You know what we haven’t seen enough of on this show?
Trespassers. Trespassers and inaccurately represented historical figures.
Luckily, this episode will remedy that, and also provide me with even more
opportunities to drone on about the history of silver mining in Nevada. Because
that’s the part you really come to
read about.
Also, for a fun change, we get to watch an episode that's
frequently criticized by fans of Bonanza
for being boring and terrible. Let’s find out why!
It’s an easy, soft-weathered day along the Ponderosa side of
Lake Tahoe. The sun is shining, the birds are fluttering, we’re looking at an
actual location shot next to a real lake instead of a painting, and everything
is pleasant. The Cartwrights ride up to the scenic vista, in good spirits but
tired. Adam lets us know that it’s hot work moving cattle into the high
country, and Hoss lets us know he’s super mega thirsty.
They all hop down to the shore and start drinking the nice,
clean water. Little Joe almost falls in, but Ben pulls him up in time.
“Careful, Little Joe!” Ben chuckles, “That’s the closest
you’ve come to taking a bath in months!”
First of all, that is disgusting. Second of all, if that’s
the case then Ben should push Joe in there and not let him come out until he’s
clean. Send one of the others home for soap and spare clothes.
Before they can follow my instructions, a shot whistles just above their heads and splashes in the distant water. They all stand up and whirl around to face the gunman, and find themselves looking at a crazy old prospector with a rifle that’s probably older than Ben.
The prospector tells them to get the hell off his land, and Little
Joe’s like: “Why don’t you get the
hell off our land?”
The prospector’s like: “I would totally do that if this were your land. But it’s mine, so get the hell off it.”
(Most dialogue recreations will be approximate during this
recap, since I don’t particularly want to watch this one three times.)
Ben’s too furious to keep a clear head, and that means it’s time for
Hoss to intervene and calmly ask why the old prospector thinks that a chunk of
the Ponderosa belongs to him. Did he get too much sun, or is he maybe confused
about directions? Compasses can be hard to read sometimes…
The prospector fires his rifle into the air.
“I know my rights!” He bellows, “And I’m allowed to shoot
trespassers on sight!”
Ben tries to explain, for the millionth time, that they are
not trespassers. The old prospector declares he
paid for the land fair and square. Everybody looks all confused and turns to Adam,
who’s in charge of that kind of thing, and Adam shakes his head. He’s never
seen this weirdo before in his life.
Apparently, the old prospector thinks he bought himself the whole Ponderosa for twenty-five dollars. He has a bill of sale, and he hands it
over to Ben. Ben looks it over, and finds that it’s signed by a man named Henry
T. P. Comstock, a well-known swindler and con man. Adam rolls his eyes, while
Little Joe decides to laugh at the misfortune of the man aiming a rifle at him,
because Little Joe is just like that.
The boys then begin casually reminiscing at gunpoint.
Yes, it turns out that Henry Comstock was quite a character.
Why, Hoss and Little Joe remember well the first time they ever met him…
The dreamy memory dissolve takes us to a time a couple of
years before, and a scene on a hilltop in front of a sunrise. It’s a horribly
fake sunrise, and the gnarled old elm tree from which a noose hangs looks like
it was made for a class play. Stuck with his head in the middle of the noose,
and seeming reasonably concerned, is an unshaven man in a black stovepipe hat.
He sits on top of a sad-eyed mule while a group of shiny, scary cowboys on
horses tell him that this tree’s seen a lot of action in the hanging
department.
His death is going to make it an even thirty since the start
of the year.
Our man in the Lincoln hat asks for permission to pray. The
shiny cowboys say yes, and through his prayer, he manages to convince them that
Hang Town – which is close by – is changing its name to Placerville and
revamping its image. Hanging is now illegal within the city limits, and those
limits reach a hundred miles to the Sierras.
The mob who’s caught him decide that it’s worth the trip.
They’ll drag him to the ends of the earth if they need to, in order to legally
murder him.
“Because, Mr. Henry T. P. Comstock,” the leader says,
“you’re about the most crookedest, slimiest, most double-dealing, weaseling,
lying, thieving, no-good claim jumper that ever hit the state of California!”
Comstock looks flattered to have merited so many adjectives,
as his captors free him from the noose and prepare to take him to the other
side of the mountains.
Over on the edge of the Ponderosa, morning has rolled in and
finds the Cartwrights chopping down a pine tree. In 1857 they didn’t have as
many men in their lumber camps, so they did more of it themselves. The tree
falls, and Little Joe – who is only seventeen during this flashback – moans
about how it took four hours to cut it down.
“That isn’t so long,” Ben huffs and puffs. “Not when it took
four hundred years for it to grow.”
Hoss looks around at all of the trees and marvels at how
many of them were already ancient by the time men started to immigrate to
America from Europe. Ben looks around with him and says that there are trees in
the Ponderosa forest that were a thousand years old when Christ was alive.
Ben’s right, trees are amazing.
Ben goes to get a pine sapling, and we get the “don’t cut
unless you plant” speech in brief. I don’t know if I’ve been drinking the
Cartwright Kool-Aid too long, or if this is just a well done pro-environmental
scene, but responsible forestry practices are important and I’m enjoying this.
Adam starts to plant the sapling, and Little Joe says:
“Well, little ponderosa, let’s see how you look in a couple of hundred years
when you’re a big ponderosa!”
They really need to explain human lifespans to him.
Anyway, the Cartwrights get to conversing while they pass around a
canteen. Hoss mentions that it took him three weeks to get to Salt Lake City to
file paperwork recently, and you might be wondering why he didn’t just hop over
to California like in most other episodes. At this point in time, Nevada wasn’t
Nevada yet. It was Western Utah, so it was easier to go to Salt Lake because
there wasn’t a border crossing.
Adam decides to be the weird one, and is all: “I’m going to
tell you about the future!” And he
makes space-hands, “What would you say if I told you that soon it will only
take two or three days to get to Salt Lake City?” Hoss is like: “Oh no! Is
there going to be an earthquake that physically changes the landscape?! Should
we move the cows?!”
But Little Joe calls Adam a lying liar who likes to tell
lies. Why would he pick such a stupid thing to tell a lie about?
“You’d be talkin’ about a railroad, son?” Ben asks. (The best
thing about Season One Ben, compared to season two and onward, is how bad he
is at grammar.)
“I’m talking about a railroad, Pa.” Adam nods.
“Dreams are a nice thing to have, but do you know what it
takes to build a railroad?”
About three hundred and fifty minimum wage workers, a ton of
iron spikes and rail, not much dynamite because you’d be going across
flatlands, a year and a half in terms of time, and five hundred and twenty-five
miles worth of lumber ties.
Adam just says “tracks.”
Ben’s kind of pissed off that Adam wants to cut down trees to
improve the world for everyone, but Adam explains that he’d plant new ones
every time. They’re about to have a speech-fight when a distant gunshot
captures everybody’s attention.
One of this episode’s problems is repetitive action: the
first scene is the Cartwrights hanging out in nature until a gunshot, the third
scene is the Cartwrights hanging out in nature until a gunshot.
They head over to investigate, and find Comstock narrowly
escaping the shiny, scary cowboys who are trying to hang him. On a nearby
ledge, the Cartwrights watch the pursuit. They debate whether or not they
should interfere, but ultimately decide that four men on horseback chasing one
dude on a mule isn’t fair ball. Besides, Little Joe reminds everybody that too
much gunplay and loud noises will “stir up the Paiutes.”
“The last time somebody stirred them up, three settlers paid
for it with their lives.” Ben nods gravely.
But wait, you might be thinking, are they talking about the
Paiutes we’ve met in previous episodes? The ones who are emphatically against
violent retaliation unless forced into conflict? Yes. Yes, they are. It’ll be
better for everyone if you stop expecting consistency or historical accuracy.
Ben decides that the best thing to do is to even up the odds
for the man on the mule. He and the boys take cover behind one of those
convenient rock-shields that are perfect for gunfights, and they start a fun
little round of “Who’s the Best Non-Lethal Shot?”
“Hey Hoss,” Little Joe scoffs, “Even with that Sharps
buffalo you’ve got, you don’t think you can hit a target at half a mile, do
you?”
Hoss shoots one of the shiny cowboy’s hats off. Just because
he’s the worst shot in the Cartwright family doesn’t mean he’s a bad shot. Adam asks to see Hoss’s
“squirrel gun” for a minute, because he’s a good-natured snob, and he takes aim
at the villains. (I wasn’t going to say anything, but I can’t stop myself from being a know-it-all – the Sharps
buffalo rifle wasn’t available until the 1870’s. The Cartwrights could easily
be using a different Sharps rifle in 1857, just not the buffalo. It doesn’t
matter, it has zero bearing on the plot.) Adam hits one of them right in the
canteen, and a stream of water runs out as the shiny cowboys begin to panic
about evil spirits.
Hoss lets Little Joe have a turn with his gun, and Joe
notices one of their targets trying to take aim in their direction, so he
gives that fool the Cartwright Special. For those of you who might be new,
that’s a crease or flesh wound in the shooting arm.
“That’s the kind of thing a New Orleans boys learns to do
just about the same time he learns to walk.” Little Joe gloats.
For the eight billionth time, Joe: You are not from New
Orleans. You have never been to New Orleans. You were born and raised in Nevada
and the furthest you have ever been from home is San Francisco.
Ben takes his turn shooting at the shiny cowboys, and they finally decide to
retreat. They vow to see Comstock hanged, but think they should come back on a
day when there are fewer sharp-shooting ghosts. It’s a sound tactical decision.
And it ends the sequence of everybody taking turns shooting, which is one of
the most entertaining incidents in the episode. Tragic.
Comstock rides over to thank the Cartwrights and starts
spouting malarkey. I think he’s trying to sound like an honest, homesick
country boy who’s been wounded by the cynical suspicions of the average
Westerner. He just sounds like he’s full of it. Which brings us to the next
problem with the writing, and that’s Comstock’s dialogue. The man goes on and
on and on (remembering that we are used to Ben speaking) and never says
anything important. It’s kind of going for this W.C. Fields of the West thing,
but it isn’t funny and, despite the more than serviceable performance from the always fun Jack
Carson, it doesn’t work in the character’s favour.
Anyway, Little Joe decides that Comstock is probably a claim
jumper being run out of California, and Comstock’s all: “Never mention that
state to me again!” Adam asks how many claims Comstock tried to jump, and
Comstock seems offended.
He says that if he’d ever jumped a claim, may god strike him
dead. Little Joe has a rifle slung over his shoulder, so he pulls the trigger
to let off a thunderous boom. Comstock freaks out and begs for more time before
he meets “the hellfire of retribution.”
Everybody laughs, because Comstock is clearly a shady
character of some kind. Nevertheless, Ben invites him to come up to the ranch
house and eat.
Why?
Why would you invite this man into your home, Ben?
Western manners traditionally dictated offering new friends a
meal; but this guy owes Ben a favor, not the other way around.
Later, during dinner, Comstock is raving about how awesome
the food is. Hoss is all: “Our cook, Hop Sing, is a genius!” Comstock decides
to compliment Hop Sing directly, and calls him an “honourable descendant of
Confucius.” Because this guy is the worst
and this episode is about to start getting casually racist. We’re just at the tip of the iceberg here.
Since Comstock’s from California, Ben asks him if he’s heard
any news about his old friend, Captain John Sutter of Sacramento.
Aw, nuts.
Here we go with the peach trees.
Okay, so back in the day Ben Cartwright and Captain Sutter
travelled across the plains together. The newly widowed Ben with his young son,
Adam, and Captain Sutter with a dream. A dream and a wagon full of peach trees.
Comstock says that Sutter is getting worse, and that his
mind is practically gone. Aw, no! Don’t tell the truth! You’re a liar! Lie! Say
everything is awesome and Sutter got more peach trees and maybe a cat named
Trinket? Do not encourage this line of conversation.
Hoss passes Comstock a plate of corn, and Comstock changes
the subject to corn and lies about his nationality. He claims to be from
Canada. I can understand why a con man would want to convince people he was
Canadian – for who is more trustworthy than the gentle Canuck? Also, Canadians
were as rare as sapphires then, usually preferring to stay in Canada with its
abundant resources and lack of impending Civil Wars. (Fun Fact: Comstock wasn't Canadian, but Jack Carson was!)
Ben shuts that load
of baloney right down so he can go back to getting pissed off about peach
trees. He angrily declares that dinner is over, and everybody is going to
adjourn to the living room for fresh coffee and a full report on the mental
health of Captain Sutter. Yay, fun.
Adam, who never
refuses a cup of coffee, decides he suddenly has to go to the sawmill and won’t
be able to hear his father’s exhausting lecture. I’d call him a coward, but I
want to go to the sawmill too.
In a desperate bid to change the subject before it’s in full
bloom, Adam quickly asks Comstock if he’d like to have a job at the lumber
camp. Sawing and hauling and doing things that require effort, that kind of
thing. Comstock says that he has a doctor’s note excusing him from manual
labour. But thanks for thinking of him.
Ben asks Comstock if he’s ever had a professional interest
in panning for gold. Comstock says yes. This is a trick so that Ben can talk
about peach trees. We spend six minutes hearing all about how Ben and Sutter
planted a valley full of grain and grape vines and “fruit-bearing trees.” But hydraulic mining and other unethical environmental practices destroyed that orchard,
and now John Sutter sits staring into the distance. Recognizing no one, saying
nothing.
“I made my vow that the Ponderosa would never fall into the
hands of spoilers and destroyers.” Ben menaces, “Mr. Comstock, if I so much as
see a man digging for gold anywhere
on my land, I’ll shoot him on sight.”
Comstock’s like: “There’s gold here?! Oh boy, oh boy, oh
boy! I’ll go get my pan and my shovel!”
There’s no gold here.
You might be wondering if this Henry T. P. Comstock has
anything to do with why the Comstock Lode is called that. He does. The
character is based off of the historical figure of the same name, but I’m not
going to go into it all that much. The real guy’s life story was insanely
depressing. Like an episode of Deadwood
written by F. Scott Fitzgerald, but with more horrible people.
Little Joe decides to be a helpful font of information, so
he explains to Comstock that while there are men mining for gold in Washoe,
they’re only finding negligible amounts. There’s a quartz vein, but ain’t
nobody caring about quartz in 1857. After we need it to run our computers and
New Age practitioners decide you can use it to talk to dolphins, folks can live
like kings. But for now, all they’ve got is that stupid blue stuff that’s probably
not silver ore.
Comstock appears to hear only the words “gold” and “Washoe”
and decides to set out to make his fortune. Ben watches him go and is like:
“There my sons passes an idiot.” Hoss thinks somebody should go after him and
make sure he doesn’t get himself killed. Ben is surprised. Usually Hoss is only
interested in protecting stupid animals, not stupid people.
“He reminds me of a jackass I know,” Hoss explains very
earnestly, shaking his head.
Little Joe laughs so hard he almost falls over. But then he
has an idea. If he goes with Hoss to Washoe Diggings, he can check out that
dance they’re having tonight!
Ben’s like: “Are you sure they’ve got women to dance with, son?” And Hoss explains that the camp has a
few washer women that do the laundry, and they usually go. He adds that those
girls are probably a little too sturdy for Joe, even though they’re awesome
dancers.
Little Joe gets permission to go play, then confides to
Hoss that he’s got an idea of how to get himself a pretty girl.
This is going to be a disaster.
Hoss tells him not to do anything stupid, but I don’t think
it’s going to stop him.
Joe goes and buys some turquoise silk, and rides very
carefully to bring it to the Paiute village. Because he’s going to kidnap a
Paiute girl and take her to the dance.
Little Joe, I don’t care if you’re seventeen in this story
and I mentally vowed to cut you slack today, this is a bad idea.
So, the Paiute are dressed like the Bannock were dressed in
previous episodes, and they shoot warning arrows at Little Joe. They take the bullets from Joe’s gun and lead him into the camp. Very ominous.
Meanwhile, Hoss has caught up with Comstock and they’re
arriving at Washoe Diggings. The campsite is much smaller than the last time we
saw it; right now it’s just a bunch of Mormons with gold fever. Comstock
himself is the one who changes all that. As they ride in, Hoss explains that
there’s too much blue stuff for people to mine gold effectively. Since the veins
of gold are so small, and the mountains are practically made of the blue stuff,
it’s all anybody can dig up. Hell, you can’t walk two feet without stubbing
your toe on a massive chunk of that dumb blue stuff.
Comstock blathers on some more, and I can’t emphasize enough
how little of this episode is plot content and how much of it is blather and unsubtle
speeches. But he does refer to the imaginary gold strike as the Comstock Lode,
in one of those awkward historical tie-in moments.
“You just got here!” Hoss scolds, “How can you even think
about naming all this after yourself when you just got here?”
Hoss, sit down. I need to tell you about dishonest people…
So Comstock goes over to the two nearest miners, who are
busily sluicing at their sluice box, and tells them that if they didn’t file a
legal claim, they’re trespassing on his land. He just walks down the hill and
starts swindling. I didn’t skip a part where any of this is explained, just straight
over to the miners and calling them trespassers right after Hoss’s line.
Hoss pulls Comstock aside and whispers: “You can’t do a
thing like that! You only just got here!”
(Hoss. This man does not want to work his way up from the
bottom in an ethical fashion. Your arguments do not matter to him.)
The two sluicers angrily tell Comstock that they filed their
claim two months ago up at Dutch Pete’s. Comstock turns to the side, strokes
his beard, and is all: “Dutch Pete’s, you say? Well, perhaps we ought to pay
this Dutch Pete a visit! Mwa ha ha ha!”
Suddenly, this episode realizes how dull it is to have
everybody talking about nothing, and decides it’s time for a big ol’ Hoss
Fight.
There’s no reason. All the miners just attack Hoss. It’s
like the AI malfunctioned in a Skyrim town and everybody went hostile. Hoss
breaks a shovel over one of his knees, just for some dynamic visuals? Or I
guess he figured that he’d do something to inconvenience his attackers after the fight. It’s a little tricky to
dig for gold without your shovels, jerks. Think about that the next time you
try to take on Hoss Cartwright.
As the fight rages on, Comstock slips into the background to
watch the goings-on from a healthier distance. Further away from the punching.
He finds himself standing next to a different old prospector at a different
sluice box, and this one is grumbling about how the blue stuff is gumming up
the works. Ugh. Stupid blue stuff. Stop being everywhere! You’re not worth any
money!
Comstock asks this man, Pike, how big his claim is, and Pike
answers that he has one of the largest claims around, gesturing helpfully with
his arms. But his is the worst one, because he gets the most blue stuff of
anybody. No gold, not even that awful useless quartz. He holds up
enormous chunks of ore and throws them to the ground in a rage.
This is probably the most historically accurate scene we’ll get
this episode. These guys would go out trying to strike gold in the area, after
a small vein was found running through the quartz, and dig up huge piles
of this mysterious “blue stuff” which they would then leave in a communal
garbage dump, because it wasn’t gold. The average Mormon amateur prospector
didn’t know a thing about actual
mining or minerals. It’s the best gold rush story ever.
Taking advantage of Pike’s frustration, Comstock offers to
be his partner. Pike’s all: “Partner in a giant pile of worthless trash stones?
What’s wrong with you?” Comstock then offers to buy half the claim for
seventeen dollars. This stuns Pike, who feels obliged to tell Comstock that
“all this dang blue stuff ain’t worth a nickle!” But he agrees to the
proposition.
Important to note is that Comstock has no idea what the blue
stuff is, either. He’s playing an unrelated long con. In fact, he has some
very specific instructions for his new partner to follow over at Dutch Pete’s
tonight. We can’t hear those instructions over the whirlwind of carnage that
Hoss suddenly pushes into the foreground.
Well, I suppose we’d better go and see what kind of stupid
nonsense Little Joe is up to his balls in over at the Paiute village, the
scamp.
For this episode, Chief Winnemucca is played by Bruce
Gordon, who you might know as Frank Nitti on The Untouchables. Personally, of all the actors who’ve done this
role so far, I liked Anthony Caruso the best. If you’re wondering how
come a different guy always plays Winnemucca, I’m not totally sure. If you’re
wondering why Italian character actors are always playing Paiutes, the answer
is Hollywood racism.
Winnemucca has been written with Injun Talk today, just to
make modern viewers cringe:
“You brave man. You ride into Paiute territory alone.”
Little Joe awkwardly reminds Winnemucca that the Paiute know the
entire Cartwright family. This will make anybody who remembers our tragically dead
friend Young Wolf, Adam’s childhood best friend and Winnemucca’s son,
want to rip out their hair in frustration.
I miss Young Wolf every day. Nobody was better at holding
people at knifepoint for no reason. Nobody.
“You live way up on mountain. Why you come here?”
Regular Bonanza
fans, can you spot the problem?
If you answered that the Paiute live on Sun Mountain and the
Ponderosa Valley is in a valley, you
get to be just annoyed with this scene as I am!
Anyway, Joe says that he brought Winnemucca the turquoise
silk, and I really think it’ll bring out the old darling’s big brown eyes. It’s
lovely. The chief is confused, because this whole thing is bizarre, and Little
Joe clarifies that the fabric is for Saratuchi, Winnemucca’s daughter.
And that massive error means it’s history time:
Sarah Winnemucca, whose Paiute name was Shell Flower
(Tocmetone, not Saratuchi) was one of
the most interesting figures in the history of Nevada. She was a vocal advocate
for cultural education, and an interpreter, scout, and messenger for the U.S.
Army. In 1883, after spending almost a decade giving lectures and talks
throughout the northeast, she published the first autobiography written by a
Native American woman. It’s still widely read today and regarded as an important
ethno-historical text.
Little Joe tosses Winnemucca the silk, and Winnemucca says
that it’s useless dainty fabric that would wear out in two seconds. He tosses
it back to Joe.
“Yeah, well.” Little Joe smiles tightly, “It’s for a dress,
not a horse blanket.”
Being a smartass to the girl’s father is always a good
strategy when fishing for dates.
Regardless, Winnemucca calls Saratuchi – let’s try and
pretend that the character is supposed to be somebody different from the
historical figure, since the name is wrong – and she steps out to show us she’s
beautiful. She seems enamoured with the turquoise fabric, but oh! She can’t
really speak English!
Fun fact: The real Winnemucca was insistent on all of his
children, including Sarah, being fluent in English.
I don’t usually complain about the terrible portrayals of
the Paiute this much, even though they bother me, but this episode is just so bad about it. It’s not even trying to
match what was established on the show.
I’m just going to power through the rest of this sequence.
Little Joe is going to take Saratuchi to the dance, but it
has to be a secret. (The actual line is: “Don’t tell Chiefy!” In case you wanted
to throw up in your mouth a little bit.) She is instructed to make a party
dress out of the fabric he brought.
That night, Saratuchi has fashioned herself an outfit, and
she and Little Joe walk into Dutch Pete’s while a square dance is in full
swing. Hoss is already in the middle of it, getting his party on. He’s one of
those big guys who can really bust some moves. Of course, Saratuchi instantly
draws the attention of a drunken lout who hollers in delight and calls her a
“real hunk of woman!”
Hoss, who has his arm around an adorably chubby washer woman,
looks concerned when he notices that Little Joe has brought Saratuchi with him.
Ah, if only Adam wasn’t doing fake work at the sawmill tonight! This situation
would already be over!
Over at the bar, watching the crowd murmur over Saratuchi,
Comstock is drinking glasses of tarantula juice. It’s sounds fun and colourful,
but it’s actually expensive whiskey cut with gunpowder and strychnine so that
it could be watered down without people noticing. It’s horrifying.
Hey! It turns out that old hollering drunk is historical
figure Ol’ Virginny! He was from Virginia, but he murdered a man and fled to
the West to avoid going to prison. Virginia City is named after him. True fact.
Okay, so Ol’ Virginny thinks that it was a bad political
decision to kidnap Winnemucca’s daughter and bring her to a rowdy dance full of
leering drunks, which is a strangely clear-minded opinion for an alcoholic
fugitive whose pants are being held up with a rope. Hoss comes over to agree
with him, and quietly tries to convince Little Joe to just take Saratuchi home.
Little Joe declines, says some very sleazy things, throws his hat onto a mounted
stag’s head, and demands a square dance be called.
Good luck getting your hat down, dork.
Hoss and his little girlfriend get back into the party, and
Hoss suggests Comstock might like a dance with her, but Comstock acts all
offended because she’s chubby. When everybody complains about this one being
boring, they usually forget to mention that the second half is offensive to so
many different kinds of people. Probably because they fall asleep or leave.
Little Joe kisses Saratuchi – Joseph! It is 1857! Kissing women on the dance floor is obscene! –
and just as he does, Winnemucca and a handful of braves bust in wearing war
paint, and I’m too tired to keep fighting this. It’s just a racist, poorly
thought-out moment in a racist, poorly-thought out episode. Winnemucca is
understandably angry, and tells Little Joe that Saratuchi is engaged to Lame
Knife? Lean Knife? Somebody who wasn’t real and who Sarah Winnemucca was never
engaged to.
Anyway, Comstock kisses the bride for good luck, and all
hell busts loose. Luckily, Ben and Adam turn up just in the nick of time. Ben
tells Winnemucca that he’ll punish Little Joe, probably by recounting the peach
tree saga again. Winnemucca’s down with that, so he quietly takes his braves
and his daughter and they leave. On the way out, Little Joe goes to give
Saratuchi one last kiss, but Ben clotheslines him. Seriously. Arm straight out.
Wham. Almost makes the rest of the scene worth it.
Adam is feeling sassy today:
“The thing I like about you, little brother, is that you
don’t care how big of a mess you get yourself into. As long as somebody else gets you out of it.”
Ben decrees that everybody is supposed to go home right now
and never have fun again. Hoss argues that this is unfair, since Little Joe is
the one being punished. Besides, Adam came all this way and he deserves a
dance. Hoss goes to get his little girlfriend from before, and finds her
chugging whiskey at the bar. He says he likes her because she drinks like a
lady, then pulls Adam over.
“Now, sure, she’s a little on the heavy side, but she can
dance better than any of ‘em!” Hoss declares and pushes them out onto the
floor.
It’s sweet. Also, Adam is the worst dancer ever.
Once the party’s just winding back up, it gets interrupted
again. This time by Pike. I’m kind of sad that text messages weren’t a thing
back then, because this night would have been hilarious.
Got here. Square dances. Bartender says only poison whiskey.
Biggest Cartwright is crazy dancer!
Little Cartwright showed up with a princess, idk if its good idea… :(
Paiute braves r here. Chief is SUPER pissed.
Old Cartwright stopped fight, music is back. Fancy Cartwright dances like a hunchback.
OMG! Gold in the Washoe! Drunk prospector brought nuggets for everybody!
Pike is shouting about how he struck gold. He’s supposed to
be doing this as part of Comstock’s scheme, except he actually found gold. Of
course, whatever he found in the gold department isn’t going to be much and the
silver will actually be more valuable, but whatever. Comstock sells his shares for one hundred dollars to
anybody who wants to buy a piece of the Comstock Lode, while Pike tries to tell
him that they really did strike it
rich.
It’s trying to be funny, but it’s not funny because the gold is not the point of the Comstock
Lode. Or maybe it is funny and I'm too uptight. Either way, I ain't laughing.
Everybody pushes out of Dutchman Pete’s, and in the hubbub,
Ol’ Virginny gets knocked over and lands on his whiskey bottle. He announces
that the breaking of the bottle is the official christening of the city, which
shall henceforth be known as Virginia City!
so drunk rnow lol but i think we named the town
The Cartwrights watch as everybody heads for the mountains,
and they’re all super disappointed in humanity.
Ben seriously brings up the peach trees again.
Awesome.
We dissolve back into the present where Ben sympathetically
tells the trespassing prospector that Henry Comstock is a pretty good
trickster. He offers to pay twenty-five dollars for the fake deed, as a memento
of the man who knew only how to deal with loads of crap, but not lodes of
silver.
Ben finally
explains that there’s very little gold in the Washoe, but it turned out that
all the blue stuff was silver, and Comstock lost out on an actual fortune. The
old prospector apologizes for the misunderstanding, and the Cartwrights ride
home.
Hopefully to bathe Little Joe.
High Point: Hoss
is a cutie and I still like Bonanza
in general.
An insightful and fun review, Jaina, even if overly sensitive to perceived "racism." I actually enjoyed "Mr. Henry Comstock" while admitting there were shortcomings. I gave it an 8-star IMDb rating and I see it's currently sitting at a respectable 7.3 with 53 votes. I know a large part of my enjoyment was due to Jack Carson, whom I have seen and liked in many old movies and who hams it up here on BONANAZA. If anyone else played the role, it may have fallen flat. I like the historical episodes of BONANZA, even when they're more fictional than fact (the episode with Charles Dickens is among my top favorites despite being untethered from reality). For me, the "lots of racism" charge is unjust since I saw this episode as striving admirably to overcome racism by having Little Joe publicly challenge a taboo of his time. That was the takeaway message. This was a good not great episode and your well written and witty review heightened my appreciation of it (while also reminding me of the missteps along the way). Thank you!
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