I just read a post about the different ways people copy text off their computer screens. All ways work, and all ways have their pros and cons.
One person used a digital camera, took a picture, then probably printed it out and stuck it in a three ring binder. It works. Picture quality depends on photographer, camera, lights and other factors. Small details may be blurred or even missed.
Another took a screen-shot. A screen-shot gives excellent quality but what if you have a large page to copy? Two or even three screenshots to mess with? How do you merge them into one document? After your screen-shot where do you find them? What process is used to convert them from a picture (.jpg, .bmp, .gif) to text to save disk space? How do you store them?
These two methods are great. But with my ever expanding book collection, I don’t want to deal with another unorganized folder or binder.
You can do a File/SaveAs/Webpage type save but you get all the “accessories” associated with a web page.
The way I do it is fairly simple, gets rid of all the excess junk (ads, links, or hype) listed along the edges of the text and pictures you need. It is also already in text and picture format ready to use in any standard word processor available! Links are kept as links in the more powerful programs or converted to text in the lesser ones (like Notepad). The converted links can still be Copy/Pasted into your browser and used though.
Here is my method:
Find an article you like, go to the bottom of it, right-click and HOLD (highlighting the text, usually in blue) as you drag the mouse upward to the top. Release the mouse button. This should leave the text highlighted. Top to bottom works also but I find that I tend to over shoot the bottom and pick up excess garbage, and if you’ve already read the article, you’re at the bottom anyway.
Next, being sure the text is highlighted, press and hold the Ctrl (Control) key, then press the “C” key. This is the standard way to Copy in the world of Windows. Your text is now on the “Clipboard” (actually in memory) ready to be pasted in your word processor. If it contains pictures use MicroSoft Word or another high-end program. For text-only NotePad or WordPad will do. Both of these have a limit as to the amount of text you can put in them, but I’ve never had a problem. WordPad can hold more than NotePad.
Open WordPad or NotePad or Word, click in the text window and press and hold the “V” key. Just as before, this is the standard way to Paste in the world of Windows. You have probably heard of Copy/Paste before. Your text should be ready to save now. I ALWAYS do an immediate save just for general purposes. Press Ctrl and hold, then press the “S” key. You guessed it…. this is the standard way to Save in the world of Windows. You should get a window asking for a name and place to store your new file. Make it an easily recognizable name and keep all your topics together. Now do a quick scan of your document (we treasure hunters work with documents not papers) and do any editing if needed. And resave often!
Now to make a permanent record of it, burn it to a CD. I highly recommend doing this as hard drives are known to fail losing your lifes work! It’s also easier to put in a safe deposit box, transport or send to me!
This is a short and easy way to get the text and stuff you need, even from email!
If anybodies interested, you can get stuff off of those sites that won’t let you get stuff. Here is an example taken off of a site that was mentioned in the original post “Ankle Deep”.
CENSURES, REGULATORS, MODERATOR OR LEGAL TYPES YOU HAVE MY PEMISSION TO DELETE THE FOLLOWING IF NEEDED AS IT IS AN ACTUAL ARTICLE FROM ANTHER SITE
Black Bart's Stagecoach Loot
During the 65-year history of the stagecoach, a fantastic amount of wealth was stolen from more than a thousand coaches running on more than daily schedules.
Finding the loot too cumbersome to carry, scurrying bandits buried their caches across the desolate wilderness of Utah, Wyoming, California, Montana, Arizona and Colorado, which ranks second in the number of recorded holdups by road agents. Since then, hundreds of treasure seekers have searched for these buried riches.
Before Charlie Smith came on the scene, stagecoach driving was not a dangerous profession. The stages were considered invulnerable. The specialization of stagecoach robbing began with Smith and he used Shasta, California, for his field.
On the morning of Nov. 8, 1851, the fog, which had been thickening for many days, was now moving like a gray wall. It fell on Shasta so heavily that it turned the blazing sun into a ball of blur. The stage had crept almost to a halt and both the driver and shotgun messenger cursed horribly at the depressing day. From the brush at the foothills of Middle Creek Crossing, a pious-appearing bandit sprang into their path like a panther. Pointing a sawed-off scatter gun, he announced, simply, "Throw down the box!"
This scene was repeated over and over again for 65 years until Dec. 5, 1916, when Ben Kuhi of Jarbridge, Nevada, threw down on F.M. Searcy, the driver of the Jarbridge-Rogerson Stage. The old man went for his Springfield and suffered the tragic consequences of resistance. Kuhi shot him and rolled his body off the knoll down the slope into the undisturbed tailings. That was history's last recorded stage holdup.
According to documented records of Wells Fargo, from Nov. 5, 1870 to Nov. 5, 1884, a scant period of 14 years, the total amount taken from the company by stage robbers, train robbers and burglars was estimated to be $415,312.55. Rewards paid for the arrest and conviction of said robbers and the percentage paid on treasure recovered was $73,451.
Of the scoundrels who suffered for their atrocities against the stage lines, 66 were gunned down either at the scenes or during the chase. Another 42 were legally hanged. Some 27 were strung-up by vigilantes.
From 1875 to 1883, 206 court cases of nailed robbers were documented. The money that has not been recovered is estimated to be around $6 million. "For every bandit caught, three escaped," Chief Detective James B. Hume reported.
According to the "Thacker-Hume Report," prepared by Hume and his assistant John N. Thacker, only a handful of these bandits amounted to any great shucks. Established as the the West's most desperate highwaymen were: Charles E. Bolton (best known as Black Bart), Rattlesnake Dick Barter, Juan Soto, Joaquin Murietta, Milton Sharp, Tiburcio Vasquez and Bill Brazelton.
During his career as a stagecoach robber, Black Bart successfully rifled 27 coaches. His field of operation extended as far north as the border of Oregon. He was an insignificant little man and, judging from his resonant voice, probably in his late 40's.
In a routine that followed all his stick-ups, he worked alone, ate alone and slept alone. Not much of a horsebacker, he even traveled alone, shotgun shucked under his armpit, flour sack over his shoulder. Sometimes he set up protruding broomsticks on a nearby promontory to give his victims the impressions he had a band of outlaws with him.
A gadabout highwayman, Bart had a peculiar sense of humor. He was in the habit of leaving bits of self-composed poetry in the consignment boxes of Wells Fargo after he emptied them:
"'Here I lay me down to sleep to wait the coming morrow
Perhaps success, perhaps defeat and everlasting sorrow
Let come what will I try it on my condition can't be worse
And if there's money in that box tis muney in my purse."
And life ran along like that from 1875 to 1883, without Black Bart ever having to fire a single shot.
After the holdup of the stage rolling over the mountainous terrain between Duncan's Mills on the Russian River and Point Arena, on Aug. 3,1877, Black Bart became known as "The P08" bandit. The sheriff of Ukiah arrived on the scene and found the ax-chopped open box in the hedgegrowths. It was empty, save a discarded waybill. On the back was a scrawled message:
"I've labored long and hard for bread
For honor and for riches
But on my toes too long you've tread
You fine-haired sons of bitches."
It was signed "Black Bart, The P08." To the most unschooled road agent, it was obvious that "P08" was Bart's puckish way of spelling poet and the way he had intentionally misspelled money was additional confirmation of his puckishness.
"The P08" operated mainly on the Mother Lode. His plans were always technically thought out in advance. He never robbed near home and never boasted or bragged about his accomplishments. Well dressed, almost dapper, he was also poised, articulate and a thoughtful student of what he did for a living. Actually, he considered himself a successful businessman, rather than a highway robber.
When working, he appeared to be a menacing figure in his light-colored linen duster and flour-sack with peep holes over his head. Even James Hume, Wells Fargo's ace detective, grudgingly entertained admiration for the singular stage robber. "I doubt if anyone ever came close to achieving what Bolton did in the entire history of the West," he said.
Black Bart's career ended at his 28th holdup. It took scores of lawmen and Wells Fargo detectives eight years to collar him - and then only by accident. Ironically, that chance happened at the very spot where he had pulled off his first heist on July 26, 1875, when the Sonora-Milton stage was held up and the treasure chest taken by a lone bandit stepping out of his concealment with a crude looking musket. This time, on Nov. 3, 1883, Black Bart's career ended disastrously at Reynolds Ferry.
Aways a strategist, Black Bart learned that a lofty amount of amalgam and gold dust would be picked up by the Nevada Stage Company's Sonora-Milton run and delivered to the California Navigation Company at Stockton to be forwarded downstream to the Wells Fargo office in San Francisco.
This knowledge at hand, he cut across the hills to Angel's camp, purchased a bag full of groceries and wrote poetry while waiting for the Sonora stage bound for Milton. On board: $550 in gold and 228 ounces of amalgam from the Patterson mine, worth $4,350.
There were no passengers aboard, just the stage driver, Reason McConnell, and a shavetail named Jimmy Rolleri. Rolleri was a backcountry lad who had bummed a ride back at the hotel stop at Reynold's Ferry. As they neared Copperopolis, McConnell sighed in relief and saw no harm in Jimmy's request to do a little hunting. As Jimmy traipsed into the dense brush after a deer, McConnell noticed a strange figure silhouetted high above on the mesa. He wore a long linen duster, a sack covered his face, and he had a shotgun pointed in the direction of the coach.
Holding McConnell at bay with his shotgun, the robber began hacking away at the stubborn strongbox with an ax. Jimmy came out of the bush and McConnell signaled him. The quickwitted boy leveled his rifle and fired. The projectile whistled past the startled robber's head and ricocheted off a sturdy boulder. The unnerved bandit scurried into the underbrush. Retrieving his rifle, McConnell fired blindly into the thicket.
Upon investigation, the two gropers noticed blood. Black Bart had been hit! A few hours later McConnell repeated his story to Wells Fargo detective John Thacker and special detective Harry Morse. The lawmen galloped to the scene.
In the nearby hills, they found a handkerchief dangling on a twig. Tell-tale laundry markings read "FXo7." Harry Morse visited 92 laundries before his research paid off: "Yes," the proprietor said, "that handkerchief belongs to C.E. Bolton, a mining man."
Arrested and taken to Calaveras County Jail, Bolton was grilled until he finally confessed to his crimes against the Wells Fargo Company. Estimates of his thievery range from $5,000 to $50,000 - not much when you consider he ran amuck for eight years. But then, by the time Bart appeared on the scene, the magnanimous gold shipments of the 1860's were history.
Charles E. Bolton, now 48, received a sentence of six years in San Quentin. He entered the grim prison on Nov. 21, 1883, as convict No. 11046 and was released Jan. 21, 1888. He traveled about in his final years, visiting Alaska, Mexico and Japan. He tried to return to the scene of his buried loot, but gave up when he noticed Wells Fargo agents shadowing him. He died in New York, the place of his birth, in 1917. While cleaning up his room for the next tenant, his landlady found a poem tucked in a magazine. It read:
"I rob the rich to feed the poor
Which hardly is a sin
A widow ne're knocked at my door
But what I let her in.
So blame me not for what I've done
I don't deserve your curses
And if for any cause I'm hung
Let it be for my verses!"
In 1963, $500, believed to be part of Black Bart's swag, was discovered by picnickers near the Shasta County line, 11 miles from Yreka, where the linen-hooded robber held up a stage in 1882. A newspaper article years later reported the finding of an ax. Inscribed on the handle was "P08."
A vast number of such hidden caches await discovery, hidden by brigands in a bygone era when sacks of coins, gold or silver ingots, chests of precious jewels and hoards of valuable heirlooms were not as transportable by horseback as they would be today by automobile.
Barter reportedly filched over $100,000 from 1852 to 1856. Wells Fargo statistics credit road agents with recovering $35,000 of it, which means another $40,000 still lies buried somewhere in the acreage between Iron Mountain and Sugarloaf Peak along the sunblasted old Shasta-Yreka mule-train trail. The remaining $25,000 was said to be split among Barter and his compadres.
Somewhere near Elk Creek in Park County, Colorado, there is $50,000 in currency and drafts secreted in oiled-silk cloth along with three containers of gold dust taken during a stagecoach robbery.
The Reynolds brothers, Jim and John, pursued by Federal troops and miners, buried their cache and planned to return for it when things cooled off. They covered it with detritus and tree branches and identified the spot by wedging a knife into a giant oak.
In 1864, the Reynolds gang, numbering 10 or more, swooped down on a Mexican wagon train along the Santa Fe Trail in Texas. They pillaged $40,000 in currency, $7,000 in drafts, 2,000 silver dollars, guns, ammo and mules. They buried the heavy money and other property too weighty to haul on the banks of the Cimarron River, with the intention of coming back for that part of the spoils later on.
A posse, led by Lt. George Shoup, Co. A of the Third Colorado Cavalry, chased the bandits high into the altitudes overlooking the Arkansas River near Cannon City. There was quite a shooting scrape and, when the acrid odor of pistol smoke had cleared, six of the desperadoes held hands high and Jim Reynolds had almost been torn in half by a shotgun blast. Miraculously, he survived. His brothers, John and Jake Stowe lost the pursuing posse navel-deep in the shrubwood of New Mexico. The prisoners were taken to Denver by U.S. Marshal A.C. Hunt where they were convicted and sentenced to life imprisonment.
Desperately wounded, Jim escaped and eventually found John and Jake Stowe. The three ex-guerrillas immediately set out to retrieve the cache they had buried on the banks of the Cimarron River. Their horses gave out and they stopped at a Mexican ranch to steal fresh mounts. The amount of promiscuous shooting was unprecedented. The lead-scarred brothers got away, but a gratuitous coup de grace from a Mexicano shotgun had blown off the top of Stowe's head. The brothers recovered a great deal of the money and lit out for Texas.
In time, Jim died of his wounds and John changed his name and roamed the southwest as a gambler. In October 1871, he figured it was safe to dig up the treasure hidden in the altitudes of the Colorado Rockies. He enlisted the help of another desperado, Ad Brown. Along the way they tried to steal fresh horses in Taos, New Mexico.
There was a shootout and John was mortally wounded. When he realized he was near the end of his profligate existence, he drew a sketchy map for Brown, describing the precise site of the hoard. Having no pencil, he did this by mixing gunpowder and water (the map was recorded in the diary of Palmdale, California, Sheriff Frank Dowler).
Brown picked up a saddle pard and together they followed the map, but a forest fire had changed the scene completely. They searched for days without results. It's still up there, waiting for a prospector to pinpoint the location, dig away the dirt and raise a king's ransom in stagecoach loot.
Juan Soto was a psychotic killer who operated in the vicinity of Santa Clara County, California, until Sheriff Harry Morse's gun put a hole in his head on March 1, 1871. Together with Tiburcio Vasquez, Jose Chavez and a gang of cutthroats made a number of forays, robbing stages, country stores and waylaying travelers on lonely roads. Morse wrote in his memoirs that between mid-March and mid-December, he and his men chased the gang for some 5,000 miles without even coming close.
The gang hit the general store at Firebaugh's Ferry, a short breath up the San Joaquin River. They made off with a sizable amount of valuables and money. On Aug. 26, they hit the store at Tres Pinos, adjacent to Hollister, where three citizens were shot down. Again, they escaped with saddlebags bulging with currency. An $8,000 reward was posted for the apprehension of the outlaws.
It was obvious that Vasquez knew Morse was hot on his trail, so he buried his cache wherever he fancied. Much of it in the Cahuenga Hills inside the Los Angeles County line. During the weeks of his incarceration, and up to the time he was hanged, Vasquez stubbornly refused to tell where any of his hidden treasures might be. It is estimated that searchers have missed $200,000.
There is a buried treasure somewhere north of Plymouth, Illinois, which is located in the central part of the state near the Mississippi River.
According to legend, a stagecoach was attacked and the cash box buried during the siege. A group of treasure hunters brought horses and plows up from Quincy and tried to plow up the box, but failed. In a museum at Springfield, Illinois, there is a poster offering a reward for the robbers of the Plymouth stage.
While looking for this cache you may also want to probe for $4 million in gold coins the Mormons reputedly buried near Nauvoo, Illinois, before rioters burned down the Mormon temple and expelled all church members from the community around 1846.
Outlaw-Sheriff Henry Plummer's statement before Montana vigilantes hanged him at Bannack, Jan. 10, 1864, that he had buried $300,000 of stagecoach loot in a Sun River Valley cabin within sight of Haystack Butte, has sent many a treasure seeker scurrying into this rugged terrain. Curiously, nothing but one failure after another has dogged them.
None had a more adventurous career than Joaquin Murietta - John Rollin Ridge's mythical "Robin Hood of the Plains." No other desperado in history has placed more chests of gold into underground depositories. Reportedly, he had buried over $250,000, mostly stagecoach swag, before being decapitated by Bill Henderson in 1853.
In the summer of 1946, a vacationing El Pasco student, Edward Aronow, uncovered $53,000 in gold nuggets while moseying around the rugged Carrizo Hills area of San Diego County.
The nuggets were in three separate caches, buried adjacent to one another. The sacks had rotted completely. It is commonly believed that this is only one of Murietta's hoards buried in the Carrizo Hills and surrounding San Luis Rey Mission, a favorite site for treasure hunters.
Black Bart's Stage Loot
The treasure:
More than $6 million in gold and valuables robbed from stagecoaches in the 19th century remains to be found.
How to find it:
1. Black Bart often buried his treasure near the site of the stage holdup. For information on these holdup sites, contact Wells Fargo Bank, San Francisco, California.
2. Some likely treasure caches should be found on the Shasta-to-Yreka trail in California, near Elk Creek in Park County, Colorado, along the Santa Fe trail in Texas, near Taos, New Mexico, and in the Cahuenga Hills, inside the Los Angeles County line, In other words, there are hundreds of likely stagecoach caches west of the Mississippi River.
Sources:
Henry Wells, Truly Yours, Henry Wells (Wells College press, 1954); Newspaper files of several Nevada and California towns in the Nevada State Library; The Express Gazette (1882-1921); Frank Lesile's Illustrated Newspaper, Wells Fargo messenger (1912-1918); The Wells Fargo Bank and Union Trust Company of San Francisco; Catherine Haroun of the Wells Fargo Bank Museum, San Francisco, who provided files, records, photgraphic dossiers and original manuscripts; Major Gordon Sampson of the Virginia & Truckee Railroad; and The Nevada State Historical Society at Reno.
One person used a digital camera, took a picture, then probably printed it out and stuck it in a three ring binder. It works. Picture quality depends on photographer, camera, lights and other factors. Small details may be blurred or even missed.
Another took a screen-shot. A screen-shot gives excellent quality but what if you have a large page to copy? Two or even three screenshots to mess with? How do you merge them into one document? After your screen-shot where do you find them? What process is used to convert them from a picture (.jpg, .bmp, .gif) to text to save disk space? How do you store them?
These two methods are great. But with my ever expanding book collection, I don’t want to deal with another unorganized folder or binder.
You can do a File/SaveAs/Webpage type save but you get all the “accessories” associated with a web page.
The way I do it is fairly simple, gets rid of all the excess junk (ads, links, or hype) listed along the edges of the text and pictures you need. It is also already in text and picture format ready to use in any standard word processor available! Links are kept as links in the more powerful programs or converted to text in the lesser ones (like Notepad). The converted links can still be Copy/Pasted into your browser and used though.
Here is my method:
Find an article you like, go to the bottom of it, right-click and HOLD (highlighting the text, usually in blue) as you drag the mouse upward to the top. Release the mouse button. This should leave the text highlighted. Top to bottom works also but I find that I tend to over shoot the bottom and pick up excess garbage, and if you’ve already read the article, you’re at the bottom anyway.
Next, being sure the text is highlighted, press and hold the Ctrl (Control) key, then press the “C” key. This is the standard way to Copy in the world of Windows. Your text is now on the “Clipboard” (actually in memory) ready to be pasted in your word processor. If it contains pictures use MicroSoft Word or another high-end program. For text-only NotePad or WordPad will do. Both of these have a limit as to the amount of text you can put in them, but I’ve never had a problem. WordPad can hold more than NotePad.
Open WordPad or NotePad or Word, click in the text window and press and hold the “V” key. Just as before, this is the standard way to Paste in the world of Windows. You have probably heard of Copy/Paste before. Your text should be ready to save now. I ALWAYS do an immediate save just for general purposes. Press Ctrl and hold, then press the “S” key. You guessed it…. this is the standard way to Save in the world of Windows. You should get a window asking for a name and place to store your new file. Make it an easily recognizable name and keep all your topics together. Now do a quick scan of your document (we treasure hunters work with documents not papers) and do any editing if needed. And resave often!
Now to make a permanent record of it, burn it to a CD. I highly recommend doing this as hard drives are known to fail losing your lifes work! It’s also easier to put in a safe deposit box, transport or send to me!
This is a short and easy way to get the text and stuff you need, even from email!
If anybodies interested, you can get stuff off of those sites that won’t let you get stuff. Here is an example taken off of a site that was mentioned in the original post “Ankle Deep”.
CENSURES, REGULATORS, MODERATOR OR LEGAL TYPES YOU HAVE MY PEMISSION TO DELETE THE FOLLOWING IF NEEDED AS IT IS AN ACTUAL ARTICLE FROM ANTHER SITE
Black Bart's Stagecoach Loot
During the 65-year history of the stagecoach, a fantastic amount of wealth was stolen from more than a thousand coaches running on more than daily schedules.
Finding the loot too cumbersome to carry, scurrying bandits buried their caches across the desolate wilderness of Utah, Wyoming, California, Montana, Arizona and Colorado, which ranks second in the number of recorded holdups by road agents. Since then, hundreds of treasure seekers have searched for these buried riches.
Before Charlie Smith came on the scene, stagecoach driving was not a dangerous profession. The stages were considered invulnerable. The specialization of stagecoach robbing began with Smith and he used Shasta, California, for his field.
On the morning of Nov. 8, 1851, the fog, which had been thickening for many days, was now moving like a gray wall. It fell on Shasta so heavily that it turned the blazing sun into a ball of blur. The stage had crept almost to a halt and both the driver and shotgun messenger cursed horribly at the depressing day. From the brush at the foothills of Middle Creek Crossing, a pious-appearing bandit sprang into their path like a panther. Pointing a sawed-off scatter gun, he announced, simply, "Throw down the box!"
This scene was repeated over and over again for 65 years until Dec. 5, 1916, when Ben Kuhi of Jarbridge, Nevada, threw down on F.M. Searcy, the driver of the Jarbridge-Rogerson Stage. The old man went for his Springfield and suffered the tragic consequences of resistance. Kuhi shot him and rolled his body off the knoll down the slope into the undisturbed tailings. That was history's last recorded stage holdup.
According to documented records of Wells Fargo, from Nov. 5, 1870 to Nov. 5, 1884, a scant period of 14 years, the total amount taken from the company by stage robbers, train robbers and burglars was estimated to be $415,312.55. Rewards paid for the arrest and conviction of said robbers and the percentage paid on treasure recovered was $73,451.
Of the scoundrels who suffered for their atrocities against the stage lines, 66 were gunned down either at the scenes or during the chase. Another 42 were legally hanged. Some 27 were strung-up by vigilantes.
From 1875 to 1883, 206 court cases of nailed robbers were documented. The money that has not been recovered is estimated to be around $6 million. "For every bandit caught, three escaped," Chief Detective James B. Hume reported.
According to the "Thacker-Hume Report," prepared by Hume and his assistant John N. Thacker, only a handful of these bandits amounted to any great shucks. Established as the the West's most desperate highwaymen were: Charles E. Bolton (best known as Black Bart), Rattlesnake Dick Barter, Juan Soto, Joaquin Murietta, Milton Sharp, Tiburcio Vasquez and Bill Brazelton.
During his career as a stagecoach robber, Black Bart successfully rifled 27 coaches. His field of operation extended as far north as the border of Oregon. He was an insignificant little man and, judging from his resonant voice, probably in his late 40's.
In a routine that followed all his stick-ups, he worked alone, ate alone and slept alone. Not much of a horsebacker, he even traveled alone, shotgun shucked under his armpit, flour sack over his shoulder. Sometimes he set up protruding broomsticks on a nearby promontory to give his victims the impressions he had a band of outlaws with him.
A gadabout highwayman, Bart had a peculiar sense of humor. He was in the habit of leaving bits of self-composed poetry in the consignment boxes of Wells Fargo after he emptied them:
"'Here I lay me down to sleep to wait the coming morrow
Perhaps success, perhaps defeat and everlasting sorrow
Let come what will I try it on my condition can't be worse
And if there's money in that box tis muney in my purse."
And life ran along like that from 1875 to 1883, without Black Bart ever having to fire a single shot.
After the holdup of the stage rolling over the mountainous terrain between Duncan's Mills on the Russian River and Point Arena, on Aug. 3,1877, Black Bart became known as "The P08" bandit. The sheriff of Ukiah arrived on the scene and found the ax-chopped open box in the hedgegrowths. It was empty, save a discarded waybill. On the back was a scrawled message:
"I've labored long and hard for bread
For honor and for riches
But on my toes too long you've tread
You fine-haired sons of bitches."
It was signed "Black Bart, The P08." To the most unschooled road agent, it was obvious that "P08" was Bart's puckish way of spelling poet and the way he had intentionally misspelled money was additional confirmation of his puckishness.
"The P08" operated mainly on the Mother Lode. His plans were always technically thought out in advance. He never robbed near home and never boasted or bragged about his accomplishments. Well dressed, almost dapper, he was also poised, articulate and a thoughtful student of what he did for a living. Actually, he considered himself a successful businessman, rather than a highway robber.
When working, he appeared to be a menacing figure in his light-colored linen duster and flour-sack with peep holes over his head. Even James Hume, Wells Fargo's ace detective, grudgingly entertained admiration for the singular stage robber. "I doubt if anyone ever came close to achieving what Bolton did in the entire history of the West," he said.
Black Bart's career ended at his 28th holdup. It took scores of lawmen and Wells Fargo detectives eight years to collar him - and then only by accident. Ironically, that chance happened at the very spot where he had pulled off his first heist on July 26, 1875, when the Sonora-Milton stage was held up and the treasure chest taken by a lone bandit stepping out of his concealment with a crude looking musket. This time, on Nov. 3, 1883, Black Bart's career ended disastrously at Reynolds Ferry.
Aways a strategist, Black Bart learned that a lofty amount of amalgam and gold dust would be picked up by the Nevada Stage Company's Sonora-Milton run and delivered to the California Navigation Company at Stockton to be forwarded downstream to the Wells Fargo office in San Francisco.
This knowledge at hand, he cut across the hills to Angel's camp, purchased a bag full of groceries and wrote poetry while waiting for the Sonora stage bound for Milton. On board: $550 in gold and 228 ounces of amalgam from the Patterson mine, worth $4,350.
There were no passengers aboard, just the stage driver, Reason McConnell, and a shavetail named Jimmy Rolleri. Rolleri was a backcountry lad who had bummed a ride back at the hotel stop at Reynold's Ferry. As they neared Copperopolis, McConnell sighed in relief and saw no harm in Jimmy's request to do a little hunting. As Jimmy traipsed into the dense brush after a deer, McConnell noticed a strange figure silhouetted high above on the mesa. He wore a long linen duster, a sack covered his face, and he had a shotgun pointed in the direction of the coach.
Holding McConnell at bay with his shotgun, the robber began hacking away at the stubborn strongbox with an ax. Jimmy came out of the bush and McConnell signaled him. The quickwitted boy leveled his rifle and fired. The projectile whistled past the startled robber's head and ricocheted off a sturdy boulder. The unnerved bandit scurried into the underbrush. Retrieving his rifle, McConnell fired blindly into the thicket.
Upon investigation, the two gropers noticed blood. Black Bart had been hit! A few hours later McConnell repeated his story to Wells Fargo detective John Thacker and special detective Harry Morse. The lawmen galloped to the scene.
In the nearby hills, they found a handkerchief dangling on a twig. Tell-tale laundry markings read "FXo7." Harry Morse visited 92 laundries before his research paid off: "Yes," the proprietor said, "that handkerchief belongs to C.E. Bolton, a mining man."
Arrested and taken to Calaveras County Jail, Bolton was grilled until he finally confessed to his crimes against the Wells Fargo Company. Estimates of his thievery range from $5,000 to $50,000 - not much when you consider he ran amuck for eight years. But then, by the time Bart appeared on the scene, the magnanimous gold shipments of the 1860's were history.
Charles E. Bolton, now 48, received a sentence of six years in San Quentin. He entered the grim prison on Nov. 21, 1883, as convict No. 11046 and was released Jan. 21, 1888. He traveled about in his final years, visiting Alaska, Mexico and Japan. He tried to return to the scene of his buried loot, but gave up when he noticed Wells Fargo agents shadowing him. He died in New York, the place of his birth, in 1917. While cleaning up his room for the next tenant, his landlady found a poem tucked in a magazine. It read:
"I rob the rich to feed the poor
Which hardly is a sin
A widow ne're knocked at my door
But what I let her in.
So blame me not for what I've done
I don't deserve your curses
And if for any cause I'm hung
Let it be for my verses!"
In 1963, $500, believed to be part of Black Bart's swag, was discovered by picnickers near the Shasta County line, 11 miles from Yreka, where the linen-hooded robber held up a stage in 1882. A newspaper article years later reported the finding of an ax. Inscribed on the handle was "P08."
A vast number of such hidden caches await discovery, hidden by brigands in a bygone era when sacks of coins, gold or silver ingots, chests of precious jewels and hoards of valuable heirlooms were not as transportable by horseback as they would be today by automobile.
Barter reportedly filched over $100,000 from 1852 to 1856. Wells Fargo statistics credit road agents with recovering $35,000 of it, which means another $40,000 still lies buried somewhere in the acreage between Iron Mountain and Sugarloaf Peak along the sunblasted old Shasta-Yreka mule-train trail. The remaining $25,000 was said to be split among Barter and his compadres.
Somewhere near Elk Creek in Park County, Colorado, there is $50,000 in currency and drafts secreted in oiled-silk cloth along with three containers of gold dust taken during a stagecoach robbery.
The Reynolds brothers, Jim and John, pursued by Federal troops and miners, buried their cache and planned to return for it when things cooled off. They covered it with detritus and tree branches and identified the spot by wedging a knife into a giant oak.
In 1864, the Reynolds gang, numbering 10 or more, swooped down on a Mexican wagon train along the Santa Fe Trail in Texas. They pillaged $40,000 in currency, $7,000 in drafts, 2,000 silver dollars, guns, ammo and mules. They buried the heavy money and other property too weighty to haul on the banks of the Cimarron River, with the intention of coming back for that part of the spoils later on.
A posse, led by Lt. George Shoup, Co. A of the Third Colorado Cavalry, chased the bandits high into the altitudes overlooking the Arkansas River near Cannon City. There was quite a shooting scrape and, when the acrid odor of pistol smoke had cleared, six of the desperadoes held hands high and Jim Reynolds had almost been torn in half by a shotgun blast. Miraculously, he survived. His brothers, John and Jake Stowe lost the pursuing posse navel-deep in the shrubwood of New Mexico. The prisoners were taken to Denver by U.S. Marshal A.C. Hunt where they were convicted and sentenced to life imprisonment.
Desperately wounded, Jim escaped and eventually found John and Jake Stowe. The three ex-guerrillas immediately set out to retrieve the cache they had buried on the banks of the Cimarron River. Their horses gave out and they stopped at a Mexican ranch to steal fresh mounts. The amount of promiscuous shooting was unprecedented. The lead-scarred brothers got away, but a gratuitous coup de grace from a Mexicano shotgun had blown off the top of Stowe's head. The brothers recovered a great deal of the money and lit out for Texas.
In time, Jim died of his wounds and John changed his name and roamed the southwest as a gambler. In October 1871, he figured it was safe to dig up the treasure hidden in the altitudes of the Colorado Rockies. He enlisted the help of another desperado, Ad Brown. Along the way they tried to steal fresh horses in Taos, New Mexico.
There was a shootout and John was mortally wounded. When he realized he was near the end of his profligate existence, he drew a sketchy map for Brown, describing the precise site of the hoard. Having no pencil, he did this by mixing gunpowder and water (the map was recorded in the diary of Palmdale, California, Sheriff Frank Dowler).
Brown picked up a saddle pard and together they followed the map, but a forest fire had changed the scene completely. They searched for days without results. It's still up there, waiting for a prospector to pinpoint the location, dig away the dirt and raise a king's ransom in stagecoach loot.
Juan Soto was a psychotic killer who operated in the vicinity of Santa Clara County, California, until Sheriff Harry Morse's gun put a hole in his head on March 1, 1871. Together with Tiburcio Vasquez, Jose Chavez and a gang of cutthroats made a number of forays, robbing stages, country stores and waylaying travelers on lonely roads. Morse wrote in his memoirs that between mid-March and mid-December, he and his men chased the gang for some 5,000 miles without even coming close.
The gang hit the general store at Firebaugh's Ferry, a short breath up the San Joaquin River. They made off with a sizable amount of valuables and money. On Aug. 26, they hit the store at Tres Pinos, adjacent to Hollister, where three citizens were shot down. Again, they escaped with saddlebags bulging with currency. An $8,000 reward was posted for the apprehension of the outlaws.
It was obvious that Vasquez knew Morse was hot on his trail, so he buried his cache wherever he fancied. Much of it in the Cahuenga Hills inside the Los Angeles County line. During the weeks of his incarceration, and up to the time he was hanged, Vasquez stubbornly refused to tell where any of his hidden treasures might be. It is estimated that searchers have missed $200,000.
There is a buried treasure somewhere north of Plymouth, Illinois, which is located in the central part of the state near the Mississippi River.
According to legend, a stagecoach was attacked and the cash box buried during the siege. A group of treasure hunters brought horses and plows up from Quincy and tried to plow up the box, but failed. In a museum at Springfield, Illinois, there is a poster offering a reward for the robbers of the Plymouth stage.
While looking for this cache you may also want to probe for $4 million in gold coins the Mormons reputedly buried near Nauvoo, Illinois, before rioters burned down the Mormon temple and expelled all church members from the community around 1846.
Outlaw-Sheriff Henry Plummer's statement before Montana vigilantes hanged him at Bannack, Jan. 10, 1864, that he had buried $300,000 of stagecoach loot in a Sun River Valley cabin within sight of Haystack Butte, has sent many a treasure seeker scurrying into this rugged terrain. Curiously, nothing but one failure after another has dogged them.
None had a more adventurous career than Joaquin Murietta - John Rollin Ridge's mythical "Robin Hood of the Plains." No other desperado in history has placed more chests of gold into underground depositories. Reportedly, he had buried over $250,000, mostly stagecoach swag, before being decapitated by Bill Henderson in 1853.
In the summer of 1946, a vacationing El Pasco student, Edward Aronow, uncovered $53,000 in gold nuggets while moseying around the rugged Carrizo Hills area of San Diego County.
The nuggets were in three separate caches, buried adjacent to one another. The sacks had rotted completely. It is commonly believed that this is only one of Murietta's hoards buried in the Carrizo Hills and surrounding San Luis Rey Mission, a favorite site for treasure hunters.
Black Bart's Stage Loot
The treasure:
More than $6 million in gold and valuables robbed from stagecoaches in the 19th century remains to be found.
How to find it:
1. Black Bart often buried his treasure near the site of the stage holdup. For information on these holdup sites, contact Wells Fargo Bank, San Francisco, California.
2. Some likely treasure caches should be found on the Shasta-to-Yreka trail in California, near Elk Creek in Park County, Colorado, along the Santa Fe trail in Texas, near Taos, New Mexico, and in the Cahuenga Hills, inside the Los Angeles County line, In other words, there are hundreds of likely stagecoach caches west of the Mississippi River.
Sources:
Henry Wells, Truly Yours, Henry Wells (Wells College press, 1954); Newspaper files of several Nevada and California towns in the Nevada State Library; The Express Gazette (1882-1921); Frank Lesile's Illustrated Newspaper, Wells Fargo messenger (1912-1918); The Wells Fargo Bank and Union Trust Company of San Francisco; Catherine Haroun of the Wells Fargo Bank Museum, San Francisco, who provided files, records, photgraphic dossiers and original manuscripts; Major Gordon Sampson of the Virginia & Truckee Railroad; and The Nevada State Historical Society at Reno.
