The Western Echo / A Description of the Western State and Territories of the United States. As Gathered in a Tour by Wagon

by George W. Romspert

The next day we came into the beautiful little town of Colorado Springs. The reader would naturally infer that from the name given to the place we were now really at the springs so often mentioned by the tourist; but really they are situated five miles west of here, and I shall have occasion to speak of them hereafter.

It was now the Sabbath-day, and we concluded to remain here until the morrow. After selecting a suitable spot upon which to camp, we changed our suits and were soon wending our way through the streets toward the little Presbyterian church. Here, although entire strangers, we were at once directed to the most comfortable seats, and were regarded with so much respect by the citizens that we again made a similar visit in the evening.

We were now within five miles of the base of the mountain already referred to; and as morning came and twilight dawned upon our little camp, all were busy preparing to complete the distance to the object which stood so majestically towering before us, with our minds fully absorbed with thoughts of climbing its rocky sides and standing upon its cool, snowy summit.

Before leaving here I desire to say a few words by way of description of this pretty little place. The town—the population of which is about six thousand souls—is situated on the Denver & Rio Grande Railway. It is neatly laid off in perfect squares, the streets all being of the same width. Along either side of each street are rows of beautiful, thrifty trees, which almost meet their heads over the pass-way, rendering them cool and delightful; while the water rolls in cool, crystal streamlets at either side of every street. The buildings are all remarkably neat; and there are two or three very large and magnificent hotels, with all modern improvements and conveniences. Take it all in all, Colorado Springs is certainly the most beautiful place we had ever seen. But as I do not wish to weary the reader with long and tedious descriptions, I must hasten to future events.

When we arrived within half a mile of the famous springs we camped among the bushes on the bank of a little stream that flowed down from among the mountains, in order that our team might have water and good pasture. We then proceeded the rest of the way on foot.

Our attention was attracted by the many vehicles passing to and fro,—some very fine carriages drawn by beautiful matched teams. On closer observation we found that the passengers were usually lying in beds prepared for the purpose, and apparently sleeping. On inquiry, we learned that these were invalids; and as they were unable to occupy any other posture, on account of physical weakness, they were taking their exercise in that way. Here might be seen numbers of such invalids from all parts of the Union. They are usually affected with pulmonary disease, and consequently come here to breathe the pure mountain-air and to drink of nature’s healing fountains.

The springs are situated in a deep hollow near the base of the peak; and three splendid hotels, with a few dwellings, a livery-stable, a grocery, etc., constitute the town of Manitou, the asylum of the afflicted, with whom the large hotels are often crowded.

Well, we first came to the sulphur spring; but after tasting its water—which proved to be not very palatable—we proceeded to the next, which we found to be soda-water. There is a beautiful polished rock, about six feet square and quite thick, carved out like a basin and placed over this spring, to receive the clear, cool waters that constantly bubble up through the silver-sand. We had yet one spring to visit, and this was the iron-spring; so, after seeing it and tasting of its waters, I told the boys that I had now tasted all of them, and that I preferred water without mineral. Will suggested that it might be like beer—it does not taste so well at first, but it does not take long to get used to it. Doc. thought that the greatest objection was, the springs were half a mile from camp, and a mile would be a long way to go every time a fellow wanted a drink. So he accordingly procured a little brown jug; and after it was filled we started back for camp. We had not gone far when of a sudden the cork flew forcibly from the jug; and striking Will on the most prominent feature of his face, it brought forth a few strains of Colorado eloquence. Here Will set the jug down and positively refused to carry it farther; “for,” said he, “if the rest of you want to run the risk of drinking that water, all right. But I don’t calculate to take any chances; for who knows but what the blamed stuff might blow a fellow up?”

We spent some days wandering up and down the lovely passes and sitting beneath the little trees on the brinks of the clear springs from whose waters we daily drew. To attempt to describe this place as it really is would be undertaking an impossibility; for the beautiful green slopes of the surrounding mountains, upon which the tasteful hand of Providence has planted her most lovely pines, the great silver-topped monument to the west that rears its head far above the clouds as if to call down the blessing of Heaven upon the pools below and guiding the afflicted to the fountain of life, the little springs away up in the bluffs that send their clear, icy waters rippling down the mountain-sides among the pretty trees, are all too perfect and beautiful for the human hand to imitate or the mind to imagine.

The medicinal qualities of the springs, too, are very great; for many persons who reached their green brinks exhausted, emaciated, and pale as death have felt new strength at the first draught, and in a few weeks the thin form, with the slow, faint pulse, is as a new person, and the color is seen coming to the cheek.