text was,

the Rev. H. B. Sheldon, who preached on
alternate Sabbaths at Weaverville and Shasta.
It was the first religious discourse I had
heard since leaving home five years before,
and I was greatly impressed by it. The
"Behold I stand at the door and
knock; if any man hear my voice and open
unto me, I will come in to him and sup with
him, and he with me." Religion was
sadly at a discount with the mining frater-
nity in those days, and we had scarcely left
the house to return to the log cabin when
one irreverent fellow broke out into the
words of a then popular negro ditty:
"Is dat you, Sam?" "Oh, no, its Jim."
"Well, you ain't good looking, and you can't
come in,

So it's no use knocking at de do' any mo',
So it's no use knockin' at de do',"

which he thought should have been sung in meeting as appropriate to the text chosen.

A more creditable story however, is told of Minersville, a little town a few miles above Eastman's. There was a small band of Christians there, and occasionally a clergyman visited them. Services were held in an old butcher shop opposite the store, which had attached to it the inevitable saloon of the day. One Sabbath afternoon, services "were held, while at the same time the devil was getting in his work among the ungodly across the street. That no part of the service should be neglected, the hat was passed around, and three dollars and six bits collected. A sorrowful look came over the reverend gentleman's face as he saw the size of the collection.

"Suppose you go among the friendly sinners over the way; they may do something," said he.

"The friendly sinners" were visited with good results. About twenty dollars in five franc pieces and half dollars was poured from the hat upon the table, and the clergyman made happy.

The early politics of the county developed some surprising results. In the first election held, the county-seat was to be located;

and Weaverville and Eureka (now in Humboldt County and its seat of justice) contended for the honor. When the votes were counted, Simpson's Hole polled seventy-five solid votes for Eureka, and Weaverville was beaten. As there was no such place in the county as Simpson's Hole, Weaverville woke up, petitioned for a new election, which was granted, and this time got the majority.

A court house was built on the ridge overlooking the town, which, until it was burned down a decade or so later, was known as the "Missouri Poorhouse" from the number of men from that State that were elected to

county office. The late Hon. John C. Burch, ex-Congressman and Code Commissioner, a Missourian by birth, got his first start in successful political life by occupying the Missouri Poorhouse as our first County Clerk. Parties were then divided into Whig and Democrat, but with the Missourians, of whom there were many in the county, the first requisite of fitness for office was that the candidate should be a Missourian.

"Dad" Hinkle was a local politician of the Democratic faith, who attended every Democratic convention with as much regularity as if the fate of the nation depended upon his being there. He was an old man, wore no beard, and had been a preacher in his younger days. I cabined with him one summer, when he told me much of his past, informing me among other things, that at the senatorial convention two years before he came within one vote of getting the nomination of his party for senator, and as his party was immensely in the majority and a nomination the equivalent of an election, Dad at once rose to a great height in my estimation, and I regarded myself as highly favored by fortune in having a man of such presumable ability as a cabin mate. But alas! this proud place he held in my thoughts was doomed to receive a terrible fall. Coming home from work one evening, my eyes were attracted by a paper stuck in a split stick on the banks of Dad's water race. I

below. Lawyers, doctors, and merchants ran home to get hats, then sauntered care

of Watter," to be taken out of "Wever crik." Never was an idol torn from its pedestal sooner than was mine. Poor old Dad! He went back to Missouri just before the breaking out of the rebellion, and his sympathies led him at once into the ranks. of the "Minute Men," a secesh body. The last I heard of him, the "Home Guards," a Union company, had killed his son, wounded his son-in-law, and after keeping him tied to a tree for a while as a mark to see how near they could shoot to him without hitting him, let him go on condition that he should leave Missouri, never to return, which he was glad to do.

Its

But with the downfall of the Whig party a change came over the spirit of county politics. "Know-Nothingism" swept over the county like a tornado, carrying everything before it; and as the new party's organization was a secret one, the result was a surprise to those who, like Dad, were faithful to their first political love. growth was only equaled by the rapidity of its decline and fall; for after the first election, to use a common expression, it "never took a trick." The Know-Nothing council in Weaverville held its meetings in the hall of a large frame building, the lower part of which was used as a carpenter's shop, the floor of the hall being thickly covered with sawdust; to save its mysteries from becoming known to the uninitiated who might stroll into the shop below. One fated night, however, the hall was filled with worshipers at the Know-Nothing shrine, including nearly every prominent man in town. The sacred mysteries were being expounded, when there was a crash of falling timbers, a confusion of yells, groans, and shouts, and presently the adherents of the new party came limping out hatless from the ruins of the building, which, tasked beyond its strength, had given way, precipitating the inmates into the shop

any to know what was the matter. Everything was going off smoothly, when the curly hair of a leading attorney was found to be liberally sprinkled with sawdust. Then the murder was out; more than one man of prominence, who the day before had been preaching the "grand old principles of Jefferson, Jackson, and Monroe" upon the street was thus "spotted." But the party had got a pretty firm hold for that time, and the knowledge gained of the personnel of the party could. not be used in time to prevent its success.

Dad was true to the Democracy in its defeat as well as victories, and was still the power that set the ball in motion at his own precinct of Kanaka Bar. When a primary meeting was to be held, he would rustle around to get in the voters and make as imposing a meeting as possible. On one occasion I was passing the door of the store where the primary was to be held, and Dad came out and requested me to tell a certain gentleman who seemed to be a little lukewarm in the cause, to be sure and come over right away, as his presence was wanted. My curiosity was excited to know why the primary needed him so badly and I concluded that although it was none of my funeral" I would go over too. I soon ascertained that my friend was wanted for chairman of the meeting, as all the other independent voters had declined to act, and Dad was keeping himself foot-loose for the purpose of engineering the proceedings. The meeting was composed principally of Germans, newly made citizens, to whom the political machinery of a party caucus was as yet an unknown mystery. There were three Americans present-the prospective chairman, Dad, and Kit Jenkins. Dad nominated my friend for chairman, Kit seconded the nomination, and when the question was put a huge volume of ayes came from the crowd-they could vote, anyway. Dad

nominated Kit for secretary; there was no second to the motion, but the chairman deftly tided the matter along by suggesting that if there was no objection it would be taken as the sense of the meeting that Mr. Jenkins act as secretary. There was none, and Kit assumed his part. The chairman then announced that the business of the meeting was to select two delegates to the .county convention. Mr. Jenkins, who had been nibbling the end of his pen holder, here arose and proposed the chairman and Mr. Hinkle as the two delegates. Then

a blank silence fell upon the assemblage. Dad and the chairman looked appealingly at the assembled voters, as each sat with open mouth waiting to see what would come next.

They looked in vain; but Dad was equal to the occasion. Rising to his feet he said that while under ordinary circumstances he should feel a delicacy in seconding his own nomination, he did not at this time, inasmuch as the chairman was included in the motion, and should therefore do so." The chairman, appreciating the situation, immediately apologized for putting the question as regarded himself, but did so, and another burst of ayes followed.

This business being thus happily settled to the satisfaction of all concerned, Dad once more rose, and moved that a vote of "honor" be given to their late member of the Assembly for his able and dignified course in the last session. Another blank silence followed, the secretary being so busy writing the motion down that he forgot to second it.

I was standing by the bar where Stanhope, the storekeeper, was giving an extra dry citizen a drink. "Charley," said I. "Why don't some of you fellows second that?"

Charley seemed dazed at the audacity of the proposition for a moment, but recovering cried out, "I second dat, Mr. President. Vot is it?" The President hurriedly put the question without giving the desired information, declared it carried, and all was

lovely again.

Trinity had two representatives in the lower branch of the Legislature in its earlier days, but the scepter has departed from the mining counties, and it shares the honor of one with old Shasta now. In those early days, fortunes were readily made by the lucky ones, and among these was one Chamberlain. He had a snug little sum in clear gold gathered up, and came to Weaverville on his way to the old home in "the States." The county convention was to assemble next day, and an idea popped into the mind of Mr. Chamberlain. If he could obtain a legislative nomination in that convention, then decline with thanks, what a feather it would be in his cap. He could show not only wealth but unsought honors as the fruits of his short residence in California. He mentioned it to a friend who was a delegate, and that friend mentioned it to another. Of course Chamberlain did not want the office; he had left diggings that paid better than the meagre ounce a day which then rewarded our Solons at San Jose, Benicia, or wherever the State capital happened at that moment to be. The re

sult of the various confabs was that Chamberlain was nominated for the Assembly on the first ballot.

But when it came to the withdrawal part of the program, it did not appear to him in quite the same light. He thought better of it--in fact, he believed the party really wanted him as its nominee, and he considered himself bound to serve. He was duly elected, drew his pay like a hero, then turned his back upon the setting sun, and the places that had known him knew him

of the party met and agreed upon the terms of an understanding which they felt to be necessary to secure the election of their county ticket. So the two factions, although they had been at swords' points the year before, and were yet, so far as State officers were concerned, agreed through their leaders upon a "slate," which would save the spoils of county office from going into. the hands of the hated "Blacks." Bob Stewart and Jones (since and now Senator from Nevada) were highly acceptable to the Union Democrats, Kruttschnitt would make the ticket "solid" with the German element, Murphy with the Irish, and so on to the end of the chapter, The morning of the convention, however, found a disturbing element in the form of a candidate for the place designed for Kruttschnitt. hurried conclave was held, and it was decided to "let the old man down easy" for he was one of the veterans of the party. The "letting down. easy" was to be done by means of a good complimentary vote, when the old gentleman was to be pacified by the assurance that had he only been in the field a little sooner, his nomination would have been certain, and would be certain for the next term, anyhow.

A

and as he received the promise of a deputyship from the nominee for sheriff, he and his followers fell into the ranks again and labored successfully for the ticket.

Trinity did not take very kindly to the Republican party in its first years of existence, for the record of the vote polled at the presidential election of 1856 showed less than two hundred of that party out of a total of more than 2,100. The first apostle of the Republican creed was one Wheelock, who was treated shamefully, being pelted on the stand with rotten apples and other unsavory missiles. The next day the incipient Republicans of Weaverville met, formed a Republican club, and prepared themselves to give their speakers protection. Wheelock was soon followed by Frank M. Pixley, who made one of the best political speeches ever delivered in Weaverville. The Republicans at once enlisted Mr. Pixley's services for other parts of the county, and he visited among other places Ridgeville, then the center of an extensive mining district. Some of the mischief makers there determined to annoy the expounders of the new political faith, and an Irish butcher named Rycroft was charged with certain stunning questions to ask him. Fremont, the candidate for president, had been charged, whether justly or not does not matter, with certain shady transactions in cattle; and it will be remembered that a short time previous to the time of which we are writing, P. T. Herbert, a Democratic Congressman from California, had shot and killed a waiter at the hotel in which he was stopping at Washington. Pixley was launched out on his theme, and was laying it down to an interested audience, when Rycroft's voice was heard:

"Mr. Pixley, can yez tell me when Fremont is going to butchering again?"

"Just as soon as Phil Herbert quits butchering Irishmen," answered Pixley, turning his voice towards the speaker, and then going on with his discourse as if no

interruption had occurred. Rycroft was completely squelched, and gave the wouldbe disturbers of the meeting to understand that if any more information was sought, they must ask it themselves.

66

Rycroft afterward made a little attempt at political honors on his own responsibility. The township in which Weaverville is situated was a large and wealthy one at that time, and the office of justice of the peace, if judiciously handled," could be made to pay between three and four thousand dollars in fees, which sum coming in every year possessed a wonderful fascination to the eyes of many a solid citizen, and the columns of the local paper teemed on election years with the announcements of independent candidates for that office; and one year the name of Mr. Rycroft appeared in the list. But when the voice of the sovereigns was heard through the ballot box, its tones spoke not for Rycroft. He remained until the last ballot of several hundred cast was counted-then went gloomily home. Next morning coming early down street, he met one of his countrymen, who at once accosted him:

"An' were ye elected yestherday, Rycroft? I hope ye was; I did all I could for ye."

The flexors and extensors of Mr. Rycroft's right arm immediately moved, and his inquisitive countryman lay prone upon the sidewalk. "Take that, ye lying spalpeen," he roared as he stood over him, ready to repeat the blow; "I got but one vote, an' I put that in meself."

Wagon road communication was not had between Trinity and the outside world, until about 1857, when the first road was built, which has since yielded an enormous income to its owners. All communication was performed and all goods brought into the county upon mule back; and as a matter of consequence, freight and passenger travel ranged at a high rate, and goods of all kinds, especially heavy goods, sold at prices that would

depopulate the county in the present condition of the mines. The heaviest prices paid were in the memorable winter of 1852-3, when every article that could be used to sustain life was sold at fabulous prices. A ring of speculators had made a "corner" on the Chili flour which then sold so extensively all over California, and country merchants were distrustful of laying in a large supply at the high prices it commanded in the markets below. Consequently, when the rain set in early in November, such an isolated portion of the State as Trinity then was, was taken at great disadvantage, and although money was plentiful and gold dust readily mined out with the superabundance of water which deluged the earth, much suffering was experienced. As high as $2 per pound was paid for flour, nails one dollar each, barley, sixty cents a pound, and everything in the same. proportion.

The rains and snows continued to fall, completely closing the rude trails over the mountains, while the river, creeks, and ravines became foaming torrents. The nearest basis of supplies was Shasta City, forty miles distant; and Shasta City itself was forty miles above Red Bluff, to which place river steamers of the Sacramento were just beginning to run, though the general head of navigation on that stream still continued for some time to be at Colusa. It is then no cause of wonder that prices of everything edible should rise to the highest figure, that in some few instances the miners, after the manner of Fenimore Cooper's Indian heroes should indulge in the luxury of a dog feast. whenever one could be got, or that very many robbed the mule trains of their provender and lived for days at a time on boiled barley straight.

As, however, there is never a state of affairs so bad that some one is not benefited, so it was in the wet winter of 1852. Right at the mouth of Weaver Creek, a fine piece of rich bottom land of some sixty or eighty acres was owned by Lathrop. He had