"We took no great mount of stock in the Mexicans in 1849, I can assure you," said Judge T, as he seated himself to comply with my request to tell me a story of early days in the California gold placers. "They were a thieving, cunning, bloodthirsty set of gamblers and cutthroats. An honest man was an exception among them. And they did not like us. We had just whipped them, taken California from them, found it full of gold, and were filling it up with an enterprising, intelligent population. We suffered immensely from their depredations. Every good piece of horse-flesh we brought into the country was sooner or later stolen by them, and seldom, if ever, restored to us. They would rifle our flumes, and had a knack of appropriating our property which seemed to elude all our means of detection. Occasionally, some of our companions would disappear very suddenly. We knew that they had been secretly stabbed or shot by some of these 'Greasers,' but it was the merest chance that ever led to any discovery. Of course, whenever our suspicions lighted upon one of them, it generally went hard with him. He was fortunate to escape with his life, to say nothing of the marks which sundry whippings, and chokings, and croppings had indelibly inflicted upon his carcass. As I look back to those days now, I think we sometimes made mistakes; but then, the aggravation was very great, and if both sides could be summed up I don't think that it would be much more than an even thing between us. There was no law but such as we made. Every man carried his life in his hand, and I believe that we did, all things considered, the best that could be done.
"The Mexicans excelled us in mining. They had learned the signs before they came here. We had them all to learn. They were making new and valuable discoveries daily; if we made any it was by accident. They would start out under cover of the night, and the next morning, perhaps, be in possession of an inexhaustible placer. We would sometimes try the same game, and be most provokingly humbugged. This was so often the case that we gradually lost all faith in our gold-seeking sagacity. But we had come to California to find it, and were determined not to be thwarted, so we watched and followed the Mexicans. They were very close, and we had to resort to a great many devices to keep ourselves informed of their movements.
"San Andreas was originally a Mexican camp. It sprang up like a mushroom, in a single night. There were thousands of Mexicans and Americans in it in less than two weeks after its discovery. I was with a company at work upon a gulch near there, but it did not pan out to suit us. We were waiting, Micawber-like, for something to turn up. It was early in the winter of 1851-52. One of our men came into the camp late in the afternoon with the information that a party of Mexicans were to leave San Andreas at a late hour that night, to go to a new placer which had just been discovered, and reported to be very rich. Now was our time. If we could follow them without being discovered, we could secure claims for ourselves. We had been told that David Latimer, better known as 'Dad,' was going with the Mexicans, and would furnish them with some horses and provisions.
"After a brief consultation, it was agreed that nine of us should go to San Andreas after dark, and station ourselves without the town, on different sides of it, to watch the departure of the Mexicans, and those of us who happened to be on the side where they left should follow them quietly to their place of destination. It was quite dark when we separated, Captain Jim Box, John Harris, and Charley Bray to go to the north side of the town; Captain Gilson and myself to the south side; Ned Morgan and Herbert Ide to the east side; and Frank Forest and Joe Abbott to the west side. The hours of watching were very long. The night stole on into the 'wee sma' hours,' and we began to think we had been hoaxed. Some of our number were only restrained from returning to camp by the consideration that they might thus lose a better opportunity to win their stake than would ever again offer. Just as Box and his companions were on the point of giving up, at two o'clock past in the morning, along came the Mexicans near where they were seated. There were twenty-five or thirty of them. They moved along as noiselessly as possible, with Box and his friends as noiselessly in pursuit. After they had travelled in this manner some three or four miles, the Mexicans became hilarious, and indulged in loud conversation, shouting, and singing. It was starlight, and our friends were careful to keep far enough in the rear to avoid observation. Suddenly they heard voices behind them, announcing the rapid approach of another party. With all convenient speed they concealed themselves by the side of the road until it passed. Two of the Mexicans, while passing the spot where Box was hidden, was overheard by him to hold the following conversation in Spanish: -
"'If they discover us, we must kill the first man that comes into camp.'
"'Yes,' replied the other, 'but they can kill too.'
"'I know, but we have commenced the game already.'
"'What do you mean'?'
"'We've put one of the cursed Gringos [Americans] out of the way.'
"'What Gringo?'
"'I don't know more than that he was a captain at the battle of Monterey.'
"'What have you done with him?'
"'He lies buried in a tent in San Andreas.'
"'Do you hear that, boys?' whispered Box to his companions,-'they've been killing one of our men.'
"Ben Osborne, a favorite of all our boys, had been missing for several months. He had been a soldier in the Mexican war, was a great braggart, a free drinker, and remarkably fond of women. He had a habit of fighting his battles over when in his cups, and nothing afforded him more pleasure at such times than to relate within hearing of the Mexicans his feats of valor at Monterey. The dark scowls and sinister glances with which they would listen to him, afforded him great delight. He had a way of illustrating his prowess by gesticulations and grimaces that were particularly offensive to them. His friends used to warn him of the consequences of his ill-timed mirth, but Ben would laugh at their fears, and improve the next opportunity that offered for repeating it. He had done it on so many occasions that, among the Mexicans, he was known and designated only as the 'Captain in the battle of Monterey.'
"There was in San Andreas a fonda or restaurant kept by a Chilano man and woman. They prepared a dish composed of red pepper and beef, called chili con carney, of which Ben was very fond. The sparkling black eyes and beautiful form of the hostess had for him a peculiar fascination. He used to spend many of his evenings at this fonda, flirting with its mistress, playing monte, drinking, and feasting upon chili con carney. He went there one evening early in December, 1850, and was never afterwards seen alive. It was known that he had upon his person three hundred dollars or more in gold dust. Diligent search was made for him by his friends, who suspected he had been roughly dealt with, but he could not be found. Their conjectures concerning him were unsupported by proof, and poor Ben was nearly forgotten when the conversation was overheard, disclosing the fact that he had been murdered.
"Our boys forgot their desire to find a gold placer in the paramount wish which instantly possessed them to discover the murderers of their old comrade. They made careful observation of the outfit belonging to the two Mexicans whose conversation had revealed the crime. One of them led a pack-horse which they recognized as Dad Latimer's; the other, a black donkey. Just before daylight, the Mexicans halted in the neighborhood of McKinney's Humbug, near the source of Murray's Creek. Our boys fell back a mile or more, and hid themselves. After breakfast, Charley Bray returned to our camp with a note from Box to Talifero, informing him of the discovery they had made. Talifero and three or four others spread the intelligence through all the neighboring placers on Calaveras River, and raised a company of forty or more volunteers to go and see Box. These men, all well armed, met at Henry Shroebel's store in San Andreas, at ten o'clock at night. After consultation as to the course proper to be pursued in the investigation they were to make, they left at half-past eleven, under the guidance of Charley Bray, for Box's camp, and arrived there early the next morning. Among the number whom I well remember, were Knapp, Broughton, Talifero, Captain Gilson, John Morrison, Ned Morgan, Herbert Ide, and Joe Abbott.
"It was arranged that Talifero, Box and Harris should visit the Mexican camp, and the remainder of the company await from a hill overlooking it, the firing of a gun as a signal to join them. Five or six Mexicans were engaged in cooking and preparing breakfast, and the others were just emerging from their blankets, when our three boys made their appearance. They soon recognized several old acquaintances, to whose inquiries as to their business, they replied that they were prospecting. There were seemingly two parties of Mexicans, camped about two hundred yards apart. After a careful scrutiny of the men, Box came upon one whom he thought he could identify as the chief speaker in the midnight conversation. He stepped aside, and under the pretence of killing a bird for breakfast, fired his gun. A moment afterwards, thirty-eight armed men were seen rapidly descending a steep declivity into the camp. An expression of mingled surprise and fear sat on every Mexican face, upturned to witness the approach of the little company, as it defiled around and enclosed the camp with a regular picket-guard.
"'It is my duty,' said Talifero, addressing the astonished groups, 'to inform you that you are all under arrest. A great crime has been committed. We are in pursuit of the perpetrators of it, and have satisfactory reasons for believing they are in this camp.'
"For a moment the silence succeeding this charge was deathlike. The men exchanged terrified glances, and seemed to know not how to reply. At length one after another began to protest his innocence, and as, next to murder, horse-stealing was in those days deemed the greatest of crimes, and was the one for which the Mexicans were especially noted, they severally declared their innocence of it, and claimed to be hard-working, honest miners. These proceedings at the first camp were suddenly arrested by a loud hallo from John Harris, who, while they were in progress, had visited the other party, and found Dad Latimer's horse and the black donkey. Satisfied that they had arrested the wrong party, our boys apologized, and immediately withdrew to the other camp, where the scene which had just transpired was acted over again.
"Talifero now undeceived them as to the nature of the crime. 'We have no charge against you of horse-stealing,' said he, 'but one of our comrades has been murdered, and either his murderers, or persons who know them, are in this company, and we are determined to find them and bring them to justice.' The prisoners, nine in number, were then disarmed, formed in a line, with their hands bound behind them, and under the close escort of our boys, marched off in the direction from which they came the day before. The other party of Mexicans offered their assistance, which was declined. Our object being to find both the murderers and the remains of our comrade, we had to resort to the following expedient. Arriving at the junction of three small streams in the mountains, which were separated by low, hilly ranges, we improvised a tribunal, before which the prisoners were placed in line and addressed in Spanish by Captain Gilson.
"'You are,' said he, 'very near the end of your earthly career. We have positive evidence that some of your number either killed Ben Osborne, or know who did it. He was our friend, and greatly beloved by us. One of the men now before me was overheard, at midnight, while you were on your way here, to relate to another the circumstances of his murder. He said that it took place at a restaurant in San Andreas. With the certain proof that the knowledge of our friend's murder is in your keeping, we have determined to put you all to death, with this single exception,-the man who will tell us how, when, where, and by whom he was killed, and where his remains can be found, shall escape. To this we pledge our honor.'
"Some four or five of our boys, at the commencement of these proceedings, went over the hill which separated the creek on which we were from the one next to it, to prepare a scaffold. Every movement was made with a view of impressing the others with the seriousness of our intentions.
When Gilson concluded his address, an intelligent-looking young man, apparently not more than twenty-four, was asked what he had to say in reply to the charge. His form quivered with emotion, and large tears fell from his eyes, as he gave utterance to the following remarks: -
"'Gentlemen, I am a Cuban. I was born in Havana, where my parents still reside. From the moment that I heard of the discovery of gold in California, I determined to come here in pursuit of fortune. My parents and friends opposed my wishes. They warned me of the dangers I should incur, and, among others, mentioned the very one which, it seems, is now to cost me my life. It was after long and ceaseless persuasion that I obtained their consent to come here, and it was finally given with the greatest reluctance, and accompanied by the most gloomy forebodings. When I bade by mother farewell, she hung upon my neck, protesting that if I went she would never see me more. Alas! her predictions are likely to prove too true.
"'And yet, gentlemen, upon my honor and conscience, I know nothing of this crime. It is only ten days since I came to San Andreas. Previous to that, I was a clerk for several months in Sanderson's store at Stockton. While there, I made the money which brought me here, and I came here because of the favorable reports in circulation regarding the placer.
"'I am a Spaniard, and speak only the Spanish language. The very little that I know of your tongue I have learned since I came here. Naturally, I sought for associates among those with whom I could converse, and they were Mexicans. I have been well raised -taught to fear God and live honestly, and have ever tried to do so. This is the first time I was ever accused of crime. It is hard, gentlemen, that I should suffer for the crime of another, and that my name and memory should be blackened with so infamous, so terrible a charge as that of taking the life of a fellow-man. Gentlemen, I am innocent.'
"We were convinced of the truth of this statement, but, wishing to appear unmoved by his appeal, ordered him to resume his place in the line.
"The next prisoner addressed was an old man. Among the wrinkles which time had placed, a look of calm resignation beamed forth, which seemed to say that he had no fear for the fate which was before him. Looking at us with steady, unblenching eyes, he said,-
"'I have nothing to say to you. I know nothing whatever about this murder.' Turning to his companions, he continued, 'You all know me to be an honest, hard-working man. My wife and daughter, who are very dear to me, are living at Jesus Maria, where I have been mining. If any of you escape, bear to them from me my dying blessing. Tell them I die with a clear conscience, innocent,-and only regret that I am forced to die without the rites of my church.'
"We conducted him over the hill to the scaffold, and placing him under it, asked him if he would avail himself of the opportunity to escape.
"'I cannot,' he replied, 'for I know nothing. Your treatment is cruel and if not here, you will certainly be called to account for it at the bar of God.'
"Impressed with his innocence, we sent him over the hill beyond, with the assurance that no harm should come to him. Two others were disposed of in the same manner. Our next prisoner, a keen-eyed young fellow of about twenty-five, evinced so much indifference that we removed him to the scaffold. When placed under the rope he became greatly alarmed, and consented to tell us all he knew. He narrated to us several murders, some upon hearsay, and others that he had witnessed, told where the remains of some could be found, but made no mention of Osborne, and evidently knew nothing about him. Our inquisition of him was interrupted by the discharge of a gun. We sent him to join the others while we hurried to camp.
"As we ascended the hill, we saw one of the prisoners running at full speed across the valley towards the mountains, and several of our men in hot pursuit. Talifero, Broughton, and Gilson mounted their horses and followed, but the fellow reached a ledge of rocks inaccessible to their horses, and escaped. On returning to camp, the prisoners remaining were ordered to lie down with their faces to the earth. The young Cuban was alarmed, trembled violently, and prayed with earnest devotion for relief.
"During our absence one of the men had, with the consent of his guard, gone to an oak tree standing near, and another at the same time a similar distance in an opposite direction. The former took the chance of running for his life; the other, more closely guarded, failed of opportunity. The runaway was fired upon and slightly wounded in the shoulder. The circumstance convinced us that these were the men whose conversation first aroused our suspicions. We immediately conducted the one in custody to the gallows. He was very obstinate, said he had nothing to tell us, and drawing a large sack of gold dust from his pocket, handed to us, saying,-
"'Here, gentlemen, here is what you want. Take it and let me go.'
"'You have mistaken your men,' replied Talifero, 'we are neither robbers or highwaymen. We are in search of the murderer of our friend. We are convinced that you know all about it. Take back your gold, give us the information we seek, or it shall be buried with you.'
"John Morrison, having hold of the rope, excited by the impudence of the fellow, here observed,-
"'Boys, let's choke him a little, anyhow.'
"The rope was adjusted to his neck, and John pulled it to an uncomfortable tension.
"'Hold a minute,' said the man, uplifting his arms, 'and let me talk this matter over a while. You say you'll spare my life if I tell where the captain is buried. What assurances have I that you will protect me? You know my countrymen will kill me if possible, for making this exposure. It will be very difficult for you to shield me from their vengeance.'
"'We will use all possible precaution to prevent their ascertaining the source of our information,' replied Talifero. 'Or we will take you into our camp, or, if you wish to leave, furnish you with means and an escort for safety. Our honor is pledged to this. We only want to bring the guilty to justice.'
"'On those conditions I will tell you everything. Your friend, the captain, came into San Andreas one night the latter part of December. He had been drinking hard and was very talkative. He went to the fonda, made a great display of his gold dust, of which he had considerable, and bragged loudly of the number of Mexicans he had killed in the battle of Monterey. He seated himself at the table and called for a dish of chili con carney. While he was eating, the Chilano woman proposed to her husband that he should kill him and take his money. He refused, but she insisted. Finally, he stabbed him. Then the question arose, 'How shall we dispose of the body?' The woman said she would find a place for it. The doors of the fonda were closed and fastened. She took up a bed in the corner, and the husband and another man dug a hole under it, into which they laid the body, and covered it with dirt. The ground was levelled, the fresh dirt swept up, carried out and emptied into the gulch, and the bed replaced. By all means arrest the woman first, as she is most guilty. Go back with me. I will disguise myself and go with you into the fonda, and stand in the corner where the captain is buried.'
"As soon as this disclosure was made, we removed the rope from the neck of the man, and returned with him to camp. After preparing a good breakfast, one of our boys went after and soon came in with the men who were supposed to have been hanged, and the entire company sat down on the sward and ate heartily. When our prisoner saw that no harm had been done to those whose examination had preceded his, he manifested some token of regret at having fallen into the trap we had set, which, though quiet, did not escape our observation. Breakfast over, we apologized to the Mexicans for the harsh measures we had employed, and parted with them on the most friendly terms. We were greatly prepossessed in favor of the young Cuban, and made up for him a handsome purse, which he accepted with many expressions of gratitude.
"Soon after they left us, we started with our prisoner for San Andreas. When we arrived within two or three miles of the town, we stopped for consultation. Our prisoner said that we had misunderstood him. It was the man who had escaped who knew where the captain was buried.
He would ascertain from him and tell us. We resorted to hanging a second time, but without effect. Relying upon the information we had received, which we thought sufficient, we again removed the rope and pro ceeded to town in full force and well armed. The escaped Mexican had arrived there before us, and spread the report that we had hanged all his comrades, and that he had escaped with a shot-gun wound in the shoulder.
The town was full of gamblers who were especially friendly with their patrons, the Mexicans. They censured and threatened us. We defied them. Proceeding in a body to the fonda, we found it had been suddenly vacated. The man and woman who kept it had taken the alarm and fled. Our prisoner professed ignorance of everything. We removed the bed, dug beneath, and found the remains of our murdered comrade. Every possible effort was made to arrest the murderers, but they had a day's start of us, and there were neither telegraphs nor railroads to stop or overtake them. They left San Francisco for Chili, where, we were afterwards told, they arrived in safety. We set our prisoner free, with a gentle admonition as to his future conduct, which we have every reason to believe he religiously observed."