Happy Valley: A Promoter's Paradise

Being an Historic Sketch of Eldora, Colorado and Its Environs

by

DONALD C. KEMP and JOHN R. LANGLEY

Copyright 1945

With an Introduction by

CLYDE ROBERTSON

Noted Colorado Pen-Woman and Poetess

Illustrated with Contemporary Photographs

INTRODUCTION

Here is a true picture of the early days of the mining boom in Eldora and the surrounding district.

No one, unless personally acquainted with those times, and the people who pioneered, struggled, and worked with undaunted faith in the hills, who possesses a sympathetic understanding of human nature in the rough, could have put into words,a more interesting tale.

Don Kemp, and Jack Langley know their material first hand. Both are native Coloradoans. The former was born in Central City; the latter in Noland, a mining community some twenty-odd miles north of Boulder. Kemp's father, long a mining operator in Gilpin and Boulder Counties, prospected and located claims; promoted mining ventures which he, with those associated with him, were sure would bring them fortunes, if not fame. He in company with hundreds of other pioneers of those times—among them "Nick" Langley, Jack's father—spent the best years of their long, hardworking lives in the ever-elusive, ever-eluding search for gold, only to see those golden dreams go glimmering; and finally to die "broke!"

It was among such scenes that the authors grew up. Each saw the hills around Happy Valley (Eldora) at an early age. Saw the camp grow, the boom develop, flourish, die out. Knew the old-timers that peopled those hills, and made the boom; knew their manner of speech, and way of life.

The parents of the two boys moved to Boulder, educated their children and fitted them for the problems of life. The differing interests of the authors naturally led them in widely different paths through the years which followed. Kemp, for nearly eighteen years beginning in the first World War, was a Captain in the Regular Army, retiring in 1935. Langley too, served his country in that conflict. Upon his discharge he embarked in the "oil game" in Texas and Oklahoma; thence to the cattle ranges of northwest Colorado, where he owned and operated a ranch for more than fifteen years.

But through all these varied scenes and activities the love of the hills, born and ingrained in both boys, was ever urging and beckoning them. Don's father, more than fifty years ago, had built a comfortable, roomy log cabin in Happy Valley as headquarters for his mining operations. What more natural than that his son should return and live in it? This he has done, since 1937. Jack, impelled by the same urge, also returned, built a home. Both boys plan to remain in the locale of their early lives.

Colorado history will be richer for this authentic account of the Grand Island Mining District, and as "Time marches on," this book will be read and quoted as an authoritative glimpse of days long passed away.

[Ed. Note: Below is Jack Gilfillan's 1897 sketch map of the El Dorado District - click this map for a larger view in separate window]

PROLOGUE

ELDORA! A ghost town. A town which lived, and prospered. Died. Lived again. A town that boomed with all the noise and fireworks that you think a new mining camp should display. Then lasped peacefully into a beautiful summer-resort village, visited by hundreds, and loved by all who know it. At the peak of its career it was a lusty embryo city of over a thousand inhabitants. Mining fever gripped everyone. Prospectors combed the mountain sides with pick and shovel, drills and dynamite, in a mad scramble for wealth; each one seeking the great bonanza which would change him by the stroke of a pick, from pauper to plutocrat. Promoters were gambling on claim locations. Job presses worked overtime turning out flashy, craftily worded prospectuses, and beautifully engraved stock certificates; all especially designed to bleed the sucker of his hard-earned dimes and dollars.

With activity such as only the lure of gold can inspire, hundreds of locations were staked. Many of these were abandoned for others which seemed to show greater promise. At the peak of the boom so great was the excitement and so avid the desire of speculators to acquire claims, that an instance is told of a prospect, or discovery shaft, on the mountain-side being sold to one of them who examined it through a field glass from the road in the valley. The snow being deep he figured he would be unable to climb the slope for a closer examination. And to cap the climax this speculator paid $100 for the claim as he saw it through his glass!

Thus the stage was set: the actors present. The curtain rose on what was to be at least another Cripple Creek. But the play was a flop. The long-sought, long-promised bonanza was not in the plot; and the show folded after a brief run.

ELDORA. ITS GEOGRAPHIC SETTING

Eldora is located in a beautiful U-shaped valley near the headwaters of Middle Boulder Creek. It is about 22 miles southwest of Boulder, the county seat a Boulder County, and approximately the same distance north of Central City, center of the famous Little Kingdom of Gilpin. The nearest neighboring community is the village of Nederland, four miles to the east; and six miles southeast is the nearest railway point: Rollinsville, on the Denver and Salt Lake (Moffat) railroad. Northward, near the border of Caribou Flats are a few scattered and mostly deserted cabins marking all that now remains of Caribou, famous silver camp of the 70's. And from Caribou half-way down the gulch toward Nederland, is Cardinal: now only a cabin or two, and some deserted mines.

Steep mountains surround Eldora's valley on three sides; the west boundary rising till it terminates in the Continental Divide, at an average elevation of two miles above sea level. The elevation of Eldora is approximately 8600 feet. Its mountains, except the Divide, rise from 1200 to 1500 feet above the valley floor. From west to east the valley widens, and at a distance of a mile below the village in what is known as Sulphide Flats it is perhaps a mile wide. On the south side of Sulphide Flats, Tennessee (sometimes written 10-I-C) Mountain, a rough heavily wooded cliff-like elevation, forms the first prominent land-mark as one proceeds westward along the road from Nederland. On the north side of the valley is Eldorado Mountain, its many cliffs and crags interspersed with stately pine and spruce trees. Spencer Mountain (opposite Eldorado) and separated from Tennessee by a wide gulch, is not so heavily wooded, having long ago suffered from a devastating fire. Its new forest growth however, is gradually healing those old scars. Ute and Bryan Mountains form a continuation of Spencer, and Guinn stands between Bryan Mountain and the Continental Divide at Rollins Pass, or Corona. Due north of Guinn Mountain is Woodland, forming the west side of the Jasper Creek basin or Woodland Flats.

West of Eldorado Mountain, on the north side of the Eldora Valley is Mineral Mountain with its great cliff and steep, aspen-clad slopes. Klondyke joins Mineral, after the latter bends and extends a mile or two northward. There is little timber on Klondyke. In fact its west side is so precipitous that few trees can take root, and the mountain appears bleak and unfriendly. Opposite Mineral and Klondyke, across the valley of the North Fork, is Chittenden Mountain, whose west face was stripped of its timber by a terrible fire in 1899. Its east side in part is heavily wooded, and toward the north end, near where it meets the serrated ridge of the Continental Divide, is lovely Diamond Lake, in a pocket at the foot of a beetling cliff, nearly hidden in a thick spruce forest.

The North Fork of the Middle Boulder, a noisy, tumbling, narrow stream, joins its sister, the South Fork about two and one-half miles west of Eldora. The North Fork has its origin in the springs and melting snow drifts of the Divide at the foot of Arapaho Peak and Mount Neva, and the north end of Chittenden Mountain.

The South Fork is formed by two streams: Jasper Creek, with origin in Jasper and Devil's Thumb Lakes, and what is locally known as Corona Creek, which flows eastward through the valley between Guinn and Woodland Mountains from the region wherein are Betty, Bob, and King Lakes. The confluence of North and South Forks to form the main stream of the Middle Boulder, is in the old town-site of Hessie.

In the mountainous area west of Eldora toward the Continental Divide are other lakes beside those mentioned. Most of them are small, and all but two are at or above timberline.

ELDORA'S EARLY COMERS

In attempting this little sketch, the writers encountered many difficulties, chief among them being the lack of records. Such as exist are scattered and fragmentary. Few of the pioneers who lived in the region during or before the boom period of about 1897-1904 are now living. The parents of both of the authors were in the camp for several years before the mining excitement started; and the authors though very young at the time remember clearly the scene, many of the happenings, and knew many of the old-timers..

Any American community can be sure that its first arrivals were the Indians. So, in the Eldora region there is unmistakeable evidence of Indian occupation. Metates for grinding corn have been found in the village area. Below the village, in Sulphide Flats, are old camp sites, with here and there a grave or two: Southeast of Tennessee Mountain along Beaver Creek, the same holds true. Near Arapaho Pass collectors still find arrow heads and similar; artifacts. Tradition states that the forest fires which destroyed the forest growths on Tennessee, Spencer, Ute, and part of Eldorado Mountains, long years ago, were started by Indian hunting parties.

But it is with the early white settlers, the prospectors, and their doings, that this writing deals. And this takes us back to 1861: when Colorado was not Colorado, but part of Kansas; when Denver was but a straggling settlement on Cherry Creek. When the Gregory Diggings, Russell Gulch, Spanish Bar, and Gold Hill, were in the full bloom of recent discovery. Boulder City had been organized in 1859. In the mountains west of Boulder prospectors were seeking gold in every direction. Discoveries at Gold Hill, were followed by others in rapid succession: Jamestown, Ballarat, Ward, Albion, Caribou.

In a new country such as this, hundreds of miles from constituted courts, laws, and law enforcement agencies, prospectors and settlers must needs band together; organize, make their own laws, to cope with the new conditions under which they were living and working. Laws which would protect their claims and sluices; define the amount of land any one man could preempt in lode or placer, mill-site or ranch, and otherwise provide for the orderly conduct of the new community. These necessities gave rise to the establishment of so called mining districts. Several were organized in what later was to become Boulder County, as well as in Gilpin, Clear Creek, and other newly discovered mining areas. Among those in Boulder County was the Grand Island District: organized March 16, 1861. It comprised a strip of land some four miles wide, extending west from about Castle Rock in Boulder, Canyon, to the Continental Divide. As now defined it occupies the southwest corner of Boulder County, and includes the old towns of Caribou, Cardinal, Nederland, Eldora, and others which have long ceased to exist.

The prospectors in those early times had imagination, and saw things in a big way. Hence the name GRAND Island. The casual reader might think at once, "Ah yes, the first settlers were from Grand Island, Nebraska." Not at all. From early records we learn that the district was named for a mountain (declared to be over a thousand feet in height) which rose as an island in North Boulder Creek, a few miles below the site of Caribou. No such island is known today, and the existence at any time of such a sizeable tract is doubtful. Without discussing the possibilities or impossibilities of the situation, that is how the Grand Island District was named. So lets go on from there.

The success attending the gold diggings at Gregory Point, had, in 1859, induced a few prospectors in that area to explore northward beyond what is now called Caribou Hill. They found gold in some places but not in sufficient quantities as free, or metallic gold, to warrant extensive operations. Also, they found gold in sulphides of iron and copper. But lack of experience in, and appliances for extracting the precious metal from such complex minerals made these lodes valueless. Moreover the extracting of values from silver ores, found in considerable quantities at the same time, was then neither understood nor recognized. For this reason the entire Grand Island District was abandoned until 1869, incident to the discovery of the Caribou Mine. Mining activity thereupon revived and the District came into prominence as a great producer of silver.

Caribou City was organized in September, 1870. The town of Keysport came into being (on paper at least) the same year. Its sponsor was the Grand Island Lumber Co., Alfred Tucker, President. Located at the base of Caribou Mountain two miles from Caribou City, the founder advertised a town lot free to anyone who would erect a log cabin and take up residence in the new community. Not to be outdone, one Cyrus Hurd espoused a town and mill "on the south side of the river about three miles from the Caribou mine." In which direction and on which river the record fails to state. At any rate the embryo town bore the imposing, if meaningless, name of Haddam. While all this was going on, three miles east of Caribou on Middle Boulder Creek, Nederland came into existence (under the name of Boulder Valley) , and about halfway between Nederland and Caribou was Cardinal City, whose founders apparently had grandiose and far reaching plans for a real metropolis. Their town plat shows a Court House Square! And streets and blocks were laid out with mathematical regularity in the narrow valley where the town was situated. Here was discovered the famous Boulder County Mine. Its richness along with that of the Alton Tunnel and lesser properties and prospects swelled the population of Cardinal City, in 1872, to over 200 people.

"But what of Eldora?" you ask. "Aren't we supposed to be reading a history of that picturesque old camp?" True enough. And as we develop our theme, or plot, you will see where Eldora fits into this Grand Island cosmos. Perhaps we might as correctly say: Doesn't fit! for Eldora was not a-borning for nearly a quarter of a century after famous Caribou and its satellites had appeared in the mining firmament. In fact as we look back on the brief years of Eldora's heyday it is easy to understand why it was not a contemporary of Caribou. Sadly it must be admitted: it was a case of the little man who wasn't there!

"But," you exclaim, "Eldora gave promise of being a great camp!" Yes, promise was all it gave. Promise must be backed by deeds in any line of endeavor; even in gold mining. Look at the record, and you will understand what we mean. From a partial list of patented claims located in the Eldora area proper, that is, the southwest portion of Grand Island Mining District, one is struck with the fact that its history really begins with the discovery in 1875, of the Fourth of July lode by C. C. Alvord. He staked at the same time, the Alvord Placer. From then on until 1892 a few locations were made in the area which was later to become Eldora; but not until 1892 was there any real activity. During that year claims were located which later became the mines that brought Eldora into being, and into the brief prominence it enjoyed in the boom-town category. The list is interesting in that it summarizes better than any other way, who the real Early Comers, the Pioneers of Eldora were. Of some of these we will tell you more later. Of others, aside from the record that they located such-and-such a claim, nothing further is known. But such things are common in mining camp history in general.

Here then is our list:

The Happy Valley Placer, though appearing at the end of our list really belongs up toward the head of it; because from part of the Placer claim as staked by the locators, the town of Eldora was platted and named. John H. Kemp, (father of one of the authors), the discoverer of the placer originally came into the valley in about 1883 on a hunting trip. He was at the time engaged in mining activities at Central City, to which place he had come ten years previously from Kentucky. From the first Mr. Kemp was impressed with the mineral indications, as well as with the scenic beauty of the locale. He made annual trips thereafter, but it was not until September 5, 1891, that he located the placer. The project, it may be stated in passing, after a vain struggle against technical difficulties which lasted through several years, was abandoned insofar as placer operations were concerned about 1899, though the Happy Valley Placer was a promotor of the Eldora townsite project for several years beyond that date.

For some time after the placer was located the camp in the Eldora area was known by the name of the Placer: Happy Valley. However, as the few straggling cabins of the early settlers were augmented by those of later arrivals, and the settlement took on the semblance of a budding town, it was given the imposing though somewhat hackneyed name of Eldorado Camp. The name proved a source of perplexity and embarrassment at times, because of the existence in California of a town of the same name. Thus it often transpired that mail or express matter consigned to parties in Eldorado, Col., would moulder for days in the post office at Eldorado, Cal. On one occasion Mr. 0llie Shepperson, of the Terror Mine on Spencer Mountain suffered such a mishap with the payroll of his crew at the mine and it was some time ere the wandering papers were recovered.

The Boys scratched their heads. What to do about the dilemma. Finally, a happy and simple solution; just drop off the last syllable of Eldorado, and call the new town ELDORA. This was done. The town was platted, and on March 9, 1898, incorporated, under that name.

Adjacent camps soon sprang up along Middle Boulder Creek. About three miles northwest of Eldora, on the North Fork, was Grand Island. And two miles west, near the confluence of the North Fork and the South Fork, was Hessie: named for the wife of the first postmaster of that new village. Downstream a mile, in Sulphide Flats, Sulphide town started with a store or two and a few cabins. It was the boast of those living there that their town would soon crowd Eldora off the map. They felt that theirs was the better located of the two places, and besides, a development company had built a large hotel—the St. Julian—near O'Neil's Lake (now Sulphide Lake). No other town in the District had a Lake! And with all these perquisites it was planned that the camp would be not only a mining center but a summer resort as well.

However, the rosy dreams of greatness, permanence, or whatever the hardy sponsors of these budding communities entertained, went glimmering, as oft the best laid plans do; and today Eldora alone remains of the four villages. Grand Island has disappeared completely. In Hessie but one or two cabins are standing. The site of Sulphide is part of a big pasture under lease to a cattle company. And aside from waste dumps on the hillsides, with here and there a tumbled-down shaft house, or caved-in tunnel portal, there is nothing to indicate the once thriving mining activities from which the area derived its being.

THE BOOM

Of the many mining claims located in the Eldora region, those which really caused excitement and seemed to show great promise were on Spencer Mountain. Note that of the forty-three locations named in our list, over fifty per cent were staked on this hillside. It was probably a rich strike in the Enterprise, owned by James T. Phillips and Charles H. Firth that really touched off the Boom. The Clara, Village Belle, Birds Nest, Gold Coin, Virginia, and Terror however, were close seconds. Surface diggings in all of these properties showed a high gold content. Spencer Mountain Was declared to be a mountain of ore! Eldora would surely be a second Cripple Creek!

These discoveries together with others of lesser importance, led to the development of the Mogul Tunnel, whose portal is practically in the town itself. The tunnel had its inception and was projected as a drainage and transportation enterprise. Promoted in 1897 by John A. Gilfillan and associates, it had been driven over 800 feet into the mountain within a year after its location, cutting many veins upon which surface locations had already been made. At the time operations in the tunnel ceased, some years later, the main haulage way had been driven into the mountain some 2600 feet. This exclusive of other thousands of feet of drifts and cross-cuts. It was the hope of its backers that by cutting at a depth of 600 to 1,000 feet below the surface veins of prominent properties, an era of deep mining would result which would be both economical, profitable, and assure the permanence of the mines concerned as well as that of Eldora. We shall see how nearly that dream was to be realized.

While all this excitement was in progress, others of the early prospectors were seeking a method of treating the ores from their shafts and tunnels. John F. Tucker, one of these, built a small stamp mill on the creek bank near the settlement of Mary City, (Marysville) at the mouth of the gulch between Tennessee and Spencer Mountains. About the same time N. F. Hart, with his brother, built a similar plant in the gulch, above Marysville, toward Peterson's Lake (Lake Eldora) . Both of these ventures were successful as long as their ores were free-milling; i.e the gold content was in the metallic state, so that by crushing by means of stamps, and running the crushed material, or pulp, over a copper plate coated with mercury, the mercury would catch the gold, and hold it as amalgam. The amalgam would then be heated in a retort, the mercury vaporized and re-distilled, and the gold cast into ingots.

But as soon as the surface deposits of ore were worked out, and they became complex in character due to the presence of sulphur or tellurium, these simple reduction works were no longer profitable, and were abandoned. Thus, since mining operations throughout the whole area were developing rapidly, and the only means available to treat ores, now being mined at depth, was to ship them to smelters at Denver or Leadville, or to mills at Boulder or Colorado City, the need for a custom milling plant at the source of production became imperative. To this end the Eldora Mining and Milling Co. was organized. The company built a mill of seventy-five tons per day capacity at the foot of Ute Mountain, on the south side of the creek, about half a mile west of Eldora. About the same time a road was constructed from the mill to the Enterprise, Village Belle, Birds Nest, Gold Coin, Virginia, and other properties on Spencer Mountain. The plant was locally known as the Bailey Mill: N. B. Bailey, president of the Bank of Eldora, being its manager. The Denver Republican of March 28, 1899, carries the following write-up concerning the project:

"N. B. Bailey, who with W. C. Andrews of New York, comprises the Eldora Mining and Milling Co. is at the Albany (in Denver). The company is building a big chlorination mill in Eldora. 'We expect to have our mill finished by April 15,' said Mr. Bailey last night, 'and it will be one of the finest mills of its kind in the country. It will have a capacity of seventy-five tons and we now have over 1,000 tens of ore waiting for us . . . . The mill does crushing, drying, and roasting, but will not do any refining or melting for bullion ... The indications are that Eldora will be one of the best camps in the state, and I look for a big crowd in the coming season'."

In addition to the treatment of ores the company had a franchise from the town of Eldora to furnish electric light and water to the residents. But sad to relate, the project as a whole had an unfortunate career. The milling process was not adapted to the economical handling of the refractory low grade ores which the mines by now normally produced. The electricity and power project never did materialize; and the company soon went into receivership, from which it never recovered. Moreover a dispute between management and employees over wages resulted in the collapse of the Boom, and in one of Eldora's real tragedies, culminating in the death of Mr. Bailey. Of this we will tell you more later on.

The Eldora mineral belt consists mainly of telluride, or sulpho-telluride ores, the principal one encountered being sylvanite. Less frequently are found petzite and calverite. Sometimes the gold values occur in sulphides of iron, or copper, or both. The prevalence of tellurides in the area, and their frequent occurrence in rich pockets relatively near the surface contributed to the delusions fostered by wishful thinkers and promoters, that Eldora was destined to be "another Cripple Creek."

Many were the choice rich specimens taken from early diggings. One particularly fine, containing free gold, from the Virginia on Spencer Mountain, was presented to Queen Victoria of England, and it became part of the famous collection of minerals which Her Majesty had gathered from all parts of the world.

Working mines soon gave Eldora a monthly pay-roll of over $25,000. Frequent rich strikes in various properties kept excitement at a high pitch. The Denver Republican of August 8, 1900, exemplifies this:

"RUNS $10,000 GOLD TO THE TON!"

Sensational strike made in Mogul Tunnel at Eldora.

"Eldora, Colo., Aug. 7 (Special). The Mogul Tunnel has made a good many sensational strikes during the past six months, but the richest ore ever touched in the tunnel was taken out last week while timbering in the Village Belle drift. . . It is eighteen inches wide, one foot of which is roscolite quartz containing rich bunches of sylvanite. Large samples have been taken from this vein, and run fully $10,000 in gold per ton ..."

But notwithstanding the brightness of the rainbow, the pot of gold at the end of it never materialized. One of the main reasons was discussed in the following from a contemporary mining Journal published in Denver, under date of December, 1898:

"Perhaps, next to Cripple Creek, Eldora has been one of Colorado's best advertised camps. This was largely due to the optimism of some gentlemen interested in the sale of town lots, and yet was based on substantial mineral finds. Seeing the wonderful surface showings in the Spencer Mountain properties, as well as elsewhere throughout the district they naturally thought of the rapid development of Cripple Creek and concluded Eldora would make a similar showing.

"The result of this belief was manifested in an advertising of Eldora that brought in hundreds and created a city far ahead of the development of the mines. But one result was possible under the circumstances: the real estate boom collapsed, because premature, but the mines were never over-boomed, and the miners who stuck to their properties have been amply justified in their expectations, by the great showing made by systematic and intelligent development."

Great mines such as launched Leadville, Creede, other famous camps, even Caribou, proved to be entirely absent at Eldora however. Such mines as were at first prominent and gave rich promise in their surface diggings, became leaner and leaner as a rule with depth. In many, the veins pinched out altogether; in others, the ore values became so low that continued mining was impossible. "Pretty specimen lodes," one old timer characterized them; and he was correct in his description. Yes, a promising place was the Eldora diggings! Read some of the press comments of the time. We quote only a few, from the hundred or more.

In the Denver Times of November 11, 1897, (while it was still Eldorado Camp):

"The group embracing the Antietam, Portland, and Independent on Eldorado Mountain has developed into a very valuable property with only a small amount of development work. The Antietam is 70 feet deep, and has produced 30 tons of $50 ore. The vein is seven feet between walls . . . showed good ore at grass roots .. . The Independent shows a huge vein of $40 ore at a depth of 75 feet . . .

"The Enterprise on Spencer Mountain... with only meager and rude development work by 10 men, working in two shifts, is transporting 12 tons of $50 ore daily, the most of which is treated at the Delano Mill at Boulder.  The vein is a large one and carries good values all the way across it. Three 4-horse wagons are constantly employed hauling the output..."

In the same write-up there is a glowing account of the "large ore-body in the Village Belle"; and of the "large and well-defined vein" in the nearby Gold Coin property.

On January 12, 1899, the Rocky Mountain News tells us more about the Village Belle:

"A strike of rich ore in the Village Belle of sylvanite 1 to 4 inches wide, assays $7447.20 per ton in gold. The vein is 3 to 5 feet wide. The lowest assay from the new discovery is $3360 per ton. The Village Belle is the deepest mine at Eldora. It is near the apex of Spencer Mountain ... Its ores are sylvanite and petzite. The mine has produced to date about $20,000."

"A 3 foot vein of telluride ore has been broken into in the Helene W. on Mineral Mountain."

"The Mogul Tunnel is now in 850 feet and up to January 1 had cut over 20 veins many of which contain high grade ore."

Verily, the press items alone would convince most anyone. Add to them the honeyed promises in dozens of prospectuses afloat during the period and we have a picture of certain success, which even the most flint-hearted skeptic should accept. Before us is a document entitled "How Dollars Grow,' a brochure of some thirty-five pages, including, besides the homily on this fascinating subject, "The Story of the Fourth of July Mines." Printed on white-bordered yellow pages, the center of each page is embossed .in white letters an inch high with the slogan above quoted; so that throughout the perusal of this marvelous document one has the phrase always before the eye. The postulate of the company is unique. They are not interested in mining GOLD, the elusive metal which all others in the Eldora region seek! No sir! Under the caption "What Kind of Mining Pays Best?" the promoters advance this ingenious and highly interesting argument:

"There may be various exceptions to general rules, but the fact is that in this country COPPER MINING is safer, and at the same time pays better than any other metal or mineral mining ... It is to be remembered, also, that copper mines are few in number while the mines worked for the other metals named are vast in numbers."

Then by further devious though quite as amusing reasoning the report shows that the Anaconda properties of Butte, Montana, and the Fourth of July properties of Eldora are in reality blood brothers, nay, even twins! Hence the richness of the latter is a foregone conclusion. And to further bolster the picture there are inserted at strategic points, gems of thought by contemporary mining experts regarding what the prospectus calls "our ore."

Necessarily the names of the experts are omitted. But their statements are epic in mining lore:

"Prof. A: L: author of the Geology of Shangrila said of it: `That is fine ore and indicates permanence'."

"Mr. J. L. G for twenty years superintendent of the Verdigris Copper Mine, for which Senator C.  refused to take ninety millions of dollars, said, `That is fine ore, and it has staying qualities'."

"Dr. W. B, L. copper expert, on being shown samples of the ore said, 'I am mightily pleased with that ore. That ore is a stayer.' President J.  (Of the Company) remarked, 'You don't mean, doctor, that it may not pinch out sometime?' To which the doctor replied, 'Yes I do. I tell you that ore is a stayer, and it will stay with you always'."

"Mr. W. mineralogist for that great corporation known as the American Steel and Wire Co. was greatly delighted with the ore, and remarked : `Mr. J. , our company owns nearly everything under the sun that a great corporation should want except a good copper mine, and I want you to give us option on your property'."

The President and Manager of the company closes this report in a blaze of rhetorical eloquence:

"For us all, I do not hesitate to say to our more than one thousand stockholders scattered up and down the globe, that we have done the best we knew. 'We have done our best, forgive us for not doing better."

"We will trust that the same kind of Providence that has led and blessed us thus far will bless and prosper us to the end."

Could anything be more magnificent? One can imagine that great company of stockholders wiping its collective eyes, bedewed with tears, and stilling its swelling breasts, surcharged with a noble emotion, at the thought of the selfless sacrifice and ceaseless effort on the part of its President and Manager in their behalf.

But that is not the end of this great undertaking, or rather the literary effluvia concerning same. In another pamphlet, of the same trend, doubtless by the same author, we find the arresting question: "If the Mine is So Valuable, Why Do You Come to Us?" And the answer:

"Because a new country in the development stages has more promising fields for investment than it has money ...

And further on:

"If This Mine Is So Promising, Why Do Not the Denver Capitalists Buy It?"

"We know of one good reason—they don't get the chance. The property is not for sale . . . We propose to keep control ourselves. We do not expect to put ourselves or our friends in the hands of reckless speculators . . . Our Company has grown from ourselves to our friends and widened out to the friends of our friends. We do not believe seven hundred grander people were ever associated together in a business enterprise than we have in our Company."

So there! Laugh that off, you Denver Capitalists. You reckless speculators!

From the above flowery and effusive type of sucker bait we switch to the terse style of the rough old hard rock miner, and quote briefly from the prospectus of the Mechanics Mining Company:

"The Company owns six patented lode claims on Chittenden Mountain, in the Grand Island Mining District . . . two miles west of the town of Eldora, one mile southwest of the famous Caribou mine, which has a record of $7,000,000 production; one mile north of the Gilpin County line, and four miles southwest of the Fourth of July mine, and in the junction of the sulphide belt of Gilpin County and the tellurium belt of Boulder County."

In other words, this concern impresses upon prospective clients, that the contiguity of its properties to the great Caribou mine (as a matter of fact they were miles from it) , and the imaginary intersection (if any) of the sulphide and telluride belts would create a set up which spelled immediate success for his investment. The client reads on:

"The Oregon, Klondyke, Klondyke No. 2, and Stewart Group. The Oregon is a large porphry dyke with sulphide formation. The vein is 30 feet wide and has a 10 inch streak of decomposed quartz that pans gold freely . .. The Oregon has 40 feet of development work. The Stewart vein is 10 feet wide, well defined and is of tellurium formation. Development consists of a tunnel 160 feet on the vein. There is a cross lead about 30 feet ahead of breast of tunnel, where good ore can be expected. Klondyke and Klondyke No. 2 have well-defined veins."

By the time the writer got to a discussion of the latter two latent bonanzas, he apparently was seized with writer's cramp, for he dropped the subject of prospects then and there, but toward the end of the pamphlet the public is informed that

"the Company's capital stock is 25,000 shares, 11,100 shares of which have been sold, leaving at this time in the treasury 13,900 shares of which has been set aside to be sold for further development of the property.

"All stock that has been sold was sold at $1.00 per share. All money derived from sale of said stock has been used in developing . . . the Company's claims.

"No salaries have been paid or are being paid the officers of the Company. "The Company has no liabilities.

"The Company has heretofore been a close corporation, but we decided to place a limited amount of stock on sale to enable us to push development more rapidly."

What could be fairer than that? And yet in the time which has elapsed since the foregoing was published and the present time, the writers doubt that a search of the Chittenden Mountain area would disclose the locations of any of the above described workings.

One more prospectus, and we have done with this fascinating subject. Bear in mind, the writers are fully aware that the high-pressure prospectus, as an institution, existed long before, and has continued long since Eldora appeared on the scene. It is the bow of promise, the Golconda, the something-for-nothing aspect as it refers to the area under discussion that we stress.

Here then is the offering of:

"The Mogul Drainage and Transportation Tunnel and Mining and Milling Co.

Capitalization $1,000,000

Shares $1.00 Each—Full Paid and Non-Assessable

Treasury Fund, 400,000 Shares"

These captions form the title page. The first page of the text tells us:

"The Directors desire to emphasize the fact that they have not organized a wild-cat or stock-jobbing scheme, but have pooled all the common stock (six hundred thousand shares) . . . with the express stipulation that the tunnel, which the Mogul Company is building, has to be completed for a distance of 1200 feet before pool is dissolved. This will prevent the common stock from coming in competition with the Treasury, it being the desire to protect investors in Treasury Stock against manipulation.'

As we read on in the booklet, we come to the following:

"Spencer Mountain is said by all experts and experienced men who have examined it, to be the most thoroughly mineralized mountain in the State. The Mogul has already cut three veins in a distance of thirty feet, one of which is large and good grade mineral; the surface, however, being located, the mineral belongs to the stir-face owner.

"We wish to emphasize the fact that we are not mining, but are building transportation to facilitate mining. In that way the Mogul Company avoids the purchase of high-priced claims and mines and exhausting its treasury in payment for them. . . . There are now many properties already opened sufficient to prove them, and we submit an illustration of what might be expected on the most conservative minimum basis. We confidently expect to cut from forty to seventy-five producing veins in 2,000 feet, at a depth of from 500 to 1,000 feet from the surface, that will each produce from ten to fifty tons per day of twenty-four hours. Suppose we cut only ten, and that they will only produce a total of 100 tons per day and we will place the value at only $25 per ton (while all surface ores run more than that and the values increase with depth), we have this result:

100 tons at $25 per ton                                                                               $2,500.00

Ten per cent royalty, the lowest on the list, paid to the Mogul Company         250.00

Leaves the owner of the mining properties                                                 $2,250.00

Out of this amount the charges of mining, hauling and other

expenses are paid, say $10 per ton                                                            $1,000.00

Leaves net to the owners of the properties                                                 $1,250.00

"We now own an undivided one-fourth in the properties, which gives the Mogul Company one-fourth of the $1,250, or $312.50; this added to the $250 charged for royalties will make the income $562.50 per day, and a total of over $15,000 per month. This is representing the income on a most conservative basis and estimate, and we want to say that these are not overdrawn figures, but we believe will be more than confirmed when 1,200 feet, or less, of the tunnel is completed. But suppose we only get one-half of this amount, we will still have a good dividend-paying proposition with expenses for operating almost nothing as the owners of the mines do all the work of mining and hauling and pay the Mogul Company royalties for the use of the tunnel." (Italics ours).

What a gorgeous picture! Managers, stockholders, the office force, and the office cat, all sitting back and resting while royalties from the participating mine owners pour an ever-swelling stream into the coffers of the Mogul Company! No upkeep. No maintenance. No payroll hardly. "Expenses for operating almost nothing!" Boy, what a set up!

"We have done our best. Forgive us for not doing better."

The practice of salting—dishonest, nefarious, as old as mining itself--occurred in more than one Eldora mine during the Boom excitement. Several properties were developed thus, far beyond the status of mere prospects. Methods employed followed a familiar trend, and all had one object: that of filling the promoter's treasury at the expense of hapless sucker-stockholders. Many times were worthless assay samples "needled" to show high values by the simple process of mixing valueless rock with rich ore stolen from some other location. And rich ore mixed with vein matter in a barren or nearly barren shaft or tunnel, then sampled in the presence of a willing dupe often resulted in sales which otherwise would never have occurred.

One of the authors once worked in such a tunnel, on Ute Mountain. The bore had been driven some 200 feet along a vein which carried no mineral values of any kind. One day the manager laid the crew off. "Take a coupla days with pay," he said. We asked no questions; and when we returned to work a heap of very fine-looking ore lay piled on the dump. Similar lay-offs occurred from time to time. Each time the ore pile increased during our absence. Then one day, came a party of stockholders from the big city, to inspect their reputed bonanza. "All this here ore come from one big chunk we opened up in the tunnel," beamed the manager. In the tunnel breast the situation looked even better. The day's round of drill holes had been blasted, and the "ore" thus shot down had not yet been trammed out. Wide-eyed the visitors watched while a sample for assaying was taken. In a day or two back came the report. The stockholders rubbed their hands in glee. No wonder the assay report was high: the drill holes had been salted!

In another instance the development of a well known tunnel located in the North Fork was financed on the strength of a salted ore pile on the dump of the mine whose supposed vein the tunnel was being driven to cut. The ore pile allegedly from the mine, had actually been built up by an old prospector who had been hired by the company to pack it several miles from an idle property near Caribou. This same oldtimer would relate, on occasion, how a certain mine operator named Sam, by salting the gravel in his gold pan had sold to the tunnel company a placer claim of 160 acres. The story was that Sam, accompanied by representatives of the company, had journeyed to Arapahoe Basin, where the placer was supposed to be. In preparation for the visit a small amount of overburden had been removed from bedrock. The crafty Sam scooped up and panned several samples from different parts of the claim. But as each panning progressed Sam invariably paused, fumbled in his pocket for a fresh chew of tobacco. In that pocket he had thoughtfully dropped a liberal supply of gold dust. Part of it stuck to his wet hand, and was thence deftly transferred to the gravel being panned. Of course, "color" always showed. Thus were the prospective buyers convinced that here was a placer! The purchase was consummated on the spot.

A certain scope in a mine near Lost Lake showed a healthy streak of "high-grade." The foreman immediately had an idea! Why not obtain this ore for himself through a lease on that part of the mine? Naturally, the crew working there, must be disposed of lest they talk too much. So, suddenly, and for no apparent reason, one or two of the boys were fired. Those remaining were transferred to another part of the mine. Then a man with very poor eyesight was hired to sort the ore from that scope. Any remarks about a strike of rich ore were-frowned on and soft-pedalled. In time the matter was supposedly forgotten. But, as often happens with well planned, but questionable schemes, the unforeseen occurred. The mine closed down altogether; the foreman moved to another camp. And to this day, so far as known, the rich ore remains where it was shot down and buried under tons of waste—in the scope in which it was discovered.

But, even as the Boom began: gradually, slowly, in the early 90's, gathering momentum toward the great climax of 1898-99; so, as gradually it began to subside. The low grade highly refractory ores were too expensive to mine. One by one the mines began to close down. Eldora, after all, was just the little man who wasn't there! By the year 1904 when the railroad was completed into the Camp, mining had dwindled_ to only a small fraction of its former activity. The railroad, its promoters hoped, would be the panacea which would cure the ailing mining situation in Eldora. Was not Spencer Mountain a mountain of ore? Were not thousands of tons of it to be had for the mere digging? Surely, with the ore bins of the great Mogul Tunnel located right at the road's terminal, and cheap haulage thus made available from portal, to smelter and mint, how could conditions do other than improve? But they didn't improve. On the contrary they became steadily worse. Since mining didn't pay, the railroad couldn't. By 1917 mining had ceased, except for small sporadic attempts from time to time, in one property or another, none of which were successful. Apparently, mining in Eldora was not in the cards.

Big mines made big mining men: witness Tabor, Stratton, Walsh, hundreds of others. In this region as we have said, there were no big mines. Nor do we know of any of the old timers who located claims in that part of the Grand Island Distract who struck it rich, really "made a stake," and left the diggings with a million in his pocket.

So you see why we characterized Eldora ,as the "little man . . .", and why it never could have become, even a second cousin to Cripple Creek.

LUMBERING

Several saw mills within a radius of three to five miles from Eldora formed an important adjunct to the mining industry. One was located at the west end of town, and was owned by Mr. Randall. Up the creek a quarter of a mile, on a small flat maybe half a mile from Hessie was another; owner unknown. And some five miles up the North Fork was still another, also nameless to us. But best known, and most important at that time was the Felch and Jones mill at the junction of Jasper and Corona Creeks, in Woodland Flats, nearly four miles west of Eldora.

Fred Felch had previously operated a mill in Boulder Park (Tolland), from which he hauled lumber up Jenny Creek, through Deadman's Gulch, thence through the timber to Peterson's Lake. From here, loading his wagon again, he hauled it down the steep and rocky road from the Lake via Mary City (Marysville) to Eldorado Camp. This undertaking obviously was expensive for both producer and consumer. Lumber prices were much too high as a result. The mill at Woodland solved this problem as far as Eldora was concerned, and provided cheap lumber during the Boom.

The Woodland Flats establishment was elaborate. And during the peak of the Boom operated on a twenty-four hour basis. Logging crews in the woods cut and snared logs to loading docks where they were loaded onto the tars of a horse-drawn tramway, many miles of which had been constructed into the timber for this purpose. Thence they were hauled to the mill and sawed into lumber. The crew lived and boarded at the mill Mr. Fetch was in general charge of operations there, and his partner, Mr. Jones, operated the storage and sales yard in Eldora. Among the numerous personnel at the mill were Cal McKay of Central City, an old hand at the game, in general charge of logging, and Gene White, now living in Nederland, one of the sawyers.

Eldora could use only a small part of the lumber cut. The main distribution point for the product was Central City. Hauling, from mill to yard, whether in Eldora, or Central, was ever an exciting and dangerous undertaking. In the summer season, heavy wagon-gears and trailers of the same size, were loaded with about 10,000 feet of lumber, and this tandem drawn by eight horses. A caravan thus loaded, winding its way down the narrow, rocky road, was a thrilling sight to one seeing it for the first time. But to those accustomed to it, the occurrence was all a part of the day's doings. The fact that such huge strung-out outfits were able, day after day, to negotiate without accident, the steep grades and sharp curves of the route, was due as much to the literal horse sense of the powerful animals hitched to the wagons, as to the skill of the men handling them.

In winter, bob sleds replaced the wagons. And the haul to Central City was much shortened by using a route impracticable except in the deep-drifted snows. This winter road led along the side of Bryan Mountain, just below the Revenge Mine, eastward to the gap between Bryan and Ute Mountains; thence through the gap southward (west of Peterson's Lake) down into Deadman's Gulch, Jenny Creek and Boulder Park; up Jenny Lind Gulch to Apex; along Pine Creek, and finally into Central. Traces of the old road can be found today, if one knows the country, and where to look. A long hard haul in spite of the decreased distance. But then, men in those times thought nothing of doing things the hard way.

Drivers of those outfits, like the stage drivers and the freighters, were a product of long and arduous training in just that line of work. They were men of accurate judgment; fearless. Horsemen in the strictest sense. Each driver usually owned the team he drove. Great was his pride in, and love for each animal. Horses were the best that money could buy. Harness and trappings were always spick and span; decorated with bells and fancy rings and plumes. The horses arched their necks, and minced along the road as if proud of being in such a turnout.

Speaking of the "skinners," none were any better than Fred Felch himself. John White, one of the stage drivers of those days, says that Fred was one of the best he ever saw: that in winter, with tandem bob-sleds piled high with lumber, Fred would climb on the load, gather up the lines and start the team. As they got under way, he would stand up, "pour the silk" into them, and down the steep icy road they would go at a gallop! As we read of this", it sounds foolhardy, but the logic is nevertheless plain: had the team slowed up or attempted the descent at a walk, the heavy load would have over-run the horses.

Other "skinners" besides Fred Felch included Ed Cody, and Mart Noonan, from Central City; and Jim Mitchell and Harry White (brother of Gene and John White) from Boulder County.

The lumber industry however, met a sudden and tragic set-back. A tremendous forest fire swept the region in 1899. Parts of Bryan and Guinn Mountains, the Corona Creek Valley, Woodland Mountain, Jasper Creek Valley, Chittenden Mountain, thence into the North Fork, were all denuded. The fire also destroyed the timber on Mineral and Klondyke Mountains. Reaching the crests of the two last named, the fire died down, due to the fact that Caribou Flats, a continuation to the east from these summits, had already been stripped of its timber by wood cutters during Caribou boom days in the 70's.

While the fire raged, Eldora residents spent terror-stricken days and nights. Many people left the Camp. Others loaded household goods on wagons in preparation for instant flight should the danger become more imminent. The glow of the fire could be seen many miles away, and the sun shone as a great red ball through the billowing clouds of smoke.

How the fire started has never been known.

STAGE AND FREIGHT LINES

In the early days of Happy Valley and Eldorado Camp, Ed Cody ran a stage from Central City twice a week during summer, and whenever there were passengers or light cargo during winter. His turnout was a two-horse team, and buggy. Heavy freight—machinery and supplies—for the Happy Valley Company was hauled in four-horse wagons usually hired, from Dick Williams, well known liveryman of Central. Oscar, his son (better known in later years as sheriff of Gilpin County) did the driving.

Jay Church and Charles Huggins ran a stage line from Boulder to Nederland at this time. They also had the mail contract to Eldorado Camp. As the Boom developed, Church parted from Huggins, and established himself at Eldora, expanding his operations to include freighting as well as staging. At the peak of the Boom the number of stage companies had increased to four; all between Boulder and Eldora. These were—in addition to Mr. Church's establishment—Tallmadge and Lilley, and Hall and Fitting (formerly of Colorado Springs) at Eldora, and P. Frank Little, who owned also a livery and sales stable, operating out of Boulder. The equipment used by all these outfits consisted of a coach of the Concord type, drawn by teams of four or six horses.

All stages pulled out of Boulder as soon as possible after the arrival of the morning train from Denver, about 9:30 in the morning. The road to Eldora led (and still does) through picturesque Boulder Canyon. This road was built in 1871 by the Boulder and Caribou Wagon Road Company. As originally constructed, it crossed Boulder Creek thirty-one times in twelve miles. For many years it was a toll road, until finally it was taken over and maintained by Boulder County. For many years, until the road was rebuilt by convict labor from the State Penitentiary in 1916, it was practically a one-way thoroughfare. Realizing this fact, and spurred by keen rivalry, there was always a strenuous effort on the part of stage drivers to be the first to enter the Canyon, since barring accidents, the lucky driver would arrive first in Eldora. More than once Boulder's main street was the scene of an exciting race between two or more swaying stage-coaches, each drawn by six galloping horses, their drivers "pouring on the silk," with the single object of being first in the Canyon. Arrival time in Eldora was about 1:00 pm; and often the race, which began the journey in Boulder, was repeated through Sulphide Flats below Eldora, much to the excitement and delight of the townspeople. Them was the days! The "Eldora Brevities" column of the Eldora Miner, of Saturday, February 19, 1898, reports among other items: "The coaches from Boulder brought in 65 passengers last Wednesday."

At the Half-Way House in Boulder Canyon, a rambling one-story building just above Boulder Falls, tired teams completing the first leg of the trip were speedily replaced by fresh ones, and the journey continued without loss of time. Stabling and feed for horses, and meals of sorts for drivers and passengers were always obtainable at this hostelry, which operated for many years: even as far back as Caribou boom times.

The return trip from Eldora started early the following morning. Before leaving town the coach would make the rounds, stopping at each hotel, and even at private dwellings, to gather passengers for the down journey to Boulder. Always there was rivalry for the box seat beside the driver. He, of course, had the deciding word; and as a rule only personal friends or a prominent personage could hope for the honor.

Stage travel was usually a pleasure in the summer season, except when severe storms or cloudbursts drenched occupants, and even went so far as to wash out roads and bridges. Times occurred when passengers were marooned until relief vehicles could arrive from the nearest town. During severe winters when blizzards on several occasions blocked the upper parts of the Canyon, stage passengers were left at the Half-Way House, and the driver mounted one of the horses with the mail sacks, and completed the trip. Times of this sort were not frequent, and for the most part passengers were made comfortable with robes and foot-warmers, and the canvas curtains of the coach at least modified the severity of the icy winds and swirling clouds of snow, which frequently swept the landscape at the upper end of the Canyon.

The huge lumbering freight outfits which hauled in machinery for the mines, and supplies for the stores, returning to Boulder with cargoes of ore, were not bound by time schedules as were the stages, but were on the road from early dawn to late night. Among the many different ones in operation, that of Jay M. Church, is typical. Mr. Church, at the height of the mining excitement in Eldora had 115 horses, and employed forty-five men. He started in the Fall of 1897, when the camp was still Eldorado, hauling ore from the Enterprise Mine on top of Spencer Mountain. At this time he had only two six-horse teams. The road from the mine was narrow, steep and tortuous: dangerous at any time of year, and particularly in winter. It followed the face of Spencer Mountain eastward for nearly a mile, then turned south and plunged downward past Peterson's Lake, thence through the gulch to Mary City, and on to the main road to Boulder.

We asked Mr. Church what started the Eldora Boom: "Along in January, 1898," he replied, "there appeared a write-up in a Denver paper which described in glowing phrases the wonderful showing of ore in the Enterprise Mine. That set things off. People swarmed into Camp. From then on, until the Boom blew up, in 1899, I couldn't get enough teams or men to take care of the demands for hauling."

Church's stables in Eldora had the unique distinction of having a dance hall on the street floor above them.

With the completion, in 1904, of the railroad into Eldora, horse-drawn stages and freight wagons began to disappear, and the increased numbers of automobiles finally crowded them out altogether, thus ending a picturesque chapter in those stirring times.

THE RAILROAD

A fuller discussion of the railroad and its bearing on Eldora's fortunes belongs here, ere we pass on to other subjects. In 1894 two Pennsylvanians: Colonel Samuel B. Dick, and Mr. W. J. Culbertson organized the Colorado and Northwestern Railway. They had acquired the right-of-way of the Greeley, Salt Lake and Pacific Railway, which, incorporated in 1881, had operated as a narrow-gauge line from Boulder, up Four-Mile Canyon to Sunset, serving the several mining camps which dotted that Canyon. The road had always operated at a loss. Curiously, too, the thirteen mile-long line never started from Greeley, nor did it ever reach Salt Lake, or the Pacific Coast. In the great flood of May 30, 1894, the road-bed was washed out. And that finished the G. S. L. & P.

Messrs. Dick and Culbertson built their Colorado & Northwestern along this old right-of-way, and extended the line from Sunset to Ward. Appropriately they named it The Switzerland Trail. At the same time they built a big ore-reduction plant at Valmont, three miles east of Boulder, and ran a spur from Boulder to the new mill. The railroad, they planned, would provide passenger and freight service to the towns through which it passed,. and haul ore from the mines to the mill. The newly built railway commenced operations in February, 1899. Notwithstanding its added length to Ward, and the increase of territory it thus served, it reached Ward too late to be of the service its promoters hoped for. Ward mines had apparently reached their 'peak of production, and were on the decline. The same was true of other mines along the Four-Mile Canyon area. Hence the new line, like its predecessor, operated ever in the red. In 1904 it went into receivership.

But Colonel Dick was not one to take reverses lying down. He was heavily interested in the Mogul Tunnel at Eldora. In common with the Tunnel's other backers, he shared the idea that Spencer Mountain was one great low-grade ore-body. The Mogul had a production potential of hundreds of tons a day. (Actually at no time did it ever produce one-tenth that amount) . Thus, by extending the railroad to Eldora, it would surely pay; a market for the ores of the district would be easily and cheaply available, and the mining industry, ailing throughout Boulder County, would revive. Furthermore, with the Mogul Tunnel, there would be the Boulder County Tunnel at Cardinal, then being driven to tap the veins of famous mines in the Caribou area. There were ores from the newly discovered tungsten mines around Nederland; and in the Sugar Loaf District the famous Livingston and other properties gave every indication of being steady producers. Thus, it was felt, mining in the Grand Island, and other districts of Boulder County couldn't fail.

But the troubles which had dogged the railroad all through its history seemed to become more aggravated. The mining industry was unable to keep it out of the red. Automobiles were becoming more and more common, and cutting into the Company's freight business. In June, 1907, the road again went into receivership. Reorganized, and renamed the Denver Boulder and Western, the little line again made a brave start. It was no use. Mining was practically done. Railroading was finished. On July 31, 1919, a terrific cloudburst sent a flood roaring down the canyons. When the waters subsided, the tracks had again been washed away.

ELDORA TOWN

So much for the Boom, if such you wish to term it. What manner of city was this place, ELDORA? Before us lies a copy of a contemporary periodical. It reports, (February 19, 1898):

"(Eldora) has a fully fledged city government, the personnel of which is as follows: Mayor, C. M. Webb; Mayor pro tem, Fred Oakes; Trustees, E. E. Bethel, C. A. Crittenden, J. B. Clemmons, E. N. Cook, D. C. Dwinnell and Fred Little; Town Attorney, E. G. Vanatta; Police Magistrate, J. H. Naylor; Treasurer, J. E. Carpenter; Deputy, Dr. Tullis; Town Marshal, W. L. Payne. The town has the reputation of being very orderly, making the offices of police magistrate and marshal sinecures. All lines of business are well represented, including a really good hotel, the Gold Miner, and several well kept houses more moderate in price. There are eleven saloons, one newspaper, one bank, a photograph gallery conducted by Mrs. Nora Thompson, two ladies clubs, one of which supports a free reading room. A Methodist Church, presided over by Rev. Whisler, an excellent public school employing two teachers and having an average attendance of about one hundred pupils. It will in the coming year be lighted by electricity and have a good gravity water system, franchises for this purpose having already been granted to the Eldora Light and Power Company, a corporation of New Jersey capitalists, whose local manager and representative is N. B. Bailey, president of the Bank of Eldora."

At the height of the mining excitement there were perhaps 2,000 to 2,500 people residing in the area as a whole. Eldora boasted over a thousand of these. The town was substantially built, as towns of that type and period went; streets and alleys were carefully surveyed and laid out. A not too stout jail was erected in rear of the Gold Miner Hotel, and later moved across the creek. In fact the only institution not provided for was a cemetery. And to this day Eldora has never had one.

The first school in camp, taught by Mrs. Asa Campbell, was held in the Campbell residence. It was sometimes a problem for her to keep the younger and more stubborn pupils from hiding under the bed in order to evade the tasks of the day. One of the authors was in this category, and many a time the teacher was put to using the broom in order to give teeth to her persuasions. As the school became larger, it moved to another building, and a man teacher arrived on the scene. His method of dealing with the unruly ones was even more direct than Mrs. Campbell's had been. After ringing the bell, he would circle the building armed with a stout switch, herding the laggards in like sheep. This procedure was effective for a time—with all but a few of the older and more hardened pupils. These, under decree of the School Board had been soundly trounced: a procedure which did not improve matters.

One afternoon the new teacher failed to arrive. The waiting pupils thereupon staged a free-for-all battle with books, erasers, and other equipment of the classroom. A tardy pupil arrived, and breathlessly stated that the teacher was lying outside, unconscious. Investigation disclosed that he had been ambushed by some of the recalcitrants and laid low by a well-aimed shot from a "sling-shot," even as was Goliath by David in holy days of yore. This climaxed the pupil-teacher feud. The professor's wife took up and unraveled the tangled situation, happily for all concerned, carrying on the teacher's duties for the remainder of the term.

In the early days of Happy Valley, and Eldorado Camp, a bi-weekly stage from Central City brought mail, as well as the main supplies required by the few inhabitants who did not have their own teams and vehicles. Some kept a cow, chickens, perhaps a hog or two. Thus were provided dairy products and necessary meat; the latter was supplemented occasionally by mild game: a deer, maybe, grouse, cotton-tail and snowshoe rabbits; grey squirrels. There was a small general store at the east end of the village, and one or two in Nederland. However, as the town grew, became firmly established, and had several stores of its own, these drew their supplies from Boulder, rather than Central City.

High altitude and a short summer season prevented the development of very extensive gardens, although many vegetables, chiefly peas, radishes, onions, turnips, carrots and sometimes potatoes, matured without difficulty. Augmenting the gardens, and aside from stock available in the stores, peddlers hauled in produce from their, farms near Boulder. Thus, in season, housewives could round out their daily menus with fruits, melons, tomatoes, sweet corn, and other delicacies. Hillside and creek banks usually provided an abundance of wild gooseberries, huckleberries, strawberries, black currants, and the old favorite of high-country mining camps: the wild raspberry, whose brambly bushes grew luxuriantly under. fallen logs, and adjacent to working mines where waste water from the shaft or tunnel provided irrigation for the yearly crop. All of these were free for the taking. And when they ripened women and youngsters of the camp gathered as much as possible for canning into jellies, jams, preserves and pie material, to last through the long winter months. Although the food supply during winter was necessarily curtailed as to fresh vegetables and fruits, there was an abundance of staples—beef and canned goods--at the stores; and the residents as a rule got along without difficulty.

In common with all Boom camps, money was plentiful. Any excitement or amusement was bountifully financed, and entertainers, or competitors for prizes, were richly rewarded. Fourth of July and Labor Day were the chief annual celebrations. Competition was keen for prizes. The rock drilling contest was by far the most important. In addition there were many others, including burro races, old men's races, old ladies' races and fat men's races. There were horse races, three legged and sack races; climbing the greased pole, catching the greased pig; pie-eating contests, horse-shoe pitching, dancing contests; an assortment of events for the youngsters. This galaxy made the occasion one grand round of pleasure and excitement for all comers: a round lasting for three days and nights.

As to the rock-drilling, it may be added that the World's Champion Single-Hand Driller, Fred Yockey, was an Eldora product: trained and coached by F. M. (Nick) Langley, father of one of the authors of this writing. Several of the granite blocks used-for practice, and for the contests themselves, are still to be seen, as full of holes as the lid of a pepper box. Along the creek banks, and here and there in the timber, one sometimes encounters blocks used for secret practice by aspiring contestants. .

Thanksgiving Day celebration was usually high-lighted by a turkey shoot. Practice for this event began some days prior, and the noise from the various types of guns used by prospective entrants reminded one of a sniper's convention. Unlike Creede, Leadville, and many other boom camp Eldora was not wild and woolly. The Boys in general were peaceable and well-behaved; though plenty rough. Very few expressed cravings for a "man for breakfast," hence there was no promiscuous shooting-up of the town, and only one or two serious fracases. Payday drunks, with their attendant rows, were common enough. But these for the most part were confined among a few. The population as a whole was disposed to attend strictly to business. Only one tragic shooting scrape is remembered during the Boom period. This grew out of a dispute between N. B. Bailey, the manager of the chlorination mill west of town, and his employees, over a delayed pay-day. In those days, when fly-by-night concerns were often encountered, the Boys were sure to become restive under such circumstances. Many an occasion had they known when some of them had been "paid off with a pick handle," or with the promise that all would be arranged satisfactorily "next month." So, in this case, they were suspicious. There were some who claimed that Mr. Bailey had the necessary funds in the company safe ready for disbursement on the following day. Others denied this. At any rate, the situation was loudly discussed at the various bars, and many a drink was downed during the argument. Finally a group of hot-heads took matters into their own hands. It was a cold night late in the fall. The mob surrounded Mr. Bailey's home, capped the chimney with a sheet of iron, and smoked him out. When he appeared at the door he was greeted by a fusillade of shots, some of which took effect. Mr. Bailey was immediately rushed to the hospital in Boulder. Reports stated that his wounds were not necessarily fatal. However, blood poisoning set in, and in a few days he passed away.

Excitement in Eldora was at a high pitch. Although the identity of the guilty ones was suspected, there was no direct evidence on which law officers could act; hence no arrests were made. And to this day the perpetrators of the crime have never been brought to book or been punished. The episode served as a grim object-lesson to mine and mill operators throughout Boulder and neighboring counties; and for many years disputes over wages were unknown, and seldom were paydays deferred.

Not until fifteen years later was there another fatality due to gun play in Eldora.

ABOUT SOME OF THE BOYS

Eldora had its loves and hates; its comedies and tragedies. Heroes and . villains made their entrances and exits. Many of the old-timers were worthy of discussion and description; but we have space to tell you of only a few.

So, let us start with John A. Gilfillan, who arrived in the Valley late in the eighties. He was a member of a prominent St. Louis family; an educated man, a mining engineer of wide experience. He had prospected and engineered mining properties in many parts of the United States before coming to this section of the country.

Jack was a well-built six-footer; swarthy, and raw-boned; slightly deaf, and talked in a drawly low-modulated tone of voice. He was taciturn, almost unfriendly toward strangers, but with his friends he manifested a dry, sarcastic type of humor which brought many a laugh. He had built a cabin at the Clara Mine on Spencer Mountain, which mine he had located in 1889. In this cabin he, and his partner, lived while developing the mine. Besides the cabin at the Clara he had built another in Eldorado Camp, near the center of the village. However, as the village developed into a town, incident to the Boom, Jack began to feel hemmed in and unhappy. Seemed as if the encroachments of civilization cramped his style. But he had a sentimental feeling toward the cozy little log cabin, in which he had spent many peaceful years. He would not abandon it to profane hands. So, carefully numbering each log, he had the structure dismantled, and moved to a location on Eldorado Mountain where he could see his Clara Mine, his Mogul Tunnel (which he had helped promote, and now managed), and rapidly-growing Eldora, Here he stayed, until about 1910, when he left the valley, married, and engaged in farming near Platteville, Colo.

Frank C. Armstrong, also a St. Louisan, was another picturesque early corner to Happy Valley; his arrival preceding that of Jack Gilfillan.

He was a heavy-set man of medium build; blue-eyed, and with regular, finely modelled features, crowned by thick, iron-grey hair. By profession he was a mining engineer, and a United States Deputy Mineral Surveyor. Frank seemed to bubble over with quick, impatient energy, which was apparent in the speed and unflagging endurance he manifested in hiking to and from survey sites, and on the survey itself. Men found it difficult to keep pace with him; and axe, and chain-men in his employ were unanimous in their verdict that he was no easy man to work for. He was on the trail to the job by daylight, and often it was dark ere he returned to camp. He never carried, or stopped for noon-day lunch, and he showed considerable impatience when his assistants insisted on so doing, as Frank considered such indulgence to be a mark 'of weakness. Thus, while. the "weaklings" were satisfying the inner man with a sandwich or two, he would pace back and forth, forth and back, pausing now and then to check up on the progress of the diners. The minute the last crust of the sandwich had disappeared, back to the job they went, without further delay.

In the early days when Armstrong first arrived in Happy Valley, he had, with James T. (Jimmie) Phillips, done considerable prospecting, and the two located and patented several claims. None of these appear to have amounted to much, and aside from the record that they were located, nothing further is known of them.

When Frank was engaged in field work, he had an undeviating custom at night of anointing his feet, arms, hands and face with camphor ice, a large tube of which he always carried. (One can imagine the condition of bed clothes after several such applications). Thus greased, he felt he was proof against colds, was protected against ill results from wearing wet boots, rendered immune to sun-burn, and otherwise fortified against the ravages of climate and elements.

Eccentricities aside, his reputation in his profession was of the highest. His surveys, notes, and maps were models of neatness and accuracy. And as a man in the community, he had many friends, and few enemies.

Charles LaPoint was a man of many activities. He had prospected considerably; had located and patented the Lady Grace, on Ute Mountain, as well as other properties on the hillsides above the town. He owned a half-interest in the general store of Mills and LaPoint. Also, he was a Game Warden. One day during a hot, dry summer, Charley was hoofing it along the trail toward the high country west of Eldora. That summer there was considerable larkspur and loco weed, and ranchmen as a result had lost many head of stock. Often, horses or cows, having eaten these poisonous weeds would either die, or go crazy. The latter plight had befallen a big, black bull belonging to a stockman who had his headquarters in Eldora. As a result, trifles operated to upset the bull and make him very cross. Such was the state of affairs when Charley happened along. The bull spied Charley, but he didn't see the bull, until, hearing a snort and a bellow behind him, he had just time to climb a jack pine and thus escape the sharp horns. The bull was awfully mad at Charley. Charley felt the bull was more than unreasonable; but there was nothing he could do about it. The bull circled the tree, snorted, bellowed, tore up the ground, and peeled the bark off the tree. The day wore on, and night fell. Charley's friends began to wonder, then to worry. A search party, including the owner of the bull finally located him, tired and peevish, but none the worse otherwise for his mishap.

The outcome however, was fatal for the bull.

Lonesome indeed was the life of many an old-time prospector. None more so, perhaps, than that of "Old Bob" Stewart. Bob was an educated Scotchman. He was beyond middle age, slight of build, and somewhat under average height. His graying hair had at one time been black. His merry dark eyes sparkled and snapped when he told a yarn, or joked with a companion. A ragged mustache and beard clothed mouth and chin.

It was a source of wonderment and speculation, among those who knew him, why he should choose to live alone in an ill-built cabin away off on the other side of Arapaho Pass, near the headwaters of Strawberry Creek. He had located several claims in this region, and had prospected considerably along the Continental Divide above timberline.

When his small store of beans, bacon, flour, and tobacco needed replenishing, Bob would hike the ten or more miles from his cabin, over the Pass, and down to Eldora. Usually there were two such journeys during the summer. Promptly upon arriving in town he would celebrate by getting very drunk. And during the week or so he remained, he stayed drunk. Many were his friends among the Boys, and all of them knew from long custom about when his arrivals were imminent. As the celebration progressed, Bob would recite poetry. Burns was among his favorites, and there was always an admiring group of listeners, who called for encores—and more liquor. On the last day of Bob's stay friends would hoist him onto a deal table and gather round while Bob, tears streaming down his weather-beaten face, rendered Annie Laurie. An unforgetable scene.

Once, he was prospecting along Arapaho Pass. It was early in the summer, and there had been a lot of snow the previous winter. At a certain point where Bob had to pass, the trail was cut into a cliff, over which hung a huge drift. Just as Bob reached the point the snow bank plunged over, and to the bottom a thousand feet down. Bob was engulfed in the slide. Not one in a million times would any man have survived such an experience. Bob did. He was too tough to kill that way. Relating the incident later, he made no mention of his personal good fortune, but lamented loudly the loss of his pick. "Shore was a good pick," he mourned.

Another time, so 'tis said, he sold a group of claims to the Fourth of July Mining Company. Straightway he hurried to Denver to celebrate in style. Soon the last penny was spent, excepting only return fare, which landed him, not at Eldora, but at Cardinal, the next stop below. Arriving there, he continued his journey on foot: through Caribou, over the Pass, and thus to his tiny cabin on Strawberry Creek.

 A. R. (Art) Weaver, rancher and cowman of Sugar Loaf, was among the early prospectors in the Happy Valley region. After prospecting for a while he engaged in freighting. He started business "on his own," but later disposed of his outfit, and drove for Jay Church.

One of Weaver's first freighting trips to Eldorado Camp, was with a load of machinery for the Bob Tail Mine, on Spencer Mountain, in the winter of '96. It will be recalled that the road, in those days, led up the gulch from Mary City to Peterson's Lake; thence up the south side of Spencer, over its crest, and to the mine. There were a couple of nasty hair-pin turns in the short mile up that steep south-slope grade. It was apparent to Weaver, when he got to Marysville, that he had too much load for his four horses to pull. So unhitching his team, he went on into the village and tried to get help from Jay Church. The latter had neither time nor team to spare. Finally Art found a man with a light team who said he would help. Hitching the light team as leaders ahead of his own four, and lightening the load somewhat, he made it to the Lake, and part-way up the Spencer Mountain pitch. Reaching the last hair-pin turn, the steepest part of the pull, the load became hopelessly stuck. There was nothing to do but start shoveling snow, and try to extricate the wagon. While so engaged, up the grade came Jay Church, and Jim Entwistle, each with an empty wagon drawn by four big horses, bound for the Village Belle Mine (near the Bob Tail) for a load of ore. The two sat comfortably for awhile, and watched Art shovel snow. Then Church ordered him to get out of the way, so they could pass. Such a demand was of course ridiculous. There was no way for the former to move, and no room for the latter to pass him. Finally the impasse ended by Church hooking his four ahead of Weaver's six; and Art thus got to the top of the hill with his load. Church had to help him, after all!

On the return trip, on this same section of road, things really got messed up! The road, we should have stated, was in places very icy. In spite of the rough-locks on the hind wheels, the wagon began to slide, got out of control, and Art was thrown violently to the ground. in the effort to negotiate the hair-pin turn. Close behind him came Church, his wagon piled high with ore. His outfit skidded into the turn, the wagon upset, and was badly damaged. Entwhistle, just in rear, upset his load on top of Church's.

That all three men, not to mention several horses, were not killed or at least badly injured, was due to Providential dispensation so often witnessed in those times. As it was, none of the three men sustained more than a shaking-up, and none of the animals were injured. The ore, and overturned wagons, lay buried in the snow, until the following spring. To this day, part of that ore lies at the hair-pin turn.

N. M. (Fatty) Mills, another colorful character, was a typical mining camp merchant. He, with his partner, Charles LaPoint, had a general store in Eldora for many years, and for a brief period in Sulphide, until that camp became extinct.

As his name indicated, Fatty was really fat! Almost as broad as he was tall. He reminded one of a monstrous Humpty-Dumpty. In the tradition of fat men, he seemed to be ever in a jovial humor; and from morn till night was never without his,pipe; usually a corncob. This he kept fired at full blast —at least tried to. He never seemed particular as to the brand of tobacco he used: cigars won in card games, crumpled up and stuffed into the bowl, seemed to satisfy him equally with the expensive or non-expensive varieties. Fatty was a favorite with the urchins of the town who were always on hand to help unload the freight wagons bringing supplies to the store. When the last item was carried from the wagon, Fatty always rewarded the volunteer help with a supply of peanuts or candy.

In later years when the Boom excitement had slackened, Fatty, along. with other cronies at the Log Cabin, or at the Denver Club, saloons devoted considerable time to playing Solo, or Slough. To onlookers, his antics during progress of the session would be much more interesting than the game itself: Hands and arms worked like the walking beam of some strange machine: The right hand thumped the table with a playing card, the left at the same time fumbling in vest pocket for a match to fire the pipe: the operation would then be forgotten or suspended in the absorption of the moment's play. Equally as amusing was his reaching across the table to gather in a trick: his great paunch would push up, and tilt the table away from him, and it would seem that cards, chips, glasses, and other appurtenances must fall on the floor on into laps of other players. But they never did.

Fatty's vest was always threadbare down the front, and his shirt-sleeves frayed at the elbows from continuous leaning against the counter at the store together with almost as constant friction with the edge of the card table. He was always one of the Boys. Everyone liked him. And his passing a few years ago left a gap never to be filled. For his type is rapidly becoming extinct.

Billy Walden was known, among other characteristics, for his penchant for whiskey, the frequent occasions on which he indulged it, and the very thorough job he made of getting drunk. It is told that one time while thus "oiled" (and taking on more at the bar) a chance patron entered the saloon, and inquired if anyone inside answered to the name of Walden. The inquiry elicited no reply; whereupon the newcomer remarked apologetically, "Well, it don't make no difference, no ways, only the ugliest dam woman on earth wants him outside." Billy hurriedly downed the drink he had just poured, and staggered through the door, remarking to bystanders in general, "Guess I better go, boys. Thass my or woman."

It often happened that Billy became boisterous and was forced to sober up in jail. On a morning following a particularly violent. spree, the town Marshal, bringing him his breakfast discovered that Billy had kicked a hole through the side of the jail. Asked why he had not escaped through the hole, he replied, "I didn't come in through no hole; and when I leave I'm walking out like a man!"

John C. White, of Nederland, was one of the early stage drivers. He drove a six-line hitch into Eldora for four years, during the height of the Boom. John, his brother Harry, and Mart Parsons of Boulder handled P. Frank Little's turnouts.

Among the many who drove stages during those times John recalls Carl Tallmadge and Owen Cummings, with Tallmadge and Lilley of Eldora; "G-String Jack" Falkerson and Charley Hobb with Hall and Fitting. There were Lew Lacy, Harve Robison, and several others.

Many an exciting and interesting incident John witnessed during those times. The successful handling of six galloping horses hitched to a swaying, lumbering stage coach through the tortuous Boulder Canyon, was no sinecure. We have already told you that the Canyon road was practically a one-way thoroughfare—except for occasional widenings—"turn-outs"—to permit the passing of vehicles. But notwithstanding these provisions, stages sometimes met oncoming vehicles where there was no turn-out. Then the problem might be serious. Not infrequently, in order to solve it, the lighter wagon had to be unhooked and overturned on the roadside. A heavy freight wagon might have to be unloaded, the wagon upset and again reloaded, after passing had been effected. In some cases the team was transposed from front to rear of the wagon and it was pulled back to a turn-out. But with the many apparent traffic hazards, serious accidents in the Canyon were rare.

At the railway depot in Boulder, when the morning train from Denver arrived, bidding for passengers, among competing stage companies was spirited; often