21 June 2009

The Fort Benton Legend of General Thomas Francis Meagher

By Ken Robison

This continues the series of frontier sketches by historians at the Joel F. Overholser Historical Research Center in Fort Benton.



At midday July 1st, 1867, General Thomas Francis Meagher with a militia escort of at least six men rode hard along Montana’s Benton Road, down the opening from the bluffs overlooking wild and wooly Fort Benton, and entered the pages of history and the stuff of legends. About ten hours later, the former Acting Governor of Montana Territory, heroic Civil War leader of the famed Irish Brigade, and Irish revolutionary leader General Meagher was dead--his death shrouded in mystery and his body lost to the depths and swift current of the spring rise Missouri River.



After recovering from war wounds, General Meagher came to frontier Montana as Territorial Secretary and became Acting Governor upon the departure of Governor Sydney Edgerton in 1865. The brilliant, but brash and unpredictable, Secretary and Acting Governor, with his wife Elizabeth, were the center of the social and political scene of the new territory during these booming gold mining days. Revered in Fenian Irish and democratic circles, Governor Meagher fought political battles with the strong Lincoln republican element. Arrival of newly appointed Governor Green Clay Smith in the fall of 1866 relieved Meagher of many of his demanding duties. However, Smith left the territory in early 1867 to escort his family up the Missouri River to Fort Benton, and Meagher again took on the demands of Acting Governor. By the spring of 1867, Montana Territory faced an expanding settler population and a perceived threat from Indian tribes. Ever hard charging, General Meagher called for federal troops, only to be answered by a promise of a federal arms shipment to the new Army post Camp Cooke on the Missouri at the mouth of the Judith River. Meagher determined to go to Fort Benton either to receive the arms there or to embark a steamboat to go down to Camp Cooke.




General Meagher departed Virginia City about June 17th accompanied by an escort of from six to twelve militiamen. He arrived in Helena June 19th, spent several days, and left in ill health for Fort Benton about June 22nd. The next day on the Benton road, the General met returning Governor Green Clay Smith and his family, who had arrived at Fort Benton June 20th on the steamboat Octavia. With their brief meeting, General Meagher again relinquished the governorship.

By the evening of the 23rd of June, General Meagher and his escorts arrived at Johnny Healy’s little trading post at Sun River Crossing. On the road from Helena, Meagher suffered from severe dysentery. In the words of Meagher biographer Paul Wylie, “years of drinking and the rigors of his chaotic life had taken their toll.” For the next week, Meagher remained at Healy’s post recovering from his illness. A week with colorful Irishmen Healy and Meagher and others, no doubt drinking and swapping tales must have been something to behold. The evening of the 30th of June, a blacksmith working for Huntley’s Stage Line reported enjoying an evening dinner “laughing and joking” with General Meagher’s party at Healy’s little 12 x 12 feet log dugout.

Early the next morning, General Meagher and his escort departed Sun River Crossing for Benton arriving tired and dusty around noon on the 1st of July. The view they saw from the bluffs overlooking Fort Benton is today hard to imagine. The head of steamboat navigation on the Missouri River in the 1860s meant just that. During the year 1867, some 41 steamboats departed St. Louis and after the long 2,400-mile trip through snags and rocks and sand bars arrived at the Fort Benton levee between the 25th of May and the 8th of August. These massive boats, from 150 to 250 feet in length, carried an average of 200 tons of freight bringing a total of more than 8,000 tons to the Fort Benton levee.

At the Fort Benton levee July 1st were four steamboats, all sternwheelers, the Amaranth, G. A. Thomson, Gallatin, and Guidon. The Amaranth, commanded by Captain James Lockhart had arrived two days earlier bringing 225 tons and 12 passengers to Fort Benton. The G. A. Thomson, under Captain J. M. Woods, Clerk J. Stewart, and pilot John T. Doran, landed the previous day with 200 tons cargo and 68 passengers after a long, hard 67-day trip from St. Louis suffering damage from a collision en route. The steamer Gallatin, under Captain Sam Howe, arrived at the levee earlier the morning of July 1st with a load of government freight from Camp Cooke. The Guidon, commanded by Captain James L. Bissell, acting throughout the boating season as tender on the Upper Missouri, arrived June 20 with 225 tons and 57 passengers plus an additional 130 passengers from Camp Cooke that had been stranded by the earlier sinking of their steamboat Nora. The Guidon was moored astern the G. A. Thomson at the Fort Benton levee on July 1.

Two other recent steamboats had just departed the Fort Benton levee. The Ida Stockdale, commanded by young Captain Grant Marsh, arrived June 29, with 20 passengers from the James H. Trover, which was grounded on a bar 45 miles below the mouth of the Musselshell. Another noteworthy boat, the Octavia, under Captain Joseph LaBarge arrived June 20 with a cargo of 174 tons and 70 passengers including Governor Green Clay Smith and his family. The trip of Octavia had been marred by the murder of an English nobleman, Captain Wilfred D. Speer of the Queens’ Guards. Speer was shot point blank in the head by U. S. Army sentry Private William Barry, an Irishman and part of a contingent of 100 soldiers from the 13th Infantry Regiment en route Camp Cooke. The Octavia had departed Fort Benton down river June 25th although the murder of the Englishman was still the talk of the town and the incident added to the animosity and tension of the Irish/English conflict.

Some 800 tons of freight had arrived on the levee during the past week. Part of this massive cargo had been loaded and was already moving along the Benton Road, but several hundred tons remained on the levee. Many wagons and men, hundreds of oxen, mules, and horses were loading, unloading, and moving from the levee through the streets of Fort Benton and onto the trails leading in every direction from Fort Benton. From four to eight yoke of oxen drew each wagon, which could carry about two tons of freight. Each wagon train made a stunning show.

The sleepy little river town of today was booming and bustling day and night during the steamboating season in 1867. A traveler returning to Montana Territory several weeks earlier on the steamer Waverly, was surprised at the growth in Fort Benton, writing, “Arrived at Benton we found that place much improved. We may say in general terms, that every one has new buildings, and the place has arrived at the dignity of two hotels, saloons and gambling tables.”

“Improved” or not, frontier Fort Benton was earning a reputation with “the bloodied block in the West,” and in the summer of 1867 businesses like Mose Solomon’s Medicine Lodge and The Jungle were roaring with day and night life of all kinds. It was from the second story of The Jungle’s flimsy frame earlier in June that infamous Eleanor Dumont, better known as Madame Mustache, left her blackjack game, sprinted across the street to the levee, flourished two pistols and warned off the pilot of the Walter B. Dance, reported to have smallpox aboard. Just after his arrival, Governor Green Clay Smith had witnessed a brawl spill into the street from the Medicine Lodge, a discharged fireman from the steamer Guidon with a bowie knife and another man with a derringer. Sheriff William Hamilton arrested both men but the absence of a Justice of the Peace forced their release. The fireman regained his knife and immediately confronted Governor Smith, who proceeded personally to subdue the man with a club. Adding to this wild and wooly environment, tensions had risen with Native Americans during recent months, reports had come of the latest Fenian invasion of the British Possessions the previous year, and territorial political and social antagonisms had increased. As General Meagher rode into town weighing heavily on his mind no doubt was the fact that he was in debt, out of work, and the subject of immense controversy, beloved by some, hated by others.

Republican leader and political adversary, Wilbur Fisk Sanders was present in Fort Benton at the time awaiting the arrival of his family coming up the Missouri on the steamboat Abeona. Sanders greeted General Meagher and his escort and spend part of the early afternoon with him. Fort Benton merchant I. G. Baker met the general on the levee and invited him to dinner at Baker’s house across from the levee. During their conversation, Governor Meagher announced that he was going down river to receive the arms shipment.

General Meagher spent much of the afternoon next door in a back room at Baker’s store where he read, greeted visitors, and wrote correspondence. It was there that Meagher wrote his last letter, imploring secretarial auditor Ming to pay back wages to ease his serious financial woes.

After spending the afternoon at the I. G. Baker store and eating supper at Baker’s house, Meagher boarded the steamboat G. A. Thomson to spend the night. He was never seen again, and his body was never found. Did he die from Vigilante justice? Trip and fall from a weakened railing? Jump in frustration over failed finances? That is the great mystery of General Meagher’s death in Fort Benton and the birth of a legend.
Paul R. Wylie’s The Irish General Thomas Francis Meagher carefully sorts through the conflicting accounts of the general’s last day. Wylie explores the accounts of Wilbur Fisk Sanders, I. G. Baker, pilot Johnny Doran, and others, and examines possible suspects ranging from the Vigilantes, anti-Irish hotheads, enemies such as Indian agents Augustus Chapman and Major George B. Wright. These accounts, conflicting often in detail and tone, make fascinating reading. Wylie also weighs the evidence for an act of suicide or a tragic accident to explain the death. The Coroner’s Inquest into the Death of General Thomas Francis Meagher, to be held at the Ag Center Friday evening June 26th, will hear testimony from all these accounts. The Inquest to be held just five days short of 142 years after Meagher’s death will be entertaining for all, and all will no doubt go away with a favorite theory.

So, here is mine. During the afternoon on July 1st, General Meagher was sober but still suffering from severe dysentery. During the afternoon I. G. Baker offered Meagher several glasses of blackberry wine, commonly used then to cure diarrhea. Accounts vary about where Meagher dined that evening, either with Pilot Johnny Doran on board the G. A. Thomson or at Baker’s home. Most likely, the general had supper at Baker’s home leaving by 7 p. m. Toward dusk, Meagher sat with a group of men in front of Baker’s store. The party got loud, and Meagher began exhibiting possible symptoms of delusion and paranoia, expressing concern that his enemies were about to do him harm. Apparently, Doran got Meagher to the steamboat G. A. Thomson. There, Meagher, Doran, James M. Woods, captain of the boat, and others began drinking in the boat’s salon, and Meagher became inebriated. Meagher and Doran then may have once more gone ashore for a short while. Doran got Meagher back to the G. A. Thomson and into the cabin of Captain Woods, the outside door of which faced the water, some time after dark. Meagher got ready for bed, and Doran left him thinking his friend was asleep and proceeded to the lower deck.

About 10 p. m. Doran heard a splash in the waters and heard the cry of “man overboard,” probably uttered by the boat’s black barber who was on watch and had caught a glimpse of a man in the water. Most likely General Meagher, dressed in his underclothes, suffering from exhaustion, too much to drink, and his severe bout of diarrhea, opened the cabin door to go onto the upper deck to relieve himself. There he stumbled and fell overboard from a portion of the deck that had been damaged by an earlier collision with part of the deck railing broken off.

At least four witnesses saw Meagher fall from the boat. One credible witness, Ferdinand Roosevelt, then Wells Fargo agent at Fort Benton, saw Meagher fall overboard and testified that there was no attacker and that General Meagher had been drinking heavily. A correspondent from the Montana Post was on board the steamer Guidon at the time and heard the plunge, briefly saw a head in the water, and then all was still. Pilot Doran described the waters as "...instant death – water twelve feet deep and rushing at the rate of ten miles an hour.” Floating lifebuoys were put out, lights were lit, and a boat was launched and every exertion was made first to recover and later to locate the body of the general. The search continued for several days before it was called off. It would not be the first or the last body never to be found after drowning in “the big Muddy.” General Meagher body was lost to the ages but his spirit lived on.

Upon hearing the news, Governor Smith issued a proclamation ordering tributes of respect and offering a reward for recovery of his body. Flags of Governor Meagher’s native land and adopted country were flown at half-mast as a mark of respect to his memory. A large “citizens’ meeting” was held in Helena to mourn the General’s death proclaiming “our country has lost a true patriot, a friend of universal liberty, a sympathizer with the afflicted of all nations, a foe to tyranny, a fearless and intrepid general, a man of genius and of eloquence, who, at all times was ready to sacrifice personal interest for the public good.”

Ironically, Fort Benton returned quickly to normalcy with steamboats coming and going with regularity. The G. A. Thomson left for St. Louis at noon on the 2d [of July] “with some twenty passengers, the majority of whom were returning pilgrims, disgusted with the country.” Fort Benton “had a gay time on the 4th” [of July]. At noon, all available ordnance of the town “belched forth the joyous proclamation of the only American national holiday.” At 2 o’clock on board the steamer Antelope, a large audience assembled to listen to the “finest, most terse and appropriate” fourth of July oration by Col. W. F. Sanders, preceded by the reading of the Declaration of Independence by Major Wright. In the evening the celebration was closed by “a squaw dance in a large hall on the levee, well attended by all shades of female aborigines, most of whom, although well versed in the arts of the mazy dance, resisted all attempts at conversation, astonishing St. Louis gentlemen, who honored the floor with their fashionable selves.” Innumerable fights occurred and “the inhabitants enjoyed themselves as well as could be expected under the circumstances.” By then the search for General Meagher’s body had been suspended.

In a letter from Fort Benton dated July 6, “Fleet-Wing” reported that the Gallatin arrived that evening and landed a battery of six twelve pound mountain howitzers, 2,500 stand of muskets, and an immense amount of ammunition for the use of the Montana militia. General Meagher’s arms had arrived, but he was not there to meet them.

As you visit today’s Fort Benton, you see a small, quiet river town with a big history. Look over Fort Benton from the bluffs and imagine the town in 1867 going full blast night and day. Imagine the long levee filled with up to eight steamboats at a time, hundreds of tons of freight piled on the levee, and hundreds of freight wagons and muleskinners filling the streets. When you walk the streets and tour the still standing I. G. Baker house, imagine the Irish General sitting there, eating his last midday meal with I. G. Baker. As you read the interpretive sign on the levee, imagine General Meagher sitting at a table in the back room of the Baker store spending his last afternoon. As you visit the Museum of the Upper Missouri look at parts of two surviving crates addressed to “His Excellency the Governor of Montana Territory” and used to ship the arms from the federal arsenal at Frankfurt. As you walk the levee, imagine General Meagher greeting Sanders and many well-wishers. See the 200-foot steamboat G. A. Thomson moored alongside and General Meagher restless in his stateroom just before he stepped out the cabin door and off the deck into the cold, swirling current to his watery grave. Pause at the new Thomas Francis Meagher Monument on the levee to pay homage to the exceptional Irish revolutionary hero, the brave Civil War leader of the Irish Brigade, and the larger than life early Montana territorial saint and sinner. You are in Fort Benton, Montana--Meagher country!

[Sources: Paul Wylie’s The Irish General; Joel Overholser’s Fort Benton World’s Innermost Port; John G. Lepley’s Birthplace of Montana A History of Fort Benton; Montana Post 29 Jun, 6, 13, 20 Jul 1867; Helena Herald Weekly 3, 10 Jul 1867; Rocky Mountain Gazette 6 Jul 1867]

Photos:

(1) General Thomas Francis Meagher, Civil War Leader of the Irish Brigade.
(2) General Meagher and His Militia Escort Riding Down the Benton Road July 1, 1867.
(3) Federal Arms Shipping Cases Addressed to “His Excellency The Governor Montana Terr.” on Display at the Museum of the Upper Missouri.
(4) General Meagher Falling into the Missouri River.
(5) Or did General Meagher Jump?
(6) Governor’s Proclamation $2,000 Reward for Recovery of the Body of General Meagher.
(7) Rocky Mountain Gazette Death Newspaper Mourning the Loss of General Meagher.

Obituary: General Thomas Francis Meagher




[Thomas Francis Meagher drowned in the Missouri River at Fort Benton July 1, 1867, 142 years ago. Just as Fort Benton will finally have a coroner’s inquest into his mysterious death this Friday evening at 7 p. m. in the Ag Center, the River Press now carries his obituary.]

Thomas Francis Meagher was born on the 3d of August 1825, at Waterford, one of the oldest and most renowned cities of Ireland. At the age of eleven he was sent to the Jesuits at Clongowes Wood College, County Kildare, Ireland. He remained there for five years, and was then sent to Stonyhurst College, the celebrated seminary of the English Jesuits in Lancashire, England. Here he devoted himself to his studies, and became a favorite with his fellow students. At the close of his collegiate course at Stonyhurst he carried off the silver medal for rhetoric, and was acknowledged as one of the foremost orators of that school of rhetoric and eloquence.

On leaving Stonyhurst, it was his intention to become an officer in the British army; but O’Connell at that time had raised what was recognized by some as the flag of Irish nationality, and Thomas Francis Meagher three aside his prospects as an officer in the British service, and boldly threw himself into the national cause, as it was magnificently presented to him by that greatest of Irish patriots. In the abortive attempt of ’48, he therefore exposed himself to the power of the British Government; and, after the feeble and futile efforts among the mountains of Tipperary, he was arrested and transported for life, (never again to see his native land) which sentence still held good at the time of his death.

Renouncing his parole, he made his escape from Van Deiman’s Land [Tasmania Island] and arrived in New York on the 27th of June 1852. Immediately on his arrival, the citizens of all parties enthusiastically welcomed him. The Common Council of New York presented him with a complimentary address, and invited him to a public procession and the hospitalities of the city. This he declined in a very eloquent letter, alleging as his principal reason for so doing, that those who had shared the danger and misfortunes of the attempt to free his native land were still in captivity, and that it would be unworthy of him to accept any ovation while they were in exile. For the first three years of his residence in the United States he devoted himself to lecturing before the Literary societies of the great cities North and South and became acquainted with the leading men of both sections.

Early in 1856, he started the “Irish News,” but wishing to have a more active field for the exercise of his talents, he sold out in 1858, and went to Central America. The results of his explorations in that country appeared in a series of charmingly written articles in “Harper’s Magazine.”

On his return from Central America the war of rebellion broke out, and although attached to the South from personal associations of the most cordial character, he still felt and saw that it was his duty to sustain the authority of the United States, and he determined to support it by his presence in the field. Of his brilliant career in the field we are all-cognizant; suffice that the famous Irish Brigade under his command won imperishable laurels all through the Peninsular campaign, and participated in all of the important battles.

For his gallant and devoted services in defense of the National cause, president Johnson placed him on the list of brevets, on the termination of the war. He was appointed Secretary of Montana in 1865, and arrived here in October of that year. Since his arrival in Montana he has prominently identified himself with the material interests of the Territory, ever aiding them with that earnest, impulsive generosity of spirit, which was a marked characteristic of his nature.

Gifted with talents of a high order, and endowed with a liberal education, his efforts on the rostrum or in the study, were among the most brilliant of the day. Rich in the lore of ancient days, a ripe scholar, an observing traveler; uniting with the quick wit of his native land a fervid fancy and identity toned by the pathos of an exile’s life, his forensic appeals were models of beauty and eloquence.

In social life he was courteous, amiable and hospitable, and a welcome guest in every circle. The intelligence of his untimely death spread a shadow of gloom over every heart, and the public tributes of respect are but the exponents of the sincerest sorrow by the people.

[The Montana Post July 6, 1867 carried this original obituary.]

General Meagher second wife, Elizabeth Townsend and a son Thomas Francis Meagher III, by his first marriage, survive him. A statue commemorates General Meagher’s heroic life on the front lawn of the Montana State Capitol in Helena.

[Photo: TFMeagher in Civil War Uniform]

13 April 2009

The Battle of Cow Island

[In this article the Irish story-teller Michael Foley relates his experiences at Cow Island in late September 1877, when the Nez Perces forded the Missouri River and skirmished with the small garrison stationed there to protect government and private freight stored from arriving steamboats. His interviewer Harry M. Miller, a reporter for the Belt Valley Times, fortuitously captured this story for just two weeks later in 1901 Mike Foley passed away. Despite some hyperbole and the language of the 19th century, Foley's story is generally accurate and in far greater detail than any other account of this small, but important fight. Except for the Cow Island fight, the subsequent Cow Creek Canyon fight, and the Nez Perces encampment between these two engagements, Howard and Miles would not have caught and captured Chief Joseph and most of his Nez Perces, sadly ending their long trek on the Trail of Courage. Ken Robison]

How Ten Men Defeated Three Hundred Nez Perce Warriors the Story of the Battle at Cow Island, When Chief Joseph’s Band Was Repulsed by the Determined Stand of a Little Body of Brave White Men.

Justice of the Peace Michael Foley is just about the busiest man we know of in these parts. The judge is a democrat and last fall was elected as a justice of the peace for the East Belt precinct.

Now the judge has never studied Blackstone, and he probably would not be considered a reliable authority on law in general, but it has been found that usually, his decisions stand the test of an appeal in the higher court. One thing is certain, and that is that no man has ever dared to question the judge’s honesty upon all occasions.

In addition to weighty problems of the law, the solution of which occupies a very large part of the judge’s time, he owns a ranch a few miles down the creek that requires some of his personal attention. That is not all, he has a contract to haul all the mine props up to the mine from the place they are unloaded from the railroad cars and while he makes no professions of being a particularly wicked man, he seems to be determined to have no rest, so he had himself appointed deputy license collector for the Belt district. With these manifold duties devolving upon him, it can readily be understood that the judge is not an idle man. In fact, the judge’s propensity for active labor is so marked that some of his friends have been heard to remark that they would be willing to bet their last white chip that when he went to his “eternal rest” he would kick over the traces and go to work. But the judge can’t help it. He comes of a long line of ancestors who for centuries have toiled among the shamrock and potato fields of Ireland. it is just as natural for him to love to work as it is natural for nurse girls to love policeman. he was born with the spirit of hustle upon him and he has been hustling ever since that momentous occasion. He hustled away from home and across the ocean when a mere boy hustled for grub among the “yellow kids” on the Bowery of New York, hustled his passage down the east coast of America, across the Isthmus of Panama and up the western coast, landing at the Golden Gate in 1861. He hustled among the early pioneers of Idaho, Washington and Montana and some day he will hustle himself into an honorable grave and 10 to 1 will register a kick with old St. Peter because he can’t come back and shovel dirt in on his own coffin.

Like many of the pioneers, he has enjoyed prosperity, suffered poverty and met adventure.

There have been times when he had several thousand dollars of his own in his inside pocket. He was among the early settlers in the Neihart-Barker mining districts and now owns mining claims there that, with silver at $103, would yield him a rich competence.

There have been times when he spent his last two-bit piece and went hungry for days at a stretch.

Adventure! Well, Justice Foley has had his full share of the hair raising variety. Probably no other man in the state of Montana has stood face to face with death, on land and sea, as often as has the Judge.

He was a deputy sheriff in the early days of the Barker mining camp, and in his time he has bumped up against some pretty tough characters.

Upon more than one occasion he has looked down the yawning depths of the barrel of a six-shooter when the nervous trembling of a finger would have sent his soul into eternity; yet no man ever saw Judge Foley display the pallid flag of fear.

Chief among his adventures in the early days of Montana was that historical occasion upon which he and nine companions fought and defeated Chief Joseph of the Nez Perce Indians and his band of 300 fighting savages.

Robert Vaughn, in his book, “Then and Now,” makes brief mention of a fight that occurred between Chief Joseph’s Indians and some men that were camped on Cow island in the Missouri river, below Fort Benton. That fight was probably one of the most remarkable of the many bloody battles in which the Nez Perce Indians engaged during their retreat from Idaho, across Montana towards the Canadian Line. It seems almost incredible that 10 men could successfully withstand repeated attacks by such a howling horde of scalp hunters as composed Chief Joseph’s band at that time. After Joseph’s capture a few days later he told General Miles that the little band at Cow island were the hardest fighters he had ever been up against.

The writer dropped into the Judge’s office the other day to get the story of this battle and right here might be mentioned a little coincidence that will probably strike some of our readers as being a little bit odd. When I opened the door and stepped into the little office where justice and peace settle neighborhood quarrels and fine petty offenders I found the Judge intently studying a piece of not paper that was yellow and ragged with age and upon which there appeared some writing.

The judge’s face was wrinkled and screwed into a frown that suggested dun bills. “Good morning, Judge; what have you there, a due bill?” “Yes, sir,” and the judge slapped the paper down on the desk under his hand. “Yes, sir, I have a due bill and every time I get it out and look at it I very nearly lose my patriotism. Read it.” He passed the paper over the desk. It contained the following memorandum:

“Cow Island, on Missouri River, Montana, September 26, 1877.--The following is a true and correct statement of losses by the Nez Perce Indians while in charge of the government freight at Cow Island on the 22nd of September, 1877, at which time said Indians burnt and destroyed 250 tons of government and individual freight:
“Cash................................. $475
“Trunk..................................... 5
“Two robes.............................24
“Two blankets.........................24
“One suit clothes.....................40
“One suit clothes.....................30
“Michael Foley.”

“Now, if you had fought an army of red devils for 30 hours, trying to defend government property, and had had a sort of an idea all that time that your scalp was going to be dangling from an Indian war belt, and had lost every measly red cent you had on earth, you would rather expect the government to make your loss good, wouldn’t you? Yes, well, so did I, and while my claim was duly presented, not one cent of it was ever allowed. That’s why I don’t always feel as patriotic as a good citizen should.”

“Judge, do you know that I came in here to ask you about that very light, and it was a bid odd that I should find you with this paper in your hand, don’t you think so?"

“It was funny, wasn’t it. So you want me to tell you about the Cow island fight?” The Judge removed his glasses and laid them upon a copy of the Montana code. “Yes, certainly I will tell you about it. By the way did you ever hear why this island was called Cow island? Away back in the early part of the nineteenth century some traders found a lonely, solitary cow on the island. She was hundreds of miles away from any others of her kind and was probably the pioneer cow of Montana. Without doubt she had been stolen from some white settlement away down east and driven into the wilderness by the Indians. The traders named it Cow island. The island contained several hundred acres of land and was covered with as pretty a growth of cottonwood timber as ever I saw. I have heard that some of the Indians made their headquarters there in the early times and I guess there have been enough pow-wows and dances and Indian romances on the island to make two or three of Fenimore Cooper’s novels if they were all known and written up. Some one was telling me just the other day, that the island is gone; has been eaten up by the hungry current of the Missouri river and that the place don’t look like it did when we had our little scrap there.

“I reckon that fight of our was about the warmest thing Cow island ever saw.” The Judge was smoking a pipe filled with fragrant tobacco. For a long time he sat tilted back in his chair, gazing at the floating blue clouds of smoke that circled above his head. Even the writer began to see tomahawks, scalping knives and war bonnets in the smoke.

“Yes, I’ll tell you about it.” He ran his hand back over his shining crown. “You see I haven’t a hair on the top of my head,” and there was just the glimmer of a twinkle in his eye. “What? Oh, no, the Indians didn’t take it, but they came pretty derned near it, and don’t you forget it.

“About the first of September, 1877, Col. George Clendenin appointed me as clerk to ship freight from Cow island to points in Montana, principally Deer Lodge, Fort Shaw, Helena and Missoula. At that time the water in the Missouri was very low and boats were unable to reach Fort Benton. The Josephine line of steamboats unloaded at Cow island and it was this freight that I was looking after. The government had an engineering outfit working at Dalphin rapids, a few miles further up the river. About the 20th of September they moved their commissary stores down to Cow island. A sergeant, a corporal, and seven soldiers were in charge of the supplies. They piled the stuff up at a point about 100 yards above were the government supplies were piled and covered it with tarpaulins and pitched their tent immediately alongside.

“We were not camped on the island, but along the east bank of the river. To keep the water from running into their tent and supplies in case of a storm, they dug a ditch about 2 1/2 feet deep all the way round. The dirt from the ditch they threw up on the outside. To that little ditch and wall of dirt we 10 men, later on, owed our lives. For 30 hours we lay behind that little earthen breastwork and, with our Winchesters kept death and a howling horde of savages at bay.

“We had heard that the Nez Perce Indians were heading for Canada, closely pursued by General Howard, but we had figured out that they would cross the Missouri river at Claggett and we did not anticipate for a moment that we would see any of them.

“About 3 o’clock on the 22nd of September we saw some Indians coming down the bluffs on the west side of the river and it was not long until Joseph’s entire band had crossed over to the east side where we were camped.

“We got inside the little bank of dirt and waited for developments. Joseph, Looking Glass and several others soon came down near to us and made signs for us to come out. I had seen them both in Washington, and knew them as soon as they got up where I could get a look at them. I went out unarmed to meet them. Joseph had an interpreter with him who spoke very good English. He asked me who was in charge of the big pile of freight. I told him I was and then he wanted to know who owned it and asked if we had any whisky or ammunition. I told him that we had no whisky and that all the ammunition we had was a little for our own guns, which was the truth.

“Joseph said something to the interpreter and the interpreter turning to me, asked: ‘You know who Indians are? pointing to Joseph and Looking Glass.'

“Yes,” I replied. “You are Chief Joseph and Looking Glass. I was among your people in Washington before I came here; my heart has always been good toward your people. I know you very well.”

“Joseph seemed rather pleased at my little speech and then told me he wanted me to give them something to eat. I told them to go to the big pile of freight and take what they wanted. I went with them down to the freight pile and the squaws took several sacks of sugar, some hams, hard tack and a lot of other truck. They carried it about a half a mile up the river to a little bench land where the whole lousy outfit had a feast and pow-wow.

“While the squaws were carrying awy the provisions Joseph told me his men would not fight us. He said: ‘We are across the water from the old woman’--meaning General Howard--’and I want to get in a good country where my young men and our horses can get plenty to eat.’

“I told him that around the Little Rockies and the Bear Paw mountains the country was covered with buffalo, deer, antelope and elk and that grass was as high as his ponies’ backs--and that was the truth, too.

“Well, after they had filled up on government bacon and hard tack the whole outfit pulled and moved over the bench into a little basin out of sight of our camp.

“I did not like the move and stole up into a little ravine from where I could see what they were up to. After they had all gone over there the bucks sat down in a circle and began to pass the pipe. I noticed that about one-fourth of them passed the pipe along and would not smoke. I felt pretty sure that that meant trouble for us, and I went back and told my comrades that we were in for it; that the Indians were going to fight us.

“The Dutch corporal laughed at me and said, ‘they won’t fight us. Joseph has given us his word.’

“All right,’ I replied, ‘you wait until about sundown and see if I don’t know something about Indians myself.’

“Sure enough, just about sundown, while we were all standing around drinking coffee and eating hard tack, there was the w-h-i-z, w-h-i-z of bullets in the air, followed by the crack of a dozen rifles. One of our men was hit in the palm of the hand while in the act of taking out a piece of hard tack.

“‘In the ditch with your guns!': I yelled, and down we went into the little breastwork, every man with his Winchester.

“I don’t know how it happened, but I took command of that little party and while I dare say we did not fight according to army tactics, I rather think, as the preacher says, that we ‘made our influence felt.’

“Well, sir, there was about 200 Indians lined up on the hill east of and above us and the way they dropped lead into our little circle of breastworks was simply a terror.

“We hugged down in the ditch on the side next to the Indians and their shots all went over our heads or landed in the dirt bank. Well, after a few minutes of that sort of thing we began to get hot about it. I had a made-to-order Winchester rife that was the best gun I ever handled. When I took a look along the sights of that gun and got the pumping machinery into motion something usually dropped and I want to tell you that several things dropped on that occasion. I noticed that the rest of the boys seemed to understand their guns pretty well and I reckon it was not more than a few minutes before we had all those Indians driven out of sight.”

“Did you hit any of them?”

The Judge paused for a full half-minute. “Oh, no, of course we didn’t hit any of them; they were a nice lot of Indians and just fell dead to be accommodating.”

“One would suppose,” he continued, “that that night would have seemed endless to us 10 men, lying behind out breastworks with a horde of savages circling around the outside determined to get our scalps. On the contrary, however, the hours were so full of excitement that morning came before we scarcely realized that night had set in. All night long the Indians kept firing into us. One of the soldiers, a fellow named Buck Walters was shot in the shoulder.

“There was a coulee just north of the pile of freight, that led back from the river, and through this coulee the Indians were able to get at the pile of freight without us being able to see them. Working on the side of the freight pile furtherest away from us, they carried everything away they wanted and set fire to the remainder. I believe they intended to carry everything away they wanted and then rush in and kill us, but the fire they started lit things up so well that we could see in every direction and we soon convinced them that it was decidedly unhealthy for an Indian to get out in the light.

“Ah, sir, but that little scene in the drama of Joseph’s retreat before General Howard, and just before his capture by General Miles, had the stage setting that was awe-inspiring, brilliant and tragic. There were 250 sacks of bacon in the freight pile ad when they began to blaze the flames leaped higher than the surrounding hills.

“West of us rolled the turbulent Missouri, looking, in the light of the fire, like a river of blood and flame. East of us rose the bluffs, across the face of which flitted strange and grotesque shadows, called into shape by the leaping and jumping flames. Ever and anon we could see dashes of fire, like the blaze of a fire fly leap out from some shadowy place and then would come the song of a bullet over our heads or near us, followed by the report of a rifle.

“Four or five times during the night the Indians tried to rush in on us, but we always met them with such a volley of lead that they would retreat out of sight. We fired 600 rounds of ammunition that night. I believe the fire was what saved us, though.

“When daylight came there was not an Indian in sight. we kept pretty quite for awhile fearing they were laying for us to show ourselves, but after cautiously getting up for a few seconds at a time without anything happening we finally decided they were gone. We began to stir around and stretch ourselves then. Pretty soon, after sun-up, however, two bucks appeared on the top of the eastern bluffs. They appeared to be making signs to others to come up and help kill the lying white men. I dropped down on one knee, took deliberate aim with my trusty old gun, and fired first at one and then at the other. They jumped up in the air and tumbled over like a deer that had been shot through the heart.”

"Do you mean that you killed them?”

There was another pause during which the judge eyed his interrogator.

“No, of course I did not kill them; they just died of heart disease,”--and then he went on with the story--”We did not see any more of the Indians for an hour. After about that long a bullet came--z-i-p-p--into the sand right among us and several seconds later the report of what we though must be a small cannon came reverberating up the river.

“On the point of a bluff about 800 yards down the river from where we were, we could see a puff of smoke floating slowly away on the breeze. While we were watching this smoke we saw another puff belch forth from near the top of the bluff and about two seconds later another big bullet whizzed through the air and we all ducked our heads like a lot of geese.

“Well, sir, that thing kept up for an hour. We did not know what to make of it and rather enjoyed it. We could see the little puff of smoke spring up and then have plenty of time to dodge down into the ditch before the ball would come, and then we would jump up and shout defiance at the red devils before the report would reach us. We really like the sport. I heard afterwards that the gun was one that had been built to shoot elephants with, and that Joseph’s crew had taken it from some Englishman they had captured in the National park. They ‘got next’ to how to use it all right for at a distance of 800 yards they could put a bullet into our little circus ring every time. After about an hour of that sort of target practice with their new gun, the Indians withdrew and we saw nothing more of them.

“Early in the morning of September 22, I had loaded out some bull teams for O. G. Cooper, now of Choteau, and one for Frank Farmer, who died recently. The Indians went up Cow creek and overtook these freight teams. They killed a man named Bradley, who was with Cooper, and burnt and destroyed the wagons and goods. Cooper and Farmer escaped and came back to Cow Island being very much surprised to find us alive. They went to Fort Benton and on the day they left, Colonel Clendenin came down the creek along. When we told him what happened he said, “Well, Mike, it is too bad I was not here to help you whip the scoundrels.’

“Colonel Clendenin told me that one of the North-West steamboats, while trying to get over the shallows at Grand Island, 20 miles below, got stuck on a sandbar. He thought that there was a doctor on the boat and that it would be better to take the two wounded men down there, where they could be taken care of. We had some flatboats and skiffs tied up along the river bank, but the Indians had turned them all loose except one small skiff that we had dragged up into the brush and they had failed to find. After the dusk of evening began to fail--that was the second day after the fight--we put the two wounded men in the skiff, and leaving the other men in the camp, Col. Clendenin and I started down and pretty soon we were hailed by a party from the bank. They turned out to be the Fort Benton volunteers, with Major Ilges, Col. Donnelly and Judge Tattan in the lead.

“They wanted us to go back and show them the ford across the river and join them in the chase after the Indians. We explained to them that we were taking wounded men down to the steamboat and also advised them not to cross the river. They were only 75 of them all told, and we told them we could not hope to do anything with the 300 fighting bucks with Joseph and if they went after them they would only get killed. I told Colonel Clendenin that if he wanted to go all right, but that I had had quite enough for one round. The colonel stayed with me and went down to the steamboat. The volunteers went up to our camp, crossed the river and followed the Indians. The only thing in God-a-Mighty’s world that saved their lives was the fact that Joseph thought they were the advance guard of General Howard’s command. As it was, one man was killed and the volunteers came back to Cow island pell mell and went home.

“We got the wounded men to the steamboat about 11 o’clock that night leaving them in the care of the doctor whom we found on the boat. They both recovered. I was so dead tired and exhausted, not having had any rest for three days and nights, that I told the colonel to go on back to our camp while I would lie down and sleep a few hours and would be back to our camp by 10 o’clock. We had to walk back, not being able to pull the boat against the current of the river. The colonel started at once while I stretched out on the floor of the boat to get some sleep. The purser called me about 4 o’clock in the morning, and I started back.

“When about half way and trudging along at a pretty stiff gait a bullet suddenly kicked up the dust just to one side of me and almost instantly another whistled through the air so close to my face that I could taste it. I saw the two red varmints before the crack of their guns reached me. They were off to my right about half way up the buffs and 300 yards away. Well, you can just bet I wasn’t long in getting action on my old Winchester.”

The Judge paused as if expecting something.

“What became of the Indians?”

There was just the glimmer of a blaze in the judge’s eye as he again took his feet down off the table and leaned over the desk.

“It strikes me, young man, that you ask some mighty foolish questions. How do I know what became of the Indians? I reckon they just got tired and laid down there to dream of the happy hunting grounds. Say, did you ever see a scalped Indian? No? Well, I have, and don’t you forget it either.

“Down at my ranch I have a handkerchief such as Indians sometimes wear around their heads. There is a bullet hole in it and even yet some dried splotches of blood. I picked it up on the spot where the Indians first fired upon us. I have also a fine hair brush that I picked up in the same place and they had evidently dropped when we fired into them.

“A few days after our fight, General Howard and staff arrived at Cow island, camped all night, and the next afternoon started down the river to join General Miles. A few days later occurred the historic capture of Chiefs Joseph and Looking Glass.” -- Harry M. Miller of Great Falls, in the Belt Times.

[Source: Belt Valley Times/Great Falls Tribune 13 Jul 1901, p. 5]

Charlie Russell Is The Bloomin' Hero

New Play By A Former Great Falls Man, The Scene of Which Is Laid in Montana and Charley Russell Is the hero--It Will Shortly Be Produced.

[Note: Has anyone ever heard of this play about Charlie Russell? This story appeared in the 16 August 1906 Great Falls Daily Leader]

At last Charles M. Russell, cowboy artist, horse wrangler, sculptor, story teller and all-around good fellow, has been handed a bunch of real fame. A play has been put together by a couple of enterprising young men of St. Paul, which threatens to be produced on a real stage with Russell as the hero.

Russell is the only artist living who can reproduce the real west of the past, on canvas, and once upon a time he consented that a cigar be named after him; that was supposed to be the limit, and “C. M. Russell, the Cowboy Artist,” decided then and there to go out of the fame business. But the cigars were as smoke compared to the latest, a four-act play of the wild and woolly kind, with Indians, cowboys and different varieties of jiggeroos, written by a former Great Falls man on an inspiration furnished by Russell. At least that is the way it is advertised in the St. Pul Dispatch’s dramatic news. Mr. Thode, author of the new play, was formerly a resident of this city, and his mother and brother make their home here at the present time, the latter being engaged in the express business. The Dispatch says:

“A play written by two St. Paul men and submitted recently to George Fawcett has evoked a very favorable opinion from that experienced actor and director. The new work, a four-act comedy drama, was written by Alfred J. Thode and Stanley E. Hills. They have entitled it fetchingly, in this day of wild west drama, “The Cowboy Artist.”

“Unlike Clyde Fitch and many other native dramatists who have put the west behind the footlights, Messrs. Thode and Hills know the people and the life that they describe. They lived long among the miners and the ;cow punchers.’ It was the sight of C. M. Russell, the ‘cowboy artist,’ in a Montana saloon, surrounded by Indians that suggested the theme of the new play. The authors have placed the action in and around Helena, Mont. They have chosen a recent but picturesque period--the outbreak of the war with Spain.

“Mr. Fawcett, who was pleased especially with the correctness of the western life and characters, believes that the play would require merely a few technical changes for transformation into a possible Broadway success.”

15 December 2008

John L. Clarke's First Oil Painting

Real Oil Painting by Indian Louis W. Hill Discovers Red Man Artist in Glacier National Park.

[The talent of John L. Clarke, grandson of pioneer fur trader Malcolm Clarke and his Piegan Blackfeet wife, as a master wood-carver is well known. This story from the Daily Missoulian of 24 March 1912 is far less known.]

This is the unvarnished story of John Clark[e], a halfbreed Glacier park Indian. He never had seen a pot of oil paints, but he was a born artist and came into the light of things artistic with nature as his only teacher. Like all prodigies John, of course, remained to be discovered and the brush paints had to be furnished him before it really became known that he could reproduce in oils the marvelous scenic beauties which charmed him in his Rocky mountain environment.

Louis W. Hill is president of the Great Northern railway, but he lives his soul-life painting landscapes out in Uncle’s Sam’s mountain wonderland—Glacier national park.

One day, after traveling over the picturesque trails, Mr. Hill noticed his Indian guide sitting outside the Swiss chalet sketching with a stub lead pencil upon a rough board.

“What are you making, John?” he inquired, looking over the Indian’s shoulder.

“Huh, no make—just putting down what Great Spirit heap up hisself,” said John, intently adding the finishing touches to the outline of Two Medicine Falls, with the imposing mountain background, just as the eye sees it in the distance, looming up beyond the pretty waterfall, through the narrow vista which the fir-lined creek leaves open to the turbulent stream’s glacier source at the “top of the continent.”

“Superb!” exclaimed the amazed white critic, who had enjoyed the tutelage of some of the world’s most renowned scenic artists.

The red man was enthusiastically bombarded with a volley of eager questions concerning technique, etc. All of which was as Greek to the absorbed Indian sitting there using his lap for an easel. Simplified explanations of the white man only brought a mile over the bronze face. The Indian more astonished his admirer with the childlike statement that he liked the mountains and streams much, and just marked out the pictures of his eyes as a pastime.

Mr. Hill said no more to the guide because the fellow couldn’t talk art, but the artist-railway magnate did a lot of thinking that day, during the ride back over the trails to his private car at Midvale, Mont., the eastern gateway to park. Before leaving for St. Paul he again broached the subject to the redskin. John,” he said, “I’ll send you some paint and I want you to do that eye picture over for me on canvas.” The Indian looked rather puzzled, at first, but Mr. Hill finally made him understand just what he wanted. So, on returning to St. Paul, the railway chief ordered some paints, brushes and pieces of canvas about two and one-half by five feet sent to the nature artist up in the Rockies.

Just after Christmas Mr. Hill was busy at his desk pouring over matters pertaining to the operation of his great transcontinental railway when an express package was handed him. He unrolled it and was suddenly taken back to “God’s Own Country,” as he expressed it. There, before him, was Two Medicine falls and surroundings in the mountain fastness, clothed in all the radiance of its gorgeous, natural garb.

The original color painting, beautifully framed, now adorns a place in the costly art collection of at the Hill mansion on Summit avenue, St. Paul.

[Source: Missoulian Daily 24 Mar 1912, p. 12]

The Falls of the Missouri and The Birth of Great Falls


by Ken Robison

[Partially adapted from the writings of Martha Edgerton Rolfe, Great Falls’ first woman settler]


We take for granted and under appreciate the majesty of our river, the mighty Missouri River. Early pioneer residents knew they were at this unique place because of the river and its spectacular falls and giant springs. They proudly showed the falls, the springs, and the river to every visitor. Great Falls was the new “Niagara of the West,” the Cataract City.

From its founding in the spring of 1884, the town of Great Falls grew very slowly. The arrival of the St. Paul, Minneapolis & Manitoba Railway in 1887 (later to become the Great Northern Railroad), greatly accelerated the growth of the town as dams were built to supply power and smelters and refineries to provide jobs. The founding settlers of Great Falls came from every direction, with some from established communities of Fort Benton, Helena, and the Sun River valley. Other early settlers came from the Midwest, Canada, and the East, while many came across the Atlantic Ocean as immigrants to this new land.

The first woman settler in Great Falls was Mrs. Martha Edgerton Rolfe, daughter of Montana’s first territorial Governor, Sydney Edgerton, and wife of founder Paris Gibson’s surveyor and lawyer, Herbert P. (H. P.) Rolfe. This remarkable woman, Martha or “Mattie” Rolfe, wrote about the fledgling little city in articles carried in the important Montana News Association historical series as inserts for Montana’s weekly newspapers. These stories were written under Martha Edgerton Plassmann using the name of her second husband, Theodore Plassmann. In 1939 after Mattie’s death her daughter, Mrs. Edith Maxwell, assembled a tribute to the early settlers of Great Falls, based on her mother’s observations. This was published in Great Falls Yesterday under the Works Progress Administration (WPA) of the New Deal. This account is partially adapted from the various writings of Martha Edgerton Rolfe Plassmann.

The spot on which one day the city of Great Falls was to be located is a beautiful and picturesque place on the bend of the Missouri River just below its confluence with Sun River known by the native Indians as Medicine River, where the foot of Long Pool widens to form lake-like Broadwater Bay. It is just above Black Eagle Falls, the first of the series of magnificent falls that give the town its chief reason for being. The site lies on a gentle slope rising from the river bank to the plains east and south with a charming view of the valley of Sun River and the distant Rockies to the west. Tall bluffs on the north and west follow the course of the river except for a break formed by Sun River valley.

The banks of the Missouri were lined with cottonwood trees, willows, and small brush, and the land north of lower Central Avenue was a grassy marsh. There were innumerable springs bursting forth from the east and south slopes and on the bottom lands. White Bear Islands lay in Long Pool above the mouth of Sun River. Gravelly Prospect Hill, called Lookout Butte by the Blackfeet, was south, and north across the river was Indian Hill, later known as Smelter Hill, where stood a tepee sheltering an Indian lookout who watched the movements of the buffalo herds and was on the alert for the approach of an enemy.

Where the Missouri narrowed below Broadwater Bay to form rapids in its rock ledges, its course became shallow and was used by countless herds of buffalo as a ford. Down the river on its south bank was the Giant Springs remarkable for its beauty and volume of its flow, the largest freshwater spring in the United States. The mystery of its source was long undetermined, though it is now known that Giant Springs has probably existed since the last ice age. The springs are a terminal point of the Madison aquifer, which begins about 75 miles south in the Little Belt Mountains. Sulphur Spring on the north bank, across from where Belt creek enters the Missouri, was a favorite watering place for wild game, and Indians used its waters for their curative powers.

The most remarkable and interesting features of the place were, the five falls of the Missouri, in the order of their occurrence: Black Eagle, Colter’s, Rainbow, Crooked, and Great Falls. From time immemorial the river in this lonely spot had dashed over the precipices in clouds of foam and spray and presenting a spectacle of beauty and grandeur scarcely rivaled in nature.

It seems strange that this region, so attractive in appearance, lay so long untouched by white civilization; that no trading post or mission was planted there or that no small settlement grew beside the ford. The explanation may lie in the fact that it was far from the chief “highways” of pioneer days and did not form a link between any considerable centers of population. Soil and grass conditions were not as favorable close to the site as in valleys such as Teton, Chestnut, and upper Sun River. Hostile Indian tribes met in battle here on the trail to buffalo, which also may have deterred the missionary and the settler from locating at this place.

Where Great Falls is now, immense herds of buffalo in former times crossed the Missouri on their way from the high plains along the east front of the Rockies to their summer grazing grounds in the Judith Basin and the Musselshell valley and were in turn followed by the Blackfeet tribes which lived on the plains east of the Rockies, and the Salish, Kutenai, Nez Perce, and Pend d’Oreille tribes from the valleys west of the Rockies on their hunting expeditions. The fording place, where the Great Northern railway bridge crosses the river directly above the first rapids was the only shallow crossing for nearly 40 miles in either direction and was marked by deep-worn trails. The Gros Ventre and the Crow frequently came north to hunt the buffalo when they returned to the northern plains. It was inevitable that the region near the ford should be the scene of many bloody encounters between the hostile tribes which met here.

The Indian tribes far down the Missouri told Lewis and Clark of the falls, describing the cottonwood tree with the black eagle’s nest in it on the island below the uppermost falls. When their expedition reached the vicinity of the falls they portaged from the mouth of Belt Creek to a point opposite White Bear Islands above the present city where they made camp and celebrated the Fourth of July in 1805, the first ever commemorated in Montana. The Lewis and Clark portage route is now commemorated by the Great Falls Portage National Historic Landmark.

The expedition spent much time mapping and examining the surrounding country and the falls, and a number of mishaps and adventures took place during their stay. Sacagawea, the famed Indian woman, became dangerously ill while in camp at the mouth of Belt Creek, but found relief by drinking the water of the sulphur spring near the opposite shore of the Missouri. She, her husband, Charbonneau, and Captain Clark were exploring the banks of the Missouri just above Great Falls when they were overtaken by a terrific rain and hail storm. They took shelter under some shelving rocks when a wall of water rushed down it. Clark saw it in time to save himself and Sacagawea, burdened with her child, and with the help of the terrified Charbonneau brought them to safety, although the water was waist high before they could scramble up the steep side of the ravine. As it was they lost some articles of value. Clark’s compass was later recovered, but his umbrella which he must have cherished highly to have carried it on the long and arduous expedition was lost forever unless some future explorer unearths it from the mud at the bottom of the ravine or from the debris on the banks of the Missouri. The expedition attempted to construct a boat of skins stretched over an iron framework, but were compelled to give it up as a failure. White, or grizzly bears which abounded in the trees and brush of the river banks made hunting extremely hazardous, and several of the men, including Captain Lewis, narrowly escaped death in their encounters with the ferocious animals. The members of the expedition made two canoes from cottonwood logs, deposited the iron boat frame and a few other articles in a cache on a bluff near the islands, and set forth on their journey up the river.

A half century later, in 1854, Governor Isaac I. Stevens, while exploring this region for a practicable northern railroad route, examined the falls and their surroundings and described them in his painstaking reports. A member of the Stevens expedition, 1st Lieutenant John Mullan, was commissioned to build a military road from Fort Walla Walla to Fort Benton in 1858. He made a preliminary survey through the site of Great Falls for a route up the Missouri, but abandoned the project because of the difficulties of building through the Missouri canyon. In 1859-60, Lieut. Mullan completed construction of the Mullan Military Wagon Road linking Fort Benton to Walla Walla. The Mullan Road from Sun River Leaving to Fort Benton lay well north of the Great Falls area.

The military explorations of Captain William F. Raynolds in 1860 covered the upper Missouri region, but only touched upon the river at widely separated points. One of these was at the falls of the Missouri where he noted the black eagle and its nest in the tree on the island below the first of the series of falls and decided it must be the same which was described by Lewis and Clark.

The Northern Pacific railroad, advancing through North Dakota was ready in 1872 to extend its surveys from the base of the Rockies to Bismarck. Thomas P. Roberts, a member of its staff of engineers, was detailed to make a reconnaissance from Three Forks down the Missouri to Fort Benton to ascertain its capacity for navigation by light draught steamers. On July 27, 1872, the party set out in a 24-foot boat to map the course of the river, determine its flowage and take sounding for depth. Mr. Roberts writes interestingly of the noteworthy landscape features a number of which he and his party gave names. From Half Breed rapids to a mile below the mouth of Sun River, the Missouri passes over the flat bed of what was once an arm of Glacial Lake Great Falls, with a hardly perceptible current. This stretch of calm water with a channel depth of ten feet throughout, Mr. Robert’s party named Long Pool and considered it the most striking feature of the upper Missouri. The expedition reached the lower end of Long Pool on August 6th, remaining there for several days to await the arrival of a wagon and ox-team from Sun River to transport the equipment over the 20-mile portage. Instructions were to survey for a railroad around the falls if the upper river was navigable. The reconnaissance showed that light steamers could pass over it if wing dams were constructed to deepen the channel where islands divided the flow, and the boats were cordelled over Half Breed rapids. They surveyed a line for the projected railroad and made an examination of the falls. Roberts saw a large cottonwood tree with its top broken off on the island below Black Eagle Falls. “Among the branches still remaining is a black eagle’s nest. When I first approached the place, riding, and appearing on the bluff above it, an old eagle sailed out directly toward me and soared immediately over my head, so close that I became alarmed for the safety of my hat. After a moment’s survey it lighted on a jutting rock within a hundred feet of me, where it remained until one of the men coming up discharged a pistol at it before I could stop him. He missed the eagle. As I had a good opportunity to judge the age of this bird, his feathers being soiled, torn and otherwise old looking, I came to the conclusion that probably he was the same eagle, whose nest in the same position, on the same island, was seen by Lewis and Clark in 1805. . . The sight of this eagle was to me one of the most peculiarly pleasant incident of our reconnaissance.”

The incidents that led to the establishment of a city at this spot were told by Paris Gibson, its founder, in an article written in 1890: “In the spring of 1879, [when Paris Gibson resided in Fort Benton] while stopping at Fort Shaw for a few days, I saw for the first time a copy of Lewis and Clark’s expedition and noted with much surprise its description of the falls of the Missouri river.” Although Gibson resolved to visit the falls as soon as possible, it was not until the summer of 1881 that he, in company with H. P. Rolfe, explored the area of the falls of the Missouri. Gibson realized that Rolfe, the lawyer and surveyor, was the man he needed to lay out and help establish the city of his dreams, a ‘Minneapolis’ on the Missouri. In May 1882, Gibson and Rolfe made camp under a big cottonwood tree, just below the head of the rapids, and “devoted a few days to a careful exploration of this great water power, of which but little had hitherto been known. There were no settlers here at that time save one Lucus Caranza, who occupied a small cabin on the west side of the river, and who had evidently selected this place because it was one of the most solitary, out-of-the-way spots in this part of Montana.”

Paris Gibson had been an early settler of St. Anthony Falls, Minnesota, from which Minneapolis grew, establishing the first flour mill and later, a woolen mill. The panic of 1873 swept away his property and he came to Fort Benton, Montana in 1879 to rebuild his fortune in sheep ranching. He and his partner Henry McDonald, brought in one of the first bands of sheep in northern Montana. It is not difficult to understand why, as one of the first to use the water power developed at St. Anthony, Gibson’s imagination was immediately captured by the possibilities of the immense power which might be produced at the falls of the Missouri. In addition, although Gibson does not credit them, both John K. Castner founder of Belt and Robert Vaughn of Sun River promoted the possibilities of the area to him. Gibson continues his story, “I was so impressed with the belief that an important city could be built here that I decided at once to take steps to acquire the water power and the most important lands at the head of the falls for townsite purposes. It then became apparent that a man should be found with large resources and who at the same time was a believer in the possibilities of the far west.

“In looking over the field it occurred to me that James J. Hill was the man . . . As I had known Mr. Hill since we were young men, I immediately opened a correspondence with him as to the falls of the Missouri enterprise, which resulted in a meeting with him in St. Paul on November 25, 1882, only months after I first examined the falls [in detail].
“I had in the meantime secured nearly all the essential or vital points around the falls and at the head of the rapids. A notable feature of this meeting was that it did not occupy more than an hour, during which time Mr. Hill examined my maps and listened to my report as to the water power, coal, iron and other resources of the surrounding country.
“A short agreement was made in duplicate, in which our mutual relations to the enterprise were stated, and equipped with a large amount of land script I was, after a few hours, on my way back to Montana. Doubtless my ability to acquire a large tract of land in a solid body at the falls of the Missouri was due largely to Mr. Hill’s prompt action at the time, as it enabled me to survey and locate the most desirable tracts before our plans were known to the public . . . Mr. Vaughn and surveyor Rolfe were the only persons in Montana besides myself who at the time knew for what purposes these land entries were being made.”

When Gibson first saw the future site of Great Falls, Lucas Caranza, or Conance, as it is spelled in the land office records, was the sole resident. There was, however, a lumber yard, with George Wood in charge, established by A. M. Holter & Bro. in 1881 on the west bank of the Missouri directly below the mouth of Sun River. The company had a sawmill at Stickney Creek and rafted the lumber down the Missouri to the Sun River yard which was to serve the needs of Fort Benton and the settlers in the surrounding country. They took a section of desert land extending from Sun river down the west and north bank of the Missouri for two miles, but failed to get water on it so let it go by default.

Other settlers had come and gone. Robert S. Ford had taken a claim about a mile west of the Missouri and north of Sun River, and Colonel Broadwater had had a claim near Ford’s in 1872 close to the junction of the two rivers, but neither made final proof. In 1879 Wyllys A. Hedges made an entry on the land relinquished by Broadwater and had acquired title to it on November 20, 1880, the first homestead in the later limits of Great Falls. Robert P. Walker took up a desert claim on the west side in 1880, obtaining title to 160 acres of it as a homestead 20 June, 1884.

In August of 1882 Paris Gibson, with Sidney Edgerton, Charles Gibson and H. P. Rolfe made final selection of the site and made a preliminary survey of the town preparatory to placing script on it and in the winter, after Gibson had formed a partnership with J. J. Hill, it was secured by soldiers’ script and additional land was filed on.

Among those who settled on land included in the townsite in 1882 were Charles Gibson, Frank Pottle, James Kelly, Tim Collins, George B. Rivers, David Wallace and Lucas Conance. Most of the land was taken as timber claims although they were entirely destitute of trees, the remainder represented homestead entries and desert claims. On January 23, 1883, the greater number of these claims were relinquished by the settlers and obtained by Hill and Gibson by the use of soldiers’ script. Through an act of Congress, veterans of the Civil War could secure additional homestead lands and were not required to live on them. It was a common practice of land speculators to buy up this script to gain possession of large tracts of land along railroads. It is probable that “Red Mike” Hendrickson, Pat Hughes, John Woods and John Hackshaw, whose names do not appear in the land office records but who were among the earliest settlers, held as squatters, without giving notice of entry, the land they settled on for Gibson until he had the script to secure it.

Title to government lands could be gained in several ways. A timber claim must be located in forest land; a homestead required residence and planting a specified number of acres to crops; a tree claim, that water must be brought on the land by a ditch. A squatter was one who settled on new or unsurveyed lands which entitled him to certain rights as a locator.

In July-August 1883 H. P. Rolfe led a team on the ground again to make the final surveys. The survey team included Rolfe as chief engineer and leader of the expedition, Frank Potter, John Woods, James Mattson, David Archer, and cook Norman Jones. In the words of David Archer:

“We left Fort Benton with a team and wagon loaded with all the necessities of making a prolonged camp, including a large tent and a small row boat. We followed the old freight road that went to Helena and Virginia City and which I had been over fifteen years ago. When we got to our destination, we were on the west side of the Missouri River. We put hobbles on the horses and left them and the wagon on that side of the river and took everything except a couple of sacks of oats, across the river in the boat and on a raft, that we made. We could look across the river, most anytime while we were working, and see that the horses were all right, as the whole area was flat and covered with Buffalo grass. We would row across the river, each evening and give the horses a feed of oats so they would stay around the wagon.
“There was not a building, of any kind, where the City of Great Falls stands today. There was, however, one small log cabin near the Giant Springs but this area was not included in the original townsite. It was my job to drive the stakes and I drove a numbered stake at every corner of every block in the original townsite. We were about equally divided in our opinions as to the future of Great Falls. Personally, I could not see that it would ever have a chance to amount to anything and based my reasoning upon the fact that there were no railroads and the big falls would prevent the steamboats from ever coming any closer than Fort Benton, so it looked to me that if there was to be a city it would have to be Fort Benton. Anyway I was only here for what wages I could earn and did not have any money to invest in city lots.
We found rattlesnakes to be very plentiful here and all of us had many close calls of being bitten. I killed twenty four of them, during the six weeks that we were on that job.”

Johnstown was a hopeful settlement on the west side, later the site of the Great Northern roundhouse, consisting of a stopping place and a barn. This place was named for John Largent, the well-known pioneer, and was conducted by E. B. Largent. C. N. Dickinson, who paid his first visit to Great Falls in the summer of 1883, found Rolfe’s camp on the south bank of the Missouri (later the site of Black Eagle Park and now Memorial or Centene Stadium), and the crew surveying at Giant Springs. George Chichester came this spring and took up a ranch on the site of the Ayrshire Dairy. The nearest post office was Ulidia, an evanescent village across the river from today’s Cascade, and the postmaster journeyed to it once a week to bring the mail to the people at Great Falls.

Johnny Wood built a log cabin on Tenth avenue south in the autumn of 1883, and in the next spring the fledgling townsite of Great Falls began with Fort Benton carpenter Josiah Peeper building a small 14 x 20 feet fir log cabin at the corner of Fifth Avenue and Fifth Street [later 500 Fifth Avenue South]. This cabin was the first permanent residence built in the new townsite of Great Falls. Today, this little cabin has survived the years, fires, demolition permits and is known as the Vinegar Jones Cabin. The city’s first residence now stands in a place of honor in Gibson Park.

In May, 1884, H. P. Rolfe brought his family from Fort Benton to move onto their pre-emption claim, in what is now known as the ‘Rolfe Addition.’ Mrs. Martha Edgerton Rolfe described their life in the fledgling town:

“Our [claim] shack stood near the intersection of Twenty-sixth street and Third avenue south. It was an unsightly structure, built of rough boards, sides and roof covered with tar paper, giving it a funereal appearance. Its situation in part atoned for the shack’s deficiencies, as it commanded an extensive view, from the Highwoods in the east, to the curve of the Belt mountains, to the far-away Rockies, shutting off the head of the verdant Sun river valley in the west. The only disfiguring feature in the landscape was constituted by the few small, board shacks, glaringly yellow in the bright sunshine, where dwelt a few homesteaders on part of the present city’s site. All of these were men, and none had their families with them, the majority being bachelors. . . .
“To cross the river, a crude ferry was provided at the upper end of Broadwater bay. There was also said to be a ford somewhere near the bridge, but I never saw anyone attempt its passage, although at low water, this might have been feasible.
“Most of the supplies for the pioneers of Great Falls, came from Helena or Fort Benton, and were brought by wagons when ordered by individuals. There being no place to store them, and no ice for their preservation during the hot summer months, but small amounts were kept on hand. Careful planning was required on the part of Great Falls’ sole housewife to avoid a famine, neighborly borrowing being out of the question.
“Fresh meat was rarely obtainable and then only when a small amount was brought in for sale by Chris Dickinson. Bacon and ham were the stand-bys, and for vegetables, potatoes now and then. I do not remember seeing any fresh fruit that season, but dried fruit took its place.
“There were no wells or springs, with the exception of Huy’s spring, a small brackish pool west of us and some distance away. All water was brought in barrels from this spring, and had to be used sparingly. It was unfit to drink, but we drank it, notwithstanding.
“The road leading to Belt and the Highwoods was about were Second avenue south is now, and was not far from our house. Our lamp, after nightfall, served as a beacon light for the belated travelers over this highway, for which they often expressed themselves as being grateful. Roads were not so good then as now, and in the shadows cast by twilight or moonlight were deceptive. It was difficult to tell whether one was driving on comparatively level ground, or if the next revolution of the carriage wheels would lead to a drop of several feet; and over a stretch of prairie it was hard to steer one’s course, after twilight or darkness obliterated all landmarks.
“The wildness then of the country about Great Falls may be judged when it is known that a small herd of antelope passed our house almost every evening, on their way to drink at Huy’s spring. Once, when we were at dinner, an antelope stationed himself not a stone’s throw from our window, and watched us curiously as we do the animals at a zoological park. He did not seem in the least frightened, but examined us at leisure before joining the rest of the herd.
“I had brought some fine Plymouth Rock chickens from my former home at Fort Benton. They were of frying size, and we expected them to furnish a welcome addition to our limited food supply. Alas for our expectations! At midday a coyote trotted over the hill from Boston Heights, and slaughtered them right and left before we put it to flight.
“Our shack was lined with sheeting in the laudable effort to render it more presentable. A pack rat approving of it, established himself behind the sheeting. There it raced up the sides and overhead, making a tremendous racket that was not conducive to slumber. It became a general nuisance until--yes--and after a dose of strychnine had ended its life. We found it when it made its presence evident, this time silently, behind the lining of our dining room.
“Mosquitoes swarmed to such an extent that we were forced to fight them day and night, and men wore nets over their heads, and gauntlets on their hands while working.
“Rattlesnakes abounded. None came into the house, but they were plentiful without. Other varieties of snakes were numerous, and there one summer’s day, I first saw a blue racer. For an instant it shone like a jewel in the grass, then vanished. I do not like snakes, but that one excited my admiration. It was beautiful.
“In July came terrible hail and thunder storms. The hail cut the tar paper roofing, and the sun when it came out, completed the business of melting the ice, and continuing the shower within the house, when outside the storm had ceased.
“There was no monotony in this kind of life, but it was lonesome with no other woman within many miles until my cousin, Miss Sarepta Sanders came to file on a claim beyond the townsite. Our family consisted beside my husband and myself, of a young girl [Lelia Rolfe], a niece of Mr. Rolfe, who later became Mrs. Silas Beachly, and our four children [Mary Pauline, Harriet Louise, Helen Marston, and Lucia Ione], the youngest but three months old.
“All that summer the surveyors were at work. streets and avenues were defined, although invisible to all others. Stones marked their beginning, and it was edifying to be told, when riding along a grassy expanse, with not a vestige of wheel tracks, or even a path, unless one made by buffalo, ‘This is Second Avenue North and (consulting a map) oh, yes, Second Avenue North and Eighth street.’ We tried verily to see it, but couldn’t although we seemed impressed.
“By this time, it was common knowledge throughout the state that it was proposed to build a city that would bear the name of Great Falls, and the news was met with an almost universal shout of derision. ‘What is there to make a city at that point?’ it was asked. ‘The coal mines of Belt, or the silver mines of Neihart? They are too far away. As for agriculture, in that vicinity, there is but little and the cattle men do their trading at Helena or Fort Benton.’ But what the pioneers of Great Falls lacked in numbers, they more than made up in faith. Not for one instant did they permit themselves to doubt they were laying the foundation for a great city. Most of them were men of education, and endowed with imagination, which was surely needed in this instance.
Mattie Rolfe concluded her account: “Picture if you can, the broad sweep of country lying between the bend of the Missouri and the hills to the south, and extending to the upland where lies Boston Heights, this covered with high grass, and with no trace of human habitation save a few board shacks, and you can readily understand the residents of other towns regarding the Great Falls proposition as a colossal joke.”

C. N. Dickinson’s tent and two Townsite company’s tents were erected close to the old ford near today’s Mitchell Pool. These signs of progress added to the illusion of a city and must have impressed empire-builder James J. Hill with the scope of the enterprise when he came in June of 1884 to look his investment over. He stayed but one day but that was sufficient for him to inspect the falls, Giant Springs, and the coal prospects at Sand Coulee. Coal was a vital necessity to the railroad he planned across Montana which otherwise would be compelled to haul supplies of it for great distances. The great beds of good, bituminous steam coal at Sand Coulee doubtless did more than anything, except the potential water power of the falls, to induce Hill to build his rail line to Great Falls. When he left he gave assurance of this, and the town began to develop in earnest. Although Paris Gibson believed what Hill saw at Great Falls that day was the beginning of his plan for a transcontinental railroad, but it is a matter of record that Hill earlier had that in mind when the Manitoba railroad was organized, and planned at that time to ask Congress for half the Northern Pacific land grant to the Rocky Mountains.

Other cities of Montana had their beginnings in the turbulence of the gold discoveries or as stopping places on the trail from one mining camp to another. Some became ghost towns, while others found new sources of mineral wealth, or developed with the settlement of agricultural lands and the advent of the railroads, and achieved a certain orderliness. All started as a huddle of cabins beside the trail or close to the diggings, their streets mere paths which following the lines of convenience.

This was not so with Great Falls. Wide streets arranged in gridiron fashion, expansive grounds for parks, the railroad right-of-way and yards were all platted before a building was erected. those who came in the town’s infancy intended to make their homes here and shared with its founder a great faith in its future. The early residents were of a type unusual to western towns, a large proportion being young people of education, of business and professional classes, who set high standards for the embryo city which never failed to amaze the eastern visitor who expected to find a village of uncouth frontiersmen. The geology, botany, ornithology, agricultural and stock-raising potentialities, the history and scenic values of the surrounding country were studied by men trained in the sciences who proclaimed their discoveries to the world as well as to their fellow citizens. Everyone was informed as to the advantages of living in so remarkably endowed a city. Small wonder that the neighboring towns were envious, yet skeptical, grown weary of its boasting, and were inclined to scoff at its pretensions, dubbing it “The Future Great” and The City of Wind, Water, and Future.” Unlike many boom towns, however, its boasting was justified and time would prove that many of its most extravagant dreams would become true.

The year 1884 saw other limited building, board shanties being the prevailing type of architecture. George E. Huy’s shack followed Rolfe’s, then the Townsite company built an office opposite the site of the Park Hotel, and Walker and Carter opened a restaurant built of boards and canvas. Ira Myers brought a portable sawmill and commenced operations at the present location of the city water works. On October 22nd Murphy & Maclay opened a store, built by Whitman G. Jones, with W. P. Wren in charge.

Mrs. W. P. Beachly, who came with her husband on July 18th, noted there were only two other women here at that time, Mrs. Rolfe, who came in May and Mrs. William Wamer, proprietress of a lodging and boarding house constructed of boards and canvas at the corner of Third Avenue and Third Street South. The Wamers put a roof on a shed to provide sleeping quarters for the Beachlys.

In the spring a raft of lumber from Holter’s mill went over the falls and was lost. The water being very high and swift, the men in charge could not stop it when it reached the Sun River yard. The horses and wagon were shoved overboard and saved, and the men managed to swim ashore.

Across the river the rival town of Johnstown began to loom up. A store and restaurant were added to its facilities and a regular stage service began with service to Sun River, the “jerky” coming through every other day. Soon Johnstown acquired the first post office.

Great Falls became a voting precinct of Choteau County, and the first election was held in the fall with H. O. Chowen, George E. Huy and James Walker as judges. John Higgins, son of Mr. and Mrs H. H. Higgins, was the first child born in the fledgling town in 1884. By winter the population was down considerably from the high during the year of about 150, as the H. P. Rolfe and others took their families back to Fort Benton or Helena for the hard winter.

The following year, 1885, there were signs indicating the permanence of the town. In January the citizens of Great Falls petitioned the county authorities at Fort Benton for a division of Great Falls school district to form a new district at at the townsite stating there were 17 children of school age in the town. Professor O. C. Mortson and Major Fields drove the 50 miles to Fort Benton from Sand Coulee, then a settlement of ranchers on Sand Coulee Creek below Gerber, to protest the division. They held that while the district as a whole could support two schools the population of Great Falls was too small to provide revenue sufficient to build a school house and support a school. Despite the opposition division was effected, and Great Falls became school district No. 9. A log school house was built during 1885 and stood for many years at the corner of Third Avenue and Fifth Street South. Rev. James Largent served as teacher, and there was an average attendance of 40 children after the school opened in the fall of 1885. The first trustees were Paris Gibson, H. P. Rolfe, and J. T. Lee, while Silas Beachly was clerk.

Whitman G. Jones, the contractor, began construction of the first flour mill in the fall of 1884 for Chowen and Jamiston on the river bank just south of the east end of the old wagon bridge on First Avenue North. Ed Canary built the foundation, and Charles Remp, George Armstrong, Norman M. Jones, and John Amons were employed in the construction. A grand ball was given on March 17, 1885, to dedicate the mill. The building had a roof, but the glass for the windows had not arrived so burlap was tacked across the window frames to keep out the cold. The rough floor was covered with canvas for dancing. Vade Hull of Sun River brought an orchestra composed of soldiers from Fort Shaw to provide the music. There was a large crowd despite the cold weather, with many coming from Sand Coulee and Sun River, and they danced until broad daylight to celebrate Great Falls’ first ball. When the flour mill was completed that fall, machinery was bought in from Minneapolis, shipped by train to Helena and transported to Great Falls by freight wagons.

Will Hanks, publisher of the Sun newspaper at Sun River, moved his plant to Great Falls and began publication of the Weekly Tribune, the first newspaper on May 14th, 1885. Its columns were filled with informative articles boosting Great Falls and the resources of the region. In the winter of 1885-86 the Holter company in association with others put a ferry across the Missouri to meet the needs of increased traffic.

A large crowd assembled at the school house on Christmas night to witness the distribution of presents from the Christmas tree among the little ones. The popular verdict was that it was a success in every way with about 50 children present. The day was perfect, bright and warm, and among the adornments of the school house were pansies that had been gathered that morning from the only bed in town. The school room was tastefully decorated and the Christmas tree, with its weight of presents, glistened and sparkled in the light of numerous wax candles. The exercises performed by the Sunday school scholars were excellent. The vocal music rendered by Mr. and Mrs. Will Junkins was highly appreciated by all present. Old Kris Kringle in the person of Professor O. C. Mortson, was alike the delight and fright of the little ones, but his impartiality in the distribution of the presents among them soon dispelled their fears, and all went “merry as a marriage bell.” Among those who participated were Rev. Largent, Philip Gibson, W. I. Hickory, S. A. Beachly, Albert J. Huy, Mrs. Largent, Mrs. Pratt, Mrs. Ladd, and Mr. and Mrs. W. F. Junkins.

During the winter of 1885-86, news came that a railroad line, the Montana Central, was being surveyed from Helena through Prickly Pear canyon and that it was a subsidiary of the St. Paul, Minneapolis & Manitoba Railway Company. The Northern Pacific, its competitor, had already looked over northern Montana as a field for future expansion, and it was necessary for Hill and his associates to move quickly to secure this route which was essential to their projected transcontinental railroad. Colonel Dodge, their representative, had selected the route and the work of surveying and construction under Colonel C. A. Broadwater was rushed. Meanwhile Hill had secured a right of way across the great Indian reservation, which occupied all of northern Montana east of the Rockies, and was perfecting his plans for the extension of the Manitoba to Great Falls.

In April, 1886, A. Nathan established a men’s clothing store on Central Avenue between Park Drive and Second Street near the Townsite company building. E. Rubottom opened a paint shop and store, later known as the Como, and William Albrecht built a furniture store that continued in its original location, 111 Central Avenue, into the 1940s. During the summer of 1886, Edward Simms came from Sun River with his new bride Elizabeth, the first black Americans to settle in Great Falls.

Ben and Alex Lapeyre’s drugstore, then in a building two doors east of Beachly’s store, celebrated Independence Day by opening its doors to the public. The first prescription they filled was written by Dr. J. H. Fairfield and was for an ointment to treat the burns incurred that day by a youthful celebrant, Herman Nebel, who was Great Falls’ first newsboy. Other events of the day were the races held on the river bank west of the present Milwaukee station, the dance given at the Park Hotel in honor of its opening, and the flag raised before the hotel that had been sewed on the first sewing machine in town.

Keen interest was aroused in 1887 in a proposed new county of Cascade to be formed from portions of Choteau, Meagher, and Lewis and Clark counties. The population of Great Falls reached 1,200 at the beginning of the year, and the town initiated a movement to make it the county seat. The bill was presented at an extraordinary session of the Montana legislature convened by Governor Leslie. The measure met with considerable opposition from residents of Sun River and the towns of Fort Benton and Helena, but it passed. The first Cascade County officers, whose terms began December 19, 1887, were: commissioners, Charles Wegner, J. A. Harris, T. A. Wall; sheriff, George Steele; treasurer, Arthur E. Dickerman; county clerk and recorder, James W. Matkin; probate judge, H. P. Rolfe; assessor, Richard T. Gorham; county attorney, George W. Taylor; superintendent of public instruction, Bessie Ford; coroner, J. H. Fairfield; public administrator, J. W. Stanton. The county offices were in the Minot block at 203 Central Avenue. T. W. Wall failed to qualify as county commissioner and E. R. Clingan, a businessman of Belt, was appointed to fill his place.

The St. Paul, Minneapolis and Manitoba Railway Company, which since the latter part of April had been pushing its extension westward from Minot, North Dakota, reached Great Falls on October 15th in record-breaking time. The event, so long awaited, was celebrated in fitting style with a parade depicting the trades and industry of Great Falls and Sand Coulee, sports including a boat race, sparking oratory, fireworks on Prospect Hill, and ending with a grand ball and supper. The depot was a railroad car set on the prairie near the present fair grounds. The railroad approached it by the high bench north of town through Wild Horse Lake rounding the bluff known now as Hill 57, but then jocularly christened “Jim Hill.”

This momentous development in the history of Great Falls was described in The Leader forty years later as follows:

“Forty years ago today, Oct. 15, 1887, a Great Northern engine, approximately one-third the tonnage of the oil burning locomotives now used, puffed importantly to a stop across the river from the present depot. It tugged a number of old fashioned passenger cars, bearing railway officials and important personages from the east. The train was the first regular one to come to Great Falls from St. Paul.
Every person of the 3,500 population of this city turned out to give a grand welcome to the first train. Numbers crossed the Missouri by means of the ferry boat then used. The first wagon bridge was not built until the following year.
With headquarters at the old Park hotel, a frame structure just completed and standing where the present Park hotel is now located, a group of business men planned the first gigantic celebration ever held in this city. ‘Jerries’ who had helped build the road vied with citizens for places in the ‘big parade,’ and the surprise of the day came when a number of horse drawn floats commemorating the coming of the railroad took their places at the head of the parade.
Indians, cowboys, gamblers, prospectors and many visitors from Helena and other towns, who had come here by saddle horse and buggy, continued the celebration far into the night. Six-guns boomed as celebrators ‘fanned’ their hammers. Officials and citizens made speeches.
The next day the railroaders were back at work laying track on the Montana Central grade to Helena, which had been built the year before. Work was done as quickly as possible. It was all labor and team work. The end of rail was laid in Helena on Nov. 19, 1867. Jim Hill came to Great Falls and stopped long enough to present a special train to the citizens of this city that they might attend the ‘coming of the railroad’ celebration in Helena.
Actual track construction of the line to Great Falls and Helena began at Minot, N. D., nearly 642 miles from Helena. The Great Northern was then known as the St. Paul, Minneapolis and Manitoba railway. Workers laid an average of 3.19 miles of track a day, 3,300 teams and 8,000 men worked on the grading, while 325 teams and 650 men handled the track laying.”

The Montana Central effected a junction with the Manitoba here when the railroad bridge was built across Sun River, and was competed to Helena on November 19th after overcoming a difficulty in crossing the Northern Pacific tracks there; the two railroads not viewing the matter eye-to-eye. Work immediately began on the branch line to Sand Coulee to make available its coal supplies for the railroad, and on the railroad bridge across the Missouri which would unite the lines.

A toll wagon bridge, a subsidiary enterprise of the Hill interests, as indeed were most of Great Falls’ early industries, was begun late in 1887. Two flat boats loaded with cement and tools for the bridge left Townsend about the first of October, negotiated Half Breed rapids without great difficulty but encountered trouble in the shallow steam channel near Ulm.

During the delay the men were employed in quarrying rock at that place for the bridge piers. Earlier in the year Nicholas Hilger’s steamer, “Rose of Helena,” made several trips from the upper end of the Gates of the Mountains to Great Falls at the rate of twelve miles an hour downstream and four miles an hour upstream.

The coming of the Manitoba greatly reduced stage traffic and routes but brought one important line into existence, that extending from Great Falls to Billings by way of Lewistown which tapped the rich Judith Basin territory. This line was operated by the Montana Stage company with Ed E. Corbin as superintendent.

Sandstone quarries at Fields and Ulm producing excellent building stone, a new Goodrich lumber yard, Holter’s lumber yard and newly established planing mill, Myer’s planing mill, and five brickyards supplied building materials for the rapidly growing town.

The Presbyterian Church, organized the preceding year with 13 charter members including Mr. and Mrs. W. P. Beachly, M. and Mrs. W. F. Junkin, Mr. and Mrs. James A. Walker, Frank Gehring, and John D. Ross, erected the first church building in Great Falls in 1887 at the southeast corner of First Avenue and Seventh Street South with Rev. John Reid, Jr., as pastor.

A water supply system was inaugurated under the management of Manery and Peiper, its mechanical equipment consisting of barrels hauled by wagons and a pail fastened to a long pole to dip water from the Missouri. A volunteer fire company, formed in January, 1888, pressed into service the water wagons as the need arose. The wagon first to reach the scene of the fire received a prize of $5 which gave color and zest to the performance.

Dunlap’s store, the first to sell groceries exclusively, located at Third Avenue and Second Street South; Kenkel’s shoe store; the Cascade Stables build by A. W. Paul; the Cascade Laundry at 117 First Avenue North, S. R. Jensen and F. G. Johnson, proprietors, were new commercial establishments. Sidewalks made their first appearance extending with but few breaks for a block or so on each side of Central Avenue’s business district.

On June 16, 1888, The Great Falls Leader began operations as a weekly newspaper. Under manager and editor H. P. Rolfe, Great Falls now had a Republican newspaper strongly advocating woman’s suffrage and political and social equality for black residents and other Republican principles. By October 21, The Leader had grown to a morning daily and for many years Great Falls had dueling newspaper editorials with the Democrat Tribune representing the interests of Paris Gibson and the Townsite Company and the Republican Leader. Upon the untimely death of Rolfe in March 1895 of typhoid fever, Mrs. Martha Edgerton Rolfe became the first woman editor of a daily newspaper in Montana.

Great Falls was incorporated as a second class city October 4, 1888. Paris Gibson was the first mayor and the council chambers were in the Minot block. The town acquired a jail, Episcopal and Methodist churches, the Milwaukee Hotel, some substantial business blocks among them being the Dunn, Phelps, Kingsbury and Collins blocks, and a fine brick school building, the Whittier, at the northeast corner of Third Avenue and Eighth Street North. Some residents felt the school board had erred in placing it so far from the settled districts of the city.

The Montana Smelting and Refining Company began the construction of a silver-lead smelter, under the management of H. W. Child, near Giant Springs in March 1889 and started operations in October. Brick from Great Falls and Helena was used in its construction. Coke from Pennsylvania, charcoal from Wolf Creek, and coal from Sand Coulee were used as fuel and provision was made for the future use of water power. The water supply was brought by ditch from Giant Springs. Silver-lead ores from Neihart and Barker formed the bulk of those treated and were supplemented by ores from Coeur d’Alene and British Columbia mining districts. J. L. Neihart, of his name-sake town, brought the first load of ore to be reduced in the smelter. There was fierce competition with the silver smelter at East Helena, belonging to the Helena and Livingston Smelting and Refining Company, which caused both companies to lose money. In 1891 the two companies consolidated under the name of the United Smelter and Refining company. The bullion, an alloy of gold, silver, and lead was sent to the company’s plant at South Chicago, Illinois, for refining. The smelter at Great Falls closed in 1899 when the properties passed into the hands of the American Smelting and Refining Company. Nothing remains today of the plant, the attractive offices or residences, which once made it a show place.

T E. Collins, Ira Myers and E. G. Maclay received a franchise for a water system in 1889, sold later to the Great Falls Water Company. The company immediately began the construction of a plant and built seven miles of mains and about 70 hydrants. It was re-organized under the Great Falls Water Power and Townsite Company which had, in 1890, built a dam at Black Eagle Falls and leased 6,000 horsepower generated by the new dam to the Boston and Montana Smelter. They enlarged and improved the works, increasing the capacity to 11,000,000 gallons per day. The plant was sold to the city in 1898.

In 1889 Thomas Couch, general manager of the Boston & Montana Consolidated Copper and Silver Mining Company with important mining interests at Butte, selected Great Falls as the site for a new reduction works. The inducements were the abundance of water and cheap water power, as well as the proximity of the Belt and Sand Coulee coal mines. The construction of the smelting works started in early 1890 and treatment of the company’s ores began at this plant in March. A refinery was added in 1892 to produce copper in commercial form. In 1910 the plant became the property of the Anaconda Copper Mining Company.

The Boston and Great Falls Electric Light and Power Company, organized in 1890, was the first to use the power from Black Eagle Falls for city lighting and street railway purposes.

In 1890 an African Methodist Episcopal (A. M. E.) Church congregation was organized, and in July 1891, an A. M. E. Church opened at 916 Fifth Avenue South with Rev. J. H. Childress, as pastor and Ed Simms, A. W. Ray, and William M. Morgan, as trustees. Ray and Morgan has served with the 25th Infantry Regiment “Buffalo Soldiers” at Fort Shaw before coming to Great Falls. This black church was rebuilt at the same location in 1917 and is now on the National Register of Historic Places.

Black residents were segregated in the lower Southside of the city, could not join labor unions, and were restricted from many jobs. Despite this, with the support of the Republican Party, blacks progressed in several remarkable ways. In 1892 a young black, former buffalo soldier George Williams, was named one of four members of the Great Falls police force. Two years later, A. M. E. Church trustee William M. Morgan, was nominated by the Republican Party as one of two Great Falls Township Constables. In November 1894, Morgan went to bed after working that day as janitor at the Cascade County Courthouse and woke the next morning to learn that he had been elected Constable.

In 1891 the Belt Mountain branch of the Montana Central was extended to Neihart and Barker, and the Great Falls and Canada branch of the Manitoba, a narrow gauge line, was built to Lethbridge to tap its coal fields and to connect with the Canadian Pacific, and a short line was extended to the Boston & Montana Smelter.

Businesses that located in Great Falls in 1890 were: P. J. Rogan’ grocery store on Fifth Avenue South between Fifth and Sixth Streets; the Hub established by Andrew Thisted and T. W. Brosman; Troy Steam Laundry; Hammond Lumber Company, at Ninth Avenue North and Tenth Street; and the Great Falls Iron Works, under the management of L. S. Woodbury, at Eighth Avenue and Third Street North. In 1892 Kenneth B. McIver started the Jersey Dairy on his ranch six miles west of town; A. P. Curtin open a furniture store in the McKnight block, managed by D. R. Edwards; and Gust G. Minter opened a tin shop. The Paris Dry Goods store and the Royal Milling Company, connected with the Washburn-Crosby Company of Minneapolis and managed by W. M. Atkinson, were founded in 1893.

Great Falls had many community activities in the early nineties. The Northern Montana Fair Association had a race-track on the west side. Other sports were represented by tennis, cricket, bicycle, and baseball clubs, and the Minneshosho Boat Club. The Board of Trade was the forerunner of the Chamber of Commerce, and a Mining and Immigration Association organized to bring most of the early foreign workers to the city. Labor organizations were strong, and wages were good for the times.

Culturally and socially, Great Falls showed advancement. The Grand Opera House was formally opened on January 4, 1892, by McKoe Rankin and company with the performance of “The Canuck.” The Valeria Public Library, named after Paris Gibson’s wife and opened in 1886, was turned over to the city in 1892 with Miss Wightman (Mrs. H. P. Brown), as librarian. Excellent school facilities kept pace with the city’s grown. By 1893 there were six school buildings and a high school building was under construction. The first high school class graduated that year with four graduates: Gertrude Anderson; Lula Armstrong; Maud McNeil; and Josephine Trigg. Ten churches were operating by 1893 and two hospitals, one, the Columbus Hospital, in the Boston & Montana addition and the other, the Great Falls Hospital, on Central Avenue at 33rd Street. Secret societies flourished as well as social clubs like the Caledonian, Rainbow, and University clubs. Women’s interests were represented by church societies, the Women’s Christian Temperance Union, and several literary study groups. The Woman’s Suffrage movement was centered in the Political Equality Club, which with other suffrage clubs in the state made a strong fight to secure passage of a woman’s suffrage bill in the legislature in 1894, but were defeated. The state society of the Sons of the American Revolution was organized at Great Falls on February 22, 1895, and selected Judge C. H. Benton of Great Falls as president. A Free Silver Club formed at the same time and became active in promoting one of Montana’s foremost minerals.

Great Falls was never a frontier town in the same sense that Helena and Butter had been, yet it met with economic reverses as serious and overcame them with the indomitable courage deeply-rooted in the pioneer communities of the West. In common with all the rapidly expanding West the panic of 1893 was a serious blow to the town which had not developed its resources on a self-sustaining basis and was largely dependent on Eastern capital. Its fortunes reached a low point in 1895. The fall in the price of silver had greatly curtailed the mining and milling operations in Neihart, Barker, and Great Falls with a consequent reduction in their payrolls. The nation-wide railroad strike of 1894 severely injured the community so dependent on that industry. Wool reached its lowest price since the industry was established in Montana. Banks closed, businesses failed and private fortunes which had been amassed in the few short years since the founding of Great Falls vanished at a stroke. Great Falls received its first great set-back.

In the same spirit that they had dealt with problems in founding the city, its early settlers made the best of the existing situation and turned their attention to building a foundation for the future. To develop the land resources of the surrounding country, an agricultural society was formed on January 5, 1895. Discussed at the initial meeting were the irrigation of arid lands, the improvement of beef and dairy strains, the need for a local cheese factory and creamery, the planting of hard wheat for flour mills and barley to supply the breweries in place of the oats and soft wheat which were at that time the chief grains produced in the region. It was emphasized that 30,000 pounds of butter and great quantities of eggs, potatoes and other commodities were shipped in from Minnesota and North Dakota, amounting to half a million dollars a year to supply Great Falls. An effort was made to move the Montana State Fair from Helena to Great Falls, and failing this, plans were made for a county fair in October. The street railway company’s car barns, pavilion, and lighting facilities were used, and the the first Cascade County Fair was a success.

Cattle from northern Montana topped the Chicago market and brought the highest price in four years. The Burlington Railroad, then building its extension westward, was expected to come by way of Great Falls up the Sun River valley and over Cadotte’s Pass before the year ended. J. T. Armington of Great Falls and S. S. Hobson of Utica began constructing a telephone line from Great Falls to Lewistown, and Ira Myers applied for a franchise to build a city system that would provide service at half the rates of the Bell Telephone Company. Coke from the Belt ovens was tested in the Anaconda Smelter and found satisfactory which meant the assurance of another industry in addition to the territory tributary to Great Falls. The Boston & Montana Smelter began work on the addition of a large refinery to its plant in Black Eagle. The federal government appropriated $20,000 to build wing-dams on the Missouri River above Great Falls to deepen the channel for navigation purposes. A recurring dream since the settlement of Montana Territory had been to solve the problem of transportation through the mountain barriers between eastern and western Montana by a waterway on the Upper Missouri from Townsend to the mouth of the Sun River, and this was the final effort in that enterprise. The work, begun in April, furnished employment for forty to fifty men. Dams were constructed at Wicker’s Island, at White Bear Island, and at Fox’s Island half a mile above White Bear Island. Another wing-dam was built above the first great bend of the river to deepen the stream at that place.

The year 1895 marked the close of the first chapter in Great Falls’ history; her infancy was past. There were many indications that a new era was dawning. The encroachment of sheep and homestead farming spelled the doom of large open range cattle ranching. Ranchers that did not cease operations altogether were restricted to privately owned or leased land and to raising hay to replace the open free grazing. The railroads brought an influx of settlers to homestead “free” land suitable to farming. The homestead era began.

A little thing signifying that the old order had changed was that in that year the copper penny made its appearance in Great Falls. The Leader of June 29, 1895 editorialized that the old settlers viewed with disfavor the introduction. “One result of the hard times is the invasion of the West by the cent. So far we have been spared this infliction but we are surrounded by the enemy and cannot hope to escape much longer. Oregon is importing cents and they are in use in Minnesota. The good old days are departing. Scarcely a vestige of them remains. In those happy days now gone forever such a thing as “change” was unknown. Whatever was bought, a newspaper of pins or a sack of flour, the buckskin bag of gold dust was drawn from the purchaser’s pocket and carelessly thrown upon the counter. The fortunate merchant would then unfasten the string that bound the scales . . . After this gold age was past came the reign of the “two-bit” translated into a quarter of a dollar which it represented. Nothing smaller than twenty-five cents was then current. The nickel succeeded the “two-bits” and is still with us. We cling to it lovingly and shall not give it up without a struggle.” Since H. P. Rolfe died in March 1895, this editorial was written during the tenure of Martha Edgerton Rolfe as editor and manager of The Leader.

The dream which in 1884 created the city of Great Falls beside the mighty cataracts of the Missouri, had by 1895, been in large part realized. It had weathered the crises of its youth and was established on a firm foundation. With the courage and faith in its ultimate destiny as evinced by the pioneer founders, the early settlers of Great Falls now faced the boundless prospects of the new horizon.