USA > Colorado > Colorado pioneers in picture and story > Part 23
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"It was Bill Updike's love of the manly art that travelers were indebted to for a radical shortening of the time schedule of many a journey between Denver and the mountain town, where there chanced to be a boxing match of an afternoon at either end of the route; the timid 'tenderfoot' whose luckless fate it was to be a passenger on such an occasion, would get an experience of lively mountain coaching, the recollection of which made his hair resist the brush for many a week afterward.
"Oh, I must tell you about our 'sleighing fete,' " Mr. Young went on, seeming to enjoy telling reminiscences of the early days. "In the winter of 1868 the first snow came in October and there was not a thawing day through the long dreary winter. By holiday times, the roads, which were constantly used, had become firmly packed, and as smooth as polished steel. We inaugurated a sleighing fete, which continued night after night for many weeks, and which was as notably comprehensive in its ensemble as it was crudely fantastic in its equipment, because of the many unique constructions that were forced into service, from the single seat, carved out of a drygoods box that served the youth and his girl, to the twenty-foot coaster, a combination of two rough wood sleds, that carried a dozen men down the steep grade with the velocity of a railway train. The course meas- ured a fair two miles in its length, from its crown in Nevada to its foot in Black Hawk. Many were the sharp curves that called for the skill of the helmsman and many the luckless ones who were deposited, with small cere- mony in the middle of the bordering gulches.
"On moonlight nights especially, the scene was one of hilarious excitement. At times a fair half of the colony were rushing down the crowded course, as voy- ageurs or looking on and cheering. And not by any means were these confined to the giddy youth or the reckless spirits of the mountains-the merchant. the
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banker and the professional man were there-jostling elbows with the toiler who had spent his day a thousand feet underground and was keen for a bit of relaxation in the crisp outer air. The parish priest, rosy and bub- bling over with high spirits, waved a cherry salute en passant to the clerical brother of another sect, as he toils back up the long hill with the empty sled for a fresh start. The school master also was there, glad enough to accept the dauntless pilotage of the boy who that morning had cowered at his frown; and the young school ma'ams made up more than one sled load of laughing, shrinking, breathless figures, as they speeded down the slippery way. It was exhilarating, thrilling and often dangerous sport, for at times the roadway was badly jammed, and a fine mix up ensued when rounding a curve; but the sport was too good to be checked by trifles. and the oppor- tunity too rare in our Italian climate to be allowed to pass unimproved."
JUDGE E. T. WELLS
Judge E. T. Wells is another man of elegant military bearing, who was in Central in the early days. He has witnessed the development of Colorado in all its various interesting phases from 1865 to the present, and taken an active part in much of its history.
The Judge said :
"When I came to Colorado in the Fall of 1865, the chief locality in which lode mining was being prosecuted was in Gilpin County; even there the industry was at a very low ebb. The only process in common use for the separation of the precious metals from the ore was the stamp mill, but many other processes were being pro- posed and experimented with. All of them without ex- ception were failures, and for several years afterwards the iron used for the manufacture of new stamps, and for repairs, came from the establishments where these
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new processes had been installed, but in '65 every new man who came to Gilpin County was supposed to have an improved process for what they called the 'desulphuri- zation' of refractory ores of the district.
"I took an office with the city clerk and police magis- trate of Black Hawk and with Robert M. Clark, the city marshal, was joint tenant of a bed-room at the rear of the office. The office was warmed by a wood- burning stove, about three feet in height. In order to procure hot water for the morning's toilet I de- vised and drew a sketch of a tin bucket to be set in at the top of the stove which should reach down to the fire. That it might not fall through the open- ing at the top of the stove I planned a rim round the top of the bucket which should support it. It was drawn to a less diameter towards the bottom so as to form a section of a E. T. Wells cone, and looked a good deal like a soldier's hat of Civil War times. I took this sketch to a tin-smith and went to him after the lapse of a few hours to bring it away- everybody then did his own errands. He was giving the last blows to the invention as I went in, and, supposing it to be part of my process for 'desulphurization,' he handed it to me with the remark: 'There, that is the d-dst looking desulphurizer I have made vet.' "
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Among the members of the bar of Gilpin County at that time was Ellsworth Wakely. He was a man of great learning in the law, but of quaint and whimsical manners. He regarded no law book as entitled to respect if published since the reign of Charles II. He told many anecdotes of the profession, always giving the stature and avoirdupois of each character. On one occa- sion he told me that the first court which he ever attended was in Connecticut; there were three judges. and "What do you think," said he, "One of those judges opened the court with prayer. I have often thought that Horace Atkins was about the size of that judge that opened the court with prayer, but Horace Atkins is a little heavier than that judge was. Sometimes I think that Sam Lorah is about his size. but Sam is a little taller. I have never seen but one man who was just the size of that judge. Five years ago I was going over to Empire, and I met on the roadside a man just exactly the size of that judge. I never saw him before. and never have seen him since, and I do not know who the h-1 he was, but I thought at the time he was just exactly the size of that judge who opened the court with prayer."
Judge Gorsline, who presided in the District court in Gilpin County in those years, was not always in good health, and frequently when a long trial was coming on, he would ask counsel to agree upon some member of the bar to sit in his stead. Judge Wakely was often selected on these occasions, and delighted in the service. On one occasion an action of replevin had been tried. and when the verdict came in and was handed up by the foreman of the jury. Judge Wakely, instead of handing it to the clerk to be read, as the custom was, laid it upon the table, put his hand upon it while he searched through his pockets for his glasses. When these were recovered
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he read the verdict : "We find the issues for the defendant." "The verdict is not quite right, gentlemen of the jury," he said, in a mumbling, indistinct voice. "It should be, 'We find the defendant not guilty ;' but that doesn't matter, jurors are not expected to know these things, some lawyers don't know them. As our judge in Iowa used to say, Judge A. W. Hubbard-I suppose the jury have heard of Judge Hubbard,-a very excellent judge,-had a very excellent clerk,-I have forgotten the name of the clerk." Then he wandered off upon the avoirdupois of the judge and the clerk, and forgot the intended communication of the sayings of the judge.
At that time, as it may be imagined, we had no theatres, concerts, or other diversions, in this remote community, and the ladies one winter organized a lyceum. or what irreverent young men sometimes call a "spout shop," and detailed the lawyers, preachers, and doctors to deliver lectures. I believe I was the first victim. I had been reading then Buckle's History of Civilization in England, and delivered a sort of a lecture upon that book, presenting the idea that civilization and the progress of humanity depend largely on soil and climate. I remember that my most excellent and respected friend. Rev. B. T. Vincent, then, and still a noble ornament of the clerical profession, congratulated me, but he added. "I thank God that is not my idea of civilization." The lecture was noticed in the local paper the next morning. the notice ending with the equivocal compliment .- "At the conclusion of the lecture the audience seemed very much gratified."
Mrs. James B. Belford was as popular in Central in the early days as she is in Denver today. She is a rare woman. Her general information covers a wide range of literary and historical subjects ; her quick wit, de- lightful humor and forceful personality place her among
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the foremost women of Colorado.
With a smile in the corner of her mouth, which always plays there when memory calls a pleasant incident out of the past, she said : "I can tell you about a motherwho didn't know her own son.
"In the early 70's I was returning to my home in Central, and on the seat beside me in the car was a sweet faced little woman who said she was going to her son who lived on a ranch near Golden; she had not seen him for seven Mrs. James B. Belford years. He graduated from a law school and came to Colorado to recruit from exhaustion of protracted study. He regained his health and had determined to make his home here. 'God is so good to me,' said the little woman, in a spirit of thankfulness, 'to be under the same roof with my son is happiness enough for me.'
"'I wonder if you will know him ?' I asked.
"'Certainly,' she replied; 'it has been a long time. but I will know my son.'
"She talked of him all the way. Every cell of her brain seemed filled with memories of her son.
""'I hope the train is on time,' she said, anxiously.
"'I think it is, and there is your son,' I said, pointing to a man who was making long strides in the direction of the station.
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"She looked eagerly out of the window and said :
""'Oh, no, that is not my son-my son is tall, and slim, and white-so white.'
"As we neared the station she took up her valise, smoothed out her dress and stood in the aisle waiting in thrill of expectation.
"Presently the door opened, and a tall, broad-shoul- dered, sun-burned man-the same that I had seen making long strides for the station-opened the door and stepped in. He gave a searching glance through the car, rushed to the little woman and gathered her in his arms. She drew away and said: 'How dare you. sir ?'
""'Why, mother,' he exclaimed, 'don't you know me?'
""'Yes,' she cried out joyously. 'I know that voice- it is the voice of my son. How big and strong and well you look.'
" 'That is what Colorado has done for me, mother.' he said.
"They went away chatting, the little mother encircled by the arm of the big son to whom Colorado air had given health and strength."
THE BONANZA TUNNEL
Believing that "familiarity breeds contempt," we concluded not to return by way of the switch-back. there- fore took a carriage to the depot at Black Hawk, stop- ping on the way to see the renowned Bonanza tunnel. As we entered it, the air that greeted us was like a vagrant breeze from the North Pole. Our lips turned blue, and teeth chattered so as to make conversation unintelligible.
A gallant Boston man threw his linen duster around me. It was as cold as the "mantle of charity:" but I appreciated it, for it was something after the style of the widow's mite-"all he had." He, like many others
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who come from the "benighted east" to "do" the moun- tains, had no heavier wrap than a linen duster.
The tunnel pierces the solid mountain twelve hun- dred feet, and crosses twelve veins glittering with min- eral. As we explored its darkness by the light of our flickering candles we resembled a procession of spooks haunting the underground workers of earth.
It is solid comfort to travel with a company. When one is brimful. "shaken down and running over" with enthusiasm at some beautiful. grand and glorious freak of nature, it is delightful to have some one to nudge. and see the eves sparkle and faces brighten up with the same pleasure; and it is superlatively agreeable to have some one around when one feels afraid.
"Of all the ghostly habitations I have ever seen this takes the 'confection.' "
When we returned from our subterranean tour we were met by an army of little boys with specimens to sell. The rapid reduction of prices in these wares was something astounding. Rocks that were offered at first for fifty cents apiece fell to ten : and after I had bought all that I felt able to carry, a little boy emptied his box in my lap and said: "You can have them all for five cents."
The driver informed us that we had barely time to "make the train." and away we went. at a hair-lifting speed. over a road that was ploughed into gullies by the late rain storm.
We left this focus of gold-bearing veins for silvery Georgetown, and again we are in the grand old canyon. I can hardly believe it is the same. for, viewed from the other side. every curve, rockv dome and spire seems new. There are two sides to a canvon as well as to a quarrel : I am convinced of that. but my readers must be satisfied with a one-sided view. for I have not command of superlatives sufficient to describe the other view.
CHAPTER XXII SCENERY AND STORIES
CLEAR CREEK CANYON
While waiting for the up train at the Junction we had a delightful lunch, not like the usual fare at railway stations when you "ask for bread and receive a stone. but nice fresh rolls, genuine butter and savory coffee.
We started again eager for the ride through Clear Creek canyon, which is almost the perfection of pleasur- ing. There is a beauty and charm about this canyon that pleases, but never awes the beholder. The moun- tains are an unceasing wonder; none of them snow-clad. yet they mount high enough towards the sky to veil their heads in the clouds; they are not barren and repul- sive, but clothed in green, with occasional cascades break- ing over them. forming pictures restful and pleasing to the eye.
While rolling dreamily along, a castle with turrets. battlements and quaint windows loomed up before me. I started and rubbed my eyes, thinking it possibly arose from the heat of an over-wrought imagination. But it was a real castle: we had reached Idaho Springs, and this was the dwelling of the Honorable Thomas B. Brvan. It is so situated as to command a view of the valley. with its picturesque brown-roofed houses and rustic bridges that span the stream. Back of it are great dome- shaped hills, covered with evergreens. and beyond tower lofty mountains.
IDAHO SPRINGS
The hotels in this quiet little town, shut out from the world, were crowded with people, and many of them were
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there for a purpose, too, for they are racked with rheuma- tism and other ills, and just across the way are the famous "hot springs," which form, perhaps, the most important feature of this noted resort. The water issues from the ground boiling hot, and strongly suggestive of being sent up from the kitchen of Pluto. However, the temperature can be arranged to suit; "you pay your money and take your choice," whether you will be par- boiled or well done.
Radium Cave Baths at Idaho Springs
Idaho Springs, sheltered in the hills, is now Colo- rado's famous resort for "radium water" cure.
George A. Jackson, of Missouri, while on a hunting expedition through the mountains, discovered these springs, and a little farther on he reached a point on Chicago creek, now within the limits of Idaho Springs, where he thought the indications favorable to mineral. He built a fire of logs and thawed the ground to enable him to dig with a knife. His tin cup served as a pan. and with these implements he began digging and wash- ing. His first cupful of sand yielded him one dollar,
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and after working awhile he found he had washed out about nine dollars in shining gold dust.
The discovery was made on January 7, 1859.
After carefully marking the spot, Jackson returned to Golden and then to Auraria to await the coming of spring. In April, he went with twenty-two men to his find and later developments caused a great rush to the mountains. Jackson sold his interest in the claim and in 1860 joined the Confederate Army. His discovery marked the starting point of the mining history of the state.
IDAHO SPRINGS 1865
GEO.A. JACKSON
About three miles above Idaho Springs are Chicago Lakes, where it is said that Bierstadt found the subject of his grand painting, "A Storm in the Rockies." The lakes are at an elevation of 11,500 feet. When anything as unstable as water can attain that eminence, it arouses reflection upon the enormous possibilities of this world.
The time passed pleasantly at Idaho. We were pleased with the baths and more than pleased with the water. It has a flavor that I shall not soon forget. Soda mixed with sulphur is never a palatable beverage. It is a "cultivated taste," so they say, and grows upon one, but we didn't stay long enough to acquire it. It is said to cure all the ills flesh is heir to, and many old habitues
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seemed to take to it like ducks to water and drank it, to all appearances, with perfect enjoyment.
BISHOP RANDALL
As we moved along through this wild, beautiful canyon, with the evening sun bathing mountain top and valley in a dreamy, mystic light, I thought of the good man who aided in shaping our social, mental and Chris- tian developments, Bishop Randall.
He was an untiring worker in the cause of Christ. "I accompanied him through one day's labor in the mountains," said a lady member of his church. "We left Trotter's station early one morning and reached Idaho in time for service. I rang the bell while the Bishop opened the church, dusted the pews and books, and arranged his robe. After service, without stopping for dinner, we drove to Empire, where we had dinner, and the Bishop preached again. We then went to Georgetown, where he held service in the evening. The next morning we left Georgetown before breakfast, in fact before there were any signs of life on the streets. I shall never forget the beauty of that morning, as winding our way through the deep canyon. the sun peeped over the mountain tops. gradually growing brighter, until all the world seemed glorified by the splendor of its rays.
"We took breakfast at a station on the way, and con- tinued our journey, for the Bishop had an engagement in Denver that day which he felt compelled to meet."
That is only a trifling incident in his laborious life. but it was suggested to me by the trip being made in a single buggy, without brakes, over this very road, then rugged and precipitous, which the skill of the engineer has since converted into a solid bed for the steam car. While others were building roads, developing mines, encouraging agriculture, creating commerce and giving
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impetus to our material advancement, Bishop Randall was building churches, establishing schools and setting in motion those varied regenerating influences without which there can be no civilization, no society. The "Gen- eral Convention of the Protestant Episcopal Church" elected him Bishop of Colorado December 28, 1865. Twenty-two years he had labored as a parish priest .. in the City of Boston. His heart was bound to his people in those sacred ties of pastoral relations. and he had reached the time of life when most men feel the advance of age and begin to think of rest. His call was to him as the call of God to Abraham. He suffered the same trial of his faith. It seemed to him a terrible summons to uproot those firmly bound relationships and exchange his peaceful, happy home for the trials and harassing anxieties and homeless wanderings of a missionary bishop. He was a man and could not easily sunder ties so dear.
After prayerful consideration he decided to take the staff and go forward in fear and faith, believing it was the voice of God calling him to this work. He arrived in Denver June, 1866. making the journey across the plains in a stage coach. At that time there were but two parishes in the Territory, St. John's, at Denver, and St. Mark's, at Central. The Territories of New Mexico and Wyoming were also added to this diocese. The field was a large one and the work to be performed laborious. He traveled annually over his entire diocese, from Silver City, eight hundred miles to the southwest. on the farth- est borders of New Mexico, to the out-posts of the Wind river valley, five hundred miles to the northward. endur- ing hardships. encountering dangers, suffering depriva- tions, preaching the gospel, establishing schools and per- forming the various sacred duties of his high office. Never was there a more faithful or devoted worker.
In the midst of his great labors, seven years from
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the time he arrived in Colorado, the Master called him home.
The greatness of his success is best told by a brief review of the results. Parishes were organized and churches were built at Golden, Nevada, Georgetown, Pueblo, Canon, Colorado Springs, Idaho, Littleton and Baldwinsville, at Cheyenne and Laramie in Wyoming Territory, and at Santa Fe and Albuquerque in New Mexico. Wolfe Hall. a school for young ladies in Den- ver, was opened in 1867. He was a pioneer in the highest sense of the word, and possessed the qualifications which fitted him for the tasks thereby imposed. As an able, learned and eloquent divine he had few equals.
GEORGETOWN
Georgetown is picturesque and romantic, nestled amid the eternal mountains, that stand like gloomy senti- nels guarding it from the world, and guarding at the same time with morose and forbidding exterior the shin- ing glories in their own deep hearts. As they stretch away in their mighty upward slant, they are dotted with cosy little cottages that lend an additional charm to the landscape. Along the principal streets the houses have a comfortable, home-like appearance; the windows are garnished with boxes of blooming flowers, and vines climb in graceful beauty around them.
We telegraphed ahead for a carriage to take us to Green Lake, and we found it waiting-a large, over- grown spring wagon, "lined and bound" with buffalo robes; the finest type of a mountain vehicle. It was drawn by four very handsome horses, and the driver was Hiram Washburn,* who drove the first stage into Central City, Black Hawk, Idaho Springs and Georgetown. He told wonderful stories of how he made the hair of dis-
*It must be remembered that these mountain stories were written in 1884.
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tinguished passengers stand on end, by causing the rat- tling old coach to roll along first on one wheel and then on another; in fact perform any kind of acrobatic feat save that of a complete somersault, as the six horses dashed wildly along the precipitous mountain road.
Green Lake is only two miles from Georgetown, yet two thousand feet above it, reached by what is called a good mountain road.
It was the most remarkable road I ever saw. We wound in cork-screw curves, with only the road between imposing precipices above and yawning chasms below. It was "grand, gloomy and peculiar." Unlike Lot's wife. I had no disposition to look back to where I came from- it made my head swim, confused my ideas, and left an unpleasant sense of uneasiness and distress.
For the first time I lost interest in the summits, and became deeply absorbed in thinking how we were to get out of it.
Finally we switched around a deep curve and entered a trail, heavily fringed with dense and fragrant pines. I cannot describe the feeling with which it inspired me. It suggested both mystery and supernaturalism, and the peculiar sombre tint of the prospect intensified the feel- ing. We seemed to be winding through a resting place of the dead. Soon the awesome feeling was succeeded by a sweet religious ecstacy.
The busy work-a-day world was shut out and "peace on earth, good will to man" pervaded this great cathe- dral of nature. The emerald lake, with its placid water, the petrified forest at the bottom, and speckled trout that skimmed near its surface, was entrancing. The tall, trim evergreens that surrounded it, were perfectly mirrored in the water, and seemed to grow both ways, while the sun's rays, that fell through them, was like the dim religious light that shimmers through monastic windows.
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There were no exclamations, but everyone seemed to quietly and meditatively take in the divine picture.
But we were out for pleasure, and we thought the greatest sport of all would be to catch some of the beau- tiful fish. that stuck their heads up out of the water and made mouths at us in the most tantalizing way. The warder supplied us with rods, and the way we caught fish would have given pleasure to any lover of the Wal- tonian art. A lady, in great excitement, went around inquiring for a bucket, she wanted to fill it, and take it home to her dear husband. in Denver. But buckets were scarce up there, and none could be had for "freighting purposes." She was dreadfully disappointed, and said she intended to suggest to the proprietor of the hotel the advantage of keeping a stock of buckets for the accommodation of tourists. But when we came to settle our bills, and found we were charged fifty cents apiece for every fish caught, she forgot to make the suggestion.
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