Larimer County, Colorado - The whole text, 1911 (part 6 of 22)

Mr. Spotswood ran as express messenger between Atchison and Denver at the beginning of his career on the Overland, and faced countless hardships and perils. The express coaches carried no passengers, but were filled with packages. They were especial prey of highwaymen, and the messenger's life was one of constant peril. The trip consumed six days and nights, and Mr. Spotswood usually slept by buckling himself with straps in the rear boot of the coach to avoid being jolted out while he caught a few naps. He was acquainted with all the famous characters of frontier days in Kansas, and was a close friend of "Buffalo Bill" Comstock, the scout and buffalo hunter w\\o was the first to bear that descriptive name. In later years Comstock aided Mr. Spotswood in running down a desperado, who had committed an unprovoked murder at one of the stage stations and had hidden himself in the wilderness, defying all the efforts of the soldiers at Fort Halleck to capture him. At Mr. Spotswood's request, Comstock disguised himself as an Indian and took the trail. He had lived most of his life with the Sioux, and was probably the greatest scout and trailer the West ever knew. Comstock in a day or two had captured the murderer and delivered him to the commandant at Fort Halleck, where the desperado was hanged.

Charles Clay, the pioneer colored man of the Cache la Poudre valley, who started the first barber shop at Laporte, related the following account of his life and experience in the West to a reporter and it was printed in the Fort Collins Courier in 1909. In this story, Mr. Clay makes the claim that "as near as he could get at it" he was born in 1810, but in a former interview with him that was printed in 1900, it was figured out he was born in 1828. At any rate, he was a very old man when he died on August 31st, 1910, and it is possible that the latest story of his birth is correct. He well remembered events of which he was cognizant in the early days and the dates he gives correspond with those of other authorities. The story practically as he told it being as follows:

"I was born in Calloway County, Missouri, near what is now the town of Fulton, as near as I can get at it, October 10, 1810. My parents were slaves and I was born in slavery, being the property of John W. Robinson, a wealthy planter. I lived the usual life of the slaves and was freed with the rest of them by Mr. Lincoln's proclamation. I had gone to St. Louis at the outbreak of the war and there I got a place as cook with a party headed by Richard Overall, that started for California, overland in the late summer of 1861. We got as far as Fort Laramie, where I got a job cooking for the soldiers. I came to Fort Collins in 1864 with the soldiers, this being an army post at the time. From here I went to Laporte, where I started a barber shop, the first one in the Poudre valley. There I shaved many men who were prominent in those days along the Overland trail, among them Jack Slade, the mankiller, who was afterwards lynched up in Montana. Others I remember were Bill Updyke, the stage driver; Bob Saunders, wagon boss; Bob Spotswood, division agent for the Overland, and William S. Taylor, who ran the hotel at Laporte. I worked for him as cook for a while and had the honor of cooking General Grant's meal for him when he came through in a special coach after the close of the war.

"I never will forget that dinner. We had the best Laporte afforded - trout, caught out of the Poudre just above town, chicken, squash, baked beans and potatoes. I had cooked the potatoes in a steamer and I put the steamer on the window sill in the kitchen, while I was busy putting on other dishes. When I went after the potatoes they were gone and I found out the soldiers in General Grant's escort had taken them. The general had a good laugh when he found it out and he said he made out a good dinner without potatoes. He thought it was about the best meal he'd had on the whole trip.

"Those were exciting days. I remember once when we were at Fort Laramie, I had to go out with a troop of cavalry under command of Lieutenant Collins. He was a son of Col. Collins, for whom Fort Collins was named. The Indians had attacked a wagon party near Sweetwater and we went to their relief. They were barricaded in a corral made of their wagons, but had already lost several, two of their women having been stolen by the redskins. When we got to the camp, the Indians fled and we went after them. After chasing them into the hills. Lieutenant Collins' horse became frightened and dashed out of line into the line of the enemy. The last we saw of him he was surrounded by Indians and he disappeared with them.

"We did not find him until next morning, when his body, cut open by the redskins, was lying on the ground. We found a note at his side signed by two white women, who said they had been captured and that they would try and break away the next night. They wanted us to stay on the trail of the Indians, so they could join us if possible. We followed them and sure enough, the next day one of the women was found by us. She had made her escape, but the other one was carried away and we never heard from her or the Indians again, as they had given us the slip. I'm pretty black, but I tell you my skin turned white more than once in those days. I could give you some more yarns like that from my life that would make your hair stand up, if I had a little time to think."

"I arrived in the Big Thompson valley in October, 1860, and found that about twenty people had preceded me. Among those living in the valley at that time, as I recall them to mind, were Thomas H. Johnson, John Hahn, W. A. Bean, Samuel Heffner, Adam Dick, W. C. Stover, Doc. Allen, Ed. Clark, Mariana Modena, his Indian wife whom he called 'John,' and three children, Lena, Antoine, and Martin Modena, Louis Papa, Jack McGaa and squaw, Tim Goodin and squaw, and three Mexicans and their squaws.

"The principal industry at that time, through which we made our living, was hauling hay to Central City and vicinity, a distance of about 75 miles. Our meat, during the summer, was obtained principally from antelope ; in the winter from deer, sometimes elk, and mountain sheep.

"There was no particular change in the situation of affairs during 1861, except that people came in, stopped a short time on a piece of land and then moved away, finding nothing in the country that was to them attractive. A few stray Indians passed, by in the spring on their way to northern hunting grounds, returning again in the fall. They were of no particular trouble to the settlers, except that they were always hungry. Among the most familiar Indians were those belonging to Chief Lefthand's and Chief Friday's bands of Arapahoes. Chief Friday and his band numbering between 200 and 300, was located for a time in the Cache la Poudre valley, but they would often stray over to the Big Thompson.

"In the spring of that year I went to Golden and purchased garden seeds from Bill Loveland's store. These I planted on W. B. Osborn's ranch (now owned by M. Y. Osborn), about one and a half miles east of the present city of Loveland. I was fortunate in raising cabbage, lettuce, radishes, onions and melons, which found a ready sale at good prices. It was an experiment, consequently I did not branch out very heavy. Being at Mariana's store one day in September, I invited him to come to my place and eat melons and to bring the rest of the squaw men with him. They came, six of them. I prepared a dinner for them and they ate to their fill. To the best of my knowledge, the vegetables I raised that year were the first grown in the Big Thompson valley. There were then about twenty persons living here, of whom only Thomas H. Johnson, W. B. Osborn, John Hahn, Louis Papa and myself remain. The rest have all moved away or passed on 'to that bourne whence no traveler returns.'

"One day in the latter part of June, 1863, I was lying asleep in my cabin, a mile and a half southeast of the present city of Loveland. Being suddenly aroused from my slumbers by an unusual noise, I looked up and discovered that my cabin was full of Indians. They were painted and feathered up in regular war style. After I had dressed myself, the spokesman of the party said 'swap,' pointing at the hat I had on and at a looking glass hanging on the wall. He then pointed up the Big Thompson river as an invitation to go with them. My first thought was they wanted to 'swap' a pony for my hat and looking glass, so I took the glass and went with them to their camp, about half a mile distant. When we reached the camp I found about a half a dozen tepees which I supposed were for the use of the chiefs or headmen. One of my guides opened the entrance to one of the tepees and soon came out with a young squaw whom he pushed against me, saying 'swap,' pointing to my hat and my glass. I sized them up the best I could under the circumstances and replied 'no swap.' The squaw, judging by her dress, was about 13 years of age. There were some 200 or 300 Indians in the band, altogether, and when I refused to 'swap,' they set up such a yell as I shall probably never hear again. I then left them and went back to my cabin, feeling not a little uneasy concerning the outcome. They didn't trouble me, however. The band staid in camp two nights. On the second night I saw a bright light in the Indian camp and heard. a thump, thump, so I went as close to them as I thought prudent. The savages were having a war dance. The bucks were going round and round in a circle, raising their feet and keeping time to the thumps, yelling the war whoop and carrying poles on which were strung three scalps with long black hair. Those that did not dance, chanted their war song in unison with the thumps. They kept this up until midnight or later. The following morning they broke camp and marched away in a northeasterly direction. Though they had done me no harm, I was not a bit displeased to see them leave my neighborhood.

"That year Company B of the First Colorado volunteer cavalry and some Michigan troops were camped at Laporte. There had been some trouble with the redskins on the Platte, so a party of about a dozen soldiers was sent down there to straighten things out. On their way back the soldiers forded the Platte near the present town of Evans and climbed the bluff. From here they saw a large camp of Indians on the opposite side of the river, apparently in some commotion. The soldiers recrossed the river and hastened to the camp, finding Chief Lefthand's band of Arapahoes, the same band that was at my place only a few days before. The savages were preparing to burn at the stake the young squaw they had tried to 'swap' to me for the hat and looking glass, and already had her tied to a tree with fagots piled up around her. The soldiers rescued the girl and took her to their camp at Laporte, and in the course of a few days sent her to Denver. From there. Governor Evans sent her, under guard, to Sulphur Springs, where she was turned over to her people. The young squaw's name was Susan and she was a sister of Chief Ouray of the Utes. In a raid upon the Ute camp the Arapahoes killed three Ute warriors and captured Susan. In after years Susan married Chief Johnson and it was through her interposition that Mrs. N. C. Meeker and her daughter, Josephine, were saved from a cruel death at the hands of the Utes at the time of the White river massacre in September, 1879. Mrs. Meeker and her daughter were from Greeley and Susan remembered that white soldiers had saved her from a cruel fate when she was about to be burned at the stake on the very spot where Greeley now stands. It was gratitude

Mr. Hollowell's story of the rescue of Susan from the Arapahoes is corroborated in all essential particulars by Major Simon Whitely of Racine, Wisconsin, who, at the time of Susan's rescue, was Indian agent to the Utes. In an interview with a reporter, which was printed in the Chicago Tribune, November 5, 1879, shortly after the White river massacre. Major Whitely told the following story:

"In the three years of m.y agency I never discovered any evidence of dissatisfaction or anything but a kindly feeling for the whites on the part of the Utes, which I attribute very largely to the fact that I restored to them the squaw Susan, the sister of Chief Ouray, who saved the lives of the Meeker women after the massacre of their husband and father, N. C. Meeker, at the White river agency on September 28, 1879. While on my way to Sulphur Springs in 1863, I was overtaken by a messenger from Governor Evans, who informed me of the rescue of a Ute squaw from the Arapahoes and Cheyennes by the soldiers of Company B of the First Colorado, stationed at Laporte. These Indians had captured the squaw in one of their raids and, while encamped near the mouth of the Cache la Poudre river, had determined to burn her at the stake. The commanding officer at Laporte, hearing of this, took a detachment of troops and, by alternate threats and promises, obtained her release after she had already been tied to the stake and the fire lighted. Susan was sent to Denver in charge of a guard of soldiers and forwarded from there to me at Sulphur Springs in Middle park. I then sent her, accompanied by U. M. Curtice, my interpreter, to her people and delivered her to them after a journey across the western portion of Colorado into the borders of Utah, to the camp of the Indians on Snake river, where she was received with every demonstration of joy by the tribe."

Major Whitely concluded his story by saying that Susan was Chief Ouray's sister, who displayed so much kindness and affection for the Meeker women, mother and daughter, and through whose interposition, doubtless, their lives were saved.

Major Whitely's story was reproduced in the Fort Collins Courier from the Chicago Tribune, on November 12, 1879. Knowing that Capt. C. C. Hawley of Fort Collins, was an officer in the First Colorado in 1863, the editor of the Courier called his attention to the story told by Major Whitely and he corroborated it in some particulars. He said : was stationed at the time, and turned over to Major Whitely, who returned her to her people." Capt. Hawley also said that Susan had been with the Arapahoes so long that she had acquired their language and habits and was in no danger of being burned at the stake, as stated by Major Whitely in his interview. The attention of Thomas R. Mc- Bride, one of the early settlers of Laporte was also called to the story and he stated that Major Whitely's version of the incident was correct. He said that Susan was brought to Laporte and kept in the family of Bill Carroll until Governor Evans decided what to do with her.

In 1848, after a part of the Cherokee nation of Indians had ceded to the L^nited States their lands in Georgia, a party was organized and sent to the Pacific coast to look up a new country in which to locate their people. They came west by the Arkansas valley route to the mouth of Squirrel creek, a tributary of the Arkansas river. They ascended this creek to the divide, thence crossing to the head of Cherry creek, following this stream to its junction with the South Platte. Though looking for gold was not the main purpose of the expedition, nevertheless they found that it existed in the streams of this region. They did not stop to do much prospecting, however, but pushed on northward along the eastern base of the mountains until they reached where Laporte is now. Here they plunged into the mountains, following a route that led them past what is now known as Virginia Dale and over the divide to the Laramie Plains, thence on west to California. On their return from the Pacific coast, in 1849, they came down from the Laramie Plains by the way of what is now St. Cloud and Cherokee park, where they evidently camped one night. From there they came over Cherokee hill, through what is now known as Alford, down Calloway hill, crossing the North Fork at the Cradock ranch, near which they struck their outgoing trail which they followed to Laporte, and thence on south to the Arkansas. There is a tradition to the efEect that they were surprised at Cherokee Park by a war party of Utes that had come through Sand creek pass, over Boulder Ridge and down Sheep creek. The Cherokees are said to have fled to the top of Cherokee hill where it is said a battle was fought in which the Cherokees were victorious. The Utes were driven from the field after a loss of many warriors. A number of the Cherokees were killed in the fight, and these were buried on the battle field on the summit of the hill, where, to this day, mounds resembling graves, may be seen. Some of these mounds have been opened it is said, and human bones found in them, which lends an air of probability to the tradition. When the remnant of the exploring party returned to Georgia, they attempted to organize an expedition for the Rocky Mountains on a gold hunting quest. News of the finding of gold in Cherry creek spread in Georgia, finally coming to the ears of W. Green Russell, miner of Dahlonega, who also projected an expedition to this region. In the meantime, a Cherokee cattle trader, named Parks, in driving his herds along what came to be known as the Cherokee trail, and having his eyes sharpened by the stories told by the Indians on their return from California, discovered gold in 1852, on Ralston creek, a small affluent of Clear creek. These discoveries excited a great deal of interest and early in the Spring of 1858 the Cherokees organized for a prospecting expedition to the vicinity of Pikes Peak. W. Green Russell joined them with a party of white men. This expedition consisted of twelve white persons and thirty Indians, among whom were George Hicks, Sen., (who was a lawyer by profession and a notable man among the Cherokees) who was leader of the party. George Hicks Jr., John Beck, Ezekiel Beck, Pelicon Tigre and others. The white persons, George McDougal, brother of Governor McDougal of California, who had a trading post on Adobe creek, a Mr. Kirk, wife and two children, Levi Braumbaugh, Philander Simmons, a mountaineer of several years experience, and Messrs Brown, Kelly, Johns, Taylor and Tubbs. The company left the Missouri frontier May 12th, and arrived at Bent's new fort in good season ; but the winter had been severe and the spring late, which made traveling slow and difficult nor were there labors rewarded that season, though they prospected from the head of the Arkansas to the Platte and one hundred miles to the north, which brought them into Larimer county. From this date the real history of the white man's occupation of Colorado begun. The news of gold finds in the Pikes Peak region spread like wildfire, and during 1858, thousands rushed to the Rocky mountains. The Cherokee trail is frequently mentioned in subquent descriptions by explorers and travelers through this region.

The following story concerning himself and his experiences in Larimer county in 1862-3, in which is also explained the origin and purpose of the Indian mounds on the summit of Cherokee hill, was told by Thomas Quillan, an aged pioneer and at present an inmate of the County hospital, to Judge Jefferson McAnelly who had it printed in the Fort Collins Democrat on June 5th, 1907. The story fully explains the mystery of the Cherokee hill mounds which have attracted the attention and excited the curosity of passers-by for many years. The common acceptation of the origin of these mounds has been that they contained the remains of Cherokee Indian warriors who were killed in a battle with the Utes in 1848. The only foundation for this supposition is the fact that a band of Utes did raid a camp of Cherokees near the place that year, and run off a lot of horses belonging to the strangers.

A few years after the Cherokees sold their lands in Georgia and Tennessee to the United States, the tribe dispatched a party of braves to the Pacific coast in search of a new location for the tribe. This party came up the Arkansas river, crossed over the divide to the head of Cherry creek, down which they traveled to the site of the present City of Denver. From there they came north, following the trend of the mountains to the present town of Laparte where they entered the hills and pursued a northerly course until they came out on to the Laramie Plains. They camped one night on the North fork of the Cache la Poudre in the vicinity of what is now St. Cloud or William Campton's noted summer resort. Here their camp was raided by a wandering band of Utes, who stole and drove off some of the traveler's horses. The tradition however, that a battle ensued here in which the Cherokees were vanquished with the loss of several of their warriors, lacks the element of truth, for the Cherokees continued their journey to the coast, but not being pleased with the country, returned to their tribe in the Indian Territory without the loss of a single one of their members, so far as history tells of the expedition. The trail they followed from the mouth of Cherry creek northward, and baqk, is still known as the Cherokee trail. Mr. Quillan's story, with Judge McAnelly's introduction, follows:

"The mounds on Cherokee hill were discovered by a miner and a hunter in the winter of 1862-3. This miner was born on April 13th, 1829, in North Carolina, going thence with his parents to Indiana.

From Indiana the family moved, in 1854, to Marion county, Iowa, and thence to Randolph county, Illinois in 1858. This man's name is Thomas Quillan, familiarly known as "Uncle" Tom Quillan. He, like many others, was seized with the gold fever in 1859 and started from Chester, Illinois, for Pikes Peak April 5 th, in company with the two Killian brothers. Their outfit consisted of one wagon and three yoke of oxen. They were sixty-seven days on the road, arriving at Denver June 7th, 1859. Here they found but one log cabin, but numerous tents, and a floating, restless population of about 5,000. They remained here two days and, instead of going to Pikes Peak, they went to Gregory Gulch to hunt for gold. Here they worked in the mines and soon fell in with Green Russell, the discoverer of gold in Gregory gulch, and he taught them how to mine for the precious metals. Russell was a relative of Quillan. Tiring of mining, Quillan, in company with Thomas Bavington, Joseph Bog, George Perkins and George Hall, started out in January 1862 on a hunting, trapping and prospecting expedition to the northward of Gregory gulch. They struck the old Cherokee trail and followed it to Laporte, stopping there several days, buying supplies and inquiring about the country. The only white man they became acquainted with there was John Provost an old-time trapper and voyager, and French Canadian.

They journeyed from Laporte to Virginia Dale, remaining there a couple of weeks hunting on Dale creek and its tributaries. They then broke camp and moved on to what was then called Front creek where they hunted and trapped about a week and then moved to the North fork of the Cache la Poudre river in February. They pitched their tents in Cherokee park, adjacent to Cherokee hill, and hunted and trapped until spring. It was during that time that they discovered the mounds on Cherokee hill, which, to them, had the appearance of new made graves. Quillan's curiosity to learn what the mounds contained overcame his discretion and he bantered Perkins to help him open the graves for the purpose of seeing what was in them, but Perkins was superstitious and made a dozen excuses, finally declaring that he would not assist in opening the graves under any conditions. Not to be bluffed by superstitious notions, Quillan started out one day to make an investigation and after removing the stones and what little there was remaining, he came to solid ground. There were no graves there. In fact, the grass underneath the piles of stones was not yet dead, indicating the recent origin of the mounds. On their way back to Gregory gulch, the party stopped at Provost's place in Laporte. While there, Quillan asked Provost if he knew why the mounds were built on Cherokee hill and he said he did. Provost then told him that during the previous fall a large band of Cheyenne and Arapahoe Indians had camped in that vicinity while on a hunting trip. The squaws and children remained in camp while the bucks were out hunting, and as is customary with them, built the mounds as a signal to show the absent bucks what they had done in case anything happened to them. Provost's story solved the mystery of the mounds. Instead of being the graves of Cherokee warriors slain in battle with the Utes in 1848, they were simply the work of squaws and pappooses of that band of Indians that was camped near Cherokee hill in the fall of 1861.

Uncle Tom Quillan gave up mining in 1872 and came to Larimer county, locating a homestead claim in Rattlesnake Park in the gulch known as Quillan gulch. In 1885 he purchased a ranch on Meadow creek, right at the foot of Cherokee hill, and lived there a good many years, finally disposing of the property and moving to Fort Collins which is still his home.

The late William C. Stover of Fort Collins, former member of the Territorial legislature, who in 1876, as a member of the Constitutional convention helped to draft the present Constitution of Colorado, a successful merchant and president of the Poudre Valley bank for nearly a score of years, an institution that he and Charles H. Sheldon established in 1878, and which has since become the Poudre Valley National Bank, one of the soundest and best known financial institutions in the vrest, had his trials and tribulations in the pioneer days, when men's souls were at times severely tried and when more than one of them succumbed to the storms of adversity and gave up the fight. But he was made of sterner stuff. Though often hungry and poorly clad, he persevered and at last reached the top of the ladder which led up to success in life in all that term implies. He came to Colorado in 1860, a mere boy scarcely nineteen years of age. When he left home in the spring of that year, his father fitted him out with a span of good horses, wagon, clothing, blankets and supply of provisions. He came direct to the Big Thompson valley and traded his horses and wagon for a squatter's claim, situated about a mile south of the present City of

Loveland. In the spring of 1861, he planted a portion of his claim to potatoes, paying an enormous price for the seed, for potatoes were potatoes in those days. This exhausted his fund of ready money. His provisions also gave out and he was reduced to the extremity of having to dig up his seed potatoes before they had begun to grow for food. Of course he had no crop, but he managed in some way to exist until the following winter when his resources gave out entirely. He was almost destitute of clothing, his raiment consisting mainly of a pair of blue denim overalls that had been patched until there was hardly a scrap left of the original garment, and his feet were clad in moccasins made of old gunny sacks. In this condition he appeared one day at the cabin of J. N. Hollowell, a former schoolmate in Indiana, and told him that he had no boots and no money to buy them with, asking his friend if he could not help him to get a pair. Mr. Hollowell told him that he had no money, but that his uncle, W. B. Osborn, at Boulder had some money and he could get enough of him to buy a pair of boots. Mr. Hollowell went to Boulder, borrowed the money, bought a pair of stogy boots, paying $8 for them, and brought them back to Stover. When he returned, Mr. Stover said he had no trousers. Mr. Hollowell looked up some grain sacks that Mr. Osborn had brought from the East, filled with dried fruit, and from these Mr. Stover made himself a pair of trousers, using his old overalls for a pattern. He wore those trousers and boots all winter. During the season of 1862 he managed, by working around at odd jobs, to make a living and that fall he put up a lot of hay which brought him a good snug sum of money, out of which he paid Mr. Hollowell the money borrowed for the boots. The writer has heard both Mr. Stover and Mr. Hollowell tell this story, so that it is practically correct. In 1863 Mr. Stover sold his claim to the late John J. Ryan, and in 1864 went to Virginia City, Montana, which was then the center of a big gold excitement, returning in the fall of the year to his old home at South Bend, Indiana. In the spring of 1 865 he borrowed money enough of his father which, with what he had of his own, enabled him to buy a freighting outfit of several wagons. These he loaded with provisions and merchandise and started back for Montana, arriving at Virginia City, at a time when flour was selling at $100 a sack, with bacon and other eatables correspondingly high. He closed out his load in short order, clearing $5,000 in the transaction, and started right back for St. Joseph, Missouri, for another load. He made several trips across the plains to Montana between 1865 and 1867, clearing a nice sum of money. After paying back all the mouey he had borrowed and selling his outfit, he returned to the Big Thompson in 1868 and bought an interest in the late A. K. Yount's store, continuing in trade there until 1870 when he moved to Fort Collins and in company with the late John C. Matthews bought the Mason & Allen stock of goods, which was then kept in the Old Grout building. In 1873 the firm erected a two story brick building at the corner of Jefierson and Linden streets, recently torn down to make room for the Union Pacific railroad, into which they moved their stock. Soon after this Mr. Stover purchased Mr. Matthews' interest in the business and carried it on alone until 1880 when the late Albert B. Tomlin became associated with him. Until 1873, when the late Jacob Welch came to Fort Collins and started a store, this was the only general store in Fort Collins and it did an immense business annually.

David Hershman came from Illinois to the Big Thompson valley in 1865, a young man, poor in purse, but full of hard work and rich in ambition and courage. He brought a harvester and mowing machine with him, and in August of that year, obtained employment cutting hay and harvesting the few patches of from two to five acres of wheat grown by the settlers. That fall he bought of H. B. Chubbuck the improvements on a claim lying south of the present city of Loveland, on which he filed a preemption. Here he lived for nearly fortyfive years, adding to his land holdings until he had 600 acres, all within two miles of Loveland. During recent years he disposed of his land holdings with the exception of 150 acres which he still owns. Like all of the pioneers of the county, he endured many hardships and privations in the early days, but he had an unfaltering faitii in the future of the county and labored on, combating discouragements and adversity until success crowned his efforts. He is now in the enjoyment of a handsome competence and is spending his declining years in comfort and contentment.

Mr. Hershman retains vivid recollections of interesting incidents and events of the days that tried men's souls, and has kindly favored me by relating some of them for this work. He says : treasurer held his ofEce in the court house at Laporte, and Uncle Ben Whedbee was treasurer. The court house was built of round logs - cottonwood, if my memory serves me right. The next county treasurer was Dr. T. M. Smith, who held the office until the county seat was changed from Laporte to Fort Collins. There were only two stores in the county then. One of them was kept by Mason & Allen at Fort Collins, and the other by Mr. and Mrs. A. K. Yount in my old log house on the Big Thompson. These stores did a thriving business selling supplies to settlers and emigrants. The Younts came to the Big Thompson valley in 1866 or 1867.

John E. Washburn was appointed county judge by Governor Evans when the county was organized in 1864, and held his office for two years. I distinctly recall the first case tried before him. His office was held in his log house, which is still standing on the bank of the Big Thompson river, a short distance south of Loveland. The case referred to originated in this way: There had been a horse race and a good deal of betting on which horse should come out ahead. One man bet a span of horses against a sum of money and lost his team. When the stakes were to change hands, the owner of the horses refused to give them up. The winner of the team began proceedings in Judge Washburn's court to get possession. The judge summoned the usual number of jurors and the case went to trial. The names of some of the jurors were : J. Parrish, Joseph Denning, A. Wiseman, myself being among the number. I cannot recall the names of the other two. The jury heard all the evidence introduced by both sides, the pleas of counsel, who were Judge W. B. Osborn for the plaintiff and A. K. Yount for the defendant, and the instructions of the court. The way the counsel wrangled over the technicalities of the law, was a caution. One of them affirmed that custom made law and the other that the statutes ruled, claiming that under the law title to property could not be acquired through gambling and that betting on a horse race was gambling, pure and simple. When they were through with their pleas, the judge ordered the acting sheriff, Sherman Smith, to take charge of the jury and keep them in close confinment until ' they had agreed upon a verdict. We were locked in the front room of the judge's house late in the evening. The judge and his family went to bed upstairs. We deliberated for several hours but could not agree. At last, as it drew near midnight and we were becoming anxious to get out

We called the judge down stairs and presented him with our verdict. After reading it the judge said: Gentlemen of the jury, I cannot accept your verdict. Then addressing the sheriff, he said, "You will conduct the jury to their room and keep them there on bread and water until they agree." He then returned to his bed and we were again locked up in the front room. The hours passed slowly, but we had a friend outside who supplied us with whittling material from a dry goods box brought over from the store. It is remembered that the court had kindling wood enough to last him some time as a result of our whittling. Our friend on the outside furnished us with cigars also, and they served a good purpose. They kept us awake and made the judge feel willing to let us go. The smoke was dense and the upper floor of the house was quite open, so that he and his wife were practically smoked out. He came rushing down stairs, saying his room was full of smoke and he could not sleep. We then told the judge we could not agree upon anything different from the verdict we had already rendered and he might as well let us go home. The judge conferred with the contesting parties and they agreed to accept our verdict, so we were discharged and went home rejoicing early in the morning.

In 1867, I think it was, Mr. and Mrs. Yount wanted to go to Denver after more goods, and they asked me to tend the store while they were gone. I consented, but told them there was one article in the store that I did not want to sell, and that was whiskey. They said, all right, you need not sell it. While they were gone some customers came to the store about 9 o'clock at night and demanded some liquor. They said there was to be a wedding down the creek and that such events could not be properly celebrated without a quantity of the ardent. I think the man who was to be groom was Old Musgrove. We all knew he ought to marry or leave the country. The boys wanted four gallons of whiskey, but I remonstrated, saying I had no right to sell it. But Jim Eaglin told me there was no use remonstrating; that they wanted the liquor and must have it ; that he could draw it from the barrel and I could report to Yount that he had helped himself. He said the whiskey was absolutely necessary, for there couldn't be a wedding without it, and that Yount could charge it up to the boys.

When Mr. and Mrs. Yount came home about four days later, I told them the circumstances of the whiskey deal. They both laughed heartily and said it was all right. A few years later Mr. Yount was killed by the cars at Boulder. He undertook to board the train while it was in motion and fell under the cars and was run over and instantly killed. Mr. and Mrs. Yount sold their store on the Big Thompson and moved to Fort Collins in 1873, where they started the first bank established in Larimer county. Mr. Yount was killed in 1876. Before that he had represented the county in the Territorial Legislature and was well thought of by all the pioneers.

When my brother John and I came to the Thompson valley in the latter part of August, 1865, we found a few patches of wheat ranging from two to five acres in a field. Some of the settlers had a few potatoes, but the grasshoppers were thick and had destroyed nearly all the crops. Things looked pretty blue to us and for a while we thought we would have to go back to Illinois, but courage was our motto and we soon got some work to do cutting hay and grain. We had been advised to come to the Thompson by Judge W. B. Osborn, whom we met on the road near the present city of Longmont.

Hay that year brought $100 per ton at Black Hawk and Central City, and almost everything else commanded a proportionate price. That fall I bought a ton of potatoes, paying 7c a pound for them. I hauled them to Central City and sold them for 12 cents a pound. Greorge L. Luce, who lived then on what is known as the John Ryan farm, had some eggs he wanted me to take to market. I sold the eggs for $2 per dozen and I have paid 25 cents each for eggs when they were served to me at hotels. Notwithstanding numerous drawbacks and discouragements, I have lived and prospered. I have raised a family of ten children, all boys except nine."

Several years ago the late Abner Loomis, pioneer freighter, stockman and banker, told the following story to a reporter for the Denver Times. Mr. Loomis was standing in front of the Albany hotel, Denver, exchanging reminiscences with other oldtimers, when a young Indian passed by. "That Indian reminds me of one I once knew," said he. "Did I ever tell you the story of Zeb?" On being answered in the negative he proceeded. I will preface the story by locating Huleatt gulch. The gulch comes down from the northwest and opens out on the north side of the Cache la Poudre river about twenty miles west of Fort Collins. The Indians had a trail down this gulch, which they followed in coming from North Park to raid the settlements on the Plains or to attack their hereditary enemies, the Arapahoes and Cheyennes. They came from the Park through Ute pass, from which circumstance the pass derives its name, and practically followed the line of the present State road leading from Capt. Davy's ranch on the Laramie river, to North Park. They forded the Laramie river near Capt. Davy's ranch, thence taking a course that led them to the head of the Huleatt gulch. After fording the river at the mouth of the gulch they followed up Hill's gulch to the head of Rist canon, down which they proceeded to a point near the present town of Bellvue and then traveled south through the glade west of the hogbacks until they came to the Big Thompson valley. Their trail from North Park to the Big Thompson was well marked and was distinguishable for many years afterwards.

"During the early 60's the Indians infested the valley of Big Thompson as well as other parts of the state. They were forever prowling around, plundering the cabins of the settlers, running off stock and making themselves nuisances on general principles.

"Early in the year 1860, I think it was, one of the settlers, a Frenchman by the name of De Vost, captured from a band of wandering Utes a little Indian boy about 12 years old. De Vost gave the boy the name of Zeb to take the place of his unpronounceable patronym.

"Zeb was a bright youngster, and seemed to be blessed with virtues usually undeveloped in the redskin character. It must not be forgotten, however, that Zeb had his vices, for he was a natural born thief if ever there was one. He regarded De Vost's property as exempted from his pilfering, and he guarded the home and effects of his captor with the most jealous care.

"Zeb seemed contented with his new life, and at the age of 17 was a large, strong, good looking fellow. About this time a band of roving Utes happened to pass near Huleatt gulch. The recollections of roaming over the plains during his boyish days thronged Zeb's mind, and the desire for the free and unfettered life of the savage proved strong enough to lure him from the home of his captor, and he rejoined his tribe. Perhaps, during all these years, memory had not been sleeping, but had recalled to Zeb the events of former days, and when opportunity offered, he was powerless to resist the desire to rejoin the companions of his childhood. De Vost, who had become attached to the boy, mourned his departure, but was forced to the conclusion that after all Zeb was a redskin of the most ungrateful type. This was the opinion we all held, and as the majority of us never had a very exalted opinion of Zeb, we were not very much astonished at the young savage's taking French leave.

"Several months passed after Zeb's departure, and the Indians continued to make life a burden to the settlers on the Big Thompson. It became evident that something must be done to put a stop to the depredations of the redmen. The stealing of stock was a daily or nightly occurrence, and it wasn't safe to leave the horses in the corrals without a strong guard stationed there.

"A band of prowlers appeared in Huleatt gulch and made camp there. The settlers were not long in coming to the conclusion that the pilgrims had come to this Mecca for a purpose, and their purpose was to run off our horses. We made up our minds to resist any encroachments upon our property, and we kept a sharp lookout. In spite of our careful watching, one day the rascals succeeded in getting away with eighteen head of horses, and before we could intercept their progress, they were well on their way to North Park. Six of us armed ourselves, and soon we were in hot pursuit. We overtook them near the head of Huleatt gulch. The Indians- prepared for a skirmish. One young brave stood on a rock at the entrance to the gulch and sent his arrows flying over in our direction. Ben Claymore emptied a six-shooter and that Indian's career was ended. The Indians now appeared in numbers unpleasantly large, and we saw that they were prepared for immediate and decisive battle. They outnumbered us, and no doubt our earthly existence would have terminated at that time had not a timely circumstance intervened.

"Just as the arrows from forty-seven redmen were about to be sent into our midst, there sprang from amongst the warriors a young fellow who talked to them rapidly and excitedly, and then ran, by leaps, in our direction. It was Zeb, who recognized De Vost among our party, and stayed the arrows of his fellows. The Indians sullenly withdrew from the field.

"Zeb was delighted to see De Vost, and requested the Indians to return De Vest's horses, which was done. The rest of us were not so well treated, as

"De Vost tried to persuade Zeb to remain with him, but Zeb preferred to follow his copper-colored brethren. At parting with De Vost, Zeb showed signs of sincere grief, but instinct is stronger than education, and Zeb followed the promptings of Nature in his choice of a life.

"Zeb promised De Vost that his band should trouble the settlers 'not any more,' and he was true to his promise, for the depredations in the Big Thompson valley ended.

"Zeb died in 1871, and his last request was that his blanket and pipe should be given to De Vost. The Indians fulfilled his dying wish, and De Vost had the articles in his possession until his death, which occurred a few years ago.

Along in the summer of 1873, a man known only by the name of "Happy Jack" made his appearance in the Cache la Poudre valley. He came here from the Hay & Thomas sheep ranch, situated near the Wyoming line, where he claimed to have been at work in the hay field. He sought and obtained permission to ride to Laporte with William P. Bosworth who was returning to his home in Pleasant valley after selling a load of vegetables in Cheyenne. He said he wanted work and Mr. Bosworth told him that he might be able to get a job at the Obenchain saw mill, which stood on the bank of the river near where William Falloon and family now live, in Pleasant valley. "Happy Jack" did get a job at the mill, but did not stay long as he was found to be not of much account as a mill hand. From there he drifted to Boulder where he hired out to Clint Farrar to haul railroad ties from the mountains with an ox team. During his stay at the Obenchain mill, several horses belonging to ranchmen mysteriously disappeared and it was suspected that he belonged to a gang engaged in stealing and running off horses. This suspicion became so strong shortly after "Happy Jack" went to Boulder, that a warrant for his arrest was sworn out and placed in Sheriff Joseph Mason's hand to serve. Mr. Mason went to Boulder and being told by Mr. Farrar where to find the man he was looking for, the sheriff soon had him in custody. "Happy Jack" was brought back to

Fort Collins and given a preliminary hearing but the evidence brought out vi^as not thought sufficient to justify the court in binding him over for trial in the district court, and he was discharged. This, how, ever, did not allay the suspicion that he was implicated in the horse theft. This feeling became so strong that "Happy Jack" made up his mind that the best thing he could do would be to leave the country which he attempted to do. He started for the mountains and on reaching the Lone Pine stopped at the Day cabin which stood on what is now known as the Harry Gilpin-Brown ranch, and asked for something to eat. Mrs. Day, who was alone, got dinner for him and after he had finished eating he inquired the way to Rabbit creek. Before leaving the cabin he brutally attacked and criminally assaulted Mrs. Day, leaving her in a semi-conscious state in which condition her husband found her a few minutes later. On recovering consciousness she told her husband, in broken sentences, what had occurred and also described the man. She also told him that her assailant had inquired the way to Rabbit creek. News of the assault upon Mrs. Day was sent post haste to Fort Collins and SherifiE Mason and Deputy Sheriff O. P. Yelton, lost no time in instituting a search for the guilty man. They knew from the description given of him by Mrs. Day that it was "Happy Jack" and supposed he was hiding in the hills somewhere on Rabbit creek, from the fact that he had inquired the way to that locality. "Happy Jack", however, kept on up the road going westward. Just about sundown he stopped at the McNey ranch, where Clerin T. Woods was then living, and asked for a bowl of milk which he drank and went on his way. Later in the evening word came to Mr. Woods that Mrs. Day had been mistreated and that Sheriff Mason was going to look for her assailant on Rabbit creek. The description of the man given Mr. Woods fitted the person to whom he had given the bowl of milk and he knew that Sheriff Mason was on the wrong track, so he saddled up a horse and rode over to Rabbit creek to head the sheriff off and set him on the right road. Shortly after he reached Rabbit creek the sheriff and his deputy drove up and were told by Mr. Woods that the man they were looking for had gone west past his home. The sheriff and his deputy turned back to the main Livermore road and drove west, having lost much time in the trip up Rabbit creek. They kept up the pursuit to Fred Smith's mill on the North Lone Pine where they found "Happy Jack" fast asleep. The next morning they started for Fort Collins with "Happy

Jack" in custody. When they arrived at the Day cabin, Mrs. Day was asked if their prisoner was the man who assaulted her and she promptly replied that it was. Sheriff Mason then roped "Happy Jack" to a corral post and giving Mrs. Day his Remington rifle, told her to shoot him, but her nerve failed her and she refused to take his life. "Happy Jack" was brought to Fort Collins and confined in a room on the second floor of the Grout building which then answered for church, court house and jail. That night he was taken out by about a dozen determined men and strung up twice by a rope thrown over a cottonwood limb on the river bottom, in an effort to scare him into a confession of horse stealing and to tell who his confederates were. This he persistently refused to do, saying they might hang him and be damned, but he would never give anything away. Failing to wring a confession out of him, they brought him back to the quarters in the old Grout building. The next evening while being given his supper "Happy Jack" complained that one of the manacles was too tight about his leg and that it hurt him, and he asked his guard to loosen it a little which was done. The prisoner wore high top boots and the manacles were fastened outside the boot-leg, just above the ankle. Later in the evening, while the guard was at supper in one of the lower rooms, "Happy Jack" succeeded in working one foot out of the boot, leaving the manacle around the bare leg and loose enough to permit of his slipping the foot through the hopple, thus liberating it. He then drew on his boot again and taking the loose manacle in his hand, he -jumped from the window to the ground below and disappeared in the darkness. In lighting he fell upon and broke through some boards that covered an outside cellarway, creating a racket that startled the guards, but before they could get out of the house and run around to the back side of it to see what caused the racket, "Happy Jack" had scrambled out and made off as fast as his legs could carry him. When the guards turned the corner of the building they heard footsteps fleeing in the direction of the mill race where it crosses North College avenue, and they concluded that their prisoner had given them the slip, which, upon examination, proved true. An alarm was sounded and very soon a posse of men went in pursuit of the fugitive, but owing to the darkness and the number of hiding places in the bushes along the river bank, they failed to find him and he made good his escape. "Happy Jack" was never seen in this vicinity after that, and many people believe to this day that he was removed from the jail by a band of avengers who took him to Natural fort on the Cheyenne road where they hung him and buried his body in a concealed grave. This is not generally accepted as truth, however. Those who had a chance to know all the circumstances believe that he made his escape in the manner related. A circumstance that lends strength to this belief is that some three or four years afterward the manacles he wore were found near Park station, twelve miles northwest of Fort Collins, one of them being broken. The supposition is that after the fugitive had outwitted his pursuers and gotten far enough away to feel safe from recapture, he placed the manacled limb on a rock and broke the iron with a stone, thus freeing himself from an obstacle to fast traveling and also from evidence that he was an escaped prisoner. In any event, "Happy Jack" was never heard from afterwards from anyone in this vicinity, but the stories of his misdeeds and nervy escape have survived and are often recounted by old-timers.

One thing stands out in blazing characters to the credit of the law abiding sentiment which prevailed among the early settlers of Larimer county, and that is they never but once resorted to lynch law as a means of suppressing crime or redressing public grievances. Though, as is frequently the case on the border, lawless acts were committed and the civil and moral code held in open defiance and sometimes bloody tragedies were enacted, yet the people restrained their cry for vengeance and allowed the law to take its course, except in one instance. The reason for this may be found in the fact that the pioneers of the county were, as a rule, from the best blood of the Eastern states, where the courts were in full swing, where human life was protected by stringent laws, the rights of property respected, where obediance to the mandates of the constituted authorities were prerequisite to good citizenship and where punishment swiftly followed the commission of crimes. Having grown up under such conditions and amid such environments, and having an ingrained abhorence of mob rule, and, besides, being engaged in the peaceful pursuit of agriculture and stock raising, it is but natural that they should abstain until forbearance ceased to be a virtue at least, from taking the law in their own hands and visiting summary penalties upon malefactors.

On Wednesday the 4th of April, that year, James H. Howe, a mill-wright by occupation who had previously, by reason of his general bearing and skill as a mechanic, stood high in the estimation of the community, in a moment of drunken frenzy brutally and cruelly killed his wife by cutting her throat with his pocket knife. Mrs. Howe was a most estimable vi^oman and was greatly beloved by a wide circle of friends in the community, and the news of the tragedy spread all over the town like wildfire. The whole town was aroused and infuriated at the atrocity of the crime committed. The Howe family lived in the cottage which stands on Walnut street just east of the Elks' building. The tragedy occurred about one o'clock in the afternoon, and business in town was almost entirely suspended during the remainder of the day. Groups of men, women and children were seen in all parts of the town discussing with bated breath the details of the horrid crime that had startled them with the suddenness of the unprovoked brutality. Every nerve was stretched to its utmost tension and every muscle quivered with uncontrollable excitement. As the news spread to the country and people came flocking into town to learn the particulars, the excitement grew more intense and not until the tragic event which ended in the hanging of Howe by an army of infuriated citizens was there any subsidence of the feeling apparent.

Howe struck his wife first on the right side of her face with the knife, inflicting a cruel but not fatal wound. He then changed the knife to his left hand and plunged the blade into the left side of her neck, severing the jugular vein. Mrs. Howe was on her hands and knees on the ground in front of their house and Mr. Howe was upon her back with his right arm about her waist. After stabbing his victim the last time, Howe got up, went into the house and laid down upon a bed where he was found when taken into custody. Mrs. Howe struggled to her feet bleeding profusely and cried "murder" in a smothered voice. She then walked to the gate passed out to the sidewalk and started for Linden street, less than half block away. She had taken but a few steps when she stopped and tried to catch hold of a fence post for support, but failing, fell to the ground face down-ward and expired. Gus Evans, who happened to be driving past the house, saw the conflict and at once gave the alarm. William Nolan, S. H. Seckner, Thomas Ogilvie, Ed. Konsheim and Sam Rugh and others responded to the alarm and soon appeared at the scene of the tragedy. Seeing that Mrs. Howe was past help, they turned their attention to securing the perpetrator of the horrid deed. Charles Barrett and A. R. Chaffee were sent around to the back door and Seckner, Ogilvie and Night-watchman M. Rinker entered the house by the front door. They found Howe reclining upon the only bed in the house and immediately took him into custody. Howe offered no resistance to arrest. At this time Under-Sheriff Lafe Stultz arrived and, with the help of bystanders, rushed the murderer to the cell in the county jail. No attempt was made enroute to the jail to take Howe from the officer, although a large and terribly excited crowd of men followed, threatening vengeance.

"The said jurors upon their oaths do say that the deceased, Mrs. Eva Howe, came to her death about 1 o'clock of Wednesday, April 4th, 1888, from the effects of several wounds produced by a sharp pointed pocket knife in the hands of her husband, James H. Howe."

That evening at 8 o'clock the electric lights were cut out and the entire city plunged into darkness. Then a band of men, some of them masked, gathered at the jail, a small stone structure which stood at the southeast corner of Court square. Not a word was spoken. After placing Sheriff Davy and his aids under guard, an assault was made upon the jail into which an entrance was soon gained. The large iron doors which separated the cell corridor from the office, offered some resistance, but with cold chisel and hammer, the lock bolts were cut and the door was swung open. The same means were taken to open the door of the cell in which Howe was confined and within fifteen minutes from the time the crowd gathered at the jail the sought for victim was within their grasp. Shrinking and terrified with fear and piteously crying for mercy, the miserable wretch was rushed to a derrick, standing at the south end of the new court house, which had been used in lowering large blocks of flagging stone into the basement for the new jail floor. A rope with noose adjusted had already been placed in position and under this, Howe, still begging for mercy, was led. The noose was adjusted about his neck and a score of men gave a lurch on the rope and the body of the cruel wife murderer shot up into the air like a rocket. His struggles were of short duration. After life was extinct the crowd dispersed in

"Said jurors upon their oaths do say: J. H. Howe was found hanging to a derrick about 9:30 p. m. of April 4th, 1888. He came to his death at the hands of an infuriated and unknown mob by hanging. Signed, George W. Seibert, Arthur F. Brown, Henry J. Wilterding, Robert Edwards, J. T. Murphy and C. Rugh."

This ended the first and only instance in the history of the county up to this time, in which the mandates of Judge Lynch were duly and summarliy executed, and absolute, though, perhaps irregular justice was meted out to a man who had defied the laws of God and man in shedding innocent blood.

Mrs. Howe's body was shipped to the home of her parents, Mr. and Mrs. Oliver Vanderwark, at Cannington, Ontario. The little five year old daughter and only child of Mr. and Mrs. Howe was taken back to the home of its grandparents in Canada.

When in his cups Howe shamefully abused and mistreated his wife. He went home only the evening before in a state of beastly intoxication and threatened to kill her then. The next morning, on the day of the tragedy, she pleaded with him to stay at home and not go upon the street but without avail. Fearing that her life would be in danger if he came home drunk again, she began packing her own and little daughter's clothing in a trunk preparatory to leaving the house, not expecting him to return before a late hour in the night. He came home, however, shortly after 12 o'clock and found her making preparations to leave him which so enraged him that he killed her. It was evidently a cold blooded premeditated murder, as it was testified at the inquest that he was not drunk when he left the saloon to go home. Until he began to go down hill through thirst for liquor, he seemed to be very much attached to his wife and daughter and both he and his wife moved in the best social circles. But the demon drink had transformed him into a brute and he met what he deserved, an ignominious death at the hands of a mob.

During the spring round-up of 1875, there occured on the Platte below the town of Evans, one of those deplorable tragedies that frequently stained the good name of a community in the early days, ' in which one man was killed and another will carry to his grave the recollection of having taken the life of a human being, although in defense of his own life. The principals to this unfortunate affair were Tom Burris, the victim, and John Suiter, the slayer. Though the tragedy occurred in Weld county, the principals were both well known Larimer county men, and the affair excited a great deal of local interest. Burris was a stockman and lived at that time on the place now owned and occupied by L. E. Parker, near Timnath. Suiter was a young man whose home was with his parents, Mr. and Mrs. Peter Suiter, who were among the early settlers of the Harmony neighborhood, and is a brother of Alderman Ed. T. Suiter of this city. Inordinate doses of Evans whiskey was the immediate cause of the shooting, which resulted in the death of Burris, but it was believed that it was only a question of time when the victim would be either Burris or Suiter, as the two men were known to be at enmity and that Burris had frequently threatened Suiter's life. Burris had the reputation of being a bad man, especially when in liquor, and far too handy with his gun for the peace and safety of those near him when he was intoxicated. On the day of the tragedy Burris left the round-up camp and went to Evans where he proceeded to fill up on fighting whiskey and some of the men who were with him knowing of his ungovernable temper and quarrelsome disposition when in liquor, secretly took his revolver and refused to return it when he realized his loss. This put Burris in bad temper and he had no sooner gotten back to camp than he began to pick a quarrel with a cripple named Johnson. But a few words had passed between the two men before Burris drew a bowie knife and started for Johnson, who ran around the other side of the camp wagon to get away from the infuriated and drink-crazed man. It happened that Suiter was on the opposite side of the covered wagon opposite Burris when the quarrel began. He stood between the front wheel and the body and was in the act of reaching into the wagon after supplies to cook for supper. As Johnson, who was being chased by Burris, came around the wagon he called to Suiter to head off his pursuer. When Burris saw Suiter wedge'd in between the wheel and wagon body with his back toward him, he gave up the chase after Johnson and made straight for Suiter with his knife held in a threatening attitude. Suiter paid no attention to Burris until the latter grabbed him by the coat collar and back of the neck. Then he drew his revolver and throwing it over his shoulder fired without looking around, the bullet striking Burris in the chin and passing through his neck dislocated his spine at the base of the brain. At the moment that Suiter fired, Burris had his knife raised with the evident intention of plunging it into the former's neck, but the bullet got in its work first. Burris lived several hours afterward, and just before his death he requested someone to pull off his boots so that his father's prophecy, made when Tom was a boy, that he would some day die with his boots on, should not come true. Suiter was promptly arrested and given a preliminary hearing before a Greeley justice of the peace, who bound him over to the District court for trial in the sum of $10,000. The bond, signed by nearly all of the stockmen of the county, was presented to the court and Suiter was released from custody to await the action of the grand jury. When court convened in the fall the grand jury, after a thorough investigation, refused to find a true bill against the slayer of Burris and he was exonerated from the charge and set at liberty - thus ending a case in which the sympathies of almost the entire population of Northern Colorado were enlisted in behalf of Suiter, who in taking Burris' life was simply defending his own. Mr. Suiter is now a prominent citizen of Montana, whither he went several years ago.

On the 4th of March, 1886, James C. Robertson, a young ranchman living on Upper Boxelder creek, about 45 miles northwest of Fort Collins, shot Anthony Bariaut, who died a few hours later. Bariaut was postmaster at Boxelder and on the morning of the day stated, Robertson went to the postofKce to get his mail. Robertson and Bariaut got into an altercation over an old misunderstanding, during which Bariaut said "I will shoot you." He went to a back room of his house and returned with a gun which he placed to his face in an attitude of shooting. Robertson, on the alert, drew his revolver and shot three times, only two of bullets taking effect, one in the abdomen and the other in the shoulder. Bariaut died on Saturday, March 6th, and Robertson came to Fort Collins on the following day and surrendered himself to Sheriff Love. He asked for an investigation, and on Monday, March 8th, Coroner I. N. Thomas, accompanied by Dr. Geo. E. Bristol county physician. Deputy District Attorney Knud Patton, Deputy Sheriff Zook in charge of

Robertson, and Judge T. M. Robinson, attorney for the self accused man, went to Boxelder to hold an inquest. A jury composed of W. H. Bassett, W. J. Logan, W. W. Pogue, Dan T. Scully, J. Stout, and Isaac Adair was summoned by the coroner and at once proceeded to inquire into the cause or causes of the tragedy. After hearing all the evidence adduced, the jury returned a verdict that the deceased came to his death through a pistol shot fired by James C. Robertson in self defense. It was shown at the inquest that Bariaut was a quarrelsome man, who shot on short notice, and that he had threatened to kill Robertson. The incident created a good deal excitement in the neighborhood at the time. Bariaut was indicted in 1882 by the grand jury for assault to commit murder, but was permitted to plead guilty to the charge of assault and was fined $100 and costs.

On the 6th of December, 1886, Stephen Mc- Donald, a sheepherder in the employ of William B. Miner at the latter's ranch twelve miles northwest of Fort Collins, was shot and killed while in charge of a flock of 2,000 sheep on the prairie about fourteen miles north of Fort Collins, by Adam Fredericks, who lived on the Boxelder two miles up the creek from Bristol station. Mr. McDonald's sheep came to the corrals on the home place at night unattended, and a search for the herder was at once instituted. The body was discovered by the aid of McDonald's faithful dog which had remained at the side of his dead master all throughout the afternoon and until a late hour at night. Fredericks was arrested, tried, convicted and sentenced to life imprisonment in the state penitentiary. The evidence adduced at the trial, though circumstantial, was thoroughly convincing. McDonald had married Lulu Coy, a step-daughter of Frederick's, but the union was not a happy one and the shooting grew out of family difficulties.

The Overland road along the North Platte, from the junction of the South Platte, was during the summer of 1865 the scene of many conflicts and much carnage between the troops stationed along the line and the blood-thirsty savages. A large force of Indians, numbering three or four hundred, collected 4t Platte Bridge, near where the city of Casper, Wyoming, is now, and threatened the safety of a train that was coming down the river from Fort Bridger. Casper W. Collins, son of Colonel W. O. Collins, who had just been promoted to a first lieutenancy, volunteered to take command of a party of soldiers and attack the Indians and drive them off. Lieutenant Collins was a young man twenty years of age, and his friends tried to dissuade him from the undertaking, but he persisted and led the attack. The fight was a sharp one and the troops being greatly outnumbered, were driven back with a loss of more than half of the soldiers either killed or wounded. While the troops were falling back in an effort to escape, one of the soldiers was wounded and fell from his horse, but he called out to his comrades, "Don't leave me, don't leave me." Collins turned his horse and rode to the place where the wounded man was lying, but his horse becoming unmanageable, ran away with him, going at a fearful rate toward's Red Cloud's band of Sioux. The powerful grey horse soon bore his rider right among the hostiles who surrounded and killed him. A few days later, after the Indians had been driven away by a stronger force, Lieutenant Collins' body was found about a mile and a half from the spot where he turned to rescue the wounded trooper. The body had been stripped of the bright new uniform which he had put on after his muster as first lieutenant at Fort Laramie, only a few days before. The body was buried at the Fort. A year later it was shipped to his native town in Ohio and interred in the family burying ground. The city of Casper was named in his honor, even as the city of Fort Collins was named in honor of his gallant father. Colonel W. O. Collins.

The following letter written by Mrs. Catherine W. Collins, widow of the late Col. William O. Collins, to friends in Fort Collins tells of the death of her gallant husband.

My beloved husband, Col. William Oliver Collins, died October 26th, 1880. He was indeed an honored resident of Hillsborough, Ohio. He would have been extremely gratified to have learned that the "little post" he established away out on the frontier in 1864, was so prosperous. I have often thought of sending a notice of his death to Fort Collins, but did not know whom to address. There must still be living in Colorado and Wyoming some who cherish a memory of his warm, generous nature, or men connected with his regiment that will recall his faithful discharge of duties as colonel, and his readiness to brave every danger that they were called upon to meet. Will you be good enough to have a notice of his death inserted in the Courier. I thank you sincerely for the number you sent me of that paper, published in your town and am sure Fort Collins must be a thriving and highly moral place.

The first assessor to make the rounds of Larimer county is said to have found $6,000 worth of property subject to taxation. This was in 1862, shortly after the county had been created and ett off by the Territorial Legislature. The records do not show that any taxes were levied that year, as, indeed there could not have been for the reason that the board of county commissioners appointed by Governor Gilpin failed to organize and therefore had no authority to order a levy. It was not until three years later, in 1865, the year immediately following the complete organization of the county for judicial purposes that an assessment was made, and the assessor that year found property to the value of $168,167.50 subject to taxation. Upon that assessment a levy of 23 mills for all purposes was made and collected. The abstract of that year's assessment, showing the character and species of property assessed, follows:

To the list returned by the assessor the county treasurer added the following names and the taxes assessed against them: Joseph Armajoe, $11.12; William Adolph, $9.40; George F. Brigham,

$15.15; Ben Claymore, $30.10; Robert Dickson, $4.80; George Frankford, $2.50; Gill & Goodrich, $9.37; John Hutchinson, $2.50; Michael Jones, $17.10; Antoine Lebeau, $10.78; Clement Lamory, $20.90; John Steed, $3.65; Wm. E. Thomas, $5.95; C. A. Whedbee, $11.47; Joseph Hazard, $2.50. These names of tax-payers had evidently been overlooked by the assessor. These added taxes amounted to $157.29 and were apportioned to the following funds : County poll, $32 ; military poll, $8 ; general fund, including territorial tax, $117.29.

The records in the offices of the county clerk, assessor and county treasurer for the years 1865 and 1866, regarding the assessment, collection and distribution of taxes, are incomplete and it does not appear that a regular assessment roll for either of those years was made up and recorded in a book. The tax lists were made out on foolscap paper from schedules gathered by the assessor. Only three of the schedules for 1865 have been preserved and they are: John J. Ryan, who lists $1,926.00; Peter Anderson, who lists $526.00 ; C. C. Hawley, who lists $863.00.

The first county warrant drawn upon the treasurer was made out in favor of Henry Arrison, from whom the board of county commissioners had purchased a log building for the use of the county officers, for the sum of $150. This log building stood a few rods south of the present store and postoffice at Laporte. After the county seat had been removed to Fort Collins this building was taken down, moved to the south side of the river and rebuilt. It is now a part of Preston A. Taft's home. The warrant drawn to pay Arrison for this building is in words and figures as follows:

To the Treasurer of Larimer County: Pay to Henry Arrison, or order, one hundred and fifty dollars, on account of building in Laporte for County purposes, out of any money in the treasury not otherwise appropriated, and charge the same to Auditor and this shall be your voucher.

The tax list for 1866 was made out on four sheets of legal cap paper, fastened together with narrow pink ribbon, and, although somewhat faded by age is still legible. As an index of financial conditions as they existed in those days and because it contains many names that are familiar to a number of the present residents of the county, it is herewith copied at length. It is headed, "Tax List for 1866, Larimer County, Colorado Territory."

It must be remembered that when the foregoing list was made out there was not an acre of patented land in the county subject to taxation, and that the list embraced only improvements on public lands, personal property, etc. Up to the year 1865, no taxes of any kind were levied in this county, all who were residents previous to that date escaping a visit from the assessor and the county collector.

From 1865 down to 1872, the assessor kept no record save and except the tax schedules he took in listing the property of the taxpayers. These were not transcribed in a book, but were tied up in bundles, each year by itself, and the bundles laid away. From these schedules the county clerk extended the taxes on sheets of paper, fastened together with baby ribbon and the tax list thus made out was turned over to the county treasurer who charged himself with the full amount named therein and proceeded to collect from individual taxpayers named in the list the sums charged against them. These lists have been preserved in the county treasurer's office and are open to inspection. From 1872 down to the present time a complete record has been kept of assessments, tax lists and collections for each year, all in a systematic and businesslike manner.

The following table shows the value of the property assessed and the total amount of taxes levied thereon for each year from 1872 to 1909, inclusive:

The total value of assessable property as returned by the county assessor in 1865, the first year in which a legal assessment was made, was $168,167.50. These figures represent the full cash value of the property assessed, which included improvements on public lands and personal property. Not an acre of land was taxable that year as the title still remained in the government. It was not until 1868 that lands began to be assessed and taxed, and then only a few tracts which had been patented were entered on the assessment roll. By way of comparison and also to show the growth of the county and the increase in taxable property since 1865, the following abstract of the assessment for 1909 is herewith given:

In the early history of the county property assessed for taxation was placed upon the roll at its full cash value, while at the present time it is assessed at about one-third its cash value. Upon that basis the real value of the taxable property in the county in 1909 was $28,513,570, as compared with $168,167.50 in 1865. The exemption noted in the foregoing abstract embraces household furniture of a less value than $200, which every householder is entitled to, free from taxation.

List of county officers elected and appointed from the organization of the county in 1864 to January 1st, 1910, showing also beginning and end of service:

The settlers in Larimer county, at the close of 1860, were mostly single men, few in number and w^idely separated, so that even those who had families of children deemed it inadvisable and, in fact, impracticable to attempt to establish schools for their little ones. They knew that any such an attempt would prove a failure for several reasons. First, there were at that time not to exceed half a dozen white children of school age in the entire county, and their homes were so far apart they could not readily be gotten together in one place to receive instruction. Second, the county and the territory were unorganized, consequently there were no public funds for use in supporting schools, and third, the industrial possibilities of the county were so little known at that period and the minds of the settlers here so unsettled regarding the future that the first thought of parents was, "How shall we provide ourselves and children with food and clothing and protection from the dangers, seen and unseen, that surround us on all sides in this new, untried and undeveloped region ?" Necessarily, they gave but little thought to schools and churches, although the moral and intellectual training of the few children here were by no means entirely neglected. There were private schools in the families of children, and the brave, thoughtful mothers gave them such instruction in the fundamentals as their time, talents and opportunities permitted. Many of the men and women in the county today, descendants of the pioneers, are indebted to their patient, persevering and self-sacrificing mothers, who so thoughtfully and carefully laid the foundation for their education and future career, as they gathered the little ones about their knees at otherwise unoccupied moments in the early days, and imparted to them the rudiments of practical knowledge. Later on, as the county became more thickly settled and conditions had so improved that public schools were possible, we find the pioneers earnestly setting about the organization of school districts and the erection of school houses, in which their children might be given proper instruction. These school houses were often rude, log structures, but they were made comfortable and answered a good purpose.

As is elsewhere stated, the first school district organized in the county was formed and established in the Big Thompson valley in 1868. A rude cabin was built in which the first public school was opened and taught that year. Unfortunately, the name of the teacher has been forgotten and no mention is made in the records of the county superintendent's office of the number of months of school, nor of the number of children attending it. It would be interesting to know the name of that teacher and also the names of the pupils, but these have passed from the memories of the oldest inhabitant. The teacher could not have been seriously overworked, however, for in 1869, the second year of the school's history, Lucas Brandt, the secretary, reported sixteen children of school age in the district. Five other districts appear to have been created that year, the six having an aggregate school population of 95. The territory included in some of these districts embraced hundreds of square miles. The western boundary of District No. 1 was the summit of the Continental Divide, nearly one hundred miles distant from the school house.

The pioneers were mainly from the Middle Western states and most of them American born. Many of them were educated men and their wives and daughters cultured and refined ladies. Naturally, their first thought after becoming firmly established in this wild western land, more than half a thousand miles beyond the borders of civilization, was to provide means for giving their children the school advantages which they themselves had enjoyed in childhood in their far away Eastern homes. Hence, we see them as soon as there were children enough in contiguous territory to warrant the formation of a school district, banding themselves together in an effort to establish public schools. They taxed themselves heavily in erecting even rude school buildings, in paying teachers' salaries and in meeting other necessary expenses. But what a heritage they have left us! Today, Larimer county rejoices in a public school system with its rural, grade and high schools, that are equal to the best in any state in the Union, and far superior in point of efficiency and the results obtained to those of many of the commonwealths of the United States. Its school population has increased from 95 in 1869 to nearly 9,000 in 1910, and handsome brick, stone and frame buildings, modern in all respects, conveniently located, well arranged and thoroughly equipped with up-to-date appliances, have taken the places of the sod and log huts which served such a useful purpose in the pioneer days. At the present time there are fifty-three organized school districts in the county in which schools are maintained from four to nine months each year. In three of these districts. Fort Collins, Loveland and Berthoud, High schools have been conducted for several years, whose courses of study articulate closely with the higher institutions of learning in the state. All of them are in the accredited class, and their graduates pass directly into the freshman year at the State University. About one-half of the districts support graded schools in which work is carried through the tenth grade, and all of them offer a thorough common school course, thus fitting pupils for the High schools, the Normal school or the Agricultural college. A course of study has been adopted which is practically in general use all over the county and which not only adds uniformity to the system, but also affords to every child completing the prescribed course the requisites of intelligent citizenship and the knowledge necessary in the ordinary business affairs of life. Nearly all of the schools in the county are supplied with free text books, and all of them will be so supplied within a very short period of time. Free text books enables the teacher to classify her school, do better work and get better results. The free text book system also places all the pupils upon a common level so far as text books are concerned. No distinction is made between rich and poor; all are seated at the same desks, receive the same instruction and have like advantages.

Many of the graded schools and all of the High schools have libraries to which new books are added from time to time and to which pupils have free access under appropriate regulations. These libraries contain between 7,000 and 8,000 choice and wisely selected books. No state in the Union offers to the young better educational advantages than Colorado and no county in the state better than those afforded in Larimer county. Fort Collins was the first town west of St. Louis to introduce and test the kindergarten and subsequently to make it a part of her system of free schools. It was introduced in 1880 by Judge Jay H. Bouton, who was then President of the Board of Education, and the undertaking was attended by such marked success and such manifestly beneficent results that the legislature was induced, in 1893, to enact a law making the kindergarten an integral part of the public school system of the state. Since then the kindergarten has been introduced in nearly all the larger centers of population in Colorado, and is steadily working its way into popular favor in all parts of the state. With a kindergarten training at the beginning of a child's school life and ending with a High school course, with a perfect system of grading intervening and the honest, conscientious work of a competent and enthusiastic corps of teachers, such and only such as the school authorities of the county employ, it is not surprising that the public schools of Larimer county rank second to none in the whole country. Four years before a single school district had been organized and established and before a public school had been opened in Larimer county, Mrs. Albina L. Washburn, wife of the late Judge John E. Washburn and mother of Mrs. W. W. Taylor of Fort Collins, taught a small private school in a log cabin that stood on the site of the present city of Loveland. This was in 1864, and Mrs. Washburn received the munificent sum of $10 per month for her services. She had ten pupils and their names were: Theodore A. Chubbuck, Clarence L. Chubbuck, Frank G. Bartholf, Kitty Bartholf, Byron Bartholf, John Bartholf, Willie Bartholf, George Luce, Lawrence Luce and Winona Washburn, daughter of the teacher. The school was opened about the first of January and was in session three months. I am unable to learn whether a school was taught in the Big Thompson valley between that time and the date of the opening of the first public school at what was then known as Namaqua, in 1868. That year public schools were also opened at Old St. Louis, about a mile and a half east of the present city of Loveland, and at Hillsborough, six miles east of that city. The schools at Namaqua, Old St. Louis and Hillsborough were all in the Big Thompson valley. A school was organized at Laporte in 1865 and a school taught there that year, but the public records contains no mention of the district, the teacher or the pupils.

School District No. 5, known as Fort Collins, was not legally organized and established until 1870. There is no record in existence showing who the officers were at this time, but tradition informs us that Peter Anderson was the first President of the Board of Directors. There must have been some sort of an organization previous to 1870, for Mrs. Elizabeth Keays taught a school here in the winter of 1866, and the officers of the district then, as fhe remembers, were N. P. Cooper, president; W.

D. Hayes, secretary, and Capt. Asaph Allen, treasurer. The summer before that Mrs. Stratton taught a private school in her room in the hotel kept by "Auntie Stone." This hotel stood where the City Hotel now stands on Jefferson street. She opened this school for the benefit of her young son, William P. Keays, but she had not been teaching him long until other children asked to come in and study with him. In the fall of 1866 a room was fitted up in one of the buildings that had been occupied a few months before as officers' quarters when the soldiers were here, and Mrs. Stratton was employed to teach a six months' term - the first regular term of a public school taught in Fort Collins. Among her pupils were Kate Smith, William P. Keays, John O'Brien, two of Michael (Ranger) Jones' children, two of Mr. Cooper's children and three or four of Austin Mason's children. Miss Geneva Cooper, sister of Mrs. A. J. Ames, who afterwards became Mrs. W. D. Hays, succeeded Mrs. Stratton as teacher the next term, Mrs. Stratton having married Mr. Stratton in the meantime.

Mrs. Stratton relates many amusing incidents that occurred while she was employed as teacher. On one occasion she happened to look up from her work and discovered Chief Friday of the Arapahoes and some of his Indians peering into the one window of her room. The children were considerably frightened at the sight of the visitors and she admits that she was herself a little nervous at their sudden appearance. The Indians seemed to be greatly amused at the spectacle of a woman teaching so many children, and when their curiosity had been satisfied they departed without molesting anyone or anything.

After the district had been legally organized in 1870, a small frame school house was erected on Riverside avenue, between what are now known as Peterson and Whedbee streets, at a cost of $1,100. Henry C. Peterson was the contractor and builder. This building was used for school purposes until the winter of 1879, when the school was moved into the Remington school building, which had just been completed. The old school house was then sold to the Catholic Church and used by that congregation until the new Catholic Church was built in 1901 on West Mountain avenue. Miss Maggie Meldrum, sister of former Lieut. Governor Norman H. Meldrum, taught the first term of school in the old (then new) school house" in 1871. She was succeeded in 1872 by Miss Alice M. Watrous, now Mrs. A. H. Patterson.