It Was The Natural Outlet For All The Foot-Hill
Country Tributary To Grass Valley, Nevada City, And Smartsville.
There
the miners outfitted and there, when they had "made their pile," they
began the process - subsequently completed in Sacramento and San
Francisco - of reducing it to a negligible quantity.
That, of course, is
merely a reminiscence, but as the center of one of the most prosperous
grain and fruit-raising sections of the Sacramento Valley, Marysville is
still a place of considerable importance. The old town is very much in
evidence; so much so that, in spite of the numerous modern buildings,
the general effect produced is of age, as age is understood in
California. I doubt if San Francisco before the fire, or Sacramento
today, could show as many substantial, solid buildings dating back to
the fifties.
Chapter IX
Bayard Taylor and the California of Forty-Nine. Bret Harte and His
Literary Pioneer Contemporaries.
And here in old Marysville, the county seat of Yuba County and situated
on its extreme western boundary, I ended my tramp, having covered a
distance of approximately two hundred and fifty miles, exclusive of
retracements. The ideal time to visit the Sierra foot-hills would be in
the late Spring or early Autumn. I was compelled to grasp the
opportunity when it offered or forego the pleasure altogether. Nor is it
necessary, of course, to walk; the roads, whilst generally speaking not
classed as good going for automobiles, are at least passable. I was
surprised at the number of high grade machines in evidence, in all the
towns of importance mentioned in this narrative. There remains also the
alternative of a good saddle horse, or, better still, a light wagon with
camping outfit, thus rendering hotels unnecessary, the elimination of
which would probably pay the hire of horse and wagon.
Half a century is a long period. You could probably count on the fingers
of one hand persons now living in the Sierra foot-hills who have any
recollection of ever having seen Bret Harte. It must also be remembered
that in the fifties his reputation as an author had not been
established. Of all that group of brilliant young men who visited the
mines in early days, which included for a brief space "Orpheus C. Kerr"
and "Artemus Ward," I can well imagine that Bret Harte attracted the
least attention. It is extremely doubtful to "my mind if he ever had
much actual experience of the mining camps. To a man of his vivid
imagination, a mere suggestion afforded a plot for a story; even the
Laird's Toreadors, it will be recalled, were commercially successful
when purely imaginary; he only failed when he subsequently studied the
real thing in Spain.
Bret Harte was a man who in a primitive community might well escape
notice. In appearance, manner and training, he was the exact antithesis
of Mark Twain. He was a student before he was a writer and possessed the
student's shy reserve. I can well imagine him, a slight boyish figure,
flitting from camp to camp, wrapped in his own thoughts, keeping his own
counsel.
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