Lippincott'S Magazine Of Popular Literature And Science, Volume 26 December, 1880. by Various None (smart ebook reader .txt) 📕

Noted Rocky-Mountain Explorers,  The Hospitalities Of The Old Fort. Many

Times Were Its Soft Walls Indented By The Arrows Of Besieging Indians,

But Its Bloodiest Tragedy Was Enacted In 1854,  When The Utes Surprised

The Sleeping Company And Savagely Massacred All.

While These Events Were Transpiring At The Old Fort A Party Of Mexicans

Had Journeyed From The South,  Crossed The Arkansas River And Formed A

Settlement On The East Side Of The Fontaine. A Characteristically

Squalid And Miserable Place It Was,  With The Dwellings--They Scarce

Deserved The Name Of Houses--Built In The Side Of The Bluffs Very Much

As Animals Might Burrow In The Ground. Part Dug-Out And Part Adobe Were

Those Wretched Habitations,  And The Shed-Like Parts Which Projected From

The Hill Were Composed Of All Conceivable And Inconceivable Kinds Of

Rubbish. Sticks,  Stones,  Bits Of Old Iron,  Worn-Out Mattings And

Gunny-Sacks Entered More Or Less Into The Construction Of These Dens,

All Stuck Together With The Inevitable Adobe Mud. The Settlement

Extended Some Distance Along The Side Of The Bluff,  And The Sloping

Plain In Front Was Dignified As The _Plaza_. Perhaps The Dark-Hued

Immigrants Expected A Large Town To Spring From These Unpromising

Beginnings,  And Their Plaza To Take On Eventually All The Importance

Which A Place So Named Ever Deserves In The Spanish And Mexican Mind.

But The Pike'S Peak Excitement,  Originating In 1852 With The Finding Of

Gold By A Party Of Cherokee Indians,  And Reaching Its Culmination In

1859,  Brought A Far Different Class Of People To Our Rocky-Mountain

Outpost,  And A Civilization Was Inaugurated Which Speedily Compelled The

Ancient Mexican Methods To Go By The Board. Thus,  Fontaine Was Soon

Absorbed By The Rising Town Of Pueblo,  Though The Ancient Dug-Outs Still

Picturesquely Dot The Hillside,  Inhabited By Much The Same Idle And

Vagabond Class From Which The Prosperous Ranchman Soon Learns To Guard

His Hen-Roost.

The Growth Of Any Of Our Far Western Towns Presents A Curious Study. In

These Latter Days It Frequently Requires But A Few Months,  Or Even

Weeks,  To Give Some New One A Fair Start Upon Its Prosperous Way.

Sometimes A Mineral Vein,  Sometimes The Temporary "End Of The Track" Of

A Lengthening Railway,  Forms The Nucleus,  And Around It Are First Seen

The Tents Of The Advance-Guard. Before Many Weeks Have Elapsed Some

Enterprising Individual Has Succeeded,  In The Face Of Infinite Toil And

Expense,  In bringing A Sawmill Into Camp. Soon It Is Buzzing Away On The

Neighboring Hillside,  And The Rough Pine Boards And Slabs Are Growing

Into Houses Of All Curious Sizes And Shapes,  Irregularly Lining The Main

Street. Delightfully Free From Conventionality Are Matters In These New

Towns. Former Notions Of Things Go For Naught. Values Are In a

Highly-Disturbed State,  And You Will Probably Be Charged More For The

Privilege Of Sleeping Somewhere On The Floor Than For All The Refined

Elegancies Of The Fifth Avenue. The Board-Walks Along The Street,  Where

They Exist At All,  Plainly Typify This Absence Of A Well-Defined Dead

Level Or Zero-Point In The Popular Sentiment; For The Various Sections

Are Built Each Upon The Same Eccentric Plan That Obtains In The

Corresponding House. The Result Is An Irregular Succession Of Steps

Equally Irregular,  With Enough Literal Jumping-Off Places To Relieve Any

Possible Monotony Attending The Promenade. If The Growth Of The Town

Seems To Continue Satisfactory,  Its Houses--At Least Those In Or Near

Its Central Portions--Begin Gradually To Pass Through The Next Stage In

Their Development. During This Interesting Period,  Which Might Be Called

Their Chrysalid State,  They Are Twisted And Turned,  Sometimes Sawn

Asunder,  Parts Lopped Off Here And Applied Elsewhere,  And All Those

Radical Changes Made Which Would Utterly Destroy Anything Possessed Of

Protean Possibilities Inferior To Those Of The Common Western Frame

House. But,  As A Final Result Of This Treatment And Some Small Additions

Of New Material,  At Last Emerges The Shapely And Often Artistic

Cottage,  Resplendent In Paint,  And Bearing Small Resemblance To The

Slab-Built Barn Which Forms Its Framework. If The Sometime Camp Becomes

A City--If Auraria Grows Into A Denver And Fontaine Develops Into

Pueblo--The Frame Houses Will Sooner Or Later Share A Common Fate,  That

Of Being Mounted On Wheels Or Rollers For A Journey Suburbward,  To Make

Room For The Substantial Blocks Of Brick Or Stone. By This Curious

Process Of Evolution Do Most Of Our Western Towns Rapidly Acquire More

Or Less Of A Metropolitan Appearance.

[Illustration: Mexican Interior.]

Pueblo,  While Not A Representative Western Town In These Respects,  Yet

In Its Early Days Presented Some Curious Combinations,  Most Of Them

Growing Out Of The Heterogeneous Human Mixture That Attempted To Form A

Settlement. The Famous Green-Russell Party,  On Its Way From Georgia To

The Pike'S Peak Country,  Had Passed Through Missouri And Kansas In 1858,

And There Found An Element Ripe For Any Daring And Adventurous Deeds In

Unknown Lands. Many Of The Border Desperadoes,  Then Engaged In That

Hard-Fought Prelude To The Civil War,  Found It Desirable And Expedient

To Leave A Place Where Their Violent Deeds Became Too Well Known; And

These,  Together With Others Who Hoped To Find In a New Country Relief

From The Anarchy Which Reigned At Home,  Fell Into The Wake Of The

Pioneers. Pueblo Received Its Full Share Of Kansas Outlaws About This

Time,  And,  What With Those It Already Contained,  Even A Modicum Of Peace

Seemed Out Of The Question. Here,  For Instance,  Was Found Living With

The Mexicans By The Plaza A Quarrelsome Fellow Named Juan Trujillo,

Better Known By The Sobriquet Of Juan Chiquito Or "Little John," Which

His Diminutive Stature Had Earned For Him. This Worthy Is Represented As

A Constant Disturber Of The Peace,  And He Met The Tragic Fate Which His

Reckless Life Had Invited. From Being A Trusted Friend He Had Incurred

The Enmitv Of A Noted Character Named Charley Antobees,  Than Whom,

Perhaps,  No One Has Had A More Varied Frontier Experience. Coming To The

Rocky Mountains In 1836 In The Employ Of The American Fur Company,  He

Has Since Served As Hunter,  Trapper,  Indian-Fighter,  Guide To Several

United States Exploring Expeditions,  And Spy In The Mexican War As Well

As In The War Of The Rebellion. Antobees Still Lives On The Outskirts Of

Pueblo,  And His Scarred And Bronzed Face,  Framed By Flowing Locks Of

Jet-Black Hair,  Is Familiar To All. The Frame That Has Endured So Much

Is Now Bent,  And Health Is At Last Broken,  And About A Year Since An

Effort Was Made By Judge Bradford And Others To Secure Him A Pension.

But Twenty Years Back He Was In His Full Vigor And Able To Maintain His

Own Against All Odds. Whether Or Not It Is True We Cannot Say,  But

Certain It Is That He Is Credited With Causing The Death Of Juan

Chiquito. An Indian Called "Chickey" Actually Did The Deed,  Lying In

Ambush For His Victim. Perhaps Few Were Sorry At The Mexican'S Sudden

Taking Off,  And In a Country Where Judge Lynch Alone Executes The Laws

The Whole Transaction Was No Doubt Regarded As Eminently Proper.

Among Those Who Came To Pueblo With The Influx Of 1858 Were Two Brothers

From Ohio,  Josiah And Stephen Smith. Stalwart Young Men Were These,  Of A

Different Type From The Kansans And Missourians,  Yet Not Of The Sort To

Be Imposed Upon. They Were Crack Rifle-Shots,  And Even Then Held Decided

Opinions On The Indian Question--Opinions Which Subsequent Experiences

Have Served To Emphasize,  But Not Change. And What With Constant

Troubles With The Savages,  As Well As With The Scarcely Less Intractable

Kansans,  Their First Years In The Far West Could Not Be Called

Altogether Pleasant. Many A Time Have Their Lives Been In danger From

Bands Of Outlaw Immigrants,  Who,  Dissatisfied With Not Finding Gold

Lying About As They Had Expected,  Sought To Revenge Themselves Upon The

Settlers,  Whom They Considered In Fault For Having Led The Way. Their

Personal Bravery Went Far Toward Bringing To A Close This Reign Of

Terror And Transforming The Lawless Settlement Into A Permanent And

Prosperous Town. Still In The Prime Of Life,  They Look Back With

Pleasure Over Their Most Hazardous Experiences,  For Time Has Softened

The Dangers And Cast Over Them The Glow Of Romance. And While None Are

More Familiar With Everything Concerning The Early History Of Pueblo,  It

Is Equally True That None Are More Ready To Gratify An Appreciative

Listener,  And The Writer Is Indebted For Much That Follows To Their

Inimitable Recitals.

About The First Work Of Any Note Undertaken In connection With The New

Town Was The Building Of A Bridge Across The Arkansas. This Was

Accomplished In 1860,  When A Charter Was Obtained From Kansas And A

Structure Of Six Spans Thrown Across The River. It Was A Toll-Bridge,

And Every Crossing Team Put At Least One Dollar Into The Pockets Of Its

Owners. But Trouble Soon Overtook The Management. While One Of The

Proprietors Was In New Mexico,  Building A Mill For Maxwell Upon His

Famous Estate,  The Other Was So Unfortunate As To Kill Three Men,  And

Was Obliged,  As Steph Smith Felicitously Expressed It,  To "Skip Out."

Thus The Bridge Passed Into Other Hands,  Where It Remained Till It Was

Partly Washed Away In 1863. The Following Little Matter Of History

Connected With Its Palmy Days Will Be Best Given In The Narrator'S Own

Words: "We Had A Blacksmith Who Misused His Wife. The Citizens Took Him

Down To The Bridge,  Tied A Rope Around His Body And Threw Him Into The

River. They Kept Up Their Lick Until They Nearly Drowned The Poor Cuss,

Then Whispered To Him To Be Good To His Wife Or His Time Would Be Short.

He Took The Hint,  Used His Wife Well,  And Everything Was Lovely. That

Was The First Cold-Water Cure In Pueblo,  And I Ain'T Sure But The Last."

This Incident Serves To Illustrate The Inherent Character Of American

Gallantry,  For,  However Wild Or In Most Respects Uncivilized Men May

Appear To Become Under The Influence Of Frontier Life,  Instances Are

Rare In Which Women Are Not Treated With All The Honor And Respect Due

Them. Indeed,  I Have Sometimes Thought That The General Sentiment

Concerning Woman Is More Refined And Reverential Among The Bronzed

Pioneers At The Outposts Than Under The Influence Of A Higher

Civilization.

The Arkansas,  Ever Changing Its Winding Course After The Manner Of

Prairie-Rivers,  Has Long Since Shifted Its Bed Some Distance To The

South,  Leaving Only A Portion Of The Old Bridge To Span What In High

Water Becomes An Arm Of The River,  But Which Ordinarily Serves To Convey

The Water From A Neighboring Mill. We Lean Upon Its Guard-Rail While

Fancy Is Busy With The Past. We Picture The Prairie-Schooners Winding

Around The Mesas