Miramont Castle: A Son’s Love for His Mother in Manitou Springs

c 2021 by Jan MacKell Collins

It is all well and good to “honor thy father and thy mother” just as the Bible says. Manitou Springs’ Father Francolon, however, took this commandment to extremes where his mother was concerned.

Father Jean Baptist Francolon was a native Frenchman who first came to Manitou in 1892 to work with the Catholic Sisters of Mercy. At the time, the Sisters of Mercy were the largest Catholic order of nuns in the country, sent to places like Manitou and Cripple Creek to assist the sick and needy. In a time when tuberculosis was running rampant across the nation, Colorado saw an amazing influx of those afflicted who were seeking a healthier climate. The population of tubercular patients throughout the state actually exceeded the number of miners who came to Colorado during the gold rushes of 1859 and 1890!

Rather than live on the grounds of the Sisters’ tubercular sanitarium, however, Francolon purchased a large lot right next door. Within a few years, the eccentric priest took even more unconventional steps when he decided to build a monumental home for his mother, Marie. The castle was named Miramont in her honor.

Work on the castle began in 1895. Francolon commissioned Manitou builders Angus and Archie Gillis and combined Romanesque, Moorish and Gothic styles to create what would be known as the Castle of the West. The outer walls of the castle were two feet thick and made of hand-cut native green sandstone. Overall, nine different styles of architecture were applied to reflect childhood places that Francolon fondly remembered. There are very few four sided rooms in the building. An octagonal shaped chapel originally served as Froncolon’s library.

By 1897 the 14,000 square foot structure was completed with four floors and an amazing 46 rooms. These included a drawing room, dining room, a great hall and eight fireplaces, including one measuring 16 feet wide and weighing 400,000 pounds, allegedly with a secret passageway behind it. Many of the ceilings were painted in gold leaf. Plumbing and electricity, very modern for the time, were installed as well.

Curiously only 28 of the rooms, mostly located on the second and third floors, were used by Father Francolon and his mother. The kitchen, complete with an intricate intercom system to the rest of the house, was rarely used since the Sisters of Mercy usually brought prepared meals to the castle via a tunnel from the sanitarium next door.

Allegedly, Marie Francolon slept in a bed with four towering posters that was formerly owned by Marie Antoinette or Empress Josephine. Some claim the bed was literally built in Marie’s bedroom and therefore cannot be removed without destroying it. Whimsical stories such as this have surrounded the castle for years, including just why Father Francolon abruptly left town in 1900 and returned to France. Marie Francolon passed away just a few months later.

In 1904 the castle was deeded to the Sisters of Mercy. When the sanitarium burned in 1907, the Sisters occupied the castle full time and called it Montcalme. After Francolon’s death in 1922, the Sisters hung on a few more years before closing the castle in 1928. It was then used for retreats until it was sold in 1946 and converted to apartments.

In 1976, the Manitou Springs Historical Society managed to purchase the castle for just $60,000. Over 260 broken windows were repaired. Staircases and other woodwork that were long ago burned for firewood were lovingly restored or replaced. Today Miramont remains as one of the Colorado’s most intriguing museums, as well as a monumental tribute to a strange little priest who dearly loved his mother. You can learn more by visiting the museum’s website here: https://www.miramontcastle.org/

Image courtesy of Miramont Castle

Colorado City, Colorado: Gateway to the Goldfields

c 2019 by Jan MacKell Collins

Portions of this article have appeared in the Colorado Gambler magazine and the Ute Pass Vacation Guide

In 1859, the rough and tumble town of Colorado City debuted as the portal to Ute Pass, next to what would eventully become Colorado Springs, Colorado. The pass was an ancient Indian trail skirting up the north base of Pikes Peak and on to the gold fields on the western side of the state. As  more travelers utilized the pass in their quest for gold, Colorado City grew in the form of stick‑built shacks and log cabins. Later, fine stone and brick structures would mingle with tidy wood bungalows and impressive Victorian homes.

Everything a prospector could want was available in Colorado City, including mining supplies, pack mules, grub and grog. There were also a variety of vices, from drinking and dining to poker and prostitution. Local merchants made a tidy profit on the transient population, which flowed constantly in and out of town.

When Colorado Springs was platted in 1872, liquor was banned within its city limits. Then in 1878, Manitou Springs formed to the west. Colorado City, nestled snugly between the two resort towns, prospered: not only as a “sin city” but as a blue collar town as well. A number of railroad workers were employed by the Colorado Midland Railroad. Local mills, namely the Golden Cycle Mill, processed gold ore shipped by train from teh famed Cripple Creek District on the back side of Pikes Peak, and other area mines. The city became a mesh of church‑going families, would‑be prospectors, wild folk and nomads.

Look down Colorado Avenue today and it is easy to envision a Colorado City of the past. Horse races and shoot outs took place on the dirt streets with alarming frequency. Wagons and horses sent pedestrians scurrying as the street bustled with life. The old buildings sported every business house imaginable, and the shouts of street hawkers mingled with the bawdy music flowing from the saloons.

Upwards of 24 taverns once lined the south side of Colorado Avenue. Many of them connected via underground tunnels to the respectable businesses on the north side of the street. In back of the saloons, madams like Laura Bell McDaniel, Mamie Majors and Nellie White were the reigning pleasure queens. The houses of “ill fame” spanned four blocks on Cucharras St. The lawmen and temperance unions of Colorado City levied their own public war against the shameful nightlife, but it was sometimes a losing battle. When the city outlawed liquor, some of the saloon owners and prostitutes started their own town, Ramona, outside the city limits.

On the north side of town, churches, lodges, meeting halls and more respectable social places mingled among the quaint homes and upstanding citizens of the town. Still, there were some real characters adding much color to Colorado City. Prairie Dog O’Byrne’s taxi wagon held a cage with a pet prairie dog inside and was pulled by two tame elk. Judge Baldwin was an honorary judge who was known for his love of libations. Anthony Bott, a founder of the town, also made a name for himself in the Cripple Creek District. Dusty McCarty was a blinded miner who honed his skills at bartending and was the best source of where to go and what to do in town. Bob Ford, the killer of Jesse James, dealt faro in Colorado City before going off to Creede and getting killed.

In 1917 Colorado City was annexed to Colorado Springs, and Colorado City’s wild days ended. Since that time, the city has evolved into an historic section of the Pikes Peak region with a variety of novelty  shops, boutiques and eateries. Neighborhood tours reveal an outstanding array of unique architectural designs, including a few pre-manufactured homes that were literally purchased from catalogs—in essence, the first modular homes in the state.

The Old Colorado City History Center at 1 South 24^th Street houses a museum with photographs and hundreds of artifacts outlining Colorado City’s wild and woolly past. To see historic Colorado City on the way to Cripple Creek, take Highway 24 west at Colorado Springs and turn right at 21^st Street. For more information, call the Old Colorado History Center at 719-636-1225 or the Old Colorado City Associates at 719-577-4112.

Buckskin Charlie: A Proud Indian

c 2019 by Jan MacKell Collins

Portions of this article first appeared in the Ute Pass Vacation Guide in 2000.

Long before Colorado’s Ute Pass became Highway 24, an ancient Indian trail once skirted the base of Pikes Peak. Much of it comprises Ute Pass as we know it today, with traces of the original path veering off and onto the highway.

The Utes were among Colorado’s first residents. Ute Pass served as the gateway for their tribes, who worshiped the magical bubbling waters at today’s Manitou Springs. They often camped up and down the pass, even after the formation of Colorado City in 1859, Colorado Springs in 1871 and Manitou Springs in 1872. Frequenters of Ute Pass included Buckskin Charlie, one of the last tribal leaders of the old Ute nation in Colorado.

Born circa 1842, Buckskin Charlie was an original Colorado native. His father was Ute and his mother Apache, but both died before Charlie was 11 years old. The young boy eventually became a warrior, participating in many battles against plains Indians. One such skirmish left the scar of a bullet wound on his forehead. Later, he learned to speak English and served as a scout for the U.S. Army. He earned his famous nickname for the number of antelope he killed during an expedition on behalf of the United States.

Buckskin Charlie also made fast friends with Ouray, head of the Mouache Utes. The two men often made trips to Washington D.C. and talked treaties with the government. It was Ouray who appointed Buckskin Charlie his successor when he stepped down as leader of the Utes. When Ouray died in 1880, Charlie assisted in his secret funeral ceremony.

Photographs of Buckskin Charlie often depict him wearing a moustache, a rare characteristic among Native Americans. As the leader of his people, Charlie encouraged his tribe to let their children be educated by whites and attend church services. He also dressed in white men’s clothing when visiting the Capital. Ever wary, however, government officials took note of Charlie’s preference for his native Ute tongue and his refusal to outlaw peyote and other ceremonial aspects of his native culture. Still, Charlie was patient and sensible in his dealings with U.S. officials, even when arguing over broken treaties. He was respected by both whites and his tribe, and reigned over the Ute Nation for an amazing 56 years.

The turn of the century held many changes for residents of the Pikes Peak region. In recognition of the passing of an era, the El Paso County Pioneer’s Association decided in 1912 to dedicate the old Ute Pass trail to those who had used it long before any white man. Buckskin Charlie and his tribe were cordially invited to the ceremonies. Scores of Utes, dressed in full regalia, rode the pass. As the party passed into French Creek Valley just below Cascade, the Indians burst into ceremonial song. Buckskin Charlie led the pack, declaring, “I seventy years old and never been so happy.”

Buckskin Charlie continued living a colorful life. In 1925, he assisted in the moving Ouray’s remains to the cemetery at Ignacio. Throughout his career, he maintained his outstanding reputation and personally met with seven United States presidents. He died in 1936 and is buried beside Ouray at Ignacio, in Southern Colorado.

Pictured: Buckskin Charlie and his sons.

Manitou Spring’s Mystic Sisters and Redstone Castle

c 2018 by Jan MacKell Collins

Portions of this article originally appeared in the Colorado Gambler magazine.

Photo credit: Rufus Porter

Manitou Springs, Colorado has long been known as a haven to hauntings and the supernatural. It is no wonder, when one considers such odd and wonderful treasures as the Redstone Castle. As one of Manitou’s many intriguing landmarks, the castle and its history exude the macabre charm that embraces the city even today.

Redstone Castle’s charming history begins with the mysterious Crawford sisters, Emma and Alice. Emma and her mother first appeared in Manitou during the late 1880’s, residing on Ruxton Avenue. Like so many, young Emma initially came to Manitou seeking relief from tuberculosis in the high mountain air. Her fiancé, one Mr. Hildebrand or Hiltbrand, was working as a civil engineer for the Pikes Peak Cog Railroad. Recuperating by way of much rest and little exercise, Emma spent much of her time concentrating on her psychic powers. The occult was a vivid fascination in the Victorian era, and the fact that Emma and her family were professed psychics was thought more intriguing than strange in a place like Manitou.

One day in 1890, Emma claimed her Indian spirit guide had enticed her to climb nearby Red Mountain, a feat she accomplished despite her illness. Evidence of the climb came in the form of Emma’s red scarf, which she tied to a tree at the top. She died that summer, just before she was to be married. Wanting to fulfill Emma’s dying wish to be buried on Red Mountain, her fiancé tried to buy some ground atop the mountain. Unable to do so, Hildebrand hired twelve friends to carry the casket up there anyway, and Emma was buried at her beloved spot. Soon, stories of Emma’s ghost wandering around Red Mountain began circulating, and her grave became such a popular attraction that fellow spiritualists wore a trail to get there.

Emma’s mother remained in Manitou after her daughter’s death. She was eventually joined by Emma’s younger sister Alice in 1908. Alice was a budding actress whose career had been interrupted by a marriage. Upon her arrival in Manitou, Alice sought comfort from her impending divorce from her husband, a man named Snow, by renting Redstone Castle on top of Iron Mountain. The remote mansion, located only a short distance from Emma’s grave, was just the ticket for getting one’s head together.

Or was it?

Redstone Castle was actually constructed in 1890 as a model home for the Manitou Terrace housing development. Built by brothers Robert and William A. Davis, the sons of developer Isaac Davis who first arrived in 1874, the castle was meant to draw real estate investors and residents to Manitou. The three-story exterior consisted of native red sandstone and included a beautiful turret with tiny gable windows in the top and two beautiful covered porches. Eighteen rooms with ten-foot ceilings and six-foot high windows allowed for a spacious and well lit interior. Nine tower windows provided breathtaking views of Manitou and Garden of the Gods. Woodcarver Sam Yarnell was commissioned to install the beautiful woodwork inside. It was a truly exquisite home.

Despite the grand prototype, however, no lots were ever sold at Manitou Terrace. Builder William Davis was probably the first occupant of the castle, but it was being leased out by the time Alice Crawford arrived. Despite her dead sister’s fame, nobody seems to have thought much about Alice and Redstone Castle. But when the eccentric divorcee began hosting seances, stories of eerie goings-on and ghosts at the castle became rampant. Some theorize that Alice’s acting abilities helped her stage her seances, which included mysterious sounds, odd lights and dancing furniture. One regular attendee was W.S. Cosby, one of the dozen men who had carried Emma Crawford’s casket to the top of Red Mountain. Cosby remembered “tables and chairs walking all over the place and all sorts of funny sounds coming from different places.” Alice’s mother also claimed to hear Emma playing the grand piano on numerous occasions, even though her daughter had never lived in the castle.

The wild tales about Alice Crawford and her dead sister did little to enhance the actress’ career. In 1910 the lonely lady tired of life and attempted suicide at the castle. It was a badly bungled attempt. Alice only succeeded in shooting herself in the knee and setting her bed on fire. The media jumped on the incident in typical dramatic fashion with a headline reading, “Woman in Flames and Shot in Bleak ‘House of Mystery.’” Not long afterwards Alice left Manitou forever, leaving behind a debt of nine months’ rent.

Incidentally, neither Alice or her mother appear in census records for 1900, nor 1910. Emma also fails to appear on record, although a 1969 newspaper article featured her photograph. The only clues to the Crawford ladies lie in a mysterious woman named Jennett Crawford, who appears in the 1900 census as a boarder with William and Emma Hooper. Curiously, the record neglects to give any information about her, including her age, birthplace or occupation. The first name of Mother Crawford remains unknown. There is no record of Alice’s divorce and where the women even came from is still a mystery.

In the wake of Alice’s departure, Emma’s grave once more gained notoriety when the Louisville & Nashville Railroad made a failed attempt to build an incline railroad to the summit of Red Mountain in 1912, complete with a casino. Emma’s burial spot was in its path, so her casket was exhumed and moved to the south slope of the mountain. Then in August of 1929, two boys found part of Emma’s skull exposed after a particularly rainy summer. Authorities gathered the remains and stored them at Manitou City Hall while trying in vain to find her mother or sister. In 1931, Emma was buried a third time—this time, in Manitou’s Crystal Valley Cemetery. The grave is unmarked and no trace of her sister or mother was ever found, adding to the mystery surrounding the Crawford girls and Redstone Castle.

In the years since, Redstone Castle has been the subject of ghost lore and high school dares while serving as a private residence and occasionally, a bed and breakfast. It is also amazingly well preserved, its various owners recognizing its beauty and significance. They say the ghost of Alice Crawford is still there, despite her unhappy experiences while living in the castle. As for Emma, she is remembered each Halloween when Manitou Springs hosts its annual Emma Crawford Coffin Races, a tradition since 1994.

Frozen Together in Time on Pikes Peak

c 2015 by Jan MacKell Collins

It was the height of tourist season that August day in 1911, when Mr. and Mrs. William A. Skinner learned a hard lesson about the perils of hiking unprepared on Pike’s Peak in Colorado.

The couple were first spotted at the printing office of the Pike’s Peak Daily News, a tourist paper with advertisements and lists of people hiking the peak that day. Eighteen year old Alex Gress, a guide who led burro parties to the summit, was walking over to the printing office when he noticed Skinner and his wife. The editor of the newspaper, a Mr. Wilson, was trying to talk them out of continuing on their quest to reach the summit. It was already late in the afternoon, and the couple were without a proper guide.

Later, Gress remembered the woman’s argument against postponing the hike. “I came all the way from Texas to climb Pike’s Peak,” she said, “and that’s just what I’m going to do. Nothing’s going to stop me.”

When the Skinners first set out to conquer Pike’s Peak earlier that day, the weather was pleasant and sunny. By the time they reached the News office, however, snow clouds were looming on the horizon and Mr. Skinner looked rather peaked from the already strenuous hike. Both husband and wife were 50 years old, and neither had dressed adequately for the sudden storms which overtake Pike’s Peak year round.

Mrs. Skinner was certainly determined. She not only refused offers of a rental coat, but also Mr. Wilson’s invitation to spend the night at his cabin. Resisting her husband’s pleas to give up the hike, Mrs. Skinner pushed doggedly on with her devoted husband trailing behind her. The last anyone saw of them was at Windy Point, about two miles below the summit, around 4 p.m. Mrs. Skinner was hiking several yards in front of her husband, who appeared on the point of collapse even then.

Over two feet of snow fell during the night. Even after Alex Gress safely guided his group to the summit, the party had to wait several hours after sunrise before the visibility allowed them to trek back down. Little did the group know as they descended the trail that they were walking right by the Skinners. By then the couple was nearly buried under a foot of snow and well beyond help anyone could provide.

When the bodies were spotted the next day, it was 6 p.m. before they could be retrieved. Mrs. Skinner, lying face down, had crossed her hands over her face. Close by was Mr. Skinner, his face upturned to the skies. The couple were taken back down to Manitou, where their bodies were shipped back to Texas for burial.

Of the personal belongings found with the Skinners, two items in particular were worthy of note. One was a set of accident insurance policies, each with a clause prohibiting payment if death came due to overexertion in Colorado. The other was a letter from a friend back in Texas, whose jovial warning rang true in the most chilling fashion: “I hope you are having the time of your life in Colorado, and that you will not freeze to death on Pike’s Peak.”