[R. L. Fulton, Reminiscences of Nevada, from Nevada Historical Society Papers vol. 1 (1909)]

REMINISCENCES OF NEVADA.

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R. L. FULTON.

(Address at Annual Meeting of Historical Society, June 8, 1908.)

            There are Indians still living in Nevada whose lives go back to the prehistoric, and we call things ancient at sixty years.

            This generation has seen the Great Basin change from the silence and solitude of the primeval desert—into a civilization the highest the world has ever seen, and life here gives a cross section of all human history, from the witch doctor to the telephone girl. The tepee stands besides the electric power plant, and the ice machine and the automobile are familiar to the basket maker, whose art is the oldest in history.

            Sixty years ago the region in which we now live was an uninhabited wilderness marked on the map as a sandy desert, with wild Indians, rattlesnakes, bear and buffalo for residents, without a white man's home within hundreds of miles on either side. Since that time a limited number of us have gathered in from the four quarters of the globe and have made homes for ourselves and our families. Here we have married, here our children have been born, here some of them lie buried. Shut in by ourselves we have formed a government of our own, and have been admitted to the Union as a State, given our share in the honors and responsibilities of the Nation. We have been influential in times of danger in questions of importance, and the history of our country puts Nevada in no mean light.

            We have been at some disadvantage because there were so few of us, but that was not our fault. It was the fault, not of us who were here, but of those who did not come. I do not feel that we average worse than people of other States. We knew as much as our neighbors in our old homes, and we certainly should have learned a little in making our way across the mountains and the deserts to this strange land, where we had new conditions to contend with and new difficulties to overcome. And yet this State has been astonishingly unpopular at times and the Scripture has been paraphrased to read instead of "Can any good thing come out of Nazareth?" "Can any good thing come out of Nevada?"

            As a matter of fact we came into the Union unwillingly, and by a large vote declined the honor. But Abraham Lincoln persuaded us, and at the second election we assumed the burden, and my own opinion is that we have done far more than our share in proportion to our numbers in every war and in every way.

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            We would have been a much better State in point of wealth and territory but for the unfortunate ignorance of geography in Congress. When California was made a State the enabling Act defined the eastern boundary as beginning at the point where the 35th parallel of latitude intersected the Colorado River and running thence northwest to the 120th meridian, thence north along the summits of the Sierra Nevada to the Oregon line. That would have given us all the streams with their watersheds, their storage sites, their forests of timber, their ice fields, all invaluable to us in reclaiming the dry valleys of our State. To show you how valuable, there is virtually no timber in our present State boundaries, and, as another item, all the natural ice that goes to supply California, Arizona, and all parts of New Mexico and Texas is harvested on our big handsome Truckee River.

            But a Californian was sent to survey the State line, John F. Kidder, and when he reached the point where the line running northwest reached the 120th meridian, he found it in the middle of Lake Tahoe, and instead of following the summits of the Sierra he followed the 120th meridian, and here we are. When Nevada was admitted Congress sent a memorial to California, and our Legislature sent a committee asking their Legislature to right the boundary, but all the reception they got was a notice to keep off the grass. The people on this side of the mountains wanted to be a part of Nevada and they still want to, for four or five of their county officers have to come through our State Capital and cross the mountains at Reno to reach California's Capital. There was a battle over it in Honey Lake Valley when the Sheriff of Plumas came there to execute service. He and his posse of one hundred men were besieged in an old log barn still standing in a Susanville orchard, and you can still count lots of bullet holes in its walls.

            The first white man who ever gazed upon what is now the State of Nevada was one Garces, a Jesuit, who was in Arizona in 1776. He interviewed the Yavapai Indians, whose place of residence lay north of the river, and that would bring him into Nevada. In 1825 an exploring party wandered along, and Fremont and others followed, but they knew very little of the country between Salt Lake and the Pacific Ocean. At first they thought the rivers ran from Humboldt into the ocean, and even Fremont thought that the Truckee and Carson were one stream.

            The country was hardly considered of sufficient importance to have even a name until the discovery of gold in California. Then began that vast romance for which the discovery of silver in Nevada, ten years later, furnished the second chapter. Lying directly across the path, with unbeaten roads, and landmarks almost entirely wanting, with hostile Indians on every side, with streams bank full one month

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and almost dry the next, this region became the scene of many a tragedy, and its early history, if it could be written, would unravel many a mystery. Unknown graves dot the line from one end of the State to the other, showing where, sick and weary, the adventurer fell by the wayside and was buried with scant ceremony. The journey was always dangerous and exciting. Storms were frequent, the road was lost, mirages led the unwary to destruction, food gave out, starvation overtook the caravan, and disasters of all kinds form the materials for many a story now told by the Argonauts in these happy days as they gather their grandchildren around their knees.

            History records few migrations of men equal to that produced by the discovery of the Comstock Lode. The placer mines of California had begun to fail when the Washoe excitement captured the coast, and a tide of men poured over the Sierra Nevada range in a perfect torrent. The mines were discovered in June, 1859, and the next spring we had 7,000 people. Within twelve months twenty quartz mills were built, and as many sawmills were cutting lumber in the hills. All the machinery was hauled at a cost of from 5 to 10 cents a pound freight charges. In 1861 over 17,000 people were in the mountains, and in 1862 the number had doubled. It was a strange and motley crowd, but it had blood and nerve and high courage.

            It was not the drone, the sloven, nor the coward who stood ready to fling all his enterprises and prospects to the breezes, and start out over an almost impassable range of mountains for a strange land, where he knew there, were untold dangers and difficulties. The pilgrims were of all classes—the rich man's son, who, had been through the best schools; the poor boy who had been through none; the small and the large, the witty and the dull; but all had self-reliance and determination and grit a plenty. They ran the gamut from poverty to wealth and back to poverty again, some of them many times. Fabulous gains and losses were common, and everybody had an even chance.

            Stocks were sold on every corner, and like the turn of a card men watched for the next deal. Union sold for 15 cents a share in January of one year, and in September of the same year was worth $200 in cash. Sierra Nevada was a dollar in May, and $275 in September. Belcher was 90 cents when one day a miner struck a thin line of ore no thicker than a knife blade. It opened out, and the next month the stock sold for $1,500. The creation of sudden wealth has a marked effect upon the mind and character of men. It was shown in many ways—in luxurious living, in bold operations in finance, in the construction of great works, in boring tunnels through the hills, in vivid journalism, in splendid oratory, and always in generosity and benevolence.

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            The times were wild, and life was at its flood. Some one has said that one man living alone means suicide. Two mean murder. Three certainly mean dissipation, and it requires the refining influence of woman to make society safe and healthy. Women were few at first, but they came in later, and no race of men was ever more susceptible to the softer and gentler influences of the human heart. No appeal was made in vain, and the generous response to charity and benevolence was ample and ready.

            The whole region between the Sierra Nevada Mountains and Salt Lake was known as Washoe to the outside world, and the Washoe bar had the reputation everywhere of being the most brilliant ever assembled. For wit, learning and oratory its equal has probably never been seen. The suits over mining ground, every inch of which was known to contain a fortune, brought men of the first class into the arena, and there were battles among the giants.

            In business and in all the walks of life the cultivated scholar rubbed shoulder with the laborer, and so near to nature were they that they knew each other and every one was taken at full value. The conventionalities of society were broken up, and the man who could solve the problem came to the front no matter what his education or his antecedents were. Here silver mining in America was born, and Nevada was headquarters for the whole earth for years, so that every day reports from a dozen of its mines were flashed upon the bulletin boards in the money markets of America and Europe.

            Among such men and with these conditions special types were certain to arise, and I know of no one who rose higher in every sense of the word than the man whose name we commemorate to-day. It is difficult to speak with discrimination of a man like Mr. Mackay. It is so easy to fall into fulsome flattery which offends the ear and means nothing. Even a friend must be at a loss for a correct analysis of such a character.

            An old-time story tells of an Oriental prince who sat cross-legged upon his cushion one sunny afternoon in the ancient days. A secretary or some official brought a fine vase and set it before him and from it arose a vapor which spread and enlarged as it rose. Soon he saw the lines of his own face, but magnified and beautified and glorified. In his astonishment he said: "Can this be me?" "Yea; said the servant, "that is you, not as you are, but as you ought to be."

            And it is so that we see those who have gone from our firesides and from our circle of friends. The sanctified shadows of the great valley hide their little faults and defects, but their virtues and their lovable qualities rise and shine in lines of light even from beyond the grave.

            I would be glad to give the many strangers and newcomers an idea of the interesting character we knew so well and for so many years

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in Nevada. Truth is stranger than fiction, and it certainly seems a romance that this plain, simple-minded man should rise from the ranks and reach the summit of success. For his success was real and not artificial. Very few men on this continent, or indeed any other, stood higher than John Mackay, who from an everyday miner rose to sit beside princes and kings with dignity and repose.

            There must have been a good background for such a life as his, and it goes beyond the seas in a line of worthy ancestry. I could not help comparing Mr. Mackay with my own father, who was a native of the beloved Emerald Isle and came to America at the age of twenty. They had the sturdy strength of their race, and bore the manly part in the battle of life. There is no politics here, but to be historically correct, we must say that neither of them joined the party so popular with their countrymen, and neither ever asked for an office of any kind. Mr. Mackay could have had any office on the roll, but would not even talk about it.

            Mr. Mackay and I were friends, for he did not measure his friendships by dollars, and I have never heard a man in Nevada begrudge him his rise to fortune. He was a born gentleman, and although I have ridden with him thousands of miles, often we two alone and often in company, I never heard him say a word or relate a story that any lady might not hear. He was clear-headed, sound-minded, and patriotic in the best sense, a friend of the poor man and the laborer as well as of the classes that form society. He was singularly free from sectarian prejudice and all the churches were the objects of his bounty. When the grand conclave of Knights Templar met in San Francisco he made a liberal donation and said, "Don't be behind." The Knights took the hint and turned out on coal-black horses with their silver bullion ornamenting their regalia, and as the guard of honor for the Grand Master of the world were at the head of the line.

            Mr. Mackay was never assuming, and in his early days on the Comstock he said many times that if he ever got a stake of ten thousand dollars he was going to the old country and fix his mother comfortable for life.

            I have heard him say that the man who had saved two hundred thousand dollars and worked for more did not know what he was doing.

            Mr. Mackay made his first good start in Kentuck, and there is an incident in his career which I have never seen in print. The mine was held in feet, as were all the mines in early days, and the owners undertook to incorporate, but were unable to do so, as one large owner could not be found. A liberal bonus was offered for the man who could get the deed for this part of the ground. Mr. Mackay disappeared and was gone for nine or ten months during the year 1863, when the war was in full vigor. He came back with the deed, but no one could ever

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learn where he had spent the time. It is said that he went through the Rebel lines and found his man fighting in the field. The stock went to $22,000 a share and he reaped a fortune.

            Not long after the Big Bonanza firm, Mackay, Fair, Flood, O'Brien and Walker, was formed to operate the Hale and Norcross. Walker sold to Mr. Mackay, so while each of the others owned one-fifth, he owned two-fifths of their immense property. After Hale and Norcross they opened the Con. Virginia-California bonanza and became men of World-wide reputation.

            Their mining interests were not only on an immense scale, but were carried on with the highest intelligence. Mr. Fair was a fine millwright and mechanic, but the mining fell to Mr. Mackay, and the systems of ventilation, of handling the ores, reducing the water, etc., have never been surpassed. A large body of water was found in the Big Bonanza and its limits were defined; it was bottled up and the mining carried on around it on every side, as well as top and bottom.

            In pioneer days the courts were never appealed to, and in a law-suit with the late Tommy Freehill, in Downieville, a court was called to decide a dispute between him and Mr. Mackay about mining ground. Each man stated his case to the crowd of miners assembled in the open street. The crowd then divided and expressed its verdict by each man going on the side of a pole slung between posts. The man who got the greatest number on his side won, in this case Mr. Mackay.

            Once in Virginia City a rascally pair undertook to blackmail Mr. Mackay and he set rich men a good example by fighting them both into the Penitentiary, one for perjury, the other for blackmail.

            Mr. Mackay never gave "pointers," as some men do, and when I asked him half in joke what was a good buy in stocks, he laughed and said, "Oh, I don't know anything about stocks. Ask Kelly." Kelly sat by and joined in the smile, as he could afford to do, having just recently led a deal in which it was declared that he salted the Lady Bryan and cleaned up the neighborhood, including his own wife.

            I said once: "Mr. Mackay, you are an object of great interest to the average man. The very fact that, where the rest of us have to study how to get money for school books and shoes for the children, you have no reason to give money the least concern puts you in a separate class and probably gives you some experiences of your own, and, no doubt, new views of lifer

            He answered: "Yes, I realize that. I used to figure on every cent, and now I don't know whether I spend a thousand a month or ten thousand, and I don't care. But one thing I notice. I used to enjoy an occasional game of poker, and if I won I liked it, and if I lost I felt it. But now I don't care whether I win or lose, and I have lost the taste for it entirely, and, candidly, I miss it some."

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            I do not think Mr. Mackay knew fear. He was often warned against danger, but never took any precautions. I sat in the end of the sleeper late one night on the train, and at Boca or some little station two men boarded the car. One unwrapped a long package and taking a pick from it stood before Mr. Mackay, stood over him in fact, one hand stretching to the wall and the other holding the pick by one end in front of Mr. Mackay's face. He said: " What do you think of that, Mr. Mackay?" and held out the pick. Mr. Mackay waited for an explanation, and I sat ready to spring if the man moved, and he said he had invented this point for the pick, removing it and showing that it could be taken off and sharpened, another replacing it. I felt relieved, though I do not know as Mr. Mackay even thought of danger, as he did not make the slightest sign. I believed then, and do now, that the man was entirely innocent of any evil intent.

            When this country resumed specie payment there was great doubt in the minds of many as to our ability to bear the burden. Mr. Mackay called on President Grant and offered to take a hundred million of the bonds required to sustain the three hundred and forty-six millions of greenbacks and the gold and silver rolling in a steady stream from the Con. Virginia and the California made his word good. The necessity did not arise, but I have heard from a worthy source that this is true. Grant was his friend, and he acted as guide for him and his wife and son through the great Comstock mines. Garfield and he were intimates, and his pride in his State led him to work hard to carry the State for his friend on the Presidential ticket and for his partner on the opposite ticket for the Senate, but it failed and Hancock carried Nevada much against Mr. Mackay's will.

            But I must close. To linger over the days of yore is said to be a sign of approaching age. While those days are gone we are fortunate in having for a friend the son of our former friend, and he and his mother and his wife are carrying out a noble scheme which will establish the name of Mackay imperishably in the State he loved so well. Let us sanctify the gift by supporting in every way the intentions of the generous donors.