James Mason Hutchings was born February 10, 1820 in England. He immigrated to the United States in 1848, and then headed to California in 1849 during the Gold Rush. He became wealthy as a miner, then lost his fortune when his bank failed. He turned to publishing and tourism and regained his wealth. In 1855 Hutchings led the first tourist party into Yosemite, ultimately becoming one of the first settlers in Yosemite Valley. Hutchings published an illustrated magazine, Hutchings’ California Magazine that told the world about Yosemite and the Sierra. He was a tireless promoter, of himself and Yosemite. After Yosemite Valley was dedicated as a park in 1864, Hutchings believed he was entitled to retain160 acres in the valley.  The courts ruled otherwise.  He did, however, get a generous payment from the state to help compensate for his eviction from the valley. 

Hutchings was an innkeeper for the Calaveras Big Tree Grove Hotel, north of Yosemite. James Hutchings, while visiting Yosemite on October 31, 1902, was killed when his horse reared and threw him from his buggy.

Years later, when photographer Ansel Adams was a boy, his Aunt Mary gave him a copy of Hutching’s book, In the Heart of the Sierras, when he was sick. Ansel’s interest in the book persuaded his parents to vacation in Yosemite in 1916.  The love affair of Adams and Yosemite Valley began with that visit.

California for Waterfalls!

[San Francisco Daily California Chronicle, August 18, 1855.]

J. M. Hutchings writes to the Mariposa Gazette a description of the Yo-Semity Valley and its waterfalls. Mr. Hutchings, Mr. Ayres and Mr. Millard, both of San Francisco, and Mr. Stair, of Coulterville, formed a party to visit the place named. They appear to have started from an Indian village on the Fresno, where they procured two Indian guides. Mr. Hutchings says:

From Mr. Hunt’s store, we kept an east-of-north course, up the divide between the Fresno and Chowchillah valleys; thence descending towards the South Fork of the Merced river, and winding around a very rocky point, we climbed nearly to the ridge of the Middle or main fork of the Merced, and descending towards the Yo-Semity valley, we came upon a high point, clear of trees, from whence we had our first view of this singular and romantic valley; and, as the scene opened in full view before us, we were almost speechless with wondering admiration at its wild and sublime grandeur. “What!” exclaimed one at length, “have we come to the end of all things?” “Can this be the opening of the Seventh Seal?” cries another. “This far, very far, exceeds Niagara,” says a third.

We had been out from Mariposa about four days, and the fatigue of the journey had made us weary and a little peevish, but when our eyes looked upon the almost terrific grandeur of this scene, all, all was forgotten. “I never expected to behold so beautiful a sight!” “This scene alone amply repays me for the travel!” I should have lost the most magnificent sight that I ever saw had I not witnessed this!” were exclamations of pleasureable surprise that fell from the lips of all, as we sat down to drink in the varied beauties of this intoxicating and enchanting scene.

On the north side stands one bold, perpendicular mountain of granite, shaped like an immense tower. Its lofty top is covered with great pines, that by distance become mere shrubs. Our Indian guides called this the “Capitan.” It measures from the valley to its summit about two thousand eight hundred feet.

Just opposite this, on the south side of the valley, our attention was first attracted by a magnificent waterfall, about seven hundred feet in height. It looked like a broad, long feather of silver, that hung depending over a precipice; and as this feathery tail of leaping spray thus hung, a slight breeze moved it from side to side, and as the last rays of the setting sun were gilding it with rainbow hues, the red would mix with the purple, and the purple with the yellow, and the yellow with the green, and the green with the silvery sheen of its whitened foam, as it danced in space.

On rushed the water over its rocky bed, and as it reached the valley, it threw up a cloud of mist that made green and flourishing the grass and flowers, and shrubs, that slumbered at the mountain’s base—while towering three thousand feet above the valley, stood the rugged and pine covered cliffs that, in broken and spiral peaks, girdle in the whole.

Passing further up the valley, one is struck with the awful grandeur of the immense mountains on either side—some perpendicular, some a little sloping. One looks like a light-house, another like a giant capital of immense dimensions—all are singular, and surmounted by pines.

Now we crossed the river, and still advancing up the valley, turned a point, and before us was an indescribable sight—a waterfall two thousand two hundred feet in height—the highest in the world. It rushes over the cliffs, and with one bold leap falls one thousand two hundred feet, then a second of five hundred feet more, then a third of over five hundred feet more—the three leaps making two thousand two hundred feet.

Standing upon the opposite side of the valley, and looking at the tall pines below, the great height of these falls can at a glance be comprehended.

About ten miles from the lower end of the valley, there is another fall of not less than fifteen hundred feet. This, with lesser falls and a lake, make the head of the Yo-Semity Valley, so that this valley is about ten miles in length, and from a half to one mile in width; and although there is good land enough for several farms, it cannot be considered upon the whole as a good farming valley. Speckled trout, grouse and pigeons are quite numerous.

James Hutchings – image credits

Hutchings portrait – From National Park Service, Yosemite National Park Collection

Book cover – Original cover of In the Heart of the Sierras (Oakland, California: Pacific Press Publishing House, 1888)