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Dangers on the Trail
CHAPTER IV
DENVER IN 1865
THAT
period Denver was appropriately called the "City of the Plains." Situated
sixteen miles from the base of the nearest Rocky Mountain peak, and six hundred
and fifty miles from Atchison, Kansas, the nearest town to the East; while
seven hundred miles to the west loomed up as from the very bowels of the earth,
the beautiful city of the Mormons, Salt Lake City, Utah. The nearest forts--two
hundred miles distant--were Fort Cottonwood to the northeast, Collins to the
north and Halleck to the northwest. Its northern limits extended to the South
fork of the Platte River; Cherry Creek running through one-third, dividing
it into East and West Denver. Its population numbered about five thousand souls.
Here was to be found the illiterate man--but a grade
above the coyote--lawbreakers of every kind and from every land, to men of culture and refinement. Here it stood, a typical mining town, a monument to the indomitable energy of man in his efforts to settle that barren and almost endless plain and open to the world the Rocky's unlimited hidden gold. Here were brick structures modern for that day, the brick being made from the soil of the territory; a United States mint, a church, a school house, large warehouses, stores, and the home of the Rocky Mountain Daily News, which kept one partially in touch with happenings in the faraway states. Isolated from the outside world, it was an ideal place of refuge for those anxious to escape the out-rated law. Knights of the green cloth held full sway. Men in every walk in life gambled. A dead man for breakfast was not an uncommon heading for the menu card, the old tree on the west bank of Cherry. Creek furnishing the man. Society was just a little exclusive and to gain admission the pass was, "Where are you from?" and in some cases, "Your name in the East."
Desperadoes made one attempt to lay the city in ashes and certainly would have accomplished their purpose had it not been for the timely action of the Vigilance Committee in hanging the ring-leaders. When the guilt of a suspect for any crime was in doubt, he was presented with a horse or mule and ordered to leave between sun and sun and never return. During my four years of residence in Denver there was but one Indian scare and it made a lasting impression on the tablet of my memory. A church bell pealed forth the warning over the thirsty desert of an Indian attack. Business places were closed, the women and children were rushed to the mint and warehouses for protection, armed men surrounded the city, pickets on horseback were thrown out in every direction. Couriers kept thundering back and forth between picket line and those in command and others were despatched to the different Forts for assistance that never came. A look of determination stood out on the face of every one and not a man, from clergyman to desperado, within the
confines of the city who would not willingly have given up his life's blood to protect the honor of the women and lives of the little ones. For three weary days and the same number of nights the terrible suspense lasted, but no Indian came. It was a false alarm.
Denver, in its early settlement, was never attacked by the Indians except in isolated cases. The only reason that I ever heard given for their not doing so was that they knew not their strength, for there was no time in the sixties that they could not have swooped down on the place, massacred all and buried the little mining town in ashes.
SECURED WORK AGAIN
For a young man to obtain work other than oxen or mule driving, we were told, was simply impossible. Not being deterred, however, by this discouraging information we at once started out to secure work. Board was twenty-five dollars a week in gold, and you had to furnish your own sleeping quarters, so not to secure work at once would quickly reduce our wealth. We had
called on nearly all of the business places, when my chum secured a position with a grocer and freighter. As for myself, I received little encouragement but finally called at a large restaurant where I was offered work. I told the proprietor it was a little out of my line, but he told me that if I could not find a position to suit me, I should walk in at any time, pull off my coat and go to work, which I did three days later. About the tenth day the proprietor told me his lease expired and that the man who owned the building was going to conduct the business. He came in that afternoon, and I was introduced to him. Before leaving he stepped into the office and informed me that he wanted a man next to him; or, in other words, an assistant and that the former proprietor had given me a good recommend and he thought that I would suit him. He made me a tempting offer and I accepted. The restaurant was located on Blake street, one of the then principal business streets of the city, and kept open until early morning as did the gambling places
in the immediate vicinity. I soon discovered that the new proprietor could neither read or write and that he conducted one of the largest private club rooms in the city where gambling was carried on without limit. He paid me a large salary and allowed me everything my wild nature craved. I had charge of the entire business as well as his bank account.
The restaurant was the headquarters of nearly all oxen and mule drivers and also of the miners who came from the mountains in winter, and were of the toughest type of men of that day. All professional oxen and mule drivers after making one round trip to the river and points in the far Western territories were paid off in Denver and many of them would deposit with me, for safe keeping, a large share of their dangerously and hard arned dollars. They would then start out to do the town, now and then taking a chance at one of the many gambling games, always returning for more money, which I would give them; and this they would continue until all was expended ex-
cept enough to keep them a week, when sober, and a commission for doing the business, for which I was careful to look out. An individual who bore the name of "One Eye Jack" boarded with us and I could always depend upon him in time of trouble. His vocation for a long time was a mystery, until one evening, as I was passing down a side street, he popped out from an alley and with uplifted blackjack would have felled and robbed me had he not recognized the unearthly yell I gave. I forgave him, and afterwards he doubled his energies to protect me and on more than one occasion saved my life. When in his professional clothes he was a tough looking customer and could fight like a bull dog. He was always liberally supplied with someone else's money. Yet with all his bad traits, his word was as good as his gold; but like other similar individuals that infested Denver at that time, he finally went to the end of his tether, and was presented by the Vigilance Committee with a hemp collar that deprived him of his life.
Before his demise,
however, a party of ten tough-looking individuals entered the restaurant and,
in forceful language, demanded the best the country offered in eatables and
drink. My friend, or would-be-murderer, was in at the time and I noticed a
look of cunning pleasure steal over his rough countenance. The strangers were
dressed in corduroy trousers, velveteen coats, slouch hats and black ties.
Their shirts and collars of red flannel made a conspicuous appearance and caused
their undoing later. After seeing them well cared for, I returned to the office
and calling Jack inquired his opinion of the gents.
"Well," he replied, "I may be mistaken but I will just bet you a ten spot they are road agents." "Yes," I said, "I am inclined to agree with you, but keep mum."
You may think it strange I did not give this bold highwayman away; but life in those days was sweet and I had no desire to have that young life taken so I followed Commanche Bill's advice and strictly minded
my own business. If I had not, I would not be living today.
HIGHWAYMEN OF THE WEST
Two mornings later
on entering for breakfast one of the band had his head done up in a bandage.
From words he dropped I was satisfied that Jack or one of his cronies had been
improving their spare time by relieving him of his over abundance of gold.
The reckless manner in which they disposed of their money and their conversation
when flushed with wine betrayed their true characters and stamped them a murderous
band of mountain highwaymen who had made their headquarters in the fastnesses
of the Rockies, near the overland mountain trail and there devoted their time
to holding up stage coaches, compelling the driver with a shot from a carbine
to halt, descend, disarm and be quiet. The passengers were then ordered to
alight and stand in a row, continually being covered with guns by a part of
the band and by others relieved of their personal effects.
ROAD AGENTS HOLDING UP STAGE COACH
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© 2005 for the NEGenWeb Project by Pam Rietsch, Ted & Carole Miller |
