Grass Valley grandly refers to itself as the "Heart of the Gold Industry," and it is hard to dispute that. This hilly, wooded location 110 miles along the Golden Chain was the richest underground mining area in the Gold Country. Dozens of mines, both small and large, produced tons of gold. Hundreds of miles of mine shafts and levels honeycomb the region. This was a town built on a golden foundation.

But there sure seemed to be a lot of stumbling going on.

Legend has it that in 1850 George Knight (called "McKnight" in some sources) was searching for a wandering cow. While looking for his itinerant bovine, Knight stubbed his toe on a rock outcropping and discovered gold. The clumsy Knight's stagger sparked the Grass Valley rush. A few months later, in October 1850, a lumberman named George Roberts found flecks of gold in an exposed ledge of quartz on Ophir Hill. Most descriptions indicate that Roberts "stumbled" upon his find. This strike led directly to the development of the Empire Mine, one of the richest gold mines in the west.

Evidently, there is a lot to be said for being awkward.

Soon, Grass Valley, named for its abundance of good forage, grew rapidly. Today, Grass Valley is one of the largest cities in the Gold Country, and a hub of commercial interests and a regional travel highlight. In 1997, Time Magazine named Grass Valley one of the "Top Ten Best Small Towns to Live In. "

There is no more hard rock mining in Grass Valley, although there are constant rumors of its revival. Two locations provide a taste of the mining culture. The first is the North Star Mining Museum, just down the hill from a small monument marking Knight's stumble. The museum is in the old powerhouse of the North Star Mine. This museum is a technological dream factory. Arrayed throughout this seasoned stone building are displays of the equipment used to wrench gold from the surrounding hillsides. One of these, the "Cornish Pump." The second is the Empire Mine Historic State Park. Both are linked to the Cornish influence in Grass Valley.

Cornwall is one of the oldest mining regions in the world. Miners often began work at the age of seven. The mine encompassed their being. It was their world and their calling. An old Cornish Christmas carol proclaims "Sound, sound, your instruments of Joy!" For the Cornish, the mine was their world and their calling -- they were, they invented, and they used the instruments of mining joy. There was a tangible sense of linkage to the underground. And from this connection, the Cornish miner became celebrated as the leading exponent of mineral extraction. It was the Cornish who solved most of the practical difficulties of blasting, timbering, and ventilating the mines. It was the Cornish who provided the vocabulary of mining that is still used worldwide. The terms shaft, winze, levels, stopes, cross-cut, adits and many others are Cornish inventions. In the mining communities of the American West, the Cornish were the most desirable immigrants. At one point in Grass Valley history, the Cornish comprised 85% of the town's population.

Why were the Cornish so sought after? Simple. Technically the Cornish were the world's most accomplished and skillful hard-rock miners. From the simple design of their narrow wheelbarrows ideally suited for underground labor to their mining terminology to their invention of state-of-the art technology the Cornish were proclaimed as the perfect match for the mountain's bounty.

The Cornish were not universally loved, however. It was during this hard-rock pilgrimage that immigrants from other countries began referring to the Cornish as "Cousin Jacks." At first, the nickname was far from a term of endearment. Other nationalities were envious of the Cornish miners' skills and often resentful of their clannishness and semi-privileged industrial situation. It is frequently recorded that the Cornish would persuade mine management to reserve a job for "my Cousin Jack" who was on his way, thereby denying another worker a slot. Others were jealous, particularly the Irish, but the reality was that "Cousin Jack" was often the more desirable and skilled employee and well worth the wait. Since "Cousin Jack" was often the hated rival for these other hopefuls, the name was in the beginning spat out with venom and bitterness. Only after years of toil and the growing recognition of the contributions of the Cornish miners did the term come to be used with affection. The Cornish women received a name as well -- they were called "Cousin Jinnies."

The Cornish also provided their special cultural characteristics to the mining regions. In religion, the Cornish were overwhelmingly Methodists. In fact, upon settlement, the first permanent Cornish-constructed building was usually a church. It was common for the Cornish mine superintendent to also serve as Sunday School superintendent. The Cornish formed choirs that sang their unique carols with a rough but heartfelt harmony. The Cornish organized brass bands that performed enthusiastically and even provided the first trombone section for the newly-formed San Francisco Symphony in the mid-19th century. But ... the Cornish were not saints. They also drank hard and played hard.

They fiercely competed in events tied to their jobs, such as drilling. Occasionally, a Cousin Jack was even known to engage in "high-grading" -- or snitching a piece of unusually valuable ore. The Cornish were particularly fond of boxing and wrestling matches. The histories of many western mining communities are replete with accounts of fisticuffs staged by the Cornish and often against Irish opponents. Thousand dollar side bets were not uncommon. Wrestling, usually referred to as "Cornish wrestling" in the history books, was a favorite. The combatants wore loose fitting canvas jackets, much like today's martial arts uniforms, as they had back in Cornwall. The matches were heavily attended, often outdrawing celebrity lectures and theatrical performances.

Perhaps best known are the Cornish foodstuffs the immigrants brought to America -- saffron buns and pasties. Saffron bread was a heavy baked good -- part cake, part bread -- bright orange from a heaping helping of saffron, the powder of the crocus flower. But it was the pasty (pronounced pass - tee) that came to symbolize the Cornish culinary contribution. The pasty is a baked meat pie comprised of beef (sometimes fish), onions, potatoes, parsley, and parsnips, all wrapped in a flaky pastry covering. These pasties were carried deep underground in the miner's lunch box and occasionally reheated over an open fire on shovel blades. Grass Valley has several establishments devoted to the sale of this Cornish staple.

The Cousin Jacks were tough people, quick to express their opinion -- generous with praise but blunt with criticism. They did not always succeed -- mining is an often frustrating and unprofitable adventure -- but, without question, the Cornish revolutionized mining in the West. Their widely acknowledged ability to sever mineral wealth from the rich lodes of the American West played a crucial role in the growth of the United States into an industrial giant. They also provided a colorful and unique addition to the social mosaic of the Gold Country.

In return, the Cousin Jacks downplayed their contributions. It was only a job, they would argue. Give me an honest day's pay for an honest day's work and a hot pasty at the end of the shift, the Cornish miner would say, and that'll be reward enough.

Today's Grass Valley features a number of historic and interesting structures. There is the 1851 Holbrooke Hotel, which once housed Mark Twain and four Presidents - Grant, Garfield, Cleveland, and Harrison. The homes of the scandalous Lola Montez and the energetic Lotta Crabtree are downtown. Sprinkled throughout Grass Valley are lovely 19th century homes, such as the Swan-Levine House, the Purcell House, and the ivy-covered Coleman House. The beautiful wooden Emanuel Episcopal Church, dating from 1858 stands majestically on Church Street and just down the lane is the 1863 Mount St. Mary's Convent and the 1894 St. Joseph's Catholic Church. On the fringe of town stands Lyman Gilmore School, the site of the first commercial airport west of the Mississippi.

Rough and Ready
Nevada County

In the center of Grass Valley, Highway 20 slices east and west. Five miles east of town on this highway lies Rough and Ready.

Rough and Ready slumbers today, but in 1850, it was the location of a secession movement.

Rough and Ready was founded in 1849 by Captain A.A. Townsend, who had served with General Zachary Taylor in the Mexican War. Taylor was a war hero and the twelfth United States President. Townsend christened the town with Taylor's nickname - "Old Rough and Ready."

In April 1850, ostensibly in protest over a miner's tax, the good citizens of Rough and Ready seceded from the Union and established the Great Republic of Rough and Ready. A constitution was drafted, a President elected, and a Secretary of State was chosen.

The secession lasted three months until the Fourth of July - Rough and Ready did not want to miss out on the festivities.

Technically, though, Rough and Ready was in rebellion until 1948. In that year the town applied for a post office. Upon discovering that the town was still "seceded" from the Union, the town fathers renounced their protest.

Rough and Ready grew quickly but just as rapidly declined. With a population of several hundred, Rough and Ready even toyed with the idea of becoming the county seat. In 1859, fire destroyed the town and it never rebounded.

Today Rough and Ready has an old Oddfellows Hall and the W.H. Fippin Blacksmith Shop, a Gold Rush structure pictured above, and a significant suburban bedroom community.