Bewra faa
Bellefonte, Pa., March 3, 1899.
THE OLD HYMNS.
There's lots 0’ musie in em the hymns of long
ago,
An’ when some gray-haired brother sings the
ones I used to know
1 sorter want to take a hand—I think o’ days gone
by.
“On Jordan's stormy banks I stand and cast a
wistful eye.”
There's lots 0’ music in ’em—those dear, sweet
hymns of old,
With visions bright of lands of light, and shining
streets of gold:
And I hear em ringing—singing, where Mem’ry,
dreaming, stands,
“From Greenland’s icy mountains to India’s coral
strands.
They seem to =ing forever of holier, sweeter
days,
When the lilies of the love of God bloomed white
in all the ways;
And I want to hear their music from the old time
meetin’s rise
Till “I ean read my title clear to mansions in the
skies.”
We never needed singin’ books in them old days,
we knew
The words—the tunes of every one the dear old
hymn book through!
We didn’t have no trumpets then—no organs
built for show;
We only sang to praise the Lord “from whom all
blessings flow.”
An’ =o I loved the old hymns, and when my time
shall come—
Before the light has left me, and my singing lips
are dumb—
If I can only hear ’em then, I'll pass without a
sigh
“To Canaan’s fair and happy land, where my pos-
sessions lie!”
— Atlanta Constitution.
THE MYSTERY CONNECTED WITH
MRS. JESSOP.
The sensation Mrs. Jessop’sadvent made
at Sudbury was incalculable. There had
not been a new settler in the neighborhood
for a quarter of a century; there was no
reason why there should be new settlers,
as the community was altogether self-suf-
ficing. No doubt there were changes that
were imperative, as in vicars or doctors or
curates, but the newcomers always arrived
with credentials of some sort, and were ac-
cepted, after reflection, as a matter of
course. But a strange woman, coming no
one knew whence, without even a servant
with her, and taking the only vacant house
of any standing in the parish, and that
without consulting any one, certainly gave
scope for considerable comment.
People thought Mr. Girdwood, the pro-
prietor, owed it to his old friends not to
have let his house without searching in-
quiries regarding the intending occupant,
if it were only to satisfy legitimate curios-
ity. But Mr. Girdwood, who was really
vulgar, only slapped bis pocket when re-
monstrated with, and said Mrs. Jessop was
all right in that quarter; that she paid
without a murmur the rent he asked (but
never expected to receive), and that she
was to be responsible for all the repairs.
“That is credentials enough for me,’’ the
man added, with the chuckle that Miss
Blyth considered quite horrid.
x
Certainly Mrs. Jessop engaged servants
at Sudbury, and these, as in duty bound,
told everything they could discover about
her on their evenings out; but that was
not as good as earlier records. The lady
evidently had loads of money, and such
dainty personal possessions as Sudbury con-
sidered sheer waste and sinful extrava-
gance; and she had photographs of friends,
and she spoke incidentally now and then
of her parents and her early home; but she
received no letters as far as Sudbury could
elicit, and in all the house there was no
portrait of Mr. Jessop that the maid serv-
ants could discover.
That the stranger intended to be a per-
manent resident and not a bird of passage
was obvious, forshe fell on that respectable
Sudbury house in a way that the neigh-
hors considered perfectly savage, clawed
the heart out of it, made one room into
two or two into one as fast as not, put a
hall where the parlor had been, and threw
the hall into the drawing-room, filled the
sensible gable windows with stained glass,
and otherwise juggled with its character in
a manner Sudbury had never dreamed of.
* *
Then she did not buy a single stick of
furniture at Nutford, where Sudbury had
furnished for centuries, but had everything
sent in vans from London, if you please,
after which her correspondence began
briskly enough. Sudbury was suspicious,
was even indignant, but over and above all
else, Sudbury was terribly curious.
Who could the stranger be? What
could she be? Was she an adventuress?
She had opened a banking account at Nut-
ford, so that item: was satisfactory. But
the questions remained—was she respecta-
ble, and was she quite right in her head ?
There were many people who were not
mad enough for incarceration, that yet were
a little touched; again there were quite
mad people who had cunningly eluded
suspicion for years, only rolling their eyes
and wearing straws in their hair in private.
Was Mrs. Jessop a criminal? Was she a
lunatic, or was she merely an interesting
and highly respectable middle-aged lady ?
Mrs. Brown, the Doctor’s wife, was con-
sidered the fitting person to solve this
doubt. She could pay a visit that would
be regarded as semi-professional in case she
decided that Mrs. Jessop was not a person
whose acquaintance it would he advanta-
geous to the ladies of the neighborhood to
cultivate. 4
*
Five spinsters therefore called on Mis.
Brown, and had tea in her cozy sitting-
room, while they sent her forth on her voy-
age of discovery, most of them waiting in
the window recess to watch for her return.
Mrs. Brown came back with a little flut-
ter of interest in her bearing. Mrs. Jessop
was quite sane—in her opinion rather nice,
she said; but certainly her house could
only be characterized as remarkable.
The auditors asked for some particulars.
“Well, you see, the wallsare red, and blue
and green and yellow.”
The assembled ladies expressed the ut-
most astonishment.
‘And there are lamps standing on the
floor, and palm trees on tables, and single
curtains sticking straight out from the
walls on poles, and a rug in the hall, and
no rug at the drawing room hearth.’’
“Then she must be mad,” Miss May-
thorn said most positively.
‘‘She talked quite rationally,”” Mrs.
Brown maintained; “and I must say—yes,
I must say, though I never saw anything
like it before--that the house is not ugly.”
Then all the ladies determined to call,
but on the same afternoon, because it was
always possible that Mrs. Brown was mis-
taken, and that Mrs. Jessop was mad; in
which case, if she proved violent, it would
be feasible to give an alarm hefore she had
killed more than two or three of them.
But they would not enter all together, as
that might render the lady suspicious, and
precipitate the catastrophe; two would go
first, and the others would follow at short
intervals.
* %*
Mrs. Jessop was, however, quite sane; a
pretty, elderly, retiring and rather nervous
little woman, with somewhat deprecating
manners, who, apart from her peculiar
house, would have been unnoticeable.
That the house embodied the newest idea
in modern art furnishing was quite un-
known to the ladies of Sudbury, who
wanted to be patronizing and friendly, but
in their profound surprise, stared and
spoke jerkily.
‘‘She must have heaps and heaps of
money,’’ Miss Grey. said in an awed tone,
as the ladies returned home together.
Miss Blackwood wondered how she had
made it, and Miss Blyth said it had been
inherited from her husband, no doubt,
husbands being much the easiest means to
a satisfactory income. Then the ladies be-
gan to wonder what Mr. Jessop had been,
it being a foregone conclusion that he no
longer was.
From the first Mrs. Jessop had aroused
interest; in the end she attained popularity
for she was anxious to please, and, in spite
of her possessions, had a humble and con-
ciliatory way with her, which led the
shrewdest of her new friends to opine that
the late Mr. Jessop had been something of
a Tartar.
Regarding that gentleman curiosity
could elicit nothing, and better-class Sud-
bury had too much nice feeling to permit
itself the liberty of direct questions. ‘I
am sure he treated her badly, and she
will not say sonow he is gone,’”’- Miss
Blyth averred, when several curious
touches had found only a wall of silence in
front of Mrs. Jessop’s matrimonial expe-
riences.
‘It is much worse to have a bad husband
than to have no husband at all,’’ Miss
Grey said wisely, with the air of a discov-
erer.
Once Mrs. Girdwood had asked Mis.
Jessop if she had ever had any children,
and the latter answered, ‘‘No, never!’ in
a tone that implied indignation at the
question.
Now and then Sudbury was a little in-
dignant that Mrs. Jessop made mysteries.
Why could she not tell the neighbors all
about herself, as they would have told her
all about each other? They couldn’t un-
derstand it.
Fy
But impersonal indignation will wane in
time if not fostered. Mrs. Jessop was
hospitable, generous, and had the nicest
taste in social matters. With her means,
no doubt she could have entertained lav-
ishly, but she reciprocated the hospitalities
of Sudbury in the Sudbury way—a cup of
tea in the drawing-room, with music, con-
versation and cards subsequently, and a
sandwich and a glass of wine in the bed-
room for ladies who stayed late and far to
go, and toddy and biscuits handed round
for the gentlemen.
The pretty house and Mrs. Jessop’s con-
ciliatory manners made these parties very
popular, so that her invitations were ouly
declined under pressure of death or irreme-
diable disaster. No doubt the lady had a
secret and a sorrowful page in her history;
but if she chose to keep it to herself the
village had no right to be resentful.
Every one liked to call on Mrs. Jessop
and have a chat, she was so sympathetic,
so sure to be interested in any local charity ;
indeed, not one of her tea-parties failed to
be followed by several afternoon teas,
when her guests came back to tell her how
hospitable she had heen.
By-and-by it began to be noticed that
one person called two or three times after
Mrs. Jessop’s parties, and stayed much
longer than was altogether polite if you
went by etiquette, and this was the curate,
Mr. Garthorpe, a young man no longer, as
curates ought to be, but a man who had
somehow been overlooked when prefer-
ment went to others. It always pained
Sudbury to think that Mr. Garthorpe was
quite twenty years older than the vicar,
but as this did not depress the good man
himself, it would not have been in good
taste to condole with him.
The curate was a large, fair man, with
handsome features, a little coarsened by
time and reddened by an outdoor life; he
had an abundance of grayish auburn hair,
that had a ripple in it and was worn long,
and he dressed with a careless clericalism
that seemed to say his dandy days were
over and he did not care who knew it.
In Sudbury the curate’s want of youth
did not matter, because among the better-
class residents the absence of youth was a
conspicuous circumstance. Indeed, there
were times when the curate would have
liked to be old enough to be indifferent to
female society, or to be fearless of having
intentions mistakenly attributed to his
small courtesies.
Mr. Garthorpe would have much enjoyed
an hour’s chat now and then with Miss
Grey or Miss Blyth; but these ladies,
though elderly, lived at home with their
relatives, and had mothers or sisters who
somehow always impressed it on him that
he was expected soon to declare his feel-
ings.
Mrs. Jessop was differently circum-
stanced. She was no older than Miss
Blyth, but she had seen more, had been
married and widowed, and was therefore
less fanciful and emotional. She was not
likely to misunderstand friendly inter-
course, and she had no relatives to gossip
over his civilities—the civilities he liked
to confer on all women.
Therefore, Mr. Garthorpe called a good
many times at Mrs. Jessop’s; indeed,
called so often, and stayed so long now
and then, that Mrs. Jessop had got into
the habit of regarding one particular seat
in the elegant drawing-room as Mr. Gar-
thorpe’s chair. :
‘I come so often because I cannot have a
chat otherwise,’ he explained once.
*‘Other people can have the pleasure of en-
tertaining you, but a single man, with a
housekeeper who has ways of her own, is
excluded from the delight of hospitality.’
Mrs. Jessop assured Mr. Garthorpe that
he was always heartily welcome, could not
come too often, was really kind to take
pity on her lonelinesss; she liked to feel
she had real friends at Sudbury, she had
been so long without that assurance.
‘I suppose you have not had a settled
home lately ?*’
‘Not for twenty years,” Mrs. Jessop
answered; whereat Mr. Garthorpe sur-
mised privately that the late Mr. Jessop
must have been in the army. Nothing
else could explain a roving life so well.
“A life of continued travel must be wea-
Concluded on page 6.
THE MOUNTAINS AND PLAINS
OF COLORADO.
Cripple Creek, the Klondike of America.—A Day Amid the Gold Crested Tips of
the Rockies.—Royally Entertained by the Local Press Clubs.—A
Metropolitan City in a Frontier Setting—Anaconda,
Victor and Altman.
In the preceding chapter of this story of the Mountains and Plains of Colorado I
told of the memorable day spent in and ahout Colorado Springs, Manitou, the Garden
of the Gods, Cheyenne Canon and the awe inspiring journey to the top of Pikes Peak.
All of which was brought to a delightful end by the reception and smoker at the Kin-
nekinick club in the former city. With the melody of one of the sweet ballads
which Percy Hemus had sung that night lulling my morning sleep it is little wonder
that I had the nearest thing to murder in my heart when Alonzo, our porter, waken-
ed me just as we were running into the Cripple Creek region on Wednesday, Septem-
ber 14th. We had left Colorado Springs at 4 o’clock in the morning, making the run
over the Colorado Midland and the Midland Terminal. The great Continental Divide
was passed at too early an hour to get any idea of the scenery in crossing the main
range of the Rockies. In fact, most of our runs through the mountain regions were
made at night in order to give us the day light in which to see the mining camps that
flourish or wither according as they mark nature’s hidden yellow or white metals. It
seemed strange, in passing from the inert and disheartened camps about Georgetown
and Silver Plume into the bustling. expectant Cripple Creek that the mere misinter-
pretation of the meaning of the word ‘‘coin’’ by the heads of the treasury department
since Dan Manning’s time should cause such a blight to fall on one of nature’s
precious gifts, while stimulating the other to an unnatural value. :
I can think of no better comparison to make of the appearance of the country we
were penetrating than to say that it reminded me of the run over the Alleghenies from
Vail to Osceola Junction. Except that we were 9,396 feet above sea level and there
was very little timber to be seen anywhere, notwithstanding we were right in the
heart of the mountains. The train was winding around the crests of knobs that had
looked like billows in a great ocean, as seen from the top of Pike's Peak the day be-
fore. Tracks were shooting down the mountain sides at tangents and little camps
seemed to nestle in every hollow that was large enough to hold a cabin or two.
Hanging onto the sides of the abrupt hills that seemed to kiss the skies on our right
were prospectors cabins, just the same as had been seen all along the Clear Creek
canon. But here the signs of fresh workings and new dirt banks that marked the
opening of every claim were in significant contrast with the weather bleached,
abandoned ones in the silver region.
The train was met at the station at Cripple Creek by the local press club,
which had been constituted a committee of reception, and from the number of people
wearing badges, the impression must have been prevalent among our party that the
whole population had resolved itself into a committee of entertainment. Bot when
it is recalled that Cripple Creek is a city of 23,000 or more souls the fallacy of such a
thought was apparent. Headed by a martial band of forty boys, all dressed in white
duck suits and playing fife and drum like veterans, though they were merely young-
sters, we went to the National hotel and had breakfast. That it was able to seat our
entire section, numbering two hundred, in the dining room and serve each person as
though such a crowd were an everyday occurrence will give you an idea of the kind of
hotels Cripple Creek boasts. I was amazed at the place. There was a city, with
great, fine looking business blocks, busy streets, trolley cars shooting hither and
thither, where I had really expected to find a jumble of miners shanties. It was as if
some new eastern municipality had been picked up by magic and set among the
Rockies, without a stroke of preparation having been made for the site.
After we had eaten the appetizing breakfast which Col. Taylor's chef had pre-
pared at the order of the press club I started out to take a look at the city before
the was It was strange to
such substantial, well appointed buildings in a place that called itself merely a camp.
But when we remember that it is the largest gold camp in the world there is signif-
icance if not dignity in the name. Everything had the appearance of the East except
the people—they differed only in their apparel—the streets and the endless mountains.
Bennett avenue, the principal thoroughfare of the city has two elevations. One side
of it is about forty feet higher than the other for several squares and to keep people
from falling off the pavement on the upper side and rolling into the plate glass win-
dows of the stores on the lower they have made the drive ways on two levels, a re-
taining wal lin the middle holding the upper one up. In all directions it is corrngated
by waddies, the deep dry beds through which the melting snows from the mountains
rush in the spring time. These serve the purpose of sewers and general dumps, but
It muss
be remembered, however, that Cripple Creek is perched on the ends of several mount-
ain knobs that radiate from its site as a common centre and these natural drains are
evidently necessaries that cannot be abridged.
We must have been just as much of curiosities to the people out thers as the place
was to us, for the streets were jammed with men, women and children. It was a sort of
gala day and everybody had on their Sunday manners. At least, that is what I would
call it, but I am not so sure about the difference of Sunday from any other day in
Cripple Creek.
visiting mines. Every turn a revelation. see
they are uncovered and give the place the appearance of extreme newness.
There were hordes of fine looking, robust men in corduroys, with
their trouser legs tucked into high laced russet boots and wearing the broad rimmed,
low, white hats affected by the ultra easterner to-day. All typical western miners,
but as none of them offered to poke a big gun under my nose while demanding the
little ‘‘stuff”’ I had left from the ‘‘fan-tan’’ sharks on our car, I felt that my story of
the camp, that is a household word in every quarter of the globe, wouid necessarily
have to be devoid of any of the dime novelist’s thrilling experiences. It was not to
be wondered at, for, using Alexander Hamilton’s words, all they had to do was to
‘strike the rock of national resources and abundant streams of currency’ would
“flow forth.”” The ‘‘rock’’ is every where about them and you need but refer to the
government records of the gold producing regions to see how lavish the yellow stream is.
The committee of the whole wasso obliging that every questioner had are spectful
audience and information sought was cheerfully given. Even the little boys
on the streets took a kindly and considerate interest in the grand inquisition that we
were holding there that day. I saw five of them scramble onto a sad eyed looking lit-
tle burro, merely to please a young lady who wanted to take their picture and the en-
during beast didnt even kick when a sixth could no longer stick onto the root of its
tail and slipped down under its heels.
A day could have been very pleasantly spent on the streets of Cripple Creek study-
ing the heterogeneous types of its population, but the time came for the visit to the
mines and I fell in with division B, which was under the patronage of Sam W. Vidler,
president of the local press club, and headed for the famous Gold Hill tunnel.
tunnels are the openings that run back under the mountains and from which the var-
ious veins are worked. This particular one was exactly like the slopes in our bitumin-
ous coal mines—A small track for mine cars, props, pillars and all. Equipped with a
lantern made of a tin can and a candle we penetrated to a distance of 3,160 feet. Pass-
ing, every here and there, a miner who was chiseling the gold bearing rock out of veins
that ranged from three to six inches thick. The work appeared decidedly slow,
but it is profitable nevertheless. Many of the reception committee were as much inter-
ested as we were ourselves, for the mines are not open to the public and some of the
old residenters were that day having their first glimpse of the interior workings. Go-
ing further into the tunnel we reached the Anchoria-Leland shaft which ran to the
surface, 600 ft. above. It had been the intention to hoist us on the elevators to the
upper levels, which were being worked from this shaft, but there were more people
than the elevators could accommodate, so we sat down at the end of the tunnel and,
like Dicken’s Micawber, ‘‘waited for something to turn up.’” Sam Vidler tried his
best to make us believe we were having a good time, but, versatile as he is, he ran out
of stories at length and the murmuring of the multitude was just beginning to have
an ominous portent for him when there was a rattle at the foot of a ladder about thirty
feet down deeper in the earth and it was announced that the elevator was ready for its
first load. The tunnel ended abruptly at a well about twenty-feet square and thirty
deep. At the bottom of the well the hoisting engine and pumps supplying air to the
various workings are located. We scrambled down the ladder, delighted that, at last,
we were to be lifted out of our underground prison, but imagine the dismay of that
crowd when it was discovered that an elevator would hold only five persons. There
was but one thingto be thankful for then, it was that the entire party had not
followed the bell weather into the Gold Hill tunnel, for had such been the case our
train would have been snow-bound while waiting for the last of them to be lifted out.
There was desperate romance in that lift. Isaw it at once. The elevator was
nothing more than a 4x5 platform with 3 ft. uprights at two sidesand a beam across
The
their tops, to which the cable was fastened. The load was placed on either side the
beam, the passengers facing one another, and when all was ready there was a hiss and
a jerk and up we went. It was dark as a stygian night and whose business was it or
who-was the wiser if a frightened maiden on the opposideside of the beam grabbed
someone around the neck and hung on with all the desperateness of despair until the
rattle of the trap door at the surface, lifting to let the elevator out, sent her into a
swoon from which she opportunely recovered, just as a flood of daylight shot down
upon us.
Once on the surface we looked about the dump buildings, drank the ever present
ginger champagne and then Sam Vidler carried out the tail end of the Duke of York-
+hire’s famous cantico by marching us down the hill. Getting down a Colorado hill
is no easy job, but we got there; having passed the famous Anaconda opening on the
way. Itis the largest vein in the region and has been worked out to the surface,
leaving a zigzag fissure, from ten to twenty feet wide, that seems as thongh some
mighty monster had ripped open a great mountain to get at the bowels of the earth.
The Anaconda camp lies at the foot of the hill and there we took a Florence and
Cripple Creek train—all trains over that road were running free that day—for Victor,
another rich camp and one that is bidding high for some of Cripple Creek’s notoriety.
It was lunch time and the ladies of the camp were waiting on us at the hotel, so we
ate and were happy once more. There were several mines at Victor to be visited but
after the experience in the Gold Hill tunnel everyone declined with assurances of hav-
ing had a sufficiency, except those delegates who were hunting for something to carry
off and had their car sections littered with everything from a Loveland cornstalk to a
worthless Cripple Creek rock, that some joking committeeman had whispered to them
was a wonderfully *‘rich specimen’’ that must be kept from the vision of the miners
at the surface.
Different delegations visited Altman, the highest incorporated town in the United
States, Independence and Goldfield during the afternoon. All of them are flourishing
camps with propositions that are keeping their owners busy clipping coupons, but I
decided to stay in Victor. During the course of a conversation with a resident he re-
marked that he was slightly disappointed in the character of the men of our party.
As near as I could follow what he was trying to convey in a very gingerly manner I
concluded that he was disappointed because the crowd was sober. According to his
idea such a great party of editors ought to have had the whole Cripple Creek region
drank dry by that time, instead of being cold sober. I discovered why when I start-
ed out to **look around a little’”’ with him. Every ‘‘club’’ or ‘‘casino’”’ we entered
was nothing more than a well appointed commissary department for liquids, light
lunch and cigars. Everything was free as air. They were hauling the money out of
the hills in cart loads and wouldn’t take oursat all. It was like going through a Ger-
man brewery, if you didn’t drink at every spigot you were guilty of a gross breach of
etiquette. Don’t worry, I was there only to see and tell you all about it, but the im-
pression my ‘‘going shy’’ on everything must have made on my entertainer didn’t car-
rv for the whole crowd, for he soon found a more congenial spirit. It was from the
Pennsylvania car that he was hunted out, but he proved the ‘‘noblest Roman of them
all.” In fact Sam Vidler whispered as our train pulled out that night: *‘If she hadn’t
left just when she did our West Virginia friend would have had all of Victor drunk.”
He was a banker, a lawyer and a newspaper man all in one A gentleman through-
out his seventy-three inches of stature and 250 lbs. avoirdupois. But he was too large
a proposition for the quondam West Virginians who turned up to drink his health as
numerous as flies in berry time.
I I
As briefly as can be stated the origin and development of the Cripple Creek re-
gion is as follows:
ORIGIN OF CRIPPLE CREEK.
In 1859, during the Pike’s Peak excitement, gold was discovered in this section, but
the prospectors were looking for formation, and not being familiar with the geographical
condifons, passed by these rounded hills upon their onward rush to the main range be-
yond.
Thirty-two years later again public attention was attracted to the gold that was occa-
sionally found in its free state in the gulches. Prospectors began to uncover rich material
but the world would not believe the predictions that began to he made by the cattlemen
and cowpunchers who roamed the hills with their herds. In 1891 the first practical re-
sults became manifest in Poverty gulch on the El Paso claim. The first shipment was
made from this mine in this year, and prospectors began to come to this region, a townsite
being located under the name of Fremont. These first prospectors, as usual, comprised
the unfortunate of various sections of the country and brought no means for the develop-
ment of the district, in spite of which the production of the camp for the first few months
of its existence amounted in 1891, in fact, to not less than 10,000 ounces, or $200,000. Up
to this time the region had been known as an excellent grazing country, and the owners of
the ranch were for some time loth to credit the fact that gold paying quantities had been
discovered. People began to come in from Colorado Springs, and soon the people of that
city who could afford to grubstake began to operate, and hundreds of these men who
were poor then are now among the ntillionaires of the State. Colorado Springs’ faith in
the future of this section contributed to its success and great mines producing millions an-
nually are owned by her people.
At this time the old trails over the mountains were used by the freighters, and more
ready access v as had by the way of the Divide, from which stages ran. Stages also came
in from Florence and Canon City, usually requiring seven or eight hours for the trip.
The little community on the banks of what became known as Cripple Creek began to grow
and the trend of development went west from Poverty gulch, and for the mining the
trend was southeast, centering on Battle and Bull mountains. Divide was the nearest rail-
road station, distant twenty miles, and 101 miles from Denver. The heavy expenses of
hauling supplies of all kinds from this station into the camp, and hanling out the ore,
made it impossible during 1891 and 1892 to market ores that ran less than two and a half
ounces, or $50 per ton. Nine-tenths of the product was shipped to the smelting works at
Denver and Pueblo, and the cost of mining, transportation and treatment ranged from $30
to $35 per ton. In spite of these drawbacks, however, the output advanced and showed a
total production of $87,310, or 20,360 ounces, for the year 1892.
Notwithstanding the output was estimated at half a million and over, the public was
still skeptical as to the permanency of the district, so that the first six months of 1893
showed but little advance. In June the closing of the Indian mints to the coinage of sil-
ver was immediately responded to in the United States by closing down of the great ma-
jority of the silver mines of the western States, in which Colorado took the lead ; so many
experienced miners being thus suddenly thrown out of employment in their regular fields
was a ‘benefit to the Cripple Creek mining region, and the latter part of 1893 be-held a
large influx of population, many of whom were skilled miners and prospectors. Added to
this the first discovery of pay ore in the Portland mine became known, and the Independ-
ence, which have been two of the greatest producers of the district. The total output
for the year 1893 was estimated at 100,520 ounces, or $2,010,400. The town of Cripple
Creek began to expand and the city of West Cripple Creek began to take form. The pop-
ulation was then about 800. Other towns began to spring up among the hills, notably
Victor, and plans for electric light, water and gas systems and railroad connection with
the outside world began to assume tangible shape.
The year following the great strike ensued, which gave a drawback to developments,
nevertheless the expiration of that year saw a substantial increase in the production, the
output reaching a total for the year of $3,250,000, or 162,500 ounces. Public opinion began
to change, and Denver, which had been so indifferent to Cripple Creek, began to move. It
was too late, however, as the capital of Colorado Springs had already obtained a firm foot-
hold and values within the gold belt went kiting to such an extent that investors from
Denver, and the East, if they invested at all, were compelled to pay the prices prevailing.
Capital that was invested in the other fields continued active, however, and day and night
the railroads were pushed toward the camp, and on July 2nd, 1894, the first train was run
out of Cripple Creek upon the Florence & Cripple Creek railroad.
Although this was the period of the panic, there was no difficulty in securing the
needed funds for this improvement. The Midland Terminal was pushing fast to the city
and was completed in December. The completion of this railroad rendered available
cheaper fuel and supplies of various kinds, and a cheaper transportation to the valley
smelters. so that a lower grade of ore became profitable, and the year 1895 witnessed a
great advance and expansion in the mining industry and all branches of trade con-
nected therewith. In this year also the fame of the district began to go abroad, reaching
London and other financial centers of the old world, and asserting the right of Cripple
Creek to be considered as a favorable field for mining investment, even in the heighth of
the South African boom. Leading mining engineers of the world were sent by their
clients to examine and report upon the right of this youngest of the mining camps of the
West to assert such claims, and most of them returned with the report that the average
value of the ore was astonishingly high and scarcely equalled by any other mining district
of the world, but that the permanency of the mines and their continued values as greater
depth was obtained was still somewhat uncertain. The total production for the year 1895
was 348,500 ounces, or $6,970,000, considerably more than twice as much as the preceding
year.
The year 1896 showed a continued increase although two great fires destroyed the city
in a few hours. This was April 26th and 29th, three days apart, the first conflagation
burning the east end of the city from Third street, and the second sweeping from First
and Meyers in a fan-like course, destroying the unburnt portion, leaving but a few shacks
and some isolated houseson the outskirts. By these fires 15,000 people were left home-
less. but with characteristic energy the city began to rebuild, and the mines going on with
equal persistency, the district was one of the busiest places in the country, laborers receiv-
ing $3 per day, and the uniform rate for skilled mechanics $5 to $8 per day. During this
year the leasing system among the miners came into vogue and the result was the devel-
opment of the great mines, notably the Anchoria-Leland. The total production for the
year was in round numbers $10,000,000 or 500,000 ounces. The population of the district
felt the impulse and rapidly grew to 40,000, the city of Victor becoming a community of
8,000 souls.
With the year of 1897 the remarkable output of $1,000,000 per month was attained,
with an aggregate output of $12,000.000. This year also marked the widening area of the
gold belt, taking in Beacon hill and extending to the northwest of Copper mountain.
The splendid city of Cripple Creek was completed with a population of 20,000. The big
mines have in some instances extended their area and almost in every instance have with-
drawn their property from lessees and are developing themselves. During the year the
Gold Coiu has become a great producer, although but 500 feet had been attained in depth,
It was during this year that the town of Cripple Creek and the city of West Cripple
Creek voted a consolidation and the two communities became one. The city election that
followed confirmed this and a city of the second class was constituted, with Hon. George
Pearce, mayor. In this way the city of Cripple Creek has kept pace with the district and
the two have gone hand in hand. They will thus continue their onward march.
The unprecedented yield of 1893 and the bonanza strikes of the past few months have
again set the tide of argaunauts flowing into that territory, so that no man can prophesy
what the future of its aladdin like growth will be.
I I I
We left Victor that night about eight o’clock thoroughly charmed with the people
we had met, grateful for their lavish hospitality and impressed with the evidence of
the wealth that underlies the hills we were surmounting. The day was not done,
however, for a stop was to be made at Gillette, where the great reduction works of
the region is located. The town is the first one that discovers itself to the traveler on
entering and our plan had been to stop there first, but circumstances alter cases and it
was long after the day had closed that we reached the spot where the gold ore is re-
duced for the smelters. The reduction process is very simple, when once seen, and
the owners of the Gillette plant made our visit as pleasant as possible. They reward-
ed the climbing of innumerable steps by a wine lunch in the company’s office then
started us down again, through the works, keeping nothing from our view. First the
cars from which the gold bearing ore was being wheeled into the crushers, then the
crushers that grind the rock into dust as fine as flour, next the carriers that convey it
into the roasting ovens, for this is a chlorination process and the ores have to
be roasted which is not the case by the cyanide process, before being carried
into the vats containing a solution of chloride of lime and sulphuric acid into
which it is dumped. In this solution the pulverized ore is allowed to remain until the
acids have dissolved all of the ground rock, leaving the gold to float and deposit itself
on small particles of charcoal that cover the surface of the chloride liquor in each vat.
A chemical test of the acid discloses the absence of all gold in it and the reducer
knows that the precious ingredient has been extracted from the rock and the charcoal
depositories are raked off and ready to be shipped to the smelters with their yellow
freight. That is all there is to the process and, having seen it, we said good-bye to
the Cripple Creck country, probably forever, and went back to our cars to continue
the journey, each day of which was a revelation and delight. GEo. R. MEEK.