YUBA COUNTY
Biographies
Photos provided by Douglas G. Walsh ©
WELCH Family
Richard Welch - unknown date of photograph
Pioneer of Smartsville - born in Ireland
Back side of photo above.
Mary Russell Welch - wife of Richard
born 1850, Ireland
Back side of above photo - taken in Northampton, Mass. - unknown year.
I am Douglas G. Walsh. I was born in Springfield,
Massachusetts.
My father, probably in his early 70's, wrote about the cross-country trip of my
great grandfather Richard Welch and my great grandmother, Mary Russell Welch,
from Hadley, Massachusetts to Smartsville, California, around 1876 or 1877.
Richard and Mary are herein known as ‘Dick and Marie.’
I have tried to copy the manuscript faithfully, except to modify punctuation and
correct some spellings. I will add more comments at the end of the
manuscript.
Loss of the onion crop was the last straw. It had been one of New England's
worst winters in the past ten years. Snow and sleet was usually moderate, but
this one had been very heavy, followed by a rainy spring. The Connecticut River
had overflowed its banks covering the farmland with several inches of silt. This
on top of losing his six sons by Black Diphtheria in the past year was just too
much for Dick. He swore he wouldn't spend another year in this section of the
country.
Returning to the house, he told his wife Marie, he had made up his mind to sell
the farm and move to California, where there was reported that another gold
strike had occurred.
That night he went to see his uncle Jim who lived halfway up a foothill of the
nearby White Mountains. He told Jim of his plans to sell the farm. Jim did his
best to discourage him. Realizing Dick intended to go through with his plans,
Jim offered to buy the farm.
They agreed on a fair price. Jim was a shrewd business man. He had worked as a
mason back in England and coming to the United States he had bought this land
where he now lived, very reasonable. In terracing it, he had found clay
deposits. He started a small brick-yard with a kiln. Wood was plentiful. He was
able to make and sell bricks. Very soon he had his original investment back plus
much more. With the sale of bricks so successful, Jim was able to hire two
brothers, French-Canadian, whose family had fled from Acadia when the English
took over. They dug the clay, molded the bricks and fired the kiln. Jim's house
was one of the first in Western Massachusetts to have a brick-veneer. He also
had a smoke-house and vegetable and wine cellar.
It took Dick nearly the whole month to prepare for his trip. The heavy farm
wagon had been converted into a Conestoga wagon. Dick had the regional
blacksmith make the metal-bands to support the canvas top. (Jim)-A former
cabinet apprentice, he had built a cabinet to hold the kitchen utensils. On one
side of the wagon he had bolted this to the metal bands. On the floor of the
wagon he had laid a number of 8-foot wooden planks, loose, so if they ran into
any mud holes he would have something to put under the wheels. Two heavy draft
horses, a riding pony, and a cow. A crate of chickens and a keg of salt pork.
Marie would put her preserved fruits and vegetables in the drawers in the bottom
of the long cabinet. Her bed clothes and woolens in the inner half of the
divided chest Dick had built under the high wagon seat. His guns and tools would
go in the front half.
Two water barrels were banded to the side of the wagon opposite the cabinet, for
balance. Two buckets and two lanterns. On the cabinet side, a long box had been
fastened. This held two containers of kerosene and the rest of the box contained
charcoal, and one section of oats and corn. On the tailgate were four bales of
hay, this is where the cow and pony would be tied. The hay would have a canvas
tied over it.
Inside, opposite the cabinet, Dick had fastened a folding table. The
clothes-side of the box would serve as a 'seat.' Also on that side, the
bed-frame was fastened. The mattress would be laid on the floor when in-use and
then tilted and tied to the bed-frame when not in-use.
Finally the day came to start their trip. It was the middle of June. The few
neighbors had come to see them off. Each had brought a 'going-away gift,'
vegetables, smoked-meat, matches, and Jim had brought two jugs of homemade wine.
Also a tin box filled with silver coins.
Dick intended to follow the old well-worn freight route west, so he crossed down
through western Connecticut, southern New York state into Pennsylvania. These
Eastern roads were fairly well kept, so he made good time.
The farmers along the route were most hospitable. Dick was able to refill his
water barrels, get plenty of grain and hay for the horses and cow and stake them
out to nibble at the grass. Dick and Marie were always asked to have supper with
the farm family. The families were fascinated with the plans for such a long
trip. Nothing would do but that they take some more smoked-meat and fresh
vegetables along.
After thanking them for their hospitality, Dick headed southwest towards St.
Louis where they would cross the Mississippi River. From St. Louis they would
then head for Kansas City.
In Kansas City, Dick was able to buy a wagon-dog very cheap. He had been left at
the freight depot by a teamster who was returning to Chicago by train. The dog
sleeps most of the hot day in the wagon and is tied to the wheel at night, on
guard.
With the grain-box and the water barrels filled, they headed west across the
Kansas prairies. Three days later came the first danger they had encountered so
far. On the horizon to the north, Dick saw a dark cloud, but after watching it
for a while he came to the conclusion it was ‘smoke.’ This meant only one thing
out here. A ‘prairie-fire!’
Looking to the south from the freight-road, he spotted a dry-gulch, probably
caused by a flash-flood. Turning off the road, he headed for it.
Stopping about twenty-feet from the edge, Dick walked over and looked at it.
About seven-feet deep and twenty-feet wide, the bottom looked fairly
hard-packed. Returning to the wagon, Dick untied the light plow off the top of
the water barrels and set it to one side. Then getting his shovel from the
tool-box, he returned to the edge of the gulch and started to dig a ramp. Being
mostly sandy soil, it was but a short while till he had a gradual slope back to
the wagon. Driving down the ramp, he turned at the bottom and pulled in along
the northern side of the gulch.
Untying the four nested buckets, he filled them with water. He had Marie get him
six towels which he placed in the bucket to soak. Four of these he wanted to tie
over the three horses and cow’s heads. One large one he intended to tie on the
end of the garden hoe to wet down the canvas top of the wagon. The last one
wrung-out would be for the dog.
Unhitching the two big horses from the wagon, he led them up the ramp he had
made and hitched them to the plow. Dick then plowed four-furrows each side from
where the wagon stood. Then turned and plowed up and back on each end to the
road.
Returning down the ramp, he tied the two horses to the south-side of the wagon.
Wringing out the towels, he fastened them over the heads of the horses and the
cow. Giving one to Marie, who would be inside the wagon with the dog, he tied
the big towel around the head of the garden-hoe. With a bucket of water and the
hoe, he went back up the ramp. By dipping the towel in the bucket, he reached
out and wet the top of the wagon-canvas, letting it run down the sides.
With the wagon-canvas wet-down, he wet his bandana and tied it around his nose
and mouth. Picking up his shovel, Dick started a ‘back-fire,’ controlling it
with shovels of dirt. By the time he had burned-off the plowed-in strip, the
prairie-fire was less than a mile away. He returned to the edge of the gulch
next to the wagon. Sitting down, he waited.
The wind blowing at six to eight miles an hour, it wasn’t long before the fire
could be seen under the cloud of smoke. But something was running ahead of the
fire. A pair of ‘jack-rabbits’ came through the burnt-out strip, bounding along,
down the ramp he had dug and ducked under the wagon up against the side of the
gulch, where they huddled shivering. Dick rose to his feet, picking up his
shovel, for he knew more dangerous things would also be fleeing the fire.
Smelling the rabbits, the dog in the wagon started to bark, but Marie quieted
him down. To the west, Dick saw several coyotes dash across the road, but knew
he had nothing to fear from them, they were running for their lives. Near by,
across the burnt-strip, something was moving. Moving closer, Dick saw it was a
sidewinder-rattlesnake. He couldn’t let this get down into the gulch, for it
would frighten the horses, so waiting for the right moment, he chopped it in-two
with the edge of the shovel. Digging a shallow-hole, he buried it, for he did
not want Marie to see it or the horses to sense it on the way back to the road,
for it was a big one.
By this time the fire had reached the north side of the road. Stopped where Dick
had ‘back-fired,’ and jumped across on each side of the burnt-out strip and
raced along past them.
Dick returned to the wagon, decided to spend the night where they were. Feeding
and watering the horses and the cow, while Marie prepared supper, he threw a
handful of hay under the wagon for the two rabbits huddled there. As there was
no way of storing fresh-meat, he thought it best to let them live.
After cleaning up the supper-dishes, Dick and Marie climbed out on the
wagon-seat to talk and watch the clouds scurry across the quarter-moon. There
was a faint smell of ‘burnt-toast’ on the light breeze. They talked of the trip
so far, and wondered what lay-ahead of them. Shortly, the moon clouded-over, and
a light-rain started to fall, so they returned inside the wagon and prepared to
go to bed. Dick felt tired after his day’s work. He had fastened a rope to the
dog’s collar, so he wouldn’t bother the rabbits.
In the morning, when Dick looked under the wagon, the rabbits had gone. He took
the shovel and going to the ramp, patted down the damp sand, firming it for the
trip back up it.
Feeding and watering the horses and cow, he ate breakfast which Marie had
prepared. Then, hitched the horses and brought the wagon in a half-circle to the
foot of the ramp. Getting down from the wagon, he untied the pony from the back
of the wagon and led him up the side of the ramp to the flat at the top, and
staked him out at the side. Next, he brought up the cow and did likewise.
Returning to the wagon, he picked up the reins, flipped them along the horses’
backs. The horses started up the ramp at a good clip, but as the wagon started
up, they were forced to dig into their horse-collars and strain against the
weight. This was nothing new for them, who had pulled a stone-boat back on the
farm. Digging-in, they kept the wagon moving even as the wheels sunk in the sand
an inch or two. Slow going, but they finally made it to the top.
Tying the pony and cow to the back again, they headed back to the freight-road.
Once on the road, they could see the scorched-earth on all sides as far as they
looked. Thankful for escaping the fire, they headed west. It was several hours
before they came to the edge of the burnt-off section.
The wagon-trail crossed the bridge on the Walnut Creek just north of the Great
Bend in the Arkansas River, then headed west and then northwest to Denver.
(Doug’s note: At the city of Great Bend in central Kansas, the Arkansas River
goes southwest and a tributary - Walnut Creek - goes westbound.)
The next several days they made good mileage across the rolling prairie. There
was plenty of forage each evening when they pulled off the road and staked-out
the horses and cow.
An early start in the morning, they soon came to the foothills of the Rockies.
One afternoon they heard a ‘rolling’ noise that sounded almost like thunder, but
there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. On reaching the top of the next rise, they saw
the cause of the noise. In a narrow valley, a small herd of buffalo were running
north. Quickly grabbing the long rifle from under the wagon seat, Dick jumped
down and laying down he aimed at a young buffalo and squeezed-off a shot. The
buffalo reared up, ran a few steps and tumbled over on his side.
Waiting until the rest of the herd had passed, Dick drove down the side of the
valley and off the side of the road to where the buffalo lay. Taking his
skinning-knife, he started to skin the buffalo. Having butchered steers back on
the farm, this was nothing new to him. The dog was all-excited and kept running
around the buffalo, until Dick had to tie him to the wagon wheel, where Dick
tossed him scraps to keep him happy.
It took most of the day to butcher and salt the meat, so they decided to camp
there for the night. After lunch, Dick had taken the shovel and clearing a
shallow pit, had set up the iron frame to hang the iron pot on. This consisted
of two iron stakes with ‘Y’ shaped tops, across which another iron rod lay. He
built a small fire under the pot and poured water in it until it was about a
quarter full.
In the meantime, Marie had been busy cube-ing pieces of meat which she put into
the pot. Adding onions, carrots, turnips and potatoes. Making what was called a
“Mulligan stew.” After simmering for several hours, they had supper. They
thoroughly enjoyed the stew, glad to get fresh meat for a change. After supper,
Dick scraped and salted the hide, stretched it across the feed-box , hair-side
in, to let it dry.
It was another day and a half before they got to Denver. They had another good
meal the evening before by heating the rest of the stew, by adding a little
water to it.
In Denver, a good-size town, they drove to the freight station where the
station-master let them park their wagon in the freight yard. After taking care
of the livestock, they joined the station-master in his office.
Sam, the station-master, had been a freight wagon driver for twenty years before
settling-down to the job he now had. Dick and Marie told him of their plans to
go to the new gold-fields. Sam gave them some good advice from his past
experience. He told them of the extreme heat in the desert at midday. Advised
Dick to buy a large piece of canvas to shelter the horses and cow by stopping in
the midday and erecting the canvas on two long poles and two ropes across the
top of the wagon. Also to buy an extra barrel for water. When Dick mentioned
building a barn for winter shelter for the livestock, Sam told him to buy his
lumber here in Denver at one-third the cost it would be in California and ship
it by freight-wagon to Smartsville, the nearest town to the new goldfields,
where he could pick it up himself at the freight station.
Dick heeded Sam’s advice and went to the lumberyard, buying the lumber he
figured he would need, and also two kegs of different size nails and several
rolls of tar-paper. Bought a new barrel at the coopers and a large piece of
canvas and two long poles. He had plenty of rope. He had the feed-box filled and
another bale of hay.
Sam said he would take care of the shipping of the lumber, nails, and tar-paper.
Resting the livestock another day, they started out west on the wagon road.
After thanking Sam for his kindness, they said their good-byes.
The next several days was slow-going. The many ups and downs required many stops
to rest the horses. The road headed northwest towards Salt Lake City. (Doug’s
note: Guess through the Rocky Mountains in Wyoming.) Finally they came to the
place where the road divided, one headed north, the other headed southwest,
which they turned onto. (Doug’s note: Guess the old Fort Bridger area in
Wyoming, near present-day Evanston, Wyoming.) This road led into the desert.
(Doug’s note: The road south of the Great Salt Lake goes into the Great Salt
Lake Desert. This is Route 80 to Alt. Route 93 South in Nevada.)
Making camp for the night, they watered and fed the animals, had supper and sat
and watched a beautiful sunset and retired for the night. They wanted to get an
early start by daybreak.
Dawn comes slowly in the shadow of the mountain, so it was still dark where they
were camped when Dick arose. Lighting a lantern, he fed and watered the animals.
Then starting a small fire, he set up the tripod for the kettle to boil.
Marie had been preparing breakfast. Slicing bacon and potatoes, she set the iron
frying pan on the fire. First the bacon and then the sliced potatoes. Coffee in
the boiling water and they were soon eating. A quick clean-up and they started
out into the desert.
Taking the lantern and the dog on a leash, Dick led the way back to the road,
while Marie drove the team following him. It was at least an hour before the sun
popped-up over the top of the mountain.
Climbing back on the wagon, Dick took the reins. They made good time for the
next four hours. By then, the sun was high in the heavens and hot. Looking for a
place to stop, they came to an outcropping of wind-blown gravel. Pulling off the
side of the road, Dick got out the large square of canvas and the two long
poles. Tying two ropes to the corners on one end, he threw the ropes over the
top of the wagon, went around to the other side and pulled the end of the canvas
up to the top of the wagon and fastened it there. Fastening the other corners to
the end of the poles he set them upright. He now had a shelter for the animals.
Untying the horses and cow, he led them under the shelter, tying them to the
side of the wagon. Getting a bucket, he filled it from one of the water barrels.
He let the animals drink and then gave them some grain and hay.
Marie had made lunch, so after eating they laid down in the wagon for a siesta.
It seemed they had hardly fallen asleep when the noise of the horses stamping
and the dog barking woke them up. Dick climbed up on the seat to see what was
disturbing them. At first he could see nothing. Then he heard the sound of
“rattles” and spotted a rattlesnake about a dozen feet outside of the shade of
the canvas which it had been heading for when the vibrations of the horses
stamping had caused it to stop and coil up.
Taking the shotgun out of the wagon-box, Dick jumped down and walked toward it.
Stopping about six feet away, he took aim and blasted the snake to pieces with
buckshot. Quieting the animals down, he reloaded the shotgun, putting it back in
the wagon-box. Taking a shovel, he scooped-up the pieces of the snake, he walked
some distance away and buried it.
Coming back to the wagon, all was quiet again, so he climbed back in the wagon
to finish his siesta.
Four hours later, with the sun on a slant from the west, they broke camp and
started west. It was still hot, but nothing like it was at noon. About an hour
on the wagon road, they could see what looked to be a small town in the
distance. They traveled an hour more, when all of a sudden, the town
disappeared. Then they finally realized that what they had seen, was a mirage.
It was another three hours before they came to the little mining town of McGill,
at the foothills of the Sierra Nevada Mountains. (Doug’s note: McGill, NV is in
‘Eastern’ Nevada on Alt. Route 93 South, just north of Ely, NV, located between
the Schell Creek Mountain Range on the east, and the Egan Mountain Range on the
west. The “Sierra Nevada Mountains” are much further west.. )
Stopping at the freight station, the stationmaster said they were welcome to
stay in the freight yard for the night. Thanking him, Dick drove the wagon into
the freight yard, unhitched the horses and put them in a small corral, watered
and fed them. Going back to the wagon, he took care of the pony and cow. Then he
put the pony in the corral also. Getting a pail, he milked the cow, filled a jug
with milk, and set it in a bucket of water to cool.
In the meantime, the stationmaster told Marie to use the stove in the station to
cook supper. She made up a batch of biscuits, cut up some of the dried buffalo
meat, some onions and potatoes, and made a stew. When all was ready, she called
Dick in from the wagon. The stationmaster called “Rusty,” who in his younger day
had red hair, invited to join them, was only too happy to have a home-cooked
meal. Dick had brought in the jug of milk, cooled by now. They ate and talked
till there wasn’t a scrap left. Rusty pushed back his chair and said he couldn’t
recall when he had enjoyed a meal more.
They sat and talked for a while. Dick asked about water. Rusty told him that
about a mile to the west, was a brook that crossed the wagon road, where he
could fill his water barrels with cold mountain water. Rusty had many tales of
the old days when the Indians were a danger. Finally saying their ‘good-nights,’
Dick and Marie went out to the wagon. They wanted to get an early start in the
morning.
Shortly after daybreak, they were on the road west, deciding to wait breakfast
until they came to the brook. Arriving there, Dick built a small fire. He setup
the metal cooking frame, then watered the animals and gave them some grain and
hay. He then started to fill the water barrels, while Marie prepared breakfast.
When the barrels were full, Dick milked the cow. Filling a jug, he placed it in
the brook to cool. Also a pan-full to the dog, who seemed to like it warm.
Breakfast consisted of oatmeal with a little salt, buckwheat cakes cooked in
bacon fat with a little maple syrup, washed down with cold milk.
They made good time through the valley, coming out into the Nevada desert. Four
hours later it was time for their siesta and lunch. Three more days of the same,
they came to Virginia City. This was a busy town, what with the big silver
mines. Dick was tempted to settle here, but decided to continue on to
California. So camping on the outskirts on the west side of town, they spent the
day shopping for supplies.
After an early breakfast, they headed west toward Donner Pass. Warned that the
snow sometimes came early in the mountains, they wasted as little time as
possible until they had reached the pass. A couple of steep grades, it had been
necessary to hitch the pony out front on a special hitch to help pull up the
steep grades.
Through the pass, they started down the other side of the mountain. The view of
California as they descended was spectacular.
The next freight-station was located in Smartsville. This was also the closest
town to the new gold-strike. Dick’s lumber was also consigned here.
Several days later, they pulled into the freight-yard. The freight-agent told
them they were welcome to camp there until the lumber arrived, if they wished.
The agent was talking with another man who had been listening to Dick. He spoke
up and said that he had a cabin up on the creek where his claim was. Dick looked
up at him. He was a big fellow, six-foot seven and well-built. He introduced
himself to Dick and Marie. He said his name was Bill Evens. He told Dick that he
was ‘looking for a partner.’ Invited them to come up with him to look the place
over.
Talking it over with Marie, who said she liked the looks of the big fellow, thus
agreeing with Dick’s first opinion, they decided to go along with him.
Bill had come into town for supplies. So Dick told him to load them into the
back of the wagon instead of tying them on his horse. They started out heading
north. It was about two miles to Bill’s claim. He had built himself a good-size
cabin on a plateau over-looking the stream. Dick and Marie both liked the place.
Dick saw that there was good grazing for the animals so he talked things over
with Bill. The front of the cabin faced the South. By putting up a partition on
the east end, they would have a room for Dick and Marie. This would leave most
of the lumber to build a barn attached to the house on the north side.
A week later, Bill came back from town with the news that the lumber had arrived
and was waiting at the freight yard for Dick to come and get it.
Dick and Marie had been moving most of the things in the wagon into the cabin,
so it wasn’t long before the wagon was stripped. Dick and Bill road into town
and loaded the lumber on the wagon. Sam, true to his word, had also shipped the
nails and tar paper.
Stringing a rope across the east end of the cabin with two drapes on it, they
created a place of privacy for Marie. For the present, the mattress was laid on
the floor.
Bill’s bunk was along the south wall. The fireplace Bill had built of stones and
clay from the creek on the west wall was a good-size one. The metal frame they
had brought with them would easily fit in it with room for the iron pot.
Bringing in a pail of water from the water barrel, Marie prepared to get supper.
With plenty of dried buffalo meat, onions, carrots and potatoes to make a tasty
stew.
They all enjoyed the meal very much. Bill was lavish with his praise. They sat
and talked of their plans to close off the east end of the cabin, making it into
a bedroom. Building a barn on the north side of the cabin for the horses and the
cow. Also Bill suggested, if there were any boards left, that they make a
‘traverse-trough’ for the creek. With this they could stop panning the sand.
I offer this story “as-is.” My dad, the author, suffered a severe stroke, and
that’s probably why the story ended here. I barely discussed the story with him
when he began to write it and never saw it again until roughly 10 years after
his death.
I have no way of verifying anything except:
1. Photo of “Dick,” on the back saying:
“Died in Smartsville, California in 1878.”
2. Gravestone in the Roman Catholic Church of the Immaculate Conception
graveyard in Smartsville, California.
The stone shows the death-date as: “Jan. 6, 1879.” But, a photocopy of the
actual Church Burial Record, obtained from the Roman Catholic Diocese of
Sacramento, Calif., shows the death-date as: “Dec. 6, 1878.” The stone also
says: Age: 32 years “Erected by his affectionate wife” (Nativity: “County
Waterford, Ireland”) No other family member is buried there.
The Church Burial Record lists “illness” as cause of death.
Interestingly, in a book entitled: “El Nino,” by J. Madeleine Nash, I found the
following: “The winter of 1877-78, Kiladis and Diaz concluded, was the second
wettest San Francisco had experienced in 125 years; by contrast, 1982-83
qualified only as the third wettest.”
Smartsville is roughly 120 miles northeast of San Francisco. So, living at a
mining location, and mining itself, in that type of weather could have
contributed largely to his untimely death.
3. A church statement of Baptism of Dick and Marie’s son - Richard 2nd - my
grandfather - that he was born in Smartsville or the Smartsville area on August
6, 1878 and that he was baptized August 8, 1878 in the Roman Catholic Church of
the Immaculate Conception in Smartsville.
4. My grandfather’s US Marine military service record, 1899-1904, which I
obtained in 2006, shows his birthplace as: “Smartville, California.” I will do a
separate study of him, complete with pictures, in the future.
5. The 1880 Federal Census shows: “Widow Mary” and her 1-year old son - born in
“California” - now residing with her parents Ellen and Michael in Hadley,
Massachusetts. Widow Mary and deceased husband Richard are both shown to have
been born in Ireland. (This Census was taken in mid June, 1880.)
6. On Kathy Sedler’s “YubaRoots” Yuba County website:
A “Richard Walsh,” Rose Bar Township – in which “Smartsville” was located -
signed-up for “Voter Registration” for “only” the years: 1877 and 1879.
A “Richard Walsh” signed-up for the “Military Draft” for “only” the year: 1878.
Their son, Richard - born August 6, 1878, Smartsville
Baptized in the Roman Catholic Church of the Immaculate Conception, Smartsville,
August 8, 1878
Photo above taken during his tour in the U. S. Marines 1899-1904, Private,
serving 2.5 years on land and 2.5 years at sea.
He had just turned 21 years when he enlisted.
