JUSTIN WILLARD MILES, b 18 Jun 1830 (Part 3 of 3)

MILES

Posted By: Donna Moldt Walker (email)
Date: 7/11/2004 at 08:06:30

Another week's travel brought us to the place where Lawson and his ill-fated company perished the previous winter. Their ghastly skeletons, picked clean by the wolves and vultures, were strewn about the old camp in reckless profusion. It was the most hideous sight I had ever witnessed. This was near the eastern base of the Sierra Nevada Mountains. The ascent of these mounts was so gradual that we scarcely realized it, but the descent on the opposite side was so abrupt that we were compelled at times to lower our wagons by means of long ropes. This was the hardest and most tedious part of our journey.

On September 18, just six months from the day we left home, we arrived at Gibsonville. Here we Canaan boys decided to stop to try our fortunes. In a short time we had staked out claims, built us a log cabin, and were washing out gold. Eight of us labored and bunked together. Snow began to fall late in October, and at one time during the winter of 1852-53 it lay twenty feet deep. There was nothing done in the mines after this for a long time. Everybody was kept busy shoveling out his cabin, and procuring wood for fuel.

Gibsonville is at the foot of Pilot Knob. About 300 mines were located here. January 1 we all started out to beat a path to the Rabbit Creek house, a distance of eleven miles, where we could get provisions. Gibsonville had run out of about everything except whiskey, and none of us could live long on that alone. We left camp at Gibsonville early in the morning, single file, the head man wallowing waist deep or deeper in the snow until exhausted, then he would fall out and the next man would continue a little farther in the same manner. When 300 men had traversed the same path it was quite passable. We made five miles the first day, and all but one returned home at night, though some were late getting back. We started out early on the following morning to complete our work, but had not gone more than a mile when we picked up our lost companion, evidently chilled to death, although it had not frozen a particle. He probably sat down to rest, and being fatigued fell asleep, never to wake again. On the second day we completed our road to the Rabbit Creek house, and each man carried back what provisions he could. Two of our mess went down every week thereafter until the first of May, when a train of Mexican pack mules came up with supplies.

Nothing of grave importance happened during the summer until September. At this time was found missing a man by the name of Slater, who kept a trading post about three miles below our camp. His ranch was still run by his cook, a young man who came with Slater from Portland, Me. When miners went there to trade, and inquired for Slater, the cook would always tell them he had gone below to buy goods. People became suspicious after a while, and sent a man below to inquire about him, but no one had seen him. For some time two sailors had been stopping with the cook, and one Sunday when two of the miners went down to trade these sailors offered them $5 to cut down a large pine tree, instructing them particularly that it must be felled in a certain place. The miners did the work and received their pay, but on the way back to camp they began to think it strange that the tree must be put in just such a position. They related their experience to our mess, and we too thought it strange. After talking the matter over, I was appointed a committee to go over to Shaskey, where there was a vigilance committee, and have them investigate the matter. I found the boy captain, as he was called, and he, with one other, came to Gibsonville the next day. They hired two men to saw the log into cuts and roll it away. Then they began to dig along beneath its bed, and soon found a soft place. After digging but one foot they found, in a sitting position, the object of their search, with his head split open, apparently with an ax, and a rope around his neck. The rope passed under his knees up to his chin, and was tied in a sailor's knot. The sailors had left the ranch some time before, so the Captain put the cook under arrest, and went over to Nelson Creek, where he found the sailors, and brought them back to Gibsonville. They were taken to Slater's ranch the next day and tried for murder before a jury of miners. Some one had told the cook if he would turn State's evidence and tell what he knew about the murder they would let him go; accordingly, he was made first witness. His testimony was as follows: "These sailors have been at the ranch a great deal. One day when Slater was out they asked me how much money he had in the house. I told them $16,000, besides his stock of goods. They then proposed to make way with him, and share the 'boodle', but I was to have no part in the murder, except to go up the road and watch that no one should come upon them. They offered me $6,000 and the store, they to take $5,000 apiece and leave the country. I agreed to this, and the program was carried out as planned." The sailors showed no fear, but declared their innocence to the very end. The jurors brought in a verdict of guilty, and all three were hanged until they were dead. The cook was hanged first, and broke down so completely that he could not stand alone while the rope was being thrown over the lib. The other two died "game."

We continued our mine with fair success for some time, and were working two set of men, one by night and one by day. I worked with the night crew. We had drifted into the mountain by one main tunnel about 100 feet, and had run several drifts to the right and left, becoming very careless about timbering overhead to prevent the top of the drift from flaking off. On the 20th of May, 1854, while was was at work as usual, a large quantity of gravel fell upon me, and buried me to the depth of three or four feet. Three other men were working near, and they came immediately to my rescue. The gravel being loose, they soon shoveled me out, though more dead than alive. I was carried to our log cabin, and for more than a month suffered so much that death would have been a great relief. No bones were broken, but every muscle and fiber had been squeezed until it was a tender and sensitive as naked nerve. While I was confined to my bed we had another sensation that caused us to send again for the boy Captain. Our Gibsonville butcher, who was accustomed to go down the valley every week for stock, started out the 1st of May with $700 in his pocket. His body was found three days later, not more than a mile from town. Five fatal wounds showed that he had made a gallant fight for his life.

Two gamblers who staid at Gibsonville were suspicioned. One of them had been seen on the same day that our butcher left town, with his hand tied up in the butcher's handkerchief. He claimed to have cut his hand while grinding his bowie knife, but when the boy Captain and his partner came into town the gamblers suddenly left. The Captain followed their trail, but was surprised and fired at by the gamblers about three miles from town. They missed him, however, and he returned their shots, killing one and forcing the other to surrender. The criminals were brought back to Gibsonville, and the living one confessed the murder. He was hanged to a tree, with apparent indifference to his fate.

This Boy Captain is well known by many Jackson County people. He is now, and has been for several years, a conductor on the Chicago, Milwaukee & St. Paul Railway, between Chicago and Marion. Charles Shepherd is the Boy Captain of one of California's earlier day vigilance committees.

In two months from the date of my injury in the mine I was able to move about a little by the aid of crutches. I then sold my interest in the mine and decided to return to Ohio. The boys carried me to the nearest stage line, a distance of twelve miles, and I started for San Francisco, arrived there much better than when I left the mines. June 20 we started from San Francisco on the steamship "Oregon," and had a very pleasant fourteen-days journey to Panama. Here we procured horses or mules to cross the Isthmus to Chagres. Just before arriving at this place one of the passengers, getting a little behind his comrades, was waylaid and robbed by some natives. He was left for dead, but another company coming over soon after found him, and brought him along to Chagres. When we left the next morning he was still alive. From Chagres we had a journey of twenty-five miles down the river in open skiffs, then took the cars to Aspinwall. After waiting two days for a steamer to New York, we took passage on the "Georgia," and were in New York in eight days. On the "Georgia" I made the acquaintance of six sickly looking men, who said they were all that was left of seventy-five who came from New York to the Isthmus sixty days before, to work on the railroad then building from Aspinwall to Panama. In New York I left my old clothing all in a bath house, took a bath, a shave, and a shampooing, donned a new suit, and was thus for the first time in more than two years entirely without that company that sticketh closer than a brother.

I arrived at Canaan, Wayne Co., Ohio, my home and birth place, about Aug. 1, 1854, much improved in health and quite able to walk. In two months I was entirely well. The following October I received a letter from my unclie, who had moved to Jackson County, Iowa, in 1852. He stated that cattle brought a good price in Iowa that fall. During the summer of 1854, Northern Ohio had suffered from a severe drouth, so that everybody was short of feed, and cattle were cheap. My brother, J.N. Miles, and I, concluded to buy up a drove and take them to Iowa. Accordingly, we bought 130 head, and when he had them ready to drive, they had not cost us more than $10 a head. In Eastern Illinois we bought twenty-five more, and when we reached Iowa in early December, our herd numbered 155 head. We crossed the Mississippi River at Lyons and staid with Elijah Buell. The weather was still as pleasant as early autumn. They told us at Lyons that Iowa was an Indian name and signified: "This is the place." We thought it rightly named. December 9 we sold our stock at public auction, and realized $32 a head for the drove. I liked the country so well that I bought the fifty acres on which my buildings now stand, selecting that particular piece especially to secure the water running through it. It pleased me so much that I decided at once to make this my future home.

About the middle of January, 1855, I returned to Ohio, and in the spring following learned that my father had signed a note for $2,000 with one Zuner, a merchant who had just failed. It was evident that my father must pay the note, if something was not speedily done to relieve him. I hastened to see Mr. Zuner, and was not long in persuading him that he had better make some provision for paying the claim. He had sent his brother with twenty horses to Walnut Grove just before he failed, and he gave me a bill of sale of these horses. With this I followed at once, arriving at the Grove on the very day the horses did. They were turned over to me, and within two weeks I disposed of all but one. This one I kept to ride to Jackson County, Iowa, the distance being only about eighty miles.

The next day I rode to a small town just below Rock Island and put up for the night. Next morning I reached Rock Island about 8 o'clock, to take the ferry across to Davenport. While seated on my horse waiting for the boat to come over, a stranger approached me, looked at the horse very critically, and said to me: "Stranger, I think I know this horse." He spoke so impolitely that I retorted: "I presume so, as you look to me like a very knowing fellow." Just at this moment the ferry boat landed and this man went aboard ahead of me, and engaged in a low conversation with the Captain. I soon became convinced that they were talking about my horse. Immediately on landing at the wharf in Davenport my attentive friend disappeared. I had not ridden but a few blocks up Main street, when he, with the Scott County Sheriff, stopped me. The Sheriff showed me a telegram from Kankakee, Ill., showing that parties there had had a horse stolen, and that my horse answered the description. I then explained the history of my horse, how I came by him, and where I was going. The Sheriff said he knew a man in Rock Island who was acquainted with the stolen horse, and if I would go back with him he would pay me for my time and my expenses if the horse proved to be my property. Thinking this to be an easy way out of an unpleasant position, I readily consented. When we arrived on the other side I found the Sheriff of Rock Island County and thirty policemen, backed by a mob of at least 200, ready with open arms to receive me. I then (but alas, too late) saw through the whole scheme. Sheriff Leonard, of Scott County, handed me over to the Rock Island Sheriff, and he, surrounded by thirty policemen, took me off the boat. The mob yelled: "Hang the horse thief," and attempted to force through the guards, but after several were knocked down by the officer's "billey's," they were induced to stand back. We soon arrived at the jail, and I was ushered into the protection of its walls just in time to escape the fury of the mob. As soon as I was within the jail I felt greatly relieved, although I had made up my mind that should the mob succeed in breaking through the police I should put spurs to my powerful animal, draw my revolver and make my way to the open prairie if possible.

When first locked in the jail the jailer seemed quite friendly, but at noon when he brought my dinner he seemed radically changed. I asked him what was the matter. He told me frankly that he had become convinced that I was the avowed leader of a gang of horse thieves and desperadoes. I asked what made him think so, and he told me there was another fellow in the jail who had been arrested for stealing horses, and had said he did not see me when I entered, although I passed right by his cell. But he had described the leader of his gang that had aroused that whole section of country by stealing so many horse, and he said I answered the description to a T. Well, I remember saying: "This beats hell." Then I asked him if he would send me a lawyer. He said he would. I also asked him if he was acquainted with the Master of the Masonic Lodge in the city. He said he knew him, and told me his name, but refused to carry the note. But I secured the delivery by bribing one of the guards.

The lawyer soon came and said he would get me out for $10, and it would be all right, as the mob had dispersed. He then left me, and I never saw him again, though I waited a day to find him and get his scalp, after I was released. But when he learned that I was out of jail and on the war path, he left town for a few days.

The next morning the Master of the Masonic Lodge came to see me. He heard my story, and believed me innocent. He and his friend offered to give bail for me, but the Sheriff was so sure he had his man that he would not let me go on bail. He then offered to pay four policemen to guard me in the city until the matter could be settled. This also they politely refused. Afther this the Master sent me meals from his own table three times a day, until I was released. I was confined altogether three days and three nights. The third morning the Master brought Judge Knock to me. He was one of the most influential men in Rock Island County, and after hearing my complete history, he advised me to stay right where I was until the owner of the stolen horse arrived, stating that he had been heard from, and that he would be there as early as possible. The Judge charged me $25 for this consoling advice.

In due time the man arrived, and to the disappointment of the whole posse, informed them that they had the wrong horse, so nothing could be done but to release me. I came out of that cell on the 10th of May, and the world had never seemed so bright to me. Everything looked cheerful and encouraging. The earth, the sun, and even the people. Some, who three days before were going to hang me to a lamp post, shook hands and congratulated me on my escape.

I inquired for my ten-dollar lawyer, but when I found he was gone I went down to see when the ferry-boat would cross. I found that it was too late to get over that day, and while chatting with the Captain of the boat he showed me where he lived. That very night his house was robbed, and I was the inevitable subject of another suspicion. But after leaving the ferry I had gone to a hotel, and having lost so much sleep during previous nights, I retired at 9 o'clock. The Sheriff, with the Captain, put in an appearance in the morning before I was up. But the proprietor of the hotel assured them they were after the wrong man again, as I had gone to my room before 9 o'clock, and had not since been out. He convinced them that it would have been impossible for me to get out and back again without being seen, for they had a night watch. I told the Sheriff next morning I should bring suit against him for false imprisonment. He said I ought not, for had it not been for him the ferry Captain would have insisted on my second arrest. I the concluded to sell my horse and take passage on the first boat up the river. This I did, finding a buyer at $150. I then crossed to Davenport again, and consulted Judge Grant concerning the advisability of bringing suit for false imprisonment. He advised me not to do so, stating that under the present exceptment we could find no jury that would give us damages.

That night I took a boat for Sabula, and the next day visited my friends in Van Buren. I returned to Ohio again the last of May, but came to Iowa again in the fall for the purpose of making myself a home.

In the meantime I had become acquainted with a pretty girl, whom I had prevailed upon, by making fair promises, to become my wife as soon as I had a home in which to put her. The result is well known.

What I have done since then is too familiar to the people of Jackson County, into those hands this book will chiefly fall, to bear repeating. My record is better known and more fairly judged than I, or anyone else, can tell it or judge it in a few brief lines.

Respectfully,
J.W. Miles

("Portrait and Biographical Album of Jackson County, Iowa", originally published in 1889, by the Chapman Brothers, of Chicago, Illinois.)