California's Amazing Gold Rush Musicians

By Craig MacDonald

"The violin shrieked, the guitar was out of tune, the abominable triangle gave forth about as sweet music as a tin pan but the capacity crowd responded with thunderous applause."

—An 1851 observation by Grass Valley's Luther Schaeffer

Music of any type (or skill level) was in such demand in the Gold Rush that miners often would pay whatever it took to hear musicians perform.

"Anyone who could torture horsehair and catgut into consecutive sounds made more for his labor than from mining," noted a Marysville scribe.

"A musician could earn two ounces of gold ($32) by scraping a squeaky fiddle for two hours every evening or by puffing into an asthmatic flute," wrote French emigrant Albert Bernard de Russailh.

"A person who could manipulate a musical instrument, however poorly, and was lucky enough to have brought one with him, could command an immense salary for his services," wrote another Forty-Niner.

Violins, guitars, flutes, bugles and other light instruments that were easily transported became the first to arrive in mining camps. John Kelly, an immensely popular wandering Sierra violinist, was celebrated in the diggings and greeted with wild enthusiasm wherever he roamed.

"A fiddle will draw hundreds of heads together and render the passage of horse teams slow and difficult," wrote a reporter in Bodie.

"Wherever a fiddler could be found to play, a dance was got up," explained Gold Rush observer J.D. Borthwick. "Even if there were no women in camp, men would get up and dance with each other. They danced with ardor and filled the air with splinters from the puncheon floor."

Saloon owners loved to hire backwoods fiddlers to sit on a barrel by the door and lure prospectors in with their lively music.

If ever enough instruments could be brought together to form an orchestra, people considered themselves very fortunate, indeed. And, the business where they played usually would overflow with patrons, even if the sounds weren't always up-to-par.

"The door of many a gambling hall stands invitingly open; the wail of torture from innumerable music instruments peals from all quarters through the darkness," wrote Bayard Taylor, a correspondent for The New York Tribune. "Full bands, each playing different tunes, discordantly are stationed in front of the principal establishments."

"The noise from different gambling tents could even drown out the professional musicians playing in Sacramento's famed Eagle Theatre," wrote Historian Franklin MacDonald, Ph.D. "There was immense competition between the tents. One would have a large band blaring away in front, another, a richly dressed lady flutist or violinist, yet another, a crew of Ethiopian minstrels picking out 'Oh Susanna' on their banjos."

"A band made up of a cracked drum and an asthmatic clarinet that marched to celebrate the new Amador County Court House was as good as the one which escorted Napoleon to his palace on the island of Elba," proclaimed one critic.

Some groups rented themselves out, like the members of a German Brass Band, who advertised they could "execute any kind of music" for $10 per hour or $50 per night. Many toured San Francisco, Sacramento and the Sierra, where their appearances were greatly anticipated and appreciated.

World-renown, Vienna-born Pianist Henri Herz tried mining but decided his gold was best found in the keys of a piano. In early Sacramento, he had to use the town's only piano, described as "a cut-down instrument with but six octaves." "He was a little cramped but still masterful," wrote one reviewer.

Although he made much money, Herz had several odd things happen to him during his California visits: He once arrived for a Sacramento concert only to discover his piano was not there.

"Herz looked at the rough and bearded audience in a very agreeable trepidation," reported The Dramatic Chronicle. "What if the gold-digging dilettanti should take it in their heads to give him a taste of revolver or bowie knife by way of filling up time?"
"Heavy drops of perspiration stood on the frightened pianist's brow and he began to wish he was elsewhere. The miners saw his alarm and one shouted comfort to him: 'Never mind the cussed piano. We don't care for it. We came to see you. Make us a speech!'

"A somewhat relieved Herz spoke to the audience until his piano finally arrived. Then he sat on an empty whiskey keg and ran his fingers over the keyboard. 'Blum, blum, splash, splash,' not a musical sound did the piano utter. The persons who'd transported the instrument found it very heavy and floated it to (the concert location). When dragging it from the levee, they had neglected to pour out the water."

Another time, he visited San Francisco and the entire theater burned down, along with his piano!

Pianist/Conductor Charles Schultz could do Herz one better. When a fire broke out, he kept the orchestra playing "Firemans' March," until the San Francisco theater was emptied.

Pianist Louis M. Gottschalk was a Sierra sensation until, following a concert in Dutch Flat, he reportedly "got involved with a student from the Oakland Female Seminary and went to South America to escape vigilantes."

Blind British Pianist Joseph Heine received rave reviews, such as this one in the Daily Alta: "His performance was wonderful…. One cannot but admire the great artist, who never saw the instrument he makes cry and laugh at will."

Several women pianists also toured, including Italian Carlotta Patti ("young and celebrated, exhibiting fine power") and "Miss Potier" ("known for her fine music and maiden bashfulness.")

Fellow musicians, Pianist Frederick Grampas, Violinist Emilia Chaigneau and Flutist Emile Leya earned this high praise in a Marysville review: "They played some of the gems from 'Lucia di Lammermoor' and rarely, even in the most critical musical parties in New York City, have we heard a trio play with such taste, ability and precision."

Other widely appreciated Mother Lode artists included, Harpists Abecco Raphael and Robert Nicholas; Clarinetists "Herr Schubert" and "Mrs. Roach;" Trombonists Edward Buchel and Tom La Font; Banjo & Tamborine players Edwin Christy and Sam Pride; Flutists Charles Koppitz and F. Frohling; Bugler "Mr. Hall," Drummer "L. Loud;" Guitarist Edward Pique; French Horn specialist E. Schiffel, and Castanetist "Mr. Moulton."

One of the most-celebrated Gold Rush entertainers was 6-year-old Paul Boulbon, who "brought down the house" with his lively violin rendition of "Arkansas Traveler" in Downieville.

A Norweigan violinist, called "Ole Bull," thrilled spellbound spectators with Paganini's "Witches' Dance," even though critics said, "His execution was technically perfect but his interpretation was lost in mechanical efficiency."

One reviewer, found him "a man of remarkable character and an artist of undoubted genius, but his heart was not in his work." After an 1854 sold-out San Francisco concert, a gushing scribe raved: "They were gathered here from many lands, where they'd listened to his magic tones before. His reception was a pleasant one that must have surpassed the fondest hope of a man who had excited everywhere, an enthusiasm unparalleled in the history of instrumental triumph."

Another violinist, Miska Hauser, put on 26 concerts in three months. His final one lasted four hours due to the overwhelming requests for encores.

Violinist C.D. Abbott, who toured the mines in 1855 and 1858, reportedly ended up writing music for a popular Forty-Niner song, "Joe Bowers."

Fellow violinists "Signor Bona," enriched Marysville in 1858, and George Edmunds, entertained Dutch Flat in 1866. French violin sensation Camilla Urso "floored fans" with both her talent and beauty wherever she performed.

However, things didn't always go smoothly for the various musical personalities in the Mother Lode. The pride of some internationally diverse artists, on occasion, made it difficult for conductors to meld them into one cohesive unit. The first rehearsal for one Sierra band leader proved too much to bear.

An observer stated the artists got in an argument over what they preferred to play: "The Englishman insisted on 'Rule Britannia,' which fired up an American, who liked 'Yankee Doodle.' A Frenchman said, "He vood play nosink but see musique of 'La Belle France,' while a Hungarian insisted on the 'Polka,' causing the German director to storm off, shouting, 'Mine Got! Vat a country! Vat a peoples!'"

Speaking of "peoples," some rambunctious miners had to be reminded of their manners at concerts. The Daily Alta editorialized: "We would respectfully advise gentlemen, if they must expectorate tobacco juice at the theatre that they should be a little particular to eject it upon their own boots and pantaloons, instead of the boots and pantaloons of others!"

Nobody had to remind one unique group of "musicians" about manners. Well-disciplined organ grinders appeared to the delight of people in several towns. Mary Jane Megquier wrote she loved the music from one of them, whose little monkey wore a red coat trimmed with buttons and politely held up his straw hat to collect a shilling from every passerby.

(Don't laugh. A Gold Rush reporter told of a Swiss woman organ grinder who made more than $4,000 in a few short months by visiting gambling saloons.)

No matter how it was produced, the sweet (and even the not so sweet) sound of music made the hills of the Sierra, San Francisco and Sacramento, "come alive," bringing much-needed pleasure to the miners and performers, who found pay dirt in their passion.

The Sierra Nevada Mountains hills are still full of a wide variety of magnificent music, continuing the rich tradition of our pioneer musicians.

(The author's grandfather played the clarinet and bugle in the Mother Lode as well as in San Francisco bands. His grandmother and sister played piano & he played percussion instruments.)