Foreword: These pages were written by Mr. Charles H. Keaton when he was in his 81st year. He would have been thrilled beyond words if he had known that he had contributed a bit to old Montana's history in Its making. How he loved to find anyone interested in his story. When he was 81 years of age, he determined to write it down and did so during the summer of 1930. writing in long hand, word for word, and his memory even then was remarkably accurate. He was born In St. Joseph, Missouri in September of 1849 and was therefore ten years old when Abraham Lincoln came to St. Jo.
My father’s name was James Jackson Keaton, familiarly known among relatives and friends as Keaton. He came from Virginia in 1844 to St. Joseph, Missouri, which was then known more as a boat landing than a town. He was a contractor and builder. As St. Joseph had just been founded he had a fine field for operation. He helped build the first brick house ever erected in the town, not far from where the Francis depot now stands. When Kansas was opened for settlement he stepped across the river seven miles into the territory and took up a homestead. I was in my eleventh year when many people from the "Mountains" as the Gold Agent was generally called, returned, telling stories of the vast herds of antelopes and the thousands of buffalo that roamed this land. All supplies had to be hauled to Colorado in freight wagons pulled by either mules or cattle teams. A big price was paid for freight delivered in Denver. Majors, Russell and Waddell were the heaviest freighters on the road. These men had many trains, usually ten or twelve wagons to a train. It was no trouble at all to get freight to haul at any of the points along the Missouri River, either Atchison, St. Jo or Omaha. Keaton decided to rig up some ox teams and load for Denver.
PLUM CREEK
After one left Plum Creek, which is around 250 miles from Denver, there was no substance which had even the resemblance of wood, until one arrived at Fremont's Orchard which was 50 miles from Denver. At Plum Creek every one that knew the road took what wood they could haul, but were forced also to go on the plains and gather the refuse from the buffalo, which was known from one end of the road to the other as buffalo chips. When rainstorms came from the northwest down through Nebraska, accompanied by a forty mile gale in the torrential form it didn’t add to the comfort of the fellows sleeping on the ground without shelter. The best refuge was under a wagon, for they did not have tents usually, and if they had had the boys wouldn’t have put them up. The road going west through Kansas was ran by Kearney, Nebraska, which is not many miles from the Platte and reaches the river for the first time after leaving Kearney. We saw a few Indians not far from the Fort. They were peaceable and harmless when they were not on the warpath. At times they would have a big meeting after sending word to the different bands, by the Head Chief, and there they would place their grievances against the whites before the council and debate on them. It was similar to our Congress. They called this making medicine, and if they decided to go on the war path, orders were given by the big chief how to proceed. Then the red paint would go on their faces and they would become weird and hideous looking. Their very appearance would throw a feeling of terror and fear into any white person. It was undoubtedly the intention and policy of the government to deal fairly with the tribes but some time would elapse after a treaty was made before they would be at peace with the whites. The unscrupulous Indian Agents, who handled the annuities and supplies, were supposed to distribute in a fair manner to the red man what justly belonged to him, but they saw to it that they "got theirs first" This is said to have occurred in a number of cases. The Indians were wise enough to know that something was wrong and they just took revenge on any person they could. But in any event their lack of economy in using their supplies would have left them destitute long before the time the government had figured it The landscape had been level so far that a canyon was very noticeable and, when one had experienced the monotony of traveling day after day over a country that was destitute of any vegetation except the grama (buffalo grass) it was surely pleasing to the eye to see a cold spring and the verdant vegetation surrounding the spring and the tall stately cedars growing in the canyon. This was Morrow's Ranch. There was something about it that made anyone remember its appearance in detail. The journey was uneventful until we came to Plum Creek, so called from a small thicket of plum bushes that produced the sourest and most uneatable variety of bog-plums that probably ever disgraced the big red plums. A spot that was always dreaded by the freighters was the sand hills not far from O'Fallens Bluffs; here the river came close to the bluffs and there was no room for a road on the bottom and the hills were just a bed of rolling sand. Two teams would be hitched to one wagon and pulled up the hills, which was a distance of three miles, then they would return and get the remaining wagons. . This was always a day's travel and a hard one.
DENVER
The first road that was travelled to Denver followed the South Platte all the way, but later a road was made which left the river seventy-five miles east of Denver and was called the cut off road, which ran almost due west. Several dry camps had to be made on that road for there was water only at certain points fifteen or twenty miles apart. The population of Denver in 1861 was between three and four thousand. This was mostly a floating population. The streets were lettered east and west and names north and south. At that time my uncle, Alderson Keaton, ran a hotel on the corner of Larimer and G Streets. The school house, a long frame building between Larimer and Blake was the only schoolhouse in town. Professor Lamb, who was teaching in this school at the time, giving a report of attendance, says there were one hundred and twenty-five pupils all told. The room had no partitions. All classes assembled here under the tutelage of three teachers. The larger and more advanced pupils were in the front of the building under the Professor and the other classes were divided between the Misses Sophers. The only theatre in town was located on Larimer between C & D streets. This was a one story building with a broad awning. A large triangular sign was placed at the outer side of the walk on which the awning rested. For accommodations of teams there were corrals, enclosures with pens along the outside fence to keep cattle in. Hay was always on hand to supply the needs of the stock. A camp house was always one of the attractions, with an old burnt-out sheet iron stove for the patrons to cook their meals on, and just about smoke their eyes out. This liberal accommodation was free. Close by was a room that one could make his bed down on the floor and if he did not have a bed he could lie down anyway. For this accommodation the urbane and gentlemanly host would add twenty-five cents to the bill in the morning for each man.
To VIRGINIA CITY
In the Spring of 1864 there was an epidemic of fever that ran high, caused by the wonderful reports of the discovery of rich gold mines at Bannack, Montana. These reports were brought in by some who had been in Montana , and had just returned to the States. Keaton, my father, with a lot of others, was lured to this spot of promised wealth, and immediately began preparations to make the journey. Freight wagons were equipped for hauling freight to Virginia City, Montana. It was Keaton's Intention not to return to the east; consequently he took his family with him, consisting of his wife, three children, a sister- in-law and her two children. As the country to be gone over was entirely different from the country they had just passed over along the Platte River, they were naturally looking forward to the trip with a great deal of anticipation. When we reached Hams Fork, which is a tributary of the Green River, and ordinarily a placid, beautiful and clear running stream, we found it full to its banks, due to the melting snow from the mountains. There were apparently fifty wagons waiting for the water to subside so they could be taken across on the Ferry Boat that two men were running at this crossing. The Ferry Boat would only carry three thousand pounds at once, which was less than the weight of any wagon. Consequently If they were taken across on the ferry boat it would necessitate unloading down to the capacity of the boat. As the charge was three dollars per wagon it made it almost prohibitive, especially for those who had a number of wagons. Keaton, who was a man used to overcoming most any obstacle, seeing the dire necessity of some drastic move, that night at the campfire suggested putting in a bridge. Henry Garrison, one of the bystanders said, "What the Hell, are you talking about, putting in a bridge." "Why not," said Keaton. "You have nothing to build it out of." "Do you see that mountain yonder," said Keaton. Garrison answered, "Anybody with half an eye can see that." "Well, what's the matter with unloading some wagons, going up to that mountain ten miles away, getting the timber and hauling it down here to build a bridge, by gosh ! "Everyone except the immigrants and those who had only one or two wagons fell in with the plan and were willing to work under Keaton’s supervision. Before daybreak the next morning the camp fires were blazing and the scent of coffee permeated the air. The old familiar call from the wagon boss, “Roll out boys” was heard, by the time the sun had peeped over a far away mountain n the start was made. They stayed all night on the mountain, as it was too far to get the timber and return the same day, but the second day they pulled in with stringers forty feet long. This gave them a margin of five feet on each side, as the stream was only thirty feet wide. By noon the third day the bridge was finished. During the building of this bridge at least twenty or thirty wagons had come up to cross. Some of the lighter ones went across on the Ferry boat, but most of them were loaded heavier. The greater number wanted to cross on the bridge. After all had crossed on the bridge that had participated in the building of it, they held a stockholders meeting so to speak and sold the bridge to the men who ran the Ferry Boat and the money was divided among the men according to the number of wagons each had. The loss of time was not altogether a total one for it gave the stock a little time to get rested up.
PORTNEUF CANYON
We had no more trouble from the high water or from the Indians. The Crow and the Cheyenne’s were a peace just at this time. The following summer, however, the Brule and the Sioux went out with their red paint on. We later learned that we had not left the place where we were living, sixteen miles east of Denver, any too soon, for the one remaining family by the name of Hungate, that had remained on Coal Creek, was entirely wiped out. But If we did not have the Indians we had road agents. The only real travelled road from Salt Lake and Virginia City ran through Marsh Valley into Portneuf Canyon, twelve miles long. High mountains were on- either side and deep canyons, which afforded shelter and concealment for robbers, making it a marvelous place for holdups. Marsh Valley was a beautiful place, with a clear running stream through it the valley was about a mile wide, and the mountains on either side were covered with a heavy growth of pines. There were no beavers In the canyon, but undoubtedly they had been numerous in former days as there were many dams in the stream all in a petrified state and intact no attempt was made to determine how long they had been built. One morning soon after sunrise we were gathering in the stock to start on the day’s journey, when we saw five men emerge from the pines on the North side, riding leisurely along, going to the pine forest on the other side of the valley. They were going close by our party, but no particular attention was paid to them. Prospectors and travelers of various kinds were out in numbers most of the time. We had not gone more than a mile until we met the daily stage. It was a most unusual thing for the stage driver to pull the reins to stop and talk, but this fellow did and wanted to know if we had heard of the robbery and killing of the night before. He told us that a stage driver and his passenger had been killed just about six miles from there, and he had been sent out to drive the stage on through. There were twenty thousand dollars in gold on the stage. Evidently the men we had seen two hours before were the perpetrators of the crime, for we had noticed they were heavily armed. We then crossed the Snake River, which was one of the wickedest streams in the West, and where several were drowned every year in attempting to cross it. After leaving this river the road ran up Camas Creek to Rock Door, where it leaves the Creek and crosses the main divide that separates the two oceans. The nearer we got to Alder Gulch the bigger were the reports of the fabulously rich mines that were turning out a thousand dollars a day to a man. But in spite of all these flattering reports, we met men with downcast looks, who said it was no place for poor men. One man said that the only thing he saw while he was there that was any good was a man with a grindstone. Men would stand in line with an axe or some other tool to be ground, for which they paid one dollar. Keaton said if they can afford to pay one dollar to have an axe ground there must be plenty to do.
MONTANA
We pulled into Virginia City, August 14th, 1864. Those who have never gone through the wild excitement of a big paying mining camp, can realize very little about it by its description. The mines in the Gulch paid for twelve miles around. Some, of course, paid bigger dividends than others. There were four towns strung along the Gulch ; Junction, Nevada, Central City, and the last and most important, Virginia City. There were about 40000 persons in the Gulch. All the towns flourished. A population of the underworld had flocked to those towns and all the places of debauchery kept their doors open, days, nights and Sundays. Hacks ran from one town to another carrying passengers. Money flowed like water. Any miner could get from $5.00 to $ 15.00 a day. Nearly all the miners drank and some gambled, and the women of the underworld reaped a harvest. No miner would work on Sunday unless it had to be done to save trouble in mines where there was liable to be a cave-in ; so on that day everybody was in town. No one would attempt to ride a horse or drive a team through the streets of Virginia City on Sunday after nine o'clock in the morning, for they were packed with people. As yet there was no sawmill in the country. Bannack was the nearest point seventy-five miles away, where any lumber was to be had and it was very poor. No one could afford to be too ambitious as to what kind of a house they lived in. The main point was to get the yellow rocks. If they were not digging in the ground they were digging everyone else that had them. After the flour and other provisions that we had brought with us were sold we used the wagon boxes for beds to live in while my father hauled logs from the summit of a very high mountain ten miles away. Nearly all the houses had dirt Lumber, as I before stated, aside from being hard to get was extremely high, fifty cents a foot. The miners had to have lumber for sluice boxes. The size of the boxes was 1x12x10 feet. There could be found timber large enough to make boards. There would be a place selected in the timber, where the logs when chopped down, would be near the saw pit. Two pens were built of small logs seven feet apart and six by one- half feet high. The log was rolled up on these pens by skids, small logs reaching from the top of the pens to the ground about twelve feet from the pen. A whip saw made on the fashion of a crosscut saw, but with teeth made set pointing down. One man stood above and one below. The upper one would lift the saw and the lower one pull it down. The lower one did the cutting. Keaton was a brick layer and a builder, so it was not long before he had a very comfortable good-looking little house built.
To CACHE VALLEY
Now that the house was built and the men and cattle not needed, Keaton decided to put them back on the road freighting again. It was considered precarious to attempt a trip over the mountains after September. Snow usually began to fall any time after that time was figured that it would take to make a trip to Cache Valley, a Mormon Settlement Here all kinds of vegetables and flour could be obtained and hauled back to Virginia City Keaton decided not to make this trip himself, but to send a young man by the name of John Smith, who later married my sister. This young Smith was a courageous, daring fellow and very dependable. Keaton, knowing Smith possessed all these good qualities, placed him in charge of the train. The Valley was reached ; the wagons were loaded mostly with flour and a few potatoes, carrots and onions. Upon their return trip they camped on Beaver Creek, a tributary of Camas Creek that ran between a wall of rock leaving a crevice just large enough for a wagon to pass through. This is also where the start is made to cross the Big Divide. It was fourteen miles over to where a mountain called Pine Butte was. This was across the range and if one was successful in reaching it he would feel safe in reaching Virginia City without any further difficulty. All day the clouds had been getting darker and heavier. After camp was made, a big tall, good-natured fellow from Missouri, by the name of Jim Horton, said, "John, If that snow starts in and lasts two days, we can't make it across the range." Before bedtime the fine snow began to fall with a good stiff breeze. Morning came, and it was a gloomy one for everybody in camp. When they saw the snow had fallen to the depth of fourteen Inches, and was still falling, they well knew that there was no possible chance to cross the divide. But something had to be done with the cattle. They would surely perish if they stayed there. The advisability of taking the cattle back to Snake River was discussed while they ate their breakfast that morning. It was decided that John Smith, Jim Horton, and Sil Florence would return with the cattle to Snake River. They decided to leave them there and return to Virginia City. It snowed nearly all day upon their return. The snow was five or six feet deep on the high divide. The road would have been Impassable had it not been for the stage coach that passed over the road every day. The three men reached Virginia City December 10th, 1864. Spring came after a long hard winter. Keaton learned that the stock had all perished with the exception of three head. This was due to lack of knowledge on the part of the men in selecting proper quarters for the stock. . They were wintered at the foot of a mountain where the snow fell so deep that they were unable to get sufficient grass. In the spring Keaton bought four head of horses with which to go to Pine Butte and sled the flour over the divide, then to be reloaded into a wagon.
FLOUR SHORTAGE
Conditions were getting quite desperate in Alder Gulch, due to the shortage of food stuff. With the exception of whiskey and tobacco everything was practically exhausted. A committee of miners were appointed to canvas the homes and divide supplies according to the number in the family. I recall that the sack of flour which we had was taken and only half of it returned. This was in the month of April, 1865. There was one school in the town with about fifteen pupils, taught by Professor Dimsdale, who later printed the first newspaper in the territory of Montana. I was taken out of school to accompany my father on his freighting expeditions to different points. The Salt Lake route was the only route to get the supplies to Virginia City. The freight from Fort Benton had all been hauled. The upper Missouri River was frozen almost to the bottom, so no boat could ply the river. It was plain to be seen that the first flour brought into camp was the flour that would bring the real money and plenty of it. There was not much snow on the ground until we reached Pine Butte. There was nothing there but a stage station with one man in charge. It was his place to keep the stock in good condition, have them harnessed and put in for a relay when the stage arrived from any direction. The first greeting we had from the station keeper was, "Did you hear the news," "No, what news," "Lincoln has been assassinated." Keaton brought with him a small sled, which he had built, on which five or six hundred pounds could be hauled. Up to this time nothing had been hauled across the divide. Two horses were hitched to the sled and the remaining two were led behind. We made the fourteen miles a little before night and camped at Rock Door, the camp where Sil Florence and Horton's man had been camped all winter. They had been snowed in here with the flour and supplies that Jack had come to haul on into Virginia City. At this time of the year the April sun would shine down in a red blaze on the snow and melt it and soften it through the day and freeze it at night In order to get over as much road as possible before the snow would begin to soften, it was necessary to get a start before daylight. We found after we got out on the road that we were not the only ones hauling freight on this road.. We were not fearful of other trains getting into camp ahead of us but we were anxious that no one meet or pass us on the road. This always proved very disastrous, because there was only one hard beaten path or road and meeting or passing another team would necessitate the horses' stepping out of that hard beaten path into a soft spot and down they would go deeper and deeper, into the snow . The horse would then have to be unhitched from his mate and the sled and the snow dug from around him until he was down to the ground. The constant pounding on the snow every day throughout the winter built the road up higher each day. The days it did not snow the wind blew the snow onto the road and in this way it was built over the ground. When two sleds met they usually compromised, yet it was an unwritten law that the loaded sled had the right of way. The other would unhitch and lead his horses one at a time past the loaded trains. They usually found enough room to pass in this way. As we were traveling along one day we saw ahead of us a great bank of snow. . We were at a loss to know what it was all about. Upon reaching the spot we found a man with two mules down about ten feet, standing on the ground. We inquired what he was doing down there and he informed us that be was not doing anything just then, but that he had been doing plenty up to that time, that he had been shoveling snow to get his mules to the ground. He had got off the track and no chance to get them back. He had to dig down to save the mules. He said he was going to make an incline track to the sled road, beat it down with a shovel with the hope that it would freeze hard enough that night to hold the mules up and get them out. I presume he had the luck that he was looking for, for we heard from others that passed that way next day, that they were not there. The road we found going into Virginia City from there on was very good and as there were no mountains to contend with, Jack reached the camp of Alder Gulch in three days.
WORTH MORE THAN GOLD
Somehow the news of flour coming into the camp had preceded them and before they reached the first town they were met by a crowd of miners. Keaton felt a little uncertain as to the outcome of this crowd coming out to meet them, for he knew they were out of flour and if the leader happened to be loaded with bad whiskey it would just be too bad. However, in less than three minutes he found they merely wanted to buy flour and meant to deal squarely with him, and he In turn dealt squarely with them. The sacks were all one hundred pounds. The leader said no one should have more than half a sack. Jack had no scales, so it was up to the leader to say when the sack was half emptied. Each man carried a sack to get his flour. The price was one hundred and twenty-five dollars a sack. Greenbacks were at such low par at this time that whenever there was any transaction involved, where money was concerned, gold dust was used as a medium of exchange. It was always weighed out by the party selling, hence every one that expected to transact business carried scales. In some instances the gold would be coarse, in nuggets, and it would be hard to get the exact change. Just at this time news came in that more flour was coming so the people at once refused to pay but one hundred dollars per sack. There was no alternative but to accept the decree, so the remaining flour was sold at that price. But why did they need to parley over the paltry sum of one hundred dollars? It has remained an undisputed fact that Alder Gulch was the richest and produced more gold than any other place in the world. Conservative estimates placed It at one hundred million dollars.
