One Man's Gold Rush

By TW Paterson

John C. Bryant’s account of his 25 years as a professional miner in British Columbia is unique. Like tens of thousands of other hopefuls, he joined in the Fraser River gold rush in 1858. Unlike most of the others who were disappointed, however, Bryant continued to follow the golden grail for a quarter of a century—Cariboo, Big Bend, the Omineca. Although he never struck it rich he made a comfortable living. Comfortable in the economic sense, that is; life as a prospector, placer miner and trapper was anything but comfortable in fact, with dangers and hardships all in a day’s work.
Just as Bryant came to know almost every creek bed, he also came to know almost every miner who participated in the gold rushes that helped to establish Canada’s westernmost province. Better yet, he remembered them all in vivid detail and provided firsthand insight into characters and events that are not to be found elsewhere.
First published in Dr. W.W.Walkem’s Stories of Early British Columbia in 1914, Bryant’s outstanding career is little known today because most copies of the first and only printing of Walkem’s book are believed to have been destroyed in a warehouse fire.
One Man’s Gold Rush is as John Bryant told it to Dr. Walkem. Only necessary refinements and/or revisions have been made. With annotations, an appendix and an index added, a rare and unique story becomes an even more valuable addition to the British Columbia story.

• Language: English
• Publisher: TW Paterson
• Release date: Aug 3, 2021
• ISBN: 9780921271079

TW Paterson

For more than 50 years, T.W. Paterson wrote magazine and newspaper articles about the history of British Columbia. He wrote a weekly column in the Cowichan Valley newspaper for many years of historically accurate stories told by a master story teller. He is the winner of the British Columbia Historical Federation Recognition Award.

Book preview

FOREWORD

Gold! There has never been anything like it before or since.

Its chance discovery, first in the Thompson River in 1857, then on a ‘Fraser’s’ River sandbar in the following year, put Canada’s future westernmost province on the map.

Within months of the initial discovery, colonial Vancouver Island’s population exploded from a few hundreds to fifteen thousand as hopeful prospectors who had despaired of finding their fortunes in California, headed north. Others quickly followed. From around the world they came, drawn irresistibly by this new El Dorado, as word continued to spread of the riches of Hill’s Bar then other Fraser River sandbars.

Gold for the taking! Why, a man just had to pick it up off the ground, people said, or, at worst, work a gold pan or rocker or sluice box to make more in a few days or weeks than he could make in years, even a lifetime as a labourer.

In an age when few could hope to retire at all, let alone comfortably, the promise of instant and easy riches was an overwhelming temptation—strong enough for them to forsake family farms, labouring jobs, trades and small businesses, even professional careers. Strong enough for them to leave their families and friends behind by throwing up everything they had, even risking their lives, to travel halfway round the world by sailing ship to seek their fortunes.

As Cornishman John Cradock Bryant, one of the first argonauts to seek his fortune on the Fraser’s River put it, We were taken with fever, and nothing would do but that we must pull our stakes and set out for the Land of Promise.

Few struck it rich, of course, not even after newer strikes in the Cariboo offered further opportunities for latecomers. Professional tin miner Bryant was one of those who made a modest fortune and did not spend it foolishly. His hard-earned gains enabled him to semi-retire after twenty-five years of picking and panning his way around British Columbia, to manage his own saloon in Nanaimo in 1884.

That’s where William Wymond Walkem, medical doctor, journalist and politician interviewed him for inclusion in his 1914 book, Stories of Early British Columbia. Walkem recognized that Bryant was unique–a veteran of every British Columbia mining boom of consequence–and a man, it would seem, of photographic recall.

John Bryant’s story is all the more priceless because, all the while he was adding to his poke, he was rubbing shoulders with some of the greats of provincial mining history: Billy Barker, Twelve-Foot Davis, Cariboo Cameron, Gassy Jack Deighton and a host of others.

This is the story of the Fraser River and Cariboo gold rushes as told by a man who lived through them. It is fortunate for posterity that his story survives as most of the copies of the first and only printing of Stories of Early British Columbia were destroyed in a warehouse fire.

Nanaimo Innkeeper Had Colourful Career as Miner

John Cradock Bryant was best known to Nanaimo residents as mine host of the Old Flag Inn. This was after a twenty-five-year-long career as colourful as that of any prospector who ever picked and panned his way about B.C. His connection with the Bastion Street inn (the Old Flag’s original location) predated his managing it for the jovial John F. Jenkins, as it was reported in the Free Press, in July 1887, that Bryant had sent Jenkins a monster fossil from the Skeena River country.

The fossil takes the exact shape of the head of a toad or dog, showing clearly all the marked features of that animal. The protuberance on the forehead is most marked, while the mouth is deeply indented, making it an exact counterpart of the head of a toad or dog...

Bryant, one of the first argonauts to seek his fortune on Fraser’s River, stands out among his peers because he made a career of mining by following each new gold rush after the Fraser River and the Cariboo. We know this because Dr. W.W. Walkem, Nanaimo colliery physician, immortalized him in his 1914 book, Stories of Early British Columbia. Bryant’s career takes up a good part of the book, actually a collection of short tales. Walkem recognized that Bryant was unique–a veteran of every B.C. mining boom of consequence–and a man, it would seem, of photographic recall.

His story, as recounted, is the result of God only knows how many interviews, which would have been conducted in Nanaimo, and without benefit of a tape recorder. One can only hope that Walkem was skilled in shorthand as the chapter on Bryant is no less than 29,000 words long.

Cornwall-born in 1831, Bryant sailed for the New World in 1854, working his way across the continent after many exciting episodes to San Francisco. He was too late for the Golden State’s great rush of ‘49, but just in time for the Fraser River excitement. We were taken with fever, and nothing would do but that we must pull our stakes and set out for the Land of Promise, he told Walkem. He first set foot on B.C. soil on a beautiful piece of meadow land, now known as Ladner (named for one of his party).

Over the next quarter of a century Bryant never quite struck it rich, but always added to his poke and rubbed shoulders with some of the greats of provincial mining history: Billy Barker, Twelve-Foot Davis, Cariboo Cameron, Gassy Jack Deighton and a host of others.

Unlike his peers who made their fortunes, Bryant hung onto his hard-earned gold. He semi-retired, as manager of the Old Flag, in 1884. It was at this point that Walkem concluded his life story, leaving us to wonder what the gypsy miner thought of the relatively tame life of an innkeeper in Nanaimo after a career packed with the adventures of several ordinary lifetimes.

Dr. W. W. Walkem, Author, Adventurer and Physician

He never wrote a bestseller but the would-be explorer, soldier and Nanaimo medical officer did write one of British Columbia’s rarest books.

In fact, William Wymond Walkem’s career was every bit as exciting as those of the pioneers whose adventurers he recounted in Stories of Early British Columbia.

Born in Montreal in 1850, the son of the chief engineer and draughtsman for the Royal Engineers, young William received his medical degree at Queen’s University, Kingston, at age twenty-three. Upon graduation he went to England and became acquainted with Maj.-Gen. Sir William who was planning an expedition to darkest Africa to rescue the missing journalist/explorer, Stanley, and invited young Walkem along. Only Stanley’s safe return averted what would indeed have been the adventure of a lifetime.

So Walkem settled for service with the British forces and, during the Fenian (Irish independence) excitement of the 1860s, participated in the battle of Eccles Hill, Que., on May 25, 1870. By 1874 he was in B.C., acting as private secretary to brother George Walkem who’d just become premier. After a stint as managing editor of Victoria’s Daily Standard he was appointed medical health officer for the capital city.

Still restless, he moved to Burrard Inlet to serve in this capacity for two sawmilling companies. Not until 1881did he finally settle down, with wife Edith and family, in Nanaimo where, during construction of the E&N Railway, he was company physician for the coal mining Dunsmuirs. He later held this position at their South Wellington Collieries.

Coal mining was a dangerous occupation: time and again Walkem’s name appears in the Free Press as having attended to some mishap or other. Many of these underground injuries were horrendous; his was no job for the squeamish. For seven years, ‘87-’94, he was coroner. It was in this capacity that Walkem conducted the inquest into Vancouver Island’s worst-ever mine disaster, that of the No. 1. In between such grim duties he found time to act as inspector of B.C. penitentiaries, then as the member for South Nanaimo in the provincial legislature, 1884-90.

Edith passed away after twelve years of marriage and Walkem later married Minnie Brown of New Westminster. Upon his death in 1919, Dr. Walkem left his second wife , three daughters and a son. Sapper William Walkem, who’d followed in family tradition by enlisting in the Royal Engineers, had been killed during the First World War.

His book on B. C. pioneers is extremely rare as most of the first and only printing were destroyed in a warehouse fire.

Excerpt from Stories of Early British Columbia

When I arrived in British Columbia, some forty years ago, I was fortunate in meeting many of those brave spirits, servants of the Great Fur Company, who had come to New Caledonia, Oregon, and the Pacific coast to fill positions of trust, in the various posts, which the Hudson’s Bay Company erected from time to time to meet the requirements of their fur trade. These pioneers of the Far West" were men of exceptional bravery and intelligence and were fortunately at the time of my arrival still vigorous in mind as well as in body.

As a boy I had read many of the stories of Ballantyne, and Capt. Mayne Reid, with a throbbing heart, and those silent, moccasined, and brave heroes depicted by the facile pen of Fenimore Cooper, I had admired and loved. Thinking to obtain from the old servants of the Hudson’s Bay Company, stories of a similar kind, I took every opportunity of questioning them on their life history. I was sorely disappointed, for the heroic age of the Indian must have passed away.

The reminiscences of Mr. J. C. Bryant will give the present generation some idea of the trials and vicissitudes which the early gold seekers encountered in their search after the precious metal. Mr. Bryant, who is still alive was one of the earnest and valuable of the Cariboo miners as he was, besides being a prospector, an explorer who made good use of his eyes."

W. Wymond Walkem

Vancouver, B. C., 16th July, 1914

Johnny Bryant’s Story

Among those who are still living, and who played an important part in the mining life of British Columbia, is Mr. John C. Bryant, of Nanaimo. I will write no introduction to his story. Good wine needs no bush. I will tell Mr. Bryant's story as he gave it to me, and I will simply add that it will be found extremely interesting.

I was born, said Mr. Bryant, in Cornwall, England, on the 23rd September, 1831. For many years previous to my leaving for America, I had been working in the copper mines of my native country.

When I was twenty-three years of age, I was working in the parish of St. Neots. Dissatisfied with conditions as they then existed in Cornwall, I set out for America to seek my fortune. This was in the year 1854. The first mines I obtained work in on the American continent were the copper mines of Lake Superior. After spending three years there I set out for the Golden West, by way of Nicaragua. That country was at the time I crossed it with a small party, which we had formed for mutual protection, suffering from a state of utter lawlessness caused by the invasion of a band of American filibusterers under the leadership of a man named Walker. The members of our party were Jesse Pears, George Bailey, Jim Ralph, Thomas Mutton, Charles York and myself.

After many exciting episodes, which want of space will not allow of my recounting, we finally reached San Juan del Norte, on the Pacific Coast. Here we embarked on a steamer bound for San Francisco, which we reached after a quiet passage of two weeks. On arriving at this city we started out for Grass Valley, Nevada County, where I mined with Sam Sincock for a partner for nearly a year. Quite a large number of Englishmen were working there at the same time. In the winter of 1857 reports of rich placer mines on the Fraser River, British Columbia, were current throughout California, and caused much excitement. We were taken with the fever, and nothing would do but that we must pull our stakes and set out for the Land of Promise. As the party which had existed when crossing Nicaragua had all scattered after our arrival at San Francisco, we lost no time in forming a new one to go to British Columbia. This new party consisted of Bill Ladner, Jack Bunnie, Sam Sincock, Ned Branch, Tom Scadden and myself. We took passage at San Francisco on the steamer Commodore, and landed at Victoria on the 11th of May 1858. Our steamer contained the first party of Englishmen to arrive at the port of Victoria from California.

After spending a week in Victoria building a boat, we chartered a schooner to carry us across the Straits of Fuca. We landed at Point Roberts, and after transferring our supplies to our boat, we set out in it for the Fraser River, which we entered by way of Canoe Pass. Out first night camp was on a beautiful piece of meadow land, now known as Ladner. Bill Ladner was so taken with it as a farm site that he vowed if he was favored by fortune, to come back and live on it. He subsequently kept his word, as everybody knows, for Ladner's is today one of the finest and most progressive farming settlements of the Lower Fraser. Next morning we proceeded up the river and landed at Fort Hope. Here we found many other men who had come principally from California, looking for claims. On the day following our arrival at Fort Hope we went down the river and staked claims on Murderer's Bar, which was about three miles from Fort Hope. The water at this time was too high to allow of our working our claims, and it was not until the latter part of August that it fell sufficiently low to admit of our going to work with any chance of success.

The majority of those who were waiting at Hope to engage in mining were from the other side of the line and principally from California. About the 8th of June, Donald McLean, chief trader in the service of the Hudson's Bay Company, arrived at Fort Hope with a very valuable pack of furs from Fort Thompson. Just as he arrived at the fort, a white man had come up the river with a boat load of Chinese. As the boat with the Chinese crew came alongside of the bank, a crowd of Californians lined the top and declared that no Chinese would land there. The white man pleaded that he had been paid to transport these Chinese to Fort Hope, and he did not feel like taking them back again unless he was paid for doing so Well, it doesn't matter whether you are paid or not, no Chinese will land at Fort Hope. We'll see who is going to have the say about whether Chinese come here or not. We say they shall not, said the Californian crowd. Just at this moment Chief Trader McLean stepped through the crowd and took a position on the bank above the boat, with a cocked revolver in his hand and accompanied by his eldest son Alexander.

Who says these Chinese are not to land? said McLean, with head erect and haughty eye. I represent the Hudson's Bay Company who own this country, and as their representative I say they shall land. Then turning to his son he told him to go up to the rancherie and bring down some Indians. On Alexander's return with the Indians McLean explained to them in their own tongue the position of affairs, and then directed them to take the baggage of the Chinese and carry it up to the fort, and place it within the stockade. This was done, and McLean then told the Chinese to come up on the bank and proceed to the fort and camp inside of the stockade, finishing his directions with the significant words, and I would like to see the man who would stop you.

The Chinese accordingly moved within the stockade and camped. Jim Walker was in charge of Fort Hope at that time. One day word came down the river that an Indian had been killed up at Yale, and that the Indians in revenge were about to make a descent on Hope and kill every white man to be found there. When this word was brought down these same Californians made haste to the fort and sought protection behind the stockades. Then Walker told them they were a pack of cowards, whose only bravery was shown in threatening Chinese. Act like men, he said, your flocking into the fort is a good indication to the Indians how cowardly you are. I am going to mount that stump, pointing to the sawn-off butt of a large tree, and you will do much better if you stand by that gun and serve it. If any Indians come down here I will sweep them off the face of the earth. This report turned out a false alarm, and these brave Californians once more breathed easily.

In the meantime we had built ourselves a convenient shack, big enough to hold all our party comfortably. We had likewise cleared off the bank of the river to give us some room to move about. To show that we were British we started to make a Union Jack. For the white we used some flour sacks, for the blue we cut up some blue drilling overalls, and for the red we used some red undershirts. After completing the flag we cut out two letters to represent G. B. (Great Britain) and put them in the centre of the flag. You must understand that these Americans on account of being so close to the inter-national boundary line, imagined that all land they saw belonged to Uncle Sam, and we were determined that if possible they should learn the opposite. Well, I got a nice pole and fastened our flag to it and then climbed the highest tree at the back of our shack, and trimmed the top of the tree of all limbs and bark for a considerable distance. Then I fastened the pole with the flag attached to it to the top of the tree, where it flew as a land mark to show that our country was British and that Britons were there to defend it.

A short time after we had started working our claim, some disturbances took place at Yale. These got so serious that Governor Douglas with the first officer of the Satellite, a British gunboat, passed up the river It did not take a determined man like Governor Douglas long to bring the disturbers to their senses, and few days after that the governor landed at Hope and came down to Murderers' Bar and out on our claim. He called us all together and made us a speech much as follows: "Gentlemen, when I was passing up the river