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

Some Reminiscences of Early Trinity.
at once read the "Notis" which was placed
there for the purpose of informing the min ing world that Dad claimed "fifty sloos heds
of Watter," to be taken out of "Wever
crik." Never was an idol torn from its ped estal sooner than was mine. Poor old
Dad! He went back to Missouri just
before the breaking out of the rebellion, and
his sympathies led him at once into the ranks
of the "Minute Men," a secesh body. The
last I heard of him, the "Home Guards," a
Union company, had killed his son, wounded
his son-in-law, and after keeping him tied to
a tree for a while as a mark to see how near
they could shoot to him without hitting him,
let him go on condition that he should leave
Missouri, never to return, which he was glad
to do.
But with the downfall of the Whig party
a change came over the spirit of county
politics. "Know-Nothingism" swept over
the county like a tornado, carrying everything before it; and as the new party's organization was a secret one, the result was
a surprise to those who, like Dad, were
faithful to their first political love. Its
growth was only equaled by the rapidity of
its decline and fall; for after the first election,
to use a common expression, it "never took
a trick." The Know-Nothing council in
Weaverville held its meetings in the hall of
a large frame building, the lower part of
which was used as a carpenter's shop, the
floor of the hall being thickly covered with
sawdust, to save its mysteries from becoming known to the uninitiated who might stroll
into the shop below. One fated night, however, the hall was filled with worshipers at
the Know-Nothing shrine, including nearly
every prominent man in town. The sacred
mysteries were being expounded, when there
was a crash of falling timbers, a confusion
of yells, groans, and shouts, and presently
the adherents of the new party came limping
out hatless from the ruins of the building,
which, tasked beyond its strength, had given
way, precipitating the inmates into the shop
below. Lawyers, doctors, and merchants
ran home to get hats, then sauntered carelessly down to the scene, the most anxious of
any to know what was the matter. Everything was going off smoothly, when the curly
hair of a leading attorney was found to be liberally sprinkled with sawdust. Then the murder was out; more than one man of prominence, who the day before had been preaching
the" grand old principles of Jefferson, Jackson, and Monroe" upon the street was thus
"spotted." But the party had got a pretty
firm hold for that time, and the knowledge
gained of the personnel of the party could
not be used in time to prevent its success.
Dad was true to the Democracy in its
defeat as well as victories, and was still the
power that set the ball in motion at his own
precinct of Kanaka Bar. When a primary
meeting was to be held, he would rustle
around to get in the voters and make as imposing a meeting as possible. On one occasion I was passing the door of the store
where the primary was to be held, and Dad
came out and requested me to tell a certain
gentleman who seemed to be a little lukewarm in the cause, to be sure and come over
right away, as his presence was wanted.
My curiosity was excited to know why the
primary needed him so badly and I concluded
that although it was "none of my funeral"
I would go over too. I soon ascertained
that my friend was wanted for chairman of
the meeting, as all the other independent
voters had declined to act, and Dad was
keeping himself foot-loose for the purpose
of engineering the proceedings. The meeting was composed principally of Germans,
newly made citizens, to whom the political
machinery of a party caucus was as yet an
unknown mystery. There were three
Americans present-the prospective chairman, Dad, and Kit Jenkins. Dad nominated my friend for chairman, Kit seconded
the nomination, and when the question was
put a huge volume of ayes came from the
crowd-they could vote, anyway. Dad
[Jan.
22