A Pioneer Story and the Lost Blue Bucket Mine
By the Federal Writer’s Project in 1938
The American West is rich with tales of intrepid pioneers, hidden treasures, and the enduring allure of gold. Among the most captivating of these narratives is the legend of the Lost Blue Bucket Mine, a story that has tantalized prospectors and historians alike for generations. This article delves into the recollections of Captain W. H. Hembree, a man whose life was deeply intertwined with the pioneering spirit of Oregon and his insights into the enduring mystery of the Lost Blue Bucket Mine.
In the spring of 1938, Andrew C. Sherbert, a representative of the Federal Writer’s Project, sought out Captain W. H. Hembree for an interview. The Federal Writer’s Project, a New Deal initiative, aimed to document the diverse experiences and oral histories of Americans during the Great Depression. Sherbert’s mission was to capture Hembree’s knowledge of Oregon’s pioneering days, particularly anything he might know about the fabled Lost Blue Bucket Mine.
At 73 years old, Captain Hembree was described as a short, stocky, and exceptionally rugged man. Despite his age, he possessed a vitality that hinted at a life spent outdoors, facing the challenges of the frontier. Sherbert noted Hembree’s expertise in gold recovery methods and his appearance, typical of a seasoned prospector, complete with ore samples and a magnifying lens tucked away in his pocket. This interview provides a unique window into the life of a man who lived through Oregon’s formative years and the enduring allure of the Lost Blue Bucket Mine.
Born on October 7, 1864, in Monmouth, Polk County, Oregon, William Harry Hembree’s life was deeply rooted in the pioneer experience. His father, Houston Hembree, was named after the legendary Sam Houston and hailed from Texas, later moving to Missouri. His mother, Amanda Bowman, was born in Iowa and arrived in Oregon in 1848. Houston Hembree journeyed to Oregon with one of the earliest emigrant trains of the 1840s, arriving in the Willamette Valley around 1843. This wagon train was said to be the first to successfully complete the entire journey from the East to The Dalles, marking a significant milestone in westward expansion.
Hembree recounted that his father’s wagon train experienced a relatively peaceful journey compared to those that followed in subsequent years. The Native American tribes, he said, were initially welcoming and did not pose a threat to the early emigrants. It wasn’t until later waves of settlers arrived in 1844, 1845, and beyond that tensions escalated, leading to attacks on travelers. Remarkably, Hembree’s father’s train arrived at The Dalles with the same number of individuals it had when it departed Missouri, a testament to their good fortune. During the journey, there was both a death and a birth, occurring simultaneously at a place now known as Liberty Rock, Idaho. The deceased was a second cousin of Hembree’s, while the newborn was his aunt, Nancy Hembree.
Despite the gold rushes, land grants, and burgeoning development that swept through Oregon following his father’s arrival, fortune had not yet smiled upon the Hembree family when young William entered the world a decade later. When asked about his childhood, Hembree candidly stated that it was devoid of the games and leisure typically associated with youth. Instead, his early years were defined by relentless work, beginning long before sunrise and continuing well after sunset. By the age of eight, he was already engaged in labor that would have commanded a man’s wages in later years. Concepts such as union working hours and sit-down strikes were unimaginable in that era.
Hembree described how his father and older brothers crafted shingles by hand, utilizing a tool called a "frow." This tool, a wedge-shaped cleaver with a sharp edge and a handle set at right angles, was used to split cedar bolts along the grain, creating durable shingles. Only the finest, straight-grained cedar was selected for this purpose. Hembree proudly asserted that the shingles produced by his family were of such quality that they likely outlasted their modern counterparts, lasting far beyond the typical ten-year lifespan of manufactured shingles.
Even at the young age of eight, Hembree contributed to the family’s shingle-making operation. His task was to gather the accumulating shavings and bundle the finished shingles. This was no easy feat for a small child, as his father and brothers worked tirelessly, producing a considerable number of shingles each day. The piles of shavings grew rapidly, requiring constant attention. The work often extended into the evening, with the burning piles of shavings providing light for the family to continue their labor. It was common for them to work 14 to 16 hours a day, leaving Hembree exhausted but satisfied at the end of each shift.
Hembree continued to assist his family in riving shingles until he reached the age of 12 or 13, at which point he began working for others. In those days, boys were expected to mature quickly and assume adult responsibilities at a young age. By 15, he was riding the range, and by 17, he had traveled extensively throughout the plains of central and eastern Oregon.
Hembree emphasized the importance of Sunday as a day of rest, a welcome respite from the daily grind. While his family may not have been overtly religious, they, like most families of the time, held some form of faith. God seemed closer and more present in their lives, with evidence of His power and presence visible in the natural world. Hembree lamented that this sense of religious consciousness seemed to have diminished in later years.
The Hembree family’s home was typical of a pioneer Oregon homestead. His mother spun yarn on a spinning wheel, creating the fabric that would eventually become their clothing. Their work clothes, shirts, and pants were typically made of home-tanned buckskin, a durable but less aesthetically pleasing material. When a man could afford it, he would invest in a "Sunday-go-to-meeting" outfit, consisting of a swallow-tail coat, a fancy vest, striped pants, and a beaver hat, representing the height of formal attire.
After years of wandering throughout Oregon, Hembree found employment with Portland’s "Paid" fire department, which consisted of both paid and volunteer firefighters. He served with distinction for three years before embarking on a seafaring adventure. He enjoyed the life of a sailor and visited numerous foreign ports. However, he eventually returned to Portland and rejoined the fire department, where he served for several more years. He left the fire department for good due to political infighting and later worked on riverboats, earning the honorary title of "Captain."
Alongside his other pursuits, Hembree maintained a lifelong interest in gold mining. For over 50 years, he prospected in various parts of Oregon, panning rivers and creeks in search of worthwhile findings. In recent years, he had operated small mines with varying degrees of success. At the time of the interview, he was beginning work on a mine in Clackamas County, expressing optimism despite previous disappointments. He embodied the unwavering optimism of a true prospector, always ready to pursue the next promising opportunity.
Hembree then turned his attention to the Lost Blue Bucket Mine, perhaps the most widely publicized gold mine in Oregon, if it ever existed. Despite being erroneously credited with extensive knowledge of the mine, Hembree clarified that he, like many others, had a deep interest in the legendary mine. He had collected a considerable amount of information and traveled to the region where it was believed to be located. He even felt confident that he had come within a short distance of the actual location. However, until the mine was definitively rediscovered, he acknowledged that his story was no more definitive than anyone else’s.
Hembree explained the origin of the mine’s name, relating the story of a wagon train whose wagons were painted blue. These wagons used linch pins to secure the wheels, requiring constant lubrication with tar. The tar was carried in blue buckets hung on the rear of the wagons. According to legend, the train made a "dry camp" in a valley. While searching for water, one of the travelers used a blue tar bucket to dig in a promising spot, only to discover the bucket filled with gold nuggets. This serendipitous discovery led to the naming of the Lost Blue Bucket Mine.
Hembree recounted that he had once seen a diary purportedly written by a man named Warren, a member of the "Blue Bucket" wagon train. The diary documented the train’s daily progress, and through calculations based on the mileages and directions provided, Hembree believed he had pinpointed the mine’s approximate location. Further solidifying his belief, he stumbled upon a weathered piece of a wagon box with traces of blue paint, confirming its origin from the wagon train era. The wagon box was built like a flatboat and caulked with rags, further supporting its historical authenticity.
Hembree concluded his account by acknowledging the skepticism surrounding the existence of the Lost Blue Bucket Mine. While he believed it to be real, he recognized that his story would be more convincing if he could produce tangible evidence in the form of gold. His tale encapsulates the enduring allure of lost treasures and the relentless pursuit of fortune that defined the American West.