Yuba-Sutter County CA Archives Biographies.....Brown, Joseph 
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Source: See below
Author: Joseph Brown

CHAPTER III 

THE STORY OF JOSEPH BROWN 

    Of the splendid army of pioneers who set the stakes for the civilization of
Yuba and Sutter Counties, the editor of this history can find but one who kept a
diary of his "ups and downs" for the perusal of his descendants. That one is
Joseph Brown, who for many years, until his death, in 1917, made Marysville his
home, and who left a family of sons and daughters esteemed highly in the
community. To one of the daughters. Airs. John C. Dooley of this city, the
editor is indebted for the interesting account contained in this chapter, which
is made up from her father's diary. 

    Joseph Brown, with his parents and 500 others, left their home in Iowa, May
15, 1849, to cross the plains for the new El Dorado. In the party were many
women and children. They made their first camp in California on October 25,
1849. The Brown family consisted of the father and mother and six children. The
editor uses Mr. Brown's own language in following his trials and tribulations
while on the way to the Golden State. The story follows: 

    "Our train consisted of about 110 wagons, mostly new, all covered with heavy
white canvas, forming a line about two miles in length, and making quite a
display. There were some horses and mule teams, having four animals on each
wagon, the ox teams having from two to four yoke of oxen, with one exception. An
old Scotch sea captain and his two sons had one yoke of oxen and a mare on their
team. Their oxen, not being well broken, lay down, and in getting up turned the
yoke, which brought the near ox on the off side and the yoke underneath, instead
of on top of their necks. The mare became tangled in the harness and began
kicking furiously. The boys had never before experienced anything like this, and
calling their father, explained in their way that the 'larbert' ox was on the
'starbert' side and the 'starbert' ox was on the 'larbert' side, and the mare
foul in the rigging, and all going to hell together. Having had no further
trouble, we reached the Platte River, followed it a number of days, and crossed
it back and forth. Large herds of buffalo could be seen at any time. They seemed
to care little for us. On one occasion a herd ran through our train, stampeding
some of our cattle and creating some little excitement, especially among the
women and children. However, little damage was done. Usually we traveled from
fifteen to twenty miles a day, one or two men going ahead to secure suitable
camping grounds, where water and grass could be had. In camping at nights, our
wagons would be brought around in a circle, one behind the other, making a large
yard where the cattle were yoked and hitched each morning. 

    "Our party soon became dissatisfied, some anxious to make better time, while
others declared their teams could not stand longer drives. The following night
two separate camps were made, and all in favor of faster driving camped
together. The following morning the train divided up, about one-half going
ahead. My father, John Kupser (father of Bayard Kupser, who lived near the Seven
Mile House in this county until his death recently), and the Burris and Cordell
families decided to stay with the party behind. This reduced our train to about
forty-five wagons. The cattle were beginning to wear out, and, being
sore-footed, travel was slow. 

    "We reached Green River, a beautiful stream rising in western Wyoming and
flowing south through Utah. On the way we found notices to the trains behind
warning them against Indians. Cattle that gave out had to be left behind with
the wagons and most of their contents; and almost every day we would pass
cattle, from twenty to thirty in number, left by parties ahead of us, which were
unable to go farther. Some of our party exchanged their wagons for lighter ones,
as many of the wagons left behind formerly belonged to the train that had left
us and gone ahead. 

    "In November, we reached Humboldt River, in the State of Nevada, followed it
down perhaps 150 miles or more, passing what are now thriving mining camps and
railroad towns, namely, Elko, Carlin, Battle Mountain, Golconda, Winnemucca and
others. Two days before reaching Battle Mountain, the Indians attacked the train
ahead of us, driving off a number of their best cattle, beside killing three of
the party and wounding a number of others. Eighteen or twenty Indians were
killed in the battle, which lasted two or three hours. Had the immigrants not
been protected by their wagons, they undoubtedly would have been murdered. The
three men killed were buried side by side, with their names on their headstones
and the words: 'Killed by Indians September 10, 1849.' The dead Indians were
taken away by their tribe. Arrows almost hid the ground where the battle took
place. Not having any use for these, we passed them by as fast as possible,
moving on until almost dark, and then we put a double guard on our cattle. 

    "After following the river for a number of days, we came to what was called
the 'Lassen Meadows,' where we found notices to emigrants to take the Lassen
Cut, a very dim road, or trail, turning directly west, as the nearest and best
road to California. There being an abundance of feed and water here, we stopped
for a day to rest our cattle. The following morning our party divided again,
some following down the Humboldt River to the Sink and across the desert known
as the 'Hennis Pass Route.' Father, with a number of others, including the
Kupser and Cordell families, took the Lassen Cut-off. The Burris family, which
later settled at Browns Valley in Yuba County, recently had had a son added to
the family. They started off on the Cut-off, but after driving a few miles
wisely turned back to the Hennis Pass. The road was very difficult and dangerous
to travel. In a number of places, our wagons had to be let down by ropes into
canyons, requiring three or four teams to draw them out on the opposite banks.
About day-break one morning, Indians, thirty or forty in number, attacked the
men on guard and tried to drive off some of our cattle, but failed in their
attempt. Being fired upon from different points by the men on guard, they left
for the hills. Three Indians were seen to fall from their horses, and
undoubtedly a number of others were wounded. One of the guards was slightly hurt
by arrows. The cattle were then brought to camp, and without waiting for
breakfast we took to the road. Here another of the men had to leave his wagon,
having only three cattle able to go further. These three oxen were put on the
next weaker team and his outfit taken along. 

    "Our provisions, as well as our teams, were giving out, and the weather
looking as though winter would soon overtake us. Everything was unfavorable and
discouraging. Our only hope was to move ahead, which we did. Indian campfires
could be seen at night. With the knowledge of our previous trouble, we did not
know at what hour we might be attacked, and this added to the suffering of our
little party. There were now but six families, perhaps twenty-five or thirty
able men in all. They could make but a very feeble resistance against 300 or 400
Indians if we were attacked, as we fully expected retaliation for the killing of
the three or four Indians who had attempted to drive off the cattle previously
mentioned. However, we moved along steadily and finally reached the summit of
the Sierra Nevadas. Father was appointed to go ahead and look over the road and
pick a camping ground. He reported that night that we had reached the summit of
the Sierra Nevada Mountains and the valley could be seen below. These were the
first words of encouragement we had had since leaving our homes in Iowa. 

    "After we had passed over the summit and were going down grade, we made much
better time. We reached Pitt River, the headwaters of the Sacramento River; and
following it down, we came to the Lassen Ranch, where we found a party that had
gotten in a few days ahead of us and had driven their cattle toward the hills
for feed. While guarding their cattle, they saw another large band of cattle,
with two Indians herding them, and they recognized some of them as cattle that
had been taken at the Battle Mountain encounter, but said nothing. One Indian,
who spoke a few words of English, said that Lassen had bought the cattle. The
Lassen Cut-off was at least 130 miles or more out of our way, and a worse road
could not be found in the Sierra Nevadas. Our party went to the ranch to buy
flour, but was refused by the man in charge; but each man helped himself to some
wheat and went to our camp. The party ahead of us had just killed a fat calf
belonging to Lassen; and dividing with us, we all feasted on cracked wheat, veal
and acorns, at Lassen's expense. 

    "Early the next morning found us on the road again. It had rained during the
night, leaving the road very heavy. We traveled a number of days before we got
in sight of Table Mountain. Here we found a notice to emigrants directing them
to different mining camps, giving the name and distance to each camp, signed
"Bidwell," Morris Ravine being the nearest. After a long talk, my father decided
to try that, the others deciding to go on, saying that it was another Lassen
Cut-off fake. However, father ordered me to turn and follow him, which I had
trouble in doing, as our team had been used to following in line and refused to
obey. However, being an expert with the whip, I brought them around, following
father along the base of the Table Mountain, where we made our first camp in
California, October 25, 1849. 

    "After arranging our camp, the following morning father walked down to the
Feather River and to the Morris Ravine, where he found a few miners at work.
After talking with them and seeing them wash out a few pans of dirt, he returned
to the camp, which was three or four miles distant. Next morning he took his
pan, shovel and pick, located a claim, and commenced his first day's work in
California. He would work until late, lay the gold taken from each pan of dirt
on a flat rock, and at night take it to camp in his pan, having, he thought,
about two ounces of gold, or about thirty dollars, for his day's work. He
continued walking back and forth for several days, rain or shine. One very
stormy day, a stranger on horseback came to our camp, driving two oxen. He
talked with my mother and told of the different mining camps and advised us to
move our camp down the river. He left the two steers with my brother George and
myself, saying that if he came back for them within a few days he would pay us
for our trouble in looking after them, but if not, we could keep them. He said
that we could ride or lead them like horses. He gave his name as Bidwell. 

    "Father, acting on Bidwell's advice, decided to move our camp to the river.
We gathered our steers and packed them with bedding and clothing. Father took
the lead with a load on his back, and my brother George and I took charge of the
steers, while mother and my oldest sister handled the three younger children. We
reached the river with little trouble. Some of the miners came and assisted us
in arranging our camp. The next day we made two trips to our wagon, taking all
of our plunder and part of the wagon bed, from which father made a rocker and
furniture. Here we spent the winter of 1849. 

    "Provisions at that time were not to be had. We, like the others, lived
mostly on game, of which there was an abundance of all kinds. However, after a
few days, a pack train of eight or ten mules came in with provisions, mostly
flour and beans, and some bacon. Flour sold at that time for $1.50 per pound;
other things in proportion. Soon another and larger train came in with a general
assortment of provisions, dry goods, etc. Flour then took a drop to $1 a pound.
Mother bought a pint jar of pickles and two sweet potatoes for $11; a paper of
needles and two spools of thread, $7.50; three pairs of shoes, $10 and $14 per
pair; rubber boots ran $28 and $30 a pair. 

    "We worked every day but Sunday. Father would dig and carry dirt to the
river in a sack while I handled the rocker, often making as high as $100 or $150
per day; but this did not last long. We remained here until the spring of 1850,
when we moved up the south fork of the Feather River, where father, with twelve
or fifteen others, undertook to flume and turn the river, with the idea of
getting rich quick, but after working all summer and spending their money, the
water came up and swept away in a night what had taken them all summer to
accomplish. 

    "Our next move was to a new camp (afterwards named Forbestown), with the
late James Forbes. This camp proved to be very lively. Forbes entered into the
mercantile business. Father kept public house later, but mining was his
principal occupation. Soon there were a number of saloons, each having two or
more gambling tables. The principal games then were monte, faro and roulette.
Thousands of dollars exchanged hands every night. Stacks of gold coin and sacks
of gold dust were on the tables. There was what was then called a 'slug,'
containing $50, with other smaller coins. 

    "There were a few older settlers of Forbestown besides Forbes, one M.
McMurtry of North Butte, Ed Bogardus, and M. Gaskell, butchers; three Turpire
brothers, Dolph and Ed Moses, teamsters; and John Snell, expressman, besides the
noted gambler, V. Hitchcock, from the 'Sunny South,' where 'they shoot, cut, and
drink whiskey,' this being his usual expression when drunk. At his table he
usually had from $5000 to $10,000 in coin and dust, 
with his loaded revolver always at hand. 

    "The miners usually left the gold in the pans in front of their camps to
dry, unmolested; but on one occasion a stranger came to town, and seeing things
lying around, decided to help himself, which he did by entering a camp and
taking clothing, a gold watch, and $40 or $50 in gold. He was found with most of
the plunder on him, was taken to a tree, his shirt stripped off, and he was tied
with his arms around the tree. He was given twenty-five lashes with a rawhide,
and ordered to leave town, which he did. 

    "We remained in Forbestown until the fall of 1852, when we moved to Sutter
County and located a few miles below Captain Sutter's place, now Hock Farm.
Father, after getting our house well under way and leaving men to finish it,
returned to the mine in Forbestown. Our nearest neighbors were Mr. and Mrs.
Bader, who kept the public house and sold liquor. It will be remembered that
Mrs. Bader was murdered by a man named Jackson, and thrown into the slough where
she usually did her washing. Jackson had come there the evening before. The
following morning, Bader rode up to Captain Sutter's place of business, leaving
Jackson with Mrs. Bader. During his absence, Jackson shot and killed Mrs. Bader,
and, after secreting her body in the slough, went through the house in search of
money they were supposed to have. On Bader's return, Jackson met him at the door
and fired two shots at him, neither taking effect. Bader ran down to our house,
inquired for his wife and told what had happened, and, after getting together a
few of the nearest neighbors, returned to his house. Jackson had taken Bader's
horse, and rode toward Yuba City. A party followed him and found him about four
miles below Yuba City, asleep, with his horse tied near by. He was taken back.
In the meantime, a number of people had heard of the murder and collected.
Jackson was given a trial and sentenced to be hanged the following evening. Some
of the jurors were Captain Allender, Stephen Shores, Ed Tobin, Captain Sutter,
Jr., Jim Humphreys, and others, with Judge Lynch presiding. He was taken to a
near-by tree and hanged. The news had reached Yuba City by this time, and a
number came down, including the sheriff and other officers, but they were too
late. There was quite a discussion among them over the hasty proceedings, but
nothing was done. Jackson was allowed to hang there until about dark, when he
was taken down and buried near the same spot, with his boots on. This all took
place the same day. Mrs. Bader's body was found in the slough, was taken to her
house and prepared for burial by my mother, sister, and Mrs. Brighton, a
neighbor, and was buried at Captain Sutter's place. 

    "We remained there until the winter of 1852, when the first flood that came
took away our house and most of its contents. The first warning we had of water
was hearing the pans and kettles floating about in the house. We were soon up
and hastily dressed with whatever we could find. With the wind blowing a gale
and the water two feet deep in the house, we started for a high knoll about 300
or 400 yards away, where we remained until daybreak, when we were rescued by
parties camped near and taken to Mrs. Brighton's, on high ground. As she had a
large family, it was an easy matter for us to get dry clothing. When father
heard of the high water in the valley, he came down and removed to Yuba City,
then a lively camp with one or two grocery stores, two saloons, and some
business houses. There were two ferries, one about where the bridge now is,
known as Hanson Ferry, and handled by one John Frank; the other was a ferry
about half a mile above, known as Webb Ferry. The latter was of short duration.
The road or street to Marysville, now Fifth Street, was then much the same as
Third Street is to the boat landing. 

    "The second flood, which came in 1853, covered the whole country almost to
the Buttes. Marysville was in water two to four feet deep; Yuba City the same,
with one exception, the Indian mound, where fifty or seventy-five Digger Indians
were camped near where the Dr. J. H. Barr residence now is. Houses and stacks of
hay, with pigs and poultry on top, went down the river, greatly interfering with
the ferry ropes. Marysville could be reached only by rowboats, one of which I
handled. The fare from Yuba City to Marysville and return was $1. The water soon
went down, leaving the roads and streets in bad condition. 

    "Marysville was then perhaps the best business town on the Coast. Ten or
fifteen large teams would go out almost daily, loaded with supplies for the
mines, besides a number of stages with four to six horses, many of them only
partly broken, carrying passengers. Mail and express went to all points in the
mountains where such conveyances could reach. There were also a number of pack
trains having fifteen to twenty, or more, mules, loaded with supplies, that went
to the mines higher up, where wagons could not reach. One of the first pack
trains from Marysville was run by the late J. Bustillos of La Porte. Most of the
freight then came to Marysville by water, there being five or six boats making
regular trips. There was one large-sized wheel boat called the Comanche, besides
the Urilda, J. Bragdon, and the Governor Dana. The last two boats alternated,
making trips to Hammontown and Oroville, the latter a lively mining town, where
a number of freight teams and pack trains left daily. The boat-landing, or
wharf, was near and below where the W. T. Ellis grocery was operated for years.
The Merchants' Hotel, then operated by John C. Fall, one of the leading
merchants in Marysville, was doing a wholesale business mostly; but he finally
became involved and broke up, losing his $50,000 residence on G and Seventh
Streets, now owned by Richard Belcher, Marysville attorney. 

    "Marysville had its first State Fair in 1853, same being well attended. Many
of the older settlers were there with their stock and other exhibits. Among
these settlers were Captain Sutter, Major Bidwell, Charles Covillaud, father of
the late Charles Covillaud, Peter Lassen, and others; but the most conspicuous
person there was Kit Carson. He could be known by his dress, as he wore a
buckskin suit with red stripes and tassels down the back, Panama hat and red
sash. He carried with him a general assortment of Indian reiics, bows and
arrows, beads, moccasins, and many other curiosities, besides two Indian scalps,
which he claimed were taken from an Apache chief and warrior in a battle. 

    "We remained in Yuba City until the fall of 1854, when we made another move
to West Butte, locating two miles above where the West Butte store now is, and
adjoining the property of the late Squire Hamlin, for whom I later went to work,
remaining with him for a number of years. My principal work was riding after
stock, which he dealt in. W. H. Parks and Frank Parks, the latter the father of
the late William H. Parks of the Decker & Jewett Company, bankers, had a large
number of cattle, which I also looked after. Their cattle at times ranged as far
north as Chico in Butte County, and above, which was then a small place. 

    "At that time the Indians frequently made raids through and around Chico,
driving off the stock and murdering whenever an opportunity presented itself.
The Heacock family will still be remembered. They were living above Chico, when
one day three of the family and a man named Thomas Allen, a teamster, were
murdered. With Allen was an Indian boy, raised by M. Keefer, who saw the Indians
coming down towards them. Realizing their intention, he ran to the Heacock
house, telling of the coming of the Indians. He insisted that Mrs. Heacock go to
the Sadorus house; but she refused, saying that her two girls and boy were
gathering blackberries on the creek, and she would wait until they returned. The
Indian boy then took her baby and ran toward the Sadorus place, calling her to
come. Finally she followed, and when they reached the house, the boy reported
seeing the Indians. Owing to Sadorus not being home, nothing could be done. On
his return, however, he was told by the boy that the Indians were going toward
Mr. Allen's, who was then attaching his team to his loaded wagon. Sadorus did
not dare to leave his family, which consisted of his wife and three daughters,
Mrs. M. J. Bryden and Mrs. Joseph Brown (still residents of Marysville) and Mrs.
J. P. Cope of Central House, Butte City, and two sons, John and Charles Sadorus,
now of Illinois. After sending a man to warn the neighbors along the creek, he
sent to Chico for help. A party was quickly formed and started. They found Allen
lying near his team, shot to death with arrows. After caring for him, further
search was abandoned 
for the night. The following morning, a larger party started in search of the
two girls, and the boy. Late in the day the two girls were found dead, their
clothing stripped from their bodies, which were pierced with arrows. From one of
the girls, thirty-two arrows were taken. There were two deep gashes in the face
of this girl, one under each eye. These girls were fourteen and sixteen years of
age. The girls' remains were taken to the home of the Sadorus family, where
their mother was waiting for them. Their father, who was then in the mountains,
was sent for, and arrived in time to attend the funeral, which was held in
Chico. Further search for the boy, with an additional force of men, was made for
a number of days, but without success, as the Indians were alert, wore
moccasins, and left no tracks by which the men in search could follow. However,
at the end of eight or ten days, and perhaps seventy-five or eighty miles from
the scene of the murder, they came to where the Indians had camped and had a war
dance over their victim. The boy had been forced to walk the entire distance.
When found, he had a rope around his neck and was tied to a stake. He had not
been shot, but was tortured to death by degrees in a most cruel manner. His
remains were taken back and buried beside his sisters, without his mother seeing
them, as they were so badly decomposed and otherwise mangled and bruised. 

    "I remained with Squire Hamlin until the year of the silver excitement in
Nevada State in 1862, when the Squire decided to go to Nevada and locate a stock
range and perhaps a silver mine. He had lost very heavily in cattle during the
winter and spring just passed, when thousands of cattle along the river were
drowned and those in the Buttes and on higher ground died from lack of food. The
Squire purchased a large wagon, loading it mostly with provisions, and with four
yoke of cattle started for Nevada, taking along about 100 head of stock. Travel
was rather slow, as we had considerable trouble with the stock. We had reached
Dogtown on the Honey Lake route, when the Squire met with an accident from which
he never fully recovered, causing us to lay off for a few days. He grew worse
daily, and after one teamster and two other men left him, he decided to return
home, selling the whole outfit and stock to a Mr. Miller, of Humbug Valley. I
then took the Squire to Dogtown, where he took the stage for Marysville. I took
the saddle-horse back to West Butte. Having only two of my own, I bought two
more and with a light wagon made the trip alone, going to Virginia City and
across the desert to the Sink of the Humboldt River, where I found a man named
James Emery camping. He was going to a new camp called Trinity District, near
where is now the Rochester Mine. We camped together and spent the first month in
prospecting. As Emery was an old prospector, I depended a great deal on him. We
found two or three ledges that we considered good, which we located, naming one
the West Butte. There was only one mine working, and turning out some good ore.
However, for lack of machinery, it could not be worked properly. In the camp
were two families, Mr. Lovelock and family, and Mrs. Ellis. Indians were then
committing murders almost daily. There were three or four Indians around the
different camps who were supposed to be peaceable. They were supplied with food
and clothing, even with powder and caps, as they had guns. 

    "Emery and myself decided to move to Unionville, then a gold mining camp,
with a number of mines at work. However, before leaving we thought it best to do
some work on the ledges we had discovered, and set the following day to go; but
as Emery met with a slight accident, he was unable to go. A friend of his, Frank
Gregg, was anxious to go along, so the following morning we were ready to start,
when a man named Joe Bartlett, better known as 'Black Rock Joe,' an old Indian
fighter, advised us to take a gun along. He gave us a Henry rifle with sixteen
cartridges in it and a belt with twenty or thirty more cartridges, which we took
along. 

    "They had noticed our pet Indians, as we usually called them, were missing;
but this was nothing unusual. As it was only three or four miles to the first
ledge, we soon reached it, commenced work, and were about ready to move to the
next claim, when three shots were fired almost at once. 
I saw Frank stoop over and rise again, and asked him if he were hit, and he said
he was. I ran for the rifle, which lay a few steps away, and moved up a few
steps, and could see where the Indians were trying to reload their rifles. I
fired two or three shots among them. When they arose and started to run over a
short rise, I fired at the last one, and when they came in sight again there was
one Indian missing. Knowing what had happened, I directed my firing at the next
one behind. After two or three shots, he lagged behind. The one in the lead came
back to assist him, but could not raise him, and left. He was then 250 or 300
yards away, but in plain sight. I fired three or four shots at him, and could
see one arm hanging at his side, and knew he was badly wounded. 

    "Running back to where Frank lay, and examining his wound, I could see that
he was fatally shot. Something had to be done and done quickly, as we did not
know what minute we might be attacked by other Indians that might have heard our
shooting. After consulting with one another, we decided that I should go to the
camp for help. Gathering some sagebrush and making a temporary shed over him, I
started for camp and had gone perhaps a half a mile, when I saw four or five, as
I supposed, Indians coming directly toward me from the camp. I secreted myself,
replacing all my empty shells with loaded ones, and determined not to let a
single Indian pass me. (I have just begun to realize how little I knew about
Indians.) The supposed Indians soon came in sight again. I then realized they
were white men, which was a great relief to me. I soon met them and told them
what had happened. They had heard the report of our guns, and knew we were in
trouble. Black Rock Joe was with them. He had borrowed a rifle, for I had his.
He remarked: 'That is you fellows' pet Indian that you have been feeding and
furnishing ammunition.' I took one man back to camp with me, after showing the
others about where Frank was. We made a stretcher with sacks and two poles to
take Frank back to camp. While I was gone, Black Rock Joe thought he would see
if the first Indian that fell was still there. He walked carefully around where
he could see the Indian lying, his gun a few feet from him. He was still alive.
Black Rock Joe recognized him as 'Billy,' one of the Indians that we had been
feeding and clothing. While examining the Indian's wound, his rifle was
discharged, the bullet passing through Billy's head, accidentally, I suppose.
Billy was buried, but the men did not look after the other Indian. We returned
with our temporary stretcher, to take Mr. Gregg to Mr. Lovelock's place, where
he had formerly worked. After two days' suffering, he died. 

    "A number had already left the camp and others were afraid to stay. Mr.
Emery was now able to be around; so we decided to move to Unionville, then a
lively town of about 600 or 700 inhabitants, and a number of mines at work. John
C. Fall, a former Marysville merchant, was there and in the same business. Being
interested in a number of mines, he employed me to take charge of one called the
'Gem,' about eighteen miles north of Unionville, where Emery and myself worked
for about two years. The mine, then in litigation, was closed down. Emery and
myself decided to return to Trinity District and do some work on our claims
there. Before reaching our destination, we met a party of four men, who were
planning to go on a ten- or fifteen-day prospecting trip; and among them was our
old friend, Black Rock Joe, who was anxious to have us go along. They were all
armed with Henry rifles. Emery was anxious to go. He took along the only shotgun
he had. I had always kept it loaded with twelve buckshot in each barrel, which
he fired off, reloading it. It was understood among us that any discovery or
location made by them was to be shared equally with me. The following morning
they started on their trip, and I went back to Unionville for another outfit and
a man to do our work in the Trinity District. Emery had taken our outfit with him. 

    "The second day out, they camped on what is known as Willow Creek, eighteen
miles west from the Humboldt River. At daybreak the next morning, while some of
them were still in their beds, they were attacked by Indians, fifty to
seventy-five in number. Mr. Arnold, being the first to arise, was looking after
their horses, which were staked near by, when he was shot and disabled. The
others in the party were soon out of their beds and ready for action, they
having the advantage of the Indians by being partly protected by the willows.
The Indians on horseback would circle around them, firing at them mostly with
arrows, but some had rifles. After discharging them, they would fall back out of
sight, reload their rifles, and make another attack. With Arnold wounded in the
first attack, they were left with but four men to contend with perhaps
seventy-five Indians. The Indians made another attack, getting very close and
firing from their horses on the run. Three or four were shot within a few steps
from the camp. Emery was fatally shot while reloading his gun after killing one
Indian and wounding another. The Indians left for the hills after about ten or
twelve of their tribe were either killed or wounded. After attending to the two
wounded men, Bartlett, following his usual habit of taking an Indian's scalp
whenever an opportunity offered, took six scalps. He could have taken more, but
did not molest those who were still alive. They recovered three of their horses;
one was taken by the Indians. 

    "The wounded men were placed on the wagons and returned to Mill City on
Humboldt River, then owned by the Thacker Brothers. John Thacker was later a
detective for the Wells Fargo Company. Emery died the following day. The news
was soon spread to the different mining camps. Two others and myself went to
Mill City, getting there in time to assist in the burying of Emery. Arnold was
taken to Unionville for treatment, and soon recovered. Emery was buried near
where two others killed by Indians were buried. One, a minister named John
Kellogg, formerly of Yuba City, was killed near Granite Springs. His body was
cut in many pieces and hung on sagebrush along the road. His remains were found
and brought in Mill City by the Spence brothers, teamsters, well known in Butte
County. Mill City is situated on the Humboldt River and was formerly known as
Humboldt Meadows, or Lassen Meadows, where many immigrants to California were
led perhaps 150 miles out of their way by the Peter Lassen Cut-off. 

    "Our prospecting trip was abandoned, and a party of about one hundred
determined to go in pursuit of the Indians, who were committing devastations.
John Bryden, brother of the late James Bryden, of Honcut, acted as our leader,
taking along two Indians as guides. The Indians we were in pursuit of were of
the Shoshone tribe, then at war with the Piutes, each tribe claiming the other
was trespassing on its hunting grounds. We followed them a number of days and
finally reached their camp, where there were twenty or thirty women and
children, with five or six young bucks, who tried to escape, but were shot down.
The able-bodied men and warriors had left camp the evening before. For several
days we followed them, but were invariably a day behind, as the Indians had the
advantage of us in knowing the country. As our supplies were getting short, we
decided to return. 

    "To illustrate the really brutal and murderous disposition of an Indian. I
will relate an incident I saw. While at their camp gathering up the women and
children, who were scattered and in hiding, one of our Indian guides, seeing a
child near by, rode up to it, took it by the hair, raised it into his saddle,
and then took it by one leg and dashed its head against a stone, killing it
instantly. This was reported to Mr. Bryden, our captain, who reprimanded the
Indian severely. The women were taken to Unionville and held as prisoners, but
were soon released. 

    "I then branched out into the cattle business. Purchasing a small band, I
remained with them, occasionally working in the mines, until the year the
Central Pacific Railroad came through in 1869, when myself and A. M. Sadorus
engaged in the butchering business, furnishing beef for the graders and
construction camps. It was not long before the first cars came through, and we
shipped our beef by cars until the camps got too far ahead. We then opened a
shop in Battle Mountain, where we built the first frame or lumber house. It was
then a lively railroad town of tents. We remained in the butchering business
until the year 1872, when we sold our shop and business and went back into the
cattle and sheep business. We then made Golconda, on the Central Pacific
Railroad, our headquarters. Having different camps, our cattle ranged in Clover
Valley and Kelly Creek, while our sheep were kept mostly in Edin and Paradise
Valley. Paradise Valley and Clover Valley are now two of the most highly
cultivated valleys in Nevada, running parallel with and lying on the west side
of Humboldt River, extending north. In Clover Valley, many thousands of tons of
alfalfa are put up yearly, fed mostly to stock, and dairying is carried on
extensively. 

    "We continued in the cattle and sheep business until the fall of 1880, when
we closed out our entire business in Nevada. My family and I then returned to
Yuba County, where I purchased what was then known as the Fort Hawley place (now
known as Olive Hill), with its entire flock of sheep. We remained here until the
fall of 1888, when I disposed of my place, consisting of 980 acres of land, to
Messrs. H. Juch, Ehmann and Allen, founders of Olive Hill colony. I then
returned to my old home in Marysville, after an absence of eighteen years in
Nevada State. 

    "Mr. Sadorus returned from Nevada to his home farm in Champagne County,
Ill., in 1882, where he remained until called by death, October 13, 1915. He had
crossed the plains to California in 1849 by ox team over the extreme southern
route, landing in San Diego in the late fall of 1849, where they remained about
two years, then moving to Butte County, and locating on Rock Creek, above Chico.
During their stay in San Diego, a daughter was born to them, November 26, 1850,
now Mrs. Joseph Brown, of H Street, in Marysville. 

    "Among the earliest settlers in Marysville, were Capt. John Sutter, who
arrived in 1839; Gen. John Bidwell, 1841; L. W. Hastings of Colusa. F. B.
Redding of Shasta, and Peter Lassen, 1844; Fremont and Kit Carson, in 1845;
Townsend, and Murphy and the Covillauds of the Donner party, in 1846. Mr. W. G.
Murphy became a well-known attorney in Marysville. In spite of the wild and
uncivilized nature of the country in the earlv days, there were many good men
among the settlers. Many acts of kindness were shown our family in different
ways, which were appreciated and never forgotten by my mother and sister.
Captain Sutter was one of the most liberal and hospitable of men. It was through
his kindness and hospitality that he became heavily involved. He lost his lands,
together with his vast herds of stock, and was left with only his home place,
Hock Farm, which was later taken from him. Leaving Hock Farm, he returned to
Pennsylvania, his former home, dying in Washington. D. C. January 19, 1888. 

    "These are my recollections of the 'days of '49.' They were indeed wonderful
days. And if my story in any way enables you to appreciate them, the telling has
been worth while." 

    The story of Joseph Brown's hardships is typical of the life and adventures
of many another "forty-niner," and for that reason, as well as for its own
romantic interest and fascination, is regarded by the compiler as worthy of
permanent record in full, in the history of the early pioneer days. 


Additional Comments:


Extracted from:

HISTORY OF YUBA and SUTTER COUNTIES 
CALIFORNIA 
WITH 
Biographical Sketches OF 
The Leading Men and Women of the Counties Who Have Been Identified with Their
Growth and Development from the Early Days to the Present 

HISTORY BY 
PETER J. DELAY 

ILLUSTRATED 
COMPLETE IN ONE VOLUME 

HISTORIC RECORD COMPANY 
LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA
1924


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