Columbia Gold Mining and Water by Zina Abbott

In the California gold fields, there was one resource that was almost of greater worth than gold: WATER. Without the wet stuff, it was almost impossible to effectively remove the gold from the soil and crushed rock.

 

Stanislaus River with inset (ctsy Google Maps) showing relationship of Columbia and South Fork of the Stanislaus river to the Stanislaus River.

 Columbia in the southern Sierra Nevada Foothills, which today is preserved as a state park, is a mostly dry region with seasonal streams that flowed from the first rains in autumn or early winter until late spring or early summer after the rains ceased. The area very seldom received snowfall. The nearest river that carried snowmelt year around was the Stanislaus, but it was several miles from the gold-rich land of Columbia.

 

Originally known as "Hildreth's Diggings," gold was discovered in Columbia in March of 1850 by a party of miners, most of whom came from the state of Maine. In 1851, the Tuolumne County Water Company (TCWC) was founded to provide the water needs of both Columbia and the surrounding regions. The plan was to divert water from the South Fork of the Stanislaus River by means of flumes, ditches, and reservoirs. These carried water for long disances and were expensive to build. This resulted in high water rates for miners to wash their gold.

 

Water rates table courtesy Columbia State Park Museum

Water rates were quoted in “Miners Inches,” which legally measured the amount of water that flowed through an opening one inch in diameter under twenty pounds of pressure for twenty-four hours. The opening in the guage boxes could be increased or decreased by means of a sliding device. Guage boxes were placed in the water ditches wherever needed and checked by “ditch tenders.”

Disgusted over what they perceived to be unfair water rates, several miners banded together to create their own water company by diverting water from what they considered the more reliable Middle Fork of the Stanislaus River. When the sixty-mile project finished in 1858, it was described by a San Francisco newspaper as “the most stupendous work of the kind in California.” With the predictable supply now available, hydraulic mining using giant “monitors,”or hose nozzles, began operating by directing the powerful water force against the walls of Maine Ditch (The area that is now the parking lot for the state park), digging it deeper and deeper in search of gold.

 

Like the Tuolumne County Water Company, they soon realized the extensive cost in materials and labor that were involved in building flumes. In addition, by the time the water supply was ready to reach Columbia, the easy-to-mine placer gold were almost depleted. In 1859, this company went broke and it was put up for auction. Its network of flumes and ditches were purchased by the TCWC.

 

The transition did not go smoothly. Disgruntled shareholders of the defunct water company blew up flumes and ditches, threatened TCWC company trustees, and, it is believed, were responsible for killing several ditch tenders. It was not until 1861 that a truce was negotiated.

The TCWC continued to expand for several years. It bought several other water companies in the county. It considered expanding into Merced County, but changed their plans when it became apparent that both the population and water demand had dropped, which affected their revenues. After reorganizing and going through name changes several times, it was bought out by Pacific Gas & Electric Company in the 1920s.

Maine Ditch, Columbia, about 1870s

The Tuolumne County Water Company only handled water for commercial use, such as in first, placer mining, and, later, hydraulic mining. Water for domestic use was supplied by the New England Water Company organized in 1854. Why New England, you ask? The founders of Columbia plus many others came from New England. That is also the reason the main ditch south of the main part of town which carried the seasonal stream on which the town relied was named MAINE Gulch, not Main Gulch. This area was torn up during the years of hydraulic mining.

 

Daniel Fraser of New England Water Co., Ctsy Columbia State Park Museum

After the the first big fire in Columbia, the New England Water Company constructed seven cisterns beneath the streets of Columbia to hold water for domestic and fire-fighting use. A square lid to one of these cisterns may be seen today in front of the firehouse on State Street. This early water system remained in use until the 1950s.

 

There were also water ditches build along the edges of several of the streets in Columbia, remnants of which are still visible today. I’m not sure if that was part of the Tuolumne County Water Company, the New England Water Company, or built later to capture water runoff.

 ~o0o~

 In my most recent release, I've included issues surrounding water use both in Columbia and other mining communities in the Mother Lode foothills and how it affected the growing agricultural communities downstream. To find the book description and purchase link for Madeline, please CLICK HERE.

 

 

Sources:

The majority of my information came from the displays in the Columbia museum and the displays around Columbia State Park.

https://inspiredimperfection.com/adventures/columbia-state-historic-park-a-living-gold-rush-town/

 

 

 

 

 

The Water Closet

courtesy of: theplumber.com

Last month, I blogged about the kitchen sink. Since I often include the sink’s hand pump in my work, curiosity led me to find out exactly how water was brought to the home in order for the pump to work, which opened the door to another modern day convenience we take for granted―the water closet.

King Minus of Crete had the world’s first flushing water closet, with a wooden seat, over 2,800 years ago. Unfortunately, this luxury was lost in the rubble of the palace ruins and did not make an appearance again until 1594 when Sir John Harrington built a private privy for his godmother, Queen Elizabeth, and one for himself at his own home. Sadly, because of book he published with jokes and puns about his invention, the water closest wouldn’t see life again until 200 years later. Chamber pots were used inside the home, and like the Hohokam Indians who instituted a series of irrigation canals in the southwestern United States before their sudden disappearance in 1450 A.D., folks used the good ole outdoors, and no place in particular, as their water closet.

courtesy of: pinterest.com

The outhouse slowly gained acceptance in the early 1800’s, as the stench was overpowering. Most of these structures were made of wood, but some, such as Chief Magistrate William Byrd’s, were crafted of brick. His was said to have 5 holes, with the largest in the center of the semi-circle for his use. Thomas Jefferson devised an indoor water closet at his Monticello home using a system of pulleys the servants used to empty chamber pots. As is true with today’s standards, hotels in this era were viewed as luxurious and comfortable. Many hotel owners thought the outhouse troublesome and ugly and strove for a better method. Architect Isaiah Rogers fitted the Tremont Hotel in Boston with its first indoor plumbing unit in 1829. The Tremont was four stories tall and equipped with eight water closets on the ground floor at the rear of the central court. Water was drawn from a metal storage tank on top of the roof, using a simple water carriage system to remove tainted water to the city’s sewer system of hallowed out wooden pipes.

copper-lined closet with oak high tank 

 

 

As the sewer system gradually changed from wood pipes to lead and copper pipes, the water closet went through several changes. The conical-shaped hopper was invented first. Flushed by a valve directly connected to the bowl, it easily became a source of contamination. Around this time, the country had begun to take an interest in germs and hygiene, so a better bowl was need.  

The pan closet followed, with an upper earthenware basin and a shallow copper pan holding 3-5 inches of water as a seal around the base. One merely had to tip the pan, which operated on hinges, to discharge the contents into a large, cast iron bowl connecting to the drainage system. The washdown closet came next, using the same principles as the pan closet. The water was flushed from a direct line from an attic storage tank. William Campbell and James T. Henry obtained the first patent in 1857 for a plunger closet. John Randall Mann created the first siphonic closet in 1870. Three pipes delivered water into a basin; one fed the flushing rim around the edge of the basin, one discharged a ½ gallon of water rapidly into the basin which started the siphonic action, and the third provided the after flush.    

Several other English and American inventions, including the incorporation of piping heat throughout the home, would eventually turn the water closet into the bathroom of today. Hot and cold water taps helped to move the sink and tub from the main floor to upper floors. Free standing showers, fixtures for towels and bathrobes, carpeting instead of wooden planks, and heated seats keep this generation comfortable any time of year.

courtesy of: www.riverheadlocal.com

Photo Journal: Dry Grasses

Welcome to my introductory post for Cowboy Kisses. I’m the new girl on the blog. Unfortunately, my first opportunity to post came at a time I have been extremely busy doing what writers do. On top of that, I spent this past weekend at the Women Writing the West conference in Redmond, Oregon. It was a powerfully inspiring experience to me as a writer of the West. Unfortunately, it was so hectic getting ready to go, I did not get this post organized before I left. On the way home from the conference, as I looked through some of the photographs I took on the trip, I decided what I want to share.

My thanks to one of our speakers, Rebecca Lawton, a scientist whose work for many years involved the study of climate and hydrology.  Her duties included monitoring the Stanislaus River watershed, a river with which I am more familiar than many after having lived for years in Stanislaus County, California. I drove over this river many times and rafted down it several times—not whitewater rafting like you will find higher in the mountains, but on the tamer stretches just east of Oakdale. She spoke on climate and water in the West. Her comments about the New Melones Dam struck a chord with me because I have driven over this dam several times just in the past year. And, yes, the water level is discouragingly low.

Reservoir behind New Melones Dam in January 2015

While I stood on the side of the road near the New Melones Dam in January of 2015 which is the height of our rainy season, I took this photo of the reservoir. By noting where the waterline has been in the past you can see how low it was last year. Perhaps you can imagine how much lower the water level is by now after a summer of triple-digit heat and water released for irrigation in the San Joaquin Valley.

In spite of efforts to effectively preserve and manage water in the West, sometimes the climate and rain cycles have the final word on how much water is available. I recently wrote another post in which I discussed the water level of the Bagby Reservoir along the Merced River to the south of the Stanislaus River. The water level is so low the reservoir is but a memory. It is back to being the Merced River.

Rebecca’s talk reinforced one of the essential elements

Courtesy of High Desert Museum, Bend, OR

for writing authentically about the West. The North American West is for the most part a dry land. California and much of the West have experienced five years of drought. Even when there is not a drought, there is not an excess of water. Yes, there is rain and snow—too much at times, but not enough to naturally sustain a lush, green landscape all year. 

Outside of California and the Pacific coastal regions, much of the West makes up the High Desert, also known as the Great Basin. Compared to many parts of the world, the West is dry, dusty and perpetually short on water. In other words, it is an arid land.

This past year I wrote about the Eastern Sierra-Nevada region that typically has quite a bit of cool weather and months of snow. Yet, between the stands of evergreens and aspens it is a dry, high desert region. During my research trip in May I noticed the meadows had not greened up, but were still dry. On the windward side of these same mountains, there is more rain, but still the landscape is dry most of the year. Except for a few short months in winter and early spring when there is enough moisture to sprout a season of grass, the grasslands of the West are carpeted with the gold of dry grasses.

Near Bend, OR

On my trip north to Redmond, Oregon through parts of Siskiyou and Cascade mountains, I noticed the same trait.

To love the West, writers and their readers must embrace aridity. Along with the mountains, deserts and rivers, it is a part of the setting. For the balance of this post I decided to share a photo collection of dry grasses and weeds. I am not a botanist, so I have no intention of trying to identify their popular or scientific names. Instead, I encourage all of us to look for and find the beauty in a part of nature many of us often overlook and esteem as insignificant. It is not. In the West, beneath the majestic Ponderosa and Juniper trees, skirting the Piñon pines, the Manzanita and the bitterbrush, bordering the dried streams and ponds, this is what you will often find.

For most people, these humble plants are not as awe-inspiring as great mountains, lofty evergreens or rock formations. But, by focusing on the microcosm of their natural setting, there is a beauty in their dryness that can help us understand and appreciate the West. 
 

Mono County near Mono Lake, February 2015

 

Behind rest area, Hwy 97, northern CA

Rest area, Hwy 97, northern CA

Scenic Overlook, west of Mt. Shasta

Roadside, south of Dorris, CA

Dried creek bed off Road 782, feeds Crooked River, OR

On bank of dried creek bed, Road 782, OR

Top of cliff-Smith Rock State Park, OR

Smith Rock State Park, OR

Smith Rock State Park, OR

Smith Rock State Park, OR

Peter Skene Ogden Crooked River Overlook Park, OR

Smith Rock State Park, OR

Peter Skene Ogden Crooked River Overlook Park, OR

Smith Rock State Park, OR

Peter Skene Ogden Crooked River Overlook Park, OR

Hwy 97 Bridge & Peter Skene Ogden Crooked River Overlook Park, OR

Peter Skene Ogden Crooked River Overlook Park, OR

Crooked River canyon & Peter Skene Ogden Crooked River Overlook Park, OR

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

 Zina Abbott is the pen name used by Robyn Echols for her historical novels. Her novel, Family Secrets, was published by Fire Star Press in October 2014 and her novelette, A Christmas Promise, was published by Prairie Rose Publications in November 2014. The first two novellas in the Eastern Sierra Brides 1884 series, Big Meadows Valentine and A Resurrected Heart, are now available.

The author is a member of Women Writing the West, American Night Writers Association, and Modesto Writers Meet Up. She currently lives with her husband in California near the “Gateway to Yosemite.” She enjoys any kind of history including family history. When she is not piecing together novel plots, she pieces together quilt blocks.

Please visit and follow the Zina Abbott’s Amazon Author Page by clicking HERE.

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