Sierra County History
Illustrated History of PLUMAS, LASSEN & SIERRA Counties
with CALIFORNIA from 1513 to 1850, Farriss & Smith, 1882, San Francisco

Transcribed by Peggy Hooper, Oct 2009

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HISTORICAL REMINISCENCES. 

A period corresponding in length of time to the average of human existence has 
elapsed since Sierra county became peopled with the Caucasian race. During that 
time much has occurred worthy of a place in the written chronicles of the past, 
and much that were best forgotten. Of the former, "the pruning-knife of time" 
has trimmed and lopped off the branches of vivid recollection, leaving only the 
roots or trunk the bare foundation of many a pleasing and instructive tale. 
Dozens of excellent stories are entirely lost through dumb forgetfulness, or 
through the death or removal of those who could tell them best; and the eager 
chronicler feels, as he scans his meager pages, that perhaps he has unwittingly 
at times passed by the richest lead to delve in barren, unproductive ground. 

The early courts of Sierra county have furnished a few amusing circumstances not 

yet swallowed up in the lethean floods. In the fall of 1850, when Richard 
Galloway was alcalde of Downieville, a suit was brought before his court for 
adjustment. The parties to the suit were a couple of darkies on the one side and 

several white men on the other. The negroes had located a claim a mile above 
town on the south fork, and being industrious, were soon amassing considerable 
of this world's goods. Their good fortune excited the cupidity of some men, who 
failed to perceive that a negro had any rights which a white man was bound to 
respect. So they claimed to have made a prior location of the mining ground, and 

endeavored to oust the sable miners from their position. Through the spirit and 
determination of the darkies they failed in their designs, and finally, as a 
last resort, the matter was brought into court for adjudication. The court-room 
was the space included by a spacious canvas tent. Judge Rowe, for a liberal 
yellow fee, undertook the cause of the oppressed black men. A jury was called, 
and the trial began. The evidence adduced was rather damaging to the cause of 
the white plaintiffs, who, having been obliged to furnish substantial sacks of 
dust as security for costs, began to perceive that unless something were done to 

turn the tide of affairs their wealth would soon swell the plethoric purses of 
the alcalde and jury. Kind fortune gave them an opportunity, ere all was lost, 
to retrieve themselves. A full hour had passed since the learned judge had 
partaken of alcoholic stimulants, and believing that the cause of justice would 
be furthered by a brief recess, he adjourned the court for a drink a proceeding 
not uncommon in those days. So judge, jury, and audience rushed out at the 
welcome sound, leaving the negroes alone. After reassembling, the plaintiffs 
brought in a sack of flour, which they proceeded to empty over the heads of 
their black opponents, who were sweating in anxious expectancy for the result of 

the trial, filling their eyes, nostrils, and wool, and changing the color given 
them by nature to a paleness never attained by darky before. Amidst shouts of 
laughter they left the court-room, and could not be induced to return; in 
consequence of which, the case was decided against them. 


EXTENT OF A MINING CLAIM. 

The following peculiar court opinion is ascribed to a Downieville justice, 
though to whom the credit belongs of the brilliant decision no one is able to 
decide. When the county seat had reached its zenith of prosperity, a man began 
building a house on Jersey flat. Before the work had progressed very far, he was 

notified by another party not to build, as the ground was his mining claim, and 
he intended to work it before long. No attention was paid to his warning, and 
the building was completed. Mining was soon begun near the structure, and day by 

day the earth was torn away and washed for the precious metal. Steadily the 
foundations of the house were undermined, until it scarcely could preserve its 
equilibrium, and the owner ran considerable risk every time he entered it. 
Matters were now in a suitable shape for a lawsuit; attorneys looking for a job 
easily induced the house owner to rush into court, and W. S. Spear was retained 
by the plaintiff. During his argument before the court, he was asked by the 
judge if he admitted that his client had been notified not to build his house 
there. "Yes sir," he replied, but unabashed, continued to argue his case. Again 
the judge interrupted him with, "Mr. Spear, what is the use of all this talk? 
You have admitted that your client has no redress in law." Still the persistent 
attorney kept on, and would not be silenced. At last the judge jumped up and 
blurted out: 

"It is the opinion of this court that a mining claim reaches up to heaven and 
down to hell. 
Now, Mr. Spear, if you can't get above or below that, please sit down." 


UNAPPRECIATED ELOQUENCE. 

A rough bully named Driscoll had a dispute, in 1851, with another man about a 
mining claim on Jersey flat, in Downieville. Both rushed into Justice Galloway's 

court with their grievances, which at that time convened in Jack Stratton's 
tent: being an exceedingly desirable place for veiled justice to frequent, as 
abundance of the liquor known as "sheep-herders' delight" was conveniently at 
hand. Hogue, the learned butcher, plead in the case against Driscoll. Hogue was 
a professional Fourth-of-July "sky-scraper," and when the occasion demanded, 
could work up a pretty strong decoction of allegory, metaphor, and floridity, 
with a slight tinge of withering sarcasm. As he got warmed up to his theme, and 
the canvas roof swelled with the power of his oratory, visions of his stock in 
trade floated across his mind, and he gave vent to many fine remarks about the " 

cattle on a thousand hills." Driscoll chafed before the thrilling bursts of 
eloquence. When the peregrinating cattle had been hurled at him for the third or 

fourth time, he could stand it no longer, but pulling his pistol, shouted, 
"D___n your old cattle!" at the same time swinging the weapon around in an 
uncomfortably familiar style, that precipitated a furious adjournment of Justice 

Galloway's court. All left but one juryman and Hogue, the latter having soared 
so high as to be unable to appreciate the situation all at once. Two sailors 
crawled under the tent, floored Driscoll from behind, and the result of that 
gentleman's escapade was a short term in the state penitentiary. 


"PAP" HARRIS' SALE. 

Back against the side hill on Durgan flat, in Downieville, were a large number 
of Missourians engaged in sinking shafts; hence the locality came to be known as 

Missouritown. The inhabitants were not generally overfond of hard work, and 
quarrels frequently occurred with members of companies who wished to shirk their 

duties on somebody else. Three of these parties had a claim there in 
partnership, two of whom were hard-working, industrious men, but the third was 
afflicted with the epidemic that sometimes prevails, called laziness. He spent 
his time over town gambling and drinking, squandering what was wrested from the 
earth by his companions. One day they told him to go to work or to make himself 
scarce in those diggings. He took the latter course, while the others took 
another partner and continued at work. Being induced by the lawyers to resort to 

the law, the expelled partner entered a suit to recover the claim, in Tom 
Graham's court. That functionary issued a summons on the others, which was 
served by Garland Harris, afterwards county judge. Pap Harris, as he was called, 

performed his duty as constable, at which the miners were alarmed, and a meeting 

was held to decide what was to be done. It was argued that if this indignity was 

submitted to, none of them would be safe hereafter from the lawyers and 
justices. So the owners of the claim were instructed to pay no attention to the 
summons, but to keep at work. This advice was followed, and when the case came 
up in court the defendants failed to appear; consequently judgment was entered 
against them for costs and the claim, an execution sale was ordered, and Pap 
Harris posted the notice on the windlass at the mine. A conclave of miners was 
again held, and informal resolutions adopted that threatened a broken head and 
other dire 
calamities to the man who should dare to make a bid on the property. At the 
appointed time the high constable of Downieville appeared, invested with full 
legal authority to sell the mining claim. After reading the whys and wherefores, 

he said, "And now, gentlemen, what am I offered for this “ere claim?" 

The crowd was numerous, but did not seem to be in a buying mood. 

"Gentlemen, I am prepared to sell this claim if it brings nothing more than the 
court costs and 
my fees. Make me an offer." 

Not a bid was made; even the lazy partner kept a discreet silence. Again and 
again Harris pleaded for bids. Knowing that his fees were jeopardized, he was 
willing to take anything for the claim, however small. But not even the 
customary bid of "two bits" was offered; and finally he gave up in despair, and 
left the flat. The miners resumed their work, the lazy partner slunk back to his 

customary haunts, and the two whom it was impossible to sell out again delved 
with renewed spirit on their claim. The shaft soon paid large returns, and 
having made their pile, the defendants in the above suit were in the course of 
time lost sight of. 


ASIATIC ANTICS. 

In 1858 a Chinaman was kicked by a mule at Goodyear's bar, in consequence of 
which injury he dissolved partnership with earth, and was gathered to his 
antipodal fathers. The great san hedrim of celestials was immediately convened, 
and the Chinaman to whom the guilty mule belonged was summoned to appear before 
that tribunal with his vicious property. The animal was trotted up without 
saddle or bridle, and after a protracted "ching-chung-how-ee-lum," the jury of 
seventeen Chinamen proceeded to ballot on the question of shooting the 
long-eared prisoner at the bar, without giving him a chance of speaking in his 
own defense. Sanguinary counsels prevailed, and six pistol balls entered the 
mule's hide ; after which his brains were clubbed out. Then it was resolved that 

the offending member must be cut off; but as mules kick promiscuously with both 
hind legs, it became a difficult problem as to which hoof should be lopped off. 
Numerous citations were made from Confucius and other Mongolian authorities, 
when it was decided that both legs should be amputated, and thereby get a dead 
sure thing on the mule; which order of the court was faithfully carried out. 


A DURGAN-FLAT INCIDENT. 

In the early part of December, 1861, Downieville was visited by a disastrous 
flood, the turbid waters of both forks having received vast reinforcements from 
the melted snows of the mountains. On the seventh, houses, flumes, fences, and 
"Jim Dixon's opera-glasses," floated down between the well-filled banks of the 
streams. On the eighth, the Jersey bridge swung around endways with the current, 

being held by cables from floating down. In the evening of that day the Durgan 
bridge went down with a great crash. The damage along the river was 
considerable. The people on Durgan flat were entirely shut off from their 
neighbors by the flood. There was but one place where liquor could be had, and 
fears were entertained on the other side that before night on the ninth there 
might be suffering among the Durganites. The Democrat of the week after 
contained a graphic account of the thrilling affair. We quote an extract: 

"While deliberations were progressing, but coming to no satisfaction, men 
gathered on the stormy banks of Durgan and looked longingly across. A sensation 
is observed: as if moved by one mind, a score of brothers give the signal of 
distress, and the knights of the E. C. V. respond. Now something will be done. A 

stone with a string is thrown across. A stronger string is bent on that, and a 
rope to that; and then a hawser goes over. A shout is raised, and Durgan 
brightens. A block with tackle and ropes and wheel is rigged, and a message to 
Durgan goes in these words: “What do you most desire?” The paper comes back to 
where the milkmen, and the baker-men, and the vegetable-men stand with their 
wares exposed. The message is opened; it is read feeble pencil marks in a shaky 
hand, just legible __ 'Whisky, for God's sake.' Foolish waste of time. The men 
at the ropes upbraid themselves for having asked a silly question. Three bottles 

and a demijohn go over in a trice. Durgan is revived. Then a few more demijohns, 

bottles, and some of Wackerman's compliments go over. Two score of happy men are 

on that pier making the welkin ache with excessive ringing. A message goes to 
them in pencil: “Do you want any bread?' The reply came: 'No, there's half a 
dozen loaves this side of the river now, and it would spoil if there was any 
more. No suffering among the women and children; but you might send over a 
basket or two of champagne, for fear the rope might break.' The two baskets went 

over. Durgan became saucy over its good store of the necessaries of life, and 
raised a seven-starred flag. A stove-pipe was reared on their pier and pointed 
for this side. It was diligently served and repeatedly fired, but their balls 
proved harmless. A commissioner went over in the chair with a flag of truce, and 

an understanding was brought about. It seemed that some one had thoughtlessly 
filled one of the demijohns with milk instead of brandy. The matter was 
satisfactorily settled by the retention of the commissioner as a hostage until 
brandy was furnished in place of the milk, and two extra bottles to make up the 
expenditure for powder." 


PUNISHMENT BY THE LASH. 

The infliction of stripes upon the human body as a punishment for lesser crimes 
than murder, horse-stealing, or highway robbery was early practiced in 
California. Not only were the stinging thongs wielded by the merciless mob, but 
the regularly organized courts, in accordance with law, countenanced the 
whipping of criminals in certain cases, and gave the castigation themselves, 
through their executive officials. In Sierra county cases of legal whipping are 
exceedingly rare, and but two or three occur to us as we write. The first 
instance of the whipping kind happening in Sierra county was in the year 1850, 
at Downieville. A poor, destitute man was caught in the act of stealing a small 
article from a store. He was immediately secured, and a crowd quickly gathered 
around. The first cries were to "hang him," but a suggestion from somebody that 
he be whipped averted the fatal stroke, and he was taken by his captors to a 
tree close to town, to which he was tied, with his back bared to the waist. A 
burly sailor produced an ugly-looking raw-hide, which was applied to the 
writhing flesh of the victim with an energy that the occasion hardly demanded'. 
The terrible lash rose and fell with even stroke until the regulation number of 
thirty- nine stripes had been administered, when the master of ceremonies raised 

his hand and said, 

"Enough." The ropes were untied that bound the wretched man, and he was ordered 
to put on his 
clothes. He was asked: 

"Have you any money?" 

"No” 

"Any more clothes?" 

"No." 

An ounce of gold-dust was weighed out and given to him, accompanied by the 
instruction that if he were seen in town that night at ten o'clock he would be 
hanged. Without reply the man arranged his clothes, took his ounce of gold, and 
a few minutes after disappeared over the hill. 

At the town of Eureka a similar case occurred in the latter part of June, 1852. 
Francis Boyd had been proven guilty of stealing barley from a neighbor. He was 
given a dozen lashes by the enraged citizens, and only thirty minutes to leave 
the town, which brief space of time enabled him to put a considerable distance 
between himself and his captors. Time was precious in that instance. 

Goodyear's bar was the scene of a whipping affair in 1 853, but it was done upon 

the order of the justice of the peace, Charles Stanwood. A tall, pock-marked 
Chinaman had been detected in the act of robbing the money-drawer of a 
butcher-shop of a small amount of stray silver. John D. Scellen, the constable, 
made the arrest in due form, and Justice Stanwood proceeded to try the 
case. The Chinaman was easily found guilty, and the punishment devised was 
fifteen lashes, to be laid on by the constable. This judgment was made, not so 
much for the benefit of the prisoner, as to annoy Mr. Scellen, who was a 
gentleman, and would much rather have been freed from such an unpleasant duty. 
But the order of the court was imperative, and though the tender-hearted officer 

tried to evade its performance, he was finally forced to comply. The matt was 
tied to a post in front of the St. Charles hotel, and got his whipping, but 
Scellen laid on the blows as lightly as possible, giving the Chinaman about as 
severe a lashing as the stage Uncle Tom gets from his master in the theatrical 
performance of "Uncle Tom's Cabin." 

The whipping of the innocent young man in 1854, at Downieville, for the alleged 
robbery of sluice-boxes, is related in the remarks on the hanging of Harlow. At 
Cox's bar, in 1852, a different kind of punishment was given a man for 
sluice-robbing. He was tied to a tree, with a large board hung around his neck, 
on which was traced in bold characters the word "thief." All who passed along 
the road from Downieville to Goodyear's on that day stopped to jeer at the 
unlucky sign-board. When the shades of night had fallen he was released and 
given the customary warning. 


THE KELLEY-SPEAR DUEL. 

Dueling has in all countries had more or less humor attached to it. The delicate 

sense of wounded honor unappreciated by the masses, the formal exchanging of 
civilities prior to the encounter, the backwardness of the principals and the 
forwardness of the seconds, the frantic effort to look calmly into the muzzle of 

an opponent's loaded pistol, and the invariably bad marksmanship of the majority 

who take the field, are all pregnant themes for the exercise of wit, creating 
laughter for the public from time immemorial. Not that dueling was a laughing 
matter always, but it was oftener so than otherwise. Two duels have been fought 
in Sierra county. The Kelley-Spear affair happened sometime in the early part of 

1852, and is well remembered by many of the old residents of Downieville. John 
Kelley, commonly known as “Kelley the Fiddler," earned his living by scraping a 
violin. William S. Spear was one of the first members of the Sierra county bar. 
Both were ollicking, good-hearted men, but unfortunately they became enamored of 

the same woman and to decide as to which should enjoy her exclusive favor, and 
which should furnish a job for the undertaker, a meeting was arranged for by the 

intervention of the friends of each. Joseph McKibben, afterwards member of 
congress from the third district, acted as second for Spear, but the other 
parties who officiated are unknown to the writer. The place selected for the 
bloody work was on Smith's flat, since known as Sportsman's flat, a mile above 
Downieville. The woman who was at the bottom of the trouble took a position 
across the river on the side of the hill; She wept, violently at the prospect of 

losing one or both of her lovers, and, like the biblical Rachael, "refused to be 

comforted." The matter was no secret to the public, and a large crowd assembled 
to witness the spilling of blood. At the appointed signal both fired, neither 
receiving a scratch. The conditions were that they should continue shooting 
until one was disabled or called for a cessation of hostilities. Spear 
immediately recocked his weapon, and took a deliberate aim at his adversary. But 

Kelley was in hot water; the hammer of his pistol refused to be raised, some of 
the mechanism having become disarranged, and he felt that his hour was drawing 
nigh. He tugged and pulled without success, all the time Spear getting his aim 
down to an exact certainty, and being in no hurry to shoot until he had a 
Dr.-Carver bead on his victim. The situation was critical. Kelley turned red and 

pale by turns ; then with an angry, quick movement, he threw his pistol at Spear 

with all his might. The suspense was over; the crowd breathed freer, for Spear 
had dropped his weapon and fled. The spectators started at once in pursuit, and 
caught the frightened duelist, brought him back to Kelley, and made the parties 
clasp hands across the bloodless chasm. It is said that the seconds, fearing an 
accident might occur, had prudently withdrawn the bullets before going on the 
ground, which is probably the reason that Kelley's pistol was the most dangerous 

of the two. 


THE LIPPINCOTT-TEVIS DUEL. 

The duel fought near Brandy City, in September, 1855, between Judge Lippincott 
and young Tevis, was not so bloodless an affair as the one just related. 
Lippincott was a strong democrat, and was interested to some extent in a 
temperance paper of short life at Downieville, called the Old Oaken Bucket. 
Tevis was a younger brother of Lloyd Tevis, now of San Francisco, and was highly 

thought of. He belonged to the know-nothing party, of which he was a leader, and 

was a candidate for district attorney on that ticket. Lippincott and Tevis were 
not on the best of terms; but the dispute that led directly to the meeting was 
caused by an article from the pen of Lippincott casting reflections on the 
character of a Mrs. Pellett who was lecturing in the town on temperance. Tevis 
replied in another paper with a sharp letter that greatly exasperated 
Lippincott, who tried to meet Tevis on the street, that he might give him a 
thrashing; but being unsuccessful in getting up a street fight, he sent the 
young man a challenge to fight a duel, which was promptly accepted. The place 
selected was on the county line between Yuba and Sierra counties, near to Brandy 

City. The weapons were big, double-barreled shot-guns, loaded with ball. At four 

o'clock in the morning the parties, with their friends, left Downieville for the 

scene of conflict, and arrived there at daylight. John Marshall acted as second 
for Tevis, while E. J. Smith performed the same service for Lippincott. Jerome 
B. Totten and W. S. Spear officiated to some extent; Benjamin Green loaded the 
guns, Drs. Carr and Aiken were on the ground in the capacity of surgeons; about 
twenty persons were present as spectators. As the principals took their 
positions, Lippincott's second placed his hand on his breast, to indicate where 
to fire. Benjamin Green gave the signal, and at the first fire Tevis fell to the 

ground a corpse. A piece was shot out of the shoulder of Lippincott's coat. He 
was hurried off by his friends, and no proceedings were ever entered against 
him. The body of Tevis was brought to Downieville, where he was buried amidst 
impressive ceremonies, conducted by the Good Templars the Masonic order, of 
which he was a member, refusing to bury him with the honors, because of their 
strong opposition to dueling. The Sierra Guards took a prominent place in the 
procession.