It is a wonder the White Pine District was not discovered much earlier as it was located on the horse thief trail to Pahranagat and the south. A. J. Leathers, Thomas Murphy, and other prospectors from Austin, Nevada discovered ore on the western slope of the White Pine Mountains in 1865. The Monte Cristo Mining Company was formed and a mill was built and put in operation in 1867.
The most oft told tale is that the odor of a simmering pot of beans triggered the “Rush to White Pine.” Napias1 Jim, an Indian, finding no one home at the cabin shared by A. J. Leathers, Thomas Murphy, and Eddie Marchand; Jim proceeded to eat the beans. History does not record what Leathers and his partners said when they returned home and the beans were gone. It is easy to imagine that it was not printable! Napias Jim had a conscience and he gave Leathers a piece of rich silver chloride ore to pay for the beans and was persuaded to show where he found it. Guided by this Indian, Leathers, Murphy, and Marchland located the rich Hidden Treasure Mine on Treasure Hill on January 4, 1868.
Men attracted to Treasure Hill had to find a place to live and Hamilton was formed because of the need for a town with a desirable location after discovery of rich silver lodes. Early arrivals found shelter in natural caves at the foot of the northern side of the hill 8,000 feet above sea level. By May 1868, a settlement known as Cave City had been laid out. The next month a saloon, built to accommodate the thirty residents, became the first frame structure. Cave City’s name was renamed for promoter W. H. Hamilton.
By mid-winter the population had grown to near six hundred. Many thoughtless prospectors, caught by the lure of riches, ignored the warning not to come to White Pine until the snow disappeared. They had been warned that the alkaline flats would be covered with snow and the thermometer would sink to 18o below zero on top of Treasure Hill. But they continued to rush to White Pine, only to find mining was impossible because of the extreme cold.
A post office was established August 10, 1868. The noisiest, fastest and most intense mining rush since the gold rush in California began with a sensational stampede to White Pine. All types of people came to White Pine County for all directions. They came from Salt Lake City by Overland Stage, and from San Francisco by saddle horse and mule, horse and buggy, and by large freight wagons. Prospectors and miners quickly became teamsters in order to get a ride over the mountains and deserts. Over thirteen thousand mining claims were recorded in the district in two years time; 195 White Pine mining companies were incorporated. The bitter discomfort of the exposed town was compensated by the hot excitement of the day. The climate is best described as ten months winter and two months damn cold weather!
Stirred by a promise of quick wealth, several thousand prospectors flocked to Treasure hill through 1868. Swaps, sales and purchases went on day and night. This was thought to be another Comstock that would last forever. A story is told about a Dutchman that was lured to the White Pine District by the stories of fabulous wealth. He found no mines and lost all his funds at the Hamilton gaming tables. He then set out on foot on the stage road to Elko. Long lines of freighters and stages passed him. At last one driver stopped. “Got an empty space here, stranger. Want a ride?” The Dutchman threw his hat to the earth, stamped on it, and replied “By golly, no! I valk! I learn this damn old Dutchman somet’ing! I learn him he should go not to Hamilton!”
Several towns were platted, lot prices rose into the thousands and toll roads extended in every direction. The Bank of California and Wells Fargo established branches in Hamilton. Men of dozens of nationalities were represented in this noisy mixture of miners, merchants, brokers, speculators, drifters, thieves and desperadoes. Several of the inhabitants of Hamilton were able to think beyond the day when its inhabitants would have only chloride on the brain. A school district was organized with and elected board of trustees and a school site before a child lived in the camp.
White Pine County was organized in March 1869 and Hamilton selected as the first county seat. An imposing 2-story brick courthouse with jail was built. The court soon proved to be very busy, as litigation began when claims lapped and overlapped.
Other imposing structures in the town included St. Luke’s Episcopal Church, and the J.P. Withington hotel. The church was regarded as one of the handsomest churches in the state. Withington Hotel was recognized as the most elaborate building of its kind in Nevada. Historians differ on the origin of the stone used in the Withington Hotel. One-version states the hotel was constructed of dressed stone hauled from England around the horn as ballast and freighted from San Francisco at considerable cost. Another argues that stone would not be shipped in when the necessities of life were at a premium and the stone could be quarried nearby. The trim around the windows shown in old pictures of the Withington appears to be a different type of stone than the rest, so both versions may be valid. All agree that it was the most expensive structure built in Nevada up to that time.
There were many establishments selling liquor - most with billiard tables and cigar counters. Other establishments included several general merchandise stores, lawyers, fire companies, doctors, churches, fraternal orders, Miners’ Union, banks, jewelers, theaters, skating rinks, dance halls, auction houses, soda factory, gunsmiths, newspapers, etc. Anticipating the population would reach 50,000, a San Francisco firm organized a Water Company and steam pumping works. The problem of food, shelter, and water was difficult to solve with water selling at 25 cents a bucket. If miners were sent to dig an artesian well and struck an ore body they would throw up the job of digging for water.
Hamilton boasted two newspapers for a short period. The promising bonanzas of the White Pine Distict in the winter of 1868 were very attractive to two resourceful journalists, James J. Ayers and Charles A. V. Putnam. Ayers and Putnam purchased the entire plant of the Virginia City Safeguard and moved it to Hamilton at great expense in February of 1869. They established one of the most complete printing offices ever set up outside of a large city and on March 27, 1869 the first number of the daily Inland Empire was issued. The paper was large and prospered with the White Pine District.
The following article was transcribed from the Daily Inland Empire, December 18, 1869. This articles gives a eloquent picture of the changes one year wrote in Hamilton:
TO-DAY ONE YEAR. -- One year ago to-day the heaviest fall of snow of the season occurred. The storm commenced on the 18th and continued for two weeks, but nearly all the snow that fell during the whole time, fell the first day of the storm. Thus far this season has been much more propitious than last year. Now we are prepared for rough weather. All our mills are well supplied with ore, wood and water. Our people are well housed and are bountifully supplied with provisions at most reasonable prices. The majority of those now in the district have some employment; then, prospecting was the only business. Yesterday one year ago we were on Treasure Hill, and as we returned to Hamilton our attention was attracted to the immense crowds of people who then thronged the little canvas village. The town contained some fifty or sixty buildings, and the majority of those were canvas. There was but Hamilton street, and but partially built up one street, and it extended from Hunter to [words missing] Hundreds of men were sleeping among the sagebrush and rocks for want of a better place. A man who had a ditch with pine boughs over it, was considered a lucky fellow. Yesterday we were on Treasure Hill, and when we came to the same point in looking down on the young city, our mind reverted back over the past, and we recollect the fact that just one year had elapsed since we were standing on the same spot and looking down on the same landscape. But how changed the scene. Instead of a few scattering cloth tents and rude wooden structures, we beheld a city containing a population between five and ten thousand, with many of the finest and most costly buildings in the State--a city containing the best Court-house and City Hall in Nevada. Instead of the rattle of one ten-stamp mill, on every side was the deep rumbling of a hundred stamps. The most pleasing feature about the town which attracted our attention was the Hamilton Public School-building. No man knoweth what a year may bring forth.
The Empire could well state “No man knoweth what a year may bring forth. The White Pine News moved down the hill from Treasure City in January of 1870 and a fierce rivalry began. April 10, 1870 the Inland Empire suspended publication.
February 17, 1870 edition of the White Pine News carried an interesting calculation of men engaged in mining and milling in the district and the estimated annual production per man:
192 Stamps in Mills January 1870
| Mill | Stamps | Mill | Stamps |
| Stanford | 30 | Oasis | 10 |
| Manhattan | 24 | Staples | 10 |
| Dayton | 20 | Monte Criston | 10 |
| Big Smokey | 20 | Drake & Applegarth | 8 |
| Metropolitan | 15 | Morton & Cutts | 5 |
| Nevada | 10 | Henderson | 5 |
| Swansea | 10 | Henderson | 5 |
| Chicago | 10 | | |
The above chart does not include the twenty stamps at the Centenary mill at Newark. It had not been reducing White Pine ore for several months. An estimated five men were employed to each stamp. That number includes men taking ore from the mine and men running the stamps. Each stamp will reduce 1 ½ tons of ore daily. The crushing capacity of the 192 stamps would be estimated at 288 tons per day, or 105,120 tons per year. This number is derived from the assumption that the stamps ran every day but Sundays throughout the year. They placed the average yield of the ore at the reasonable sum of $35 per ton. Thus, the product of the labor of 960 men and 192 stamps would amount to approximately $3,679,200 per year. Therefore, the annual product of each man would be $3,832.50. The men averaged $4 per day for 365 days, leaving $2,372.50 as clear profit for the labor of each man during the year.
White Pine News was a powerful Republican advocate. Democrats purchased the material of the Empire to support their cause and October 4, 1870 George W. Cassidy revived the Inland Empire.
The paper’s final suspension was November 9, 1870 when the material was sold to H. C. Patrick and moved to Stockton, California. White Pine News was reduced from a daily to a weekly November 23, 1872. It was sold to Archibald Skillman and Fred Elliott on February 8, 1873 and the politics were changed to Democratic. Elliott retired in 1875 and in November of 1878, Skillman suspended publication.
Although several attempts were made to revive the News, none were successful. The last effort suspended December 23, 1880 and the plant was moved to Cherry Creek.
There were a lot of people in the area and all of the population figures mentioned in the various publications were as close to fact as possible on the day the count was taken! This was a transient group going from one place to the other. Many were out on their claims and were not counted at all - many roamed from one town to the other. Newspapers and mine promoters would expand the numbers to entice others to invest in the area. The 1870 Census enumerated from June 16 to July 13, 1870 showed 3,913 residents.
Main Street was a mile long and cross streets carried the town to a mile and a half in width. Many of the business’s were housed in tents while other used anything which might be converted into roofs, including whiskey barrels and packing crates. All was bustle and hurry, noise and excitement and confusion. In addition, Hamilton was only one of the “jewels” on this mountaintop
In all, 195 White Pine mining companies were incorporated. Their shares were traded enthusiastically throughout the nation. There were many stage lines competing for business in the White Pine District. The glowing reports of the fabulous riches of Treasure Hill proved attractive to many companies. In all, ten stage companies were engaged in shuttling heavily loaded and top-heavy coaches between Hamilton and the Central Pacific Railroad to the north. Probably typical of several operations were the thirty-five men and one hundred and sixteen horses employed by the Len Wines operation. Competition for the business of the route led to racing against time over the 120 miles. The regular time of twenty-four hours for the run was cut to seventeen and one-half hours. Frequently teams would arrive at the same time and race into Hamilton neck to neck. This in turn, became a sporting event for the townspeople who turned out in large numbers to wager on the finish of the races.
The coaches were often overloaded. The fate of a Wells Fargo coach out of Elko is characteristic of such occasions. The coach had twelve passengers crowded into space for nine, an additional heavy load of express packages, freight and baggage when it hit a deep rut in the road and toppled. Such accidents were considered a common risk that must be endured.
Mining excitement eventually subsided, and disgust followed the White Pine excesses in the winter of 1869-70. Mother Nature had played a strange trick on the White Pine District. The rich ore proved to be just surface float and gave out a shot distance underground. Sometime in the past, the earth had spit it up in chunks. Uncertainty over mining development led to depression. Speculators withdrew; miners took up their blankets and walked away; merchants closed up shop. The rush soon was going out instead of coming in. There were more mills than ores inefficient furnaces, and no interest in or ability to handle lower-grade ores once the richest had been taken. Fires hastened the town’s collapse. In June 1873 a cigar store owner set fire to his shop to collect insurance. To ensure the success of his fire, he shut off most of the water coming into camp. The flames spread through the town and destroyed $600,000 in property.
The originator of the disastrous fire was sentenced to seven years in the state prison. This certainly did not help the people who had suffered the financial losses due to his crime. When Charles Sumner visited Hamilton in 1878 on a trip to Pioche, he wrote, “Hamilton, by the known multitude on its former directory, and the special promise of prosperity in its developments, surpassed all previous impressions of sudden collapse and decay.” Sumner saw three hundred houses, many of them going to ruin. Not one in five was occupied. Sumner was told than one half the dwellings that once stood in Hamilton had been taken down and moved to either Pioche or Eureka. He writes, “now that the fire fiend has made a sweeping visit to this deserted village, I may claim to have written of the last town appearance of Hamilton as it was originally constructed.”
Charles Sumner described the courthouse as a very solid and finished edifice, sitting over a quarter of a mile from the center of town. The water works were described as waiting for a revival.
In 1885, another fire destroyed the courthouse. The Withington Hotel served as a temporary site to serve the counties citizens. Before long, the rush of traffic was going out instead of coming in. Two years later the town lost the county seat to Ely. Do not think that Hamilton gave up the fight to remain the county seat with out a battle. After the bill passed providing for the construction of county buildings and the removal of the county seat to Ely in January 1887, Hamilton threatened to secede from the county. February 27, 1887 the White Pine News in Taylor printed the following:
Want to Secede
“A Hamilton correspondent writes us under date of Feb. 17th:
There is a petition her in circulation to be presented to the Legislature asking to be appointed to Eureka County. All but five men here have signed it. White River and Newark Valley are with them. Money has been contributed and counsel engaged at Carson to put the matter through. You people had better rustle and put in a stopper, or you may get left.”
The News did not take this threat too seriously. They replied that if “they want to go and stand ready to pay their just proportion of the debt of this county, we shall throw no obstacle in their way.” The article expressed the opinion that the people in Hamilton were resorting to juvenile tactics. This counter-argument ended with “It is probable, however, that our representatives in the Legislature will see to it that our neighbors across the range will remain with us a while longer and play second fiddle in the new programs.” Ultimately, in spite of threats to secede and suits to stop the bonding for the courthouse in Ely, Hamilton lost the final battle to retain the county seat.
A humorous story came out of the “great fire.” A well-known character in Hamilton was “Colonel” Joseph Grandelynr. Grandelynr was an authority on metallurgy and lexicography. He always met the stage to tell newcomers about the advantages of the district. When the economic decline set in, the “Colonel” was hired as a night watchman by San Francisco owners of a mine and mill who continued to pay county taxes and insurance. The story is told that when the great fire broke out the “colonel” sent a message to the owners stating that he was saving the mill but in the meantime, he was losing his wardrobe, of which he was inordinately proud. A speedy reply by telegraph from the owners suggested that he save his wardrobe, but let the mill burn!
Early in this century, the district was active at the Belmont mill. Lead-silver ore was shipped to Eureka. Since that time, the White Pine District has seen sporadic mining and exploration, but nothing remains at Hamilton but foundations and memories of a glorious time.
One who stayed with Hamilton was Louis Zadow. He came to the White Pine District in 1867 and established a butcher shop. One the butcher shop was established, Zadow returned to Germany for his bride. They returned to Hamilton in 1873, just as the decline set in. Zadow expanded his business to general merchandise. His five children were trained in the business. For forty years, Zadow gave aid to scores of prospectors in their constant search for minerals. Louis Zadow died at Hamilton on January 8, 1918 at the age of seventy-five. His widow remained in Hamilton until 1928, then moved to Ely. March 14, 1931 Hamilton lost its post office.
Who knows what the next century will bring! Mining companies are constantly working to improve the technology required to extract precious metal from the earth. As in the 1800’s, the destiny of the White Pine District hangs on the “fickle finger of fate”: the metal’s market, dollar value, weather, government intervention and recovery methods.
1. Napias. An interpretation of the word has been given as Goshute for money, silver or paper. Legend tells of two prospectors in Eureka, NV (Formerly Napias) who were told by an Indian who brought them rock samples from a rich ore body, “Mebbe so napias.”
