June 29, 2019
The historic mining town of Leadville has captured our fascination: a years-ago visit whetted our interest to precipitate a return. Unlike our home of Prescott, where most of the downtown burned in 1900, Leadville did not suffer that common fate of 19th century settlements; there are many handsome structures dating from the 1870s.
In a similar way as with many Colorado sites, Leadville was a boom town with the discovery of rich ores, first gold which did not sustain, but then a fabulously rich silver strike. Horace Tabor's Matchless Mine, among many others, brought great wealth both to him and to the area.
True to form of towns based on mineral wealth, Leadville has busted, too. Leadville residents have managed to come back from economic troubles by maintaining the integrity of their historical value, unlike some other mining centers that employ cringe-worthy methods, such as filling venerable old buildings with slot machines.
The Tabor scandal, the Matchless . . .
The story of the Tabors has been told and retold many times, with typical embellishments and inaccuracies. There is truth in Tabor's great wealth which he invested in developing Leadville and other places. And there is truth in that he arrived in the area with his wife, Augusta, and that they divorced and he married the much younger divorcee known far and wide as Baby Doe. Beyond those facts, the scandal surrounding them keeps the story alive, while historical purists and local curators work to sort fact from fiction.
Our tour at the Matchless Mine was so much more than I could have imagined, thanks to our guide Brenda. We had trouble with making our timing work with guided tours there and decided to do the self-guided version. In the midst of our wander reading interpretive signs, we joined up with Brenda's group just in time to hear her talk in Baby Doe's cabin. Cannot recommend highly enough doing the guided tour there: Brenda is a marvelous story teller (reminds me of our old friend Karen Landis who worked with Chris at Elderhostel) and really knows her history.
The informative talk was given in the cabin at the Matchless in which Baby Doe lived at the end of her life after Horace's death, and in which she died and was found frozen days later. These photographs are of the cabin's interior, exterior and with the headframe of the Matchless' shaft number 6 . . .
. . . and a few of the artifacts the curators attributed to Baby Doe (her cabin was ransacked after her death).
Save the opera house . . .
Volunteers are working diligently to restore Leadville's Tabor Opera House, an effort that is reminiscent of the journey to preserve Prescott's Elk's Theater. Indeed, the Tabor was once owned by the Elks Lodge.
Another exemplary tour, we were escorted throughout the three floors of the theater by none other than the persona of Baby Doe herself, who told us all about her relationship with Horace as she maintained and showed by example that she was not the "gold digger" (or silver digger, as she joked) her contemporaries proclaimed her to be. In fact, she stood by her Horace right through his bankrupt years. Mrs. Tabor explained to us that they were married in Washington D.C. at a ceremony attended by dignitaries, including President Chester Arthur, but that none of their wives accompanied them as a signal of their disapproval.
The theater's box office reminded me of the one at our Prescott Center of the Arts, from which I sometimes dispense refreshments at intermissions.
The theater is stately; its stage has hosted a great many famous folks, including Harry Houdini (who sawed a trap door into the stage for his disappearing act), Oscar Wilde, John Philip Sousa and Buffalo Bill.
Augusta Tabor's private box is on the opposite side of the theater from
Horace and Baby Doe's. When Horace lost his massive fortune due to
ill-advised investments after the federal silver standard was
eliminated, Augusta managed to remain wealthy: one of her major
investments was in the Singer (sewing machine) company.
This view from the theater's third story old leaded glass window shows the balcony from which President Ulysses S. Grant spoke of being at the highest point in the highest city in the United States.
Music! . . .
The opera house has been purchased by the town of Leadville and is being administered by a foundation that is actively seeking donations to be used in its restoration; what a monumental job they are undertaking!
One non-monetary contribution is a real gem for the place: the 1880 nine-foot-grand piano that originally graced the stage has been returned . . .
. . . and of course we know what that means - the señor must play, and so he did, with great feeling and beauty. Notice I didn't say it was easy to get a photograph, so I will share several.
And then there was the upright grand that was just sitting there while we waited for Baby Doe to begin our tour . . .
Leadville is chock-full with wonderful buildings, some sporting murals, to be photographed. The one below is on the wall of Quincy's Restaurant in an 1879 structure.
We saw this one as we strolled up and down (literally) a few back alleyways. I thought at first it was a pump house of the type we had in the past in Chino Valley, but closer inspection revealed a large bell in there instead of a water tank. The church in front of the unusual building has a bell tower, and I was unable to find an explanation for this.
The Healy house & Dexter cabin . . .
There are historic house tours and then there are historic house tours. Like Horace Tabor, we struck it rich in Leadville with tours. The Tabor house was the only dud; the tours at the opera house and at the Healy house and Dexter cabin were some of the finest I had experienced.
A young woman by the name of Andi conducted the house and cabin tours and what an exemplary job she did. I am in awe of the knowledge, self-assurance and savoir faire that I find so many young people possess while I, at 73 (almost) can barely get through a conversation without speaking like I have just fallen off the turnip truck after not having spoken with another person in years.
At any rate, the house was furnished mostly with its original appointments and they were of the highest quality and often rare.
And no, we weren't allow to play the unusual square grand piano nor the melodian.
The Dexter cabin has been moved onto the grounds of the Healy house. Its modest plain-Jane exterior belies the graceful and unusual appointments.
Naturally . . .
The Climax mine . . .
Molybdenum - the tongue twister name of a mineral that was discovered high in the mountains in 1879 has been responsible an unbelievable amount of activity around the 11,000-foot elevation.
We saw many miles of mountaintops removed for the now-open-pit operation in addition to many miles of valleys filled in with the waste products of the mine. In fact, several towns are now far under those deposits: namely Robinson, Kokomo and Recen.
The Climax did not go into full production until 1914, but shut down in 1919 when the demand for molybdenum ceased after World War I. It reopened in 1924, but was closed again from 1995 to 2012, because the metal price collapsed. That was a major blow to Leadville, the home of many of the mine's employees, resulting in many businesses to close down for the duration. The town has rebounded resiliently since then and fair bustles with business. Despite having visited three times now, there is still more in Leadville to see and do, and I hope to return again. The residents lend an integrity to their home that appeals to me..
In case you were wondering if there was much snow still up in the mountains.
Odds & ends . . .
You better believe the sight in the next photo required a "go back, go back!" Mind boggling to see what the power of an avalanche can do - this scene looked as if a scythe had totally decimated every tree down that path - incredible!
Ice still on Clinton Gulch Reservoir!
And the most exciting of all - after ages of looking for moose and embarking on crazed hikes to find moose, all to no avail, we saw two moose while driving down the road. The sighting caused us to pull onto the tiny shoulder and start snapping away all while the hordes of mosquitoes that had been awaiting our presence attacked with vengeance. Nevertheless, I can now say I have seen moose, meese or mooses.
In parting . . .
