The Pinos Altos Story

80’s And 90’s

The next two decades were of increasing prosperity, thanks to the efforts of Trolius Stephens and Nathaniel Bell. Not only was there greater mining activity but new businesses were opened. The Ancheta Trading Post had been bought by Bell and Stephens and enlarged into a general merchandise store which handled everything from hair pins to machinery. They subsidized a drug store, a barber shop, and a meat market which had its own slaughter house. Other merchants opened clothing stores—general and “for men only.” The town boasted a band, a baseball team, and a Turkish Bath. Two new hotels were built—The Palmer House and the Pacific. New and larger homes were erected, more orchards planted. Trees, many of them maples, were planted along the streets. Because animals roamed into town, each tree was enclosed to the height of five or six feet. More saloons and gambling halls were added until they numbered fourteen. There was no “red light” district but “fancy ladies” came up from Silver City every pay day and two houses were their headquarters. Whenever a Mexican family could serve enchiladas a lantern would be hung outside. Mrs. Handy’s lantern would be out every Saturday night. Her enchiladas were considered the best made any where and her Arbuckle coffee was ambrosia.

So great was the influx of new arrivals during the ’80’s and ’90’s that two stages—and sometimes more, made regular round trips to Silver City to carry passengers and mail.

Chinese had been among the early settlers and they lived in dug-outs along the gulches. They foresaw that cooking for the miners and washing for them would be more profitable than placering so they discarded their gold pans for dish pans and wash tubs. Many stayed for years operating eating houses, laundries, and hop joints. See Hop was a general favorite. He loved children and was always ready to “baby-sit”. No baby was born but See Hop went to see it, bearing a gift. On the Chinese New Year he would distribute Chinese candy and lichee nuts to the children and Chinese lily bulbs to the mothers. He had a wife and children in China and his ambition was to make a fortune and return to them. He lost his first savings in the failure of a Silver City bank so would not trust his money to a bank again. He hid it in his house and was robbed. Later, in Santa Rita, trusting neither house nor bank, he buried it and a flood washed it away. Again he started saving and when he had enough for passage he went home to China—an old man. While he was in Pinos Altos he decided that he would like to give up his laundry and go into the chicken business. W. E. Watson bought the chickens to start him. All went well for a time then the chickens began to die. Nothing he did changed the situation. Papers with Chinese characters on them were posted on all gates and doors. The chickens continued to die. A Mexican came by and asked about the papers. See Hop told him they were notices to the evil spirits. The visitor laughed and told him to put crosses on every high point where they could be seen because the devils here could not read Chinese. Still, no desired results. In despair See Hop went to the one who had bought the stock in the first place and said, “You write letters to the bad spirits in English. Say they belong to Billy Watson. They do not know Chinese and they do not understand crosses. You tell them.”

With so many animals needed for power and transportation corrals were built at the edge of town. “Bob” wire had not come into use but there was plenty of bailing wire—“one of the two good things,” the Indians said, “that the White Man brought into the country.” Juniper posts in an upright position were set into the ground as closely as possible and wired together at the top. There were miles of such fences to enclose the oxen and burro trains. There were livery stables, carpentry shops, planing mills, dance halls, and from the very beginning, the necessary blacksmith shops. “The Pinos Altos Miner” made its appearance on July 11, 1888, with Mr. John C. Bayne (grandfather of Clarence Bayne of Silver City) as editor. Mr. Bayne had been attracted by reports of the mining activity and came expecting to mine, but having been a newspaper man he could not resist the appeal for a local paper. It was published for several years. Later “The Pinos Altos,” a strictly local and mining journal, of which Galloway and Warner were the proprietors, was published.

Mr. George D. Lincoln left Silver City to open a law office in Pinos Altos. One of his clients was a man known only as “Adobe Bill”. He had a Mexican wife and several children. Being unable to pay the lawyer’s fee in gold or cash, he gave his two sons to Mr. Lincoln who refused to accept them as payment. One day the sheriff came looking for “Dobe Bill”, and everyone thought the law had caught up with the man, but it turned out that he was William Ferris and he had inherited a large sum of money. “Dobe” sweated years of accumulated grime out in a Turkish bath, had a shave and a hair-cut, bought himself the loudest suit to be obtained, deserted his family, and departed.

Many nationalities were represented, and until the ’80’s they mingled freely. When Bell and Stephens advertised for “hard rock” miners, a Cornishman told Mr. Stephens he knew a good man, his “Cousin Jack in the Old Country”. “Send for him,” Mr. Stephens said. Cousin Jack came and he had a “Cousin Jack.” Soon the “Cousin Jacks” were flocking in. It was natural that they should get together. They built their homes up the hill to the southwest of town—seven or eight houses clustered about a large rooming and boarding house run by Mr. and Mrs. Noah Climo. People down town referred to it as “Cornishtown”. The Italians formed their group and selected a site to the west. It was known as Italian Town. The newer Mexicans were allowed to build only on the outskirts. They choose the Continental Divide and the ridge to the east of town where they had hand-ball courts and cock pits. No longer did the groups meet socially. The Mexicans had their bailes and fiestas, from which, unless he was there by special invitation, a “white man” was thrown out. The American group included all not Spanish-speaking. They had their balls in the new hotels, whist and sewing clubs, dramatic society, and lodges. Saturday night was “sluff” night at many saloons, and men who did not frequent saloons at other times enjoyed their weekly games. There were horseback rides, taffy pulls, tea parties, and picnics. Ladies of long residence, dressed in their best, raised their parasols and called on newcomers. Life, if not exciting by today’s standards, was very pleasant. On summer evenings parents sat rocking contentedly on the front porches with their daughters wistfully sitting on the steps listening to calls of “Lie low” and “Run, Sheep, Run” from the boys in all parts of town. In the winter they sat around sheet iron stoves, mending or reading, while the children did their home work around the dining room table.

Nathaniel Bell went to Wisconsin and married the girl he had left there years before. Red-haired Sue Bell was a welcomed addition to the town. She was friendly and had a knack of starting things and seeing them through—the first community Christmas tree, for example. Mr. Bell had lost a considerable sum in the first bank failure, and although he was distrustful, he deposited money in the second bank. When it, too, closed its doors, Mrs. Bell said, “The money is yours. Go and get it for I’m sure the bank president has it in his home. I’ll be standing by.” Bell went and was told by the wife that the president was ill and could see no one. Bell said, “I have come to see him and to get my money. Either he comes out or I go in.” The bank president came out, took one look at big Nat Bell, went to a wall safe and took out $10,000. Bell and Stephens were the only operators that met their payroll that month. But he was through with local banks. Thereafter he buried his money, keeping a record on the jamb of a pantry door. One day the storekeeper saw a Mexican, who was digging around the fruit trees in the yard, lean over and pick up something. He looked around, dropped his hoe and took off. The storekeeper leaped over the counter, called to a clerk that he was leaving, and sprinted after the man, overtaking him in an alley. The Mexican handed over his find—a large tomato can that had been opened with a butcher knife and the points pushed together again. It was filled with coins and a sticky mass, indicating that it had been in the ground through many storms. With a warm iron and blotting paper, Mrs. Bell was able to distinguish green backs. She sent the mass to Washington and received more than two thousand dollars in new bills. Mr. Bell had made no record but he was able to recall the circumstances. The day he collected the money no one was home, he could find no other can, so he buried it hurriedly, thinking he would find a better container, then had been called away. The incident made him think that perhaps he had failed to record other deposits so Mrs. Bell superintended the digging up of the entire place. Two more cans were found but of the baking powder variety. That started everyone digging for buried treasure and some was found.

George H. Utter, before he engaged in mining, sold Singer Sewing Machines. He drove about the county in a buckboard with a machine for demonstrations tied behind the seat. He came to a Mexican ranch on Whiskey Creek just east of Rocky Point the day after the rancher had found a can of gold. He had invited several of his friends to help him celebrate and they were making merry when Mr. Utter drove up. The women “Ohed and Ahed” over the latest model. The man showed the gold to Utter and ordered a new machine for every woman present.

Edward Dehaney was a very likeable young man but described as “not worth $1.25 from the neck down.” His worth was from the neck up as he proved later in his career. While he was in Pinos Altos he was practically penniless but full of schemes. The Bells took him into their home and boarded him for several months with the understanding that he pay when he could. Mrs. Bell knew he was receiving money but he never paid a cent and left town without doing so. Mrs. Bell collected years later. When she visited him in his pretentious offices in California and presented her bill he said, “But, Mrs. Bell, this is outlawed—and you, being a lady, would not presume to collect an outlawed bill.” Mrs. Bell replied, “I know the bill is outlawed, but you, being a gentleman, will surely honor it.” His check went to a home for old miners.

When the first son was born to the Bells he was given the family name of “Golden” and his father had a bell made of local gold which Golden wore on a chain around his neck until he reached school age. A gold brick from a run of the mill was kept on a counter in the store. The early miners used gold as a medium of exchange as long as they lived. It was usually carried in a small Bromo Seltzer bottle in a pocket and a man could estimate accurately the amount for his daily needs. As he grew older, if he needed 60 cents for coffee and tobacco he washed out that amount, if he needed $4.50 for overalls, blouse, flour, sugar and meat, he panned that amount, then sat in the sun. Goods were no longer paid for by the “finger” for the gold was carefully weighed. Should the amount of gold be a little more than the bill, candy would be taken home for the children. If it fell short a tab was made and dropped into the till. Rarely was it necessary, and always when the man came back to make another purchase, he would have extra gold so the tab against him could be destroyed. In those days there were no pennies and very few dollar bills in circulation. All costs were figured in multiples of five and reduction in price was given if items were bought in quantity. Men who worked for wages settled accounts on pay day and went home with a generous sack of candy. Store hours were from seven to seven. Usually there was a dull period in the afternoons which the clerks used to put up beans, rice, and sugar, etc., in 25c and 50c amounts, folding and tying the sacks for the evening rush. Saturday was clean-up night when the delivery boys, clerks, and handy men would take off their shoes and socks, roll up their pantaloons, and with brooms, mops and buckets of hot soapy water, scrub counters and floors. The Bell and Stephens store was the largest but it was a company store. Smaller companies and independent operators wanted other stores. Neffe had a store at the corner of Main Street and Gold Avenue—later the F. J. Davidson store. Men who worked at the Mountain Key and at the Golden Giant traded there, and later the Mammoth people. The building which housed George Norton’s store is still standing, south of the Buckhorn Bar. Both buildings are relics of the ’70’s.

Many men like Jim Hill and his brother had taken up homesteads on the Upper Gila and along the Sapello. They traded in Pinos Altos and drove their cattle through town to the stock yards below Silver City. Merchants waited six months or a year for those accounts to be settled but they always were. One rancher, in for supplies, would take out coffee, tobacco and mail to all along his way. Newspapers, no matter how old, and magazines were always welcomed in the remote areas. Each merchant had a collection box for them. The corrals at the stores were open to the ranchers and often they were filled with pack animals. Trappers and government hunters also camped in the corrals. Ben Lilly and Nat Straw were regular visitors and once in a great while “Bear” Moore would come to town. Moore had lived in a cabin at the mouth of Big Cherry before he moved to the West Fork. He had been badly mauled and disfigured as a result of an encounter with a bear and had withdrawn from contacts with his fellow men as much as possible. As he told his story, he had killed a half-grown cub in a rocky canyon when the mother appeared around a bend. Moore’s gum jammed and the bear was upon him. He fought with sticks, stones and his bare hands, unable to escape. When he regained consciousness the dead bear was lying beside him and Moore was torn to pieces, a jaw bone and part of his breast were gone. Looking down at the gaping hole he said that he could see his heart beating. That he was able to crawl to camp and receive help was miraculous. His last years were spent prospecting in the headwaters of the Gila country and it was rumored that he made a rich find. When his last camp was found Moore had been dead for some time. A handful of beans, the remains of a shank of venison, a canvas bag containing worthless rock was all that was found. The old hermit had died of starvation and exposure.

The Hearst Company renovated the store with paper and paint, arranging the stock into departments, as drug, dry-goods, hardware, etc. A large sheet iron warehouse was added for rails and other mining equipment. Also erected was an office building, a mess for office and store employees, and new homes for their foremen. The Bell and Stephens duplex was remodeled for the Thayer and Risque families. Altogether the old town had a new look. Stephens, before he would sign the sale papers, had insisted that “his people” be given consideration and cared for, and the Hearst Company carried out this policy. “Chan” Derbyshire was promoted to be store manager and promising local boys were changed from common laborers to store clerks—Tom Hall and Fernando Chavez were two of them. Will Rivers and George Turner came from Silver City to take positions. Among the men who were brought in were Harry Thorne, assayer and Mike Riney, master mechanic.

When Bell and Stephens had announced the sale of their property to the Hearst Interests there was great excitement. The Hearsts represented money and money could do great things, but at the same time, they were sorry to see the Bell and Stephens families depart. The property had been turned over when Mr. Daniel B. Jillette, Jr., representing the Hearst Interests, presented Mrs. Bell a farewell gift, the last ingot from the Bell and Stephens Mill. This gold has been used only for wedding rings and from the amount remaining today it will furnish wedding rings to the Bell family for many, many generations.

The 1900’s

There must have been doctors here before the ’80’s but they left no records. Dr. Lewis B. Robinson came to take charge of the drug store and to care for the ill and injured. He was a character, crude in his methods but a family physician of the old school, ready day or night to go where ever needed. He would go to a home just to see the folks, have the children stick out their tongues, sometimes leaving pills or asking them to go by the drug store for a powder. There was a “pest house” where victims of small pox were quarantined. Once the case was confined there was improving and had gone outside to sit in the sun, when he went inside he found that his bedding had disappeared. When “Doc” was informed he said, “Well never mind, we’ll know who took the blankets in a few days.” Sure enough, Joe Acosta came down with the small pox and was marked for the rest of his life. Other doctors came and went and for a time there was a dentist with his own office and equipment, but usually the inhabitants depended on the semi-annual visits of Dr. W. H. White of Silver City to have dental care.

The climate attracted health seekers, particularly those with tuberculosis. Most followed a rest cure, others tried to work, some went out to ranches. It is recalled that one young man would go to a slaughter house whenever a beef was to be killed and drink a cup of warm blood. Some went home to die, others were shipped East, but there were others, like Russell Davidson who came from Nova Scotia and was taken from the train on a stretcher, who lived a long and active life. William Sweikert was a health seeker (1908-1911) who was interested in the native population. He was Justice of Peace and as such, came in contact with some quite often. He was shocked to learn that many families had not been married so he rounded up the men and women involved and persuaded them to get licenses and he would perform the civil ceremonies. When that had been done, the next step was to have the marriages blessed by a priest. All friends and relatives gathered, children dressed in new white dresses or blue jeans formed a procession to the church. “Un Gran’ Baile” was held and the bridegrooms broke “carones” over the heads of the gray-haired brides with as much ardor as much younger gay caballeros would have done.

Soldiers from Fort Bayard had always ridden across the hills, at first on duty, then to call on the pretty girls. Many passes were issued because of a party or a dance. However, the girls were choosy and not all soldiers were welcomed. They were admitted to other places, however, and their trails could be followed by the “dead soldiers” (large brown beer bottles) lying along the way. There were plenty of attractive young men in town and the homes where there were girls were hospitable. A favorite song among the boys was:

They had the Lee home in mind where Mrs. Lee was even more popular than her four daughters.

Henry Young and his brother, John, about 1900, sold their ranch above Fort Bayard and came to Pinos Altos where they built a livery stable. Henry is remembered for his tall tales of his own achievements. However, he was a hard worker and the results of his efforts often justified his stories. He had the fastest horses, the best equipment, he raised the best vegetables and fruits. He introduced the Stark Delicious apple to this section and won several awards for them at state fairs.

Each mining company had its own engineers, foremen, and laborers and their families joined the men. The community regretted seeing friends depart and at the same time they welcomed the newcomers. Often the change brought an outstanding person—such was Mrs. Grace Griswold Adams. She was a teacher in the Milwaukee Schools who had bought stock in the Savannah Mining Company. For a summer vacation she decided to visit Silver City where she could see something of what her mining stock represented. She liked the country and the people so asked for and was granted a year’s leave of absence. She took a position in the smelter office but was persuaded by Mr. F. J. Davidson to leave it and teach in Pinos Altos. She married George H. Bisby of a pioneer Lone Mountain family and lived here, teaching part of the time, for 36 years. She was an interesting conversationalist, being a keen observer and well-read. Her hobbies were music and painting, she was always ready for a bridge or a croquet game, and her home was always “Open House.” A Christmas party at the Bisby’s was something to remember.

When the town was particularly prosperous a Fourth of July celebration would be held. It began with the band parading to the speaker’s stand, the singing of the National Anthem, a prayer, and a flowery, stirring oration. Then came some events for the young fry—climbing a greased pole or catching a greased pig, foot races and a burro race. The Ladies Aid and the Catholic Women helped feed the crowd at noon. Restaurants served special menus and many ate picnic lunches under the trees. In the afternoon there was a baseball game on the regular ball grounds by the “Gopher” where there was a grand stand for spectators. The drilling contest would take place nearby on the rocks east of the Gopher dump. Fireworks preceded the dances in the evening, rounding out a grand and glorious day. Often bets were taken on the hour and minute that rain would fall. Summer rains generally started on the Fourth. The procedure was patterned after the wagers made in Alaska as to the time the ice would go out. The one giving the nearest time won the jackpot. The burro race was unique. Each youngster entered his own burro but rode one belonging to someone else. The slowest burro won, so every rider forced his mount to the greatest speed possible.

After World War I many discharged men settled here, partly for reasons of health and partly because they liked the place. Harry Hickel, Bob Riddle and Jim Bonnelly were among them. They loved the out-of-doors and shared in community affairs so they were interesting families to have as neighbors.