Mother Lode - 1849-1949

Sep 28, 2026

Uploaded by Aditya

A historical narrative in verse by May Merrill Miller tracing California’s Gold Rush era from 1849 through 1949. The text frames the Mother Lode as a living, recurring “tune” that draws prospectors along the same dusty road, blending optimism, labor, and memory across generations. It contrasts early mining activity and frontier life with later arrivals and cultural encounters, portraying change over time while keeping the central call to search, rebuild, and persist.

LanguageEnglish

CategoryLiterature

FormatPDF

Pages52

Reading Time1 h 20 min

AccessFree to download

Introduction

From Fiddletown to Jackass Hill

Music of the Mother Lode across generations

Cultural encounters and frontier change

# Mother Lode1849 to 1949 May Merrill Miller # MOTHER LODE ## 1849-1949 By May Merrill Miller "The California year of 1849;what was it?Anexclamation point in the history of civilization;adash in the annals of time.This twelve-month wasnot so much a year as an age.....we could as welldrop out of history a hundred of other years,as thisone most notable year.” HUBERT HowE BANCROFT Published by MURRAY &GEE,INC.CULVER CITY,CALIFORNIA 1949 Copyright I949byMAY MERRILL MLLER All rights reserved by the author includingthe right to reproduce this book orany portions thereof in any form. FIRST EDITION Press of MURRAY &GEE,INc. to Justin # MOTHER LODE1849-1949 From Fiddletown to Jackass HillFiddling fingers are fiddling still, Fiddling past many an old tomb stoneFor the Mother Lode is calling her own! Calling her fiddlers the Mother Lode laughsAt lichened dates and carved epitaphs:"What,"she asks,"are a hundred years?A century's passing is less than appears And a tune played once can be played againBy fiddling fingers and fiddling men!” For her seekers still prospect the same dusty road,Still listen to tune of the same Mother Lode, Beyond yesterday's orchards of apple and pear And the discouraged miners who planted them thereA tune comes ringing that will not down—There's fiddling now in Fiddletown! Nights when the ghostly sluices are stillAnd quicksilver's halted in stamping mill,Men from Missouri tuck fiddles to chinsAnd the Mother Lode's luring tune begins: Prospectors listen and pick up their packs,Loaded jackasses follow old jackasses'tracks,Rust is rubbed from forgotten panAnd Angel's Creek runs where the old creek ran. Page .Nine It's more than Susanna or Clementine That goes tuning down canons to Utica mine,It's all of the magic of forty-nine!.... O hearken to tune of heartbreaking trustRising from dust that is golden dust,From Fiddletown to Jackass HillCalifornia is fiddling it still, Still comes the tune down the same dusty road,O hearken to tune of our own Mother Lode! On Fiddletown nights the lamp light is brightFor the Pedro game's going to last all the night,The fiddlers are playing the tunes they knowThey started to play when they left St.Jo. Yet even on this bonanza range Fiddletown's music is sometimes strange—Into the spaces where fiddles are muteCalls eerie cry of a foreign flute And into honest American songs Wails homesick crescendo of alien gongs;Down by the creek swing silk strung bells,Many a smouldering punk stick smells, Swarming thousands of Canton ChinksTenting in these outlandish stinks,In padded jacket and braided queueEach coolie dreaming he'll find gold too! Old China is here when the sun goes down....They've brought more than picks to Fiddletown:They've built an adobe all their ownWhere they worship the gods they've always known; They've brought their idols and keep them thereThey brush pink papers with many a prayer, You'd laugh fit to kill when they go through the motionsOf bowing to make their heathen devotions! Poor devils,they'll find out who is boss Leave them a while their House of JossLeave them a while their ancestors'godsSoon enough will come stones and clods: We'll fire their shanties,claim stones overturn,Their sluices,their cradles we'll burn, Only their Joss House will be free from our searchAfter all,to them heathen,the damned thing's a church! So strike up the fiddling,say farewell to sorrowYou can dig at that vein of fool's gold tomorrow,Strike up the fiddles,they brighten the road Of the pick and the pack on the old Mother Lode!....The tune goes on as a reckless tune willFrom Fiddletown to Jackass Hill.... The Chinamen go,the Austrians comeThe stamping mill continues to hum....And folks from covered wagons come tooWith women folks prizing what women folks do: One brings a spool crib for babies to sleep inOne brings a tintype of Abraham Lincoln: “Some said Abe was homely;I liked him the bestOf the nei

FAQs

What time span does the book cover?

The poem is titled “MOTHER LODE” and the section heading “1849-1949” indicates the span from 1849 to 1949.

How does the poem describe the Mother Lode?

It personifies the Mother Lode as a calling “tune” that keeps bringing seekers back along the same road and continuing through time.

Where is the journey centered in the text?

The recurring movement is from “Fiddletown to Jackass Hill,” with repeated references to the dusty road and the mining camps.

Sep 28, 2026

Uploaded by Aditya