Discovery of the Stonewall Mine

The richest mine in the Julian area was the Stonewall Jackson in Cuyamaca Valley near Laguna Que se Seca. Unlike mines in the Julian District proper, where shifting rock masses and earthquake faults broke the quartz veins into disjointed segments, the Stonewall was a large and continuous ore body. The mine was worked intermittently from 1870 until 1893 when water in the lower shafts made further digging impractical.

There are at least four conflicting accounts of the Stonewall's discovery. Most commonly accepted is the version that credits William Skidmore, who pastured mules in the meadows hereabouts. Skidmore is said to have been chasing down a stray mule that cagily kept just twenty feet ahead of her pursuer, leading him on until finally he plunked himself down in frustration on a rock which, upon examination, turned out to be gold quartz.

Mules seem to have quite a knack for locating rich strikes, and in another discovery story that ran current for awhile, Fred Coleman desired his animal to negotiate a certain rocky outcrop in the region. The mule held an opposite opinion on the subject and during the resulting dispute kicked loose a piece of rock from the ledge, revealing the gold. The former slave's reason for naming his claim after a Confederate general is left unexplained.

A third version, the one reported by San Diego newspapers at the time, credits Charles Hensley with the discovery. Yet a fourth story sets Charles' brother George and William Skidmore together as joint discoverers. Each of these versions generates its own permutations, making for a whole range of possibilities. The original mining claim has been lost, leaving the field wide open for speculation.

Ownership of the Stonewall was hotly disputed during the first few months of operation. Apparently, many of the original claimants were under the impression that all they need do to ensure ownership was display their names prominently on a post near the mine.

Something of a free-for-all ensued once the mine proved to be a producer. Folks who thought they'd staked a claim along the ledge would find their names removed and others put in their place.

Meanwhile all of Julian was engaged in a legal battle over the Cuyamaca Rancho land grant, in which the Stonewall was located. By 1872, control of the mine had been consolidated in the hands of one A. P. Frary and one J. M. Farley.

Frary supervised operations and was able to continue mining throughout the litigation by taking advantage of internal disputes among the grant owners. Whenever one party wanted him off, he'd simply go to someone else who would tell him to stay.

Management of the Stonewall had an ongoing problem with fights breaking out in the evenings between the Irish and the German miners. These boardinghouse brawls usually left the room a shambles and a number of miners unfit for work the next day.

Someone suggested that the fighting arose out of boredom, and if the miners only had some more wholesome activities such as books or checkers to occupy their time, they wouldn't spend it clubbing each other. It was worth a try.

The superintendent went shopping and returned with games, books, and as a special treat for the men, a phonograph with cylinder records. As luck would have it, however, he was not sufficiently careful in making his record selections. The first record that went on the machine turned out to be 'It takes the Irish to Beat the Dutch,' precipitating the worst fight ever.

Little remains today of Stonewall Mine and Cuyamaca City which grew up around it. Damming of the lake flooded the mine shafts, mining machinery was sold for scrap value, and the buildings were moved or dismantled for firewood. Black Oaks and Coulter pines return now to claim the land, their roots tangling amidst the mud and the memories of old disputes.

Robin Hewitt, 1989