site of Punta de Agua could tell enough stories to fill 1000 novels. One of these could be the unrecorded ambush of a traveler or wrangler bringing in tired horses or an internal dispute between thieves.

The identity of the Headless Horseman may be forever hidden in the mystery of time, space and secrecy.

~ Cliff Walker

(Wm. Mutschler collection)

 

Geology of the Stoddard Ridge Area

WEST CENTRAL MOJAVE DESERT, SAN BERNARDINO COUNTY CALIFORNIA (Abstract)

Stoddard Ridge is a prominent landmark south of Barstow California in the west central Mojave

Desert area. The 35 square mile area was mapped in detail at a scale of 1:12,000. The geology is far more complex than depicted on all older published maps. The new mapping adds significant new data regarding the variety of rocks present, and adds new details on the geologic structure and complex geologic history of the area.Several packages of rocks are exposed. At the east end of the ridge the oldest rocks are exposed and include PreCambrian basement gneiss complex, metamorphosed intrusive rocks, and possible Late Proterozoic metasedimentary rocks (schist units). The central part of the ridge exposes several sequences of steeply dipping Mid Jurassic Lower Sidewinder volcanic (JLSV) rocks, and younger (JLSV) rhyolite dome complex that includes extrusive, flow banded and massive hypabyssal intrusives. The western portion of Stoddard Ridge is largely heterogeneous Mid Jurassic plutonic rocks (post JLSV) which form a steeply dipping sheeted intrusive complex, that includes diorite, granodiorite, quartz monzonite and felsite. Plutonic and to a lesser degree volcanic rocks are cut by numerous younger mafic and felsic dikes correlated with the Independence dike swarm of Late Jurassic age. The eastern part of the ridge has been intruded by homogeneous Mid Jurassic plutonic rocks, and Cretaceous granitic intrusive rocks are exposed along the southwestern base of Stoddard Ridge. Several ages of Late Cenozoic alluvial units were also differentiated in mapping.

Geologic structure is complex, the result of several deformational events including shearing, folding, faulting, intrusion and metamorphism of pre Mid Jurassic age, followed by multiple Mid Jurassic age volcanic, intrusive and deformation (folding and faulting) events, and younger Cenozoic age faulting. Most bedrock units have a northwest trending structural grain which likely formed in Jurassic time. Suspected concealed faults are present under alluvium. Several prominant young northwest trending high angle faults are present on the south side of the ridge and can be seen to cut alluvium.

BROWN, Howard J.
Cordilleran Section – 109th Annual Meeting (20-22 May 2013)

 

Jim Beckwourth – Stealing Horses

Notes:
Mountain man Jim Beckwourth flees California during the Bear Flag Revolt Stealing Horses Along the Way

James Beckwourth

I had but little time to deliberate. My people was at war with the country I was living in; I had become security to the authorities for the good behavior of several of my fellow-countrymen, and I was under recognizances for my own conduct. The least misadventure would compromise me, and I was impatient to get away. My only retreat was eastward; so, considering all things fair in time of war, I, together with five trusty Americans, collected eighteen hundred stray horses we found roaming on the Californian ranchos, and started with our utmost speed from Pueblo de Angeles. This was a fair capture, and our morals justified it, for it was war-time. We knew we should be pursued, and we lost no time in making our way toward home. We kept our herd jogging for five days and nights, only resting once a day to eat, and afford the animals time to crop a mouthful of grass. We killed a fat colt occasionally, which supplied us with meat, and very delicious meat too rather costly, but the cheapest and handiest we could obtain. After five days’ chase our pursuers relaxed their speed, and we ourselves drove more leisurely. We again found the advantage that I have often spoken of before of having a drove of horses before us, for, as the animals we bestrode gave out, we could shift to a fresh one, while our pursuers were confined to one steed.

When we arrived at my fort on the Arkansas, we had over one thousand head of horses, all in good condition. There was a general rejoicing among the little community at my safe arrival, the Indians also coming in to bid me welcome. I found my wife married again, having been deceived by a false communication. Her present husband had brought her a missive, purporting to be of my inditing, wherein I expressed indifference toward her person, disinclination to return home, and tendering her a discharge from all connubial obligation. She accepted the document as authentic, and solaced her abandonment by espousing her husband’s messenger. My return acquainted her with the truth of the matter. She manifested extreme regret at having suffered herself to be imposed upon so readily, and, as a remedy for the evil, offered herself back again; but I declined, preferring to enjoy once more the sweets of single blessedness.

I left the fort on a visit to San Fernandez. I found business very dull there on account of the war, and great apprehensions were felt by my friends in regard to the result. Perceiving that was no very desirable place to remove to, I returned to my community. General Kearney was just then on his march to Santa Fe. I took a drove of my horses, and proceeded down the Arkansas to meet him on his route; for it was probable there might be an opportunity of effecting some advantageous exchanges. The general came up, and found me in waiting with my stock; we had been acquainted for several years, and he gave me a very cordial reception.

“Beckwourth,” said the general, you have a splendid lot of horses, really; they must have cost you a great sum of money.”

“No, general,” I replied, “but they cost me a great many miles of hard riding.”

“How so?” he inquired.

“Why, I was in California at the time the war broke out, and, not having men enough at my command to take part in the fighting, I thought I could assist my country a little by starting off a small drove of the enemy’s horses, in order to prevent their being used against us.”

“Ah, Beckwourth, you are truly a wonderful man to possess so much forethought,” and he laughed heartily. “However,” added he, ” trade them off as quickly as possible, for I want you to accompany me. You like war, and I have good use for you now.”  …

from: The Life and Adventures of James P. Beckwourth
Mountaineer, Scout, and Pioneer and Chief of the Crow Nation of Indians

 

The Great Indian Fight at Little Bear Valley

The Indian troubles in San Bernardino County during the 1860s were not indigenous to a certain area. They were merely responses to a situation caused by the white man himself, as he gradually usurped — in Indian eyes — the new continent.

Camp Cady – Jean Goldbranson

At first the Indians lost with resentment, then smoldering rage as the newcomers slaughtered his animals, stole the land and ravaged its natural resources without regard for the future.

Although held at bay for a time by the presence of troops, the fortunes of war gave them one last chance to strike back.

There were a few Indians like the Cahuillas  who welcomed the coming of missionaries and became Christians under the auspices of the Catholic Church, but others like Paiutes and Chemehuevis roamed free across the Mojave Desert; itching for a chance to gain revenge.

During the Civil War, sporadic Indian raids by these two tribes led to the establishment of Camp Cady  on the Mojave Desert and its troops regularly patrolled the Mojave Trail from Oro Grande  and Soda Lake in a more or less successful attempt to quell the problem.

This did not stop local incidents from happening, like the occasional stealing of horses or cattle from the San Bernardino mountains and valley, were the wounding of Dr. David N. Smith  at the upper gate of John Brown’s toll road in 1862. After his recovery, Smith founded what later became known as the Arrowhead Hot Springs sanitarium.

When the war ended, United States war department reorganized their Western forces and in the early part of 1866 withdrew troops from Camp Cady  and other points between Los Angeles and Fort Mojave.

Only a few weeks later,  at the Dunlap ranch (now the Las Flores ranch)  on the West Forks of the Mojave, H.E. Parish, Nephi Beamis and Pratt Whiteside were writing up a small canyon looking for strays when they were ambushed by Indians in their body stripped and mutilated.

Their deaths were attributed to the withdrawal of troops from Camp Cady  and the incident brought forth storms protest from incensed town citizens who gave them the largest funeral ever held in San Bernardino up to that time.

But the troop’s continued absence set the stage for yet another violent attack. in January 1867, a large band of Paiutes and Chemehuevis  invaded Little Bear Valley, apparently bent on stealing horses and cattle grazing there.

They burned a small sawmill and cabin standing near today’s Lake Arrowhead dam  and then continued up the valley, looting and burning another cabin near the present Lake Arrowhead Village.

George Lish  and John DeWitt, to local mill men, had just returned to the area with a load of provisions from downtown San Bernardino when they saw the Indians running towards them. Fortunately they had a head start and out ran the savages to nearby Talmadge’s Mill (now Blue Jay)  and bolted themselves within.

The following morning, after someone helped arrive from San Bernardino, and the women and children have been barricaded inside the mill, Frank Talmadge, Bill Kane,  Jonathan Richardson and Bill Armstrong took to saddle horses in a pack animal and started out after the Indians.

A fresh, 6-inch pack of snow made the Indian tracks easy to follow and at the head of Willow Canyon they surprised eight savages, who turned and ran. Talmadge and Kane,  On horseback, chased them down the canyon and were within shooting distance when the Indians suddenly jumped behind a large log.

As their pursuers galloped past, the Indians fired a volley of shots, wounding Kane’s horse, who reared and threw his rider heavily to the snow. as Kane fell he dropped his rifle in the Indians tried to kill him before he could retrieve it. During the furious scuffle, Talmadge   leapt off his mount in the shot and killed one Indian who was drawing a bead on Kane.

The savages then circled about Talmadge  while Kane, still unarmed, took refuge behind a tree.

Talmadge  was armed with the double barreled rifle and when he fired a second time without reloading, the Indians —  accustomed to fighting only with single shot weapons —  became confused and fled. Talmadge and his men,  shaken by the furious action, then returned to the mill, ending round one of the fight.

The following day, bolstered by the arrival of more men from San Bernardino, they started out again. This time they had just crossed a ridge several hundred yards from the mill when they met a force of some 60 Indians, armed with rifles and bows and arrows.

During the ensuing encounter both sides fought from behind trees, “Indian style,”  several hundred shots were fired, two Indians killed and two white men wounded before each side withdrew to tend to their wounded.

That evening, during a heated meeting held inside the mill, the men decided to mount a campaign to drive the Indians out of the mountains for good. For this purpose reinforcements arrived, including Indian fighter W. F. “Billy”  Holcomb, along with a wagon load of provisions from San Bernardino.

Although it was found the Indians had retreated to the desert, the heavily armed company followed them down,  determined to wipe them out.

Following Holcomb’s advice, they establish camps at the Dunlap ranch  and the Verde ranch on the Mojave River at Little Meadow  and every morning divided the group into smaller units with each following a different trail in trying to flush out the Indians.

They finally located the main Indian party encamped on a rock covered mountain northwest of Rabbit Springs. Although an attack was planned for daybreak and carried out, the Indians were forewarned by stray shots and most of them escaped.

But not for long. The chase continued and most of the savages were pinned down in small bands and destroyed one by one.

The entire campaign lasted 32 days and after it was over, some of the men almost died after running out of food and water.

But the operation accomplished its purpose. The troubles with the Mojave Desert tribes were over, and they would never attack in force again.

From:

Heritage Tales 1988
by Fred Holladay
published by the City of San Bernardino Historical and Pioneer Society

also see …

Chimney Rock
the site of the last Indian fight in California. To understand the climax …

Holcomb Valley, Big Bear
Chimney Rock in Lucerne Valley was the site of the last Indian fight in California. … Bill Holcomb formed a posse and followed the Indians but had to give up the

Chemehuevi History – American Period
After this, the U. S. Army established a military camp at Camp Rock Spring near … settlers organized a surprise attack on Indians assembled at Chimney Rock,

The Stoddard Boys

Of all the brother acts operating in and around San Bernardino County during the Mormon period, Few accomplished more for the ultimate benefit of the area than the Stoddard boys, Arvin and Sheldon.

Neither cut an imposing figure. Arvin, the quiet one, was only 5’5″ tall and weighed 135 pounds soaking wet, while Sheldon wasn’t much larger.  But what they lacked in height they more than made up in spirit.

Arvin, however,   had an imposing ally in his wife Caroline. She was 6 feet tall and weighed well over 200 pounds —  a formidable Amazon and an extremely vocal one too. One is tempted to ask if she carried him across the threshold on their wedding night.

She became Arvin’s mouthpiece and  did not hesitate to make her opinions known, particularly when the chips were down. As their grandson, R. Jackson Stoddard  wrote in the March 1970 issue of the LA Westerners Branding Iron, “For although she followed the will of her husband, in many cases the will of her husband was truly only a reflection of her own wants and desires.”

Stoddard Mountain

Stoddard Mountain

Today, a stretch of the Mojave Desert between Victorville and Daggett is blanketed with sites bearing the Stoddard’s names. They include the Stoddard Mountains, Stoddard Hills, Stoddard gulch, Stoddard Valley, Stoddard Well and Stoddard Wells Road —  all  directly attributable  to Arvin’s work in the area during the 1850s and 60s.

Flag of the Mormon Battailion

Flag of the Mormon Battailion (note spelling)

There were four Stoddard Brothers at the beginning; Rufus, Albert, Arvin and Sheldon, who were all born in Canada. When their father died in 1838, mother Jane gathered them all up and crossed the United States border, first to Ohio in then to Warsaw, Illinois, where she became hooked on the Mormon religion. When the church made it’s great trek to Salt Lake City in 1847, she and her boys were in the initial contingent.

Rufus was the first of the boys to reach California, arriving in San Diego as a member of the Mormon Battalion. After his group was disbanded in Los Angeles, he remained in the area for almost a year before he rejoining his family at Salt Lake City in 1849.

Sheldon was the next to go. Leaving Salt Lake in 1848, along with  30 other men found for the placer diggings near hang town, they traveled as far as Mountain Meadows with a larger company who hired Capt. Jefferson Hunt to guide them to Los Angeles over the Old Spanish Trail.

At the Meadows they left Hunt’s party and turned west to take what they thought was a shortcut to the gold fields and for the next 17 days blindly followed a false trail without a guide, compass or map to go by.

On the 18th day, hopelessly lost in facing death without water their lives were spared when a sudden rain squall drenched the area.   As Sheldon later wrote, “We caught the water by spreading out our rubber blankets on the ground and drank it with a spoon.”

They then turned east on the Muddy River, followed at South until they fortunately encountered Capt. Hunt’s company again and accompanied it up the Mojave River, through Cajon Pass and down to the Chino Ranch.

Crowder Canyon, Cajon Pass

Crowder Canyon – Old Spanish Trail

Tragically enough, on the same trip another group of would-be minors left Hunt’s command at Provo, Utah, insisting they also knew a shorter route to the gold fields, only to blunder into Death Valley, where five died before the survivors made it to Los Angeles.

Death Valley

Death Valley

From Chino the party went on to Mariposa, where they broke up to mine, while Stoddard ran a trading post in nearby Carson Valley  for a few months before returning to Salt Lake with a herd of horses and mules.

in March 1851 Sheldon married Jane Hunt, daughter of Capt. Hunt, and the following month they accompanied the first group of Mormon colonizers to the San Bernardino Valley, making temporary camp at Sycamore Grove.

After the Mormons purchased the San Bernardino Rancho that September, and moved down into the valley, Sheldon built the first  log cabin in the settlement on First Street,, west of I Street. His cabin was later moved to and made part of the Westside of this stockade constructed on the present courthouse site as protection against hostile Indians.

For the next 14 years Sheldon Stoddard was engaged in freighting and carrying mail between San Bernardino and Salt Lake City, crossing the Mojave 24 times in all. In 1865 he made one trip to Nevada in Montana with a mule team which covered  over 1300 miles, and took six months to complete.

Arvin Stoddard and his wife also came to San Bernardino with the first Mormon train and lived in the stockade for three years before receiving an urgent message from Mormon leader Brigham Young, authorizing him to investigate a gold strike in the Calico Hills to see if he could ” obtain as much gold as possible to help finance the founding and furtherance of the faith,”  keeping only enough to live on during the venture.

Calico hills

Calico Hills

Arvin and Caroline,  ardent church devotees, packed their wagon and with their poor young children in tow, headed for the hills without hesitation.

Mojave River at Afton Canyon

Mojave River at Afton Canyon

But before looking for gold, Arvin  search for water to raise crops to feed his family and stock and to flush through sluice boxes used to separate flakes of gold from the desert sand.

One of his more successful wells, known as Stoddard Well, is still flowing today and besides furnishing the family with ample water, also  provided and impetus  for others to break out a new road on almost a straight line from Lane’s Crossing,  near today’s Oro Grande, to Fish Ponds Station  between present-day Barstow and Daggett, thereby saving many miles compared with the old route, which followed the westward band of the Mojave River.

Although it took him almost 8 years of prospecting, Arvin  finally struck a rich claim and extracted a sum that Caroline estimated at  $60,000   before calling it quits  and lighting out for Salt Lake City to hand to Brigham Young.

But before they reach the Mormon Temple, they were held up by Indians and robbed of all their hard-earned loot, except for a few thousand dollars hidden in Caroline’s underwear.

As her grandson related, “The Indians were neither red nor brown.  they were more white than any Indian she (Caroline)  had ever seen.”  Caroline deduced they were renegade Mormons, acting on behalf of the church, and  although her suspicions were never resolved, her once benevolent attitude toward the Mormon hierarchy  changed overnight and led to her eventual break  with the church.

In 1869 the Arvin Stoddards  move to Milford, Utah, where they build a hotel called, naturally, “The  Stoddard House,”  where they lived until Caroline died in 1904.

Sheldon Stoddard remained in San Bernardino for the rest of his life, Rev. and honored by all who knew him for his contributions to the county and state.

Blue Cut - Cajon Pass

Blue Cut – Cajon Pass

After serving as president of the pioneer society, he spent his final years  surrounded by old friends like John Brown and Billy Holcomb. They camped and fished together in their mountain retreats and dedicated monuments to the pioneers in Cajon Pass.  he was active up to the day of his death in 1919 at the age of 89.

From:

Heritage Tales 1988
by Fred Holladay
published by the City of San Bernardino Historical and Pioneer Society

Lucerne Valley Post Office

Lucerne Valley post office - Photo courtesy Charles Rader

Lucerne Valley post office – Photo courtesy Charles Rader

In 1930, Lucerne Valley boasted having this post office building on the Box “S” Ranch in this widely homesteaded area. Famed for its pure  Mojave dry air, World War I veterans who suffer being gassed in France found breathing here are easy. One section of the valley is called “Little Inglewood.” This stems from many homesteaders, originally from Inglewood, California, moving there in the 1920s and 1930s.

 

from – Images of America –  Mojave Desert by John Swisher

Daggett Jail

A hacksaw doesn’t do much good in a jail without bars to saw through.  Dagget jail was a 10 x 15′ unventilated, suffocating, box made of railroad ties. There was absolutely no insulation meaning it was oven-hot in the summer, and icy, frozen-cold in the winter. Of course, this was the charm and ambiance of the jail which was meant to be reformatory rather than rehabilitative. It was punishment, and being cooped up with four or five other men; thieves, miscreants, dubious characters, cheats and/or drunks–making the place unbearable, and whether you remained in town or left, a man just didn’t want to go back.

Daggett Jail - Myra McGinnis-Swisher

Daggett Jail – Myra McGinnis-Swisher collection

Daggett, California

The Story of Convict Lake

from The Story of Inyo – W.A. Chalfant -1922

The most desperate prison break in the history of the West occurred at the Nevada penitentiary at Carson on the evening of Sunday, September 17, 1871. Twenty-nine convicts, murderers, train robbers, horse thieves and others of like ilk, gained temporary liberty after killing one man and wounding half a dozen more. The bravery of the handful of prison guards, the action of a life prisoner in opposing the escape and fighting the convicts, and other details make an interesting story, but one outside the field of this history. Inyo’s interest in the affair became direct when one of the gangs of desperadoes started with intent to recuperate in Owens and Fish Lake valleys, as a preliminary to raiding a store at Silver Peak and escaping with their loot to seek refuge among the renegades, Indians and whites, who had established themselves in the far deserts.

Convict Lake

Billy Poor, a mail rider, was met by the convicts, who murdered him in cold blood, took his horse and clothing and dressed the corpse in discarded prison garb. When news of the occurrence reached Aurora, the boy’s home, a posse set out ill pursuit of the escapees. The trail was found at Adobe Meadows, in southern Mono, and word was sent to Deputy Sheriff George Hightower, at Benton. Hightower and ten others from Benton trailed the fugitives into Long Valley. Robert Morrison, who came to Owensville in 1863 and was at this time a Benton merchant, first sighted the men, in the evening of Friday, the 23d. The pursuers went to the McGee place, in southern Long Valley, and spent the night, and the following morning went up the stream then known as Monte Diablo Creek, but now called Convict.

As the posse neared the narrow at the eastern end of the deep cup in which Convict Lake is situated, a man was seen running down a hill a hundred yards ahead. The pursuers spurred up
their horses and soon found themselves within forty feet of the convicts’ camp. Three convicts
took shelter behind a large pine tree on the south side of the stream, and began firing. Two of
the horses of the posse were killed and two others wounded, and one of the posse was shot through the hand. Morrison dismounted, began crawling down the hillside to get nearer, and was shot in the side. The rest of the posse fled. Black, convict, went after Morrison, passing him until Morrison snapped his gun without its being discharged; Black then shot him through the head.

Mt. Morrison

The convicts went up the canyon to where an Indian known as Mono Jim was keeping some of
the citizens’ horses. Thinking that the approaching men belonged to the posse, Jim announced that he had seen three men down the canyon. As he saw his mistake Black shot him. Jim returned the fire, wounding two of the horses the convicts had, and was then killed. Morrison’s body remained where it fell until Alney McGee went from the house in the valley that evening and recovered it. The convicts had left. Morrison’s body was taken to Benton and buried by the Masonic fraternity.

“Convict” was thenceforward adopted as the name of the beautiful lake and stream near the
scene. A mighty peak that towers over the lake bears the name of Mount Morrison.

Word had been sent from Benton to Bishop, and a posse headed by John Crough and John
Clarke left the latter place, after some delay due to failure of the messenger to deliver his letter.
The trail was picked up in Round Valley, which the convicts had crossed. The latter had made
their way into Pine Creek Canyon, and were so hard pressed that they abandoned one of their
horses and lost another over a precipice. News that the men w^ere located, and the fact that they were armed with Henry rifles, superior to the weapons of the citizens, was taken to Independence by I. P. Yaney. The military post was at that time commanded by Major Harry C. Egbert, who afterward became General Egbert and lost his life as a brave soldier in the Philippines. Major Egbert selected five men to accompany him in the hunt, and also provided a supply of arms for any citizens who might wish to use them for the main purpose. They made the trip to Bishop in seven hours, which was rapid traveling in those days.

Convicts Morton and Black were captured in the sand hills five miles southeast of Round Valley, on Wednesday night, ten days after their escape. They were taken by J. L. C. Sherwin, Hubbard, Armstead, McLeod and two Indians. A few shots were exchanged before the fugitives threw up their hands in token of surrender. An Indian mistook the motion and fired, the shot striking Black in the temple and passing through his head, but strangely not killing him. The two were taken to Birchim’s place in Round Valley. Black was able to talk, and laid the killing of Morrison on Roberts, a nineteen-year old boy. After hearing his story a posse resumed the hunt for Roberts in Pine Creek Canyon.

This posse was eating lunch in the canyon on Friday when they observed a movement in a  clump of willows within twenty yards of them. The place was surrounded and Roberts was ordered to come out and surrender. He did so, saying that if they intended to kill him he was ready if he could have a cup of coffee. He had been five and one-half days without food. When he confronted Black at Birchim’s, the conduct of the older villain satisfied all that he and not Roberts had slain Morrison.

The three prisoners were placed in a spring wagon Sunday evening, October 1st, and with
a guard of horsemen started from Round Valley for Carson. Near Pinchower’s store, where the
northern road through West Bishop intersected the main drive of that vicinity, the escort and
wagon were surrounded by a large body of armed citizens. ”Who is the captain of this guard?”
was asked. “I am; turn to the left and go on.” But the mob did not turn to the left nor was there any resistance. Morton, who sat with the driver, said: “Give me the reins and I’ll drive after
them ; I’m a pretty good driver myself.” Roberts, who had been shot in the shoulder and in the foot in the encounter in Long Valley, was lying in the bottom of the wagon. He offered objections to going with the citizens, but without effect, and with Black driving to his own hanging, the wagon and its escort moved across the unfenced meadow to a vacant cabin about a mile northeasterly. On arrival there. Black and Roberts were carried into the house, both being wounded. Morton got down from the wagon with little assistance and went in with them.

Bishop Creek Sierra Nevada

Bishop Creek

Lights were procured, and all present except the guards over the prisoners formed a jury. The
convicts were questioned for two hours before votes were taken, separately on each prisoner. It
was decreed that Black and Morton should be hanged at once. The vote on Roberts was equally
divided for and against execution, and his life was saved by that fact.

A scaffold was hastily set up at the end of the house, one end of its beam resting on the top of
its low chimney, the other supported by a tripod of timbers. Morton hoard the preparations going on, and asked: “Black, are you ready to die?” “No, this is not the crowd that will hang us,” replied Black. “Yes, it is,” said Morton; don’t you hear them building the scaffold”?” Morton was
asked if he wished to stand nearer the fire which had been made to modify the chill of- the late
autumn night. “No, it isn’t worth while warming now,” he answered; and turning to Roberts
he said: “We are to swing, and I mean to have you swing with us if we can ; we want company. ” Black was carried out and lifted into a wagon which had been driven under the scaffold; after
being raised to his feet he stood unsupported. Morton walked out and looked over the  arrangements calmly, climbed into the wagon, and placed the noose over his own head. He asked that his hands be made fast so that he could not jump up and catch the rope. Black asked for water ; Morton asked him what he wanted with water then. When asked if they had anything to say, Black said no. Morton said that it wasn’t well for a man to be taken off without some religious ceremony, and if there was a minister present he would like to have a prayer. Whether it seems strange or otherwise, there was a minister present by request. He spoke a few words, after which Morton said: “I am prepared to meet my God—but I don’t know that there is any God.” He shook hands with the men on the wagon, and then the minister prayed. Only his voice and a sigh from Black broke the stillness. As “Amen” was pronounced the wagon moved away. Black was a large and heavy man and died without a struggle. Morton, a very small man, sprang into the air as the wagon started, and did not move a muscle after his weight rested on the rope.

Young Roberts was taken to the county jail at Independence, and after partial recovery from his wounds was returned to the Carson prison. Others among the escapes were believed to have
come this way, and hard search was made for them through the mountains. That one named
Charley Jones had come to Bishop Creek and had probably received some assistance was a general belief, but what became of him was never known unless to a select circle. Four of the escapes were captured on Walker River while they were feasting on baked coyote. Eighteen of the twentynine were captured or killed within two months of the prison break.

— end —

Also see:

Convict Lake

Convict Lake (elevation 7,850 feet (2,393 m)), is a lake in the Sherwin Range of the Sierra Nevada. It is known for…