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 morning, while preparing breakfast, two other Indians appeared and asked for something to eat. We did not hesitate to share with them, and they eat greedily. I might here remark that during the whole of our extended journey, notwithstanding that we were often approached by the hungry Indian as well as white man, we never refused to share eat and drink, no matter how scanty our supply.

Having heard so much about Leadville for the last few months, and seeing such vast numbers of emigrants daily winding their way to the mountain of wealth, we concluded to give it a visit also. We could hear the whistles blow, and see great columns of smoke rising from between the hills when we were yet fully fifteen miles away. We began to see dead horses and mules by the way; and as we proceeded the numbers increased until within a mile or so of the place the way was literally strewed with dead animals; and there was not a spear of grass left for our horses to graze. We at length arrived at the great center of excitement; but the scene I can not describe. The place lies between two ridges, and is nine thousand feet above the level of the sea. No costly mansions, built with time and care, adorn the place, and no spacious business blocks, with their beautiful polished fronts, are seen; but the great mining metropolis of the Union stands with her hastily-reared cabins among the green stumps of the late forest, and her hundreds of tents glitter upon the hill-sides that have been left rugged by the spade of the hungry miner. Snow glistens upon the crests of the high mountains in every direction. Its cold breath brings chill to the camp, and the nights are very cold.

The population is estimated at twenty thousand; and with fully one half of these miserably located in wagons, and insufficient coverings, there is much misery. Like unto the finding of gold at the discovery of America, the populace had been excited far and near, and the greedy seekers of the precious metal came rushing to this find in the cold, bleak mountains like perishing cattle to the pool. West-bound trains were every day behind time with their terrible loads of people, who did not consider that there could be no accommodations in a place so rapidly sprung, and the consequences were hunger and exposure. This resulted in disease; and at one time many were daily swept away by pneumonia. The horses, too, standing unsheltered upon the mountain-slopes by the hundreds, with no pasture but the green twigs of the fallen trees, and the little feed that some of their owners could afford to buy, contracted diseases; and the town was literally surrounded with dead animals. Many poor men, depending upon their teams for support, were entirely broken up. Persons coming by wagons usually had a small stock of provisions and beds along; but the thousands who came from the East by rail were at the mercy of those who were prepared to board and lodge. There were boarding-tents stuck upon the hill-sides, and, though all could not be accommodated, meals were from one to two dollars apiece. There were other lodging-cabins, and this was from fifty to one dollar per night. I have seen persons who just came from the East, and not wishing to peril their health by exposure in the cold night-air of the mountain, offer five dollars for a comfortable night’s lodging. They had plenty of money, but the accommodation was not to be had; and many a person from a good, warm bed lay here shivering in the folds of a single thin blanket, and paid an exorbitant price for the privilege. There was one large hall, which was built at the beginning of the excitement, and which now rented at seventeen hundred dollars per month. It was used as a saloon, and had two bars, with two tenders and a cashier behind each; and day and night the drinks were issued as fast as these men could tend. The spare part of the hall was let out to lodgers; and persons paid fifty cents per night to wrap themselves in their own blankets and sleep spoon-fashion upon the floor. The floor was covered every night. It would be difficult to even imagine the amount this firm daily realized. There being no railroad here, everything had to be freighted in over rough mountain-roads, and of course was very high. There was but one route by which a railroad could reach the place, and that was up the grand canon of the Arkansas; and this was just wide enough for one track. The Denver & Rio Grande and Atchison, Topeka & Santa Fe companies both saw the great prospect for a road to Leadville, and they both began to extend their tracks. They came to the canon at the same time, and a quarrel arose as to which should enter. Each company employed squads of men to guard its workmen, and gave them five dollars per day; but great bowlders would tumble down the canon from several hundred feet above, and thud heavily in the waters below whenever work was begun. This war was waged for some time, during which several men were killed. At length United States troops were called to the scene, and General Sherman came out to quell the war. The matter was taken to court, and after a decision in favor of the Denver & Rio Grande Railroad the little narrow-gauge wound up the gorge to the town.

Persons who bought property here at the early stage of the excitement suddenly rose to men of wealth; for a lot in the heart of town was worth far more than a lot in the center of Dayton, Ohio. Many shrewd persons made fortunes here, in various ways; and some lost all they had. I will venture that there are many returned to the East with Leadville experience to-day who will consider before they rush wildly to another find in the cold, bleak mountain in the winter-season.

In connection with this sketch of Leadville I feel constrained also to add something that will doubtless be interesting to many, as showing the physical and financial ability of woman as well as Leadville opportunities. Mrs. Sallie Ray, known as the Leadville washer-woman, has to-day an income of thirty thousand dollars per annum, owning property in Leadville that rents for two thousand dollars per month. The following is a brief history of this wonderful woman: She was born in the north of Ireland in the year 1830, and came to New York when she was fifteen years of age. She there married a book-keeper named Joseph Ordway. He soon died, and she went west to Leavenworth, Kansas. From there she went to Denver, and finally, in 1867, to Leadville. In Denver she married a man named Frank Hay; but he died soon after, leaving to her a daughter, Cora, now a pretty girl of about seventeen years. Her career has been a peculiarly eventful and exciting one, and would doubtless make an interesting little volume. She has dug in mines, fought in Indian wars by the side of her husband, scoured the plains on horseback as a scout, and became an expert at the business. She braved the dangers and storms of winter, where Leadville now stands, before there were houses to inhabit; and she says she used to keep Cora wrapped up in warm blankets, day and night, to keep her from freezing. She helped found the city of Leadville, mapped roads, built houses, and took in washing from the miners. When the place became settled, the land she had taken up turned into a fortune; and as the silver rattled down the wash-board she felt herself growing rich. She weighs about one hundred and forty pounds. Having her property all in the hands of good agents, she is taking her ease.

There are constantly finds being made that create a great excitement at first; but in most cases they prove inferior to expectation, and soon die away. On the contrary, this has proved a good camp; and from the rich finds that are being made every once in awhile the whole town and its surroundings appear to be threaded with rich veins of silver-quartz. We were not greedy or in any wise excited, however, and concluded to leave the place and steer for Denver, the queen city of the West.

We passed down Chimney Gulch, the great natural pass through the towering Rocky Mountains, and in which roll the clear waters of a beautiful mountain-stream.

We camped one evening in this gulch, fifteen miles from Denver, and thought to try our hands at fishing. We never had success in fishing in clear waters, where the fish could see us; so, of course, we sought a place where the water was shaded. After finding a place where the water whirled into foam round a rock, and grass floated on the eddy, we cast our hooks; but in spite of the soft, delicious fat meat that we suspended there was nary a bite.

There were some fellows out from the city, also; and they, too, were fishing, but with better success. They came up to where we were; and seeing the place in which we were fishing and the bait we used, they burst into a hearty laugh, and asked us if we were not cat-fishers from Arkansas. Will was a little insulted at this remark, and told them that the fishers were all right but the darned fish were just like the people out west here—used to eating nothing but mud and grasshoppers, and did not know what meat was.

I was willing to be called anything, so I could catch fish; so I went to their wagon, and, finding that they had a nice bucket of trout, I decided to take a little piscatorial information. I learned that trout stayed only in clear water, and were from six inches to a foot in length. The fishing is usually done with a fly; that is, a little red feather tied just over the hook. When baiting is used, grasshoppers are the best; and meat will not do at all. Will was right. The hook is cast into the water where trout are seen, or where there are rocks or logs under which they are likely to be, and then dragged up and down to attract attention. The hook is sometimes drawn past the fish several times without notice, and of a sudden a dart is made at the fly or bait; and in either case he usually sticks.