Lusty, Lucrative, Leadville, Colorado

After three days in Colorado Springs, we traveled west on sunny, scenic U.S. Rt. 24 to reach statutory Leadville. Tour guides claim this is the highest incorporated city in the U.S. at an altitude of over 10,000 feet. It is sometimes called “Cloud City” and “Two Mile High City.” Once the second largest city in Colorado, next to Denver, Leadville has a fascinating history that should entice every Old West history buff. Fabulous old brick buildings in the Historic District have been well maintained, and the lovely Victorian architecture is reminiscent of a bygone era filled with intriguing legends. We arrived in early afternoon to find the Campground USA RV Corral a bit primitive but adequate. The manager warned that the nightly crowd in the nearby old saloon could become boisterous, but such was not the case.

Leadville was once a rough and tough silver mining city of over 40,000 people in 1880. (Today the population is less than 3000). Gun slingers like Jesse James and Doc Holliday were legendary as were brothel madams and bar room dancers. The quaint Silver Dollar Saloon has operated since 1878. Perhaps the most prominent family was that of Horace and Augusta Tabor. They built the famous Tabor Opera House, which seated 800 in plush seats; it is still in business. Horace became a successful prospector, businessman, Colorado State Governor, and U.S. Senator. Augusta, first hearty pioneer woman to reach the area, was known as the First Lady of Leadville. In 1859 this couple with their little boy Maxcy made their way from Maine to Kansas for a couple of years and then on to the Rockies in search of gold. They battled Indians, rattlesnakes, floods, frigid weather, hunger and sickness before finally striking it rich in silver near Leadville in 1879. Horace became politically astute and wealthy; he loved to spend. Augusta was frugal and did not want to upgrade their lifestyle nor even her attire. Soon inspirational Horace, the “Silver King,” no longer faithful to Augusta, found comfort and excitement in the arms of mistress Baby McCourt Doe, a beautiful, married, well-proportioned young woman with dreamy big blue eyes. She was a middle-class, Irish Catholic figure skating champion from Wisconsin and had been referred to as the “Belle of Oshkosh." Her ne’er do well husband, William Harvey Doe, from the same state, had been given a deed to a mine in Central City, CO by his father. Hoping to gain a fortune, the couple never achieved success, and Elizabeth was tired of arduous mine work and impoverishment. The ogling miners of Leadville had never seen anyone quite as alluring as “Beautiful Baby.”

After a lengthy, steamy, illicit affair, Senator Horace Tabor and Baby Doe were married at the Willard Hotel in Washington, D.C. in 1882 following a scandal that rocked the country. A Catholic Priest performed the ceremony; the bride, 25 years younger than the groom, wore a $7000 gown and a $90,000 diamond necklace. They lived lavishly for several years and produced two daughters. In the end, however, kind fate was not on their side. In the 1890s Horace’s fortune vanished as the result of the U.S. government embracing gold instead of silver as a backup to the dollar. He was eventually reduced to a laborer job hauling slag for $3 per day, but one year before he died of appendicitis in 1899, he was appointed Postmaster of Denver. The Tabors' mansion, furnishings, jewels, and elegant carriages had all been sold at auction. Widow Baby Doe was still a “looker” but was once more broke. She and daughters, Lillie and Silver, moved to Chicago to live with relatives, but Baby Doe and Silver soon returned to Leadville. Silver formed liaisons with several men in Leadville, Denver, and Chicago while seeking solace in booze and drugs. She was murdered in Chicago at age 25.

Destitute Baby Doe remained faithful to Horace’s memory for 35 years after his death and moved to a shabby cabin at the abandoned Tabor Matchless Mine, due to the generosity of the owners. After a severe cold spell in 1935, her frozen body was found on the floor of her stark, messy shack. She apparently had run out of firewood, but some say she died of a died of a heart attack at age 81. Her “roller coaster” life story has been translated into books, articles, plays, a movie, two operas, and a one woman show. Augusta never remarried. Thanks to her generous divorce settlement, she lived comfortably for several years in the Tabor mansion in Denver and eventually in the Brown Palace Hotel owned by son, Maxcy. Due to health concerns, she moved to Pasadena, California, where she died in 1895 at age 62. The Tabor love triangle reads like a Russian tragedy. All three members are buried in Denver; Horace and Baby Doe rest together. Somber Augusta is still alone, but she died a revered and wealthy woman. She left $1.5 million to her only son, Maxcy.

Two days are probably adequate for touring Leadville, although we did not explore any of the old ghost mines. We enjoyed the two and a half hour scenic train ride, but it does not compare with the one in Durango. The other main attraction is the National Mining Hall of Fame and Museum founded in 1897. It includes myriad displays of mining memorabilia and fascinating old photos of life in the mines. A teacher’s corner urges students to understand and appreciate the importance of many mined minerals necessary for human life. Plaques adorn the walls honoring scores of former luminaries in the mining industry, including the Tabors and President Hoover.

We met a likeable, interesting old miner named Frank during our stay. He still drives the rusty 1951 GMC pickup truck purchased new by his father. He is clinging to rumors that the old Climax Mine may open again. Before departing, we visited the Twin Lakes area, located 20 miles from the city, and consumed a strawberry-rhubarb pie alamode dessert at a quaint coffee house across from a two-story log home.