Treasure Hill

Portrait Of A Silver Mining Camp

W. Turrentine Jackson

• Publisher: University of Nevada Press
• Year: 2016
• ISBN:
  9781943859160
• Topic: History
• Subtopic: World History
• Index: History

In 1868, the discovery of an exceptionally rich silver ore on Treasure Hill in eastern Nevada led to an intense but short-lived boom. The White Pine Mining District was quickly organized, and in time a new Nevada county was created with that name. The boom lasted only two seasons, but dogged investors, mostly British, spent more than twenty years pursuing the dream of making White Pine a prosperous mining district before they withdrew and left behind only disappointment and ghost towns. W. Turrentine Jackson's study of Treasure Hill, first published in 1963, has endured as a classic case study of a typical mining district in the western United States. Much more than events at the Comstock Lode in Virginia City, the rush to White Pine, its brief season of glory and excitement followed by sudden decline, typifies the pattern of development in the majority of mining districts in the West. Far more than a tale of sudden wealth and lawlessness—although both were abundant— Treasure Hill encompasses the impact of growing international capitalism and labor movements on the mining West, the bitter politics surrounding the creation of towns and counties, and the human costs of boom and bust. Available again in a new paperback edition, with a foreword by mining historian Joseph V. Tingley, Treasure Hill offers readers a lively, thoroughly researched account of one of Nevada's richest and briefest mining booms.

CHAPTER ONE

THE BEGINNING

One July night in 1867, while asleep in his shanty on the slopes of White Pine Mountain, Albert J. Leathers, a blacksmith turned prospector, was awakened by a noise from his culinary utensils. He observed in the darkness the form of an Indian devouring his dwindling supply of beans. Leathers, whose hard labor and scanty fare had made him neither generous nor peaceful, rose quickly and drove the forager into the night. A few days later a Paiute, known as Jim, appeared, this time to make his peace with Leathers. As a goodwill offering, he presented a piece of silver ore. The blacksmith melted the specimen in his forge and wrought a button of silver through which he punched a hole making a ring that became his prized possession.¹

Leathers had been with a group of Reese River miners wandering amongst the parched valleys and rugged mountains of eastern Nevada and found evidences of silver on the western slopes of White Pine Mountain as early as the autumn of 1865. Immediately he and his partners called together scattered prospectors to organize a mining district to protect their find. A dozen miners or less, who assembled on the slopes of White Pine Mountain, claimed jurisdiction over twelve square miles, including Treasure Hill. With Robert Morrill presiding, the experienced group agreed to allow each claimant two hundred feet on any “lead” in the district with a right to follow all “dips, spurs, angles, offshoots, outcrops, depths, and variations” wherever they might lead. In accordance with established practice, the discoverer of any new “ledge or lode” was to receive a double claim. After locating his claim, the prospector was required to post a written notice on the ground and record his location within fourteen days. District laws could not be amended, altered, or repealed for two years.

As usual, the recorder was the key man in the mining district, and Thomas J. Murphy, Leathers’ partner, was elected to the job for a two-year term. It was his duty to keep a suitable set of books, or at least one book, giving a “full and truthful” record of the proceedings of all public meetings of the miners, to record all claims and notices brought to him in the order of their date, and to make certain new claims did not conflict with the old. The recorder’s books were to be open at all times for public inspection, but they were not to be examined except in his, or his deputy’s, presence. This would prevent alteration of the records. An unusual decision was made when the recorder was not required to reside in the district. The founders, accustomed to wandering far and wide, recognized that the recorder should be free to leave the district temporarily in search of better prospects during his two-year term without jeopardizing his job, as long as he designated a deputy to act in his absence. If he was unable to perform his duties during his term of office, a successor could be elected at a meeting called upon the petition of fifty miners in the district, provided there were that many around. Notices of the meeting call had to be posted in the district and advertisements placed in the Reese River papers for thirty days so interested parties could arrange to attend. Although equality of opportunity was preserved and the democratic process provided for under specified conditions, the founders had also made certain that they controlled the district, at least until its potential could be determined.²

Low-grade ore from White Pine Mountain transported to Austin for reduction produced only from $70 to $150 worth of silver a ton. For this small return, a few miners chose to remain in the district during the winter of 1866. Thomas Murphy, a man of ambition and enterprise, left eastern Nevada in search of capital to build a small mill on the site of the new discovery, thereby eliminating the labor and cost of transporting ore. In San Francisco, he promoted the organizing of the Monte Cristo Mining Company. Unsuccessful in his efforts to raise money in California for this milling operation, he went to Philadelphia with samples of ore from the White Pine District. Here he obtained the funds to hire a trained metallurgist, Edward Marchand, who was to return with him to examine the claims and, if advisable, eventually to build and superintend the Monte Cristo Mill.³

Before leaving White Pine, Murphy exercised his right under the laws of the district by naming his partner Leathers the deputy recorder. Leathers was a reliable but unimaginative miner. He guarded the claim and worked hard at extracting low-grade ore. It was while he was awaiting Murphy’s return that he had the fateful encounter with the Indian, Jim. He prevailed upon the Paiute to take him to the spot where the specimen of rich silver ore had been found and their trail led to the top of Treasure Hill. This “hill,” six miles in length and three in breadth, was nine thousand feet above the level of the sea. Its easterly and westerly slopes were abrupt and rugged; the northern and southern sides provided a more gentle slope for visitors like Leathers and Jim. The hill was destitute of water, the nearest springs being along the mountain sides of the encircling valley.

As the prospector and the Indian stood on the wind-swept crest they were in desolate and unknown country. The northern and southern boundaries of the state of Nevada were approximately two hundred and fifty miles away, the eastern boundary was slightly less than one hundred miles, and the California-Nevada line three hundred miles distant to the west. Carson City, capital of the state, was due west two hundred and seventy-five miles; Austin, the nearest mining town, was slightly north of west, one hundred and twenty miles away; Jacob’s Well, the nearest station on the Overland Road was sixty miles to the north; and two hundred and twenty miles S.S.E. was Callville, head of navigation on the Colorado River.⁴ Leathers knew that the White Pine Mountains form one of the larger Great Basin ranges, lying about midway between the Wasatch and Sierra Nevada uplifts. From their vantage point the two men observed that, like most ranges in the Basin, this ridge lay in a north-south direction. Broad desert valleys separated it from the Pancake Range on the west and the Egan Range on the east, where the town of Ely was to be founded. Between the Pancake and White Pine ranges a broad depression was observed full of alkali flats and mud lakes formed by the drainage of the surrounding hills.⁵ Prospectors like Leathers, who had roamed the eastern Nevada terrain, had discovered that this broad depression, later known as Railroad Valley, stretched northward a hundred miles to the Humboldt River and southward nearly double that distance. On the westerly margin of the mining district the two men located the bold and craggy outline of a ridge from whence they had come rising from the desert, the crest of which was known as Pogonip, or White Pine Mountain, eleven thousand feet high. Scanning the horizon eastward from this peak they noted the high rolling hills and irregular topography and located the Mokomoke Ridge that formed the eastern and northern borders of their mining district. Treasure Hill, where they stood, was a prominent knoll surrounded by a deep valley with White Pine Mountain to the west and the Mokomoke Ridge to the north and east.⁶

When Leathers returned to his claim at White Pine Mountain after his trip with Jim he decided to call a meeting of the miners in the district to revise their by-laws, in spite of the fact that the two-year time limit had three months to run. The date was set for Saturday morning, July 20. Miners who assembled along the slopes of Mohawk Canyon agreed that it was logical for Leathers, already deputy recorder, to serve as secretary. They brought to the discussion a rich and varied mining experience of the past twenty years. Many had been in California during the rush of 1849, had witnessed the decline of the easily-worked placers within two seasons, and had learned that investment capital or technical experience was essential to develop quartz, hydraulic, or deep tunnel mining. Each miner had soon faced one of two alternatives, either he agreed to work as a hired laborer under supervision for a daily wage or he went on a prospecting trip to find a new claim. Men with the temperament of those who had reached White Pine chose to search for a new El Dorado. Hundreds of California camps with picturesque names, like Git-up-and-Git, Skunk Gulch, Whiskey Bar, and Hell’s Delight, had known their days of glory and were later abandoned.⁷ Each spring rumors circulated in the mining camps of the Pacific slope that a new discovery had been made, a rush was precipitated, but those who went were disappointed. Then in 1859 two major rushes developed: to the Washoe Mines on the eastern slope of the Sierra Nevada Mountains, and to the heart of the Colorado Rockies. Most of the Californians heading east got only as far as western Nevada. The evolution of the mining industry whereby claims of individuals or partners were consolidated into corporate enterprises capable of investing more heavily in mining and milling machinery came more rapidly in Nevada than it had in California.⁸ Some disappointed miners wandered northeastward into the Snake River Valley in search of new placers that could be worked by a man without capital. They drifted from north to south along this stream working every tributary flowing in a westerly direction. In 1860 they made discoveries on the Clearwater Fork, in 1861 on the Salmon, and in 1862 on the Boise. Mass migrations followed one year behind the discoverers on each of these streams. Some crossed the mountains into the Montana region, and starting in 1862 each of the next three mining seasons produced a rush and another boom town.⁹

Other Washoe miners did not have the will or the means to venture as far as the “Inland Empire” on the Northwest but in these same years spread out from Virginia City in all directions. In 1860, one party headed toward the southeast and discovered quartz ledges containing blue streaks indicating sulphurets of silver along the sides of a hill since known as Esmeralda. Five thousand prospectors arrived to establish another boom town at Aurora which was designated by the Legislature of California as the capital of the newly created county of Mono until boundary surveys revealed the town was actually in Nevada.¹⁰ In the spring of 1861 another group of gold and silver mines were discovered in the Humboldt Mountains northeast of Washoe. A half-dozen mining districts were organized during the next two years but the cycle of boom and bust repeated itself within four working seasons.¹¹ In 1862, ore-bearing quartz was found in the Toiyabe Mountains where the overland mail route crossed the Reese River. The town of Austin was built as a supply center and became the capital of Lander County. The Reese River rush drew off surplus laborers and the more restless prospectors from western Nevada. Although the yield steadily increased from 1863 to 1868, many unsuccessful prospectors once again fanned out from Austin like the spokes in a wheel to make new discoveries and establish a dozen new mining districts: Ione to the southwest, Cortez to the northeast, and most notably Eureka, Ruby, and Diamond to the east where the foundations for Eureka County were laid.¹²

Most of the miners on White Pine Mountain, talking over the revisions in the laws of the district, had begun their mining careers in California, no doubt a few had Idaho and Montana experience, and all had prospected in one or more of the short-lived districts in western or central Nevada. They had participated in the formation of many district by-laws. It was quickly agreed that too many miners who had been in the White Pine area between 1865 and 1867 had located and registered claims, but had done no work to develop them. The miner now had to work his claim to hold it. Within ten days after discovery, claims had to be filed and before forty days had elapsed at least two days’ work had to be performed. More important, prior claims were to be valid only until July, 1868. After that date every claim had to be worked each and every year or be forfeited. Only those who stayed and worked were to benefit. Provisions were also made in case a partnership should break up. If one or more of the locators on a joint claim refused to contribute the legal amount of work, a portion of that claim could be segregated for the remaining owners. However, before an individual could designate what part of the claim he wished to hold, the recorder had to give a twenty-day warning to his partners. The term of the recorder was now for a single year. Upon written application of five men, a special meeting of miners could be called, but the majority of the miners in the district had to be present to transact business. At the regular annual meeting in July a majority of those present could settle any problem presented to the group. No person could have the privilege of participating in any meeting unless he was a bona fide miner and had his claim registered and worked as provided in the by-laws. No change was proposed in the basic decision to allow each claimant two hundred feet on the ledge with the right to follow all the meanderings of the vein.¹³

Murphy, upon his return from Philadelphia in September, 1867, heard the exciting news about the recent discovery from his partner, Leathers, and no doubt was shocked to learn that he had concentrated on revising the by-laws of the district, wiping out the rights of those who were not on hand to work their claims, and had failed to locate a new claim at Treasure Hill. Murphy and Marchand joined Leathers and Jim – afterwards known as “Napias Jim” because “napias” was the local Indian name for silver – in a hasty return trip to the hill. On the summit of this bare and windy peak, Jim showed them silver in abundance. Notices of location were immediately made on the ground. For some unexplained reason no work was done to perfect their claim, nor efforts made to record it. Perhaps they acted on the assumption that the working season was over and that winter weather would prohibit further prospecting. Early in November Leathers returned to Treasure Hill, possibly with second thoughts about the advisability of doing a little work, and found that two prospectors had preceded him there. The newcomers had staked out rights to a portion of the same footage selected by Murphy and Leathers and were doing the work essential to perfect their claims under the laws of the district. Rather than quarreling over their respective rights, all agreed to record a claim along the uncovered silver deposit in Murphy’s book on November 14 with the last arrivals having precedence over Leathers and his associates. The discovery became known as the Hidden Treasure.¹⁴

News of the discovery spread rapidly through the Nevada wilderness. T. E. Eberhardt, another miner from Austin, braved the snows of winter to climb Treasure Hill and stake a claim bearing his name on January 3, 1868. Within a few days of Eberhardt’s visit a deep snow fell and the inclement weather prevented further exploration.

Experienced prospectors had previously passed over this hill in an unsuccessful search for mines. The geology of the district was mystifying. The float-rock had an unusual appearance. It was generally dark, with a slight reddish or rusty tinge, sometimes yellow, or even black, and looked much like a specimen of limestone colored with oxide of iron. When broken, it was heavy and compact, with a dull, uncompromising lustre, very different from that usually shown by rich quartz.¹⁵ The deposits along the crest of the hill lay flat. Some observers thought that it looked as though a large ledge had been broken off and thrown down on the surface. When it was too late to remedy the situation, all agreed it had been a mistake to allow a discoverer to follow wherever the vein led. The miners, as a group, would have been much better off if locations had been made by the square yard without the right to dig beyond the assigned footage, but to dig as deep as they wished. Fear was immediately expressed that the oldest claimants would swallow up a thousand potential holdings if they had time to work their two hundred feet on the outcropping of ore, and the courts declared them entitled to the pursuit of their find. To check this development, the flats and hillsides were quickly perforated with shafts as soon as the melting snow made possible the return of the miners. There was also an indiscriminate scramble to gouge out the richest ore. From the first, conflicting claims disrupted the peace, and mountain flats became fields of strife and shooting affrays. Lawyers and courts were to be furnished business for many years.¹⁶

Not knowing the true value of his find, as is often the case, Eberhardt parted with his property during the winter to another group of prospectors – Frank Drake, Edward Applegarth, J. W. Crawford, E. R. Sproul, Lavern Barris, and John Turner – who took several tons of the ore to Austin for reduction. The new owners were amazed and the town was electrified by the news that while some tons produced only $450 worth of silver, others yielded as much as $27,000.¹⁷

The discovery was timely. After a four-year boom, 1859–63, the Comstock ore chutes near the surface w...