It’s always said that the folks who really made money in the California Gold Rush weren’t the lucky prospectors or the miners that followed, but the merchants who established a way to sell goods to both. This was true for the Fur Trade as well. The first rendezvous was held at Henry’s Fork Wyoming, which is on the very bottom of the state and the very top of Utah below it. It was the brain-child of William H. Ashley, who operated the first supply train to Henry’s Fork on the Green River to supply the trappers so they could remain in the mountains and keep sending him a steady supply of pelts.

The first rendezvous in 1825

The location here at Henry’s Fork was well advertised from mouth to mouth between the trappers of the area. Ashley states that 120 mountain men and Indians were at the rendezvous, with famous names such as Etienne Provost, Jedediah Smith, John Weber, William Sublette, Thomas Fitzpatrick, James Beckworth, David Jackson and a young Jim Bridger. For months or more, most of the trappers had not seen groceries such as sugar, coffee, tobacco or salt, not to mention gun powder or fish hooks.

Ashley usually paid $3.00 per pelt and sold tobacco for $3.00 per pound. Other goods that he brought were priced accordingly because it was a trade, not cash, transaction. Ashley sent most of the furs up to the Big Horn River, with 80 to 100 packs of beaver pelts arriving in St. Louis valued at $40,000 to $50,000. The average number of pelts in a pack was 32, so a lot of beaver started their way to someone’s hat that year.

The streams froze in the winter and made trapping difficult, so many of the mountain men wintered in warmer areas such as the Cache Valley of Utah. Jim Beckworth estimated that 600-700 men, including Indians, were at these winter quarters. When spring began, it was back to the trapping and the next rendezvous, which were carried on at various locations until the last one in 1840.

Because in just 15 years they had eliminated the beaver population in the west. I can only assume it took a little longer in the East just because there were fewer trappers in those days. The rendezvous eventually added whiskey to the mix and became huge social gatherings of not very social men with guns. While civilized folk didn’t cherish the tradition or want it too near their town, its lucrative practice would never have gone if the beaver hadn’t. 3 dollar pelt by pelt, up the Green River and down the Colorado River and over the Santa Fe River and finally through the Sacramento delta and then they were gone.

I try to imagine that last gathering, in 1840, when the bottom had already fallen out of the fur trade. The demand for beaver hats was gradually being replaced by a preference for silk, and this was happening at around the same time that the rivers were starting to be drained of beaver. The fur business must have gotten slimmer and slimmer in those last months. I’m guessing that whatever pelts were purchased weren’t sold up the river in St. Louis or anywhere else for that matter.

I wonder which came first. Did people stop buying beaver or was their no beaver left to buy?

The two events must have happened almost simultaneously. And no one stopped to think about the coincidence because there were new lands to explore and territories to grow into, once you got rid of those pesky redskins. And then gold was discovered and everyone forgot about the last gold they had eliminated and they moved west and complained about the drought.

End of chapter one.

______________________________________________________________________

I present tonight to the city council, so they can vote to approve the mural. It seems ancient history to me but they tell me it’s not official until they have voted to accept it. So here’s hoping they do tonight and I can move along to the next hurdle this weekend when the wildlife photographer wants to get some shots of Martinez children planting willow trees for Ranger Rick.

Save

Save