seated on the steps of the porch, had gazed dreamily at its summit.
Shortly before his death, addressing a remnant of the "old guard," he
exclaimed: "Boys, when I go, I want you to plant me on the top of that
hill." And "planted" he was, with a ten-thousand-dollar monument on top
of him!

The poor old fellow died in poverty at Kelsey, near Coloma, August 10,
1885, at the age of seventy-five. It is a sad reflection that a tithe of
the money spent on the monument would have comforted him in his latter
days; for the blow to his pride by the withdrawal of his pension, still
more than the actual lack of funds, hastened the end.

Mr. Hooper intimated that the population of Coloma diminished
perceptibly after the termination of Marshall's pension. To common with
the majority of the old miners, be saved nothing and never profited to
any extent by the discovery that will keep his memory alive for
centuries to come.

Coloma in its palmy days had a population variously estimated at from
five to ten thousand souls, with the usual accompaniment of saloons,
dance halls and faro banks. There was a vigorous expulsion of gamblers
in the early fifties and an incident occurred which quite possibly
supplied the inspiration for Bret Harte's "Outcasts of Poker Flat." A
notorious gambler and desperado, and his accomplice, demurred. Whereupon
the irate miners placed them on a burro, and with vigorous threats
punctuated by a salvo of revolver shots fired over their heads, drove
them out of camp. They disappeared over the hill upon which the monument
now stands, and were seen no more.

Coloma suffered severely from fires. Little of the old town remains but