Jack Haverly and His Colorado Towns for Suckers

c 2023 by Jan MacKell Collins

Portions of this article have appeared in Lost Ghost Towns of Teller County and Colorado Central magazine.

For Jack Haverly, life was truly an up and down affair. The man who gained fame and fortune on the theater circuit during the mid-to-late 1800’s was well known throughout America over his long career. But he also filed bankruptcy so many times that newspapers truly lost count of just how often Haverly found himself broke. It could be said that in his day, Haverly was a force to be reckoned with, an idea man who tried everything once and twice if he liked it. He was also said to be quite lucky, for as much as he was down, Haverly nearly always bounced back up. His many friends never hesitated to loan him money when he needed it, knowing he would pay it back the next time fortune smiled upon him again. “Jack Haverly was a fine man and a lovable character,” wrote Edward Le Roy Rice in 1911. “None did more for minstrelsy than he, and some of the greatest names in theatricals were once associated with him.

John H. “Jack” Haverly was born Christopher Heverly in Pennsylvania in 1837. As a young man he worked as a “train boy”, selling peanuts and candy on passenger trains. He also worked as a “baggage smasher” for the railroads, and did a brief stint as a tailor’s apprentice. By 1864 he had moved to Toledo, Ohio where he opened his first variety theater. A misspelling on a poster changed his name from Heverly to Haverly, and the new moniker stuck.

Acquisition of the theater in Toledo was subsequent to the formation of “Haverly’s Minstrels”, which gave its first performance on August 1 that year. Within a short time, Haverly was partnering with other promoters and visiting grand places across the United States and as far away as Toronto, Canada. During his travels, Haverly married Sara Hechsinger, of the famed singing duo known as the Duval Sisters. When Sara died in 1867, Haverly married her sister, Eliza, later that year. Neither marriage resulted in children.

Theater life appeased Haverly greatly. Over time he bought and sold numerous theater houses, and also headed up a number of traveling troupes. The man was also remembered by some as “a compulsive gambler and speculator” who sometimes threw his money away as quickly as he made it. Somehow, however, Haverly made it work. At the height of his career, he owned six theaters and an amazing thirteen road companies.

Haverly’s greatest achievement was probably in 1877, when he merged four of his minstrel companies to form “Haverly’s United Mastadon Minstrels.” After the fashion of P.T. Barnum and other entertainment promoters of the day, the “Mastadons” consisted of some forty performers and a marching band. Upon arriving in town for a show, the troupe would march up and down the streets, spreading themselves out as thinly as possible so that while performers marched through one part of town, the band played in the other. The Mastadons became so famous they even performed seventeen shows in London during 1880 alone.

It is unlikely that Haverly was with the performance in London, for he was busy discovering the mining boomtowns of Colorado around 1880. Folks around Gunnison remembered him as “famous theater and minstrel millionaire,” and a “colorful and key figure in the development of early Gunnison.” Indeed, Haverly “bought up fine ranch land just east of Gunnison, had a town named for him, invested heavily in silver mines at Gothic and Irwin, bought coal land up in Washington Gulch, and purchased several ranches and a sawmill up Ohio Creek.” The town of Haverly proper consisted of a group of claims, which the entrepreneur advertised “extravagantly.”

Although Haverly was initially welcome in Gunnison country, others took his claims of fortune with a grain of salt. At the nearby town of Irwin the local newspaper, the Elk Mountain Pilot, had nothing good to say about Haverly’s investments. “Take a man from his line of business and place him in a business entirely foreign to his own,” sniped the paper, “and he will surely make a wreck of it.” True to the newspaper’s prediction, Haverly’s first namesake town in Colorado ended up being “essentially a promotional scheme.” Newcomers almost immediately started squabbling over who owned what claim. Eventually, the forty or so miners at the camp “‘jumped’ the town and left Mr. Haverly ‘out in the cold.'” The town of Haverly survived for a few more years, taking on different names and residents until the place faded away altogether. Jack Haverly, however, had long ago moved on.

Haverly continued to conduct a successful theater tour in Colorado. Not only was he continuing his minstrel shows, but he began forming opera companies as well. The names of his shows generally changed as much as his address. In 1880, “Haverly’s Church Choir Opera Company” performed Gilbert and Sullivan’s H.M.S. Pinafore at Barnum Hall in Greeley, the Central City Opera House, the Denver Opera House and the Tabor Opera House in Leadville. The outfit came complete with its own orchestra and starred such celebrities of the day as C.M. Pyke, Dora Wiley and Pauline Hall. Like everywhere else, Haverly’s show received rave reviews. Success was sweet; an 1881 article in the New York Clipper commented on sixteen of Haverly’s minstrel shows and opera companies. In addition, Haverly’s company had offices in Boston, Chicago, Denver and New York.

With so many troupes on the road, it was impossible for Haverly to travel with each one. Instead, he hired capable theater managers and road agents. In 1883, manager J.H. Mack accompanied the Colorado circuit. In February 1883 alone, the troupe—under the name “Haverly’s English Opera Company”—performed Strauss’s Merry War at the Colorado Springs Opera House, the Fort Collins Opera House, the Tabor Opera House in Leadville and the Tabor Grand Opera House in Denver.

Keeping up with his many traveling troupes could not have been easy, and Haverly often spread himself too thin to conduct his businesses well. In spite of the success of the Colorado circuit, his finances were soon taking a dive. Throughout much of 1883, the New York Times was full of articles regarding Haverly’s many legal and financial troubles. Haverly carried on, however, borrowing money to invest in various endeavors, paying back the money to his lenders, then losing everything all over again on a bad risk. By 1884 his fortunes were said to be beginning “their final collapse”. The enterprising man, however, wisely decided to start investing in mining as a means to make additional money. It is true, his love for speculation in the mines often proved costly, but at least he remained successful with his shows.

Throughout 1884 and 1885, Haverly’s shows continued performing in London and even Scotland. He was still dabbling in theater and doing quite a good job of it when he visited the Cripple Creek District in January of 1896. According to the Cripple Creek Morning Times, the minstrel man had “bade farewell to minstrelry several years ago, and when his face becomes sooty now it is from a miner’s lamp instead of a makeup box.” Haverly told the reporter that he planned to be in the area for a couple of weeks. “I came here to see if I couldn’t get hold of some property in this district,” he said. His plan was fortified with some extra cash he had lying around from his mining investments in Clear Creek County.

Within a short time, Haverly had purchased “a plateau known as Bull Hill when in the height of its prosperity,” according to the Hoosier State Chronicle in Indiana. Due to his rags-to-riches-to-rags reputation, however, few investors showed much interest in partnering with him. After some fast talking, Haverly was finally able to convince some prospects into having a look at his mines themselves. The properties did look mighty promising, enabling Haverly to acquire partners. The group filed a plat and divided up some town lots. They naturally named the new town Haverly. As reports circulated about the findings on Bull Hill, one hundred miners and several saloon keepers converged on the new town within just four days.

“Jack Haverly is rich again,” announced the Hoosier State Chronicles. The paper went on to illuminate Haverly’s up-and-down financial career, but ended by announcing that Lady Luck had smiled upon him once again. This time, he was said to have made upwards of $200,000 by investing in mines around the Cripple Creek District. Also, “the story has been further told in Chicago that Jack would soon be a millionaire.” The folks of Chicago remembered Haverly well, for at one time he purchased the controlling interest of the Chicago Jockey Club race track for a whopping $150,000.

From all appearances, Haverly was back on top. “Colonel Jack Haverly and associates have a shaft down 20 feet on a well-developed vein in Camp Haverly,” announced the Mining Industry & Review magazine in July of 1896. “A new steam hoist has lately been put in operation and ore is being saved for a shipment, which will be made sometime next week. A double shift of men  will be put to work on Monday.”

One source says that Haverly simply wanted no more than a town named for himself, platting the town, selling lots at high prices and skipping town. If the story was true, it may have been because Haverly was seeking vindication for having been swindled before. Yet no evidence of a swindle at Cripple Creek appears in local papers, although neither does news of the new town. In fact, Jack Haverly’s name is curiously absent from Colorado newspapers until June of 1897 when it was simply noted he was staying at the Sheridan Hotel in Telluride. The next mention of him came in September, when it was reported he was on his way back to New York via Kansas with a plan to get back in showbiz.

Haverly later declared that he had lost $250,000 by investing in the mines of Colorado. But he hadn’t lost faith in the entertainment industry. By 1898 his famed minstrel troupes were on the road again. He stayed in New York for only a short time, bouncing between there and Salt Lake City beginning in 1899. His last endeavor was starting a small museum in Brooklyn, New York in May of 1901. Just a few months later, on September 28, Jack Haverly succumbed to some longtime heart problems. His body was shipped back to Pennsylvania for burial. Newspapers all over the country published Haverly’s obituary, paying tribute to the flamboyant theater man who had entertained the country for decades. One of his good friends, writer Eugene Field, paid tribute to him in the New York Times with a poem titled “Memories of ‘Jack’ Haverly”:

‘Jack’ Haverly, ‘Jack’ Haverly, I wonder where you are.
Are your fortunes cast with Sirius, or ‘neath some kindlier star?
How happens it we never see your wondrous minstrel show,
With its apt alliterations, as we used to, years ago?
All the ebon aggregations that afflict these modem times
Are equally unworthy our prose and of our rhymes.
And I vainly pine and hanker for the joys that used to come
With the trumpets um-ta-ra-ra and the big base drum.
‘Jack’ Haverly, here’s a-hoping that some bright propitious star
Beams kindly down upon you, whereso’er your interests are,
For my heart is warm toward you for the joy you gave me when
I was a little rambling tyke; and I were glad again
To see you marching up the street with your dusky knights of song—
By George, I’d head the gang of boys that whooped your way along;
And I’d stake that all our plaudits and acclaims would over come
The trumpet ump-ta-ra-ra and the big base drum.

Today, theater history buffs fondly remember the man who entertained the world with his minstrel shows and opera companies. In the Cripple Creek District, however, Jack Haverly seems to have had the last laugh.

Goldfield, the Family Town of Colorado’s Cripple Creek District

c 2023 by Jan MacKell Collins

Portions of this article appear in Lost Ghost Towns of Teller County.

Of the many towns once located within the Cripple Creek District, Goldfield reached third largest in population during its time. While the city is now no more than a bedroom community of nearby Victor, Goldfield is recognized as one of the most active cities in the District during the 1890’s and early 1900’s. The city lies at an altitude of 9903′ feet on the outskirts of Montgomery Gulch, better known now as the Vindicator Valley. To the east, Big Bull Mountain hovers over Goldfield. To the west is the former town of Independence, surrounded by the ghost mines of Teresa, the Golden Cycle, the Portland #1 and #2, the Findley, the Independence, and the Vindicator.

Goldfield’s beginnings date to 1894 when three men, James Doyle, James Burns, and John Harnan struck it rich with the Portland Mine. The Portland’s name was derived from Portland, Maine, where the “two Jimmys,” as they became known, grew up. With the Portland in full swing the partners decided to form their own town. The men established the Gold Knob Mining and Townsite Company on a large pasture where, some twenty years before, a forest fire had left an expansive clearing.

By the time the new town was platted in January of 1895, Burns and Doyle had wisely changed the name of Gold Knob to the more attractive name of Goldfield. Burns was put in charge of the company, laying out the streets and selling lots, starting at $25.00 each. A number of mining claims were also made on the future townsite; because of that, property was sold with surface rights only.

Goldfield’s post office opened on May 5, 1895. Referred to as the “City of Homes”, Goldfield was a family town. Modern, wooden sidewalks graced the streets, and in later years locals said the Sunday school was the longest running institution of its kind in the Cripple Creek District. Indeed, unlike the wild town of Altman just half a mile away, Goldfield’s citizens were far more interested in establishing schools and churches than saloons. Two newspapers, the Goldfield Gazette and the Goldfield Times, set about reporting news of the day.

Not ironically, all of Goldfield’s town officials belonged to the Western Federation of Miners Union. Some of them had already been through a labor war in the district during the previous year. Perhaps the best-known union supporter in Goldfield was the first mayor, John Easter. There is no doubt that Easter was hoping for a civilized, prominent city in Goldfield. Not only did he immediately establish a fire department, but he also hired a city physician at $300 per year. There was even a “pest house” for confining those with contagious diseases (and almost immediately, pest house attendant Albert Pheasants was fired for coming to work drunk.). Everybody, from the dogs of the town to the few saloons, had to have a license and prostitution was strictly outlawed. A town engineer was paid to maintain the roads at $10 per day.

By the end of its first year, Goldfield had a population numbering 2,191 residents. This figure may have included the town of Independence, located across Montgomery Gulch and divided from Goldfield by the tracks of the Midland Terminal Railroad. Two of the main avenues, Independence and Victor, led to those two towns respectively.

By 1896 the population of Goldfield proper was a thousand people. A new mayor, Edward M. Sullivan, was elected as was a new marshal, Allen Combs. As with the pest house attendants, a city ordinance stipulated that the town marshal could be replaced if found too drunk to work. The ordinance was not without merit, since Goldfield had grown to include two assayers, an attorney, two boarding houses, one dentist, three groceries, one hotel, two meat markets, three doctors and three saloons. A reservoir made use of several natural springs in the area, supplying water to ditches under the sidewalks and fire hydrants on every corner in town. The Florence & Cripple Creek Railroad reached Goldfield in November. Passenger service between Goldfield and Victor, a little over a mile away, commenced soon after.

Goldfield continued to progress at a rapid rate through 1897. The F. & C.C. built a new depot, and by 1898 the city had street lights and telephone lines. The latter were provided by the La Bella Power Plant, constructed by railroad tycoon David Moffat. The plant was designed to provide power not just to Goldfield, but also to outlying towns and mines. Street car service was provided at five cents a ride. Those with their own transportation were made to obey the six mile-per-hour speed limit in town. Another city ordinance prohibited loud or profane language in public.

By 1898, Goldfield had reached its status as the third largest city in the Cripple Creek District. Water was supplied to the town of Independence across Montgomery Gulch. But Goldfield appears to be the exception to the typical frontier gold town. Social activities included lots of parades, picnics and concerts versus the usual saloons, shady ladies and shoot outs. In 1899, possibly in an effort to compete for the county seat of newly formed Teller County, Goldfield was officially incorporated. However, the loss of the county seat to Cripple Creek was not surprising.

By 1900, Goldfield’s population had risen to 3500. The Cripple Creek District Directory described Goldfield as a “lively little city,” which it was. Homes ranged from simple miner’s cabins to gaudy Victorian architecture, and were well kept with nice lawns. Each resident was responsible for keeping the sidewalk in front of their home clean of debris and snow. A local junk dealer provided trash service. Seven boardinghouses, a variety of stores, nine groceries, five doctors, nine restaurants and nine saloons served residents. Clark’s Opera House provided nightly entertainment. There were also several societies, including a Masonic lodge and the Red Men. Three railroads: the Florence & Cripple Creek, the Midland Terminal and the Colorado Springs & Cripple Creek District, afforded transportation. Twenty thousand tons of gold ore were being transported from Goldfield annually. In fact, it was estimated that three fourths of the ore shipped from the District went through Goldfield. With all these amenities, it could be said Goldfield made an exemplary city, save for one tiny incident. A Miss Luella Vance of Goldfield served papers on mining magnate Sam Strong at the close of his wedding to another woman. Luella’s claim was one of many imposed on Strong, a philandering womanizer and a drunk besides. Miss Vance received $50,000 to aid in the mending of her broken heart.

From all appearances, Goldfield retained its union status as a second labor strike loomed on the horizon in 1903. Interestingly, there does not appear to have been much strike activity within city limits. In fact, it would appear that rather than witness messy fisticuffs and battles within its refined city limits, Goldfield chose to handle things outside of town instead. When the National Guard was called to Battle Mountain in the midst of the strike, they quartered just above Victor. Yet a photograph of the settlement is identified as “Camp Goldfield.” Furthermore a “bull pen” was erected to imprison striking miners nearby, safely outside city limits. Even so, a number of citizens left town for safer pastures. One man named Jack Ried, however, worked as the town marshal after being shot during labor war scuffle in Victor. The injury resulted in the amputation of Ried’s leg. In Goldfield, he was fondly referred to as “Peggy.”

By the end of the strike in 1904, about half the homes of Goldfield were empty, just like they were at Altman and Independence. Of the three cities, however, Goldfield alone elected to start fresh. Accordingly, non-union citizens impeached the union city officials. Elected in their place were officers who played neutral parts in mining activities. By 1905, Goldfield was holding steady with a population of 3000. There were still three churches, four social halls and seven lodges, although a number of other businesses had fallen to the wayside. The last of the city’s many newspapers, the Goldfield Crescent, closed down its press in 1909.

As the mining boom of the 1890’s subsided, Goldfield’s population was dropping steadily by 1911. The business district dwindled down to one assayer, one barber, one dairy, four stores, four groceries, two meat markets, one doctor and two saloons. The downsizing was accented by the death of John Easter in 1914. Nearly every citizen of Goldfield accompanied the first mayor’s body to his burial at Sunnyside Cemetery.

Somehow, Goldfield stayed busy during the waning years of the gold boom. By 1915 the population was holding steady at 1,200, and new businesses in town included three auto garages – the start of a whole new era. Two churches and three lodges were still functioning, and little else changed save for the abolishment of the saloons with statewide prohibition in 1917.

With time, however, the whole district slumped as the mines slowly became too expensive to operate. The wooden sidewalks in Goldfield slowly disappeared. As they rotted or fell away, a popular pastime became searching the ditches underneath for long lost money or other items. It is said even a few gold coins surfaced on occasion. But Goldfield was slowly being forgotten. The post office officially closed in 1932, and book chronicling the infamous labor wars neglected to even mention Goldfield. Even the Cripple Creek Times Record stopped publishing Goldfield news after 1939.

By 1954, only 60 people still called Goldfield home. One of them was miner Rufus Porter, aka The Hard Rock Poet. Porter first came to the district in 1917. Now, he was writing a column for the Colorado Springs Gazette Telegraph, penning poems about the old days in the Cripple Creek District, and publishing his own set of history booklets. Among the characters in Porter’s Goldfield memoirs was Jack Condon, who once fought Jack Dempsey in Victor. It also was according to Porter that long after Goldfield ceased electing mayors, one Billy Butler became an honorary mayor for a number of years. Butler was also a former miner, and described as having a good heart and being respected by all who knew him. Upon retiring, Butler purchased a mimeograph machine and published his own newsletter.

Thirty-five people, including Porter, still lived in Goldfield during 1969. At that time Goldfield’s businesses had all closed, and it was officially considered a ghost town. Yet the city hall still contained its huge safe with “City of Goldfield” etched in gold leaf on its door. A few years later, however, the City Hall had been relieved of its safe, as well as valuable documents and ledgers, which began appearing for sale on various websites. In the meantime, some of the remaining homes and buildings began swaying with time. Some fell with an unheard sigh into the weeds around them. Still others retained much of their original flavor, lovingly looked after by the residents within.

Today, Goldfield’s city hall and fire station still stand. In the last forty years alone, citizens have garnered support for the preservation of Goldfield in the way of the Goldfield Restoration Association, along with assistance from the Cripple Creek District Museum and the Victor Lowell Thomas Museum. Thanks to their efforts, Goldfield remains as a charming bedroom community, its history intact.

Pictured: The author at Goldfield City Hall, circa 1985

Gillett, Colorado: A Gambling Man’s Town

c 2022 by Jan MacKell Collins

Portions of this article are excerpted from Lost Ghost Towns of Teller County

Before it was even a town, Gillett – located high in the mountains on the backside of Pikes Peak near the famous Cripple Creek District – was known by many names. Shortly after the town of Beaver Park was platted along today’s Highway 81 in 1892, a nearby suburb became known as West Beaver Park. Later, the name was changed to Cripple City. As the Midland Terminal Railroad built tracks from Divide, the name was changed again to Gillett.

The new city was renamed for railroad man W.K. Gillett, who, along with Henry Collbran, Irving Howbert and Harlan Lillibridge, were making big plans. The partners created the Midland Terminal Railroad, a spur of the Colorado Midland Railroad which would turn at Divide and head toward the Cripple Creek District (Gillett wanted to name the new railroad the “Cripple Creek and Gold Gulch Railroad,” but when the directors of the Colorado Midland objected to such a whimsical name, the moniker was changed to the Midland Terminal). The new company was officially formed in October 1893.

Early buildings at Gillett included log cabins but also hewn wood structures. The new town attracted such influential men as Albert E. Carlton, who had designs on a new freight company in Cripple Creek, as well as Charles Tutt and Spencer Penrose, two longtime friends from Colorado Springs who had already made much money in the copper mines of Utah. Gillett was the perfect place for the two young wealthy bachelors to build an entertainment mecca. Accordingly, Tutt and Penrose built an exclusive horse track and casino and called it “Sportsman’s Park.”

Gillett was platted on January 19, 1894. Of the budding city, “a site with more picturesque surroundings could not have been chosen,” crowed the 1894 Cripple Creek District Directory. Located in a vast meadow with stunning views all around, Gillett would be the first town reached by the Midland Terminal on its way into the Cripple Creek District. Plans were underway to build a $150,000 “railway hotel station,” meant to be a “resort hotel adapted for the comfort and enjoyment of leisure seekers and tourists, and for the residents of the district.” The main drag through Gillett was named Parker Street after First National Bank president J.M. Parker. The avenue was soon lined with tidy, false-fronted buildings and aspen trees which had been planted for accent. In anticipation of the railroad, a nice wood depot and telegraph office also were built.

The Midland Terminal reached Gillett as planned, chugging gloriously into town on Independence Day in 1894. A month later, the post office opened, on August 29. Since the mountains between Gillett and Cripple Creek were too steep on which to build a railroad, a stage road led to the latter town instead as the Midland Terminal continued building through Beaver Park and toward the city of Victor. On September 11, Pullman sleeper service began on the rail lines between Denver and Cripple Creek. Now, sleeper passengers could disembark at Gillett depot and catch a stage into Cripple Creek, or stay the night in town. Other travelers also stayed the night in Gillett before traveling on, bringing extra commerce to town.

Gillett did suffer minor social issues. Tutt and Penrose soon realized that their wealthy friends were quite content patronizing the elite Broadmoor Casino (the precursor to the fabulous Broadmoor Hotel) in Colorado Springs, rather than making the trek all the way to Gillett. Thus, the racetrack at Sportsman’s Park never opened for more than two days a week and eventually scaled down to just a few Saturdays in the summer. The newly-built Monte Carlo Casino suffered the same fate and was eventually converted to a school for the children of the town. Even budding madam Pearl DeVere initially purchased property in Gillett, but soon moved to Cripple Creek, where she became the city’s most famous harlot. Even so, a city jail was built at Gillett to imprison any lawbreakers who happened along. Outside of town, the newly erected Beaver Park Stamp Mill processed ore from the Lincoln Mine (alternately known as the Lincoln & Gibbons), as well as the King of Diamonds. There was also the Gillett Reduction Works. Additional employment could be found at the shops for the Midland Terminal.

In August 1895, the only “legal” bullfight in the United States took place at Gillett. The event was the brainchild of Joe Wolfe, owner of Cripple Creek’s prestigious Palace Hotel and described as a “sometime confidence man.” Wolfe partnered with Wild West performer and rodeo cowboy “Arizona Charlie” Meadows to form the “Joe Wolfe Grand National Spanish Bull Fight Company.” As a means to secure the support of the town council, Wolfe appointed them as the board of directors of his company. But it was Charlie Meadows who was Wolfe’s ace in the hole.

The six-foot-six tall, long-haired, mustachioed man from Arizona surely made a presence to the citizens of Gillett. Meadows’s career in rodeo began at Payson, Arizona in 1884. In 1888, he hosted a “cowboy contest” in Prescott where he earned a reputation as a “crack shot” and the “fastest man with a rope in the business.” A few months later, he was a winning participant in Prescott’s first rodeo.

Meadows used his skills and accompanying flair for finesse to eventually turn from rodeo cowboy to showman. For seven years, he had toured several countries with a Wild West show, worked with Buffalo Bill’s traveling troupe, and eventually formed his own show. He was well known throughout the West by the time he hooked up with Joe Wolfe. Together, the pair borrowed $5,000 to build a five-thousand-seat amphitheater at Gillett, print tickets and posters, and secure real matadors and bulls from Mexico for the event. Wolfe’s contribution to the town included the purchase of nine and a half blocks of real estate.

Almost immediately, people began voicing their opposition to the upcoming event. The Colorado Springs Gazette in particular published several editorials. “If it be illegal to import bulls for fighting at the Atlanta Exposition, surely it must be illegal to import them across the border for fighting at the Gillett Exposition,” argued one article. “Here is a chance for Francis Hill of the Humane Society to write to the Secretary of the Treasury, informing him that it is proposed to import bulls for the same purpose of fighting and ‘keep them out of El Paso County.’”

The authorities did ultimately stop the bulls and their keepers at the Texas border. But the matadors still came, and Wolfe and Meadows managed to wrangle some local bulls who were anything but the fighting variety. Things took an equally nasty turn when Wolfe invited renowned bunco artist Soapy Smith to set up his games of chance outside the entrance to the event. Soapy took so much money from his victims that some of them could not afford the $5 ticket to get in. Those who did gain admittance on the first day were shocked as the bulls were led to a cruel death. Fewer than three hundred spectators attended on the second day. On the third day, Wolfe and Meadows folded the show and were promptly arrested for animal cruelty. In all, the total proceeds were a mere $2,600.

Gillett citizens quickly overcame their embarrassment over the infamous Gillett bullfights. By late 1895, two daily trains were still bringing plenty of passengers to town, and citizens had their choice of four newspapers to read on the trip. As of 1896, 1,500 residents had access to numerous businesses, including three doctors and an amazing nine saloons. Father Volpe’s Catholic Church and a Congregational Church were built in 1897. By 1899 the Golden Crescent Water and Light Company, owned by the Woods brothers in Victor, was servicing Gillett.

Unfortunately, Gillett proved to be too far from the mines of the Cripple Creek District, and much of the town was eventually vacated. Even with eight trains passing through daily, the population in 1900 was only a little over five hundred people, including those living at nearby Monte Carlo Lakes. At least there were still a few bars, and the school still supported a handful of students with Miss Mary A. Wilson as principal. The Co-Operative Brick Company on the outskirts of town was supplying bricks for surrounding businesses, homes, and mines. Eventually, however, both the Lincoln and King of Diamonds mines played out, and the Beaver Park Stamp Mill became useless.

The 1902 district directory commented that Gillett’s “remoteness from the working mines has told against it, and at the present time its population is at a very low ebb.” A hopeful endnote stated, “It is not at all improbable that something may occur at any time which will ‘boom’ the town and make it one of the largest in the District.” But the numbers didn’t lie; the directory reported Gillett’s population at a mere three hundred people.

Gillett’s last newspaper, The Forum edited by Mayor James Parfet, closed in 1905. Now only 250 people remained in town, and neither church had a minister. The post office, run by Charles Adams for many years, closed briefly in 1908 but reopened six months later. The reprieve was brief, for the 1910 census counted only forty-four people living in town.

In 1911, old Gillett entered a new era as a ranching community when the Vetter family purchased much of the land there, and the post office closed a final time in 1913. Gillett’s once grand buildings sank into the ground, were torn down, or burned. Rufus Porter, the miner-turned-writer of the District town of Goldfield, remembered a man named Greasy Miller who lived at Gillett during its waning years. Greasy “burned down a score of houses by raking the ashes from the stove onto the floor. When the shack caught fire he’d simply move to another one.”

In time, some families moved their loved ones’ graves from the cemetery to other local graveyards. The pews and the pulpit from Father Volpe’s Catholic Church were moved to St. Peter’s Church in Cripple Creek. The old church was used as a hay barn until it burned in 1949, and in 1965 a flood from a dam break above town washed away Gillett’s remaining buildings. Today, Gillett is known as Gillett Flats. The decaying ruins of the church, which sit on private land, can be spotted from the highway.