Ben Taylor was present when Lola Montez horsewhipped Henry Shibley, editor of the Grass Valley National, for what she considered derogatory reflections on herself, published in his paper.  It can readily be understood that Grass Valley was at that time a place of importance, when Lola Montez considered it worth while to stay there several years and sing and dance for the miners.

In parting, Ben Taylor told me pathetically that his wife had died a few years before and he had never recovered from the blow; “I am merely marking time until the end comes,” he added.  Since his married daughter and family live with him, he is assured in his latter days of loving care and attention.

Chapter VI

E. W. Maslin and His Recollections of Pioneer Days In Grass Valley.  Origin of Our Mining Laws

To Mr. E. W. Maslin, of Alameda, of whom Ben Taylor said:  “He is like a brother to me,” I am indebted for information of much interest, bearing on the olden days and Grass Valley in particular.  Mr. Maslin came around the “Horn” to California, in the ship Herman, on May 7, 1853.  He arrived in Grass Valley and went to work as a miner the following morning.  He now holds, and has for years, the responsible position in the United States Custom House, San Francisco, of Deputy Naval Officer of the Port.  The clearing papers of every vessel that leaves San Francisco bear his signature.  Although in his eightieth year, his memory is as clear and his sense of humor as vivid as when, a youth of nineteen, he left for good, Maryland, his native state.  Few men in the San Francisco bay region are more widely known than he.  His ready wit, cheery laugh and fund of information — for he is extremely well-read — always insure for him an attentive and appreciative audience.

Speaking of Ben Taylor, he told me a characteristic incident, which being also typical of the men of ’49, I give, with his consent, as related.  When the White Pine excitement in 1869 started a rush of prospectors to Nevada, Mr. Maslin caught the fever with the rest.  In common with all who dug for gold, he had his ups and downs, the fat years and the lean ones; at the time, his fortunes being at a lew ebb, he joined the stampede.  Several years previous to his departure, without informing his wife, he had borrowed of Ben Taylor, three hundred dollars, secured by mortgage on his house in Grass Valley.  At White Pine he met with considerable success, and in a short time sent his wife five hundred dollars, telling her for the first time of the mortgage on their home and requesting her to go to Ben Taylor at once and pay him in full.  It so happened that Taylor had called on Mrs. Maslin for news of her husband, as she was reading this letter.  She immediately tendered him the check with the request that he would inform her to what the interest amounted.  “Why, Molly,” said Ben Taylor, “you surely ought to know me well enough to know I would never take any interest on that money!” When it is remembered that the legal rate of interest at that time was ten per cent, and that double that amount was not infrequently paid — Mr. Maslin, in fact, expecting to pay Taylor something like five hundred dollars — the attitude of the latter will be the better appreciated.