[begin page 232]
CHAPTER 36
I had already learned how hard and long and dismal a task it is to burrow
down into the bowels of the earth and get out the coveted ore; and now I learned that
the burrowing was only half the work; and that to
get the silver out of the ore was the dreary and laborious other half of it. We had
to turn out at six in the morning and keep at it
till dark. This mill was a six-stamp affairⒺ, driven
by steam. Six tall, upright rods of iron, as large as a man’s ankle, and heavily shod
with a mass of iron and steel at their lower ends, were framed together like a gate,
and these rose and fell, one after the
other, in a ponderous dance, in an iron box called a “battery.” Each of these rods
or stamps weighed six hundred pounds.
One of us stood by the battery all day long, breaking up masses of silver-bearing
rock with a sledge and shoveling it into the battery.
The ceaseless dance
[begin page 233] of the stamps pulverized the rock to powder, and a stream of water that trickled into
the battery turned it to a creamy paste. The minutest particles were driven through
a fine wire screen which fitted close around the
battery, and were washed into great tubs warmed by super-heated steam—amalgamating
pans, they are called. The mass of pulp in
the pans was kept constantly stirred up by revolving “mullers.” A quantity of quicksilver
was kept always in the battery,
and this seized some of the liberated gold and silver particles and held on to them;
quicksilver
Ⓐ was shaken in a fine shower into the pans, also, about every half hour, through a
buckskin sack. Quantities of coarse salt and
sulphate of copper were added, from time to
time,
Ⓐ to assist the amalgamation by destroying base metals which coated the gold and silver
and would not let it unite with the
quicksilver. All these tiresome things we had to attend to constantly. Streams of
dirty water flowed always from the pans and were
carried off in broad wooden troughs to the ravine. One would not suppose that atoms
of gold and silver would float on top of six inches
of water, but they did; and in order to catch them, coarse blankets were laid in the
troughs, and little obstructing
“riffles” charged with
quicksilver
Ⓐ were placed here and there across the troughs also. These riffles had to be cleaned
and the blankets washed out every evening,
to get their precious accumulations—and after all this eternity of trouble
one-third
Ⓐ of the silver and gold in a ton of rock would find its way to the end of the troughs
in the ravine at last and have to be worked
over again some day. There is nothing so aggravating as silver milling. There never
was any idle time in that mill. There was always
something to do. It is a pity that Adam could not have gone straight out of Eden into
a quartz mill, in order to understand the full
force of his doom to
“earn his bread by the sweat of his brow.”
Ⓔ Every now and then, during the day, we had to scoop some pulp out of the pans, and
tediously
“wash” it in a horn spoon—wash it little by little over the edge till at last nothing
was left but some little
dull globules of quicksilver in the bottom. If they were soft and yielding, the pan
needed some salt or some sulphate of copper or some
other chemical rubbish to assist digestion; if they were crisp to the touch and would
retain a dint, they were freighted with all the
silver and gold they could seize and hold, and consequently the pans needed a
[begin page 234] fresh charge of quicksilver.
When there was nothing else to do, one could always “screen tailings.” That is to
say, he could shovel up the dried sand
that had washed down to the ravine through the troughs and dash it against an upright
wire screen to free it from pebbles and prepare
it for working over. The process of amalgamation differed in the various mills, and
this included changes in style of pans and other
machinery, and a great diversity of opinion existed as to the best in use, but none
of the methods employed, involved the principle of
milling ore without “screening the tailings.” Of all recreations in the world,
screening tailings on a hot day, with a long-handled shovel, is the most undesirable
Ⓔ.
At the end of the week the machinery was stopped and we “cleaned up.” That is to
say, we got the pulp out of the pans and batteries, and washed the mud patiently away
till nothing was left but the long accumulating
mass of quicksilver, with its imprisoned treasures. This we made into heavy, compact
snow-balls, and piled them up in a bright,
luxurious heap for inspection. Making these snow-balls cost me a fine gold ring—that
and ignorance together; for the quicksilver
invaded the ring with the same facility with which water saturates a sponge—separated
its particles and the ring crumbled to
pieces.
[begin page 235] We put our pile of quicksilver balls into an iron retort that had a
pipe leading from it to a pail of water, and then applied a roasting heat. The quicksilver
turned to vapor, escaped through the pipe
into the pail, and the water turned it into good wholesome quicksilver again. Quicksilver
is very costly, and they never waste it. On
opening the retort, there was our week’s work—a lump of pure white, frosty looking
silver, twice as large as a
man’s head. Perhaps a fifth of the mass was gold, but the color of it did not show—would
not have shown if two-thirdsⒶ of it had been gold. We melted it up and made a solid brick of it by pouring it into
an iron brick-mould.
By such a tedious and laborious process were silver bricks obtained. This mill was
but one of
many others in operation at the time. The first one in Nevada was built at Egan CañonⒶ and was a small insignificant affairⒺ and compared most unfavorably with some of
the immense establishments afterwardⒶ located at Virginia City and elsewhere.
From our bricks a little corner was chipped off for the
“fire- [begin page 236] assay”—a method used to determine the proportions of gold, silver and base
metals in the mass. This is an interesting process. The chip is hammered out as thin
as paper and weighed on scales so fine and
sensitive that if you weigh a two-inch scrap of paper on them and then write your
name on the paper with a coarseⒶ, soft pencil and weigh it again, the scales will take marked notice of the addition.
Then a little lead (also weighed) is rolled
up with the flake of silver and the two are melted at a great heat in a small vessel
called a cupel, made by compressing bone ashes
into a cup-shape in a steel mouldⒶ. The base metals oxydizeⒶ and are absorbed
with the lead into the pores of the cupel. A button or globule of perfectly pure gold
and silver is left behind, and by weighing it and
noting the loss, the assayer knows the proportion of base metal the brick contains.
He has to separate the gold from the silver now.
The button is hammered out flat and thin, put in the furnace and kept some time at
a red heat; after cooling it off it is rolled up
like a quill and heated in a glass vessel containing nitric acid; the acid dissolves
the silver and leaves the gold pure and ready to
be weighed on its own merits. Then salt water is poured into the vessel containing
the dissolved silver and the silver returns to
palpable form again and sinks to the bottom. Nothing now remains but to weigh itⒺ; then
the proportions of the several metals contained in the brick are known, and the assayer
stamps the value of the brick upon its
surface.
The sagacious reader will know now, without being told, that the speculative miner,
in getting a
“fire-assay” made of a piece of rock from his mine (to help him sell the same), was
not in the habit of picking out the
least valuable fragment of rock on his dump-pile, but quite the contrary. I have seen
men hunt over a pile of nearly worthless quartz
for an hour, and at last find a little piece as large as a filbert, which was rich
in gold and silver—and this was reserved for
a fire-assay! Of course the fire-assay would demonstrate that a ton of such rock would
yield hundreds of dollars—and on such
assays many an utterly worthless mine was sold.
Assaying was a good business, and so some men engaged in it, occasionally, who were
not strictly
scientific and capable. One assayer got such rich results out of all specimens brought to him that
in time he acquired almost a monopoly of the business. But like all men who achieve
success, he became an object of envy and suspicion.
[begin page 237] The other assayers entered into a conspiracy against him, and let some prominent citizens
into the secret
in order to show that they meant fairly. Then they broke a little fragment off a carpenter’s
grindstone and got a stranger to
take it to the popular scientist and get it assayed. In the
course of an hour the result came—whereby it appeared that a ton of that rock would
yield $1,284.40 in silver and
$366.36 in gold!
Due publication of the whole matter was made in the paper, and the popular assayer
left town
“between two days.”Ⓔ
I will remark, in passing, that I only remained in the
milling business one week. I told my employer I could not stay longer without an advance
in my wages; that I liked quartz milling,
indeed was infatuated with it; that I had never before grown so tenderly attached
to an occupation in so short a time; that nothing, it
seemed to me, gave such scope to intellectual activity as feeding a battery and screening
tailings, and nothing so stimulated the moral
attributes as retorting bullion and washing blankets—still, I felt constrained to
ask an increase of salary.
He said he was paying me ten dollars a week, and thought it a good round sum. How
much did I
want?
I said about four hundred thousand dollars a month, and board, was about all I could
reasonably
ask, considering the hard times.
I was ordered off the premisesⒺ! And yet, when I
look back to those days and call to mind the exceeding hardness of the labor I performed
in that mill, I only regret that I did not ask
him seven hundred thousand.
Shortly after this I began to grow crazy, along with the rest of the population, about
the
mysterious and wonderful “cement mine,” and to make preparations to take advantage
of any opportunity that might offer to
go and help hunt for it.
Explanatory Notes CHAPTER 36
Ⓔ This mill was a six-stamp
affair] Clayton’s mill, which was in operation by February 1862, actually had twelve
stamps for crushing ore. The
“Clayton & Veatch process” employed there, which Mark Twain
[begin page 635] describes in this
chapter, was a variation of John A. Veatch’s steam-tub method of amalgamation (
Kelly
1862, 244;
L1
, 188 n. 9, 194 n. 3).
Ⓔ
illus] These engravings were reused from two earlier works—Browne’s “Reese River Country”
and
Richardson’s
Beyond the Mississippi—and do not illustrate the process in use at Clayton’s
mill.
The first one, which accompanied Browne’s description of mining in the Reese River
area of central Nevada, apparently depicts the “Freiberg or barrel process, which
is conducted by means of revolving
barrels” (
J. Ross Browne 1866, 42–43). The second one depicts the Washoe
wet process, employing shallow pans, which became the most widely used in the Nevada
silver mills (
Richardson, 502;
Küstel, 117–18, 122–24;
Hodges, 2–3, 8–9).
Ⓔ “earn his bread by the
sweat of his brow.”] Compare Genesis 3:19: “In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat
bread.”
Ⓔ screening tailings
. . . with a long-handled shovel, is the most undesirable] In 1906 Clemens recalled:
“I hate a
long-handled shovel.
I never could learn to swing it properly. As often as any other way the sand
didn’t reach the screen at all, but went over my head and down my back, inside of
my clothes. It was the most detestable work I
have ever engaged in” (
AD, 27 Mar 1906,
CU-MARK, in
MTA
, 2:258).
Ⓔ The first one in
Nevada was built at Egan Cañon and was a small insignificant affair] Most sources
agree that the first mill in Nevada
was Almarin B. Paul’s Pioneer Mill, which began crushing ore on 11 August 1860 in
Gold Canyon.
(Angel’s
History of Nevada awards the distinction to Logan and Holmes’s mill,
also in Gold Canyon, but this rudimentary operation—established in October 1859—“could
only be called a mill by
courtesy,” according to
Lord [86 n. 2].) The mistaken reference here
to Egan Canyon may derive from Mark Twain’s misreading of a remark in Richardson’s
Beyond the
Mississippi. Describing his travels from Utah to Nevada in 1865, Richardson noted the first evidence
of mining activity he had
seen on his route: “Two hundred and fifty miles west of Salt Lake we encountered the
first quartz mining of Nevada, at Egan
Canyon, a picturesque valley. Only one mill was running. It had but five stamps” (369).
Nearby appeared an
illustration—later appropriated for use in
Roughing It (reproduced on page 235)—deceptively
captioned “Egan Canyon and First Quartz Mill” (368). Clemens passed through Egan Canyon,
the site of a pony-express and
overland-mail station, on his trip to Carson City. A small mill was built there in
1864 (
Hodges, 2–3;
Lord, 84–86;
Angel, 60;
Paher, 242).
Ⓔ the
“fire-assay” . . . Nothing now remains but to weigh it] Clemens had the opportunity
to observe this
fire-assay process in February 1863 in the assaying rooms of Theall and Company in
Virginia City; he described the technique at
humorous length in his
[begin page 636] sketch “Silver Bars—How Assayed,” probably published between
17 and 22 February in the
Territorial Enterprise (
SLC
1863b).
Ⓔ One assayer got
such rich results . . . left town “between two days.”] This anecdote was apparently
a folktale.
William F. Rae recounted it, for example, in his
Westward by Rail (215), and it has been included in an
anthology of Mormon folklore (
Fife and Fife, 286;
L. L. Lee, 47).
Ⓔ I only remained in the
milling business one week . . . I was ordered off the premises] Clemens explained
to his brother Orion in a
letter of 9 July:
“I caught a violent cold at Clayton’s, which lasted two weeks, and
I came near getting salivated, working in the quicksilver and chemicals. I hardly
think I shall try the experiment again. It is a
confining business, and
I will not be confined, for love nor money” (
L1
, 225). In 1906 he described his departure: “On my side, I could not endure the heavy
labor; and on
the company’s side, they did not feel justified in paying me to shovel sand down my
back; so I was discharged just at the
moment that I was going to resign” (
AD, 27 Mar 1906,
CU-MARK, in
MTA
, 2:258).