The Songs of the Gold Rush [2nd printing, Reprint 2020 ed.] 9780520338616

Citation preview

Edited with

Introduction by

Richard A. Dwyer and Richard E.

Lingenfelter

Music edited with guitar arrangements

by

David Cohen

UNIVERSITY

OF

CALIFORNIA

Berkeley and Los Angeles

1965

PRESS

UNIVERSITY

OF

BERKELEY

CALIFORNIA

AND LOS

CAMBRIDGE

UNIVERSITY

LONDON,

©1964

BY

LIBRARY

THE OF

REGENTS

CONGRESS

OF

DESIGNED PRINTED

IN

THE

THE

UNIVERSITY CARD

PRINTING, BY

PRESS

ENGLAND

CATALOG

SECOND

PRESS

ANGELES

ADRIAN

UNITED

OF

NUMBER:

CALIFORNIA

64-20871

1 9 6 5 WILSON

STATES

OF

AMERICA

TO "OLD PUT

T H E C O M P I L A T I O N of these gold rush songs would not have been possible without the generous aid of John Barr Tompkins and Helen Bretnor of the Bancroft Library, University of California, Berkeley; Anne Basart of the University of California Music Library, Berkeley; Mary Schmelzle of the Sutro Library, San Francisco; and Irving Lowens of the Music Division of the Library of Congress. For their assistance in locating biographical information on the gold rush song writers, particularly John A. Stone, we are most grateful to Allan R. Ottley of the California State Library, Sacramento; James Abajian of the California Historical Society, San Francisco; Mrs. Hester Robinson of the Society of California Pioneers, San Francisco; and John W. Winkley of Walnut Creek, California. We wish also to express our thanks to Professors Wayland D. Hand, D. K. Wilgus, and Charles Seeger for their useful suggestions.

David Cohen, as music editor, wrote the final section of the Introduction, dealing with the musical settings. R. A. D. R. E. L.

I would like to thank Professor D. K. Wilgus for sharing with me his knowledge of the musical background of these songs. I am also grateful to Professor Charles Seeger, who looked through my musical settings and gave them his good-natured approval even while making it clear to me that, had he provided the settings, there would not be nearly so many fancy minor chords. DC.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

VM

Introduction HO! F O R C A L I F O R N I A ! Ho! For California! Oh, California O! California Arrival of the San Francisco California over the Left You Who Don't Believe It

1

15 17 19 20 22 24

COMING AROUND T H E HORN Coming around the Horn

29

A Ripping Trip The Fools of '49 Humbug Steamship Companies Loss of the "Central America"

31 33 34 36

CROSSING T H E PLAINS Crossing the Plains Sweet Betsey from Pike

41 43

Arrival of the Greenhorn That Is Even So! Emigrant from Pike

45 47 49

SEEING THE ELEPHANT Seeing the Elephant Joe Bowers Poker Jim Hunting after Gold We Are All A Panning An Oft-Told Tale

53 56 58 60 62 64

Away Up on the Yuba

66 CONTENTS t a r i x

W H E N I W E N T O F F TO P R O S P E C T When I Went Off To Prospect Striking a Lead Prospecting Dream Poor Diggings A Miners' Meeting He Ought To Know! Australia and the Amazon

71 73 74 76 77 79 80

AN H O N E S T M I N E R An Honest Miner The Sensible Miner The Happy Miner That's the Way To Talk It The National Miner The Pike County Miner

83 85 87 88 89 91

A L I F E BY T H E CABIN F I R E A Life by the Cabin Fire My Log Cabin Home War in Camp The Mountain Cottage The Shady Old Camp

95 97 99 100 102

L I F E IN C A L I F O R N I A Life in California The Gambler John Chinaman's Appeal City Council Rushing Panic in San Francisco John Chinaman, My Jo Couldn't Stand the Press John Chinaman The Rowdy

108 110 112 114 117 119 120 121 122

CALIFORNIA BLOOMER California Bloomer Hangtown Gals California Ball Sacramento Gals He's the Man for Me

125 126 127 129 131

x ECONTENTS

CALIFORNIA HUMBUGS California Humbugs The Steam Navigation Thieves California Stage Company California Legislature Honest John and William Relief California Bank Robbers Joaquin the Horse-Thief The Sonora Filibusters Gold Lake and Gold Bluff

136 138 140 142 143 144 147 148 149

T H E UNHAPPY M I N E R The Unhappy Miner The Lousy Miner The Vocal Miner The Miner's Lament, I The Miner's Lament, II The Miner's Lament, III

153 155 156 158 160 161

I'M SAD AND L O N E L Y H E R E I'm Sad and Lonely Here I Often Think of Writing Home The Miner's Dream And Thus He Spoke Do They Miss Me at Home? A Parody The Last Good-Bye

165 166 168 169 170 172

T H E N HURRAH FOR HOME! Then Hurrah for Home! The Miner's Farewell The Ragged Coat On Board the Steamer

175 177 179 181

C A L I F O R N I A AS I T IS AND WAS California As It Is and Was 185 Old Forty-Nine 187 The Days of '49 189 The Good Old Days of '50, '1, and '2 191 Ye Ancient Yuba Miner, of the Days of '49 .. 193 Song of the Argonauts 195 The Land We Adore 197 Oh My Darling Clementine 199 CONTENTS

xi

or not the music of California's first rush will outlast that generated by the emigration to Hollywood, we do not know. But some of the songs of the forty-niners have proved sturdy enough not only to survive a century but, during its course, to provide the bones for other songs suiting far different situations. It is folklorically relevant to confirm this claim. John A. Lomax1 collected five songs in forms essentially the same as those in "Old Put's" songsters: "The Fools of '49," "A Ripping Trip," "The Happy Miners," "The California Stage Company," and "Sweet Betsey from Pike." Three other songs he presents show considerable alteration: "The California Trail" is a greatly changed version of "Crossing the Plains," and "The Days of '49" and "Joe Bowers" appear in slightly altered form. "Joe Bowers," also printed in collections by John and Alan Lomax2 and Louise Pound,3 is, in fact, almost as general as "Sweet Betsey." Robert McReynolds records a song, sung by a miner called "Sluice Box" about the turn of the century, of which he remembers only the lines, WHETHER

I stole a dog, got whipped like hell, And away I went for Marysville. Then leave, ye miners, leave. Then leave, ye miners, leave,4

which turn out to be the last two lines of the eighth stanza and the first two lines of the chorus of "Seeing the Elephant." Black and Robertson, in their collection,5 give the words and melodies of four songs set down from oral tradition rather than from printed sources; they have recorded renditions by Leon Ponce of Columbia, Tuolumne County, of "The Days of '49," "The Lousy Miner," "Joe Bowers," and "Sweet Betsey." Cowboy Songs and Other Frontier Ballads (New York: Macmillan, 1 9 2 0 ) . American Ballads and Folk Songs (New York: Macmillan, 1 9 4 1 ) . 3American Ballads and Songs (New York: Scribner's, 1 9 2 2 ) . 4 "Rocky Mountain Folklore," Southern Folklore Quarterly, V ( 1 9 4 1 ) , 212. 5 Eleanora Black and Sidney Robertson, comps., The Gold Rush Song Book (San Francisco: Colt Press, 1 9 4 0 ) . 1

2

INTRODUCTION

1

In addition to these general survivals, other songs have maintained a local currency, but the majority, which deal with contemporary history and placer mining, have disappeared with the passing of both. As placer mining in the Mother Lode gave way to farming, lumbering, and ranching, the miners left for new mineral fields at Mono Lake, Washoe, and Pike's Peak, carrying with them their songs and popular performers. Jesse Hutchinson's "Ho! For California!" for example, was adapted to the new rush at Pike's Peak as "Cherry Creek Emigrants' Song": We'll rock our cradles around Pike's Peak In search of the dust and for nuggets seek. If the Indians ask us why we are there, We'll tell them we're made as free as the air. Then Ho, boys, ho, to Pike's Peak we'll go. There's plenty of gold In the West we are told In the new El Dorado. Other departing miners carried their songs down under to the mines in Australia, where "The Days of '49" may well have inspired a new parody, "The Days of '84," recalling the good times and rough characters at Broken Hill. Here, then, are the original songs of the gold rush —the inspiration for the latter-day versions noted above—written and sung in the mining camps of California in the first decade following the discovery of gold. Into these songs was decanted the spirit of the "Great Excitement." As "Old Put" observed in his first California songster, they give "in a few words what would occupy volumes, detailing the hopes, trials and joys of a miner's life." They exhibit in fact every facet and mood of the great rush —the voyage around the Horn or by the Panamanian isthmus, the trek across the plains, the humor and the drudgery of mining, the hopes and the disillusionment of the miners, the hardships and humbugs of life in California, and the last reminiscences of the days of '49. The mode of composition of these songs, like the way of life of their subjects, was adaptation. No forty-niner was born in California, nor were his songs ever so strange or so new as the gold he sluiced from the placers or crushed out of quartz. He mended his tunes to suit his life, and, as that life was hard, the songs were rough. Parody was the chief result. Many familiar songs composed amid more clement scenes by such favorite musicians as Stephen Foster, Dan Emmett, and Henry Russell were recut in the Mother Lode diggings of Gouge Eye, Rat Trap Slide, and Mad Canyon. Here will be found imitations of "Oh! Susanna," "Old Folks at Home," "Massa's in de Cold Ground," "My Old Kentucky Home," "Camptown Races," "Old Dog Tray," "Old Dan Tucker," "A Life on the Ocean Wave," "Woodman Spare

2

INTRODUCTION

That Tree," "Comin' Through the Rye," "New York Gals," "Wait for the Wagon," and "Pop Goes the Weasel." But their familiarity suffers an amusing contempt in transformation. Above the manly baritone of complaint and satire there is a second voice — sentimental and conventional — which praises outdoor life, motherhood, children, freedom, and the like. The suspicion that such notes are reached by shutting your eyes is the price of our sophistication. In any event, the proportion of sentiment to satire in these songs is about the same as that of gold to gangue in the average mine. That mining songs of the past and present are usually parodies has been observed by Duncan Emrich, who offers this explanation: The prospector did not have the steady saddle job of the cowboy or monotonous hours of work in the cotton fields, both of them conducive to the reflective and slow creation of a personal music. His work was difficult, tense, and exciting. His full attention was concentrated in the gold he searched for as the gamblers desire is centered in the extra ace needed to round out his hand. One does not burst into song at such moments. On Saturdays and Sundays, however, he relaxed: parodies, whether provided for him or created by him, came easily then as now." This theory, however, does not really explain why so many of the miners' songs were parodies; rather, it attempts to account for their not being work songs. Neither does Emrich's description of the prospector, or even of placer mines, seem very accurate, for a mass of forty-niner diaries and other contemporary accounts testify to the long hours of boredom and solitude endured by the placer miner working his rocker, long torn, or pan. And the same is echoed in accounts of prospecting by such writers as Dan De Quille, who tells of the long hours spent rambling among the lonely foothills prospecting by horseback. We are left, therefore, to speculate on what was sung, if anything, during these times. It seems not too improbable that prospectors sang the same parodies they heard in the saloons, for the miners' taste for the familiar-with-a-difference may have been more basic than has hitherto been suspected. A curious piece of parallel evidence, more symbolic than decisive, supports this possibility. Soulé's Annals of San Francisco' preserves the program for one of the first regular amusements presented to the citizens of that city. It announced a concert given by Stephen C. Massett and others on July 2,1849. Six songs, all sentimental ballads, are on the card, but there are also six imitations to be recited. Among them were "An imitation of an elderly lady and German girl, who applied for the situation of soprano and alto singers in f> 7

"Songs of the Western Miners," California Folklore Quarterly I (July, 1 9 4 2 ) , 214. Frank Soulé, John H. Gihon, and James Nisbet, The Annals of San Francisco (New York: Appleton& Co., 1 8 5 5 ) .

INTRODUCTION

3

one of the churches of Massachusetts"; "An imitation of the N.Y. Razor Strop Man"; and, finally, "A Yankee Town Meeting; in which Mr. Massett will give imitations of seven different persons who had assembled for the purpose of 'suppressing the press.'" Apparently, along with their diet of imported Eastern ballads and plays, the forty-niners relished a saltier draught of their own making. The parodic note seems to have been pervasive in their entertainment, and not restricted to song. We do not know if the miners maintained a habitual and unlyrical silence over their pans and long toms, but the songs they paid to hear in the canvas saloons were professionally sung and, at least originally, were not folk songs. The way in which these songs were presented is revealed in contemporary newspaper accounts. Only four months after the Monoville placers were discovered, the San Francisco Evening Bulletin8 printed this notice of Sierra entertainment: A "theatre" as it is called has been in operation [at Monoville] for some time. Mart Taylor is the feature, and his songs, to which are sung words of his own manufacture and of local adaptation, meet with great applause. His company is not large, consisting, beside himself, only of one or two others —one Joe Bowers and somebody else. The company is, in the coming spring, to be enlarged, as is the theatre. An article9 by Dan De Quille, the celebrated author and editor of the Territorial Enterprise, described his trip to Monoville in the fall of 1859. As the first signs of winter appeared, the majority of the miners hiked back over the Sierra for Mother Lode camps. Finally a meeting was called of the miners left in camp and a resolution was adopted by the terms of which all claims were to hold good without further work until June 1st, 1860. This meeting was held at the canvas saloon of Mart Taylor, famous throughout the mining towns of California in the early days for the size of his nose and his ability to string out impromptu local songs miles in length. Johnson, the author of the songs of "Joe Bowers" and "Sweet Betsey from Pike," was also present. The meeting was made the occasion of a farewell blowout. In a day or two all would scatter and depart for California. Mart Taylor had made a song for the parting, and he disposed of all the chainlightning left in his tent at a pinch of gold dust for each drink, through which many were slaughtered both physically and financially. This colorful account introduces some historical problems, such as the identity of Joe Bowers and the authorship of "Sweet Betsey from Pike," which will be discussed later. 8 9

4

Nov. 15,1859, quoting John Bowlin in the Mariposa Gazette. "The Perils of the High Sierras," Overland Monthly, IX (March, 1887), 311-322.

"«I

INTRODUCTION

Another, and doubtless important, means by which these songs were circulated was reprinting in the popular press. "California Ball," for example, was reprinted without an author attribution in the Los Angeles Star in April, 1860. But, as collectors, we are more interested in the method of preservation of the gold rush songs than in the manner of their contemporary presentation. The following bibliographical list presents the original sources for the songs of the gold rush in order of copyright date. Fawcett, George. Songs of the Miners. San Francisco, 1852. No copy of this book is known to be in existence now. Robinson, D. G. Comic Songs; or Hits at San Francisco. San Francisco: San Francisco Commercial & Job Office, 1853. Stone, John A. Put's Original California Songster. San Francisco: Appleton & Co., 1855. Appleton, David E. California Songster. San Francisco: Noisy Carriers Book and Stationery Co., 1855. A California Song Book. San Francisco, 1855. Taylor, Mart. The Gold Diggers' Song Book. Marysville: Marysville Daily Herald Printer, 1856. Maguire, Thomas. San Francisco Minstrel's Song Book. San Francisco: Monson and Valentine, 1856. Stone, John A. Put's Mountain Songster. San Francisco: Appleton & Co., 1857. Probably reissued as Put's Golden Songster: Number Two. San Francisco: Appleton & Co., 1858. . Put's Golden Songster. San Francisco: Appleton & Co., 1858. Taylor, Mart. Local Lyrics ¿r Miscellaneous Poems. San Francisco: Hutchings and Rosenfeld, 1858. Johnson, J. E. Johnson's Original Comic Songs. San Francisco: Presho & Appleton Co., 1858. Stone, John A. Put's Golden Songster: Number Three. San Francisco: Appleton & Co., 1858. . Pacific Song Book. San Francisco: Appleton & Co., 1861. None of the other musical imprints listed by Edith Coulter, "California Copyrights, 1851-1856," California Historical Society Quarterly, XXII ( March, 1943 ), 27-40, is sufficiently devoted to miners' songs to be relevant. In particular, "The California Pioneers," by Dr. M. A. Richter, the first piece of music published in California ( March 19, 1852 ), is an uninspired composition unrelated to the gold rush. San Francisco Quadrilles, by George Peck ( April 16, 1852 ), is a collection of "Negro melodies for the pianoforte." Also irrelevant to this compilation are the few broadsides listed: "Gentle Mary Hand," "Clear the Way, or Song of the Wagon Road," and "He Fell at His Post Doing Duty." Between the decade that produced the first gold rush songs and the past thirty years, when more responsible collections were made, there appeared

INTRODUCTION

5

a number of compilations of genuine and spurious, good and bad "gold rush" songs. Bibliographical entries for many of these volumes may be found in the sources given at the end of each song in this book. More important, however, are four recent collections. Songs of the Gold Miners, by Sterling Sherwin and Louis Katzman (pseuds.), with introduction by Beth Moore (New York: C. Fisher, 1932), is a soft-cover volume offering twenty lyrics edited and revised and provided with new musical settings. The editors have retitled many of the songs after editing out racial and anti-Mormon sentiments. A good collection in a limited edition is The Gold Rush Song Book (San Francisco: Colt Press, 1940), compiled by Eleanora Black and Sidney Robertson. It presents twenty-five songs with music from contemporary sources. The brief introduction focuses on the probable mode of rendition of the songs. Hangtown Ballads (Georgetown, Calif.: The Fortyniner, 1949), compiled by Cornel Lengyel, gives the words of thirty songs and the music for four of them. Some of the songs have been edited on the principles used in the Sherwin and Katzman volume. The most extensive of these earlier collections was prepared with the assistance of the Works Progress Administration. Entitled "A San Francisco Songster, 1849-1939," History of Music in San Francisco Series, Volume Two (mimeographed; March, 1939), it was edited by Cornel Lengyel. It contains about forty songs relevant to our theme. Unfortunately, music is provided for only nine of the songs, and wherever possible the editor seems to have used the modern arrangements of Sherwin and Katzman. The appendices are very useful. For further study we recommend, in addition to the periodical articles mentioned in footnotes, three unpublished collections: "Bar-Room Ballads of the Fifties," compiled by Mildred M. Wiley, collected by Margaret A. Kelly (Bancroft Library, University of California, Berkeley); Phil S. Grant, "The Songs of the Forty-Niners" (M.A. thesis, University of California, Berkeley, 1924); and Jeannette Miller, "Folk Songs of California" (M.A. thesis, University of California, Berkeley, 1937). An account of some of the writers of gold rush songs, and of the circumstances under which the songs were written, will give more life to the bibliographical listing. The first gold rush song was written as the first wave of gold seekers left New England. In November, 1848, John Nichols, bound for California on the bark Eliza, penned the parody "Oh, California" to the tune of Stephen Foster's newly popular "Oh! Susanna." The parody quickly caught on among the would-be argonauts, and, as new groups organized, they adopted variations of it as their company songs. Others wrote entirely new lyrics, such as "O! California," composed by Captain Isaac W. Baker of the Beverly Joint Stock San Francisco Company, whose members sailed on the bark San Francisco in August, 1849. Baker's second song, "Arrival of the San Francisco," provides a glimpse into the fate of the majority of such companies

6

-Wi

INTRODUCTION

upon their arrival at the mines. Another song popular among the argonauts was "Ho! For California," or "The Californian," written early in 1849 by Jesse Hutchinson of the famous Hutchinson Family Singers. The first gold rush song actually written in California, however, was David G. Robinson's "Seeing the Elephant," an amusing review of conditions at the mines. Robinson, a New England road-show trouper, established one of San Francisco's earliest theatrical houses, the Dramatic Museum, in 1850. On March 23 of that year he presented his first play, Seeing the Elephant, a locally adapted version of a popular Eastern satire on the gold rush, to which he added a new title song. This and some of his later songs, "Life in California," "The Miner's Lament," and "City Council," found immediate popularity in San Francisco and the mines. In 1853 they were published in Comic Songs; or Hits at San Francisco. Robinson's theater, plays, and songs all achieved great success. In the summer of 1856, at the height of his career, while sailing to the East Coast to present his latest play, California, Past, Present and Future, he was stricken with ship fever and died. By far the largest number and the most popular of the gold rush songs, however, were written by John A. Stone or, as he preferred to be known, "Old Put." Among his songs is no less a folk favorite than "Sweet Betsey from Pike." Although we accept Louise Pound's conclusion that John Stone is the author of "Sweet Betsey," we deny her claim that he also wrote "Joe Bowers."1" This matter will be more fully discussed later. Little is known of Put's early history, except that he came overland to California in 1850. A few writers believe that he came from Pike County, Missouri, because he made a number of references in his songs to the denizens of Pike. Many other writers of gold rush songs, however, did the same, and it is doubtful that they all came from Pike. On his arrival in California, Put at first went to mining. His luck was no better than the average until the summer of 1853, when he discovered near Columbia a single block of gold-bearing quartz weighing more than 700 pounds and worth some $15,000. With this fortune he retired from mining and devoted himself to his favorite pastime of improvising new and topical songs to the accompaniment of his guitar. He soon organized a small troupe, the Sierra Nevada Rangers, to tour the mining camps of the Mother Lode. Their entire repertoire of humorous and satirical songs were written by Old Put out of his experiences in the mines. The popularity of these songs prompted him to publish them in 1855 in a pocket-size paperback, The Original California Songster, in whose preface he wrote: In dedicating this little Book of Songs to the Miners of California, those hardy builders of California's prosperity and greatness, the author deems it 10

"Yet Another Joe Bowers," Western Folklore, XVI (April, 1 9 5 7 ) , 111-120.

INTRODUCTION

IS-

7

his duty to offer a prefatory remark in regard to the origin of the work and the motive of its publication. Having been a miner himself for a number of years, he has had ample opportunities of observing, as he has equally shared, the many trials and hardships to which his brethren of the pick and shovel have been exposed, and to which in general they have so patiently, so cheerfully, and even heroically submitted. Hence, ever since the time of his crossing the Plains, in the memorable year of '50, he has been in the habit of noting down a few of the leading items of his experience, and clothing then in the garb of humorous, though not irreverent verse. Many of his songs may show some hard edges, and he is free to confess, that they may fail to please the more aristocratic portion of the community, who have but little sympathy with the details, hopes, trials and joys of the toiling miner's life; but he is confident that the class he addresses will not find them exaggerated, nothing extenuated, nor aught set down "in malice." In conclusion, he would state, that after having sung them himself at various times and places, and latterly with the assistance of a few gentlemen, known by the name of Sierra Nevada Rangers, the songs have been published at the request of a number of friends; and if the author should thereby succeed in contributing to the amusement of those he is anxious to please, enlivening the long tedious hours of a miner's winter fireside, his pains will not be unrewarded. San Francisco, Sept., 1855 Old Put's songs were so successful that his book ultimately went into its fifth edition, with a total printing of 25,000 copies. As indicated by the advertising, his most popular songs were "The Fools of '49," "Arrival of the Greenhorn," "Sweet Betsey from Pike," "Hangtown Gals," and "Emigrant from Pike." In 1858 Stone published an additional selection of his songs in Put's Golden Songster, further remarking: I have endeavored to portray, as graphically as possible, LIFE IN CALIFORNIA, at a time when the restraints of society had to some extent become released; and I can only imagine —from the success which has attended my humble efforts — that I have "held the mirror up to Nature"; and if the reflections to some may seem harsh, I have only to say that your recognition of their truthfulness has incited me to this characteristic production, and that I have "nothing extenuated nor set down aught in malice." These latter sentiments were undoubtedly directed at Mart Taylor, who, in publishing a rival songster, had piously remarked: "I trust that those who may deem them [i.e., his own songs] worthy of possessing, will appreciate one quality they have above the only other song book heretofore dedicated to the Miners of California. I refer to the indiscreet use of vulgar phrases, which characterize the said Song Book; which, I am happy to believe, is not

8

INTRODUCTION

suited to the tastes of my friends, the miners." Taylor's mining friends seem not to have concurred, for they gave to his songster not a tenth of the patronage they accorded to Old Put's. Despite the success of his songs, Put's fate was tragic. When the rich placers began to give out and most of the miners moved to new diggings, he retired to a small log cabin at Greenwood, some sixteen miles north of Placerville. Unquestionably the sadness and loneliness expressed in some of his later songs mirrored his own feelings, for he became very despondent and took to drinking heavily. Finally, on January 24, 1863 or 1864, he ended his life. Most of the other songs of the gold rush period were also written by members of minstrel troupes in California, such as Mart Taylor of Taylor's Original Minstrel Company, and J. E. Johnson, John Woodward, and Charley-Rhodes (Charles Bensell) of Johnson's troupe, the Pennsylvanians. Taylor's songs, "Poor Diggings," "The Pike County Miner," "John Chinaman's Appeal," "California Humbugs," and "Old Forty-Nine," were all published at Marysville in his Gold Diggers' Song Book (1856). The popular "Ragged Coat," apparently written by Woodward and Johnson, was published in 1860 in Johnsons Original Comic Songs. In the same volume appeared "Joe Bowers." Louise Pound's ascription of "Joe Bowers" to John Stone11 rests mainly on the efforts of J. W. Winkley of Greenwood, California, to make something of a local hero of Old Put. He regards Stone's authorship as a self-evident proposition. But the facts that Stone never printed "Joe Bowers" in any of his songsters, and that there is no record that he ever claimed the song as his own, considerably weaken that argument. In fact, Winkley establishes a connection between the man and the song only in that some old-timers of the Greenwood area knew Stone as "Joe Bowers" or "Old Put." Miss Pound's conjecture that an early broadside printing of the song, now lost, precluded Stone's placing it in his collections of "original" songs is hypothetical and unconvincing. In her view, Woodward's claim is second best. Because Winkley's evidence is suspect or irrelevant, Woodward rises a quarter turn on Fame's wheel, and, we think, deserves credit by default. A fair number of songs of unknown authorship were published in D. E. Appleton's California Songster in 1855, but some of the "gold rush" songs most widely known today —"The Days of '49," "Ye Ancient Yuba Miner," and "Oh My Darling Clementine"— were written a good many years later. Charley Rhodes's "The Days of '49," though possibly written in the late 1850's or early 1860's, did not appear in print until 1872, when some of the lyrics were published by Emerson's minstrel troupe in New York. The complete song with original music was finally published in San Francisco in 1876, only a year before Rhodes's death. "Ye Ancient Yuba Miner"— a lengthy pun on the local pronunciation "Yu-bee"— as well as "Song of the Argonauts" and "The Land We Adore," was written by argonaut Samuel Upham for pioneer society 11

Ibid. INTRODUCTION

VW

9

meetings in the late 1870's. Percy Montrose's "Oh My Darling Clementine" is a renegade written in 1884 solely as a college song, but nonetheless demands inclusion among the songs of the gold rush. In all, eighty-eight of the songs of the gold rush are presented here, roughly grouped by subject matter or mood. All but a few of them are set to the music to which they were originally written and sung. The lyrics are printed without music if the tune was either not specified or could not be located. The tunes used here have been gathered almost entirely from mid-nineteenth century songbooks and music; a few were found in later folk-song collections. Sources for words and music are given at the end of each song; a list of abbreviated references to the sources used most often follows this introduction. The student of folk music will readily see that the chords suggested for these songs are not traditional. That is, they are not drawn from the harmonic vocabulary of either of the two American traditions of folk-guitar accompaniment: Negro street music, and white hillbilly music. The reasons are simple. The songs in this book, for the most part, are not folk songs. They were literary and ephemeral, and few of them entered into oral tradition. The words were written by professional broadside composers, and the tunes either were composed with the words or were borrowed from current popular or minstrel songs. The style of performance was probably closer to popular than to folk music. These were songs sung in saloons or on the stage, with piano accompaniment by professional entertainers. There is every reason to believe that they were delivered in the same manner as Stephen Foster's popular songs, and not at all in the manner of mountain or plantation folk music. Some of the gold rush songs, to be sure, did enter oral tradition, such as "Sweet Betsey from Pike" and "Joe Bowers." Others used folk tunes; "Crossing the Plains" was sung to the tune of "Caroline of Edinburgh" and "He's the Man for Me" used the tune of "Rosin the Bow." For the most part, however, these songs were rather topical popular songs than folk songs, even though their fascination for us as historical documents is similar to that of folk music. Thus the basic chord vocabulary I have used comes from the nineteenthcentury popular tradition: diatonic chords, for the most part, and simple chromatic chords where the melody demands or the harmonic progression indicates. I have deviated from the conventional chords in the use of secondary triads. The tunes are not so alive for us as they must have been for the miners, and I have added the various diatonic minor chords where I thought the added color welcome. The guitar is, of course, an anachronism. It was not part of American folk and popular music until the twentieth century. It seems reasonable to assume, however, that those who use this book will be more likely to have a guitar at hand than a piano.

10

^J

INTRODUCTION

The guitar necessitates a different approach to accompaniment from that for a piano. The harmonic rhythm is generally slower for the guitar, and it is awkward and unidiomatic for it to change chords more than once a measure. The piano can change smoothly on every beat, but it is far better for the guitar to preserve one harmony and let the melody notes function as passing tones, appoggiaturas, and so forth. Only when the melody demands is there more than one chord to a measure. Finally, the chords I have used are merely suggestions. The reader whose knowledge or taste leads him to other accompaniments is to be encouraged.

INTRODUCTION

11

ABBREVIATED REFERENCES American Songs: Damon, S. Foster. Series of Old American Songs, Reproduced in Facsimile from Original or Early Editions in the Harris Collection of American Poetry and Plays. Providence, R.I.: Brown University, 1936. Argonauts: Howe, Octavius T. Argonauts of '49. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1923. California Songster: Appleton, David E. California Songster. San Francisco: Noisy Carriers Book and Stationery Co., 1855. Comic Hits: Robinson, D. G. Comic Songs; or Hits at San Francisco. San Francisco: San Francisco Commercial & Job Office, 1853. Comic Songs: Turner, J. W., E. T. Bates, et al. 100 Comic Songs. San Francisco: A. Kohler, 1858. Diggers' Song Book: Taylor, Mart. The Gold Diggers' Song Book. Marysville: Marysville Daily Herald Printer, 1856. Golden Songster: Stone, John A. Put's Golden Songster. San Francisco: Appleton & Co., 1858. Golden Wreath: Emerson, L. O. The Golden Wreath: A Choice Collection of Favorite Melodies. Boston: Oliver Ditson & Co., 1857. Good Old Songs: The Good Old Songs We Used To Sing. Vol. I. Boston: Oliver Ditson & Co., 1887. Green Mountain: Flander, H. H., E. F. Ballard, G. Brown, and P. Barry. The New Green Mountain Songster. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1939. Johnson's Comic Songs: Johnson, J. E. Johnsons New Comic Songs, No. 2. San Francisco: D. E. Appleton & Co., 1863. Johnson's Songs: Johnson, J. E. Johnson's Original Comic Songs. San Francisco: Presho & Appleton Co., 1858. Minstrel Songs: Minstrel Songs, Old ir New. Boston: Oliver Ditson & Co., 1882. Original California Songster: Stone, John A. Put's Original California Songster. San Francisco: Appleton & Co., 1855. Scotland: Mackay, Charles, and Pittman and Colin Brown. The Songs of Scotland. London: Boosey & Co., 1877. Temperance Songster: Young, James, and S. W. Leonard. The National Temperance Songster. Cincinnati: Applegate & Co., 1855. Violin Primer: The Violin Primer. [Published ca. 1850; cover and title page missing. In the collection of William Broderson, Sutter's Fort, Sacramento.] Yankee Doodle: Vernon, Grenville. Yankee Doodle-Doo: A Collection of Songs of the Early American Stage. New York: Payson & Clark, 1927. Yesterday: Jordan, Philip D., and Lillian Kessler. Songs of Yesterday. Garden City: Doubleday, Doran & Co., 1941.

12

ABBREVIATED

REFERENCES

W E F O R E they realized that mining gold is much like any other business, requiring hard work and yielding about 6 per cent on the investment, the first forty-niners watched their unrealistically high hopes plummet into a correspondingly deep despair. From the extremes of a fool's paradise where imaginary nuggets started from the rocks and leapt into their pockets, and, later, a fool's perdition of cutthroats and politicians lurking beyond every fire, the miners rescued enough objectivity to mock these attitudes in song. In these selections both the enthusiasm and the pessimism appear. "Ho! For California" exhibits some of the idealistic fervor of the converted pilgrim. The tone of its last stanza and the chorus is more appropriate to one fleeing Egyptian bondage than to one seeking El Dorado, as if the miners sought to serve God and Mammon too: "No slave shall toil on God's Free Soil, / On the banks of the Sacramento." Yet concern for the exclusion of slavery from California was a very real problem. In February, 1849, two public meetings in San Francisco resolved that their delegates to a statehood convention were "by all honorable means to oppose any act. . . calculated to further the introduction of domestic slavery into the territory of California." Still another side to equality under the law is to be found in the chaotic individualism lamented in "Arrival of the San Francisco," whose refrain suggests what probably went on at gold rush assemblies: "For 'twas talk, talk, growl, growl, talk, talk away, / The devil a bit of comfort's here in California." The deepest dissent, however, appears in "California over the Left": "Here respect is paid to none, / That have not gold in store, / And favors are by interest done — / To be criminal is to be poor." Although much of the early talk hopped between cheers and grumbling, one tone the miners seem to have settled on in their attempt to bring the wilderness to heel was sheer "tall" talk: "I'll scrape the mountains clean, my boys, / I'll drain the rivers dry, / A pocketful of rocks bring home — / So brothers don't you cry!" And, from another song: "We raise the largest cabbage heads, / Got more and better feather beds; / Of everything we've got the best, / And thieves until you cannot rest." Later selections will reveal the miners' songs obeying the evolutionary principle of specialization as they discriminate among their several grievances and few rewards, but these six songs fix the major tones and themes.

14"®

HO!

FOR

CALIFORNIA!

Air: D e Boatman D a n c e J. Hutchinson

D. D. E m m e t t

C

o ,

,

C

J> 1 J»

I

We've

o

J.>

formed our

> I

band

^

>

M >

jour_ney

a_far

F,

C

J> rich

.

h

I to

^

ft

in store, On

J)

are

mann'd,

, C

L

,

F,

^

ft

1

the

, C

Y

i)

ftiTi

,

banks of the Sac

J j

ft

ho!

j) N

i-

Bro_thersho!

J'lji To

ra_men_to

j»

^

j>

jjj>

j , *ft' '—T jilj

Cal

world were told, On 1/f

r

i_for_nia

shore.

way

we

go,

Dig _ g i n g

Then,

up

1

— t * — i J ) «P gold

in

é

ftjjiJg

F

y men

» JJ

There's plen_tyof gold in the

C

^

- t o — - p J1

y jJ,) Ift *

go.

the banks of the Sac_ra c I L

P

>

is

c

G j>

ore

CHORUS

°

é

To

^ ^ h ~f

ft

hift

Ji

^

well

the pro _mised land, Where the gold _ en F,

;i

^

and

C ^

C

i r

to.

Heigh

J) Fran

f - M O,

and a

K J' cis

co.

2 O! don't you cry, nor heave a sigh, F o r we'll all come back again, bye and bye, Don't breathe a fear, nor shed a tear, But patiently wait for about two year.

3 As the gold is thar, most any whar, And they dig it out with an iron bar, And where 'tis thick, with a spade or pick, T h e y can take out lumps as heavy as brick.

4 As we explore that distant shore,— We'll fill our pockets with the shining ore; And how 'twill sound, as the word goes round, Of our picking up gold by the dozen pound.

HO!

FOR C A L I F O R N I A ! ® -

15

5 W e expect our share of the coarsest fare, And sometimes to sleep in the open air, Upon the cold ground we shall all sleep sound Except when the wolves are howling round.

6 As off we roam over the dark sea foam, We'll never forget our friends at home For memories kind will bring to mind The thoughts of those we leave behind. 7 In the days of old, the Prophets told Of the City to come, all framed in gold, Peradventure they foresaw the day, Now dawning in California.

8 O! the land we'll save, for the bold and b r a v e Have determined there never shall breathe a slave; Let foes recoil, for the sons of toil Shall make California GOD'S F R E E SOIL. CHORUS:

Then, ho! Brothers ho! to California go, No slave shall toil on God's Free Soil, On the banks of the Sacramento. Heigh O, and away we go, Chanting our songs of Freedom, O.

Text: Book of Words of the Hutchinson Family ( New York: Baker, Godwin & Co., 1851 ) ; Argonauts. Music: "De Boatman Dance," American Songs. Transposed from F to C.

1 6 - « I HO! FOR

CALIFORNIA!

Air: Oh! Susanna J. Nichols

S. C. Foster

|ÉÉi

B>

éJk

U

Ì

I

P

J

f,l lp

ft

v w

P

came from S a _ l e m

Cit

y,

Jill'

f' J t J . l l

[JI

W i t h my wash_bowl on my knee,

I'm

B7

^

v> go

j* ing

p

p

to

f, 1 r ,

Cal

i

for

J»

ji

nia,

The

js| js|

golcLdust for

to

d

I"J see,

1

It

Bi

p

P

If

rained all night

h IJ»

e p

the day

I

o

Ijfffi* ^

p so

A

p

p 1P

hot

to

fr death.

C H ORUSj

jU

i

Oh,

I J'

Cal

i

for

nia,

E

ft

ft

That's

V

bound for

San

v

ifr

Fran_cis_co

ft

the

you

B

Jh

— s. 4-

land

for

B7

P

The

b r o _ t h e r s , don't

P' fr Oh,

was d r y .

E

•1 5 cry!

it

h I J.

8|

^

froze

^

l e f t , The w e a _ t h e r

E,

sun

J'

—

•

—

J- J - l me!

I'm

E_

3= W i t h my

wash_bowl on

my

knee-

2 I jumped aboard the 'Liza ship And traveled on the sea, And everytime I thought of home I wished it wasn't me! The vessel reared like any horse That had of oats a wealth; I found it wouldn't throw me, so I thought I'd throw myself!

OH,

CALIFORNIA

X3F 1 7

3 I thought of all the pleasant times We've had together here, I thought I ought to cry a bit, But couldn't find a tear. T h e pilot's bread was in my mouth, T h e gold dust in my eye, And though I'm going far away, Dear brothers don't you cry! 4 I soon shall be in Frisco, And there I'll look around, And when I see the Gold lumps there I'll pick them off the ground. I'll scrape the mountains clean, my boys, I'll drain the rivers dry, A pocketful of rocks bring h o m e So brothers don't you cry!

Text: Out West, XXI (Sept., 1904), 272-273. Music: "Oh! Susanna," Comic Songs. Transposed from G to E.

18=® OH,

CALIFORNIA

Air: Oh! Susanna I. W. Baker The San Francisco Company, For San Francisco bound, Our barque is San Francisco too, The same name all around. A Company of jolly boys As ever got together, All bound for California, In spite of wind and weather. CHORUS:

O! California, We'll see you bye and bye If we've good luck, and if we don't, Why, bless you, don't you cry.

2 W e started from Old Beverly, Mid cheers from great and small, We hope to get back bye and bye When we'll return them all. The day we left the wind was fair, And pleasant was the sky, The fair sex wept, the boys hurrahed And we'd no time to cry.

3 W e doubled close 'round Beverly bar, 'Twas close upon our lee, W e then hove to and called the roll And squared away for sea. We've forty men in Company, A cook and steward too, We've twenty pigs, a dog and cat, And what is that to you.

4 Now here's success you'll surely say, To all you willing souls, And may you have the joyful chance, Of filling all your bowls. But not just yet, but bye and bye And full of glittering ore, And then return to where you wish And never want for more.

Text: Argonauts. Music: "Oh! Susanna," Comic Songs.

O ! CALIFORNIA

ET- 1 9

Air: The Washing Day I. W. Baker A7

# 1

b

j* The

G t'

Sac _ r a _ m e n _ t o

J'

has

f)

the car _ go

out and

£ M

For

like

all

D E

'twas

talk,

D

I *

^

^

y

talk,

that

J'

is

ter_ing

Gj ,h

not

y

J v

has

had a

D |

y

growl, growl, talk,

G

the worst,

i

J)

h

bit

of

com_fort's here

talk

a

A\ in

Cal

way,

£

i_for_ni

2

But talk, talk, etc. 3 We'd forty men of forty minds, instead of one alone, And each wished to convert the rest but still preferred his own. Now in some places this might do, but here it won't, you see, For independence is the word in Californi-e. And you may talk, talk, etc.

OF THE

SAN

FRANCISCO

n i The

burst.

A7 J.

While on the passage all was well and every thing was nice, And if there was a civil growl, 'twas settled in a trice, But here example has been set by Companies before, Who'd all dissolved and nothing less, so we did nothing more.

20 ' S ARRIVAL

The

j

talk and

^ Ë É iI

gold.

D J^

the rest,

D dev

£

^

A7

£

£

") y

fr

È

> p p i p p i> j j G

CHORUS

^

A1

D

Com _ pan _ y

^

of which I've of_ten told, At

a r _ rived in search of glit

* ji

bark hauled in,

jh

A1

k

I ±

b i> j\\

San Fran_cis _ co Com.pan_y,

D

i

h b

The

D a.

4 At first the price of lumber fell, which made it bad for us, Some wished to sell and some did not, which made the matter worse, Some longed to start into the mines and let the barkey stay, While others said it wouldn't do for all to go away. For 'twas talk, talk, etc.

5 Some longed to get their ounce a day, while others knew they couldn't, And wished to share and keep all square, but then the workers wouldn't. A meeting of the whole was called, the question put and tried, Our constitution voted down, our by-laws null and void. For 'twas talk, talk, etc.

6 Now carpenters can take a job and work for what they please, And those who do not like to work can loaf and take their ease, And squads can form for traveling or any thing they choose, And if they don't a fortune make, they'll not have it to lose, And can chat, chat, sing, sing, chat, chat away, And take all comfort that they can in Californi-a.

7 Now whether it's good or bad, since time alone can show, The deed is done with our consent and that at least we know, So let us all contented be and do the best we can, And may a fortune be in store for every honest man. Chat, chat, sing, sing, chat, chat away. And leave for home whene'er he likes from Californi-a.

Text: Argonauts. Music: "The Washing Day," Yesterday. Transposed from G to D.

ARRIVAL

OF

THE

SAN

FRANCISCO®"

21

b y e e

T K I

Jack the Grumbler Oh, California, land of gold, Many a heart has come to thee, When thy richness has been told, Over every land, through every sea, 2 Where there is one thy wealth made glad, Who to thy shores did roam; There are twenty it is made sad, And curse the hour they had come.

3 But still unto you from every land, Does the emigration flow, Beckon'd by thy golden hand To misery and woe. 4 The wealth that is hidden in thy soil, Where ages it had laid, It's only got through fatigue and toil, And then but few are paid.

5 If upon thy native shore you can Earn your daily bread, Stay, and you will be thought a man, But here that title is dead.

6 Here respect is paid to none, That have not gold in store, And favors are by interest done— To be criminal is to be poor.

7 But if in preacher's garb come you, Here the Lord to praise, Your impudence may carry you through, And superstition give you a raise.

8 Lawyers, too, can do well here, If they can steal and lie, And God nor man they do not fear, No others need not try. 22

CALIFORNIA

OVER

THE

LEFT

U R F F

9 Or if elected you could be, No talents does it need, To our Senate or Assembly, Your constituents do not heed. 10 Remember you did not hither roam, Upon the laws to doat, But to enrich your Atlantic home, By selling of your vote. 11 Of Editors we have enough To poison all the State, With their slander and their puff Of those they love and hate. 12 If not of those talents you are possest, But honestly inclined, Stay where you have both peaceful rest, For that here you cannot find.

13 Be advised by me this is not the spot, The World to you has told, Its wealthiest days are now forgot, Like the El Dorado of old.

Text: California

Songster.

CALIFORNIA

OVER

THE

L E F T XS' 2 3

v

a t w r i ' T B ® Air: Blue Tail Fly

J. A. Stone

$

Jh

£

£ There

r44

k Ì

tains

]

is

no L

k

the

same

land L

G

V

a

mount

on

up.

J of

f,

worth; And

5= K———h J — —k — h m - >K——i ht— — j - >——hi - 1— here

re

, Qà .chorus CHORUS You

who

side,

Had

t

,.

don't

be

7

G

You who don't

ought

freeze the

y 0 lieve

C

be

tc

lieve

the

r,

he

\j

earth,

You who

ji

that

could

— S -^ j — — \ — -i — — i

o

ther

G don't

be

lieve

D

it,

Come your_selves and

2 We've got more gold than all the world, A flag that wins whene'er unfurled, And smarter men to help us through, Than England, France or Mexico.

3 We've smarter ships than Johnny Bull, Larger sheep with finer wool; A prison too! you cannot fail To throw a Bull through by the tail.

4

We raise the largest cabbage heads, Got more and better feather beds; Of everything we've got the best, And thieves until you cannot rest.

5

All ruffianism now is o'er, The country's safer than before; Our cities keep the rowdies straight, Or send them through the Golden Gate.

24 H YOU WHO d o n ' t b e l i e v e

it

?s-

side!

7

«

not

.

£ 5 5 it,

Con

it,

G

see!

6 W e ' v e got the highest mountains here, Taller trees and faster deer, And travel more, at higher rates, Than people in the Eastern States.

7 We've got the smartest river boats, And, ten to one, old whisky bloats; We're blest with very heavy fogs, And any amount of poodle dogs!

8 We've got a f e w unmarried g'hals, Railroads, ditches and canals; Although w e did repudiate, A joke 'twas only to create.

9 T o one and all, both young and old, You're welcome to the land of gold; So come along, be not afraid, W e guarantee you all well paid!

Text: Golden Songster. Music: "Blue Tail Fly," Minstrel Songs.

YOU

WHO

DON'T

BELIEVE

IT

XW

25

SOnS MÛUP TgE1081

DOWN-EAST fortune-teller could forecast the fate of a prospective gold-rusher about to take the Panama passage with distressing accuracy by turning up the card for "Death-by-Drowning." The earliest trips made around the Horn were often fatal. Between 1851 and 1853, eleven passenger steamers were lost in the reckless competition of the San Francisco run. But even after the establishment of the steam monopolies to carry migrants by the Panama route, disasters still occurred. Two of these later wrecks are celebrated by songs in this group. The Yankee Blade, operated by the Independent Opposition Line, had gone down off Mexico on October 1, 1854, with a loss of thirty lives and $153,000. The Golden Gate, run by the Pacific Mail Steamship Company, had been its chief competitor and held the fastest record from San Francisco to Panama — 11 days and 4 hours. With ominous foreboding the chorus to "Humbug Steamship Companies" chants, "The Golden Gate is going down to beat the Yankee Blade." And the prediction came true on July 27, 1862, when the Golden Gate burned at sea with a loss of 223 lives and $1,400,000. The Central America (formerly the George Law), operated by the United States Mail Steamship Company between New York and the isthmus, foundered at sea in September, 1857, in a severe gale, with a loss of 423 lives and $8,000,000 in California gold dust. In some respects the victims had an easier time than the survivors. John Stone's vigorous descriptions of the voyage center on the bill of fare: "rusty pork and stinking beef, and rotten, wormy bread." Dessert consisted of " 'duff but once a month, and twice a day a squall." Those who survived the "mouldy hash" could count on having their baggage thrown overboard when the ship docked in Panama. The vivid complaints uttered in these songs of the argonauts acquire a heavy irony by being set to such tunes as "Carry Me Back to Ole Virginny" and "Dearest Mae."

28"fa

COMING

AROUND

THE

HORN

Air: Dearest Mae

m

J. A. Stone

L. V. H. Crosby

p

ji

P

P

Now m i n _ e r s ,

h —

M p

if

you'll

\

bout the

—

voy_age

r

lis

ten,

I'll

\) —t

•)s

,

l)

P

h

h

teli you quite a ih—1 5 F =

É '

a_roundCape Horn, they call

a

sp

tale, G

pleas_ant

V 7

sail;

A.

« We

fi

^

b

P

»bought a Qi

C

K

*

P

P

P

ship, and 1

P

had

rU

re_mem_ber

er sailed in hr-

well

bright,

it

J ^ i

,

L

,

1 J'

r l p so

J^

'

IJ

Y ^

her stowed with hous_es, tools and grub, ,

r

gold

P

^ DL

cursed the day we ev

I

P

the h

4 lies h ^

^

L j)

^

they used u J

CHORUS

J '

N

the poor old r o t _ t e n

j

G

But

tub.

E J^

f

f

to

Of

tell,

O

k 1k 1V—i 4 —

hurt the sight, and made the

Oh,

a

min_ers

yel

2 W e left old New York city, with the weather very thick, The second day we puked up boots, oh, wusn't we all sea-sick! I swallowed pork tied to a string, which made a dreadful shout, I felt it strike the bottom, but I could not pull it out.

3

W e all were owners in the ship, and soon began to growl, Because we hadn't ham and eggs, and now and then a fowl; W e told the captain what to do, as him we had to pay, The captain swore that he was boss, and we should him obey.

4

W e lived like hogs penned up to fat, our vessel was so small, W e had a "duff" but once a month, and twice a day a squall; A meeting now and then was held, which kicked up quite a stink, The captain damned us fore and aft, and wished the box would sink.

COMING

AROUND

THE

HORN

29

5 Off Cape Horn, where we lay becalmed, kind Providence seemed to frown, We had to stand up night and day, none of us dared sit down; For some had half a dozen boils, 'twas awful, sure's you're born, But some would try it on the sly, and got pricked by the Horn.

6 We stopped at Valparaiso, where the women are so loose, And all got drunk as usual, got shoved in the Calaboose; Our ragged, rotten sails were patched, the ship made ready for sea, But every man, except the cook, was up town on a spree.

7 We sobered off, set sail again, on short allowance, of course, With water thick as castor oil, and stinking beef much worse; We had the scurvy and the itch, and any amount of lice, The medicine chest went overboard, with bluemass, cards and dice.

8 We arrived at San Francisco, and all went to the mines, We left an agent back to sell our goods of various kinds; A friend wrote up to let us know our agent, Mr. Gates, Had sold the ship and cargo, sent the money to the States.

Text: Original California Songster. Music: "Dearest Mae," Comic Songs.

30

COMING

AROUND

THE

HORN

ÄW W

THF

Air: Pop Goes the Weasel

£

m

You

go

a _ board of

a

You've got

"l

to

pump to

r fr r fr

jin_go.

The en_gine soon be

f h r l — 1 — n

L7

t — }

her; l m _ p o s _ s i _ b l e

leak

D

A

eis _ co;

Ml

E

w

1

V-

y

gins

for San Fran.

G,

£

keep her

o -

boat/ And sail

£

S

5

a—float,

^ — -

A

iv -

You have that, by

D

^

to squeak, But nar_y — i -

to stop the leak.

f\ — TJ Rjß

V-

goes the

thing

to

u

=J=i boil_er.

The captain on the promenade, Looking very savage; Steward and the cabin maid Fighting 'bout a cabbage; All about the cabin floor, Passengers lie sea-sick — Steamer's bound to go ashore — Rip goes the physic! "Pork and beans" they can't afford, To second cabin passengers; The cook has tumbled overboard With forty pounds of "sassengers"; The engineer, a little tight, Bragging on the Main Line, Finally gets into a fight — Rip goes the enginel

4 Cholera begins to rage, A few have got the scurvy; Chickens dying in their cage — Steerage topsy-turvy. When you get to Panama, Greasers want a back-load; Officers begin to jaw — Rip goes the railroad!

A RIPPING TRIP

31

When home, you'll tell an awful tale, And always will be thinking How long you had to pump and bail, To keep the tub from sinking. Of course, you'll take a glass of gin, 'Twill make you feel so funny; Some city sharp will rope you in — Rip goes your money!

Text: Golden Songster. Music: "Pop Goes the Weasel," Violin Primer. Transposed from C to D.

32

A RIPPING

TRIP

TIE m i s

OF ' 4 !

Air: Commence, You Darkies All J. A. Stone When gold was found in '48, the people said 'twas gas, And some were fools enough to think the lumps were only brass; But soon they all were satisfied, and started off to mine, They bought their ships, came round the Horn, in the fall of '49. CHORUS:

Then they thought of what they had been told, When they started after gold, That they never in the world would make a pile.

2 The people all were crazy then, they didn't know what to do, They sold their farms for just enough to pay their passage through; They bid their friends a long farewell; said, "Dear wife, don't you cry, I'll send you home the yellow lumps a piano for to buy." 3 The poor, the old and rotten scows, were advertised to sail From New Orleans with passengers, but they must pump and bail; The ships were crowded more than full, and some hung on behind, And others dived off from the wharf, and swam till they were blind. 4 With rusty pork and stinking beef, and rotten, wormy bread, And captains, too, that never were up as high as the main-mast head, The steerage passengers would rave and swear that they'd paid their passage, And wanted something more to eat besides Bologna sausage. 5 Then they began to cross the plains with oxen, hollowing "haw"; And steamers they began to run as far as Panama, And there for months the people staid that started after gold, And some returned disgusted with the lies that had been told.

6 T h e people died on every route, they sicken'd and died like sheep, And those at sea, before they were dead, were launched into the deep; And those that died while crossing the Plains fared not so well as that, For a hole was dug and they thrown in, along the miserable Platte. 7 The ships at last began to arrive, and the people began to inquire: "They say that flour is a dollar a pound, do you think it will be any higher?" And then to carry their blankets and sleep out-doors, it seemed so droll, Both tired and mad, without a cent, they damned the lousy hole.

Text: Original California

Songster. THE

FOOLS

OF

'49

33

Air: Uncle Sam's Farm J. A. Stone

uà

£—5r

i The

great.est

i m _ p o _ s i _ t i o n that the pubJic e v _ e r saw, Are the

g

$

. iE

Cal

Ol

k

±L

iì

»

i

for

nia

steam_ships that run to

q J

A

Pa_na_maj

They're a

u

ft

h

J Li—«•

p e r _ f e c t set

i

Gl

rob_bers ; and ac—com.plish their de_signs D

k

Jgen_'ral

ih

;— come

É

vi

9

t

ac

-

tion of

CHORUS

the peo_ple

to

the mines.

Then

u

—

—

—

a

long,

you that want to C

J

com_mo_da_tions,and the pas_sage ver

y

low;

they

\ [ )

r—"fi— ^ — t —

r

,

be

a

^

are large e_nough, don't

The

Do

*

y

j

go,

^

*l i —

a

G

r — H

»—« And ,

Et

be_side.

Ho _ key,

po

key,

J M J^ J'' ^ ^ ^

We're all JN j

b

k A£

A

how

J )

£

with

them where the

the

h

Oh, didnt I haveaw.ful

£

£

4=

m

times!

Fi\

5

'f

get m a r _ r i e d when we

good fel ,

P go

lows, we'll have some fun,

And

J ]•, r H v y - n S M 1 ' — d —^ — — , J — J home, So

what's the use of

h, i

talk_ing.

2 I was taken with the bilious cholera, W h i l e I was traveling up the Platte; All m y friends they ran a w a y and left me, Then, to die contented, d o w n I sat — EMIGRANT

FROM

PIKE

ry

49

Cramping, twisting, down I sat, My inwards all tied up in a knot; My old mule he began to bray, I, scared to death, began to pray.

3 When I reached the desert, I was starvin', Surely thought I'd never get across; Then I thought of my big brother, Marvin, Then the bacon and the mule I'd lost. The times to reach the mines were past, And I, poor devil, was about the last; And when I thought of my big brother, I bid farewell to my kind old mother.

4 I got through at last, and went to mining, Stole myself a shovel and pick, But could not raise the color big and shining, Swore I'd never strike another lick. Then I went round among my friends To see if I could raise some tens To take me home, for I was scared, My hair was all turning into beard.

5 If I get home, I bet my life I'll stay there, California'll trouble me no more; I've tried my luck at everything and everywhere, And never have been half so poor before. For I've nothing in the world but meat, And that I really cannot eat; Such times, I never saw the like, Oh, Lord, I wish I was back in Pike!

Text: Original California Songster. Music: "Nelly Was a Lady," Minstrel Songs; First Chorus: "Old Dan Tucker," American Songs; Second Chorus: "King of the Cannibal Islands" or "Po-ca-hon-tas," Yankee Doodle.

50

EMIGRANT

FROM

PIKE

SEEING THE ELEPHANT

HE T I T L E of "Seeing the Elephant," one of the best songs in this volume, calls for a note. Although the phrase appears at least as early as 1835 — in Longstreet's Georgia Scenes — it was best defined in 1844 in Kendall's Santa Fe Expedition-. "When a man is disappointed in anything he undertakes, when he has seen enough, when he gets sick and tired of any job he may have set himself about, he has seen the elephant."* The elephants seen by the narrators of these selections form a depressing herd, bom of female fickleness, drink, swindling, and the natural perversity of fortune. To begin with, the "Dear John" letter is not a genre limited to wartime. Two of these songs, "Joe Bowers" and "Poker Jim," recount the stories of men jilted by their distant women, one a sweetheart and the other a wife. Stone's "Hunting after Gold," like "Seeing the Elephant," is a thorny sampler of vicissitudes suffered by a man who tried all kinds of mining. He gave up the placers, and then, "My hair pulled like the devil, I was troubled with the shorts, / So, without a cent of money, I went hunting after quartz." Mart Taylor's "We Are All A Panning" ridicules a lineup of seeming respectables who don't pan out. "An Oft-told Tale," an item literary in the worst sense, is full of allusions and puns; its best piece of paronomasia is " . . . those days are past, / My day-dreams now are ore!" Finally, "Away Up on the Yuba" is sung to the tune of "Old Folks at Home" by a mournful roamer, who wanders all up and down the "digger nation."

"Mitford M. Mathews, Dictionary of Americanisms (Chicago: University of Chicago Press,

1952), I, 550.

5&1

SEEING

THE

ELEPHANT

SEEING THE ELEPHANT Air: De Boatman Dance

m

D. G. Robinson

i

a

When

C I

, C ft h h

4

a

fat

and

Fv , C F> C J^ ^ ft >i

s-i— j

Ji

my

ad_vice,

kill

$ \ r r iy Oh

no,

)) 1J* «h had I

old

sow, S i x _ teen chick,ens

—

off

v J:i

sold:

a

a

V /

leave, you m i n _ e r s ,

J1

f»

the States for gold/ E v _ e r y thing I

i n X' $ Ji J So

dH^v

bed,

£

D. D. Emmett

left

F_k

stove and

£

Co

leave,

1

hU' Ji

J'

oh, leave, you min_ers,

-J

A

cow.

•j

— ^

leave,

-4Take

'i—[ r - —t ^—c—h—>5— i> J'

F

your lice,

or

else

C

j> Ij> J ' ÉJ '

lots of dust, I'm go_ing to

go

up

in

the moun_tains;

* * l i M p

the c i t _ y

to

get on

a "bust."

Off I started, Yankee-like, I soon fell in with a lot from Pike; The next was, "Damn you, back, wo-haw," A right smart chance from Arkansaw. On the Platte we couldn't agree, Because I had the di-a-ree, W e were split up, I made a break, With one old mulp for the Great Salt Lake. The Mormon girls were fat as hogs, The chief production, cats and dogs; Some had ten wives, others none, Thirty-six had Brigham Young. The damn fool, like all the rest, Supposed the thirty-six the best; He soon found out his virgin dears Had all been Mormons thirteen years.

SEEING

THE ELEPHANT

W

53

6

Being brave, I cut and carved, On the desert nearly starved; My old mule laid own and died, I had no blanket, took his hide.

7

The poor coyotes stole my meat, Then I had nought but bread to eat; It was not long till that gave out, Then how I cursed the Truckee routel

8

On I traveled through the pines, At last I found the northern mines; I stole a dog, got whipt like hell, Then away I went to Marysville.

9 There I filled the town with lice, And robbed the Chinese of their rice; The people say, "You've got the itch, Leave here, you lousy son of a bitch." 10 Because I would not pay my bill, They kicked me out of Downieville; I stole a mule and lost the trail, And then fetched up in Hangtown Jail.

11 Canvas roof and paper walls, Twenty horse-thieves in the stalls; I did as I had done before, Coyoted out from 'neath the floor. 12 I robbed a nigger of a dollar, And bought unguent to grease my collar; I tried a pint, not one had gone, Then it beat the devil how I daubed it on.

13

The people threatened hard my life, Because I stole a miner's wife; They showed me a rope, to give me signs, Then off I went to the southern mines.

14

I mined a while, got lean and lank, And lastly stole a monte-bank; Went to the city, got a gambler's name And lost my bank at the thimble game.

54

SEEING

THE

ELEPHANT

15 I fell in love with a California girl; Her eyes were gray, her hair did curl; Her nose turned up to get rid of her chin — Says she, "You're a miner, you can't come in." 16 When the elephant I had seen, I'm damned if I thought I was green; And others say, both night and morn, They saw him coming round the Horn. 17 If I should make another raise, In New York sure I'll spend my days; I'll be a merchant, buy a saw, So good-bye, mines and Panama.

Text: Original California Songster. Music: "De Boatman Dance," American Songs. Transposed from F to C.

SEEING

THE

ELEPHANT

tar

55

J O E

B O W E R S

J. Woodward

J. Woodward

My

fl'»

* come

iMt

name it

h from

t>

-

^

j.' leave

you

my

r

Bow_ers_

I've got

p

p

fr

ri,

yes,

V I

u

left

thar,

and

a

>

all

c

-

why

>

Joe

Mis _ sou

K 11

tell

p

old

h,

is

broth _ e r

J>

^

the way

^—fc^how

I

poor

h

old

i i m

mam _ my,

so

fer

4

1-

came to roam,

a _ way

D from

home.

2 I used to love a gal thar, they call'd her Sally Black; I axed her for to marry me, she said it was a whack; "But," says she to me, "Joe Bowers, before we hitch for life. You'd orter have a little home to keep your little wife."

3 Says I, "My dearest Sally, oh! Sally, for your sake, I'll go to Californy, and try to raise a stake." Says she to me, "Joe Bowers, oh, you're the chap to win, Guv me a buss to seal the bargain," and she threw a dozen in!

4 I shall ne'er forgit my feelins when I bid adieu to all; Sally cotched me round the neck, then I began to bawl; When I sot in, they all commenced — you ne'er did hear the like, How they all took on and cried, the day I left old Pike.

5 When I got to this 'ere country, I hadn't nary red, I had sich wolfish feelins I wish'd myself most dead; But the thoughts of my dear Sally soon made these feelins git, And whispered hopes to Bowers — Lord, I wish I had 'em yit! 6 At length I went to minin', put in my biggest licks, Come down upon the boulders jist like a thousand bricks; I worked both late and airly, in rain, and sun, and snow, But I was working for my Sally, so 'twas all the same to Joe.

56

"«J J O E

BOWERS

I

^

f r o m Pike;

G

*

Ike,

0t

J

And

7 I made a very lucky strike, as the gold itself did tell, And saved it for my Sally, the gal I loved so well; I saved it for my Sally, that I might pour it at her feet, That she might kiss and hug me, and call me something sweet.

8 But one day I got a letter from my dear, kind brother, Ike — It come from old Missouri, sent all the way from Pike; It brought me the gol-darn'dest news as ever you did hear — My heart is almost bustin', so, pray, excuse this tear. 9 It said my Sal was fickle, that her love for me had fled; That she'd married with a butcher, whose har was orful red! It told me more than that — oh! it's enough to make one swar, It said Sally had a baby, and the baby had red har! 10 Now, I've told you all I could tell about this sad affar, 'Bout Sally marryin' the butcher, and the butcher had red har. Whether 'twas a boy or gal child, the letter never said, It only said its cussed har was inclined to be a red!

Text: Johnsons Songs. Music: "Joe Bowers," in J. T. Hughes, Doniphan's Expedition, ed. W. E. Connelley (Topeka, Kan.: Connelley, 1907). Transposed from F to D.

JOE BOWERS m- 57

P O K E R

J I M

Air: Raging Canal

$

Now

I •M ^

I'll

1

tell

J

sev_en,

you

J> When

f#

I

of

J

I

in

lived

like

a

to

as

j

heav_en;

could

since e i g h _ t e e n

J

ri r I

had

for

ty_

*

old

E ty

y

Mis_sou

I*

i> j

home was

his

Ji I '

& pur

my

cS

p

t

D

c#

ij=

ri,

and

my

cS r a

bux_om

I it

tie

wife,

A be_

She

said

as

how

she

4

Ut loved

me

well,

and

I'm

cer

tain

I

loved

she.

2 But there came a lot of news along, I shall ne'er forget the day, About there being lots of gold in Cal-i-for-nia: I said "Good-bye" unto my wife, though my heart felt many pains, But thought the road to fortune, sure, lay straight across the Plains.

3 The first place that I got into is now called Placerville, In them days it was Hangtown, but they thought that ungenteel: I went to work right willingly, with shovel, pick, and pan, And every chunk of gold saved for my Mary Ann.

4

In about two years I made a pile, though things were awful dear, And then I started home again, to fetch my wife out here; I took passage by the steamer, just because it went so quick, But I'll never travel so no more, for the darned thing made me sick.

5 I stayed at home for half a year, and then we left for good, My wife and children all were well, I was in a merry mood: I bought a right good ox-team, and a wagon for the trip, And when we started, Mary Ann said, "Joshua, let 'em rip!"

58

"«1 P O K E R

J I M

as

6 W e had a very pleasant time, and all got safely through, I went to work right willingly, and so did my wife, too: T o make my home a happy one, my Mary Ann did try, But very shortly after that, began my mis-e-ry.

7 There was a noted gam-ba-lier a living in our camp, They called him Poker Jim, and, oh! he was an awful scamp; He used to come and talk to her, while I tried to make a strike, dd d Pike. And said she was a fool to love such an ugly d

8 One night I felt almighty tired, I'd been at work all day, When I got home the neighbors said my wife had run away: My heart was nearly bursting, and my head began to swim, She'd left a letter saying as how she'd eloped with Poker Jim.

9 I tried to keep my dander up, but felt awful bad of course, For the d d d d critter she commenced an action for divorce; She got it, and with Poker Jim she went off and got wed, And the only ground she got it on, was because I snored in bed!

Text: Johnsons Comic Songs. Music: "Raging Canal" or "Caroline of Edinburgh," Green

Mountain.

POKER

JIM

59

HUNTING AFTER GOLD Air: Combo J. A. Stone When I left old New York, to go hunting after gold, Chunks bigger than my head I could pick up, I was told; I stopped at Sacramento, on a devil of expense, And they sent me to the mountains, where I've not been sober since. CHORUS: Tang de di, de ding, de dang; de diddle al de da.

2 The first man I saw in Sacramento Valley, Was his Honor lying drunk, on a ten-pin alley, With half a dozen more, some whose names I dare not call, If you'd rolled for the center you'd been sure to got them all.

3

The people in the mountains, they were all on a bust, They were going through at Monte, though they pungled down the dust. I went into a temperance house to get a bit segar, And there laid the landlord drunk behind thé bar.

4

I went to eat some oysters, along with Captain Sutter, And he reared up on the table, and sat down in the butter; The Mayor and Recorder, they were both drunk as ever, So the next day they sent me fluming on the river.

5

The river of a sudden, then began to rise, But the devil was coming, which did me surprise; 'Twas a big pine log, coming neat as a pin, Which stove both ends of my long torn in.

6

I looked up the river, and the next thing I saw, Was a rocker and a pail floating down towards me, And when they got abreast of me, says I, "Old rocker, you've earned me a pile, good bye."

7 It seemed too bad, 'twas a devil of a shame, To work all summer, and then to lose a claim, With a bully little pick, and a long handled shovel, And a chance for a flume left to go to the devil.

8 So those that had money, they were bound to have a spree, But they that hadn't any, said, "You can't fool me; We know where you're going, or at least we mistrust, You are going to Nevada, to get on another 'bust.' " 60

HUNTING

AFTER

GOLD

9 I bucked awhile at Monte, at a half dollar bank, And the dealer he got trusted for the whisky that I drank; I drank till m y throat got so sore I couldn't swallow, S o I tapp'd him on the Jack, and I won half a dollar.

10 I haven't had a cent since I failed on the river, Nor I haven't had clothes enough my nakedness to cover; T h e s e breeches I got trusted for, but now I cannot pay; This is the only shirt I've had since the 2 3 d of May. 11 M y hair pulled like the devil, I was troubled with the shorts, So, without a cent of money, I went hunting after quartz; And I found as rich a lead as ever had been seen, But the devil of it was, I had no machine.

12 T h e people were surprised; when w e told them, how they laughed, T h a t a dozen of our company had gone to sink a shaft, And we'd all make a pile, around the Horn have a sail, W h e n the Sheriff took the dozen, who were digging, off to jail. 13 T h e stories they were going, going very fast indeed, And the miners going faster, to stake off the lead; Among the rest a coming, that was going to make a strike, On a spike-tail mule, was a man from Pike. 14 T h e excitement died away, there was nothing in t h e lead So those that bought an interest, among themselves agreed, F o r the flour they had bought, and a little gnarly ham, T h e y would never pay a cent, for the lead warn't worth a damn.

Text: Original California

Songster.

HUNTING

AFTER

GOLD

W E

I R E

A L L

A

P A N N I N G

Air: We're A' Noddin' M. Taylor n it

.

Â

Lh» CHORUS

We

i

D

are

£

all

a

J pan_ning,

pan

^

pan

7

A

J1

b

£

pan_ning, We

are

D

£

W a

kjfo

J^

pan_ning

^

^

J1

come to

Cal

i

just

to

^

get

all

D i stil

still

go

to

lit

ft f. I ^

fr

f o r _ nia, come to

a V

a

pan_ning

£

P

V

in

a

m keep

JS' J>

make a 4=

tie

^

h u n _ d r e d dif

pan

ning,

lit

^

Those who

J

raise, And they

i

D

£

pan

pan

ning, And

A

pan_ning

r just

.h

ferent ways. And they

1

£

£

>

A7

A

pan

gold.

e.

£ keep

tie

they

D

h

1 ^

J>

to

make

a

rJs- — ^ lit

tie

*— gold

2 The merchant shows his articles and urges you to buy, And he says they cost him dearly but "it's all in your eye." This is his way of panning, pan pan panning, This is his way of panning just to get a little gold.

3 The preacher keeps a preaching, going everywhere it pays, He bestows the greatest blessings where he makes the biggest raise. 'Tis a pious way of panning, pan pan panning, 'Tis a pious way of panning just to get a little gold.

4 And the crazy politicians all his enemies will curse, While he seeks to get his fingers in the heavy public purse. 'Tis a tricky way of panning, pan pan panning, 'Tis a tricky way of panning just to get a little gold.

62

"«I W E A R E A L L A P A N N I N G

5 The Attorney all his knowledge of the Statutes will reveal, And you'd think him talking truly when he's lying like the de'il. T i s a wicked way of panning, pan pan panning, 'Tis a wicked way of panning just to get a little gold.

6 There's the gambler has his cappers who are looking all about, And when they can find a sucker they are sure to pan him out. T i s a thieving way of panning, pan pan panning, 'Tis a thieving way of panning just to get a little gold.

7 And the robber comes upon you with a pistol or a knife, And declares he'll have your money or he's bound to take your life. T i s a horrid way of panning, pan pan panning, 'Tis a horrid way of panning just to get a little gold.

8 But the miner in his diggings keeps a panning all the while, And he's ever well contented when he's adding to his pile. T i s an honest way of panning, pan pan panning, T i s an honest way of panning just to make a little raise.

Text: Diggers' Song Book. Music: "We're A' Noddin'," Scotland. Transposed from C to D.

WE

ARE

ALL

A PANNING

fW

63

AN OFT-TOLD TALE Up in the mountain solitudes, Beside a "pile" of clay, A wight with shovel, pick and pan, Stood at the close of day; His shirt and sash were very red, His nose was very blue, And though the scene around was grand, The prospect wouldn't do. 2 His hat — enough — 'twas shocking bad, His sunburnt neck was bare; One eye looked droll, the other sad, Beneath his unkempt hair; His muddy jackboots, all of jet, Were long ago bereft; And unto them, like unto him, But little sole was left.

3 From out his pale unsmiling lips, With rank beard overgrown, Outspake this lonely mining man, In semi-growling tone, Whilst restlessly his jackboot kept The devil's tattoo drumming: "I had no sense in coming here, I've gained no cents by coming.

4 "Fortune, 'tis written, smiles on fools, Wherever they may labor, And surely I've been fool enough To win her choicest favor; But ever she eludes my grasp, Despite the proofs I gave her; That I'm an ass she turns from me To wanton with my neighbor.

5 "I have not sinned as some folks do; I pick but do not steal, And though my ways of life are hard, My heart is soft to feel. My neighbors' failings I let pass; I covet not a shade Of all his goods, nor ox, nor ass, Nor man, nor servant-maid.

64

AN

OFT-TOLD

TALE

6 "But for this last I claim no grace, Though some may not approve it, Because, in this infernal place There are no maids to covet, Nor sparkling eyes, nor beaming smiles, That filled my dreams of yore: Alas, alas! those days are past, My day-dreams now are ore!

7 "Oh, for one hour where early life Flowed passing merrily, Where youth still hung on low-toned words, And not upon — a tree; Where friends could wrangle and debate About each passing trifle, And meet a flash of wit, instead Of bowie knife or rifle."

8 He paused, he sighed, he gazed about, Then spake, — " T i s all cursed fine! Oh, for a pull of 'Double Stout,' To cool this thirst of mine; But never more I'll taste a pot Of glorious 'Lager B e e r . ' " The miner "turned and left the spot, And wiped away a tear."

Text: California

Songster.

AN O F T - T O L D

TALE

65

AWAY UP ON THE YUBA Air: Old Folks at Home J. A. Stone

S. C. Foster A

£

— A

way

up

the

D

m

Ü i

r— Yu

ba

there's where

up

h Js

in the mines, A

J>— >r Ji ft ft fl

£

*

All

up

r — —

I've been min_ing, e v _ e r

i I

Far

D

£

— ^ — pines;

riv_er,

G •—

D

r

Since we dug our rock_ers out of

G

D r

'—

•—

and down the d i g _ g e r na_tion, Man_y

A t roamed,

All

dirt

D.

£ and

rags, be

A

sides star D

A

va

£

Hair

that seemed it n e v _ e r

D

£

hard

had

been combed.

G

L

A

All D

and drear_y,

Ev

g&t

heart grows wear

m

y,

ery_where I D,

m Ne'er a

roam;

>

A_

cent, and far

—r-

Oh, min_ers, how my

J> J.' J*

a

AWAY

UP

ON

THE

YUBA

D

way from home!

All around the northern mines I've wander'd, With my blankets on my back; All I made for whisky then I squandered, Never had a dollar in my sack. When I was fluming on the Feather, I was going to make a strike, Till drove out by the rainy weather, Such thund nn' luck, I never saw the like.

66

the mines look

Ji ft J'

i

G

tion,

CHORUS

5=

$

times I've

When I was mining with my partner, He and I could not agree; I made all the bread, did this, that and t'other, He got mad if he had to make the tea: He was lazy as the very devil, Swore with me he wouldn't work; W e divided, he took tent, pick and shovel, Away he went, the lazy, lousy shirk.

Text: Original California Songster. Music: "Old Folks at Home," Minstrel Songs.

AWAY

UP

ON T H E

YUBA

t£*-

67

W0EHI WEHT OFF TO PROSPECT

^ ^ ^ H E C O M P L A I N T S continue to swell while the focuses narrow in this selection of songs. Taken together they neatly itemize the miseries miners encountered in coming to, wandering up and down in, and finally fleeing the California goldfields."When I Went Off To Prospect" sketches a geography, at once dismal and nostalgic, of the places in which a miner was unlikely to find gold: Michigan Bluff, Iowa Hill, Shirttail Canyon, Deadwood, Groundhog Glory, Hell's Delight, Bogus-Thunder, and Devil's Basin. Any miner who thought, like the one in "Striking a Lead," that nuggets "lay like lemons on the ground" ought to have been prepared for a bitter enlightenment. If he was as stubborn in chasing his bad luck as the narrator of "Prospecting Dream," he might find at the end of all his pains a crowd crying: "Hang him, hang him, shoot him!" Not only the miners themselves, but everyone attendant on them, suffered from their bad luck, and the song "Poor Diggings," in exploring this vein, exposes a variety of complainers, from the waterman with his water bill to the miners' wives who "may mourn all their lives." In the climate of such privation, competition is fierce and restraint is rare. "A Miners' Meeting" records the Mother Lode version of Roberts' Rules of Order in which testimony and writs yield precedence to the bully or the gent who buys the next round. Should he have weathered all these trials, the veteran could count on the tenderfoot typified in "He Ought To Know!" to point out grandly the right way to do things. It is not surprising that the rumor of rich, foreign gold fields could lure away both the disgruntled and the inveterately optimistic. "Australia and the Amazon" commemorates the discovery of gold in Australia in 1852 which precipitated a rush of miners from California, as did the rumor of rich placers at the headwaters of the Amazon two years later. The last line of the song suggests the enthusiasm with which future reports might be received: "The devil will get the next poor whelp that does discover gold."

70=SJ

WHEN

I

WENT

OFF

TO

PROSPECT

WJIEHI WERT OFF TO PROSPECT Air: King of the Cannibal Islands J. A. Stone

J. Brougham

a

i

ft ft ft ft J ft

£ heard of

i J M *

. «P1

Jh

J

«J

. *

_o_wa

; 4J

frM—J—¡W off

Sut—ter's Mill, At

u

s— i j )

1

Hill, But nev n

start_ed

gold at

i1

A

r

w - f

0-

to pros_pect, At

i

a

jh

quired for

I

A

s

£

>

o _wa

Hill,

of

D

ery

1—

u

dev_il

eled

A

ln_

a

on,

but

CHORUS

7t A

way

Had

i JJ>' I Ji — 3 T —J'r -1

not

been seen for

A

ways was

min_er

1

man

E

J J M J J: J JMf al

sick_er

J'

D

hap

o'er;

si

lent

lay, the

Ji J' J' J'

A

REFRAIN Khh K

J. I >

py group as_sem_bled 'round the moun_tain cot_tage door.

pick and shov_el

The

iz

ti

^ ft p p p P P P P v=p

m

gay_

day s work be A M

h Jl

ly

1

The

A7

day's work be_ing

£

o'er-

A

A1

py group as_sem_bled 'round the moun_tain cot

tage

door.

A green old oak, with branches wide, hangs o'er the little ranch; The birds are skipping to and fro with joy from branch to branch; A lovely wife, in silver tones, is singing "roam no more," And all is joy and comfort 'round the mountain cottage door. A lovely wife, in silver tones, &c. The old Sierras, fair to view, capped with eternal snow — The rich and pleasant valleys lay fresh and green below — A lovely child, with rosy cheeks, is playing on the floor, And all is joy and happiness 'round the mountain cottage door. A lovely child, with rosy cheeks, &c. The summer's sun, when peeping through the lattice in the morn, Beholds a smiling countenance, the cottage to adorn; The towering pines' majestic forms defy the winds that roar; While gentle glides the brook beside the mountain cottage door. The towering pines' majestic forms, &c. 100

THE

MOUNTAIN

COTTAGE

5 T i s high up in the mountain, a lovely spot indeed; The window blinds are open; — ye single men, take heed — No earthly joys can be compared, with heart and heart in store; T i s wealth and happiness around a mountain cottage door. No earthly joys can be compared, &c.

Text: Golden Songster. Music: "The Maid of Monterey" or "The Watcher," Yesterday.

T H E M O U N T A I N C O T T A G E BT 1 0 1

THE SHADY OLD CAMP Air: Ben Bolt

N. Kneass

l«)J-M

1

Oh,

.h

h

J

J

don't

p

r — t —

£|

J

you

A7

re_mem_ber

the

—

'

*

shad

y

kffn bi l> J^ j h t& J'i stood

n*

by

the

I

I

D

J

p

man

y

a

shad

I

J

J

M*

old

bone

has

'

and

r

chim_ney

Qd, G

J

on

A7

D

f ire-place where we used to

has

to

L.

de

cay,

E7

the

J

door

f l — 1 ,1 J has

all

D,

J

a_way,

M

1

both

A7

l

ted

J

from

have

f

rot

.

ted

Go

t> *

the

0

in.

PK

i1,1

¡




way,

The k

chim_ney

shady

old

camp

the

,

p

I

"

p

And

i

the

l V Jt = N m= m

'

roof and the door both have

A7

JJ J has

all

D

t< m

tum_bled

Oh, don't you remember the cool summer breeze, So welcome in June and July, And the table that stood 'neath the shady oak trees, At the foot of the mountain so high? The table is standing, as when we were there, Though not as we often have seen, For bushes have grown o'er the ground then so bare, And miners have worked our ravine. For bushes have grown o'er the ground then so bare, And miners have worked our ravine. 102 " « t h e

The

The

I j i

«

tum_bled

And

r

And

A7

pin,

D ^-h

\i

^—

the

G

cook?

t f 1 " »I

gone

dropped

That

the ground af_ter

IJ J, J, j

D|—.

'

P r t> ^ rot

D,

camp

,

.h J

J

,

J

roof

G^

—

old camp,

t> t> D J' J' l . ] _ j

ham

^

the brook, Where we lay

tramp, And the

y

G

p

,

of

,

^ J-, J j, M

f. f I I If

P I nit

side

f-

—j—

-- *Tl

J. A. Stone

in.

3 Oh, don't you remember the mountains of snow, In sight from the camp all the year, And the valleys so green, where the wild flowers grow, And where we went hunting the deer? The cool little brook where we used to drink, Will always be running the same As when we were talking of home on the brink, Or cursing the day that we came. As when we were talking of home on the brink, Or cursing the day that we came.

4 Oh, don't you remember the well beaten trail That led from the camp to the spring, And the pot-pies we made of the squirrel and quail, And the evenings when we used to sing? The trail and the spring we shall see them no more, Though never forget till we die; The shady old camp, with the ground for a floor, Forever, we bid thee good-bye! The shady old camp, with the ground for a floor, Forever, we bid thee good-bye!

Text: Golden Songster. Music: "Ben Bolt," Temperance Songster. Transposed from F to D.

THE SHADY OLD CAMP X3T 103

LIFE IN CALIFORNIA

H E P O L I T I C A L and social satire of these songs requires more extensive annotation. "Life in California" is another specimen of the talent of D. G. Robinson, whose interesting career was discussed in the Introduction. The song tells the story of a used-up man whose claim that he would make a first-rate mayor who only wants electing is more than a little autobiographical. The next song, John Stone's "The Gambler," is a salty piece about a sharper whose skill at monte, faro, sledge, and twenty-one has been frustrated by "these license times." "John Chinaman's Appeal" should be compared with "John Chinaman, My Jo" and "John Chinaman," also in this section, for the points of view involved. The last-named song presents the miners' side, whereas "John Chinaman, My Jo," written in the late 1860's when the Irish and the Chinese worked "side by side" on building the transcontinental railroad, paints another picture. Finally, that Mart Taylor could have suited himself, in the "Appeal," into the persona of a Chinese abused by discriminatory laws, by Know-No things, and even by an Indian, is a notably liberal effort. The song "City Council" is a diverting satirical allegory. D. G. Robinson, its author, was one of a committee of twenty-five appointed at a mass indignation meeting on June 5, 1850. The committee resolved to "instruct our mayor and common council to abandon the scheme of high salaries and to remodel the schedule of oppressive taxation, as shadowed forth by their recent action." The council ignored the plea, and a much larger committee might have marched on the council and forced it to submit on the evening of June 14, had not San Francisco on that date suffered its third great fire. Popular indignation smoldered, then flared up a year later in the form of a new charter which denied aldermen any compensation whatsoever. Owing to the new charter's vagueness as to the councilmen's term of office, two "city councils" vied for authority in the fall of 1851. At the close of the year the Superior Court ruled in favor of the later, and less popular, council. The "Lake Montgomery" alluded to in the song was a pond (formerly an inlet of Yerba Buena Bay) at the intersection of Montgomery and Jackson streets. Although by 1854 the surrounding land had been drained and built upon, a map of that date still shows a small amount of water near the intersection, possibly spanned by elevated roadways. The "new castle by the Lake" was the Jenny Lind Theater, one block away. It was acquired for an enormous sum by the second, disputed council as a new citv hall in 1852, a year after its construction. On the evening of June 1 another mass indignation meeting to protest its purchase ended in riot and confusion.

106'«J L I F E

IN

CALIFORNIA

The song "Rushing Panic in San Francisco" alludes to Henry Meiggs, infamous in San Francisco, renowned in Latin America. He had brought a load of lumber around the Horn in 1848, and with his large profits set up a lumber mill and yard. He acquired extensive real estate, was elected alderman, and began to mix the occupations. He borrowed money on warrants stolen from the treasurer's office and departed secretly and in lavish style by sea in October, 1858, leaving behind debts amounting to $800,000. He later turned up in Chile and became famous as a builder of Andean railways. After he had redeemed most of his notes at low figures, the California legislature passed an unconstitutional pardon, which the governor vetoed." "Couldn't Stand the Press" and "The Rowdy" depict some of the low-life characters and troublemakers who gave San Francisco and the mines a colorful reputation they never asked for.

" Dictionary of American Biography

(New York: Scribner's, 1933), VI, 501-502.

LIFE

IN

CALIFORNIA

Wl07

LIFE IN CALIFORNIA Air: Used U p Man D. G. Robinson

K)> * Jy 4

-¿J—i

O,

^

J

I

4

h

come

to

|

4

no

—.9

•é'

--

è

home, nor

h h *

fol

low

j. i h

i


heart

dig_gins,

É

#

I

ft > 1

fl" I >,h l.l°J' J ' J - J . U ' f, bold,

-J1 £—s-^-

è

tV" h V. h i |Gj j h*>

tune seems to

fi

\1

ha'nt got

1

J

ter

i—

And If

Z

2 I lives 'way down in Maine, where I heard about the diggings, So I shipped aboard a darned old barque commanded by J o e Higgins; I sold my little farm, and from wife and children parted, And off to California sailed, and left 'em broken hearted. But here's a used up man, &c.

3 W h e n I got to San Francisco, I saw such heaps of money, And the way the folks at monte played, I thought the game quite funny; So I took my little pile, and on the table tossed it, And the chap who dealt m e out the cards, says, " M y friend, you have lost it!" So you're a used up man, &c.

108 - S L I F E IN C A L I F O R N I A

h

4 I got into a steamboat and started up the river, Where I tho't the darned mosquitoes would ha' taken out my liver; When I got to Sacramento I buckled on this rigging, And soon I found a decent place, and so I went to digging. But I'm a used up man, &c.

5 I got into the water, where the "fever-n-ager" took me, And after I was froze to death, it turned about and shook me; But still I kept to work, a hopin' 'twould be better, But the water wouldn't fall a bit, but kept a getting wetter. But I'm a used up man, &c.

6 I 'spose if I should die, they'd take me to the Mission, Or else Jim Riddle'd sell me to pay up my physician; I've tried to keep up courage, and swore I wouldn't spree it, And here's my pile for five months' work, I'd lief as not you'd see it. For I'm a used up man, &c.

7 I don't know what to do, for all the time I'm dodging, To hunt up grub enough to eat, and find a decent lodging; I can't get any liquor, and no one seems to meet me, Who'll take me by the collar now, and kindly ask to treat me! For I'm a used up man, &c.

8 I'll go up to the "Woodcock," and see if Tom wont trust me, For Tom has got too good a heart, I'm sure, to try to burst me; But if they shouldn't know me there, or say I can't be trusted, Why then, kind friends, without your help, the poor old miner's bursted. For I'm a used up man, &c.

9 I don't know how it is, but I've a dreadful feeling, If I don't get some business soon, I'll have to take to stealing; I'd like some city office here, and the tax law wants correcting, I'd make a first-rate Mayor too, and only want electing. For I'm a used up man, &c. 10 But to my friends I see to-night, my thanks, I can't express 'em, And for their generosity, can only say, God bless 'em! For what of kindness they don't know, I'm sure ain't worth the knowing, So with my warmest thanks, kind friends, I think I'll be a going. For I'm a used up man, &c. Text: Comic Hits. Music: "Used Up Man," Comic Songs. Transposed from Bb toG.

LIFE

IN C A L I F O R N I A tS" 109

THE GAHBIER Air: De Camptown Races

J. A. Stone

S. C. Foster

£

HJ' J' h

b

A

Gam-bier's

life

A1

do ad _ m i r e ,

^ J' J^ Jl J' | J' of

rum they

h h i er

sharps

gin

to

1

J

^—*>— > t

^—

be

Du A

^ played

Ü

P ^ F i

b all

night

and

)

Du_da,

I'm

The

h

du_da;

Du_da(

G k

*

1

D s I * — h — -i— i Ji , d

1

cleaned them out,

CHORUS.

da;

sj i

) 7

w '

y

\

pout,

*

h

da, d u _ d a ,

A1 k h

The

D

J-I V U-,

re_quire,

»

*

pok

do

du_da,

A

1

best

Du_da, 7

K

du_da,

da.

D

i

J' * r, J' i J- n i

bound

to

play all

night,

I'm

bound to

play all

day;

I D

1 bet

my

11

mon_ey

1

on

f

F -

— i —

N —

'

—

J

—




'

*

J

J

Hang_tc*vn

o à gals

cos

È

í' love

(' p

ly

(Gj ,

y

Touch them and they'll

$

are

^te

D7

micjrt_y

-

*

-

—

*

_

u 4 —*V

«

plump and

ros

y,

U a

sting

like

Hair

gas

hor_nets.

sy

bon —

Hang _ town

P i i1 E p p ry

Mor_mon

to

show their

f e a _ t u r e s _ Ha,

ha,

They'll catch a neighbor's cat and beat it, Cut a bean in half to eat it; Promenade in silk and satin, Cannot talk, but murder latin. On the streets they're always grinning; Modestly they lift their linen; Petticoats all trimmed with laces, Matching well their painted faces. To church they very seldom venture • Hoops so large they cannot enter; Go it, gals, you're young and tender, Shun the pick and shovel gender. Text: Golden Songster. Music: "New York Gab" or "Boston Gals," Comic Songs. HANGTOWN

l lets

nets ;

are

gals

111 v E

They're dreadful shy of forty-niners, Turn their noses up at miners; Shocked to hear them say "gol dum it!" Try to blush, but cannot come it.

126

ring _

in

GALS

£

preach _ e r s ;

P & I p" Í' P' fr IP1 P1 i

Heads thrcwn back

= =

D7

C

è

N

Kj G

Pai nt _ ed cheeks and

c r e a _ tures, Think they'll mar

G

h1 —

D7

G

ha! Hang_town gals.

CALIFORNIA BALL Air: Wait for the Wagon

J. A. Stone

m

fet ¥

small,

n ft tf A ^,

G. P. Knauff

E7

5E=I5 ' T w o u l d make our

east_ern

peo_ple

cave, To

see

the great

D

5 = 5 The old,

E

w i t h one foot

in

t h e grave, All

E

"splurg_ing"

CHORUS IHUKUS

and

7

at

a

D

Wf J- 7 I J j> ^ 1 > ^ Ball.

i

Ut

Wait

for

the

mu _ sic!

Wait

Wait

for

D

A for

Ji 1 J'

the

mu

!>

sic!

And

^

we'll

the

mu_sic!

E7

have

A

a

dance !

On foot they through the diggings wind, And over mountains tall, With young ones tagging on behind, "Flat-footed" for the ball! A dozen babies on the bed, And all begin to squall; The mothers wish the brats were dead, For crying at the ball! The manager begins to curse, And swaggers through the hall, For mothers they've gone out to nurse Their babies at the ball! Old women in their Bloomer rigs Are fond of "balance all!" And "weighty" when it comes to jigs, And so on, at the ball!

6 A yearling miss fills out the sett, Although not very tall; "I'm anxious now," she says, "you bet, To proceed with the ball!" CALIFORNIA

BALL

W

127

7 A married woman — gentle dove — With nary tooth at all, Sits in the corner making love To some "pimp" at the ball!

8 A drunken loafer at the dance, Informs them one and all, With bowie knife stuck in his pants, "The best man at the ball!"

9 The Spanish hags of ill repute, For brandy loudly call; And no one dares their right dispute To freedom at the ball!

10 The gambler all the money wins, To bed the drunkest crawl; And fighting then of course begins With rowdies at the ball! 11 They rush it like a rail-road car; And often is the call Of, "Promenade up to the bar," For whisky at the ball!

12 "Old Alky" makes their bowels yearn, They stagger round and fall; And ladies say when they return, "Oh, what a splendid Ball!"

Text: Golden

Songster.

Music: " W a i t for the W a g o n , " Violin Primer. Transposed from G to A.

128

CALIFORNIA

BALL

SACRAMENTO GALS Air: Bobbin' Around

J. A. Stone

llMtj

u

The

S L h

k

\

< — v — Sa r

ra

m en

to

D

.

M

ping

T o u r d, a

roL nd, a

They' ns do

round;

¡-» on

rum,

As

they

—

-¡-h men

on

what

D

A1

N live

some,

are

gals

• Nip

j Florence

w

go

.

^ nip

ping

'round.

2 They're pretty gals, I must confess, Nipping 'round, around, around; And "Lordy-massy" how they dress, As they go nipping 'round. 3 On J street they are to be found, Nipping 'round, around, around; Their bustles lift them off the ground, As they go nipping 'round. 4 Their hoops will reach around a dray, Nipping 'round, around, around; They're "airy" on a windy day, As they go nipping 'round. 5 There's many a gal from Ar-kan-saw, Nipping 'round, around, around; Who well remembers hollowing "haw," As she went nipping 'round. 6 Their faces covered with paint and chalk, Nipping 'round, around, around; Their hoops take up the whole side-walk, As they go nipping 'round. 7 They're here and there, like Santa Anna, Nipping 'round, around, around; They're fresh and mellow as a ripe banana, As they go nipping 'round.

SACRAMENTO

GALS

129

8 Give me a rosy country gal, Nipping 'round, around, around; No matter if her name is Sal, As she goes nipping 'round

9 But of all the gals I ever see, Nipping 'round, around, around; T h e Sacramento gals for me, As they go nipping 'round.

Text: Golden Songster. Music: "Bobbin' Around," Violin Primer. Transposed from G to D.

130

SACRAMENTO

GALS

HE'S THE MAN FOR ME Air: Rosin the Bow J. A. Stone

4 A J» Iji J"1 Í' I've

i

C

>

J

h

sight of

i J?

eled

the

a

£

now to

\Jt

trav

the val _ leys

, Gkj?I

go,

}\

ji

moun_tains

c

c

t V

5

like

|i

huge moun_tains of

G ^

ft

J1

*ft

ft

sight of huge moun_tains of

C n

1

snow.

2 I'll marry a rich Señorita, And live on a ranch in the west; Have forty young greasers to greet her, And fifty, if put to a test. And fifty, if put to a test, And fifty, if put to a test — Have forty young greasers to greet her, And fifty, if put to a test. 3 I'll wear a "right pee-rt" standing collar, And smoke cigaritos, of course; And when I run short of a dollar, I'll try and obtain a divorce. I'll try and obtain a divorce, I'll try and obtain a divorce — And when I run short of a dollar, I'll try and obtain a divorce.

HE'S T H E MAN FOR M E

IS" 1 3 1

4 I'm greatly in favor of mining, With me, though, it does not agree; I'd rather be gently reclining, With Beauty, upon a settee. With Beauty, upon With Beauty, upon I'd rather be gently With Beauty, upon

a settee, a settee, reclining, a settee.

5

I'm not much in favor of thieving, At all events, just as I feel; But never will work for a living, So long as I'm able to steal. So long as I'm able to steal, So long as I'm able to steal — I never will work for a living, So long as I'm able to steal.

Text: Golden Songster. Music: "Rosin the Bow," American Songs. Transposed from F to C.

1 3 2 -"A

HE'S

THE

MAN

FOR

ME

HIS A S S E M B L Y of annoyances and grievances contrasts with the "Life in California" section. In "California Humbugs" Mart Taylor uses Stone's favorite device of the catalogue of horrible particulars to shuttle before our view some of the pests — both human and not — who make a living by leaving the miner "less than they found him." John Stone then takes on "The Steam Navigation Thieves" on the Sacramento River — those companies that, supported by fat government franchises, gouged their passengers. The miners' only hope of relief came from the competition of opposition lines, combinations of companies formed to beat the monopolies. The song "California Stage Company" records similar feelings against similar abuses by overland carriers. The California Stage Company began operation on January 1,1854, and very soon had nearly monopolized overland transportation in the state, with the inevitable bad service: They promise, when your fare you pay, "You'll have to walk but half the way"; Then add aside, with cunning laugh, "You'll push and pull the other half." Many of California's politicians, if we may believe these poetic accounts, seem to have treated the people and their funds they way the miners treated placers, with "Both hands in the treasury trying to find / A bit for an ante and two dollars blind." Stone's "California Legislature" complains, somewhat randomly, of their grasping habits, their drinking and gambling, and then goes on to attack the immigrant paupers from Sydney. The same author's "Honest John and William Relief" describes the hazardous ordeal of getting elected to that body of thieves. There seems to have been little political naivete in the plebiscite of Puke ravine. The relative length of the next two songs about bank robbers tells us something about the importance of each kind. Almost three times as long as "Joaquin, the Horse-Thief," the song "California Bank Robbers" aims its blast at white collars, not bandannas. Aside from the usual parade of unusual types, including a shad-bellied Yankee and Herr Sauerkraut, this song tells an authentic story of embezzlement and bankruptcy. In February, 1855, the San Francisco banking firms of Adams and Company and Page, Bacon, and Company closed their doors, throwing the city into a financial panic. I. C. Woods and D. H. Haskell were partners with Alvin Adams in the former company. A. A. Cohen was named receiver for the firm. The nasty part is in the song. "Joaquin, the Horse-Thief" records, with some irony, the imaginary exploits and the lamentable death of this famous bandit. Joaquin's career as a desper-

134 «I

CALIFORNIA

HUMBUGS

ado in Calaveras and Mariposa counties lasted only about seven weeks, from January 23 to March 11, 1853, but he accomplished a lot and quickly became a legend. He was allegedly killed on July 25, 1853, near the present town of Coalinga in San Joaquin Valley, by Captain Harry Love's State Rangers. Stanza 5 alludes to a legend of "the steel he wore round him," a mysterious girdle that also figures in stanza 3 of "The Honest Miner." "The Sonora Filibusters" outlines the history of one of those ambitious, ill-starred, and illegitimate campaigns aimed at annexing the neighboring parts of Mexico. William Walker, a former Marysville lawyer, led a filibuster expedition to Lower California and Sonora in the fall of 1853. Sailing into La Paz under a Mexican flag, he seized the city without a shot and proclaimed the establishment of the Republic of Lower California, with himself as president and Fred Emory as secretary of state. A few days later he retreated to within seventy miles of the border and set up his capital at Ensenada. After wholesale desertions, the remainder of the band marched back across the border and surrendered to United States authorities. Walker was finally shot a few years later on a similar excursion to Nicaragua. The last song, "Gold Lake and Gold Bluff," like "Australia and the Amazon," alludes to distant temptations, distractions, and frustrations. The two earliest mining excitements to lure thousands of eager miners on a wild and gooseless chase were the quests for the mysterious Gold Lake in the Sierra in May, 1850, and for the elusive gold-bearing sands at Gold Bluff near the mouth of the Klamath River in January, 1851. This song is a sharp pinprick to the enthusiasm of newspapers, shipping companies, and outfitting merchants whose bubble rivaled the South Sea and Mississippi schemes of earlier years.

CALIFORNIA

HUMBUGS

XS~ 1 3 5

? r Air: Over Jordan M. Taylor

D. D. Emmett

i f t i

J

I

This

P

b

E

Cai

i

for

A

.

a

is

ni

M M

r

r

r out

„

of

r\

Mr^

j poor

the

jack_et,

jV - K - n hard kind of

M lf>

7

r

r

h

la

sleeve, For min_ing

is

^ ^

__

^ .G r*-»_

kK

and

roll

u

D\

k

the sleeve,

For min

J Haul

' a

J

s

off the f)

hand kind of

m la

—

ing

\

\

) t

j -4—

jack_et

is

a

Y 4

1 bor

I

4 If you have a case to refer to the law And a lawyer for you shall begin it, Your dust will somehow slip in his paw, And you're broke if you happen to win it.

HUMBUGS

-0w

—

and

3 Each druggist clerk, who comes from the States, "Sets up" in the bleeding profession, If he kills a man, that he's called too late, Is excuse for the quackish transgression.

CALIFORNIA

' "

^—1

push.es.

2 The merchants hope to accumulate a pile, By selling goods to the miners, They will trust them out, and in a little while, "Bust up" for the want of "shiners."

136

a

u

< i 4-t-

'

meet with

M —k

poor d e v _ il

bor,

'

»—

u

a

up

State, 'Tis

Where, to ^

J> J Sr4 — i1 — n

A

/

L

bush_es, 1

man_y

____,

Haul off

the 3

hum_ bug

\—K— J1

i

man's fate,

qj* , CHORUS

L M

in

A7 I

a Vr-

f^-n V—

the world,

D

roll

V— , 1 be

up the

U J lieve.

5 The priest will preach one day in the week, And cause the sinners to tremble; Read the bible all day, and when it is dark, With the rogues he's bound to assemble. 6 The miner works hard with the shovel and pick, Till his body is feeble and tender, He goes into town at the end of the week, And spends all his dust on a bender.

7 The gambler deals from the bottom all day, And loiters about the Diana, He raises the devil, and when he gets broke, He raises a stake from a miner. 8 The miner lays himself down to sleep, The fleas are jumping around him, Or overgrown bed bugs over him creep, And all leave him less than they found him.

Text: Diggers' Song Book. Music: "Over Jordan" or "Jordan Is a Hard Road To Trabel," Comic

Songs.

CALIFORNIA

HUMBUGS

137

n

m wmn m

mmm

n

P - ' W t l F - t F Pr C " 1 M i a

Air: Walk Ye In J. A. Stone >0 2

G

n The

D

i

on

le_gal

swin_dle

h

ü

n

ft

,

ift

1

i

D7

j

Is

j^ —

r

»

It

ft

ft

j

would s u r e _ l y .

ft

Gi

Then should an CHOf \

j

Re

be

a

bles_sing

if

_

k

-

y

o

m ft

'j V

L

J.' ther or

ft—

P I

f

ft

J—

ride them on 'i

- ) —

hands u p _ o n

I

on

Jl j !

. 0 1

k

J' If, it, t r y i t , e i _ t h e r

* — p

^

to

THIEVES

the G

J ^ or

from the Bay.

2 They have robbed a world of people, still there's none that say a word, For if ever they were passengers, they'd be thrown overboard; If they start an opposition, then eight out of every nine Will support the imposition, of the combination line.

1 3 8 -«I T H E S T E A M N A V I G A T I O N

the

ft—=

- 1 — ^

.

you don't be_lieve

a

r,—ft— -J " i — i — / — J —

your mon.ey, o r they II rob you on

G

Jl|f, If

»—

s

;

Keep your D7

J way.

h

D7 A

P P 1 J-' P P P I P &

J s — 4

way.

gan_ize/

>

Keep your hands u p _ o n your mon_ey, or they'll rob you

F

o,

the com_pan_y would

mem_ber now! r e _ mem_ber now! re_mem_ber what

? P

say;

rn

— f r1 f t* t - g. ^—J.

\

X:

rail.

^

*

riv_er,

yf

D7

,

the steam.boat im_po_ si _ tion on the S a c _ r a _ m e n _ t o

J

fail;

k

t

can _ not

ft ft 1 J> ft j i

ft —

\p lfl>

ff

which the peo-ple

Gi.

k

sev _ e r ,

W

ly

m

>1

3 When you start from Sacramento and get stuck upon the sand, All you have to do is jump ashore and foot it up by land. If the devil ever gets them, he will Put them every soul, In the lowest pits of purgatory, there to shovel coal.

Text: Golden Songster. Music: " W a l k Y e In" or "History of the World," Minstrel

THE

STEAM

Songs.

NAVIGATION

THIEVES

139

H U M

Pi

Air: Dandy Jim of Caroline J. A. Stone

J. R. Myers

D

J

There's no

I

J. J)

res_pect

J 1 r

for

youth

f o r _ ni

m m .

$

r a

stage;

But

pull

and

haul

board

a

bout

m

i

»

do

a

mong

e

the

•

—

sheets.

D

thiev_lng

line

$

a

for

Cal

seats

In

i po

si

'

eight

J

J

t i o n " they de

They

s t a r t _ed

een_hun

dred

for

i.

As

w a

m ty

nine;

All

i fy,

So

the

p e o _ p l e must "root

3

The ladies are compelled to sit With dresses in tobacco spit; The gentlemen don't seem to care, But talk on politics and swear.

4 The dust is deep in summer time, The mountains very hard to climb; And drivers often stop and yell, "Get out, all hands, and push — up hill!"

5 The drivers, when they feel inclined, Will have you walking on behind, And on your shoulders lug a pole, To help them through some muddy hole.

STAGE

as

e

2

CALIFORNIA

*

. *——

You're crowded in with Chinamen, As fattening hogs are in a pen, And what will more a man provoke, Is musty plug tobacco smoke.

140

of

J

CHORUS

I

b e d — bugs

"op

age, On

mâ

k r—»

or

J

Ji Ji

COMPANY

hog or

die."

6 They promise, when your fare you pay, "You'll have to walk but half the way;" Then add aside, with cunning laugh, "You'll push and pull the other half!" 7 They have and will monopolize The business, till the people rise, And send them "kiteing" down below, To start a line with Bates and Rowe!

Text: Golden Songster. Music: "Dandy Jim of Caroline," American Songs. Transposed from F to D.

CALIFORNIA

STAGE C O M P A N Y

tw

141

Air: Deny Down J. A. Stone This honorable body is hard to be beat, Too lazy to work for the victuals they eat; They do us no good, but still they get pay For raising the devil, eight dollars a day, CHORUS:

Away down, down, down to the city.

2 They're all very nice while buying up votes, Shake hands with the miners and drink with the bloats; But meet them below and its right the reverse, "You're only a miner, poor miserable curse."

3

We ought to feel proud, of so wealthy a band Of government robbers that got it so grand, They squander our money, good brandy adore, They empty the treasury, then ask for more.

4 Go into the capital, there you will see On one side a fight, on the other a.spree; For some one is hit with a cane o'er the head, Another gets drunk, and they put him in bed.

5 His Honor goes in for a share of the funds, To buy ammunition and water-lots guns, Both hands in the treasury trying to find A bit for an ante and two dollars blind.

6 Those paupers, by no means are competent men, The average from Sydney is one out of ten; They'll get all they can out of old Uncle Sam, For hon'rable duty they don't care a damn.

7 They know it's a farce and a dreadful disgrace, They can't look an honest white man in the face, And all feel ashamed to acknowledge the com, But they can't get around it, as sure as you're born.

Text: Original California Songster.

142

CALIFORNIA

LEGISLATURE

Air: Oh, Wasn't I Glad J. A. Stone Honest John and William Relief, About the time of election, Were thinking which was the biggest thief, Or nearest to perfection; When on the levee they chanced to meet, They both were drunk as ever, John pitched headlong in the street, And William in the river. CHORUS:

O h , w a s n ' t I glad, o h , y e s ;

Wasn't I glad, oh, yes!

2 William, he went to the mines, Where he had been before, His shirt-tail hanging out behind, Where his breeches they were tore. The Whigs' advice to him was, "Leave, And never more be seen!" So, shirt-tail out, as when he came, He ran down Puke ravine.

3 William he ran all that night, Got back to Sacramento, Swore with John he'd have a fight, But still he didn't intend to. The honest John came up behind, To see what might befall him; And there, if William made a speech, He swore again he'd maul him.

4 William, he began to see, His case it was a gonner — So he got mad, went on a spree, And fell down in a corner; And there he lay so nicely curled, And snoring so like fury, Says he, "If beat, I'll leave the world, And go back to Missouri!"

Text: Original California

Songster.

HONEST

JOHN

AND

WILLIAM RELIEF

fS-

143

CJUalFQBHIiL BMK ROBBERS Air: Jordan Is a Hard Road to Trabel

J. A. Stone

D. D. Emmett

V

V The Cai

i

An

o

ther such a

band

P p p E± to

A r = ìM

lot '

of

you

rich

ifl> 1

.h

for

Jh

care—full

A

£

i Cal

i

nia

k J^ all

peo_ple —

J

4—

you

1

care_full

thieves,

peo

£ pie

will

Or

the

£

you;

t ^ — i V' - K11—

k

you

±

x

K

,

-M

rich

bank_er

So

be

—T1

1

D

£

hang you,

I

The Merchant rushed in looking whiter than a sheet, The Miner came tearing like a bull dog; Poor old washerwomen crying in the street, And Johnny Bull croaking like a bull frog. CALIFORNIA

BANK

ROBBERS

j-—

thieves,Or the

be

2 They agreed among themselves they could easy make a pile, By stealing all they had on deposit; They would do it by a failure, and be honest all the while — Then a million and a half — what of it?

144

you

all

hè

hang

row_dies and

k

•

v.» \

they

F f = l h' hi '

*

bank_er

will

¡) j) 1 J: nia

i

J

t

>

J

be

h

„

for

i t

A1

h J- J' J1 ui i

They will hang them as

So

—j

and

A7

. i

iFPl -j

'

row_dies

'

}

rob_bers As the barkJng firm of D

the end,

row_dies.

b l\

they

v 11 ' i v--J* J - fi— J—

CHORUS l

J

V ~ h —

a

of

G

ams, from b e _ g i n _ n i n g

J

if !

u

Cai

are de_ter_mined

/

m

P

peo_ple

p fr p

4

fi—fi—

.

have

£

^ ^

for_nia

*1— Ivt1-J—

1

A

Ad

v\

u

ktfcM find,

V

lieve.

4 Women carried round on the shoulders of the crowd Really was a sight very funny; Legs all bare, though they didn't seem to care, They were bound to have a sight for their money. 5 The blind man said to the bankers, "I'm poor — Surely, man, you don't intend to rob me!" The Chinaman said as they kicked him out the door, "Me no shabee, John, me no shabee!" 6 In came the shad-bellied Yankee out of breath, And he says, "Old feller, goll-darn-ye!" Then along came Pike, saying, "I'll be the death Of you bank robbers, dog-on-ye!" 7 I. C. Wood sabed something very strange, So he vamosed, though he knew it wouldn't sound well. He hid among the hills in the Contra Costa range, With a bag of bogus dust — what a scoundrel! 8 Ladies in the jam now and then were heard to say, "Oh Lordy-massy, how you squeeze us!" When a Jew got to the counter, he began without delay, "Vel, I vants my money, by Sheesus!" 9 Frenchmen they were squawking like a flock of hungry geese; Vainly did they parley-voo-de-ding-dong. Sauer-Kraut was looking for a Justice of the Peace, To send all the Yankee thieves to Hong Kong. 10 Adams he declared that his name was just a sale, To give "The House" a wholesome reputation; I. C. Wood says they both agreed to fail, And swindle all o' God's creation. 11

The bank robber Wood had to hunt another hole, For many were determined they would kill him; So he gathered up the money he maliciously had stole, And away went the black hearted villain. 12 Their "Receiver" is a thief — you can see it by his looks — And the Lord knows what he wouldn't swear to; After robbing all the money, why he then stole the books, And a thousand other things that would scare you. 13 They were thrown into the bay 'bout the middle of the night, By the long-eared, fish-faced Cohen; And the moment they were found he was quickly out of sight, For he thought it was time to be goin'.

CALIFORNIA

BANK

ROBBERS

145

14 Page & Bacon, after Adams, thought they'd make a strike, Concluded in a hurry they would try it, Pocket what they could, go a-kiting back to Pike — Now I wonder if they ever will deny it. 15 Like a great many others, they were taken by surprise, When they came to overhaul their plunder; Instead of half a million they were sure to realize, They hadn't stole a dollar, by thunder!

16 They were bound to make a raise, so they started in again, And carried on a wholesale thieving, Robbed the orphan, the widow, the farmer of his grain, And were taken with — a very sudden leaving! 17 If the English and the French cannot take Sebastopol, They had better let the job to the Yankees; Uncle Sam will do it cheap, unless he is a fool — He could steal it with the California bankers!

Text: Golden Songster. Music: "Jordan Is a Hard Road To Trabel," Comic Songs.

146 -si

CALIFORNIA

BANK

ROBBERS

JCUiqUTH TIE IQRSE-TEIE7 Air: Now, I Warn All You Darkies Not To Love Her J. A. Stone I suppose you have heard all the talkin', Of the very noted horse-thief Joaquin; He was caught in Calaveras, but he couldn't stand the joke, So the rangers cut his head off, and have got it now in soak. CHORUS:

Now I warn every body not to ramble, Never drink, never fight, never gamble, For you'll never have a cent, all your money will be spent, And you to Sacramento to the prison brig be sent.

2 They took three-fingered Jack, and cut his hand off, Then the Rangers drove the rest of the band off; Then they took the head and the hand, and they had it well preserved, And the Rangers got the credit, which they very much deserved. 3 Joaquin to the mountains was advancing, When he saw Lola Montez a dancing; When she danced the spider dance, he was bound to run her off, And he'd feed her eggs and chickens, make her cackle, crow and cough. 4 Joaquin, just before he was taken, Killed a Chinaman, and then stole his bacon; Then he went to Sonora, where he killed eleven more, And a big Digger Indian, which made the twenty-four. 5 You have heard of the steel he wore round him, I will tell you what it was when they found him, 'Twas a long-tom iron, to protect him in his crimes, And they swore by the holes he'd been shot a thousand times.

6 Now the head it can be seen at Sacramento, But to have it there, they never did intend to; For they fought like the devil, while they had half a show, But the Rangers put an end to the terror of Mexico. Text: Original California Songster. JOAQUIN

THE

H O R S E-T H I E F

0"

147

Air: Ben Bolt

J. A. Stone

\\

, ,< Oh

i

don't

you

s

-

Walk_er,

the

—

3

clean out

rim—

£ ed

eÉ=ÉÌ

no

up

the E7

D,

thing but

fun,

and

fence in

.

L

V

En

sen

A7

:

t>

V da

a

For

land ?

They

h--\-i 1

•

'

Camp, And

hoist

D

Ban_ner,

Go

the

Which ter_ri_fied

Dl

l

Walk _ er

h

^

Ji

D

O " — — — ' — ^ to scare San_ta An

Oh, don't you remember the ship-loads that went, In spite of their friend, Uncle Sam, With knives, guns and pistols, they started hell-bent, For greasers they didn't care a damn. But warn't they astonish'd when they heard Sam had bought Sonora, Chihuahua, and all, And the "Portsmouth" was coming to hang all she caught, So Walker's Republic did fall. Text: Original California Songster. Music: "Ben Bolt," Temperance Songster. Transposed from F to D. SONORA

FILIBUSTERS

1

the Greas.ers, though

A7

2

THE

to

D

Oh, don't you remember the town of La Paz, Where Walker commenced his career, And was shot in the back, so Fred. Emory says, While stealing a poor Spanish steer? La Paz still is standing, as filibuster dens, And each hole and corner is full Of filibuster thieves that were caught stealing hens, And others their backs lined with wood.

148

Bi

went to S o _ n o _ r a

M O L h J> ,

p

take

at

Dj—j

3

±

m

That

—

the great,

A7

A7

fn— 0~.—r .

the Star_span_gled

G

the band,

i

E

the State, To

tore down the flag

Walk_er,

^

D,

£

P1 P f

i

of

G^

I

Bill

re_mem_ber

cap_ tain

K

"I

-

J) D

N. Kneass

' na.

Air: Fisherman's Daughter J. A. Stone In eighteen hundred fifty, when Gold Lake was in its prime, The people swore the dirt would pay from three cents to a dime; The merchants trusted out their goods, the miners ran away, They soon returned, well satisfied that Gold Lake would not pay. CHORUS:

L a d el d e fal, etc.

2 In eighteen hundred fifty-one, Gold Bluff was all the go, The ships, with passengers and grub, were full as they could stow; They'd nothing in the world to do, but gather up the sand, The fools that went without a cent, Gold Bluff tee-totallv damned.

3

They climbed up to the very top where gold must surely be, They laid down on their bellies, and peeped over in the sea; They tied a rope unto a pail, dipped up a little sand, But all the gold was in the sea, too far away from land.

4

They left their grub and blankets, and patent gold machines, The fleas were thick, and body-lice were large as chili beans; They all returned, well satisfied they'd all been nicely fooled, For nothing there was to be found, as speculators told.

Text: Original California

Songster.

GOLD

LAKE

AND

GOLD

BLUFF

X£-

149

H E S E S O N G S tend to be both sad and sentimental, but like happy and sentimental songs, they are not uniformly one or the other. The griefdrawn mouth keeps bending into a smirk. "The Unhappy Miner" is a catalogue of hardships to the tune of "Old Dog Tray," but the difference in tone may be judged from the lines, "I've lived on pork and beans . . . So long I dare not look a hog in the face." "The Lousy Miner" seems resigned to his hardships, and, though unhappy, has many close friends. Longer, more humorous, and more artistic, "The Vocal Miner" brings the sentiment of the earlier part of each stanza back to earth with a saucy final line. The three songs entitled "The Miner's Lament" are not variations on a theme or versions of a basic song. They are all quite different in form and content. The first is very sad and not at all bad: Cold, wet and hungry, I've slept on the ground, When those visions of happiness came, But sad and disheartened, awoke by the sound, Of the screech-owl that lit on my claim. The second lament is less sad, and some humor derives from its occasional poetic diction, inverted sentences, and incongruous subject matter: "And rawhide pancakes, guiltless all of butter, / Have made me what I am — a sorry sight." Number three, the work of D. G. Robinson, is political and more sophisticated than the others. Among its virtues is a realist's derogation of frontier bluster: A dealer swore three times or more, For singing songs he'd flay somebody, But what surprise bedimmed his eyes When he found this thing was bloody.

152

THE

UNHAPPY

MINER

Air: Old Dog Tray S. C. Foster

>

|G>

My ntf rff—i VJ7 KJ

tt

i

ons

t,

thing

left

r

A

r-

p

hap _ py

J)

L, 1/

Di

for

D

no

art

J''

•

I'll

>

heart

is

full

h of

J' The

nev _ er

nev_er

D CHORUS .

^

u

11 r

a

way. ,

J

Oh,

J

^

j

J'

Jl

D7

L

I

u

of

K—

hap _ py home, now where

— J ing

My

l

J'

}>

Think

see

k

. G |

L—

woe,

« There's

K

7

a h

last,

pay,

J-I

thou, Friends that were kind and sin_cene! A _ l a s ,

— h —

r

*

:

will

G

,

^

V

long_er

I t>

me,

>

j H r

*'

1

I'

hap _ py home far

G

J

b

>

The mines have failed at , 07

th

ches

J.

7

JM *

G

DL

'

n*

>

days are past,

and gul

l>

GK

no

t

hap _ py i , D7 w. W ^ - i

can

iff

Ji°J

b

do

,

I' J

not know,

k J'

loved ones

^

my

s—

J- H -J ; — f ~ so

dear.

2 I mine from break of day, But cannot make it pay, Disheartened return to my cabin at night, Where rattlesnakes crawl round My bed made on the ground, And coiling up, lay ready to bite. 3 My poor old leaky lamp Is always cold and damp; My blanket is covered with something that crawls; My bread will never rise, My coflFee-pot capsize. I'd rather live inside of prison walls.

THE UNHAPPY

MINER

153

4 My boots are full of holes, Like merchants have no soles; My hands, once so soft, are harder than stone; My pants and woolen shirt Are only rags and dirt; And must I live and die here alone?

5 I know how miners feel When pigs begin to squeal, Or hens on their roosts to cackle and squall; It makes my blood run cold To think it's all for gold, And often wish that Gabriel would call!

6 It's "Starve or pay the dust," For merchants will not trust, And then in the summer the diggings are dry; Of course then I am broke, Swelled up by poison oak; It's even so, I really would not lie.

7 I've lived on pork and beans, Through all those trying scenes, So long I dare not look a hog in the face; And often do I dream Of custard pies and cream; But really it is a quien sabe case.

8 If I were home again, To see green fields of grain, And all kinds of fruit hanging ripe on the trees; I there would live and die, T h e gold mines bid good-bye — Forever free from bed-bugs and fleas.

Text: Golden Songster. Music: "Old Dog Tray," Minstrel Songs.

1 5 4 "«I

THE

UNHAPPY

MINER

Air: Dark-eyed Sailor J. A. Stone

ê

ï E = 5 It's

. land,

four

In

—

search of

, And

yet

years

I'm

—K

.

a

s A

mong

-

the

K—V"

J

poor when the truth is

this

•

b -~dl—y—

J

gold

= R

reached

since

r r

J ^

lA °J sand;

long

—

v

rocks

and

r b— S told,

I'm a

d

É

M min_er,

J

lous_y d

1 I'm

a

lous_y

min.er

in

search of shin_ing

gold.

2 I've lived on swine till I grunt and squeal, No one can tell how my bowels feel, With slapjacks swimming round in bacon grease. I'm a lousy miner, I'm a lousy miner; when will my troubles cease?

3 I was covered with lice coming on the boat, I threw away my fancy swallow-tailed coat, And now they crawl up and down my back; I'm a lousy miner, I'm a lousy miner, a pile is all I lack.

4 My sweetheart vowed she'd wait for me Till I returned; but don't you see She's married now, sure, so I am told, Left her lousy miner, Left her lousy miner, in search of shining gold.

5 Oh, land of gold, you did me deceive, And I intend in thee my bones to leave; So farewell, home, now my friends grow cold, I'm a lousy miner, I'm a lousy miner in search of shining gold. Text: Original California Songster. Music: "Dark-eyed Sailor," Green Mountain. THE LOUSY

MINER

W

155

Air: Do They Miss Me at Home? S. M. Grannis

J. A. Stone

t i

£ When

F.

the m i n _ e r

K

h

J

lays

J^ J J^ J*

5=

re

pP

him_self

from

c

his

p ^ 1 J- ¿

h

down

C

turns

to

re

pose,

.

G'

b

He

won.ders the

And

how

he

got

KJ

ft ¿

Pi fi fi——

w

soon there's a

change of

his

good

c

$

F.

r

Will whis_per

a

É breath,

s

re

That

soon will

la_tion

VOCAL

MINER

r

* 7

jft—

J—

twin s i s _ t e r

S de_part

p

p

That soon will

m K

like

3 He can see the hot cakes in the kitchen, The innocent children at play, And see his old mother at knitting, Who soon will be passing away. Their letters are always inviting, No matter how poor, to return; But someone is always back biting, And saying, "He'll come — in a horn!" And saying, "He'll come — in a horn!" THE

^

of

G

With his shovel and pick on his shoulder, He starts in the morning to mine; At noon he sits down on a boulder, And wishes 'twas still '49; For then he could do so much better. But this is what troubles him most: The mail has arrived — but no letter! Why shouldn't he give up the ghost? Why shouldn't he give up the ghost?

156

—

P'

dream of

ri—

fti—

-V

p

±L .part like a

V-0*

C

i-1

his

.But

clothes;

tion; For sleep, the

.

/

death,

- f — p — < A- M r \>

ft—

sen_sa

of

£

all

t N M

luck

c

P' P & P

neigh_bor,

And

,h ^ ^

GL

É

bor;

la

C

a

P de

m

breath.

If his friends, old and young, could behold him, With frying-pan baking his bread, A wife or sister might scold him, Because it was heavy as lead. Then one earning more than another, Is what they don't well understand, And lay it to this, that and t'other, Conclude he is working in sand — Conclude he is working in sand. 5 When the sleigh-bells are merrily ringing, And music resounds at the ball, Is some fond heart to him still clinging, Or is he forsaken by all? Perhaps they have heard of his stealing, And wonder what people have lost; If here, they could tell by the squealing And squawking in many a hen roost — And squawking in many a hen roost. 6 Do they write to his friends that he's drinking, And gambling his money away — Pretend it was done without thinking, Or trying to lead them astray? From Death with grim visage inviting, With horror their souls will recoil; And demons will get them for writing, And deal with them " 'cording to Hoyle!" And deal with them " 'cording to Hoyle!"

Text: Golden Songster. Music: "Do They Miss Me at Home?" Good Old Songs. Transposed from Bfa to C.

THE

VOCAL

MINER

157

H t l l

UP

ikiMiVilLbl

Air: Lilly Dale H. S. Thompson

J. A. Stone £

i

£

¿ ' J

P

When the gold

i

£

5

£

fev_er

raged, I

k

D

_G

5

w a s d o _ i n g v e r _ y well, W i t h m y G

J) J ) 'J friends all

a _ round, young and old;

C

m

G

bade

them fare .well, D,J t

CHORUS

Oh

i

P

min_ers!

h

^

&

D i—

£

land

of

gold.

D

hun

C

gry

and

PF

cold,

Though

G

poor I'll r e - t u r n tQ m y home far a . w a y ; So fare.well to

D7

the land of

2 'Twas a hard thing to part from those little ones so gay, That were playing in the yard round the door, And my wife sobbed aloud as I started away, Saying, "Farewell I'll see you no more!"

3 Now the little gold locket my wife used to wear, Seems to fade by disease every breath; Once happy and gay, now the picture of despair, And those little ones all paler than death.

4 I dreamed I was at home in the orchard tread, With those loved ones so gay it did seem, As I reached for the apples that hung o'er my head, Disappointed I woke from my dream.

5

Cold, wet and hungry, I've slept on the ground, When those visions of happiness came, But sad and disheartened, awoke by the sound, Of the screech-owl that lit on my claim.

1 5 8 "«I T H E

MINER'S

LAMENT,

I

and

G

n

the

Gk Ok

E

P

longtime a _ g o , 7

And e m _ b a r k e d for

poor m i n _ e r s ,

G

'Twas a

, Go

gold.

6 I toil'd night and day with the hope of gaining wealth, Through the cold winter's rain with delight; But, alas! sad misfortune has ruined my health, So, my fond friends at home, all good night.

Text: Original California Songster. Music: "Lilly Dale," American Songs. Transposed from B b to G.

THE m i n e r ' S LAMENT, I XS~ 159

,11

» (I Air: I'll Sing No More Until I Drink

Vainly I strive to make a "live" at mining, Toiling until my very heart is sick; No wonder, then, you see me thus repining, For I've gone as far as a mortal can on tick.

chorus:

For I've gone as far as a mortal can on tick, Here's health to thee! I'll sing no more until I drink. 2 Each breeze doth make my ragged coat tail flutter, My heart is cold that whilom beat so light, And rawhide pancakes, guiltless all of butter Have made me what I am — a sorry sight. 3 'Tis worse than useless this constant hoping To grow rich suddenly and leave this soil, I feel it as the slap-jacks down I'm choking; Oh! never, never shall I make my pile. 4 When sable night her curtain draws around me, Old loved home scenes my rapt attention win; But morning's light dispels the dream that bound me, I wake to find that I am "done gone in."

Text: Johnsons Comic Songs,

160

-m

T H E m i n e r ' S L A M E N T , II

THE MINER'S LAMENT, 1)1 Air: Irish Dragoon D. G. Robinson I've just come down from the mines, Where for months I dug and toiled, In searching for that yellow dust Till all my clothes were spoiled: I've picked and dug, and packed and lugged, And every honest scheme I've tried on, Till hunger made me eat at last The mule I used to ride on. CHORUS:

With a whack, etc.

2 But still I kept at work, Till the rain in torrents poured, The Grizzlies came and stole my grub, And I was fairly floor'd, Till faint and sick I dropped my pick, And off to Sacramento started; I found the houses there 'tis true, But the streets had all departed.

3 Then I got on board a boat, And to San Francisco came, Where I found that rain and mud had made The streets about the same. In wand'ring round, a man I found With sounding lead and grappling gear, And overheard the words I read: "Last appearance of Divier."

4 Being hungry I applied At our City Fathers' Hall, And was told they'd nothing there to give; Their wants required it all; I then went in and took some gin, But soon I felt a gentle tapping Which made me feel as though I had A touch of spirit rapping.

5 Tho' the rapper wam't no spirit, He appeared and seemed to think The chosen spirits of our State Have alone the right to drink. For soon he found beneath the ground A filthy place, and there resigned me, Where I lay that night, till morning light, When they took me out and fined me. THE

MINER'S

LAMENT,

III

161

6 But I've pleasant news to tell you Which your generous hearts will warm; There's some people in our city Who are threatened with a storm, Its roar they say will cross the Bay, Then echo far through vale and highland, And blow some floury men away To the shades of Angel Island. 7 But the prettiest joke of all, And to tell it is no sin, How some people's calculations Often get them sucked in. A dealer swore three times or more, For singing songs he'd flay somebody, But what surprise bedimmed his eyes When he found this thing was bloody.

Text: Comic Hits.

162

"^¡3 T H E

MINER'S

LAMENT,

III

I M SAD AND LONELY HÖRE

HESE SONGS offer prospects of home viewed from the West, with either a tear or a sigh of relief. "I'm Sad and Lonely Here," to the tune of "Oft in the Stilly Night," begins by complaining of the fear that "some fighting man" will pound its narrator, who ends with a wish to suffer rather the "brindle cow / That kicks so in the morn." The speaker in "I Often Think of Writing Home" spends his time, even more often, arguing that he should not, and finishes by associating manhood itself with not writing. "The Miner's Dream," sentimental as it is in its blurred recollection of a golden youth in another place, is interesting in its oblique view of the miners' common expectation of making a quick killing. They all seem to have left marvelously patient wives back home. The other view is given in "Do They Miss Me at Home? A Parody," which ironically enumerates the people who will "miss" the prospector, for very unsentimental reasons. He rushed not so much for gold as from debts. In "The Last Good-bye" our "wild and golden shore" acquires some dark and mortal associations for the miner whose old companions die off around him.

164

I'M S A D A N D L O N E L Y

HERE

I'M SAD AND LONELY HERE Air: Oft in the Stilly Night J. A. Stone

Sir J. Stevenson

GV

c

E

m I'm

i

sad and

w lone_ly

I

dare not speak, for i•

h —

J'

here, Though jcy

fear

at

G

1

there would camp for C CHORUS

F

£

I'm

sad

and

C V I

dare

not

years to i

1

—

roam So

far

come, Be_ side

t

from

my

t

J> h r j f t ft

lone

F

m

would not

ly

C

pound me. » i—

M 1—

thee a

Peg_gy

£

G

C.

£

speak, for

fear

Some fight

ing

man

will

v

/ fy

gain;

;Pii But

Jane.

7

1 G

£

1/

Were

*

here, Though joy and wealth s u r _ round k

mey

E

Some fight_ing man will

J

home I

V

£

r — y —

I

fl

and wealth s u r _ round

c.

F

C

*

w

me,

C

£ pound me.

I long have looked for gold, But little have I found; I own that I've been sold, For 'tis not in the ground. I feel "as how" I'd sooner plow, Yes, hoe or husk the com; Or even milk the brindle cow That kicks so in the morn.

Text: Golden Songster. Music: "Oft in the Stilly Night," Violin Primer.

i'm sad a n d l o n e l y h e r e xs- 165

1 OFTEN THINK OF WRITING HOME Air: Irish Molly O J. A. Stone

m

i>

U

j . I

of

ten

É

5 write;

A

s

think of

F

light;

5

Ü Ü I do,

£

let _ ter now and

But

C,

o

And

I'm

i_t

riß, t i l l

C.

kf, J "pen

a

it

l

keeps a man a

J> and

m

1

I'll

do

as

d

>IJ

r e _ t u r n , and

5= For

« Rom_ans

¿ahi

tell them all

I

k e,

IJ

r ink"

is

5

jr1—

w r i t - i n q don't

a

ver

j' i

know

j ' '4

hump_ing 'round, to keep up w i t h l d L

y

scarce with peo_ple

in

i

the mines,

d i-,

mount to much, un

And

a

u

j-,

^

^

less

you

have the

3 I've half a mind to drop a line and tell them I'm alive, And watch the California boats whenever they arrive, For I intend to home return, whene'er I feel inclined, Then drop a line informing them I've lately changed my mind.

I O F T E N T H I N K OF W R I T I N G

HOME

5

G,

J' j J»

C

i

the times, And

i j = | dimes.

2 If I would write them every mail I know it would them please; But neighbors would then flock around them, like a swarm of bees — And great would be the cry abroad that such a man's a fool, And if he was a friend of mine, I'd have him sent to school.

166

de_

a

I F,

dom

me w i t h

*

Rom_ans

I

sel

get, which fills

C

CHORUS

i

I

y

c/

£

£

then

here with

5

let

e

^ j: J'

ver

V Ft=i

èh

while

E

w r i t _ ing homey but

E

— v 1àJ

P=Jk

m

1

4 I like to live among the hills and pleasant mountain towns, And like the cities better since they drove away the hounds; But were they fifty times as fair, for all I would not fail To be a man forevermore, and write them every mail.

Text: Golden Songster. Music: "Irish Molly O," in P. W. Joyce, Old Irish Folk Music and Songs (Dublin: Hodges, Figgis & Co., 1909). Transposed from F to C. I OFTEN

THINK

OF WRITING

HOME

W

167

THE MINER S DREAM Air: Nelly Bly J. A. Stone

#

S. C. Foster

The

m i n _ e r when

C

he

FK

goes to

sleep,

L

soon

his

friends at

to

home, w h o m

snore;

C

r Dreams a _ b o u t

be_gins

G7 y

he

may

see

no

more;

A

G7

É love_ly

wife

or

sis

L

£ haps a

fa

AT — f -J

É

will

you,

he

old

and

r

will

have left

G7

gray,

f¿ > — —

say

C

may

~

P P

ther

r p i—v—F

Now

t e r dear

p a

lis

J>

song t h a t ' s called the

C

ther good and

p

min_er's

p

ten

^ p

dream? 'Twill

while

I

sing

p

^

^

joy and c o m _ f o r t

3 His boyhood days are past and gone, for now he is a man — Is going to California to try the pick and pan; Bright visions now of happiness are dancing o'er his mind; Disturb him not, but let him dream so long as he's inclined. 4 His mind is home among the fields of wheat and yellow corn — Sits down beneath an apple tree, all shady in the morn — But morning comes — and at his door a neighbor gently knocks; He wakes, and finds himself in bed among the hills and rocks.

168 n

the

miner's

dream

A

C

2 His boyhood years return again, his heart is filled with j o y Is rolling hoops or playing ball as when he was a boy. 'Tis winter time — he's skating now, of which he was so fond; 'Tis summer now — he's swimming in the old familiar pond!

Text: Golden Songster. Music: "Nelly Bly," Minstrel Songs.

kind.

i—b—h——1—J^-

G7 £

Per_

p. P ^ E r

F. h

^

mo

— —élf i —

you,

be_hind;

bring-

AND THUS HE SPOKE Air: The Fatal Separation

J. A. Stone One stormy night, when winds blew wild Around his cabin door, A miner sat on a three legg'd stool — The reason, it had not four. CHORUS:

And thus he spoke, while from his eye A tear rolled down his cheek — "Oh, give me back my little home, For that is all I seek.

2 "I once possessed a cheerful heart, A poor though happy home, Until misfortune did us part, And doomed me here to roam.

3 "The cry of GOLD gave life to life, A ray of hope appeared; I started in the hellish strife, And found it as I feared.

4

"The wind is howling worse and worse — I know not what it means, Nor do I care a single curse, For I have burned my beans!"

Text: Golden

Songster.

AND

THUS

HE

SPOKE

169

DO THEY MISS MB AT HOME? A Parody. M. Taylor

S. M. Grannis

U t

i Do

they

miss

D

i' be

an

as

jhj. £

me,

know

I

ig

I

p

[>

that

the

men

a

A

,

5

J

mea

sure,

i

k

j

j>

m To

know that

wish

ing

have

Oh, yes, 'twould be joy

they

MISS

ME

AT

HOME?

be_yond

A,

El

that

Were

ji ji b }> ;i

¿Mil

i,h ft Js' know

died,

D

roam.

To

5

h b U. miss

me

The bankers who loaned me their money, On sureties made by my self, Must deem it remarkable funny To miss me, and with me, their pelf; But now they had better be civil, And bleed some one else in their turn; For I think it would bother the devil, My whereabouts ever to learn.

DO T H E Y

£

w e r e here;

swin

A

where

To

he

at

The merchant, the butcher and the baker Have filled up their books with my name. And even the village shoe-maker 'Gainst me has a long standing claim, And there is Old Regan, my tailor, Who dunned me so long for his pay, And Jimmy O'Brien, the jailer — I'm glad to be out of their way.

170 "«I

i-. j

the friends who would

A

5

£

i' now

'Twould

A^,

c

nor _ ant

me?

3=

Were say

r> p r

miss

E7

£J=. f-

they

E7

sur_ance most dear

4= trust

home, do

A

J )

A

£

at

L

I i d

me

m

home.

"

There's Carter, whose daughter I courted, While I run up a bill at his store — If stories are true now reported — He'll follow me all the land o'er; But blast him, I've reached California, And by a new name I will roam, And never a judge or attorney Shall catch me and jug me at home.

Text: Diggers' Song Book. Music: "Do They Miss Me at Home?" Good Old Songs. Transposed from Bb to A.

DO T H E Y

M I S S M E AT H O M E ?

171

THE LAST GOOD-BYE Air: Lily Bell

J. A. Stone In my ear their words are ringing, Though I see their forms no more, Still to hope I'm fondly clinging, On this wild and golden shore. Dreams of home, whene'er I slumber, Carry me to friends so dear; Morning comes, and with it hunger, Mingled with a transient tear. CHORUS:

Oh, never, no, no, never, Shall I, till the day I die, Once forget those friends so clever, Bidding me the last good-bye!

2 When the miner, cold and weary, To his camp returns at night, All around looks cold and dreary, Gold has vanished from his sight! When at home his name is spoken, Does some loved one weep or sigh? Or, are vows so sacred broken, Given with the last good-by! 3 'Neath an oak beside the mountain, Stands a miner's lonely grave, Near a cool and sparkling fountain, Far beyond life's troubled wave; Now his friends are sadly weeping, "Can it be he's dead and gone?" Yes, in death he now lies sleeping, Sleeping gently and alone. 4 Though I love the mountains dearly, Where the savage, wild, doth roam, Better still and more sincerely Do I love my good old home! When I'm roaming through the canons, 'Mong the fir trees, dark and high, Brings to mind my old companions Bidding me the last good-bye!

Text: Golden

172

Songster.

THE

LAST

GOOD-BYE

TÇEI} P T O r ? FOR Ç0IÏ2E!

E B E G I N here with two songs about going home. "Then Hurrah for Home!" bids adieu to this "world of rags and dirt," and "The Miner's Farewell" is shouted at the "dismal, dark ravines." Both songs reveal the miner's habit of locating the promised land elsewhere — even if it is only back where he had come from — rather than doubting its existence. To relieve such bitter sentiments about the gold fields we have added a curious piece called "The Bagged Coat." Its theme is that that which doesn't glitter may yet be gold, and it records the sad but successful efforts of a lucky-striker "to fathom out deception" back home. It counters the "Old Folks at Home" idyll with the "Noble Primitive" motif. Those Western gullies, it seems, were athrob with honest strangers. The last song, "On Board the Steamer," is a piece of jolly equivocation. Its narrator is so happy to be going that he hasn't a bad word for anybody. He even shakes hands with the sea: "Good bye! good bye! the raging main, / Long may thy billows roar."

1 7 4 "^J

THEN

HURRAH

FOR

HOME!

5U W

§

FOR

50IQE!

Air: A F e w Days

J. A. Stone

s

ï

i 'm

g o _ i n g home to

stop a _ w h i l e ; Fare D

Fare_well !

^

fore

go

we'll

i bank

ing

take

a

smile, Then

«

thieves I

will

not

me

take

my

lit

CHORUS

tie

dust,

for

home!

These

s

1

Fare_well! D

with

hur_rah -•

trust,

fc

4

— J — J — J J

Be

G

£

i

i

well!

7

R -1

Fare w e l l !

7

But

G

Then h u r _ r a h

for

home!

C ï

i Al

though

I

S

like the dig_gings, Fare_wel I! D7,

C

Fare_well!

Al

G

È

I though

I

i

like

the

dig_gings,

c

I'm

going

to

0,

leave.

For

G

al

ways

be w i t h

you,

Fare_well!

can't

-

al

ways

'

be

with

h — =

'

you, Then

hur

J)

Fare_well!

F = t = l f

£

rah

^

L

r can't

I

for

—

For

I

— «

home!

2 Oh, won't I have some high-old times Farewell! Farewell! Telling yarns about the mines? Then hurrah for home! I'll leave this world of rags and dirt, Farewell! Farewell! And wear a plug and ruffle shirt! Then hurrah for home! THEN

HURRAH

FOR HOME!

W

175

3 I'll put on airs like Harry Meiggs, Farewell! Farewell! Live on oysters, ham and eggs, Then hurrah for home! I'll sink enough to pay my fare, Farewell! Farewell! Return when tired of staying there. Then hurrah for home!

Text: Golden Songster. Music: "A Few Days," Golden Wreath.

176

THEN

HURRAH

FOR

HOME!

EQIIJEIfS

F ^ p m E L L

Aire: Jeanette and Jeanot M. Taylor

*

1 * 3 =

I

am

G

L

go

ing ,

L

ft

f left

#

l^1

a_way,

far

a

way

light

in

this

f r e e and my

rf

1}\ a

glad — ly

mil

j )

feel

the

P

J, I

j)

have been h — «V1

^ anx

a

ing

ious

to

re

B1

roam,

I

M J >

will

bid

J> er,

a

void

of

J

ft

ly

now

woe,

J>lj

see my

e

For

I've

I

i

go.

And ' t i s 5

5= long

a

JS

dieu,

For

P f

ev

er

k to

i '

A

heart was

h — JJ t u r n , and

l

tho'

A

Ji 1J^ my

my

k, — j — i - j — i

—

£

j-,

Yet

G

ft ft ^ ^

wan_der v J ) .

J i

7

J, 1j,

*

to

El

State

ß

J

lion_aire, and glad

ft•

to

the home, Which

A!

A

h ^ h - f t

to

State

h = i

G

made my_self

un

J»

gold_en

— k — V — j ^ J

and

K

A7

t' J ' ^

i

J)

E

go,

El

I

ft

J^

long a

is

J)

OL

s — i heart

far

}\ |J

A

t r u e , And

k -H -J

I'm

1-J—i

'

friends once more, Bear me

7

o

D

£ safe_ly

on,

ye

a n _ g r y waves,

un

to

my

na

tive

shore.

2 Then farewell, my mining friend, you may have my pick and spade, I have got my pile at last, and no longer need their aid. I am going to a land where my aged parents dwell, And the pleasures offered by the sight no strange tongue can tell; Then good bye to heavy bread, and the rugged paths I've tread. I am going to a country where I shall be better fed. Then good bye to mouldy beans, and to dismal, dark ravines, I shall have a better prospect now, for I have ample means. THE

MINER'S

FAREWELL

177

3 'Tis my wish for miners all, that each one may make a pile, And be able to come after me, in a very little while, For their hardships have been heavy, and their trials very great, And most of them are guided by a very fickle fate. Could I realize a wish, and have things as I would like, I would ask that all my mining friends might quickly make a strike. I would wish them bags of gold, that they all might cross the main, Meeting with their friends and relatives, no more to pan again.

Text: Diggers' Song Book. Music: "Jeanette and Jeanot," Temperance

178

t h e miner's

Songster. Transposed from F to D.

farewell

T P

J I G G E D

GOflT

J. Woodward

J. E. Johnson

Oh, what a world of flummery — there's nothing but deceit in it — So you'll find, if you'll mind, as through life you travel on; Old and young, rich and poor, every one you meet in it, All judge you by appearances, and I'll prove it in my song. Eight years ago I left New York — I hadn't nary red, sirs; My folks were rich, but wouldn't lend a single dollar note; So I started off across the plains, and really almost dead, sirs — I had no hat, no shirt, no boots, and this very ragged coat. 2 But being in the land of gold, my spirits soon got lighter — I got a pick and shovel, and I started off to work; I made a very lucky strike — my prospects soon got brighter — I made a handsome fortune, though I worked like any Turk. And then I thought that I'd return, and see my friends at home, sirs; So I bought a first class passage on board of a steamboat. I had a heap more cash then than when I 'gan to roam sirs, But to fathom out deception I kept my ragged coat.

3 The boat was very crowded, but I got a first rate berth, sirs, And tried to make myself at home with the passengers on board; But their behavior oftentimes it caused me lots of mirth, sirs — I'd commence a conversation, but they wouldn't say a word. When I heard a silly puppy say, though lowly he did breathe it, "It's a shame to let a ragged man in this part of the boat"; Said I, "You foppish rascal, there's a good heart beats beneath it — So don't despise a man because he wears a ragged coat."

4 My joumey being ended, I put my foot on shore, sirs, Glad enough, indeed, I was of them to get relief. I walked up to my cousin's and straight knocked at the door, sirs, But he banged it in my face again, as though I was a thief. I told him plainly who I was — my face he didn't know, sirs. I told him I had made a pile — he quickly chang'd his note; He wanted then to borrow, but, said I, "Oh, dear me, no, sirs, For you despised the man because he wore a ragged coat."

5 Then I called on a young lady, who I thought I'd like to marry, And settle down in handsome style, but I'll tell what occurred; When I popped the question to her, said she, "Oh, dear, Lord Harry, The idea of such a thing as that is perfectly absurd. My beau must be a handsome man, dressed in the heighth of fashion — But you, with your long hair and beard, look like some ugly goat; My husband must have lots of cash for me to cut a dash on, And I couldn't think of wedding one who wore a ragged coat."

THE

BAGGED

COAT

^

179

6 I soon got quite disgusted with the fashionable throngs, sirs, And quickly left the city although it gave me birth. To California back I came, and wrote this little song, sirs — I love its hills and valleys — 'tis the fairest spot on earth, Here, if an honest man's in want, a stranger will relieve you; I'm very sure you'll all allow it's true now what I've wrote. You don't judge us by appearances, which ofttimes will deceive you, And you don't despise a man because he wears a ragged coat.

Text: Johnsons

180

THE

Songs.

RAGGED

COAT

OR B O £ P

TÇE

STE^EQE^

Air: Midnight Hour

p

m On

J'

p

board the steam_er

J'

h

noise_ful

J

glee;

J

>

^HUKUÒ —J-1—i the

pleas _ ant

*

b

times, The

sea.

But

A1 m1 M'

fi

moun_tains

ne'er

È

±

good old camp

v 'CJ up

CJ the

round/

high

Then

^ — — j Ls

—

4

for _ get

and

grizz_ ly

Jtfj'

i

bear,

, J'

1

those

is

f, A>

±

j'

5E=5EE3

*

J'

^

*

home.ward bound, With joy_ful hearts and

^ - j— —

—

j

J i

Good bye! Good tye! Shake hands all

trav _ el

p

fi I r j -

The

0 m

m

mines, The moun .tains fresh and

fair.

'Tis twelve at night, the moon shines bright, The ship glides gently o'er the waves; T h e soul is filled with pure delight, And danger boldly braves. T i s mirth and jollity on board — The mind runs wild as home draws nigh • No cheerless look, no angry word, As homeward bound you fly. Good bye! good bye! to all again — The long and tedious voyage is o'er; Good bye! good bye! the raging main, Long may thy billows roar.

Text: Golden Songster. Music: " 'Tis Midnight Hour," Good Old Songs.

ON B O A R D T H E S T E A M E R

m"

181

CALIFORNIA AS IT IS AflD WAS

In "The Days of '49" a narrator, called Tom Moore, sketches an assortment of old pals like Monte Pete, Big Reuben, and Rackensack Jim, and the portraits are very funny until we are reminded of the perils of such sentimentality by the last stanza, with its concluding lines: "For the country was right and the boys all white / In the days of '49." J. R. Mains sought to enlarge the arena of the elect in "The Good Old Days of '50, '1, and '2." although his characters are less concrete and seem to be exclusively "lawmen," and he is content with such phrases as "life's thorny pathways." The song "Ye Ancient Yuba Miner" offers a rugged biography somewhat marred by the reiterated bad pun on the pronunciation "Yu-bee" in its refrain "Yuba Dam!" The "Song of the Argonauts" is a reunion song whose decorative diction and mythical framework reveal the misty enchantment that distance has lent to the view. Prettier, and still farther from the lusty real thing, "The Land We Adore" celebrates the transition from, gold rush days to the time of the orange and date groves. Even more irrelevant to the gold rush is its salute to woman as the "first at the tomb and the last at the cross." Our volume ends with the nearly obligatory "Oh My Darling Clementine," written by Percy Montrose in 1884 as a college song.

184

CALIFORNIA

AS IT IS A N D

WAS

CALIFORNIA AS IT IS AJJD WAS Air: I Remember, I Remember J. A. Stone

tH U Ç> B

J

Mrs. E. Fitzgerald

m I

h

r e _ m e m . bei:

, , P ft ft

r, V

c a b _ in

I

r

still

is

n

in

lone

i

the k

I

used

to

E1 lone

J

h J ^

stand_ing

lA % •r h h d a y _ light

r e . mem.ber; when

*—^

till

neath

the

used

to

used

t o - mine,

a

su

gar

My

«1.

J)

pine;

From

P (f P p sun

w e n t out

of

•—

sight,

A

A

dig

for

gold, and

At I

I

•

be

J- > > morn_ing,

once

dig

mend

P '

V

my clothes at

E for

gold,

and

mend

J

night.

i

A.

A

E

P

my

clothes

P at

night.

2 I remember, I remember, when grub was very high, W e had to live on pork and beans, 'twas little pork indeed, And miners were very poor, could not afford to buy; With enough to grease the frying-pan, we thought we'd struck a lead. With enough to grease the frying-pan, we thought we'd struck a lead. 3 I remember, I remember, when we flumed American River. The floods came down, swept off our dam, and all hands damned together; We lost our time and mining tools, and everything we had, Instead of leaving a pile we were left without a scad. Instead of leaving a pile we were left without a scad. 4 I remember, I remember, when the Yuba used to pay, With nothing but a rocker, five hundred dollars a day; We used to think 'twould always last, and would with perfect ease, If Uncle Sam had only stopped the coming of Chinese. If Uncle Sam had only stopped the coming of Chinese.

CALIFORNIA

AS I T

IS A N D W A S

185

5 I remember, I remember, we're compelled to pay a tax, Which people say is gambled off — I wonder if those are facts? And certain ones are trying to give our mineral lands away, To build a railroad from the States, to San Francisco Bay. To build a railroad from the States, to San Francisco Bay. 6 I remember, I remember, when we hadn't any laws, W e then could live in peace among the diggers and their squaws; But now it's Whigs and Democrats, and Know Nothings of late, All fighting after office, with a chance to rob the State. All fighting after office, with a chance to rob the State. 7 I remember, I remember, when Captain Lynch was boss, W e had no use for prison brigs, we hadn't that, old hoss; But now it's thieves on every side, political thieves in flocks, All promised office if they wait till Frank Pierce buys more rocks. All promised office if they wait till Frank Pierce buys more rocks.

Text: Original California

Songster.

Music: "I Remember, I Remember," Golden Wreath. Transposed from Et> to D.

186

CALIFORNIA

AS I T IS A N D

WAS

OLD

FOHTY-fllllE

Air: Mrs. Tickle Tobey M. Taylor I well remember those old times, The days of forty-nine, sir, When miners gaily singing went Into each golden mine, sir. When buckskin coats and patched up pants Were fashions of the day, sir, And when a mining claim would yield The biggest kind of pay, sir. CHORUS:

W h a c k f o l d e d a , ri t o l lol d a ,

to my whack fol de da. 2 Those highly interesting times When miners used to think, sir, That whisky straight was very cheap At fifty cents a drink, sir. When miners made an ounce a day In any kind of dirt, sir, And oftentimes would freely pay Ten dollars for a shirt, sir.

3 Those highly interesting times When never would a man, sir, Think claims were good unless they paid Ten dollars to the pan, sir. ' When merchants always got the dust For what they had to sell, sir, But never were afraid to trust, Men paid them up so well, sir.

4 I do respect those good old times, For men were honest then, sir, The diggings paid, men couldn't stop To cheat their fellow men, sir. This salting and this jumping claims, Was not considered fair, sir, You ask a man where you might work, "He'd tell you anywhere, sir."

5 And anywhere you went to work A fortune could be made, sir, With nothing but a rocker, pan, A bucket or a spade, sir. And sometimes with a butcher's knife You'd work a little while, sir, And ere you knew what you had done, You'd made a bully pile, sir. OLD

FORTY-NINE

X3-

187

6 If one was found a rascal then, Men took his case in hand, sir, And made him go to pulling hemp, Or drove him from the land, sir, But men are more enlightened now, And stringent laws will make, sir, And officers enforce the same, To raise a poker stake, sir. 7 But now, alas! those times have flown, W e ne'er shall see them more, sir, But let us do the best we can, And dig for golden ore, sir. And if we strike a "decent lead" Let's work and not repine, sir, But take things easy as they did In good old forty-nine, sir.

Text: Diggers' Song Book.

188

OLD

FORTY-NINE

THE DAYS OF '49 C. Rhoades (Bensell) (\ìì

G

1UH0' ' J i f f ;

i

Here

VJ

ft'

you 1

see

old

Tom Moore A

tHjm_mer

relic

b

A

[!f M r £ fi e A W j ^ [1/ir ty too

they hey

call

me

now, But

i

heart

is

filled w i t h

G

D]

days

of

old,

G

the

days of gold,

_

I

D7,

M.—j. I days

of

gold,

the

And I

5

P

for

praise

For

D'

"rir•'Jl

Jl

grieve and pine, For the CHORUSD7

— of

for_ty_nine.

87

days

of

For

the

e

!

5 the

ÌEE5

b

e

The days

old,

I

Ft

oft_en

If

ty

B ^,

,

of

b

7

'——'=»•

-• •days

b y _ gone days,

pir

j.

*

of

b

woe,

£

i = 5

what care

7

my

Arr. E. Zimmer e

JKJ» I J J ^ f o r _ t y _ nine.

2 I had comrades then a saucy set, They were rough I must confess But staunch and brave, as true as steel, Like hunters from the west; But they like many another fish, Have now run out their line; But like good old bricks they stood the kicks, Of the days of '49. There was Monte Pete, I'll ne'er forget The luck that he always had, He'd deal for you both night and day, Or as long as you had a scad. One night a pistol laid him out, 'Twas his last lay out in fine, It caught Pete sure, right bang in the door, In the days of '49. There was another chap from New Orleans, Big Reuben was his name, On the plaza there with a sardine box He opened a faro game, He dealt so fair that a millionaire He became in course of time, Till death stept in and called the turn In the days of '49. THE

DAYS

OF

'49

189

5 There was Kentuck Bill, one of the boys Who was always in for a game; No matter whether he lost or won, To him 'twas all the same, He'd ante a slug; he'd pass the buck; He'd go a hat full blind. In the game of death Bill lost his breath In the days of '49. 6 There was New York Jake, the butcher boy, So fond of getting tight; Whenever Jake got full of gin He was looking for a fight. One night he ran against a knife In the hands of old Bob Kline And over Jake we had a wake In the days of '49. 7 There was North Carolina Jess, a hard old case, Who never would repent. Jess was never known to miss a meal, Or ever pay a cent. But poor old Jess like all the rest, To death did at last resign, And in his bloom he went up the flume In the days of '49. 8 There was Rackensack Jim who could out roar A buffalo bull you bet, He roared all night; he roared all day; He may be roaring yet. One night he fell in a prospect hole, 'Twas a roaring bad design, And in that hole Jim roared out his soul In the days of '49. 9 Of all the comrades I had then There's none left now but me, And the only thing I'm fitting for Is a Senator to be; The people cry as I pass by, "There goes a traveling sign; That's old Tom Moore, a bummer sure, Of the days of '49." 10 Since that time how things have changed In this land of liberty, Darkies didn't vote nor plead in court Nor rule this country, But the Chinese question, the worst of all In those-days did not shine, For the country was right and the boys all white In the days of '49. Text and music: "The Days of '49," arr. by E. Zimmer (San Francisco: Sherman & Hyde, 1876). Transposed from B*> to G. 190

-«J T H E

DAYS

OF

'49

T H E GOOD O L D D A Y S O f ' 5 0 , ' 1 , R f l D

'2

Air: The Days of '49 J. R. Mains

Tom Moore has sung of '49, And the Pioneers who came Across the plains and 'round the horn In search of gold and fame, But in his song he tells us not One word of those we knew, Those pioneers of the good old days Of '50, '1, and '2.

2 There's "Kentuck Bill' and "Monte Pete," He holds them up to fame, New York Jake and Ransack Jim And old lame Jess the same, But men like these were not the boys So hardy, tough and true, That flumed the streams and worked the mines, In '50, '1, and '2. 3 There's Captain Love and gallant Bums, Dave Buell tall and brave, Likewise Bob Fall, and also Thorn, Were the dread of Robber's Cave. They would trace them over the mountain steep, •Ravines and canons through, Those men of pluck in the good old days Of '50, '1, and '2. 4 There was Joaquin and three fingered Jack, To catch tnem seemed in vain, Though followed on their bloody track O'er mountain, hill and plain, But they at last were forced to yield To men whom well I knew, Those gallant souls who knew no fear Of '50, '1, and '2. 5 Where are they now, that gallant band, Those friends that once were mine? Some sleep beneath the willow's shade; Some 'neath the lofty pine, Whilst some have sank beneath the wave, Deep in the ocean's blue, Those cherished friends of bygone years Of '50, '1, and '2. T H E GOOD OLD DAYS

OF ' 5 0 ,

'1,

AND ' 2

^ 1 9 1

6 I once had wealth it brought new friends, I thought them true I'll own, But when kind fortune ceased to smile Those summer friends had flown, And now I wander on alone Life's thorny pathways through, But I'll ne'er forget those dear old friends Of '50, '1, and '2. 7 Tis true there's some old pioneers, That unto wealth have grown, But there are many that are poor, And I am one I'll own, But never shun a ragged coat If the heart beneath is true, Of a pioneer of the good old days Of '50, '1, and '2. 8 And now kind friends I've sung my song, "I've had my little speak," But when I think of those good old days, Tears ofttimes wet my cheek, We opened then the Golden Gate And its treasures unto you, We boys who came in '49, And in '50, '1, and '2.

Text: "The Good Old Days of '50, '1, and '2, Answer to 'The Days of '49,' " by J. Riley Mains (broadside; n.p., n.d.).

1 9 2 "«I T H E

GOOD OLD DAYS

OF ' 5 0 ,

'1,

AND

'2

YE

flUCIEJlT

Y U B f l J I I f l E H , O f T H E D A Y S Op ' 4 9 Air: Fine Old English Gentleman

S. C. Upham

i i

B7 y j)Ijs To

4À

you

o Yu

ft

who

sing a

ft

h

^

ba

ft

min_er,

ft

y

who cwned no real

ft

j.

ft

f*

(J)

when asked where he be_ longed, this son

es— t a t e ,

But

5

ft of

A I

Un_cle

Sam,

B7

ft fi h

scratched CHORUS

Did

his head a moment, then in accents clear and shrill, straightway ejacu

J.JLA

this

£

£

an_cient Yu_ba

fr

good old song; made by a Quak.er pate, Of an

n

an_cient

j)

I'll

js ^ j y

E

Min_er, of

B1

fi

lat_ed "Yu_ ba

E

5E

the days of

He

*

Dam!"

' f o r _ t y _ nine.

I'm told that simple was his food, he used no forks nor spoons, And with old flour and coffee-sacks he patched his trouser-loons; He was saucy, lousy, ragged, lank, but happy as a clam, And when interrogated in relation to the location from whence he hailed, he invariably replied, "Yuba Dam!" Did this grizzled Yuba miner, of the days of '49. On a prospecting tour one day, he struck it very rich, 'Twas on a little mountain stream, forninst the Yuba ditch; Said he, "this claim of mine I'll sell, my purse the dust will cram," But when questioned in relation to his antecedents, and from whence he came, he articulated, "Yuba Dam!" Did this lucky Yuba miner, of the days of '49. He started down to 'Frisco town, this man of no estate, On mule back first, by water then — but never mind the date, And on his way they questioned him, this son of Uncle Sam; They asked him the initials of his front name, the mine from whence he came, and then he placed his hand beside his mouth and roared out, "Yuba Dam!" Did this jolly Yuba miner, of the days of '49. Y E A N C I E N T Y U B A M I N E R , O F T H E DAYS O F ' 4 9

193

5 When he arrived in 'Frisco town, the mud was very deep, Said he, "my equilibrium now, I surely mean to keep"; But then the crowd they jostled him, and finally, in a jam, He was pitched headlong into the mud, and when fished out and asked where he belonged, he sputtered, "Yuba Dam!" Did this wilted Yuba miner, of the days of '49.

6 Into the "El Dorado" then, he went to try his luck, Said he, "I'll show those gamboliers a little Yuba pluck, I'll bust their cussed monte bank, for I am nary sham," But he soon emerged a wiser but badly busted individual, and to every question asked him, he replied, "Yuba Dam!" Did this busted Yuba miner, of the days of '49. 7 Soon on a stretcher he was laid, with his head all caved in, For the way that they had walloped him, was a shame and awful sin; All mashed and shattered was his head, as if butted by a ram; The doctor felt his corpus, the parson sung a psalm, and when they asked him from whence he came, he faintly whispered, "Yuba Dam!" Did this dying Yuba miner, of the days of '49.

8 The coroner soon an inquest held, and then at his command, They shoved old Yuba in a box, and dumped him in the sand, At midnight hour they buried him, without show, or pomp, or flam, And when at the last day Gabriel's trump shall sound, among the early risers, you bet, will be old "Yuba Dam!" That defunct and ancient miner, of the days of '49.

Text: "To the Pioneers of California, Ye Ancient Yuba Miner of the Days of '49," by Sam C. Upham (Philadelphia, 1878). Music: "Fine Old English Gentleman," Comic Songs. Transposed from E b to E.

194

YE

ANCIENT

YUBA

MINER,

OF T H E

DAYS OF

'49

SOJIG OF T H E ARGONAUTS Air: Auld Lang Syne S. C. Upham ß*

?I

We

11 are

I'

J

m

5

a s _ s e m _ b l e d here to_day_ A

E

J

i

e _ brate with grate_ful

J

i

hill

and

f

val _ ley fair,

Si

J-

j a

I J.

j

fi"

J

e r _ ras

f

capped with sncw. With HORUS

kind _ ly words we greet

you

i> 1 now,

Dear friends of

gold_en

days,

for

re

j

r

long a _ go

Oh,

E

£

H be

r

A

f

5

cher_ished

To

by_gone years: We

B'

B7 Ü

I

E J

frcm

on_eers,

E

hearts, E _ vents of

B1 come

Pi

A

I eel

band of

B7

ev_er_more/

The days

of

mem_bered days. The days of

auld

£

A

lang syne / Those

' F o r _ t y _ nine.

Fresh laurel-wreaths we bring to-day, To crown the Patriarch, Whose hand unlocked the golden ore, In gulch and canon dark. Old Pioneer! thy name we still In all our hearts enshrine; God's blessing rest upon thy head, Dear friend of auld lang syne!

3 W e are a band of Argonauts, Erst from Eureka State. By some the golden fleece was found, Whilst others mourned their fate. We digged in gulch and delved in mine, From morn till setting sun, With aching limbs and moistened brows — But perseverance won. SONG

OF

THE

ARGONAUTS

XS~ 1 9 5

4 No maiden's voice, with cheering words, Was heard in mine or camp — T h e miner's food was grizzly meat, And knot of pine his lamp. But changes great have taken place, Since days of 'Forty-nine, T h e miner now in comfort dwells, And kneels at woman's shrine.

5 Hillside, ravine and tule marsh Now blossom as t h e rose, And 'round Diablo's verdant base, T h e crystal streamlet flows. Now glory be to God on high! Let this our paean b e — And peace on earth, good-will to man, Our prayer, O God, to Thee!

Text: "Song of the Argonauts, or The Days of -'49," by Sam C. Upham (Philadelphia, 1876). Music: "Auld Lang Syne," Good Old Songs. Transposed from G to E.

1 9 6 "W S O N G

OF

THE

ARGONAUTS

g!)'' tía

E

i

*

THE ItflflD WE ADORE A

The gleam of

í

B>

A

J

e

J'J

J

da in,

E

start_ling

re_frain,

BL vine;

The

Jes

flcwn to

*A A

i

i

steam_whis

tie

1

B

gle

looks

out

its

7

F$

J J JLTTJ I i

—

long_er

are

jij

J

A

flap_jacks, our di

r*

1

r

il

re—turn

rare

ly

E

et

B

E I Vi

a

Rock.er

and

lume the

ra_

of

jij

yore, Like a

i

-

nev_er

more.

J

*

—

Be_yond the

Si

er

1

i U ^

ras.

Pa

to

the

cif

ic's

have

¥ lec_tions

A

back

Fri-

vis_ion

ing back like the mu

¥ Our thoughts wan_der

^

New fond r e c _ o l

E

chimes,

now seen,

CHORUS

go times, C o m e e c h _ o

BZ

dore,

ea

shrieks

Our camp_fires no

E7

r 'ij

long

the

the

O *

Pan and the

As

i ¡

i _ grant t r a i n s is seLdom new

m

SL

Jo

em

the f a r _ a _ w a y plains, From his e y _ r i e

down in dis

I

i i i'!

camp_fires of

tík seen on

I

the

land

lovd

sic

of

of

i

we

a

shore.

2 T h e T o m and t h e Sluice-box, once sparkling w i t h gold, No longer w a s h out the auriferous m o u l d ; T h e Q u a r t z Mill and C r u s h e r h a v e taken their place, A n d steam's declared v i c t o r again in t h e race. THE LAND

WE

ADORE

197

Our cabins now roofless and gone to decay, Like their tenants of old, are fast passing away; The grave on the hillside, with head-board decayed, Marks the spot where a comrade we long ago laid.

3 O woman, dear woman! pure as gold without dross, The first at the tomb and the last at the cross, Thy presence ne'er cheered us in camp nor in mine, In those long-ago days, the days of lang syne — When the toils of the day had drawn to a close, And wrapped in our blankets in silent repose, Our thoughts wandered back to our sweethearts and wives, The loved ones for whom we had periled our lives.

4 Now hamlets like magic to cities have grown, The ranchero has reaped the grain he has sown, The vine and the fig-tree are laden with fruit, And breezes blow soft there as tones of the lute; The orange-tree blossoms and fruits in the vale, The date and pomegranate, 'mid sand and 'mid shale, The filbert and almond, and manna of yore, Abound in the land that we love and adore.

5 The Tuolumne rolls on as in ages of yore, The Stanislaus laves its auriferous shore, The Bear and the Yube flow down to the sea, Bright flowers are still blooming, and green is each tree; The Sierras tower up in their helmets of snow, And the wild rose and tule still wave to and fro; Diablo, proud monarch, all grizzled and gray, Looms up in the distance his realm to survey.

6 Now fond recollections of long-ago times, Come echoing back like the music of chimes; Our thoughts wander back to the land we adore, Beyond the Sierras — Pacific's loved shore. But where are our comrades of long-ago days? Some with us are crowned' with laurels and bays, And others are here with locks frosted by age, Whose names add new lustre to history's page.

7 And Stevenson's veterans are present to-day, From Sonoma, La Paz, and from old Monterey — Heroes, who helped add to the Red, White and Blue A bright golden star, ever loyal and true. And others lie mouldering on the plains of the West, Their spirits have soared to the land of the blest, Where soon we shall meet on that far distant shore, Shall meet, and shall greet, and shall part nevermore. Text and music: "The Land We Adore," by Sam C. Upham (Philadelphia, 1877). Transposed from A to E. 1 9 8 "«J T H E

LAND

WE

ADORE

OH |HY DAHliIflG CLEMENTINE P. Montrose

m #

P. Montrose

M m In

a

cav_ ern,

in

a

D7

mine,

P

G

£ Dwelt a

min_er,

on,

Ex _ ca _ vat_ ing for

for_ty_nin

a

k D

er,

And

his daucfi_ter Cle_men.

CHORUS

tine.

D

can

G

w

7

Oh

my

,

tine, You are

d a r _ ling, Oh

my L

dar

G

ling, Oh my

dar _ ling

wm

Cle_men_

D

lost and gone f o r _ e v _ e r ,

Dred_ful

sor_ry,

Cle.men_tine.

Light she was, and like a fairy, And her shoes were number nine, Herring boxes, without topses, Sandals were for Clementine. Drove she ducklings to the water, Ev'ry morning just at nine, Hit her foot against a splinter Fell into the foaming brine. Ruby lips above the water, Blowing bubbles soft and fine, Alas, for me! I was no swimmer, So I lost my Clementine.

5 In a church-yard, near the canon, Where the myrtle doth entwine, There grow roses, and other posies, Fertilized by Clementine. Then the miner, forty-niner, Soon began to peak and pine, Thought he "oughter jine" his daughter, Now he's with his Clementine.

OH

MY

DARLING

C L E M E N T I N E

0=

199

7 In my dreams she still doth haunt me, Robed in garments soaked in brine, Though in life I used to hug her, Now she's dead, I'll draw the line.

Text and music: Henry R. Waite, College Songs (Boston: Oliver Ditson & Co., 1887).

200

OH

MY

DARLING

CLEMENTINE