San Joaquin

County History

History of San Joaquin County, California with Biographical Sketches - Historic Record Company, Los Angeles, CA - 1923

CHAPTER VIII
EARLY DAY TRANSPORTATION

        SHAKESPEARE, in his play of Henry VI, causes King Edward to exclaim:

"What fates impose, that man must needs abide;

It boots not to resist both wind and tide."

        Was it fate that impelled the pioneers to rush to California, and undertake the various occupations of life, some to become gold-diggers, others merchants and a few ferrymen over the San Joaquin, Stanislaus and Mokelumne rivers? Fate or no fate, many of them engaged in that business, an occupation as necessary in building up the county as any other line of work. So essential were the ferries that they were doing business before the organization of the county, and twelve licensed ferries were in operation in 1850. Without the ferry, business could not have been transacted nor the traveler journey from county to county, for in the spring there were swift-running rivers to cross and not a bridge in the territory.

First Ferry Boat

        The oldest and one of the best patronized ferries was one on the San Joaquin River later known as the Moss Ferry, near the present crossing of the Southern Pacific railroad bridge. It was established in 1849, by John Doak and Jacob Bonsell; these two men in1848, returning from the gold mines, concluded to establish a ferry, at the point named, and they began operations by running a small yawl across the river carrying passengers. Later in the year John Doak, going to Corte de Madera, in Marin County, there built a ferry boat of the timber then growing upon the point. He sailed the boat up stream as far possible and then towing it the balance of the distance, made the trip from point to point in two weeks. The boat or barge was placed in position, and a long heavy rope stretched from shore to shore. By this means the boat was pulled to and fro across the river. The charges to cross were one dollar for a foot­man, three dollars for a man on horseback, and $8.00 for a wagon and horses. The ferry did an immense business, for it was on the direct road from Sacramento through Stockton to San Jose and Oakland. There was no other way to reach the coast overland. John Doak, the enterprising but restless pioneer, soon tired of the ferry business and in 1852 sold his interest to Hiram Scott. John Bonsell dying that year in New York, his widow took over the ferry. Shortly afterward, Mrs. Bonsell married James A, Shepherd, who for a season took charge of the ferry. In 1856 it was purchased by William T. Moss, who soon afterward established the San Francisco Examiner.

Heath & Emory Ferry

        The Heath & Emory Ferry, a short distance below the present town of Ripon, on the Stanislaus River, was established in January, 1850. A few months later the ferry was purchased by the two partners, who were enterprising men and believed in printer's ink. In the first issue of the Stockton Times they advertised their ferry, saying that it was twenty-seven miles from Stockton. Their boat "was thirty feet long and nine feet wide and enclosed with side railings for horses, cattle and mules." They also had every "accommodation for travelers in the tent adjoining the ferry." They also made a good road to the ferry, built at a cost of $3,000, thus avoiding the cut-off. The great event of that ferry was the arrival in March, 1850, of a Mrs. Jenkins and her husband on their way to Crescent City. The ferry­man was so pleased at the sight of a woman that he gave her party, at supper time, a private table, a bottle of wine and an oyster stew in addition to the regular fare of coffee, bread, pork and beans. In a short time there were over a dozen ferries crossing the Stanislaus River. Each ferry had a house where they could accommodate travelers over night, and some of the ferrymen carried a small stock of groceries, liquors, tobacco and mining implements.

Benson Ferry Tragedy

        We must now travel north to the Mokelumne River and give a record of the three principal ferries across that river. They did more business than all of the Stanislaus ferries combined, because of the fact that they were the only routes of travel to Sacramento and the Northern mines. The first or the farthest west of these ferries crossed the Mokelumne River a short distance below the present town of New Hope. It was opened for business in 1849 by Edward Stokes and A. M. Woods; the following year the ferry was purchased by John A. Benson, who erected a house on the south side of the river and employed Green C. Palmer to attend the ferry. Benson was the leading spirit in seeking a division of the county in 1859, but before he succeeded he was killed by his employee, Palmer. The cause of the murder was the charge by Palmer that Benson, since 1854, had been intimate with his wife. It was said, however, that like a great many would-be heroes Benson was "more loose in his conversation than in his actions." On the day of the murder February 14, 1859, Palmer was at work plowing on the Benson place, but stopped work at noon-time. During the afternoon Palmer was in Parker's store. Benson came in accompanied by Dr. Hogaboom, and all three men took a drink at the bar. During this time Palmer's four children entered the store, and Benson as was his usual custom, gave them some nuts and candies. Leaving the store, all three men went to Palmer's home. In a short time Benson and the physician left the house and when a short distance away, Benson heard Palmer call out to Benson. Turning Benson saw Palmer running towards him with a revolver in his hand; surmising Palmer's intentions Benson cried out, "Don't, Green," but the murderer exclaimed, "There, you ----- scoundrel you disgraced my children and now you must die," Palmer fired twice in rapid succession each shot hit Benson in a vital spot and he died while being conveyed to the house in a wagon.

        Palmer returned to the house, reloaded his revolver and started on a run for the tules. He was not pursued and the following day Andrew Benson, the brother of the victim, offered a reward of $300 through the newspaper for his arrest. The fugitive was discovered about sunrise by a vaquero who was looking for some lost horses. Palmer was shaking and shivering with cold and hunger, having had nothing to eat since the murder. He gave himself up and taken to Stockton, was brought before Justice McCausland and remanded to jail. He there remained until the meeting of the grand jury in May. He was then indicted on the charge of murder and the trial took place August 4, 1859. There was considerable excitement and the court room was crowded, for each man had many friends. Money was freely spent by Benson's friends and they employed E. D. Baker, the most brilliant orator and attorney in California, to assist the prosecuting attorney, Judge Campbell. Samuel A. Booker defended Palmer. The trial looked crooked from beginning to end. The prosecution put on one witness only, Dr. Hogaboom; the defense five witnesses to prove Palmer's charge. It was one of the shortest murder trials on record. At five o'clock Attorney Booker began his closing speech, ending at eight o'clock. Baker closed at 9:30, and Judge Creanor, delivering his charge, the jury were locked up for the night. Twenty-four hours later they were discharged unable to agree, the jury standing five for murder in the first degree, which meant death by hanging; five for murder in the second degree, and two for acquittal. The second trial took place December 12, with J. G. Jenkins and Judge Campbell for the prosecution and S. A. Booker for the defense. The case was given to the jury at 7:30 and at 1 o'clock the following day they were discharged, nine for acquittal and three for manslaughter. In the third trial, January 3, 1860, the defense found some new witnesses. They proved to be good ones, for the jury brought in a verdict not guilty. After the acquittal Palmer's conscience must have greatly worried him, for on January 26, while in Mokelumne  City, he committed suicide by taking strychnine. His friend, J. H. Veach, running into the house at Mrs. Palmer's call, exclaimed, "Why have you done this?" And like old Adam in the Garden of Eden he replied, "This woman is the cause of all my trouble. I wish to die and get out of my misery."

Woods Ferry

        It is a little strange perhaps that the ferry just east of Benson's should also have its tragedy. The Woods Ferry, as it was called, was located in 1850 by the two brothers, J. P. and Ross C. Sargent. In 1852 Jeremiah H. Woods and Alexander McQueen purchased a tract of land, now Woodbridge, and Mr. Woods established a ferry across the Mokelumne River where now stands the Woodbridge dam. Several years later Mr. Woods built a bridge across the river; it was there in 1864, for it had become a well-traveled stage route to Sacramento. After J. H. Woods' death some four years later, his widow, Mrs. P. H. Woods, petitioned the supervisors to permit her to charge the following tolls, footman ten cents, man on horseback twenty-five cents, two-horse team fifty cents, four-horse team one dollar, loose horses or cattle six cents each, hogs and sheep two and one-half cents. The Woodbridge Messenger reported March 2, 1868, that certain parties had requested the supervisors to postpone action on Mrs. Woods' petition as $2,000 had been subscribed for the purpose of buying and making it a public free bridge.

        The death of Woods was caused by a stab in the abdomen brought about by his own unwarranted actions. A young farmer named William Wilkinson, who lived about a mile north of Woodbridge was walking by Woods' home accompanied by Charles Ashley, Jr., when a dog, running out of the yard, bit the young man on the thigh. Having no weapon he could not defend himself, but concluded that the next time he passed the house he would be ready for the savage brute. A few days later, June 4, 1864, he again passed Woods' house carrying a shotgun. The dog came bounding out but immediately ran back in the yard. A little later in the day Wilkinson saw the dog on the street with other dogs and shot him. Then going to the Union Hotel he left his gun behind the bar and went over to John Ruter's saloon. A short time after Woods hastily entered the saloon exceedingly angry over the killing of his dog, and in threatening manner he went up to Wilkinson and shouted, "Look here, sir, did you kill my dog?" "Yes, I did," Wilkinson replied. Woods then struck the young man twice, then grasping him by the hair of his head pulled Wilkinson to his knees. The young man was unarmed, but thinking of his pocket knife he managed to draw it from his pocket, and opening it made a blind stab at Woods' body. The blade entered a vital spot and Woods in ten minutes was dead. Woods letting go the boy, exclaimed, "Boys, he has stabbed me." Young Wilkinson, then only twenty-two years of age, immediately gave himself up and was brought to Stockton and confined in jail. The next morning he was taken before Justice Baldwin, and after hearing the evidence of five eyewitnesses to the affair, discharged the prisoner on the ground of self-defense.

        It is not to be assumed that it was a lawless community along the Mokelumne River in the days long past, but in general they were a long ways from a peace-loving people. A case somewhat similar to that of the Benson Ferry affair took place in 1856. The principal in the case, C. L. Benedict, the owner of the ferry, had more good sense than Palmer and merely horse-whipped his traducer. The ferry, about six miles west of Staples Ferry, was established in 1852 by C. L. Benedict. He was married and living with him was his sister. For some reason a neighbor named George S. Wilson circulated scandalous stories regarding Miss Benedict and her brother. Benedict one day called Wilson to account and at the point of a revolver and in the presence of two witnesses, John P. Coats and Mathew Wills, he made Wilson sign the following retraction, "the story I have reported about C. S. Benedict and his sister is a willful lie done on purpose to both injure him and her." The following day August 21, 1856, Wilson inserted a card in the newspaper saying "my name to that document was forced from me under threats of my life and when I was prevented from using arms to protect myself. The statement was totally warranted and the sentiment expressed not mine." Benedict then laid for his detractor with a heavy rawhide whip. Two days later he met Wilson on the streets of Stockton and thrashed him unmercifully, inflicting a number of blows on his face and head. Benedict then went to the office of Justice of the Peace Bours, entered a complaint against himself of a breach of peace, and paid his fine. That ended the affair. He died in Central America in 1871.

Staples Ferry

        The ferry a few miles west of Lockeford was established in 1849 by John W. Laird, in order to accommodate the large number of settlers in that vicinity. It was a very popular ferry and on the direct trail from Sutter's Fort to San Jose. It became famous as Capt. John C. Fremont in 1844, crossed the Mokelumne River at that point. Laird sold the ferry in 1850, to Staples, Nichol & Company, and it took the name of Staples Ferry. Soon after Staples took over the ferry he was appointed postmaster of that district and the ferry was selected as a voting precinct. David J. Staples was a man too big for that place and the county too limited for a man of his ability. Joining the Republican party, he was chosen from his state as one of the Abraham Lincoln electors and visited the East to see him inaugurated. Returning to California in 1862, he assisted in the election of Leland Stanford and was appointed port warden. He became a member of the various secret and financial organizations of San Francisco, and president of the Underwriters Association. He was born in Medway, Mass., May 3, 1824, came to California around Cape Horn in 1849, and died in San Francisco April 3, 1900.

County Bridges

        Traveling by a crude rough-built ferry boat operated by man power is neither safe, reliable nor speedy, and in a few years the ferry boat was put out of commission by the building of bridges. They first were built by private enterprise, the owners being permitted to charge toll, and then by the county. The first bridge in the county was erected in 1854 over the Calaveras River at what was then known as the Leach & Frost ranch. The river was not wide but during the spring months the water ran deep and swift, the banks were steep and during these months of spring floods it was impossible to cross the stream. Leach & Frost had built a toll bridge across the river. In December the farmers of that vicinity made liberal donations, money was liberally subscribed by Stockton merchants, the bridge was purchased and opened free to the public. In giving an account of this enterprise the press declared, "All we want now is a bridge over the Mokelumne River to have a fine road to Sacramento." In 1858 Jeremiah H. Woods built a toll bridge across the Mokelumne River at Woodbridge, at a cost of $1,000. His toll charges were one dollar for two horses and wagon and fifty cents for each additional pair of animals. He is said to have taken in $9,000 the first year. The bridge was swept away in the flood of 1862. Soon after a better and more substantial bridge was built by Leonard, the San Francisco bridge builder, and soon after Woods' tragic death it was purchased by the farmers and opened free to the public.

        Bridges were also built at Staples' ferry and at Lockeford before 1860. We have no definite knowledge regarding these bridges; David J. Locke probably built the bridge at Lockeford, for he was a shrewd, enterprising man, and not only endeavored to build up the town but also bid for all of the travel to the Northern mines. Staples Ferry was the upper and better winter route to Sacramento, as Woodbridge was the lower route to the Capital, hence there was a rivalry between the two points. The first bridge of any heavy cost or length was built in 1861 over the Mormon Channel at Pilgrim Street. It was then outside of the city limits and built to accommodate the San Joaquin district fair that year established. The San Joaquin County supervisors, jointly with the supervisors of Stanislaus County, in 1885 erected a bridge across the Stanislaus River at a point then known as Murphy's Ferry. It was a short distance from the present town of Ripon. The cost was $13,880, San Joaquin County paying $8,895 of the amount. The same county officials some twenty years later tore out the old wooden structure and erected a bridge with concrete piers. The bridge is now a part of the State Highway. Tens of thousands of dollars have been spent in this county for the erection of bridges and culverts that in a few years would be worn out and have to be replaced. It was an unavoidable waste because, until a few years ago, concrete for bridges was not a matter of economy because of its scarcity and high cost. Now the supervisors are replacing the old wooden structures with concrete bridges and piers that will last for ages.

Stockton the Mining Depot

        Stockton was known as the depot of the Southern mines and it was rightly named, for all of the freight and passengers for Calaveras, Tuolumne, Fresno and Mariposa counties were compelled to pass through Stockton. There was also considerable freight and travel over this route for Sutter and Amador counties. It was not only necessary to feed and clothe the population of these counties, including San Joaquin County, but to also supply them with working tools, machinery, house­hold furniture, building material and a thousand and one articles used in the many occupations and professions. The population in the mining camps to be supplied through the Stockton depot numbered something like 52,000 persons, with 10,000 in San Joaquin County. Of the mountain population there were 16,299 in Calaveras County, 16,250 in Tuolumne County, 4,628 in Tulare, 4,280 in Mariposa and 12,000 in Amador County. This was the mountain census of 1860, from that period the mines began a decrease in population, the people going into the valley and coast towns. It took an immense amount of freight to supply this population and as early as 1856 the two steamers of the California Steam Navigation Company, the Cornelia and Urilda, in the month of March landed 2,598 tons of freight. During the same time sailing vessels landed 1,019 tons, making 3,617 tons of freight for just one average month. In addition to this there was landed building material, including 235,000 feet of lumber, 50,000 shingles, 4,000 brick and 1,100 fencing posts. In the month of May the same steamers brought up freight aggregating 2,290 tons, the sailing vessels bringing up miscellaneous cargoes of 937 tons. Lumber was landed to the amount of 381,000 feet, laths 28,000, shingles 100,000. The exports during the month were 1,050 barrels of flour, 2,000 hides and 25,000 tons of hay, the hay being shipped on sailing vessels. Arthur Cornwall, for many years a steamboat man, said as a rule that all the freight came up and none went down except passengers and gold dust. The gold was in the care of the Adams Express Company.

The Mule of Commerce

        One of the most useful of animals, especially to the teamster of early days, was the solemn-faced long-eared mule. Stubborn and ofttimes devilish, especially when abused, he was sure-footed along dangerous mountains and he possessed that stubborn perseverance which was of great value to the teamster, pulling with might and main as long as he could move over the ground or through the mud. A horse in pulling a load through the mud will sometimes get discouraged and balk. Another peculiarity was that when used as pack animals, if the Mexican loaded the mule too heavily, he would lie down and the muleteer would be compelled to take off the load. Sometimes they made excellent saddle animals. In price mules averaged about the same as horses. When first brought into the county in 1849, they sold at $100 each, but as soon as teaming became a paying business the price went up. The city of Stockton found that the price was high. In 1857, as one of the teams of D. J. Oullahan was being driven along Main Street, a mule pushed the wooden cover off the fire cistern, fell in and was drowned in eight feet of water. It cost the city $300, the value of the mule. Sometime after that Henry Huffman paid Oullahan $1,300 for a choice pair of mules, weighing together 2,800 pounds; they were said to be the two largest mules in the state.

A Pack Mule Train

        About the first mules brought into the county were driven here in 1849 by Samuel Catts, a former member of the famous Stevenson's regiment. Shortly after Catts' arrival, Capt. Patrick E. Conner came in with a band of mules from Texas. They were then used as pack mules and for a few months Mexicans carried on the principal transportation business. The pack mules, however, were in evidence for several years as there were places in the mountains, inaccessible to wagons or teams. One of these places was the famous Yosemite Valley. As late as 1877 the writer with a party of seven visited the Valley. We were compelled to leave our wagon at the foot of the hill, and travel twenty miles on horse­back. On the backs of these mules, fastened with ropes to pack saddles, were all kinds of goods, from barrels of flour to baby buggies and furniture. All kinds of ammunition, even gunpowder was carried in this manner. One day a mule loaded with gunpowder was traveling along the mountain trail. He stumbled and fell to the bottom of the ravine. They found one hoof. The best description I have ever read of a pack train was in the newspaper of February, 1861, it said, "A mule train was packed yesterday from the store of Hestres & Magendie for a point high up in the mountains some forty miles above Hornitas. There were forty mules in the train and they were loaded according to their strength from 200 to 300 pounds. Among the goods packed were casks of liquor, boxes of tea, bags of potatoes, chests of tea, and bales of dry goods. It looked like old times." The trains usually comprised from forty to fifty mules. They were in charge of Mexicans mounted on saddle horses. The mules followed what was known as the bell-mule, a trained animal driven ahead of the train with a bell around his neck. The mules were driven across the plains, for there were but few fences, and halted at night near a stream of water. The load was taken from the pack saddles, and the mules, with hobbles around their front feet, were turned loose to browse on the luxuriant growth of grass until the morn. One Mexican stood guard each night to protect the mules from prowling wild animals and see that they did not go astray. The following morning at daylight the packs were reloaded and the train started for its destination.

        The pack-mule trains were soon superseded by ox-teams; the drivers were immigrants, who crossing the plains with oxen began the freighting business, but it was not a very profitable occupation, although for some length of time oxen were used, and in order not to wear out their feet they were shod with iron plates. The shoeing of an ox was interesting; he was led into a strong frame made for the purpose and lifted bodily from the ground by a strong leather harness. There were several blacksmiths who made a specialty of ox-shoeing; one I remember was Rudolph Gnekow, who had a blacksmith shop at Main and Stanislaus streets. The ox teams were slow and the amount of freight they could haul was limited and therefore much time lost in making a trip to the mines. Then followed the four-horse and mule teams and the business became well established. As a means of finding out those persons who had freight for shipment to the mines, and for the benefit of the teamsters themselves, the "Miner's Exchange," a saloon, opened a "Teamster's Register" and advertised that, "In addition to the Miner's Register the subscriber has opened a register for freight. All persons having freight for the mines, will please enter the quantity, and which mines they are bound for." These teamsters were for a year or two the spotlight men of the town, and the merchants gave them the glad hand. Why? Taking a load of goods to the mining camps for other parties, or perhaps on speculation the merchants would give him an order to purchase goods for them. Then the teamster, returning to Stockton with his pockets filled with orders, would patronize his friends or the retailer that gave him the best terms. There was big money in it and this manner of business continued until the stage lines were well established, the telegraph located throughout the "camps" and the commission business was inaugurated.

        We have been hearing the cry of late years, especially from the farmer, the fruit and vegetable grower, "Cut out the middlemen." This may be possible in the course of time, but in the time of which we are now writing, the middle or commission-man was just as necessary in the transaction of business between mountain and valley as the buyer or seller. The mountain merchant could not leave his business three or four times a year to purchase goods either in Stockton or San Francisco, for several reasons. First the cost of travel, the loss of time, and perhaps lack of capital. And, as the reader remembers in certain months of the year traveling was well-nigh impossible. The San Francisco merchant could not ship goods to the mines, as a rule, because of steamer and unreliable land transportation. Hence a place was created for the commission merchant, who for a certain commission received the freight of the mountain dealer and shipped it to its proper destination. He was in one sense like the town postmaster who receives the letters and packages and through a third party sends them to the proper address. Freight would come to Stockton by steamer addressed to the Sierra merchant in care of the commission merchant; each commissioner employed certain draymen who would take the goods to his warehouse. The middleman would then send on the goods by his regular teamster as soon as possible. Sometimes a merchant would have his own teams, but in general the merchandise was given to reliable teamsters for transportation. Frequently it would happen in the winter months that goods could not be quickly shipped out, and the steamers would overload the middle man. To store such goods as arrived the commissioner, or better still, the teamster, would erect a small brick storage house. Henry Huffman had a storage house where now stands the Clark Hotel; Andrew Blossom had such a storage place on California Street, now used as an ice cream factory; and a large two-story brick building on the Levee was used for that purpose. Before the erection of brick buildings there were many storage ships in the harbor.

China John

        There were a few foreigners engaged in the commission business, but the majority were Americans, except China John, a fat, sleek-appearing Chinaman, could speak good English, something very unusual in that day, sported a gold watch and a heavy gold chain, was well dressed in American clothing, and was an inveterate gambler. He became wealthy acting as a middleman between the Chinese merchants in San Francisco and the Chinese miners in the mountain camps. He carried on an immense business, for the Chinese dealt as far as possible with their own people, rather than with the white man. Frequently China John would receive a consignment of Chinamen for the mines from some Chinese company in the Bay City. Chartering a mule team, he would fill the wagon-bed with their boxes of rice and tea, rice bowls and chop sticks, then their blankets and bags of clothing, and the Chinamen on top. Time and again have I seen from twenty to thirty Chinamen, wearing their wide bamboo hats, perched high on a wagon and chattering like monkeys, bound for the Chinese mining camps.

Prairie Schooners

        The quickest and most profitable way of transporting freight was in a large wagon holding from five to eight tons of freight, with two trailers. In that way, using sixteen mules, a teamster could haul from twelve to sixteen tons of freight. These wagons were so large that they could carry as much as a small water craft, hence they were usually known as "prairie schooners." The largest wagon ever manufactured in California was made by Wm. F. Miller of Stockton at a cost of $1,000. It was exhibited that year, 1857, at the Stockton fair. Named the Stocktonian, the bed of this wagon was twenty-five feet in length, five feet in width and eight feet in height, and the rear wheels were seven feet in diameter. The wagon alone weighed 5,000 pounds and it would carry ten tons. It was practically of no value as it was too large for mountain roads and required twenty mules to haul it; sixteen mules were about all one man could conveniently handle, besides driving throughout the day was no easy job in the hot sun, and an awful task through the mud; each man was obliged to water, feed, harness and unharness the animals twice a day.

        It was remarkable the amount of freight a mule could haul. It was found that a mule in team work pulling together could pull twice his weight. Team work was necessary, especially when traveling over heavy winter roads. This team work was accomplished by the driver with a six-foot flexible whip called a "black snake." He would touch up the laziest mules with the whip, and giving it a crack that resounded like the report of a pistol, every mule would commence pulling. It was by this means such remarkable loads were daily transported from Stockton to the mines. In the climbing of the mountains it was necessary to give the animals frequent resting spells, and large wooden blocks were dragged behind each hind wheel to block the wagon when it ceased moving. Of the thousands of large loads carried we will note two or three. James Fillmore, in 1853, with a team of six mules hauled 9,000 pounds from Stockton to Agua Fria; Kelty & Reynolds, with eight mules delivered 16,000 pounds of freight to the Sonora merchant ; John Schricke, "Dutch John" they called him, the same year landed 18,000 pounds of freight in Sonora from his ten-mule team. Here's another one giving both time and weight. On August 14, 1855. "Sullivan & Company of Mariposa received on August 8 the largest load of goods ever taken to that town. It was hauled by a twelve-mule team owned by J. C. Warren, who left Stockton July 30 with 22,500 pounds of freight and arrived at the store August 8 at 8:30 P.M. Beat this who can." Michael Caracoff, later a very successful Sonora Road farmer, on one occasion with fourteen mules, hauled in three wagons 31,000 pounds of wheat to the Stanislaus flour mills at Knights Ferry. And in August, 1856, "The largest load ever drawn by eight mules in a wagon was brought from the ranch of Reynolds & Kelly, about seven miles from Stockton into town. The load consisted of 280 sacks of barley, 80 pounds to the sack, amounting to 22,400 pounds.       

        As the mule team is almost a thing of the past and thousands of citizens have never seen one it may be well to describe the handling of such a team. No matter whether the number of animals were four or more they were all guided by a single line or rein called a jerk-line. The line fastened to the bit of the leading mule ran back to the saddle or right-wheel mule which the driver rode, and he could guide the team by the line or stop it by the strong heavy brake the rope from which was fastened to the saddle. If the driver wished to turn to the right he would yell "gee gee," and pull the line; all the team understood that word, if going to the left he would yell "haw haw," and jerk the line three or four times. The four most valuable mules in the team were the leaders, because of their intelligence, and quickness to obey the driver, and "the wheelers," so called because nearest to the wheels. They were the largest and strongest mules in the team, as it was their work to steady the tongue of the wagon, and sometimes assist in stopping the wagon down grade. An outfit of sixteen mules and a wagon would extend at least 175 feet and to see a teamster turn a corner of a sixty-foot street and the wheels not touch the corner of either street was a marvel of expert driving. Handling an automobile is no comparison.

The Bell Mule Team

        In October, 1853, the newspaper stated that the "teamsters and teams of Stockton are the subject of general remark by all those who visit the city. The teamsters are industrious and take great pride in hauling big loads and embellishing their harness and wagons in fine style." Many of the teamsters would have sets of small bells which they riveted to an iron band in the form of an arch and fastened on either side of the hames, which were buckled around the collar. They were known as bell teams. The principal use of the bells was to warn persons or teams about to start down hill in the mountains that a heavily loaded team was moving up the grade. It was said that the mules traveled steadier and more spirited to the jingle of the bells. To see one of these teams of big evenly-matched mules with their clean, polished harness, bells jingling and glistening in the sunlight on a Fourth of July parade, with little flags in the bridle of each mule, was a beautiful sight.

        The busiest season of the teamsters was in the fall of the year, for at that time the mountain merchants were compelled to get in their winter supply of goods. Then the steamers would arrive daily loaded to capacity with freight and the draymen would be busy throughout the day checking up freight and hauling it to the commission houses. The teamsters were very busy, so much so, I have known of blacksmiths working late at night shoeing mules and mending wagons so that the teamsters could start the following morning with a load of freight for the camps. At this time the principal roads leading to the mines were crowded with teams and on one occasion seventy teams, each team hauling from five to eight tons, were counted upon the Sonora road within a distance of fifteen miles.

Miners Short of Food

        Although the mountain merchants would guard, as much as possible, against any chance of a shortage of goods in his store, especially if he was a dealer in foodstuffs, a famine sometimes took place. The winter of 1853 was particularly severe on the mountain camps, as it was very wet and almost impossible to reach the mines. The consequence was several towns ran out of food. In January fifty Chileans left the camp on foot and coming to Stockton through a sea of mud, each man took back to Mokelumne Hill 100 pounds of food packed on his back. An American who came into town from the "hill" said food was so scarce that he was compelled to give $1.50 for a plate of beans. At Murphy's camp the food conditions were as bad or even worse than that of Mokelumne Hill. Two men reaching Stockton in a light boat made of a wagon bed stated that flour was worth $1.50 a pound at Murphy's and the miners were grinding acorns and barley, Indian fashion, for food.

The Road Stations

        When the freighting business was first established the teamsters "cut across lots" and camped wherever night found them or at some ferry. When the farmers began purchasing land and enclosing it with a brushwood or cordwood fence, the teamsters were compelled to follow along the road. Then public houses and stopping places were established and they were so numerous that they averaged not over three miles apart. On the Linden Road, at one time, there were over seventeen public houses within a distance of twenty miles. On the Sonora Road there were nineteen stopping places; and on the Knights Ferry Road thirteen houses. These men naturally had their favorite stopping places, which in summer time they could easily reach during the afternoon, and there at times, from ten to fifteen teamsters would assemble at night around the fireplace and tell their jokes or stories and give the latest news. Here was planned the joke which won a wife for Joseph D. Peters, one of their number.

        The teamsters returning to Stockton would stop at some convenient spot on the street and unharnessing their mules, would tie them on each side of the wagon and feed them. A favorite camping place, said G. C. Claiborne, was the Court House Square, the teamsters and muleteers made it a common place to camp. When the authorities would no longer permit them to camp on the square or streets then the stablemen came in and gave them free use of their big stable yards, provided they purchased of them their hay and barley. The feeding of barley to the mules meant a feast to the hundreds of blackbirds in the treetops. The mules would waste considerable barley and the following day the birds would alight in swarms and feed on the waste. The birds made a good pot pie, and the Republican referring to them in 1856 said, "Blackbirds are thick in the suburbs (now the corner Sutter and Main) and almost as gentle as barn fowl, but they are fast being reduced as the Kanakas (Sandwich Islanders) and French­men are shooting them for food." After the passage of the firearms ordinance they no longer feared the sportsmen within the city limits.

Highwaymen Hold Up Stages

        There were others upon the road as well as the teamsters and they were the highwaymen, who not only held up the stages, but the teamsters as well, robbing them sometimes of several hundred dollars. That these drivers were no cowards was evident from the bravery of George Eberhardt and Ira Ladd. Eberhardt, in 1859, was driving one of the teams of Fred Yost. While on his way to Mokelumne Hill a footman stepped from behind a rock with revolver leveled and ordered the driver to dismount from his mule and hand over his cash. Eberhardt did as directed, cautioning the robber to handle the pistol more carefully or it might go off. The knight of the road then mounted his horse, tied near by, and headed towards the Tuolumne River. Eberhardt was unarmed, but quickly unhitching his mule he hastily rode to the wagon of a teamster some four hundred yards up the road, borrowed a shotgun and the two men started in pursuit of the bandit. The fellow seeing them, plunged into the river, expecting to swim his horse to the other side. The current was too strong and being obliged to return he was made a prisoner, taken to French Bar and placed in jail.

        The three Ladd brothers, George, John and Ira were in the commission and freighting business, George conducting the store, and the two last-named driving teams on the road. In September, 1864, while Ira and an employee, each man driving a team, were approaching Knights Ferry about sundown, two Mexican horsemen came out of the bushes and approaching the drivers told them to dismount and hand over their money. The teamsters were armed but helpless and made no resistance. The Mexicans obtained $215 from Ira Ladd and $185 from the hired man and rode away, foolishly forgetting to disarm their victims, believing that they would not pursue. Ladd and his man quickly stripped the harness from their mules and started on the trail of the Mexicans, soon overtook them and both parties began firing. The "mustangs" of the Mexicans were more speedy than the mules and they escaped. Ira Ladd was wounded in the leg by a pistol ball, and throughout his life was slightly lame.

        The decreasing population of the gold mines commencing in 1864, rapidly reduced the number of teams hauling freight to the camps. The population of Amador, Calaveras, Tuolumne and Mariposa counties in 1860 was 45,058; ten years later it was only 30,199. Mariposa in 1850, had a population of 4,379, with an increase to 6,243 in 1860. Calaveras County in 1850 had a population of 16,134, reduced to 12,546 in 1860. Tuolumne County's inhabitants was in 1850, 8,351, increased in 1860 to 16,239, decreased in 1870 to 8,150. Where did the mountain miners, their wives and children go? San Joaquin County received hundreds of them as shown by the statistics. It is true that hundreds settled in the county who came by steamer from the Eastern States, some came across the plains, but the great majority came from the mines. In 1850 the county had a population of 3,647, in 1860 9,435, and in 1870, 21,500, more than double the inhabitants of 1860.

Copper Excitement

        The decline of freighting was somewhat revived by the accidental discovery, in 1860, of copper in the foothills. Two miners prospecting for gold found strong indications of copper. In a short time a town was founded upon the spot named Copperopolis and in less than two years it had a population of 10,000 souls. Deep shafts were dug, millions of dollars expended and an abundance of pure copper ore found. It was loaded into heavy canvas sacks, 100 pounds to a sack, and by teams shipped to Stockton. Hundreds of teams were engaged in this work and at times the Levee was crowded with wagons unloading copper. So many were the wagons bringing copper into the city the steamers could not keep down the supply. And as early as 1862, 3,000 tons of copper had been shipped by steamer. The output of copper rapidly increased and in 1865, from February to September, 64,000 tons of copper ore had been landed upon the wharf by freight teams. This work gave employment to hundreds of teamsters and laborers, and thousands of dollars were expended with the Stockton merchants. Then came a slump in the price of copper. It fell so low in price that it could not be dug from the mines and shipped by team to Stockton except at a heavy loss. A railroad line to Copperopolis had been incorporated but too late to get results. Charles T. Meader, a Stockton merchant, became a millionaire dealing in copper stock, but failed on the decline of copper. The mines were shut down, teaming discontinued, the population decreased and the mines and many buildings are today rotting with age.

        In the heyday of teaming the prices for hauling freight were very high. At one time the teamsters received seventy-five cents per pound for carrying freight sixty miles to Sonora, and one dollar per pound to Mariposa, 120 miles. After a time the prices for transporting freight fluctuated, as the new corners in the business with two or more oxen or horses would carry freight at any price. This caused the teamsters, who had thousands of dollars invested in mules, wagons, harness and several other overhead expenses, to try and protect themselves by forming an association. Another expense that sometimes cut down the profits was team losses. The teamsters in traveling to the mines were obliged during the winter and spring months to cross many small creeks of running water. One of those losses the newspaper of April, 1861, records in this way, "The remainder of the splendid team of Bostwick & Wilhoit, in which eleven mules perished in Custer Creek above Sonora, recently arrived in town. It had been up with a load of goods and was returning to Stockton. The driver upon reaching the creek put a man upon the lead mule to ride him across the creek. The water was not belly deep, although there was a swift current. The man fell off and then seizing the mule by the bridle turned him downstream. He was greatly frightened and so were the mules. The leader fell and they were soon all of a tangle. The mules made no effort to save themselves but laid down in the creek and were drowned. Three of the mules only were saved and it was a heavy loss for those days, nearly $3,000."

Teamsters Association

        The press in writing of the proposed Teamsters Association said in 1854, "We speak of this class of our population with no small degree of pride. They are industrious, honest, intelligent. They are as accomplished and expert as any that ever cracked a whip or owned a bullock. But considering the dullness of the times and brisk competition they have not received much profit for their labor and for the capital invested. We are therefore glad to hear that they are trying to effect some arrangement or combination to ameliorate it." The teamsters' union was the first labor organization in San Joaquin County, the Typographical Union excepted. And their first efforts for organization were made in October, 1855, when a meeting was called in the city hall by "many teamsters," "as matters of great importance will be brought up." At that meeting, D. J. Oullahan was appointed chairman and Samuel Crosswait secretary. A committee was appointed to draft a resolution "regulating the prices of freight to the mines on a fair and reasonable basis." A week later the committee reported a schedule for over thirty mountain camps, which was adopted by the meeting. An average of their prices ran as follows: Angel's Camp, 65 miles, 2½ cts. per lb. light freight, 1 ¾ cts. heavy freight; to Mokelumne Hill, 50 miles, 2 cts. light and 1½ cts. heavy freight; to Mariposa, 120 miles, 3 cts. light and 2½ cts. heavy. Light freight was not profitable as baby buggies, sewing machines, furniture, etc., took up too much room.

        Many of the teamsters broke their agreement. The association reorganized in the spring of 1856 and they signed an agreement to forfeit $100 if any of them took freight below the schedule price. Not only that, but a committee of twenty teamsters were appointed to watch the other fellow. A few of this committee well known in later years, comprised D. J. Oullahan, Jeremiah Sarles, John D. Pierson, Frederick Yost, J. M. Schofield, Isaac S. Bostwick, Henry Huffman and O. H. Perry. The Ladd brothers would not enter the combine, George Ladd, saying later that the teamsters were doing well enough. In April, 1859, he seems to have changed his mind, for in a meeting of the teamsters for a permanent organization he was chairman of the meetings. The association as organized elected as officers: George S. Ladd, president, Dr. F. W. Todd, secretary, Roley E. Wilhoit, treasurer, and Frederick Yost, Isaac V. Leffler, Joseph M. Capurro, Andrew Snyder and Enoch Peyton. directors.

        The industry, honesty and intelligence of the teamsters as portrayed by the Republican was fully maintained in their future lives. They married, became men of families and quite prominent in civic and political life. Fred Yost built a pretty two-story brick home on California Street and his children are now honored citizens. George S. Ladd, for twenty years was city superintendent of schools. R. E. Wilhoit was county treasurer, councilman, school trustee and bank director and lived to reach ninety-one years of age, attending to his business. D. J. Oullahan was appointed state treasurer, and one of his sons was mayor of the city and is now secretary of the Chamber of Commerce. Some of these men found their wives in the mountain camps. Smith Whiting, a teamster and later a dray-man found his wife at Mokelumne Hill; he was married December 1, 1859, to Miss Jeannette Morrison. His daughter is now a public school teacher. At the Spring Garden ranch, Calaveras County, February 8, 1863, Andrew Blossom was married to Miss Laura H. Saunders. Mr. Blossom built a handsome residence on California years later and engaged in farming. The oldest son now carries on the business, and the second son is a musician of note. The most notable of all of these marriages was that of Joseph D. Peters, a young, energetic Italian who came to Stockton in 1849 and engaged in teaming. We will let Ernest J. Hopkins of San Francisco tell the story, as his imagination is more of the romantic order than mine and in the Romance of San Joaquin he wrote the following story: "First of the teamsters' tales is the story of how J. D. Peters won his bride. Be it remembered that the problem of getting a wife in those days was a costly one. It costs $2,000 for a man to leave his business, go east and return with the lady of his heart. One of the hotels in Columbia, a favorite hotel of the teamsters was kept by a Mrs. Taylor, a refined and charming woman, who had two pretty daughters, Emmaline and Zuba Taylor. One day in the '50s a new team drew up at the watering trough, and the young man who swung the blacksnake was merry and likeable. He had left his native Genoa and landed in America under a vow that he would never work for any man. He had struck a little gold and this team was his first step towards fortune. This young man, J. D. Peters, tied up and went inside for his meal. He was served by the charming Emmaline herself. Peters' fate was sealed. But soon his eyes took on a weary look. He was a poor man and this young lady had said, 'I'll never be a poor man's bride.'

        "Now the teamsters were a jolly lot, with more than usual brotherhood. They sized up the situation and laid their plans to help. Two fancy teams with bright steel trappings and gaudily painted wagons met one noon at the eating house, the drivers entered together to be greeted by Miss Emmaline. And one driver said to the other, 'Who are you driving for now, Bill?' 'Oh, I'm driving for Peters.' 'Why, I'm driving for Peters, too,' replied the other. 'He's a fine fellow to work for.' Emmaline listened with interest. Every day after that new names were added to the army of men who were working for Peters. Then signs began to appear hung on the sides of the wagons where all might read, J. D. P., J. D. Peters, J. D. Peters & Co. The legend grew and grew—a colossal joke spreading over the whole Stockton-Sonora district. Wherever the young lady walked or rode on horseback she would come across that sign J. D. Peters, or be greeted by pleasant-faced fellows who straightway praised their boss. 'When I came to America, I swore I would never work for another man,' he told her at evening as they sat on the porch of the hostelry, 'And I'm keeping my promise.' What girl could resist?" History proves that Emmaline could not for she and J. D. Peters were married at Columbia in 1858, and a jovial crowd of teamsters attended the wedding and made Rome howl far into the night. Later she learned the joke, but Peters was then making big money and she had no cause for complaint." Mrs. Peters died in April, 1874, and to her memory her husband erected an ornamental marble block, surmounted by a life-sized figure, the features resembling the deceased. Imported from Italy it was of pure marble, personifying Hope, a work of art costing one thousand dollars.

Staging to the Mines

        Teaming was but one phase of the transportation business; another phase of equal importance was the passenger and mail service. In 1830 a Mr. Holden, while freighting to Sonora with a small team noticed many travelers walking to and from the mines, and he concluded to carry light freight and passengers. By so doing making quicker trips he could make more money. The following year he sold out his pioneer line to Kelley, Reynolds & Company. In the same year "the traveling public were glad to learn that Todd & Company have also established stages to Sonora and other points. We have never seen a handsomer turnout or a more useful team of mules." These two firms primarily were in the express business and they began carrying gold dust, letters, and passengers. The fast time made by these two companies "was astonishing. They left Sonora, seventy-five miles distant, at seven o'clock in the morning and arrived at Stockton at two P.M. Thirty miles of the road was of the roughest description, along hillsides, over channels formed by the winter rains, and up steep elevations that would demoralize the city driver."

        In February of 1851 two Frenchmen, Guibal & Dhorboure, established a tri-weekly stage line to run between Stockton and Mokelumne Hill. The express was of great advantage to all of the mercantile men who have long felt the want of such a communication. "The animals," said the writer, "are not excelled by any in the county and the cars are new and well adapted for such a purpose." Before the firm had been a month in the staging business they were compelled to meet with competition, for two other Frenchmen, Provinde & Paxon, established a line to Mokelumne Hill and Double Springs. They left Stockton on Tuesday and Thursday at 7:30 A. M. and left the "Hill" on Wednesday and Sunday at 3 o'clock P. M. The fare clear through was twelve dollars.

Fisher Brothers' Stage Line

        In 1854 two solid and reliable business men, Alvin N. and Samuel Fisher, purchased the opposition line of Alonzo McCloud at a cost of $10,000. They put on a daily line of stages, carried the United States mail to all the mountain camps and equipped their lines with fine horses and coaches. They occupied as their stage office, the old El Dorado gambling house, a famous resort on the northwest corner of Levee and Center streets, now the Grand Hotel. On New Year's Day, as was the usual custom with the hustling business men, they gave a housewarming. And we are told that "The baskets of champagne opened on the occasion were fully appreciated by the friends of the enterprising firm. Fisher says he is ready for the race," meaning that he was ready to battle with all competitors, which at that time was the California Stage Co. They were carrying passengers to Mokelumne Hill or Campo Seco for one dollar or to Sonora or Columbia, two dollars, Murphy's Camp, seven dollars. Alvin Fisher died in 1863, and a third brother, Zenus Fisher, purchased the business. He died in May, 1872, and soon afterward Samuel Fisher sold out the staging business to his competitor, Maurice Dooley, who had for several years been running an opposition line with an office in the brick building at the northeast corner of Levee and Center streets. It is now a grain office. The stage business at the time was declining because of the advent of the Central Pacific Railroad. When Dooley died the business was taken over by Charles Sissions, who had formerly been one of Dooley's drivers.

        Alonzo McCloud, a tall, enterprising Yankee, in 1852 started an opposition line to Sonora with fare at sixteen dollars one way. It was his line that made the record time from Sonora, August 18, 1853, at the time of the destruction of town by fire. The stage came "bounding into town at 8 o'clock A. M.," much to the surprise of the citizens. It left Sonora about 2 o'clock that morning, coming through in six hours. A few minutes later the regular stage arrived. In July, 1854, McCloud endeavored to establish a daily line of stages between Stockton and Oakland in opposition to the steamers. There was much complaint about the high prices on the steamers and McCloud believed the travelers would patronize his line, especially as it was a saving of time and a daylight trip. The line left the Weber House at 1 o'clock and running by the way of French Camp, Banta's, Livermore rancho, San Antonio and Clinton the passengers took the ferry for San Francisco, arriving at 4 o'clock. The steamers reduced their fare to a point below the stage line, and in a few months it was discontinued.

        In August, 1839, another attempt was made to establish a line of stages between Oakland and Stockton. They left Fisher's stage office at 6 o'clock and their passengers landed in San Francisco between 4 and 5 o'clock. It was another contest with the California Navigation Company and said the editor, "We congratulate the citizens of Stockton upon the consummation of this long deferred project. It will be a heavy blow against our ancient foe, the California Navigation Company, as it will deplete the coffers of that monster monopoly at least $75,000 a year if the stages are well patronized. Since the spring of 1854 the public of Stockton and the surrounding country have been bled by this soulless corporation." Fares again went down on the steamers, good­bye stage line: Today automobiles are making several trips a day and there is business for all, the companies, stages, steamers and railroads.

        The fun and the opposition of stages was not alone confined to the Oakland and the Sonora routes, but there was the Sacramento route, Sacramento since 1858 having been the State Capital. There were two routes to the Capital, one known as the Upper Sacramento Road, running about half way between the Cherokee Lane and Waterloo Road and the Lower Sacramento Road, skirting the tule lands passed Woodbridge. The upper road, crossing at Staples Ferry, the lower road then took all the travel. It was a horrible winter road, especially the first ten miles out of Stockton, and not until 1863 was any part of the road improved. Along the lowlands of the Mokelumne River there were miles of swamps and none but an expert driver could travel the road during the winter months. Said a writer in March, 1861, "It is perfectly wonderful how the stage drivers continue to pilot their vehicles through the immense lake without a mishap, while the slightest deviation from the road, which is invisible, would in many places overturn them in from eight to ten feet of water." The leading driver and stage proprietor on this line was "Peg-leg" Johnny Smith, so called because of a wooden right leg from the knee down. He was a very expert four-horse driver and, strange to say, could handle the lines drunk or sober. If too drunk, then his friends would prevent his getting on the coach, but there was a tussle, for he would fight like a wildcat and insist on making his regular trip. "Johnny" also had opposition and on one occasion he advertised, "fare reduced and speed increased on John Smith's line of stages from Stockton to Sacramento; the fare will be reduced to five dollars or as low as the lowest."

The Coaches and Routes

        The coaches in use by the two larger companies were all first class and built in Concord, N. H., costing from $1,200 to $1,500 each. The bottom of the coach was built rounding like a bowl, so that it had a rocking movement like a chair when fastened to the thick leather spring on each side of the running gear. On the rear of the coach was a large leather boot, covered with a leather curtain. It held the baggage and trunks of the passengers. In front, beneath the driver's seat, was a smaller boot, which held the United States mail and Wells Fargo express box, ofttimes containing from $5,000 to $20,000 in gold dust. The highwaymen, hundreds of times, held up the drivers with a shot­gun, and demanded, "Throw out that box." "Now drive on." After a time the thing got monotonous and the express company had the boxes fastened to the stage with strong iron bands. Then the knights of the road began holding up the passengers. All of the coaches were handsomely painted with fine landscape scenes on the outside of each door. Dennis & Tinkham, with their shop on Channel Street, now the location of the Simons building, did all the painting for the Fisher brothers, with their large stable on the opposite side of the street. These stages would seat nine inside the coach and from ten to fifteen on top, their legs dangling over the side. In the hot summer sun it was a very disagreeable, painful ride, but, there was no other choice. In the winter months travel was very light and the company ran what was dubbed as "mud" wagons, with passenger service only in the body of the wagon. Sometimes these wagons would stall in the mud and the passengers were compelled to alight and walk or wade to higher ground.

        The stages left the office promptly at six o'clock, the steamer with its passengers arriving before that hour. If the steamer was delayed by heavy fogs or mud bars, the stages moved on time unless there happened to be a special group of steamer passengers. Each stage line engaged a runner at $100 per month who called out in stentorian tones the names of the various mountain camps, some thirty in number, through which the stages passed. They were all one day journeys except to Mariposa; that was a two days trip, 120 miles, fare $20.00. There was at one time nine coaches leaving the stage office every morning except Sunday for various points in the mines and the coast. They left for Sacramento by the way of Woodbridge and Elk Grove for Sutter Creek through Lockeford and Jackson; for Mokelumne Hill through Linden, Bellota and Angel's Camp; during the summer a stage for Angel's Camp, Murphy's Camp and the Big Trees; along the present Sonora road for Knights Ferry, Chinese Camp, Big Oak Flat, Jamestown, Sonora and Columbia; over the Mariposa road for Mariposa, stopping the first night at Snelling, and last to Oakland.

Overland Mail Line

        The pony express and the Overland stage line preceded the coming of the Central Pacific Railroad only a few years. Stockton saw nothing of the pony express for its terminus was Sacramento, but they caught a glimpse of the Overland stage line as it started from or passed through Stockton. It was announced October 31, 1858, that the first mail stage from Stockton to Missouri, over the Central Overland route would start the following morning from the Weber House, and the stage would go by the way of Independence. Kansas City, Santa Fe and Albuquerque. The announcement was made by the postmaster, Wm. Lanius, so that all citizens who desired could send their eastern letters by that route. Letters before this time had been going by steamer twice a month, it taking the steamer twenty days or more to make the trip from San Francisco to New York. There was a large crowd present to witness the starting of the first mail line. No attempt was made to take any passengers and the stage was loaded with blankets, provisions and the United States mail. Four employees of the company boarded the stage and a mounted guard rode on either side. At precisely ten o'clock the horn was blown, the mail was put on hoard, the crowd hurrahed and the stage was on its way. It was this line over which Horace Greeley came to California in 1858. It was sanctioned by Congress which appropriated a large sum of money, but the expense was so heavy and the results so small the line was discontinued in 1859.

Transcribed by Kathy Sedler