Part 4

Stumptown lies in South Evans Gulch, east of Leadville. It was the place where Maggie Tobin Brown lived as the bride of Jim Brown, manager of the Little Jonny mine. It is also where she is supposed to have lost a fortune by hiding paper money in a stove and having it burned. The upper photo looks west toward the Sawatch Range past the Ollie Reed mine; the lower, toward Mosquito Pass and the burro race trail.

_From Fairplay_

Buckskin Joe and Leavick are the principal trips here although Como and Mudsill are circled on the map because of photos (over). Buckskin Joe was a famous placer camp discovered in August, 1859, by eight prospectors led by Joseph Higganbottom. Since he was a mountaineer who habitually wore clothes of tanned deer skin, his nickname was “Buckskin Joe.” The diggings were named after him.

The town flourished under this name and Lauret for most of the 1860’s, having in 1861 a population of five or six hundred including twenty or thirty women. At least half the residents made their living from saloons, hotels, gambling dens and variety halls which caused Buckskin Joe to be described in the _Rocky Mountain News_ as South Park’s “liveliest little burg.” By 1874 its population had dropped to fifty, and several years later it was dead. Its creation of the Silverheels legend makes it unique, and people say her cabin still stands in the trees across the creek....

Leavick is unique because it existed sixteen years as a settlement without a name. From 1880 to 1896 there was a group of miners, sometimes as high as two hundred, living in the shadow of Horseshoe Mountain (see photos) close to the Last Chance and Hilltop mines and their mill. The settlement had two saloons, stores, a house of ill repute, and no name.

Finally when the narrow gauge railroad arrived in 1896, the town was named after Felix Leavick, prominent mining man of Leadville and Denver, who owned properties in the Mosquito Range. Leavick had a sporadic life until 1910 with occasional fake bursts after that. Today most of its buildings have been moved to South Park City, a tourist town on the edge of Fairplay.

DID “SILVERHEELS” DANCE HERE IN THE 1860’S?

Buckskin Joe was the mining camp that created one of the most delightful Colorado legends. Silverheels was a beautiful dancehall girl who stayed to nurse the miners during a smallpox epidemic after all the other women fled. Later, when the miners raised a purse to reward her, she could not be found. Smallpox had attacked and ravaged her beauty; so she disappeared. In memory, Mount Silverheels was named for her.

RAILROAD GHOSTS HAUNT SOUTH PARK

At Mudsill the wye of the Denver, South Park and Hilltop narrow gauge is all that remains of a small camp created by the activities of the Mudsill mine. Below is the sad, abandoned D.S.P. & P. roundhouse at Como.

THE PARK’S MINING GHOSTS ARE MANY

The Leavick terminus of the Last Chance and Hilltop mines’ tramway was at the above mill. Ore buckets swung in the second story (right), emptied and back along the towers. Below is an arastra in Buckskin Creek.

_From Cripple Creek_

Next to Leadville, the Cripple Creek district has the most fascination for the preterist. It had the most fabulous gold production of any camp in Colorado—nay, in the United States. According to historian Marshall Sprague, the district created twenty-eight millionaires as a modest estimate. One of those who made a million was lumberman Sam Altman. Formerly he ran a sawmill in Poverty Gulch but in 1893 he founded a town, Altman.

His town was close to three big producers, the Pharmacist, Victor and Buena Vista, and to his own mine, the Free Coinage on Bull Hill. By November of 1893, the town was supporting four restaurants, six saloons, six groceries, several boardinghouses and a telephone. A school house and two hundred frame or log houses had been erected, and the loyal citizens claimed a population of twelve hundred.

From its high perch Altman could look down on Independence, Goldfield, Cameron and many another mushrooming settlement that burgeoned in the Cripple Creek excitement of the early ’90’s. It was not a dressy camp, but a workaday place peopled solely by miners. These miners were workers—hard workers—and they thought they should be more justly rewarded for their labor.

One of Altman’s miners was John Calderwood, a Scotsman and a graduate of the McKeesport School of Mines in the class of 1876. He elected to be an organizer for the Western Federation of Miners, a newly formed union born in Butte, Montana, in May, 1893. He was no firebrand but a dignified conscientious worker. Within two months he had signed up every Altman miner for his Free Coinage Union No. 19, W. F. M., and promised them a standard eight-hour three-dollar day.

ALTMAN CLAIMED TO BE THE HIGHEST TOWN

Altman was platted by Sam Altman in 1893 on the short saddle between Bull Hill and Bull Cliff and soon had a population of fifteen hundred (including Midway a hamlet to the northwest). Its altitude was 10,620 feet. It claimed to be the highest incorporated town in the world and probably was, in North America. Both upper and lower shots were taken near the crest of Bull Hill with Pikes Peak looming in the background. Bull Hill was the scene of one of the early skirmishes of labor-capital battles and was notable as the first significant victory for labor. Part of the maneuvering was comic opera and part, raw violence.

The mine owners were enraged at his demand. In February, 1894, twelve of them banded together in an agreement that their mines would operate solely on a nine-hour three-dollar day. One of the signers was Sam Altman who sat back to see what the residents of his town would do next.

Under Calderwood’s bidding five hundred men walked out of the nine-hour mines. Bull Hill, practically in Altman’s back yard, was one of the areas most affected because a number of nine-hour mines were located there.

Calderwood organized a central kitchen at Altman to feed the out-of-work miners. He collected funds, trained pickets, assessed the working miners and addressed daily meetings. By March the Bull Hill mine owners were no longer scoffing. Winfield Scott Stratton, richest operator in the district, sent for Calderwood and offered a compromise of $3.25 for a nine-hour shift by day and the same wages for an eight-hour shift by night.

Calderwood accepted the compromise and signed a contract. A contract with a union leader was an unheard of thing in that day and stirred the whole state into editorials and epithets. It made the mine owners of Bull Hill bull-headed, and they attempted force to re-open their mines. But Calderwood made a fortress out of Altman.

He kept order but he also kept anything in the way of a scab or a mine owner out. The mine owners appealed to Governor Waite for militia which arrived and was withdrawn, leaving Calderwood in possession of Altman and Bull Hill. Unfortunately, Calderwood decided to tour the state on behalf of the miners’ cause. Without his calm wise leadership the criminal element drifted in and violence took over.

The final peace treaty was signed at Altman on June 10, 1894, after one hundred and thirty days of the strike—the longest in American history up to that time. The nine-hour mine owners gave in on the question of an eight-hour day.

The Battle of Bull Hill was over, and Altman went back to the business of mining. Later on it was the hang-out for the Jack Smith gang and saw some shootings. But mostly the town just mined until the second Cripple Creek strike occurred a decade after the first.

It maintained a steady population until that time. But after the ill effects of the second strike, mines shut down and miners moved out. In 1910 its population had dropped to one hundred. After that it fell off consistently until there was no one.

Altman is unique in our collection—and in the United States—as the scene of the first major strike war and of the first workers’ victory—a truly unique presage of the twentieth century.

THE CRIPPLE CREEK DISTRICT HAS MORE GHOSTS

Goldfield was platted in January, 1895, and had a population of thirty-five hundred. It served rather as a suburb to Victor but did build a few substantial buildings, including this fire house. Its quaint engine has been removed to Victor for display. The Bull Hill station (below) is a reminder of three railroads that formerly served Cripple Creek and also of the Independence station blown up by Harry Orchard, 1904.

_From Canon City_

Two interesting mountain spots may be seen in this locality. Rosita, which dates from 1873, is a true ghost town with no one living there in 1960 save the postmistress. But Silver Cliff is no ghost, despite the fact that it was for a decade or more from 1910 on. Both are former county seats of Custer County, and both lost the honor as their silver mines gave out.

Silver Cliff is five years younger than Rosita and experienced a much greater boom than any other mining camp in Colorado with the exception of Leadville. Its first shipment of ore from the gargantuan and unique silver cliff (site of both photos) was in 1878. The population rose to some fifteen thousand in 1881 at the peak of its three-year rush. The Denver and Rio Grande Railroad reached there in May, 1881, and was welcomed with celebration.

Its fire department, established in 1879 in the Town Hall (the lonely building facing this way in the 1960 shot, and now a museum), soon distinguished itself as a frequent winner in the state tournaments of hose cart races for volunteer firemen....

Rosita (which means “Little Rose” in Spanish) was the principal town in the Wet Mountain Valley for five years before Silver Cliff and Westcliff (now the county seat) usurped its priority. It had the honor of being the subject of an article written by Helen Hunt Jackson and published in _Scribners Monthly_ for May, 1878. The author (“H. H.”) claimed there were three hundred mines at the time—but she probably did not know a mine from a prospect hole. She stayed at an inn called _The House of the Snowy Range_, and her descriptions made Rosita and its setting sound as poetically unique as its name.

ROSITA’S HANDSOMEST HOUSE LIVED ON

In the 1890 photo the ornate two-story house (seen below) stood at the righthand end of the main street, facing this way. In 1960 the house next was gone except for some lumber on the ground; the third house still stood. The mansion bore a sign Post Office which was tacked up in 1957 during the filming of _Saddle the Wind_, a movie that starred Robert Taylor and used Rosita for atmosphere. Both are now gone.

SILVER CLIFF CHOSE A MAGNIFICENT BACKDROP

Silver Cliff boomed in 1879 to such an extent that it rivaled Leadville for a decade. For a short period it was the third largest town in Colorado and it has never been a true ghost town, although much fallen from its former opulence. What has never changed is the view from the silver cliff, facing the town, across the Wet Mountain Valley to the spectacular reddish Sangre de Cristo Range (Blood of Christ in Spanish).

_From Salida_

Turret was a gold camp that was discovered very late—in 1897—and experienced a boom the following spring. It was located on the south side of Nipple Mountain (which is a spur of Turret Mountain) in a valley at the head of Cat Gulch. The _Rocky Mountain News_ for May 14, 1898, carried a long article describing the excitement in “Turret City” and the possibilities of the various lodes.

Houses were going up fast, and lots were in great demand. Stores, an assay office and saloons were doing business, and a hotel was planned. A post office was open, and daily mail was arriving from Salida. The article was exuberant at the gold showing in hematite, jasper and schist and spoke of the Monterrey lode as having great promise.

The town’s population, after the usual boomers and drifters departed, was around three or four hundred. In 1900 the _Denver Republican_ ran an article devoted largely to Turret’s mines and spoke of the mineralization being in the “Salida Copper Belt” and of the Gold Bug mine’s fine shipments of ore. The town was prospering.

By 1907 the population had slipped to two hundred fifty. Still it hung on with a steady flow of gold, gradually lessening to a trickle, until 1939 when there were but twenty-six residents. In 1941 the post office was discontinued, and finally Turret died.

Steve Frazee, prolific Colorado author, two of whose books have become films (_Gold of the Seven Saints_ and _Many Rivers to Cross_) and whose 1961 offering was _More Damn Tourists_, has this provocative recollection:

TURRET FACED THE COLLEGIATE RANGE

The cliffs which gave Turret its name are to the rear of the photographer in both shots. These photos look across the Arkansas Valley to Shavano and Antero Peaks. When the 1902 picture was taken, Turret had a population of one hundred ninety-five and was reached by stage from Salida. Note the residences on the hill at the far end of the main street where the 1960 shot caught a sod roof and amateur chimney.

“When I went to Turret in 1932 to operate a mine, there were thirty-seven inhabitants, three of whom were old timers, since they had been there from the 1890’s. One, Pete G. Schlosser of Illinois, claimed to be the first man to eat tomatoes and thus prove they were non-poisonous. Another, Emil Becker of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, had been the most active prospector of all, discovering mines and selling them. He was a former big league ball player, having pitched to Connie Mack. One of his old teammates, Billy Sunday, visited Becker when the latter was running a saloon in Turret, and that is a story in itself.”

In 1960 Turret had fifteen houses standing. The largest (which may have been the Gregory Hotel) was painted white, cared for, and evidently inhabited as a summer home. Two or three others appeared also to have been redeemed from the mountain rats by weekend sojourners. But the remainder were true ghosts.

Turret has a stimulating view of Shavano and Antero Peaks and the Collegiate Range. It is unique for the castle-like cliffs which stand guard to the east and which gave the town its name....

Bonanza, or Bonanza City, dates from early in 1880 when gold was found along Kerber Creek. An episode occurred about the naming of Bonanza which is probably unique in the annals of Colorado. The city fathers decided on Bonanza City as a name. In consequence the town was so incorporated in December, 1880, but they changed their minds. One month later, in January, 1881, the town was re-incorporated as Bonanza. This has led to considerable confusion during the years—some historians claiming that Bonanza is one of Colorado’s seven incorporated “cities”—which it is not.

The town’s boom began in the summer of 1880 when there was a rush to Kerber Creek. Four towns sprang up of which Bonanza is the sole survivor. For a few it had a population of some fifteen hundred while thirty-two businesses tended to Bonanza’s needs. But the district’s ore was a disappointment—far from bonanza. It proved to be low grade and also refractory. In the mid-1880’s the town almost died.

Then Mark Beidell imported new machinery for the Michigan mine and mill and proved that the ore values could be recovered for small but adequate profit. Slowly others emulated this example, and by 1900 the Bonanza, Exchequer and Eagle mines had been re-opened. More mines such as the Wheel of Fortune, St. Joe and K. O. also produced steadily. The ores were largely lead, zinc and silver with a little copper.

Bonanza has never died. In 1910 it had a population of one hundred. Some thirty people were still living there the year around in 1960, the men actively mining and hoping for the price of metals to rise. Many buildings were standing, at least half of them deserted.

Bonanza is unique in our collection because of the anomaly of its name—a real misnomer.

BONANZA

Bonanza City was actually no bonanza. It had many mines and quantities of low-grade ore which supplied some good fortunes but no millions. It spread for over a mile along Kerber Creek and absorbed an early rival, Kerber City.

KERBER CREEK IGNORES THE GLORIOUS PAST

The 1960 shot was at the upper end of Bonanza and depicts the farthest house in town, opposite a well and the Wheel of Fortune mine dump.

_From Buena Vista_

A drive up Chalk Creek around the south side of Mt. Princeton and past the Chalk Cliffs (as famed in their way as those of Dover) will bring you to St. Elmo. This mining camp was located first as Forest City in December, 1880, but shortly after received a post office under the name of St. Elmo. Its main reason for existence was the Mary Murphy mine which had been located five years before and was sold in 1880 to a St. Louis company. There were other gold and silver mines in the locality, such as the Brittenstein group, but many did not warrant the capital expended.

St. Elmo’s second reason for existence was the arrival of the narrow gauge, Denver, South Park and Pacific Railroad, which was building toward Gunnison. The grade required a tunnel under the continental divide, west of St. Elmo. In the face of howling blizzards and much labor trouble, work on the Alpine Tunnel went on while St. Elmo acted as a supply depot. The tunnel was completed the following year in December, 1881, and regular service through the tunnel commenced in the summer of ’82. According to the Colorado Business Directory, St. Elmo’s population was three hundred in these years but dropped to two hundred and fifty when some of the mines proved to be mirages.

But the Mary Murphy held up through the years, employing around one hundred men. According to Louisa Ward Arps (Chalk Creek historian), its peak year was 1914 when a crew of two hundred and fifty was hired. The mine had a tramway nearly 5000 feet long which ran down Pomeroy Mountain from the tunnel outlet at the fourth level to the railroad grade in the gulch. The Mary Murphy finally ceased operation in the 1920’s with a total production of around $14,000,000.

SAINT ELMO HAD A CLIFTON HOTEL

The upper view shows one of the two main blocks that was destroyed by fire in 1890. The Clifton Hotel was the large white building in the center of the upper view. The white building at the right was a saloon—note bartenders with white aprons and man holding a beer keg. In the original picture, the stage road to Tin Cup Pass can just be discerned, wending its way up through the timber at far left.

During its heyday St. Elmo was a little hub, having in addition to its railroad, toll roads west to Tin Cup, north to Aspen and south to Maysville. Accordingly it was a favorite spot with the miners for Saturday night celebrations. But when trips through the tunnel stopped in 1910, and trains up Chalk Creek were halted in 1926, St. Elmo was doomed. Finally there were only two residents of St. Elmo, Annabelle Stark and her brother, Tony, who were to be the subject of many articles. Until their deaths, each one’s mounting eccentricities made them legendary, and St. Elmo unique....

Winfield started in 1880 and had a post office, one store, two hotels, two saloons and enough cabins to make a population of around thirty. By 1883 it had a number of mines operating which were shipping their silver and copper ore to Leadville for smelting. One of these mines was the Augusta, owned by Jacob Sands (the lover of Baby Doe who brought the beautiful Colorado divorcee to Leadville). Jake was a friend of Horace Tabor’s and eventually lost his sweetheart to the Silver King (as Tabor was called). But what made Jake name his mine after Tabor’s first wife? Probably Tabor gave him some money for development since the claim was located on May 10, 1880, several weeks before Tabor and Baby Doe met. The mine is a long crosscut tunnel in Hummel Basin about two miles northwest of Winfield. The Augusta made money for a while but produced no fortune.

Still, the strange puzzle of the mine’s name and hidden history does give Winfield a unique quality.

WINFIELD

The Clear Creek district of Chaffee County had seven mining camps rivaling each other in 1881. Only two survived, Vicksburg and Winfield. Today both have been changed into summer resorts where fishing is the principal sport and main attraction.

_From Gunnison_

Tin Cup was “a wild ’un.” Probably Creede, Leadville and Tin Cup attained the worst reputations (and rightfully) of Colorado’s many mining camps. Tin Cup was particularly hard on marshals. The first two officeholders were weak and completely under control of the vice element who ran the gambling dens, sporting houses and saloons full tilt. The marshals’ orders were to give an appearance of law and order so as to make it easier to fleece the suckers.

Finally conditions grew so bad that a sincere attempt was made to straighten up the corruption. The first strong marshal, Harry Rivers, was shot in a gun battle. His successors were shot, resigned, went insane, or got religion and changed their calling to that of the pulpit. Their infamous story has been very ably portrayed by Rene Coquoz, Leadville historian. “Frenchie,” the saloon keeper who shot one of the marshals, ran a place across from the Town Hall at Washington and Grand Streets. The saloon still stands.

Tin Cup’s history begins very early in 1861. A prospecting party that consisted of Jim Taylor and two companions was camped on the Taylor River. One of the men brought back to camp some promising looking gravel in a tin cup which suggested the idea of a name for the region. They did a little placering; but in the next years the Civil War curtailed mining activities throughout Colorado. Nothing much happened in the region until the late 1870’s when strikes were made on the Gold Cup, the Tin Cup, the Anna Dedricka and the Jimmy Mack. Immediately there was a rush to the area, and in 1879 the town of Virginia City was surveyed and platted.

TIN CUP’S TOWN HALL LOOKS CHURCHLY

During Tin Cup’s revival a Town Hall was erected in 1906 and used for a variety of community affairs. The Town Hall was renovated and re-painted in 1950 by the Civic Association. Tin Cup had no church.

Frank Hall, one of Colorado’s most eminent historians, says in Volume IV of his comprehensive work that the surface ores were high grade silver, ranging from 114 to 600 ounces of silver per ton, and that all had admixtures of gold. In addition there were some excellent placers and gold lodes. In 1880 the Gold Cup mine sold for $300,000, and the town was firmly on its way.