The Infamous Black Bird Southern Oregon History, Revised

Jackson County 1860

    Jackson County is bounded on the north by Douglas, on the east by the Cascades, on the south by California, and on the west by Josephine and Curry.
    County Officers.--Sheriff, L. J. C. Duncan; County Clerk, Wm. Hoffman; Treasurer, David Linn; Assessor, John Q. Tabor; Coroner, James Hamlin; County Judge, James G. Tolman; County Commissioners, Frederick Heber, John M. Nichols, and James C. Tolman.
Oregon and Washington Almanac, 1860, page 32

Jacksonville, Feb. 26, 1860.   
    FRIEND BUSH: Allow me, through the medium of your paper, to offer to your many readers a few items of interest and notes from the "Sunny South." This part of the country is rather in the downward tendency, with regard to improvements of most every description, and most particularly the circulation of money is very slow. The principal cause of these uncommonly slow times is the remarkably dry winter we are having, the consequence of which is that the placer mines are not being worked, and they are very nearly the only source from which there are any anticipations of the spondulix. The mines are the rich pastures on which the merchants, farmers, gamblers, loafers and men of any occupation graze, and some few get very fat, but seldom the miners who take out the money. There is a constant draining of our county, but no filling up. I do not put this county up as being of much consequence in the future unless the discoveries of gold-bearing quartz [at Gold Hill] prove to be as good as now thought. You have in the Sentinel a very authentic account of the quartz discoveries and excitement in this vicinity.
    I would like to awaken the law-abiding portion of people here to a sense of their moral, virtuous and local duty. Our laws are made too much a farce of here. We have too many gamblers, blacklegs and loafers in our midst. There are too many shooting affrays left almost unnoticed, too many murders committed, and the guilty go unpunished. The above-mentioned class of men have too much to say in our courts of pretended justice. No longer ago than last week the deputy sheriff of this county was circulating a petition for the commutation of Bowen's sentence, who was to have been hung on the 10th inst., but his time was prolonged by the Governor, to give them time to get all the signers possible. Bowen, in attempting to rob a Chinaman of his money, killed him, and now a great many say he ought not to be punished for killing a defenseless Chinaman. It seems to me a cowardly act, which he knew he could commit with impunity and run no risk of losing his own life, unless by the execution of the law, which he is about to avoid by the help of many interested friends. I hope, however, that our Gov. will not be blinded on this matter, but let him pull hemp. Everything is ready, the gallows built, the coffin made, the rope purchased and everything in readiness for the execution and interment.
    Lamerick is thought to be recovering; if he gets well, I think the affair will pass by without much noise.
    Politics run very low here, at this time, with the exception of trouble in regard to electing a Speaker. As there is so much talk about a dissolution, I feel curious to know, like some others, how they are going to do it? I would like to vote on the point myself, for I don't like to trust in Jo. [Lane] and Lansing to vote as my proxies. If it should be dissolved, I would like to know what part of the tunes "Hail Columbia" and "Yankee Doodle" they are going to give the North and what the South, and what part of the fourth of July and many other little things that would spoil to divide them!
               A MINER.
Letter dated February 26, 1860, Oregon Statesman, Oregon City, March 27, 1860, page 1


The El Dorado of Southern Oregon.
    I arrived here two or three days ago, and am most pleased with the country generally. Rogue River Valley, in which this town is situated, is one of the most beautiful valleys I ever saw. The climate is remarkably mild, fruit trees being in full blossom--and there is an air of thrift which I have witnessed nowhere since leaving the Atlantic States. The lands are well fenced, many with fine broad fences, such as we see in the East, and the houses are invariably fine large two-story dwellings, and all painted white. This town is bound to become an important point. New quartz discoveries are being made daily in the mountains, at the base of which it is situated.
    The Ish, or Gold Hill, claim continues to turn out an astonishing amount of wealth. The company employ but a few men, working eight hours per day. They are waiting for machinery from San Francisco. The claim is situated twelve miles from town. They have two arrastras, and have ground about ten tons of rock, which has yielded $75,000.
    On the 2nd and 3rd inst. they took out two tons of rock which, it is estimated, will yield $15,000 per ton--many say $40,000 per ton.
    The Hicks lode, two and a half miles from town, pays $50 to $80 per ton.
    The Blue lode, two and a half miles from town, is about five feet wide, and prospects same as the Hicks.
    There are also some dozen other lodes, which are not thoroughly prospected, but, as far as heard from, yield from $30 to $70 per ton.
    The Blackwell lode has been prospected, and traced for a long distance, and yields from $40 to $60 per ton.
    This place presents an excellent field for capitalists, far better than any in California. The people are rather slow, and lack the enterprise we see exhibited in California towns.
    A telegraph company is about being organized, and the prospect is that, within four months, we will be in telegraphic communication with San Francisco.
Daily Alta California, April 13, 1860, page 4

The Resources of Northern California and Southern Oregon.
    Within the past six months.new discoveries of gold deposits have been made in the extreme northern section of the state and in Southern Oregon, that far surpass in richness any that have heretofore been made since that memorable day in 1848, when Marshall discovered a few glittering grains in the mill-race at Colima. We have additional reports of wonderful gold discoveries in that quarter--which are published elsewhere in this issue of the Alta--and which go to prove that Northern California and Southern Oregon are marvelously rich in gold deposits, and that these deposits are as yet, in the main, undeveloped and undiscovered. There is a belt of territory bounded by the Umpqua River on the north, and the Klamath on the south, and stretching to an indefinite distance eastward, about which comparatively little is known in regard to its mineral wealth, since a scanty and sparse population is all that it contains, and mining has, ever, by that population, been comparatively neglected. The hostile tribes of Rogue and Pistol rivers, and other northern Indians, have, until within a year or two, held almost supreme control of this section. These, together with the rugged nature of the country, mainly covered, as it is, with the old primeval forests--have kept back the advance of civilization, and made a wild waste of solitude of nearly the whole of that vast section of territory. And the tramp of the lordly elk, the bounding step of the deer, or the whirring wing of the pine grouse, are almost the only sounds that break the repose in which it has slumbered for countless centuries. The explorer may strike a line into these forest-crowned hills, blazing his way as he goes, on the rough stems of the lordly pines, until he comes to some one of the many streams that find their way seaward at frequent intervals of space. Here let him set about prospecting the soil for gold, and he is always sure to find "the color," and often in paying quantity. Or, taking the line of the ocean beach from Trinidad to Coos Bay, and the sands of the beach will be found rich with the precious metal, but so fine in grain as to have baffled the inventive skill of practical miners and others thus far, in every attempt that has been made to devise a method by which it can be saved. If we add to these facts the recent discoveries that have more recently been made, of fabulously rich quartz lodes, within the section alluded to, we surely have enough of outward evidence upon which to base the assertion that this whole section is destined to become a rich mining region, inferior in no respect to any portion of the mineral districts of Central California.
    Then, again, we have to add to this the discoveries that have been made eastward of Crescent City, of rich copper deposit. Without knowing, as yet, what the extent or richness of these copper mines may be, they, nevertheless, promise to add materially to the annual metallic product of California, and will probably exercise no small influence in helping to people the northern portion of the state.
    All that is wanted to open up this section of the Pacific Coast is population. There is the hidden wealth, waiting only for the energetic and industrious to dig for it, and bring it to light. There, too, are productive valleys and hillsides which invite the agriculturist, while the hills abound with game and the rivers with fish. In fact, taking it as a whole, we know of no other spot on the habitable globe which holds out greater inducements for a hardy and industrious people to emigrate to than that to which we have alluded. And we hail these new gold discoveries with unfeigned pleasure, since they can scarcely fail to prove the magnet which is to draw thither a strong tide of emigration from the Atlantic States, thereby adding to the power and wealth of the Pacific border, which already approaches the majestic proportions of a great empire of civilization, wealth and political importance. 
Daily Alta California, San Francisco, June 7, 1860, page 2

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SCOTT'S RIVER, November 21, 1860.
Trip up the Sacramento.
    The steamer Queen City carried us on the evening of the 12th inst. to Sacramento, from whence following the river to Marysville, the somewhat novel trip of a journey through Northern California to Oregon was commenced. Several gentlemen of note were on board, and to them, as well as to the kindness of the boat's officers, I am indebted for the enjoyment of the first hours out from San Francisco.
    The pulse of the "City of Homesteads" did not beat fast enough to satisfy me but a short time, and 7 o'clock a.m. found us slowly, but surely, ascending the Upper Sacramento, on the steamer James Blair. The promenade deck is scarcely high enough to afford a good view of the valley, and the traveler is constantly tantalized with now and than a glimpse out over the banks on either side. If he is so fortunate as to receive an invitation into the pilot house some advantage will be gained.
Scenery of the Valley.
    A good view of the valley of the Sacramento, on a clear day, is an object of interest to him even who can least admire the works of nature. Stretching, as it does, from the Coast Range to the Sierras, a distance of one hundred and twenty miles, the mountains in each direction, already tipped in their regal white, the blue foothills, rising and falling in their undulations as far as the eye can reach to the north, and the plain, dried and sere after its summer scorching, make up a scene, toto caelo, which is quite refreshing. As we get farther up the river, the banks are so covered with cottonwoods and willows as to entirely shut out the view. Miles away from us, in every direction, are lying the magnificent landscapes and wondrous beauties of California; its thousands of industrious and happy inhabitants are plodding through the daily routine of life; its hillsides and little dales are comforting themselves with flocks and herds, and the mountain gulches are yielding up their hundreds of thousands of almighty dollars, as usual. But the curtain has dropped; the travelers on the James Blair are sleepy, listless, incognizant.
Dinner--An Act of Charity.
    Turning our attention to the feast of good things which our steward serves up every four hours at a dollar a sit, a new topic commends itself. I had the satisfaction of seeing briskly fed, with knife, fork and fingers, and mainly with their own exertions, a poor lone woman, with five small children, and ne'er a cent of money (after the paying eaters had finished). One of the little girls was keen, and possessed of bright eyes. She said that her papa had died but a few weeks ago, and that now they "didn't live anywheres," but were going to the mines again, where they had formerly resided. Poor, ragged starvelings! I was glad to see them eat: it might have softened the heart of a miser, and it was a credit to the steward, perhaps, even if he should have to tax those who are able to make up the deficit. Back in the mountains, where they have "seen better days," among the big hearts there, may they yet be happy again, Deo volente.
The Stage Route to Oregon.
    The readers of the Alta everywhere, have, some time ago, known the fact that the California Stage Co. are running a daily line of U.S. mail and passenger coaches between Sacramento and the city of Portland, in Oregon, traversing in their course some hitherto impassable mountain steeps, and over a wild, rough country, little known except to those who have traveled it. By the energy and wealth of said company, roads and bridges have been built where, only a few months ago, it would have been considered impracticable, and the establishing of the line has given a new impetus to business through our whole northern country. It is partly for the purpose of giving the reader a general idea of the route, the towns situated thereon, together with news and incidents of travel, that the first two or three of this series of letters will be written.
    The regular Oregon stage leaves Marysville at 2 p.m.; but, upon this occasion, preferring to remain a few hours at Oroville, I took a morning coach by the same line, arriving at the terminus (in prospecto) of the Sacramento Valley Railroad, at 11 a.m. This is a large flourishing town, situated on the Feather River, a locality once celebrated for its rich gold deposits, but, of late, less noted in that respect, yet maintaining its reputation as a commercial inland depot, and with large hopes for the future, as soon as they get a railroad connecting them with Marysville and Sacramento. Butte County is rich enough to carry out this project, and there is reason to suppose it will be much sooner accomplished than people are at present inclined to believe. An agent has already gone east to purchase the iron.
    We left this place at 7 p.m., traveling all night. Passed Red Bluffs at six in the morning, arriving at Shasta at noon. The morning trip was over a rolling country, skirted here and there with a stunted growth of scraggy oaks and manzanita, presenting rather a cheerless aspect.
Mount Shasta.
    Before us, Mount Shasta, ninety miles away, reared its white-capped summit--sufficient in itself to attract all our attention, and grand enough to satisfy the most rhapsodical admirer. The roads were good, and the time made, excellent. By the way, what a queer class of the world's people these stage drivers are: None of your commoners; not exactly belonging to the aristocracy, but, on an average, big men with big hearts, and great favorites with the ladies; they are usually temperate, sedate, and occasionally eccentric, and rarely offer to the traveler anything like uncourteous or impertinent language--a class of men which could illy be spared among the mountainous gulches of California.
    Shasta is situated among the hills, irregularly constructed, and the center of a large and prosperous mining region. It is possessed of many fine buildings, including residences, stores, hotels, etc.; a climate rather desirable than otherwise, although they do say that it is the warmest place in the state in the summer time. The whole inhabitants possess in a generous degree the affable manners and gentility so acceptable to strangers in transito; and the "Hotel de Empire" is a respectable and comfortable institution. Most all travelers, when they arrive at this point, fancy themselves far enough north, and it requires more than an ordinary desire for seeing the world to prompt them to continue on, unless special business calls. It is here that we leave the coaches and take the familiarly termed mud wagon, they being better adapted to bad roads and sideling hills, and if anybody has ever rode enough in them to form an indissoluble fondness for the like, he must be a curiosity indeed.
A Mining Camp.
    After a pleasant afternoon's journey we arrived at 6½ p.m. at that world-renowned camp., known as French Gulch, when gold, in quantities, has been, and will for years to come, be the principal commodity. This is one of your genuine ravines, walled with hills which prevent the sun from rising till late in the forenoon, and for a picture of which the reader is referred to the old numbers of Hatchings' Magazine. The town contains a hotel, kept by Mr. Wm. Krepp; a butcher's shop, by Messrs. Hopping & McGuire; a school, by Mrs. Milliman; and a church, kept by the foundation which supports it. Future generations will point with pride back to the time when their fathers lived and mined and voted both the Democratic tickets of 1860, in the town of French Gulch. The manners and customs of the people are perfect ebullitions of good nature, and frankness, "first, last and all the time," and the traveler towards Oregon cannot do better than stop a day. Mr. McClary has a ditch running out of Clear Creek, where he can turn off the water at any time, take out as many bushels of fine fish as he requires, and then, turning on the water again, save those remaining for some other occasion. I noticed here a pair of fine sleighs (with "bobs"), well cushioned and finished; they are marked "C.S. Co.," and intended for the accommodation of travelers over the mountains in time of snows, another evidence that nothing will be left undone to make the transit one of speed and pleasure the year round. Reminding you that we are now in one of the most wealthy mining localities of the North, we bid adieu to the inhabitants of French Gulch.
Trinity Mountain.
    After a night's drive over Trinity Mountain, upon which the ascent is so gradual, and the road so well improved, that we were not called upon to walk, arrive at four a.m. at Trinity Center, a thriving little town among the pines and mines of Trinity County, and the locale of which has been called into notice, if in no other manner, by the sweet poetry of Mrs. Anne K. H. Lader, who has resided here. The county seat, Weaverville, is situated to the westward some twenty miles or more, and said to be a fast progressing place. They claim the marble statue in this county, having given $550 to the Monument Fund, at the late election. The precinct of Minersville, sixty-six votes, contributing seventy-six dollars; Steiner's Flat, forty-four votes, fifty dollars. This at once gives evidence of the intellectual and patriotic stamina of the people. They are prosperous, happy, and deserving. Judging from the expressed desire of the blacksmith to obtain a wife, his promising, "if he could find one," to furnish her with all the luxuries of this life; and his lack of time to read newspapers, I could not arrive at an accurate opinion whether there was really a scarcity of ladies here or not, but out of sympathy for him will suppose there are none too many of them.
    I heard a characteristic joke of a Chinaman here, who wishing to get all the leather he could for his money, bought a pair of boots three inches too long, and then had them cut off to fit.
    The people of Trinity Center must not be too particular, but encourage the immigration of all good girls, whether handsome or not, educated or not, and when they have them, train them to their ideas and peculiarities of life. I think, however, without joking, that about twenty young housekeepers could obtain good husbands hereabout, in a abort time.
Ascent of Scott Mountain.
    At three a.m., left Trinity Center with enlarged ideas of its importance, and a very friendly feeling towards the citizens, and wondering that with what had been said about it, I had not ere this formed a correct idea.
    At this point begins a very interesting portion of the journey. After a drive of fourteen miles, we arrived, a little after daylight, at the New York House. How proud the Empire State would feel if it only knew about this rough little namesake. The passengers breakfast here, and by all means they are advised to eat all they can, although their steaks be boiled to the consistency of sole leather, and the bread only is a state of semiperfection, and the price no larger than the dollars at other mountain hotels, because before reaching the summit, they will need to have done so. The stage had a number of ladies, who lingered after the driver's third request to "get aboard," and he was about to start off without them, when they scrambled in like so many sheep. He was compelled to drive very fast to make up the lost time. Four miles on, we changed horses again, and a few moments later, arriving at the foot of the mountain, the driver pleasantly excused the gentlemen passengers from further attendance until he should meet us again five miles ahead. All complied cheerfully, and now commenced the ascent of Scott Mountain, over a gradual, but continuous rise for a distance of five miles, and over which, not a year ago, it was considered almost impossible to ever build a road at all.
    We walked up to the top: the road is cut out of the steep hillsides the entire distance, and most of the way the lower side is regularly walled up with large boulders. It inclines first to the left, then to the right, following the sinuosities of the mountain, making some short turns, and passing over swift watercourses, well bridged. The. road is mostly a better one than the valley usually affords, and there is no trouble for loaded teams to pass over it at this season, and probably will remain open most of the winter. The scenery is not remarkable, on account of the dense forests, where are found the usual varieties of pine, fir, spruce, etc. About two and a half miles up, however, glancing back toward the south, the valley has a beautiful blue and picturesque appearance, not unlike the Allegheny, near Cresson, in Pennsylvania. As we advance higher, listening with delight to the waterfalls down below us, and gazing on the hilltops to the left, their snowy crests glistening in the sunshine, we are led to admire, with a feeling of awe, their grandeur, and to thank our stars for so opportunely sending us this way. The California Stage Company deserve great credit for building this road. We have now reached the summit, and, having had a long but pleasant foot-jaunt, take to the coach and commence the descent rapidly. From the county line, at the top, on this side, I understand that the county of Siskiyou, under the direction of its Board of Supervisors, have built the road, to the job having been well performed by the contractor, Mr. Thomas Masterson.
    Arrived at Callahan's ranch at 11 a.m. This is an important point, and the surrounding country, on the South Fork of Scott River, is one of the richest localities, for mining, anywhere to be found. The traveler will receive polite attention, good fare, easy beds, etc., at the hotel, kept by Asa White, Esq.
Primitive Mining.
    I visited the South Fork, and there saw mining in all its primitive phases and interesting details, not excepting the cabins in their primitive style, as in years past; the gray shirts, big boots and mining implements in any quantity. Miners make money here all the year round, and seemed to be a very industrious and contented people. Few of the readers of the Alta who have not been there can form an accurate idea of the South Fork of Scott River.
    In my next, I will commence with a description of the Scott River Valley, its fine farms, beautiful scenes, industrious and intellectual population, the towns, etc., all of which is but comparatively little known to the people of California.    C.L.G.
Daily Alta California, San Francisco, November 29, 1860, page 1

Towns in Rogue River Valley.
    The first little town we come to is Ashland, situated eight miles from the head of this valley. It contains a post office, flouring mill, hotel, saloon, shops, etc., and is a sort of headquarters for a thriving community of farmers, stock raisers and miners. The waters of Mill Creek--which runs down from the hills and enters Bear Creek a mile below this--are claimed for milling, though no doubt they could be used for mining to more advantage in a year than for milling in a century.
    It is proverbial in California that Oregonians hate work, are rather inert in their habits, etc., but Jackson County bears testimony strong as holy writ to the contrary. I have investigated the subject a little, and will venture a bold assertion, but a true one, to wit: that California cannot produce, or has not got within her boundaries, as thrifty and enterprising a set of farmers, even in her most of all exalted and pretentious county of Alameda, or the valley of San Jose, as can be seen right here in Rogue River Valley. The visitor will roam over the farms and climb the best of fences on all sides, and declare himself most agreeably disappointed, after having perused sketches of travel concocted at home, setting off Oregon matters in a most unenviable style. He may, indeed, find labor-saving machines which our people would have never thought of, such as the plow which needs no one to hold it. I saw one the other day for the first time; it is constructed with the beam resting on an axle, with two wooden wheels about twenty-six inches in diameter, one of which travels in the furrow, and the other one to the left, or on the unplowed ground. They hold the plow steady in its place, and cause it to cut an even furrow, both in width and depth.
    Phoenix is another town, somewhat larger than Ashland, and situated on the main road leading to Jacksonville. It has similar advantages in many respects, and is a pretty place. On my return I intend to give it a huge puff.
Productions of the Soil.
    Mr. Emery, at Ashland, has shown me a few specimens of his own, among which are admirable growths of onions, corn, potatoes, etc., and grand squashes. Traveling down the valley, it becomes wider, and such an uninterrupted scene of peace and plenty would satisfy a cormorant. My route led me off the stage road several miles farther towards the central portion, where farms and meadows are spread out in unsurpassed loveliness on either side of the stream. I wandered thither to take a look at things, and good fortune brought me to the door of S. M. Wait, Esq., whose residence and improvements, in a few short years, have received that degree of care and expense seldom seen, and which would be a credit to a country settled fifty years ago. He raises good corn, barley, potatoes and wheat on his poorest lands; say, of the latter, forty bushels to the acre--a fair estimate. It is a superior article, and kept clear of smut by dampening the seed in a solution of blue vitriol. He has 400 grape vines growing, and also a young orchard, keeps a thousand sheep, the profits on wool being considerable, though far away from market. It occurs to me that a woolen factory at Jacksonville would be a good idea.
    Mr. W. is certain that there are many places in the hills, on the west side of the valley, where miners could average twenty-five dollars per diem each, if they only had water. As it is, many of them are not even claimed. He also tells me that money is scarce, that men who are worth their $20,000 cannot raise $2,000, and that some of those who now feel this want have brought it on themselves, perhaps, by a little too much extravagance, but a larger portion from the failure of government to pay the war debt. . . .
C.L.G. [C. L. Graves?]
Daily Alta California, San Francisco, December 16, 1860, page 1

Fruit Growing.
    Rogue River Valley has, as yet, few orchards old enough to bear much fruit. In the quantity produced, they will probably always remain behind their neighbors of Willamette, but time will better establish to what extent they will be enabled to compete in this trade. Some fine commencements have been made in the way of young orchards; the trees appear to thrive well, and no doubt is entertained that in a year Jackson County will have fruit to keep and to sell, which now she has to purchase at high prices from her affluent neighbor, the Willamette. I noticed a day or two since a new idea for setting out trees in rows. It consists of a right-angled triangle, made of laths or other light material, and of sufficient length to reach from one row to another. Three men carry it and set the trees by it; this, unlike the Oregon plow, is not a labor-saving machine, the economy consisting entirely in the neatness which perfect geometrical proportions impart to all orchards.
Grain Raising.
    The lands for wheat are now being plowed and sowed. Some soils require deep and some shallow plowing, according to the variations or depth. The seeding goes on all winter, there being no cessation necessary until everything is finished up in the spring. In this way, the Oregon farmer is relieved of the usual winter idleness which most farmers elsewhere enjoy.
Jacksonville, Oregon.
    This incorporated city lies in the western corner of the valley [and] is romantically located, with the rising hills on one side and the gentle slope towards the valley on [the] other. There is plenty of lumber and good water in the vicinity, and the scenery is very beautiful in every direction. To the northeast, over the hilltops, is McLoughlin's Butte, presenting a most regular and commanding appearance, being very white and without any seeming rough exterior, but gently rising up, a cone of perfect model and elegance. It is supposed to be at least 1,300 feet above the level of the sea, and was named in honor of Dr. McLoughlin, former chief factor of the Hudson Bay Co., and who died some two years ago at Oregon City, where he had resided for many years. It is a worthy tribute to the memory of that good man that this noble mountain bears his name. In early times it is told of him that when the famished immigrants arrived from the plains, he freely gave them cattle to eat and horses to cultivate the soil with, and to no one who seemed needy was his charity refused. In full view of Jacksonville, Mount McLoughlin peeps over from behind the hills as a bright white monument, seemingly erected there for some remembrance of good deeds.
    Jacksonville is a place of considerable importance and destined for a bright future. Its mines only require labor to lift it from its present humble position to the first rank among the interior cities on the coast. It contains twelve or fifteen fine stores, some fireproof buildings, a large number of blacksmiths, shoemakers, gunsmiths and other mechanical shops, two churches with spires (Catholic and Methodist), a straight-out Democratic newspaper, several billiard saloons, and more than the usual average of good residences. Mr. Beekman runs an express to Yreka; Mr. Eddy, of San Francisco, has a dancing schooling prosperous circumstances, &c.
    On my return, I intend to "do" Jacksonville handsomely in the way of minute detail of her establishments, her people, their manners and customs, their wealth and public spirit, &c. I shall then dilate upon the advantages that will accrue to them from a Pacific railroad, a ditch from Applegate, and the damages likely to be caused by the failure of the U.S. marshal to more than half take the census of the county, and I shall make known to the world the benefits likely to result or hinge upon the future wranglings of the incorporated ditch company, &c.
    During my stay, I have been much pleased with the urbanity of many gentlemen, among whom may be enumerated Messrs. James O'Meara, I. D. Haines, H. Parker, Sachs Bros., H. C. Lessions [and] mine host, Horne of the United States Hotel.
Mining Camps in the Vicinity.
    There are the following to visit and describe when I return to this portion of the state: Rich Gulch, Poorman's Creek, Sterling, Applegate, Buncom, Jackson Creek, Willow Springs, Gold Hill, Williamsburg and perhaps some others.
Daily Alta California, San Francisco, December 17, 1860, page 1

Road and Railroad.
    It is a very nice thing to ride seven or eight hundred miles in a stage--to be jolted from one side to the other till you are compelled to get out, and then to run on foot till you are obliged to get in. The Oregon route, in both these respects, much surpasses the Southern Overland. Their road is a plain--ours isn't; their country is champagne--ours is Tom and Jerry, well mixed. The southerners want a railroad over that route; they ought to be ashamed of themselves. With a level road all the way, stages are good enough. The Republicans want a railroad over the central route, with an extension over this way to Oregon that would come over valleys and under mountains, and are in favor of railroads wherever it is too rough for staging, regardless of expense. They "soot" me; on that topic, they're my sort. The people here want it; they are a State, and they voted for Lincoln. Oregon must have a railroad some way, and if the incoming administration, with your Senators and our Senators, does not manage this, it will be a subject for animadversion.
Leaving Jacksonville for the North.
    It was a cool morning the 4th inst. that, leaving Jacksonville at 4 a.m., we traveled at a fast gait through the "grey rain curtains" and over an excellent road, thirty-two miles before breakfast. Our driver, Mr. Asher Wall, is one of those careful yet expeditious men which the C.S. Company always so judiciously select. This is the first time since leaving Sacramento that I have not been wrapt in the beauties of the morning, and the first time that I have been wrapt in a fog so thick that there has to be cowcatchers on the 'eds of the 'orses. At the station where we breakfasted, they keep a pet deer which actually chews tobacco with avidity. They intend to teach him to drink whiskey.
    The country is a succession of hills and dales, densely covered with pines, firs, oaks, etc. On some of the streams where tillable bottom lands appear there have been good beginnings--houses built and fences made, most of which are desolate from Indian wars, and the old palisades look dingy now, and hollow, as if the wind whistled through them at night and spirits of murdered women and children walked there. Farther on we find, occasionally, that work has been resumed, and some few comfortable-looking homes have sprung up again.
    Passing over about sixty miles of this kind of region, we reach the famous cañon about which so much has been told, and which has for years been the great hindrance to travel between the Umpqua and Rogue River valleys. It is about twelve miles in length, consisting of a narrow gorge between high mountains and through which a small stream of water flows in each direction from the highest point, situated two or three miles north of the southern end of it. The rise and descent is very gradual, and the whole distance is a perfect copse or jungle of trees and brushwood, through which the pioneer explorers were several days in forcing their way. A portion of the wagon road is rough, and some two or three miles of it is at present very muddy, but it is neither bilge water, a sewer or quagmire that people cannot go through, or teams either, if they only think so. The road can be made a good one with little expense, and I presume Umpqua County will attend to that next summer.
    As soon as we get through we arrive at Cañonville, north of Jacksonville seventy-five miles. Having reached the place after dark, and departed next morning before light, I can say nothing of the town at present. . . .
Daily Alta California, San Francisco, December 25, 1860, page 1

Last revised March 8, 2021