thank you for share Michael Oaks-HARD LIQUOR MADE MINERS TOUGH OUTFIT Bold Characters of Mining Men, Bloody and Amusing Occurrences Around Browntown Are Revealed __ By Wm. Mackey Edited by Michael Oaks About five miles up the Althouse from Browntown is the famous Johnson’s Point, a lofty bluff just below the forks of Althouse, and situated on the east side of that stream. It may be seen from afar, standing out in bold relief. This point is about 150 yards in length and ranked among the richest gravel deposits of Josephine County. This point was worked by Nels Johnson more than 70 years ago and bears his name. A continuation of the Johnson lead was a bar of gravel in the creek underneath, which paid extremely rich. A man named Henry McVay sold this bar to a Chinese company for $300. The Chinese had a hilarious time while working this bar, feasting and drinking gin, indicating that Harry McVay had sold out too cheaply. Gold Peters Out From Johnson’s Point down the Althouse there again occurs one of those unaccountable things in the geology of the country. As at Grass Flat, the creek failed to pay for one half or perhaps three quarters of a mile. This narrative would not be complete if we failed to make mention of Bill Evans. He was a miner on Sucker Creek in the year 1856 and was afterwards a merchant in Browntown from the later 50’s until the early 70’s. He was from the state of Indiana and was a man of fair education, who dabbled considerably in politics and political literature. He bore the reputation among the people of being a good fellow. He had a vein of mischief and fun making and delighted in practical jokes. He kept a large barrel of whisky of his own manufacture in a stone cellar in the rear of his store, which was called “terrible stuff.” When the combative miners came to Browntown and went into Evans’ stone cellar and partook of Evans’ best from the glass at the bottom of the big barrel, several went on the war path, and set out like Alexander the Great to conquer the world. Evans Calm When they shed their linens, as they termed taking off their shirts, and went out in the street to settle their grudges and disputes by a fistic struggle, Evans seemed to enjoy himself immensely amidst those warlike scenes. He commented on the physical powers and prowess of the Combatants. When those miners with Evans’ brand rising in their brains cursed and berated the latter calling him a scoundrel and accusing him of cheating them in bills of goods which he had sold them, Bill Evans coolly smoked his cigar and replied with a smile, “I know, boys, I am a damned thief. I will beat you on every turn if I get a chance.” In 1857 there came to Althouse an eccentric and combative Irishman named Patrick Rooney. He had crossed the plains the time of the first gold rush to California and had formerly been a mule driver in the Mexican war of 1846. He was a small man of slight build and light complexion, and for his size was a wildcat in a fight. When under the influence of liquor he would purposely take what he knew was the wrong side in an argument, to get the chance to insult or provoke somebody. He was familiarly called “Old Pat” by the miners. He had a cabin alongside of the Althouse trail about one mile up the creek from Browntown. Old Pat’s cabin was a hanging-out-place for the miners when coming home from Browntown with their bottles and little harvest kegs full of Bill Evans’ fighting whisky. Sometimes they spent days and nights drinking and carousing at Old Pat’s before they resumed their journey through the tall fir trees up the Althouse canyon. Set Miners Fighting While the miners stayed over at Old Pat’s cabin, the latter, who was well informed on the current topics of the day, introducing arguments which caused he intoxicated miners to fight with each other, or they would at times administered a good thrashing to Old Pat himself, before they left his premises. It is safe to say that Old Pat’s cabin and its immediate surroundings had been in 10 years, the scene of 100 fights. In the year 1859 Colonel E.D. Baker, who was afterwards killed at Balls Bluff in the Civil War, stumped the state of Oregon in the interest of the Republican Party, for which he received $36,000. In making his tour, Baker came to Browntown, and Bill Evans, knowing that Old Pat had always been one of the most uncompromising of democrats resolved to convert him to republicanism. Made Him a G.O.P. Evans called some of his confidential men around him, and said, “Now boys, we want to make a republican out of Old Pat. We wil get Colonel Baker after him.” Evans’ friends, knowing the contrary disposition of Old Pat shook their heads and said, “The thing cannot be done.” Evans said, “Leave it all to me and you will see.” Evans knew that Old Pat’s weak point was his great personal vanity. And as Colonel Baker had been an officer in the United States and Mexican War of 1846, In which Old Pat had been a mule driver, Evans instructed Baker to meet Old Pat unexpectedly in the midst of the crowd and suddenly recognized Old Pat as one os his old Mexican War soldiers. Old pat was seen coming down the Althouse trail to Browntown, and when he arrived Evans and his friends gathered around to see Colonel Baker try his powers of persuasion on Old Pat. Singles Pat Out Baker, in passing through the throng of miners, stopped abruptly in front of Old pat and said, “Well is it possible that I meet one of my old soldiers here in the wilds of Oregon?” Baker then extended his hand to Old Pat and said, “Give me the hand, my fine Hibernian,” and holding Old Pat’s hand in his own, Baker turned to the crowd and said, “Gentlemen, here is a brave Irishman, who stood side by side with me on the plains of Mexico, where the bullets fell like hail, and was willing to spill the last drop of his life blood for the stars and stripes and for the land of his adoption. Bill Evans wore a very serious look and said, “You bet, Colonel, I know Pat. They don’t make any braver men then he is,” “And now,” continued Baker, “my brave soldier, as you have served me so faithfully in war, you will serve me, your old chief, in peace, by walking up to he polls on the coming election day and voting the good straight republican ticket” Old Pat was much moved and relied repeatedly, “You bet your life I will Colonel, you bet your life, I will.” And from that day forth, Old Pat was one of the staunchest of republicans. It seems that Colonel Baker had convinced Old Pat contrary to the latter’s senses, that he, Pat, had been a soldier fighting in the ranks when he had been only a government mule driver. Drew His Knife The most disastrous combat in Old Pat’s career was his encounter with Daniel Kinney in the year 1859. Kinney was a young man of powerful physique and belonged to the old school of frontiersmen who believed in settling their grievances by the code of the lead and steel. Old Pat had spoken in a manner derogatory of Dan Kinney, and the latter met Old Pat in Browntown and demanded an explanation. Kinney always carried a huge white handled Bowie knife, and a large six-shooter hung on his belt. When he interrogated Old Pat in regard to what the latter had said about him, Old Pat gave Kinney an insulting answer. Kinney then knocked Pat down and jumping upon bit off Old Pats under lip, which was very large and protruding. Bill Evans was often heard to say that it made a handsome man of Old Pat to have that lip taken off. While Kinney was wreaking vengeance on Old Pat the latter’s partner, Mike Riley came to the rescue. Kinney jumped off of Old pat and drawing his big knife pursued Mike Riley, who ran in swift retreat. Riley fired three shots with his pistol at Kinney, but being closely pressed he could not take a correct aim and the bullets missed Kinney. After they had run about 200 yards or the whole length of the street in Browntown, Kinney caught up with Riley, as the latter turned around the corner of a house and drove his huge blade, which was 10 inches long into Riley’s side at the waist. The blade entered to its fll length into the hollow space over the bowls. It seems that no member of the body was severed. Riley was taken to a hotel in Browntown where he hovered between life and death for five weeks. Riley, wonderful to relate, recovered and afterwards he killed Dan O’Regan with a knife in Browntown. Kinney Flees Kinney, after the fracas, fled into the Siskiyou Mountains but was followed by the officers, captured, and brought back and was tried and sentenced to a term of years in the state prison. Upon being sentenced Kinney said that he had now only one thing to live for and that was to serve his time , and then come back to Althouse and kill Old Pat. Kinney escaped from state prison, and was on his way back to carry out his threat when he had a battle with the officers in the Willamette Valley and was shot and fatally wounded, dying at a farmhouse to which he was taken. In 1865, six years after his bloody encounter with Daniel Kinney, Mike Riley was the chief actor in a terrible tragedy in Browntown. Dan O’Regan was a merchant in that place, and had what was then called the finest store in Josephine County. Dan O’Regan’s wife and Mike Riley formed a strong attachment for each other and together they planned to elope. In order to pave the way for the elopement they found it necessary to cause Dan O’Regan to openly rebel against his wife. With the consent of Mrs. O’Regan, an anonymous letter charging the latter’s wife, Mrs. O’Regan, with very improper conduct. Scented Trouble Dan O’Regan learned the source of the letter which he had received and sent for George Wells to come to his store at Browntown. O’Regan also sent for Mike Riley. Wells scented trouble in the air. He sheathed his left arm with leather between the elbow and the wrist to guard against a knife thrust, carried the arm in a sling, which was suspended from his neck and wore a large soldiers overcoat. Taking along with him his big old-fashioned dragoon pistol, he went to Browntown. The O’Regan store was thronged with miners. George Wells stood on the outside of the counter with his left foot upon a chair, and the left arm rested on his left knee. His big dragoon pistol, which he held in his right hand, he laid across his left arm, which was supported by the sling and concealed by the cape of the soldier’s overcoat. Standing on the outside of the counter also stood Mike Riley about 10 feet from George Wells. Both men were facing each other. Dan O’Regan stood on the inside of the counter and producing the trouble-breeding letter, said to George Wells, “Did you write this letter?” Wells coolly replied, “Yes that is the letter that I wrote for Mr. Riley.” At the mention of his own name Riley flared up and excitedly exclaimed. “What!” Pulls Out Pistol It seems as if Wells and Riley were about to clash, when Dan O’Regan, who was under the influence of liquor took the quarrel out of Wells’ hands. He called Riley a vile name and reaching under the counter, pulled out an old rusty unused pistol in sight of all. Mike Riley said, “Well, self preservation is one of he first laws of nature.” Drawing his huge bowie knife, he buried the blade in Dan O’Regan’s body. He fell upon the floor and expired within a few minutes. Mrs. O’Regan rushed into the store and pretended to almost go into hysterics over the loss of her husband. Mike “Riley and O’ Regan’s wife afterward left the country together. About the year 1856 a German Jew named Cohen kept a store in Browntown. He was the first owner of the famous Cohen Quartz Ledge, which bears his name. This ledge is situated about two miles from Holland up on the mountain southeast of that place. They say that it was very rich when first struck. There is a large amount of iron in the vicinity of the Cohen Ledge and other things, which indicated the presence of gold. There was also a quartz mill built down in the valley about one mile from Holland, to which ore was hauled from the ledge. This quartz mine has been repeatedly abandoned and then relocated for 70 years. The End * * * * * * * *
Posted on: Wed, 05 Nov 2014 09:39:50 +0000
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