William Ely is a prominent citizen of Santa Cruz, having lived here since 1869. He is a member of the Pioneer Association of Santa Cruz, and for many years was engaged in merchandising here, being at present the president of the East Santa Cruz Railroad Company. In compliance with my request for a sketch of his life, he has furnished me with the following autobiography;
"I was born in Rome, New York, September 21, 1828. My father followed the occupations of farmer, miller and butcher, packing beef for New York City. He moved to Kendall County, Illinois, in 1848, and died in less than a month after his arrival, from erysipelas. I then returned to Buffalo, New York, with an uncle, to learn the machinist's trade, and remained there until the fall of 1849, when I came back to Joliet, Illinois, and worked in a woolen factory until the 27th of March, 1850, when, together with a young man about my own age, I bought two horses and an old wagon, and, on the 15th of April, started for California. We drove westward through a thinly populated country infested with horse thieves, and, being exposed to snow and sleet, I came to the conclusion that the emigrant's life was no picnic. When we arrived at Winter's quarters, on the Missouri River, we were flat broke and did not know what to do, as there was no labor to be had, there being at that time about one thousand people camping there, many of whom were in destitute circumstances. By accident I met an old friend and borrowed $20, and took my wagon and team and went into the country and purchased corn. The Mormons would sell to me because I was a boy and from New York, but they would not sell to Illinoisans, as they felt very bitter toward them, it being just after the Nauvoo trouble. The corn which I bought for $20 in the forenoon I sold in the afternoon to the emigrants for $30; thus applying myself, in ten days I had $75, after repaying the loan.
"Having laid in a supply of bacon, bread, powder, lead, etc, we crossed the Missouri River May 2, 1850, bound for California, or to die in trying to get there. As yet we had not encountered anything like hardships. We found all the streams swollen and overflowing, and experience great difficulty in crossing. There was no forage for our stock all the way up the Platte, as a company of Western cutthroats had burned the grass. The plains were covered with burnt buffalo bulls, and we could not get a drink of water from any of the creeks, because so many buffaloes had gone blind from burns and died in the streams. Eventually arriving at Fort Kearney, we were able to obtain bread and tobacco, by covering the articles with silver. Without meat, bacon, coffee, or sugar, we started on our journey, weary and tired, but not without hopes of reaching the gold fields, and relying upon my rifle to furnish us with game. The country was very rough, and we were compelled to keep a sharp lookout for murderous Indians and cutthroat Mormons, but it was a case of either journey on or starve.
"We finally reached Hangtown, now called Placerville, July 27, 1850. I had neither money nor respectable clothes. By accident I met a friend who had come out in 1849. He invited me to dinner, which invitation under the circumstances, I accepted. After dinner I shouldered my rifle and blankets and started on the trail for Georgetown, where I arrived the next day, and got a job tending bar for Squire Lee, at $200 per month; but shortly afterwards, hearing of the rich diggings on the north fork of the Yuba River, above Downieville, I started alone for the new diggings, but got lost in the mountains, and for forty-eight hours was without anything to eat or drink, and in a country infested with mountain lions and Indians, but I got to Downieville all right, and made some money in the mines, but lost it all before the 1st of March, 1851, by high water, and in the same month made another strike in the Bank diggings.
"In December 1851, I left Downieville. The town was short of provisions and the citizens and miners met on an open square of the town to discuss the question. Someone mounted a big pine stump and suggested that all the young men leave for the valleys, as there would then be provisions enough left to keep the old folks through the winter. After seventy-five of us started, and in climbing Goodrich Mountain encountered a furious snowstorm. We traveled in single file, with the snow up to our waists. As soon as the head man would get tired, he would stand aside and make way for the next man. Each man carried his blankets and from $1,000 to $10,000 in gold dust. As we toiled up the mountainside, unable to see on hundred feet ahead of us, I do not think any insurance company would have taken a risk on our lives. The weaker members of the party soon tired, and we fastened a rope around their waists and pulled them along. Finally two poor fellows became so exhausted that they could not travel, and we were compelled to leave them behind. We never heard of them and suppose they perished.
"On the top of the mountain was a place called "Nigger Tent" where a party had been overtaken by a snowstorm in 1849, and had spent the winter. Two white men had subsequently built a cabin here and put up a bar and done quite a business, and at this place we stopped on the eventful night of December 1, 1850. When we reached the mountaintop our clothes were frozen stiff, and we were hungry and almost exhausted. A member of the party who had crossed the mountain before guided us to the place where the cabin ought to be. It was about half past eleven o'clock P.M. There was no cabin there, but we soon discovered a tunnel which led us into the cabin. We were soon having a feast of black coffee, pancakes, and bacon, saddened only by the reflection that we had left two of our party to die on the mountainside, when crash fell a big pine tree across the cabin. Strange as it may seem, no one was hurt. When we discovered the fact that all were saved, the sound and noise of the blizzard was "not in it" with the yells of joy we let out. We reached Marysville without further adventure.
"I went to Green Valley, Sonoma County, and went to raising potatoes, and in September, 1852, found myself without money, and with several thousand sacks of potatoes that were worth nothing. I lived in hopes that they would be worth something in the spring, but the best I could do was to throw the potatoes away, and sell the sacks for ten cents apiece, "heave a sigh and shed a tear," not for my money, but for "the girl I left behind me," in Independence, Ohio.
"I thought of going back to the mines, but about this time I met Captain John R. Cooper, who resided in Monterey, who owned the land I was farming. I accepted a position from him to go into the cattle business on shares. In this business I prospered, and in 1856, I went to New York by vessel and from thence to Cleveland, Ohio and found my girl, Miss Catherine Usher, still true to her roving lover. We were married February 6, 1857, and she is still with me, and mother of our children, of whom we have had eight, seven of whom are living: Frank W., a prosperous merchant of Santa Cruz, Mrs. Viola A. Thyare, Mrs. Mendora Wright, Mrs. Lulu Lloyd, Nellie and George H. Ely, and Mrs. Pearl Dias.
I returned to California and continued in the cattle business until 1869, when I came to Santa Cruz, and have resided here ever since, being engaged in merchandising and railroading. I feel my sixty-three years of age, but am still strong and vigorous enough to do a hard day's work yet.
History of Santa Cruz County, California
by E.S. Harrison
Published by Pacific Press Publishing Company
San Francisco, Cal., 1892
Transcribed by Yvonne Valentine
Santa Cruz County Biographies ~ Archive Biography Index ~ Archive Index
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