Volume 035-3 - July 1981 (8 pages)

LIFE AT MOORE’S FLAT BY WILLIAM LEWIS MANLY Moore’s Flat, Orleans Flat and Woolsey’s Flat are all similarly situated on different points of the mountain, on the north side of the ridge between the South and Middle Yuba River, and all at about the same altitude. A very deep canyon lies between each of them, but a good mountain road was built around the head of each canyon, connecting the towns. When the snow got to be three or four feet deep, the roads must be broken out and communication opened, and the boys used to turn out en masse and each one would take his turn in leading the army of road breakers. When the leader got tired out, some one would take his place, for it was terrible hard work to wade through the snow upto one’s hips, and the progress was very slow. But the boys went at it as if they were going toa picnic, and a sort of picnic it was when they reached the next town, for whisky was free and grub plenty to such a party, and jollity and fun the uppermost thoughts. On one such occasion when the crowd came through Orleans Flat to Moore’s Flat, Sid Hunt, the butcher was in the lead as they came in sight of the latter place, and both he and his followers talked pretty loud and rough to the Moore’s Flat fellows, calling them “lazy pups” for not getting their road clear. Hunt’s helper was a big, stout, loud talking young man, named Williams, and he shouted to the leader: “Sid Hunt, toot your horn if you don’t sell a clam.” This seemed to put both sides in good humor, and the Orleans fellows joined in a plenty to eat and drink, rested and went home. Next day, both camps joined forces and broke the road over to Woolsey’s Flat, and the third day crowded on toward Nevada City, and went out and across Bloody Run, a stream called thus because some dead men had been found at the head of the stream by the early settlers, and it was suspected the guilty murderers lived not far off, they turned down into Humbug, a town now called Bloomfield, and as they went down, the snow was not so deep. They soon met Sam Henry, the express man, working through with letters and papers, and all turned home again. A young doctor came to Moore’s Flat and soon became quite popular and after a little while purchased a small drug store at Orleans Flat. In this town there lived a man and his family and among them a little curly headed girl, perhaps one or two years old. She was sick and died and was buried while the ground was covered thick with snow. A little time after, it was discovered that the grave had been disturbed, and on examination, no body was found in the grave. Then a searching party was organized, and threats of vengeance made against the grave robber if he should be caught. No tracks were found leading out of town so they began to look inside, and there began some talk about this Dr. Kittredge as the culprit. He was the very man, and he went to his drug store and told his clerk to get a saddle horse and take the dead child’s body in a sack to his cabin at Moore’s Flat and conceal it in a back room. The clerk obeyed, and with the little corpse before him on the horse, started from the back door, rode furiously to Moore’s Flat and concealed the body as he had been directed. Some noticed that he had ridden unusually fast, and having a suspicion that all was not right, told their belief to the Orleans Flat people, who visited the Doctor at his store and accused him of the crime, and talked about hanging him on the spot without a trial. At this the Doctor began to be greatly frightened and begged pitiously for them to spare his life, confessing to the deed, but pleading in extenuation that it was for the purpose of confirming a question in his profession, and wholly in the interest of science that he did it, and really to spare the feelings of the parents that he did it secretly. He argued that no real harm had been done, and some of his friends sided with him in this view. But the controversy grew warmer and the house filled up with people. Some were bloodthirsty and needed no urging to proceed and buy a rope and use it. Others argued, and finally the Doctor said that the body had not been dissected, and if they would allow him, and appoint a committee to go with him, he would produce the body, and they could decently bury it again and there it might remain forever. This he promised to do, and all agreed to it, and he kept his word, thus ending the matter satisfactorily and the Doctor was released. But the feeling never died out. The Doctor’s friends deserted him, and no one seemed to like to converse with him. At the saloon he would sit like a perfect stranger, no one noticing him, and he soon left for new fields. The first tunnel run at Moore’s Flat was called the Paradise, and had to be started low on the side of the mountain in order to drain the ground, and had to be blasted through the bed rock for about 200 feet. Four of us secured ground enough by purchase so we could afford to undertake this expensive job and we worked on it day and night. Jerry Clark and Len Redfield worked on the day shifts, and Sam King and Wm. Quirk the night shift. When the tunnel was completed about 100 feet, the night shift had driven forward the top of the tunnel asa heading, leaving the bottom, which was about a foot thick, or more, to be taken out by the day shift. They drilled a hole about two feet horizontally to blast out this bench. King would sit and hold the drill between his feet, while Quirk would strike with a heavy sledge. When the hole was loaded, they tamped down the charge very hard so as to be sure it would not blow out, but lift the whole bench. One day when they were loading a hole, King told Quirk to come down pretty heavy on the tamping, so as to make all sure, and after a few blows given as directed, there was an explosion, and Quirk was forced some distance out of the tunnel, his eyes nearly put out with dirt blown into them, and his face and body cut with flying pieces of rock. He was at first completely stunned, but after awhile recovered so as to make his way up the hill on hands and knees when he was discovered and helped to his cabin here his wounds were washed and dressed. Then a party with lighted candles entered the tunnel to learn the fate of King, and they found him lying on the mass of rock the blast had lifted, dead. On a piece of board they bore the body to his cabin. There was hardly a whole bone remaining. A cut diagonally across his face, made by a sharp stone, had nearly cut his head in two. He had been thrown so violently against the roof of the tunnel, about 6 feet high, that he was completely mashed. He had a wife in Mas(sachusetts) and as I often heard him talk of her, and of sending her money, I bought a $100 check and sent it in the same letter which bore the melancholy news. King had a claim at Chip’s Flat which he believed would be very rich in time, so I kept his interest up in it till it amounted to $500 and then abandonned the claim and pocketed the loss. We made a pine box, and putting his body in it, laid it away with respect. I had often heard him say that if he suffered an accident, he wished to be killed outright and not be left a cripple, and his wish came true. After this accident, the blacksmith working for the Paradise Co., was making some repairs about the surface of the airshaft, and among his tools was a bar of steel an inch square, and 8 or 10 feet long, which was thrown across the shaft, and while working at the whim wheel he slipped and struck this bar which fell to the bottom of the shaft, 100 feet deep, and the blacksmith followed. When the other workmen went down to his assistance, they found that the bar of steel had stuck upright in the bottom of the shaft, and when the man came down it pierced his body from hip to neck, killing him instantly. He was a young man, and I have forgotten his name. Those who came to California these later years (1894) will not many of them see the old aparatus and appliances which were used in saving the gold in those primitive days. Among them was the old “rocker”. This had a bottom about 5 feet long and 16 inches wide, with the sides about 8 inches high for half the length, and sloped off to two inches at the end. There wasa bar about an inch high across the end toserveasa riffle, and on the higher end of this box was a stationary box 14 inch square, 18

LIFE AT MOORE’S FLAT BY WILLIAM LEWIS MANLY Moore’s Flat, Orleans Flat and Woolsey’s Flat are all similarly situated on different points of the mountain, on the north side of the ridge between the South and Middle Yuba River, and all at about the same altitude. A very deep canyon lies between each of them, but a good mountain road was built around the head of each canyon, connecting the towns. When the snow got to be three or four feet deep, the roads must be broken out and communication opened, and the boys used to turn out en masse and each one would take his turn in leading the army of road breakers. When the leader got tired out, some one would take his place, for it was terrible hard work to wade through the snow upto one’s hips, and the progress was very slow. But the boys went at it as if they were going toa picnic, and a sort of picnic it was when they reached the next town, for whisky was free and grub plenty to such a party, and jollity and fun the uppermost thoughts. On one such occasion when the crowd came through Orleans Flat to Moore’s Flat, Sid Hunt, the butcher was in the lead as they came in sight of the latter place, and both he and his followers talked pretty loud and rough to the Moore’s Flat fellows, calling them “lazy pups” for not getting their road clear. Hunt’s helper was a big, stout, loud talking young man, named Williams, and he shouted to the leader: “Sid Hunt, toot your horn if you don’t sell a clam.” This seemed to put both sides in good humor, and the Orleans fellows joined in a plenty to eat and drink, rested and went home. Next day, both camps joined forces and broke the road over to Woolsey’s Flat, and the third day crowded on toward Nevada City, and went out and across Bloody Run, a stream called thus because some dead men had been found at the head of the stream by the early settlers, and it was suspected the guilty murderers lived not far off, they turned down into Humbug, a town now called Bloomfield, and as they went down, the snow was not so deep. They soon met Sam Henry, the express man, working through with letters and papers, and all turned home again. A young doctor came to Moore’s Flat and soon became quite popular and after a little while purchased a small drug store at Orleans Flat. In this town there lived a man and his family and among them a little curly headed girl, perhaps one or two years old. She was sick and died and was buried while the ground was covered thick with snow. A little time after, it was discovered that the grave had been disturbed, and on examination, no body was found in the grave. Then a searching party was organized, and threats of vengeance made against the grave robber if he should be caught. No tracks were found leading out of town so they began to look inside, and there began some talk about this Dr. Kittredge as the culprit. He was the very man, and he went to his drug store and told his clerk to get a saddle horse and take the dead child’s body in a sack to his cabin at Moore’s Flat and conceal it in a back room. The clerk obeyed, and with the little corpse before him on the horse, started from the back door, rode furiously to Moore’s Flat and concealed the body as he had been directed. Some noticed that he had ridden unusually fast, and having a suspicion that all was not right, told their belief to the Orleans Flat people, who visited the Doctor at his store and accused him of the crime, and talked about hanging him on the spot without a trial. At this the Doctor began to be greatly frightened and begged pitiously for them to spare his life, confessing to the deed, but pleading in extenuation that it was for the purpose of confirming a question in his profession, and wholly in the interest of science that he did it, and really to spare the feelings of the parents that he did it secretly. He argued that no real harm had been done, and some of his friends sided with him in this view. But the controversy grew warmer and the house filled up with people. Some were bloodthirsty and needed no urging to proceed and buy a rope and use it. Others argued, and finally the Doctor said that the body had not been dissected, and if they would allow him, and appoint a committee to go with him, he would produce the body, and they could

decently bury it again and there it might remain forever. This he promised to do, and all agreed to it, and he kept his word, thus ending the matter satisfactorily and the Doctor was released. But the feeling never died out. The Doctor’s friends deserted him, and no one seemed to like to converse with him. At the saloon he would sit like a perfect stranger, no one noticing him, and he soon left for new fields. The first tunnel run at Moore’s Flat was called the Paradise, and had to be started low on the side of the mountain in order to drain the ground, and had to be blasted through the bed rock for about 200 feet. Four of us secured ground enough by purchase so we could afford to undertake this expensive job and we worked on it day and night. Jerry Clark and Len Redfield worked on the day shifts, and Sam King and Wm. Quirk the night shift. When the tunnel was completed about 100 feet, the night shift had driven forward the top of the tunnel asa heading, leaving the bottom, which was about a foot thick, or more, to be taken out by the day shift. They drilled a hole about two feet horizontally to blast out this bench. King would sit and hold the drill between his feet, while Quirk would strike with a heavy sledge. When the hole was loaded, they tamped down the charge very hard so as to be sure it would not blow out, but lift the whole bench. One day when they were loading a hole, King told Quirk to come down pretty heavy on the tamping, so as to make all sure, and after a few blows given as directed, there was an explosion, and Quirk was forced some distance out of the tunnel, his eyes nearly put out with dirt blown into them, and his face and body cut with flying pieces of rock. He was at first completely stunned, but after awhile recovered so as to make his way up the hill on hands and knees when he was discovered and helped to his cabin here his wounds were washed and dressed. Then a party with lighted candles entered the tunnel to learn the fate of King, and they found him lying on the mass of rock the blast had lifted, dead. On a piece of board they bore the body to his cabin. There was hardly a whole bone remaining. A cut diagonally across his face, made by a sharp stone, had nearly cut his head in two. He had been thrown so violently against the roof of the tunnel, about 6 feet high, that he was completely mashed. He had a wife in Mas(sachusetts) and as I often heard him talk of her, and of sending her money, I bought a $100 check and sent it in the same letter which bore the melancholy news. King had a claim at Chip’s Flat which he believed would be very rich in time, so I kept his interest up in it till it amounted to $500 and then abandonned the claim and pocketed the loss. We made a pine box, and putting his body in it, laid it away with respect. I had often heard him say that if he suffered an accident, he wished to be killed outright and not be left a cripple, and his wish came true. After this accident, the blacksmith working for the Paradise Co., was making some repairs about the surface of the airshaft, and among his tools was a bar of steel an inch square, and 8 or 10 feet long, which was thrown across the shaft, and while working at the whim wheel he slipped and struck this bar which fell to the bottom of the shaft, 100 feet deep, and the blacksmith followed. When the other workmen went down to his assistance, they found that the bar of steel had stuck upright in the bottom of the shaft, and when the man came down it pierced his body from hip to neck, killing him instantly. He was a young man, and I have forgotten his name. Those who came to California these later years (1894) will not many of them see the old aparatus and appliances which were used in saving the gold in those primitive days. Among them was the old “rocker”. This had a bottom about 5 feet long and 16 inches wide, with the sides about 8 inches high for half the length, and sloped off to two inches at the end. There wasa bar about an inch high across the end toserveasa riffle, and on the higher end of this box was a stationary box 14 inch square, 18