Putting the “L” in Lawrence, Colorado

c 2023 by Jan MacKell Collins

Portions of this article are from Lost Ghost Towns of Teller County, Colorado

The Cripple Creek District of Colorado lies high on the backside of Pikes Peak and fairly spills over with some of the most fascinating history in the west. Die-hard lovers of the Cripple Creek District’s fascinating history will tell you: Cripple Creek got the glory, but it was Victor that had the gold. Indeed, if it weren’t for the hundreds of mines within a stone’s throw of that city, Cripple Creek never would have grown to be the first-class city it aspired to be over a century ago. It is not surprising then, that in those early days the very first town to be platted in the District was Lawrence, which eventually evolved into a Victor suburb.

Lawrence was carved from a portion of Victor C. Adams’ cattle ranch, which had been formed back in 1888. Born in Kentucky in 1853, Adams had lived in Missouri before coming to Colorado. In 1880 he was working as a surveyor in Silver Cliff, in southern Colorado, but soon moved to his new homestead on the southeast slope of Squaw Mountain. By the time of the gold boom in the Cripple Creek District in 1891, Adams was very familiar with the old Cheyenne & Beaver Toll Road over today’s Gold Camp Road from Colorado Springs.

In 1891 Magdalene S. Raynolds, the wife of a prominent banker in Canon City to the south, took an interest in Adams’ ranch as a prime spot for a new town in the Cripple Creek District. Raynolds’ husband, Frank, had founded the Fremont County National Bank at Canon City back in 1874. Mrs. Raynolds, along with her husband’s business partner Dana Lawrence, decided to visit the area. A good portion of Adams’ ranch was on a large, flat meadow and skirted by Wilson Creek. The area was indeed ideal.

On January 4, 1892, Mrs. Raynolds purchased thirty acres of the Adams homestead. The town of Lawrence was platted on January 5, and named for Dana Lawrence. This early date confirms that Lawrence was the first official town in the Cripple Creek District. Shortly afterwards, a stage stop was constructed at the new town so travelers could easily reach the town from Canon City and Cripple Creek. Lawrence was laid out on a grid that was, not so ironically, “L” shaped. The main streets included such presidential names as Lincoln and Cleveland, but also Wilson Avenue for Wilson Creek and of course Raynolds Avenue for the Raynolds family.

It was no surprise that Dana Lawrence’s name was bestowed upon the new town, for he appears to have been more than a business partner to the Raynolds family. As early as 1887, Lawrence was secretary of the Raynolds Cattle Company. Frank Raynolds was president. When Magdalene Raynolds gave birth to a son just six months after the Lawrence plat was filed, the baby was named Dana Lawrence. The last reference to Dana Lawrence the partner, however, appears in some 1894 court documents filed in Fremont County. The documents concerned some water rights and confirmed that Lawrence still owned a portion of the Raynolds Cattle Company.

As of the 1900 census the Raynolds were still in Canon City with their five children. As they graduated high school, each child was sent to prestigious Colorado College in Colorado Springs. At least one of them, an adopted daughter named Pansy, also attended Columbia University. Following the death of Frank Raynolds in 1906, Magdalene took over as president of the Fremont County National Bank.

There is nothing to suggest that the wealthy Raynolds family, nor Dana Lawrence, ever lived at Lawrence in the Cripple Creek District. Rather, some of the earliest settlers were the McCormack family, who settled near the town in 1891 and soon formed a colony numbering over 100 Scotsmen. Upon arriving in the Cripple Creek District, the McCormacks changed the spelling of their name to McCormick in order to pass themselves off as Irishmen. Why? Because in those early days, the people of the District quickly established racial class among its communities. Scotsmen were viewed as foreigners. The Irish were not.

Lawrence’s post office opened on February 3. Other businesses included Bert Cave’s general merchandise store, a laundry and a restaurant. The short-lived Lawrence Miner newspaper reported the news. Two early roads led straight to Lawrence: the Canon City Road along Wilson Creek, and the Florence Road, a.k.a. Phantom Canyon Road. Promoters of both roads also proposed building separate railroads: the Canon City & Lawrence and the Florence Railroad. Preliminary reports for the Canon City & Lawrence Railroad resulted in three studies; in all three cases, surveyors of the hair-raising, narrow trail concluded that building a railroad along Wilson Creek would be impossible. The Florence and Cripple Creek Railroad, however, was built up Phantom Canyon and flourished for a few years before flooding shut it down for good.

Initially, Lawrence proved an ideal place to live. Early mines around the town included the Florence E., the Gloriana, the Home Run, the London, the Lone Pine, the Lulu, the May Belle, the Monte Cristo, the St. Patrick, the Southern and the Tom Bigbee. In time, however, larger mines like the Portland, the Cresson, the Independence and many others were staked up the hill on the other side of Victor. For miners living in Lawrence, walking to work at the latter mines was a job in itself, and many of them moved to Victor. They did, however, make social visits to Lawrence, gathering at The Eureka saloon to chat and drink. The saloon proved especially popular on Saturday nights.

By 1893, Lawrence did not even merit mention in the Cripple Creek District Directory. There was, however, an experimental chlorination plant for processing gold ore. The plant was the brain-child of Joseph R. DeLamar, a Utah mining man who partnered with mill expert Ed Holden to build the plant in 1893. By February of 1894, ads for DeLamar’s mill promised the highest market price for Cripple Creek ores. For a time, even Winfield Scott Stratton brought ore from his famous Independence Mine to Lawrence for processing. By the middle of the year Lawrence had two stamp mills and was described as being “ribbed with gold bearing mineral veins.” But although the Florence & Cripple Creek railroad tracks crossed the southeastern section of town on their way to Victor, they were deemed too far from the town proper to merit a depot.

 Even so, the 1894 District Directory had much to say about the quality of life at Lawrence: “The numerous springs and flowing wells which came to the surface on the Lawrence townsite, together with its lively mountain brook, make it one of the most desirable residence spots of the entire district.” But Lawrence was just not destined to last. Victor’s Sunnyside addition eventually crossed into Lawrence, and Lawrence Avenue was actually located in Victor’s original plat map. The new addition was the first sign that Victor would soon gobble up Lawrence.

When the chlorination plant burned during the winter of 1895-1896, Lawrence’s economy took a dive. Even so, the population stayed steady at 250 through 1896. A church and a school were present. Postmaster Walter Baldwin ran a grocery. There was also a meat market, two livery stables, a hotel and two saloons, including one run by Daniel Quinn. Lawrence also provided an attorney, a cobbler, two bakeries, a barbershop, a blacksmith, a grocery, a laundry, and, at last, a small F. & C.C. railroad depot.

But even with its business district intact, Lawrence was declining. By 1897 people were referring to it as “Oldtown.” As the city of Victor continued growing down the hill towards town, those light in the wallet could still rent one of the rundown residences at Lawrence, but could only access their mail at Victor after the post office closed in April of 1898. Even so, those who loved little Lawrence just didn’t want to give it up. Property transactions also remained steady through 1899, including business with the Cripple Creek Gold Exploration Company. In fact, an amended plat for Lawrence was filed on July 3, 1899. Avenues within the town boundaries at that time included Dewey, Harrison, Logan, Allison, Cleveland, Wilson, Lincoln, Lewis, Raynolds and Independence.

By the following year, businesses in Lawrence included shoemaker Michael Brown, several teamsters, a jeweler, contractor N.A. Chester, butchers Fred Kasaner, Mark Lewman and David Wathan, physician Charles Thornburg, carpenters Henry Levett and Fred Schanuel, tailor Donald McKenzie, cemetery sexton W. R. Brush, the May Belle hotel and Morris Klein’s Lawrence Saloon. George Demorre ran a vegetable wagon. Mrs. W. H. Diggs offered laundry services. There was still a school too, overseen by principal Miss C.E.S. Crosse who made the trek on schooldays from her home in Cripple Creek. Outside of the business district proper, the wide meadows comprising the town were accommodating to larger businesses such as Amos and F.H. Aspey’s brickyard, a slaughterhouse and Edward Richard’s dairy. Most of the 300 residents were miners who lived in Lawrence or the nearby hamlet of Reigerville. But an old electric plant had been abandoned.

Although city marshal George Cooper kept the peace at Lawrence during its twilight years, the town did see its fair share of lawlessness—mostly petty thievery but also shootings over mining wages and claims. In September of 1899, local papers reported on Henry Nelson who fired two shots at former miner Alec Carlson from the Pittsburgh claim. One of the bullets grazed Carlson’s head just above the left eye. Carlson survived, and Nelson was arrested. Then in February of 1900, H.C. Rhien was found hiding at a Lawrence boarding house after bilking several merchants around Colorado out of $8,000 in general merchandise.

In 1901, Victor C. Adams platted more land in Lawrence with partners John C. Adams and John Wilson, but it was too late. By 1902, Lawrence had been officially absorbed by Victor. For many more years, Lawrence survived as a suburb of Victor. As of the 1920 census, ninety five people were left in Lawrence proper. Ten years later, however, residents of Lawrence were counted as citizens of Victor in the census. Although a handful of residents continued living there over the years, the town of Lawrence has settled back into the meadow today, with only one private home from the old days left to prove it was there to begin with.

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

Bandits and Badmen: A History of Crime in the Colorado’s Cripple Creek District

c 2022 by Jan MacKell Collins

The following is excerpted from Lost Ghost Towns of Teller County, Colorado, Cripple Creek District: Last of Colorado’s Gold Booms, the Single Action Shooter’s Society and Brothels, Bordellos & Bad Girls: Prostitution in Colorado 1860-1930.

The last of Colorado’s great gold booms occurred in the Cripple Creek District, high on the backside of Pikes Peak, in 1891. Prior to that, the ranchers populating the area were hardly concerned with crime. The busy bustle of city life had yet to descend on the area. With the discovery of gold, however, the region’s status quickly turned from that of quiet cow camps and homesteads to several rollicking boomtowns within a short distance, each complete with the accompanying evils.

The growth of crime in the newly founded Cripple Creek District grew in proportion to the swelling population as prospectors, merchants, doctors, attorneys and a fair amount of miscreants descended upon the area. Marshal Henry Dana of Colorado Springs once joked that crime was down in his city because the law-breakers had all moved to Cripple Creek. He wasn’t far off. Already, rumors had circulated for some time that the Dalton Gang of Kansas had used the area as an outlaw hideout. As the district grew, the Dalton’s moved on to their fateful end in Coffeyville, Kansas.

But for every outlaw who left the area, there was another one to take his place. Bunco artists, robbers, thieves and scammers soon descended upon the district in great numbers. The Cripple Creek District was still in its infancy and would lack proper law enforcement for some time. Only after Cripple Creek ruffian Charles Hudspeth accidentally killed piano player Reuben Miller while attempting to shoot the bartender at the Ironclad Dance Hall did the city ban guns for a short time. But it was already too late. Cripple Creek’s outlaws were already blazing their own bloody path through history.

By 1894, gangs and undesirables were running rampant throughout the district. “Dynamite Shorty” McLain was one of the first bad guys to make the papers for blowing up the Strong Mine in the district city of Victor during labor strikes. There was a gang hanging around Victor too, headed by the Crumley brothers. Grant, Sherman and Newt Crumley, lately of Pueblo, found the pickings quite ripe and soon fell in with outlaw Bob Taylor and his sister Nell, Mrs. Hailie Miller, Kid Wallace and O.C. Wilder.

Sherman Crumley was especially susceptible to running with would-be robbers. In May of 1895, he and Kid Wallace were arrested after five armed men robbed the newly formed Florence and Cripple Creek Railroad. Apparently a “toady” named Louis Vanneck squealed after receiving less than his share of the loot, which primarily consisted of money taken from passengers. Wallace went to jail, but the popular Crumley was acquitted. Following the incident, the Crumley gang contented themselves with cheating at poker and rolling gamblers in the alleys. Sherman was also a known thief, often stashing his loot in abandoned buildings around smaller communities like Spring Creek just over Mineral Hill from Cripple Creek.

The Crumleys remained in the Cripple Creek District for some time, until Grant shot mining millionaire Sam Strong to death at the Newport Saloon in Cripple Creek in 1902. Grant was not without good reason, for Strong had suddenly pulled a gun on him and accused him of running a crooked roulette wheel. Still, the killing of a man was not a reputation the Crumley’s wished to sustain, and the threesome quickly moved on to Tonopah and Goldfield, Nevada. Grant quickly earned a fine reputation as a man about town, while Newt became quite respectable and even owned the fabulous, four-story Goldfield Hotel for a time. His son, Newt Jr., would become a state senator.

The activities of the Crumleys were actually quite minor compared to those of “General” Jack Smith and his followers at the district town of Altman. Miner, poet and Colorado Springs Gazette-Telegraph columnist Rufus Porter (aka the “Hard Rock Poet”) once wrote a ballad about the town’s first marshal, Mike McKinnon. The honorable lawman died following a gunfight with six Texans (but not, allegedly, before he killed all six outlaws). Porter may have actually been recalling an incident from May 1895, when outlaw General Jack Smith dueled it out with Marshal Jack Kelley. Smith had been running amuck for some time and had been warned by Kelley to stop trying “to run the town in his usual style.” On May 14, Smith wrapped up a night of drinking by shooting the locks off the Altman jail, thereby freeing two of his buddies, who were already incarcerated for drunkenness.

Smith wisely left town, but the next day, a constable named Lupton and one Frank Vanneck located him in a Victor saloon. “I want you, Jack,” Lupton said, to which Smith replied, “If you want me, then read your warrant.” Lupton began reading the warrant, but Smith appeared to go for his gun. The constable quickly pinned the outlaw’s arms while Vanneck shoved a gun to Smith’s chest. Smith was arrested with a bond of $300. He managed to pay the bond quickly, however, and was next seen riding toward Altman “with the open declaration of doing up the marshal who swore the complaint.” Altman authorities were notified as Lupton and Victor deputy sheriff Benton headed for the town. By then, Smith had already gathered a small force of men, including one named George Popst.

The bunch headed to Gavin and Toohey’s Saloon, where Smith started ordering one drink after another. Outside, Lupton and Benton met up with Marshal Kelley and set out in search of the General. Kelley “had just lifted the latch of Lavine and Touhey’s [sic] saloon, when ‘crack’ went a gun from the inside. The ball struck the latch and glanced off.” Kelley threw the door open and shot Smith just below the heart. From the floor, Smith fired and emptied his own gun as Kelley continued shooting him. Outside, Benton fired a shot through the window that hit Popst. “The latter may recover,” predicted the newspaper, “but Smith is certain to die.” Popst also died, about a week later.

Saloon shootings in the Cripple Creek District occurred with such frequency that sometimes, they were hardly regarded as newsworthy. An 1895 article in the Colorado Springs Gazette reported half-heartedly that Joe Hertz, a.k.a. Tiger Alley Joe, was shot above the Denver Beer Hall in Cripple Creek by Clem Schmidt. Hertz staggered down to the bar exclaiming, “That crazy Dutchman shot me!” A few minutes later, he fell to the floor and died. The Gazette neglected to follow up on the crime or make comment on its effect in Cripple Creek. The year 1896 did not prove much better for the lawmen of the district. General Jack Smith’s widow, a prostitute known as “Hook and Ladder Kate,” masterminded the robbery of a stagecoach outside of Victor. In early April, Coroner Marlowe was contending with the likes of J.S. Schoklin, who dropped his loaded gun in a saloon and subsequently fatally shot himself in the side.

On April 25 and April 29 during 1896, Cripple Creek suffered two devastating Cripple Creek that sent residents into a full blown panic as much of the downtown area and hundreds of homes burned. Folks hurried to rescue what they could in the wake of the flames. Thousands of goods and pieces of furniture were piled high in the streets. It was prime picking for looters and arsonists, the latter whom set even more fires to instill further panic so they could rob and steal. In response, firemen, police and good Samaritans beat, clubbed or shot the law-breakers as a way to restore order.

Petty crimes and robberies continued intermittently for the next few years, and brawls and gunfights were common throughout the district. Crimes increased dramatically when the Cripple Creek District rallied against Colorado Springs to form Teller County in 1899. El Paso County clearly did not want to lose its lucrative tax base from the rich mines of the district. Arguments over the matter turned into all-out screaming matches, fights, and shootings. Thus the newly formed county, with Cripple Creek as the county seat, found itself besieged with lawlessness, free-for-all fights in the saloons along Myers Avenue, and high-grading of gold which was so widespread it was hardly thought illegal.

For several more years, law enforcement continued grappling with the outlaw elements around the district. Incidents making the papers included the death of James Roberts, who was clubbed with a gun and left to die on the floor of the Dawson Club as other patrons urged him to the bar for a drink (a portion of Roberts’ skull, used in testimony against his killer, is on display at the Cripple Creek District Museum). Down in Cripple Creek’s infamous red-light district on Myers Avenue, prostitute Nell Worley was arrested for shooting at a man breaking down her front door. Nell was arrested  because the bullet missed its mark and hit a musician on the way home from the Grand Opera House instead. Luckily he was only injured.

Indeed, Myers Avenue was peppered with illegal gamblers, pick pockets and drunks who felt free to wave and fire their guns at will. The red-light district spanned a full two blocks, offering everything from dance halls to cribs, from brothels above saloons to elite parlor houses. Crimes, suicides, death from disease and frequent scuffles were the norm on Myers Avenue, where anything could happen – and eventually did. Today, Madam Pearl DeVere remains the best-known madam in Cripple Creek, and her fancy parlor house, the Old Homestead, remains one of the most unique museums in the west.

Over in Victor, vice-presidential nominee Theodore Roosevelt visited in 1900. His purpose was to speak to the masses of gold miners about the virtues of switching to silver coinage. Clearly, that wasn’t a great idea, and Roosevelt was attacked by an angry mob of protesters as he disembarked from the train. Cripple Creek postmaster Danny Sullivan is credited with keeping the crowd at bay with a two by four until Roosevelt was back on the train. A year later Roosevelt visited again, this time as Vice President. This time he was treated much kinder, although the apologetic city council of Victor kept him entertained for so long that he barely had time to visit Cripple Creek before departing.

When labor strikes reared their ugly head once again in 1903, citizens of the district found themselves pitted against each other. Union and non-union miners fought against one another. Neighbors stopped speaking to each other. Down in the schoolyards, even children fought on the playground over a debate they actually knew little about. Soon, miners were being jailed and/or deported from the district, and one time the entire staff of the Victor Record newspaper was arrested for publishing an unpopular editorial. Things reached a head when professional assassin Harry Orchard set off a bomb at the Vindicator Mine and blew up the train depot at the district town of Independence.

Now, corruption politics reared its ugly head. During a heated election debate in the district town of Goldfield, deputy sheriff James Warford was hired to oversee the elections. According to Warford, Goldfield constables Isaac Leibo and Chris Miller were shot in self defense when they refused to “move on.” An examination of the bodies, however, revealed both were shot from behind. Eight years later, long after the strikes had been settled, Warford was found beaten and shot to death on nearby Battle Mountain. His murder was never solved.

Within a few years, the Cripple Creek District’s gold would soon become too expensive to mine, and folks slowly began moving away. The sharks and scheisters moved on too, in search of fresh pigeons to pluck. It would be many more decades before legalized gambling would find its way to Cripple Creek, bringing a whole new, modern generation of eager residents, as well as the accompanying crimes.

For history buffs, there are still some mysteries remaining in the district yet. In Mt. Pisgah Cemetery at Cripple Creek, a wooden grave marker was once documented as reading, “He called Bill Smith a Liar.” Urban legend has it that after gambling was legalized, renovations of Johnny Nolon’s original casino in Cripple Creek revealed, a body in a strange shaft under the building. During the excavation of an outhouse pit at the ghost town of Mound City during the 1990s, remains of a perhaps quickly discarded revolver were found. These and other mysterious remnants still surface now and then, to remind us of the many other crimes the lively Cripple Creek District once witnessed.

Image: James Roberts’ skull remains on display at the Cripple Creek District Museum. Courtesty Jan MacKell Collins.

Alta Vista, a Tiny Whistlestop in the Cripple Creek District of Colorado

c 2022 by Jan MacKell Collins

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

As the Florence & Cripple Creek Railroad (aka the F. & C.C.) built up Eight Mile Canyon towards the Cripple Creek District during the 1890s, it was soon discovered that the last few miles into the District proved steeper than originally thought. The new railroad needed a way to help the engines make the grade. There may have already been an old stage route in the high meadow where the “helper” town was built, for by the time the railroad reached there, the place had been named Alta Vista, Spanish for “High View.” True to its name Alta Vista, at 9,710 feet in altitude, afforded a beautiful view for miles around. From the whistlestop’s lofty location, passengers could see the District=s working mines, as well as the budding city of Victor.

Alta Vista was never platted and never had a post office. Though small, the village played a prominent role in the railroad history of the District. The railroad officially reached the tiny stop on May 20, 1894. Unlike other stops along the tracks, Alta Vista served several purposes for the F. & C.C. A large station yard allowed for repair of both freight and passenger cars. A “classification yard” was also built, wherein freight cars could be sorted by content and destination. Most importantly, Alta Vista housed extra engines to travel south down the tracks to the railroad stop of Adelaide, attach to trains coming up the canyon, and assist them in making the steep grade up to the city of Victor a few miles away. The helper engines were then disconnected at Alta Vista and turned around to head back down the grade to Adelaide.

The founding of Alta Vista happened to coincide with the first of the Cripple Creek District’s tumultuous labor wars. No sooner had the railroad reached town when miners in the Cripple Creek District began a strike. At issue were demands by mine owners for the men to work more hours at the same rate of pay. On May 29, just over a week after the F. & C.C. debuted at Alta Vista, fifty picketing miners showed up. So did Denver deputies, who had a clear view of Victor and watched in horror as strikers blew up the Strong Mine above town. Newspapers noted that “the entire four miles of winding track to Victor was picketed with sharpshooters.” Following the explosion, according to the Aspen Daily Times, “the road supervisor accordingly required all trains to be searched, beginning with a passenger train coming in that included two coaches, the baggage car and even the engine.” Presumably nothing was found, and the train was allowed to roll on in to Victor.

After the labor war ended, coal, gold ore, mining equipment and supplies continued to be brought through Alta Vista regularly, as well as upwards of six daily passenger trains. Few got off the train, for Alta Vista offered very few services aside from a small one-room depot and some residences for railroad workers. For a mere whistlestop, however, Alta Vista’s presence was both necessary and important because of the classification yard. Because the F. & C.C.’s early equipment often included the use of Denver & Rio Grande train cars, defective cars would be held at Alta Vista to await repair or maintenance.

On March 23, 1895, Alta Vista played a very small part when Sherman Crumley’s gang staged the first robbery of the F. & C.C. Crumley, from a good family in Pueblo, had come to the Cripple Creek District with brothers Grant and Newton. He was in Colorado Springs as early as 1894, when he was arrested in June for participating in the kidnapping, tar and feathering of Adjutant General Timothy Tarsney. The General had come in defense of striking miners who had been arrested during the labor wars. Crumley and his gang were hired to kidnap Tarsney, take him to the barn of mine owner William Otis, tar and feather him, and leave him on the edge of town with orders to walk to Denver.

Sherman Crumley initially pleaded innocent in the ordeal, telling reporters he was messaged to bring a hack from his Colorado Springs livery stable to the Alamo Hotel on South Tejon Street. To his surprise, he claimed, a group of masked men dumped their victim into his hack while one of the men jumped up beside him. “‘Now drive, G___ D____ you,’ said the man with me, sticking a revolver against my ribs. It is unnecessary to say that I did as he told me,” Crumley said. While the newspapers might have bought Crumley’s story, the authorities did not. Crumley and several men were subsequently arrested. Amazingly almost all of the men were released due to lack of evidence and reliable witnesses. The exception was El Paso County Deputy Sheriff Joe Wilson, who confessed and subsequently tried.

Crumley soon relocated to Cripple Creek, forming a gang comprised of himself, Bob Taylor, O.C. Wilder, “Kid” Wallace, W.R. Gibson and Louis Vanneck and planning to rob the F. & C.C. On the day of the robbery, the men stationed themselves just below Hollywood, a southern suburb of Victor, and flagged down the F. & C.C. train just outside of town. Passengers were duly relieved of their wallets, jewelry and other valuables before the robbers disembarked and disappeared into the hills. The engineer was instructed to move on. At Alta Vista, Conductor Paddy Lane jumped off the train and notified authorities. A search led to Taylor’s cabin at the Strong Mine, and the posse eventually found the men partying away their profits in the bars of Victor. The men were taken into custody to await trial. Newspapers expounded on the charges: “It is charged that these parties wounded and attacked Alexander McArthur, the custodian of the United States mails, and took possession of said mails,” reported the Aspen Daily Times. Only Gibson and Taylor were held over for trial before a grand jury. By some miracle, Crumley and the other fellows were released per request from the district attorney and a plea from Wallace’s attorney.

The most exciting event to take place around Alta Vista was a flash flood, which erupted just below the station on Eight Mile Creek on July 30, 1895. Water in the creek, which paralleled the F. & C.C. tracks, reached speeds of thirty miles per hour as it swept down Phantom Canyon towards Adelaide. A helper engine on the way back from Alta Vista made breakneck speed to outrun the flood until it reached another whistlestop, Russell, at which point the tracks diverted away from Eight Mile Creek. But the flood caused much havoc. Amongst the drowned were Lee Tracey, proprietor of Adelaide’s Great Elk Hotel. Also drowned were the hotel cook, Mrs. Carr, as well as a boarder identified as Mr. Watson and three F. & C.C. section men.

It cost a bit to rebuild the tracks, but the F. & C.C. was up and running again by November. Four trains passed through Alta Vista daily. Two of them left Florence at 6 a.m. and 2 p.m.; the other two returned from Cripple Creek at 9:10 a.m. and 2:30 p.m. By 1899, day picnics in Alta Vista’s sunny meadows were a favorite destination amongst District pioneers. Passengers boarded the F. & C.C. at Cripple Creek at 9 a.m., receiving a nice tour of the District before arriving at Alta Vista. Picnic baskets were unloaded and wildflowers picked as the visitors enjoyed the outdoors. At 3:30 p.m., all boarded the train back to Cripple Creek. A round trip ticket cost a twenty five cents.

Curiously, Alta Vista never appeared under its own listing in Cripple Creek District directories. Only in the 1900 directory, which included residents living outside the city limits of the district towns, were a scant few citizens listed at Alta Vista. They were operator S. Aller, operator, F. & C.C. employees Jim Doyle and George Metzger, miner E.H. Niles and Harvey Taylor’s Brickyard. Taylor employed Louis Scott as a brick maker. Alta Vista remained very quiet throughout the early 1900’s, especially after the F. & C.C.’s tracks washed out a second and final time in 1912. In 1913, the Fairplay Flume reported the Alta Vista Mining Company planned to build a new mill at Alta Vista, with an expected cost of $20,000. This apparently never happened.

A 1923 map still shows Alta Vista on Eight Mile Creek in Fremont County. At that point, however, the tiny community was surely no more than a scattering of abandoned houses. In time only the depot remained, standing in a field along what was now the dirt road of Phantom Canyon. The depot has since been moved to Victor, where it serves today as a visitor’s center.

Pictured: An early postcard depicts the Alta Vista Depot before it was moved to Victor and restored.

Lost Ghost Towns of Teller County, Colorado That Are Truly Lost

C 2022 by Jan MacKell Collins

In 2016, I wrote Lost Ghost Towns of Teller County, an account of every known town in what began as a farming and ranching area and turned into the site of Colorado’s last major gold boom. The book focused on towns that are “truly lost,” which have been destroyed, buried or just plain forgotten over time. It was a tough selection to make since certain places, although they are just a shell of what they once were, still contain residents. What I wanted to showcase were the camps, cities and towns that will never be the communities they once were.

In making my selections for Lost Ghost Towns, I also had to leave out certain places for which I could find absolutely nothing other than a plat map, or mention in a newspaper, or referenced in a history book. These are communities which were so short-lived they were quickly lost to history. Some of them were never developed beyond the planning stage. Others were the dreamchild of someone who hoped to create their own slice of heaven somewhere in the 559 square miles that constitute tiny Teller County. They too deserve their place in history, however short that history may be. That being said, here are the towns which did not make it into Lost Ghost Towns of Teller County, but are shared here for you to enjoy.

Custer Cabin is a lone log structure located in Metberry Gulch where Teller County meets with Douglas and Park Counties. The cabin sits along the South Platte River, and is so-named because General George Armstrong Custer is supposed to have stayed there. That would date the building to sometime before Custer’s death in 1876. Others suppose that the cabin was actually relocated to its present site, but the date on that is very fuzzy. To date Custer Cabin has been the victim of vandals carving their names in the walls and even building campfires inside. At this writing, it is unknown whether the cabin is even still standing.

Hayden Park refers to an area between Divide and Woodland Park, and there is supposed to have been a community there of the same name in 1885.

Wilders is only known as a stop on the Florence & Cripple Creek Railroad in 1895, just before the stop of Glenbrook.

Crescent Drive didn’t have a chance during the wild and woolly gold boom of the 1890’s. In 1896, the Castle Rock Journal announced that plans were being made to found a new town, Crescent Drive, roughly two miles southeast of Pemberton (today’s West Creek). It is uncertain whether Crescent Drive was truly located in Teller County, but either way the town was doomed. Why? Because Crescent Drive was promoted as a family town. “No saloons or disturbances of any kind will be allowed within its limits,” warned the Journal.

Fulton‘s plat map was filed in 1896. Three years later, the Cripple Creek Morning Times reported that Fulton’s total property value was assessed at $20.00. Both the map, and therefore the town, have since disappeared from official records.

Badger was located a little over halfway between Cripple Creek and Midway on the High Line of the Colorado Springs & Cripple Creek District Railway, close to the tiny community of Vista Grande. The High Line was one of two electric trolley systems which offered transportation throughout the Cripple Creek District. A ride on the High Line in 1903 cost twenty cents, with stop all along the northern section of the Cripple Creek District between Cripple Creek and Victor. The tracks through Badger were abandoned in 1905, and the High Line shut down in 1922.

Camps, Towns and Cities That Never Made It Further Than the Planning Stage

Brookville

Ellamo Mining Camp

Free Silver

Garden of Eden

Golconda

Hunky Dory

Juanita Mountain Park

Lafayette

Mineral Hills

Rhyolite City

Richmond

Ritten House

Roanoke

Rubicon

Ruby Aspen

Adelaide, Colorado: The Ill-Fated Stop Along the Florence & Cripple Creek Railroad

c 2021 by Jan MacKell Collins

Shortly after gold was discovered in the Cripple Creek District in 1891 merchant James A. McCandless of Florence, to the south, was one of many men who took an interest in generating commerce from the gold boom. In McCandless’s mind was Eight-Mile Canyon, an old, windy and sometimes precarious trail used by Ute natives to travel to the high country and make their summer quarters. With a creek of the same name meandering alongside much of the trail, the canyon was ideal for reaching the District. McCandless and several engineers first surveyed the canyon in 1891. By 1892 Thomas Robinson, whose endeavors included promoting the Florence Electric Street Railway Company, had opened the “Florence Free Road” leading to the District. Around this same time, give a take a few years, the name of the canyon was changed to Phantom Canyon.

Robinson intended for the road through Phantom Canyon to eventually run between the borders of Wyoming to the north and New Mexico to the south. When the Salaman Stage Line debuted on the Florence Free Road, its success inspired plans for the Florence and Cripple Creek State Line Railroad. A map of the new railroad was filed in May of 1892, and the company was reformed as the Florence & Cripple Creek Railroad.

As plans unfolded for the new railroad, Denver & Rio Grande Railroad magnate David Moffat got involved. Under his wing, the F&CC was incorporated in April of 1893, and construction of the railroad commenced the following December. Robinson also remained involved with the project, to the effect that one early camp along the line was named for him. Railroad workers and travelers could stop at Robinson, situated nearly halfway between Florence and Cripple Creek, to buy supplies at a general store or stay at a boardinghouse nearby.

By 1894, for reasons unknown, the name of Robinson had been changed to Adelaide. A depot was constructed for the F&CC, as well as some homes and a water tank for the train. Two men worked at the tank, each in a 12 hour shift, so that it would remain full of water for the locomotive. They, as well as other railroad employees, lived in a nearby bunkhouse with a coal-burning stove for warmth. The former boardinghouse was converted into a hotel called the Great Elk. The station agent’s quarters were in the back of the depot.

Adelaide served a second, more important purpose too. As the F&CC tracks progressed up the canyon, it was soon discovered that the last few miles into the district proved steeper than originally thought. A “helper” town of sorts, Alta Vista, was constructed on the edge of the Cripple Creek District near the city of Victor, wherein engines could travel down the canyon to the station at Adelaide in Fremont County and assist the trains in making it up the grade.

For about a year, everything was grand at little Adelaide, nestled there among the trees and below the majestic rock walls of Phantom Canyon. But there came an evening in July of 1895 when a horrific thunderstorm, typical for late summer in Colorado, let loose with a destructive might like no other.

The Cripple Creek Weekly Journal later described the carnage that ensued. A F&CC train with 14 cars had just been lightly damaged when a small landslide derailed the train just a mile above Adelaide. Four railroad men from the train walked down to the Great Elk Hotel, and Conductor Brown had just wired news of the incident when he chanced to step outside. In the twilight he could see a wall of water, towering some 20 feet high and flowing at about thirty miles per hour, roaring down the canyon, and Adelaide was directly in its path.

Just up the tracks from Adelaide, a helper engine with engineer Mathew Lines and fireman Bert Kreis had just passed through Glenbrook, the closest stop above Adelaide, on its way down from Alta Vista. Lines and Kreis saw the wall of water, quickly stoked the fire in the engine and sped up as fast as they could as the flood chased after them. If anyone saw the engine fly past Adelaide, there does not seem to be a record of it. The engine managed to pass by the next stop, McCourt, before reaching Russell where the tracks diverted away from the flooded creek. Lines and Kreis survived.

Back at Adelaide, meanwhile, the railroad men and the station agent and his family quickly climbed to safety, as well as three other men and “three tramps” who were dining at the hotel. The railroad men turned around in time to see the Great Elk Hotel smashed to pieces by the water and carried away. Tragically, inside were the hotel’s proprietress, Mrs. Carr, as well as waiter Lee Tracy and cook John Watson. Tracy’s body was eventually found nine miles south of Adelaide, near Russell. Mrs. Carr’s body was carried several miles further, almost to Vesta Junction near Florence. Watson was found too, as well as the bodies of three other men who were believed to be section men for the railroad. Three other men surfaced safely in Florence the next day.

In all, the flood washed away ten miles of tracks as well as several bridges. It took quite some time to reach Adelaide and assess the damage, which was estimated at $100,000—over $3 million dollars in today’s money. One would think that would be the end of the F&CC, but the company remained resilient. Over the next year, workers toiled to rebuild the railroad at a cost of just over $238,000. At Adelaide, the station was relocated about half a mile down from its original location on today’s Phantom Canyon Road, well above the creek. A new water tank, a large cistern and a new depot were eventually built at the site.

Although other cloudbursts and occasional floods continued to plague Phantom Canyon, Adelaide remained safe until July of 1912 when another storm sent yet another wall of water crashing down the F&CC tracks. This time, twelve bridges were wiped out and five miles of track were either damaged or lost altogether in the flood. Rather than rebuild again, the F&CC took into consideration its own finances but also those in the Cripple Creek District, where the mining boom was slowly fading away. In 1915 the F&CC was dissolved, and the remaining tracks were removed from the canyon.

Over the last several decades, any structural remnants remaining at Adelaide have disappeared altogether. The only evidence of the whistle stop today is the large cistern, which can be seen below the road along Phantom Canyon. Small signs denote Adelaide and most of the other stops along the route, making for a most scenic drive through the canyon with a little history thrown in. And in Florence, both the McCandless house and the Robinson mansion bear proof that, for a time, the F&CC was a good investment indeed.