Some Reminiscences of Early Trinity [pp. 17-32]

Some Reminiscences of Early Triinity.
the Rev. H. B. Sheldon, who preached on
alternate Sabbaths at Weaverville and Shasta.
It was the first religious discourse I had
heard since leaving home five years before,
and I was greatly impressed by it. The
text was, " Behold I stand at the door and
knock; if any man hear my voice and open
unto me, I will come in to him and sup with
him, and he with me." Religion was
sadly at a discount with the mining fraternity in those days, and we had scarcely left
the house to return to the log cabin when
one irreverent fellow broke out into the
words of a then popular negro ditty:
"Is dat you, Sam?" "Oh, no, its Jim."
"Well. you ain't good looking, and you can't
come in,
So it's no use knocking at de (lo' any mo',
So it's no use knockin' at de do',"
which he thought should have been sung in
meeting as appropriate to the text chosen.
A more creditable story however, is told
of Minersville, a little town a few miles above
Eastman's. There was a small band of
Christians there, and occasionally a clergyman visited them. Services were held in an
old butcher shop opposite the store, which
had attached to it the inevitable saloon of
the day. One Sabbath afternoon, services
were held, while at the same time the devil
was getting in his work among the ungodly
across the street. That no part of the service should be neglected, the hat was passed
around, and three dollars and six bits collected. A sorrowful look came over the
reverend gentleman's face as he saw the size
of the collection.
"Suppose you go among the friendly sinners over the way; they may do something,"
said he.
"The friendly sinners" were visited with
good results. About twenty dollars in five
franc pieces and half dollars was poured from
the hat upon the table, and the clergyman
made happy.
The early politics of the county developed
some surprising results. In the first election
held, the county-seat was to be located;
and Weaverville and Eureka (now in.Humboldt County and its seat of justice) contended for the honor. When the votes were
counted, Simpson's Hole polled seventy-five
solid votes for Eureka, and Weaverville was
beaten. As there was no such place in the
county as Simpson's Hole, Weaverville woke
up, petitioned for a new election, which was
granted, and this time got the majority.
A court house was built on the ridge overlooking the town, which, until it was burned
down a decade or so later, was known as the
"Missouri Poorhouse" from the number of
men from that State that were elected to
county office. The late Hon. John C.
Burch, ex-Congressman and Code Commissioner, a Missourian by birth, got his first
start in successful political life by occupying
the Missouri Poorhouse as our first County
Clerk. Parties were then divided into Whig
and Democrat, but with the Missourians, of
whom there were many in the county, the
first requisite of fitness for office was that the
candidate should be a Missourian.
"Dad" Hinkle was a local politician of
the Democratic faith, who attended every
Democratic convention with as much regularity as if the fate of the nation depended
upon his being there. He was an old man,
wore no beard, and had been a preacher in
his younger days. I cabined with him one
summer, when he told me much of his past,
informing me among other things, that at
the senatorial convention two years before
he came within one vote of getting the nomination of his party for senator, and as his
party was immensely in the majority and a
nomination the equivalent of an election,
Dad at once rose to a great height in my
estimation, and I regarded myself as highly
favored by fortune in having a man pf such
presumable ability as a cabin mate. But
alas! this proud place he held in my thoughts
was doomed to receive a terrible fall. Coming home from work one evening, my eyes
were attracted by a paper stuck in a split
stick on the banks of Dad's water race. I
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