Charlie Chaplin on Butte, America

“Such cities as Cleveland, St. Louis, Minneapolis, St. Paul, Kansas City, Denver, Butte, Billings, throbbed with the dynamism of the future and I was imbued with it” wrote Chaplin in his book aptly titled “My Autobiography.” Chaplin freely admitted in his book that he spent some time in Butte’s infamous red light district and looked back at that time with fondness. He wrote — “Butte boasted of having the prettiest women of any red-light district in the West, and it was true. If one saw a pretty girl smartly dressed, one could rest assured she was from the red-light quarter, doing her shopping. Off duty looked neither right nor left and were most respectable. Years later, I argued with Somerset Maugham about his Sadie Thompson character in the play Rain. Jeanne Eagels dressed her rather grotesquely, as I remember, with spring-side boots. I told him that no harlot in Butte, Montana could make money if she dressed like that.” The silent film star also shared — “I actually saw gunplay in the street, a fat old sheriff shooting at the heels of an escaped prisoner, who was eventually cornered in a blind alley without harm, fortunately.”

The only good Indian...

"By a private letter from Rawling Springs, [sic] we learn that the boys up there did not waste the Indian they captured up there yesterday, in fact he was an unusually profitable investment. After they got a scalp apiece off him, they sent what was left down to Fort Steele to the Surgeon there who will use it to good purpose in studying and demonstrating comparative anatomy."

(Later, in same paper: Sheridan vs Colyer) " Four-fifths of the Congressmen and Senators sustain General Sheridan in the position hehas taken in Indian affairs. It is generally assumed here that Mr. Vincent Colyer is a visionary humanitarian, whose observations, both in Alaska and on the plains, are of little practical consideration. A decided reaction has taken place against the Quaker and Samaritan policy adapted towards the savages, and a considerable number of the Western and Pacific coast are even hostile to to making any more Indian treaties or distributing food amongst the tribes. It is alleged that feeding the Indians make them to persist in their nomadic and shiftless mode of life. Sheridan’s catalog of recent Indian atrocities is generally accepted as authentic, and it has aroused abhorrence. The pacific, compromising policy is decidedly below par." --Laramie Sentinel.

This might be the dumbest news story I've ever read.

Odgen Standard Examiner, Aug 26, 1933 EXECUTIVE MUST DECIDE PEANUT ROLLING MATTER Butte, Mont. August 26--(UP)--The future of peanut rolling in Butte rested with Mayor Archie McTaggart today. Last night the city council received a requet from a business college fraternity, asking that pledges to the society be permitted to roll peanuts up and down a central business street with their noses. The council debated the matter for 45 minutes, but voted to refer the question to the mayor when no decision could be reached. {I shouldn't be so critical. I suppose I have probably wasted 45 minutes in worse ways...}

Clarabel Leggat, Big Hole River, 1880

“The mountains rise up high all around this little flat, so I know I am in the mountains, and am pretty satisfied.” Leggat’s Mill, Big Hole River September 16, 1880 Dear Mother: We arrived here, safe and sound, about 10 o’clock PM last night. As I have only sent you postals so far, and not even those since I left Ogden, I will begin back and tell you something of my journey. As I hate to write as much as ever I will probably be brief. [Michigan tales.] And so, at last, we fairly started for the West. It was very pleasant traveling all the way to Ogden. Alexander was as good as could be, not a bit of dust, and very pleasant traveling companions. There were several parties returning from the Conclave to Sacramento and Oakland, etc. Also one young English girl going all the way to San Francisco from England to meet her lover. She would arrive there Sunday morning, and be married Monday, she told me. I looked anxiously all the way for alkali dust, sage brush, prairie chickens, jack-rabbits etc. but saw none of them, except a little sagebrush. A few antelope condescended to be looked at for a few minutes. There was one beautiful sunset we saw over the distant Rockies. As we neared Ogden we passed through the famous Echo and Weber Canons—both beautiful. The Sacramento gentleman paid a great deal of attention to A--[son, Alexander], which he returned in his usual rude way. Nevertheless they had great fun with him, and said they were sorry to part with him. We reached Ogden Friday PM about six o-clock. Left on the Utah and Northern about one hour later. They run no sleeper that night, so we had to content ourselves with a reclining chair, which was really very comfortable. They say there is not an employee in this road who is not a Mormon, I had quite a long talk with the conductor, a very pleasant man, and never suspected that he was not like other folks. In the morning Mr. W. A. Clark, the banker of Butte came to me, and when he found who I was he fairly “enthused.” “Mr. Leggat was one of his best and dearest friends,” etc. so he took charge of me after that. When we reached the terminus at Red Rock, lo and behold John wasn’t there. I had a good mind to stay even in that horrid little place, with the hotel made just of rough boards; but as Mr. C. said it was more than likely he hadn’t received my telegram in time to get there, and said perhaps we would meet him etc. etc. I finally concluded to go by the stage. We left Red Rock about 5 o’clock PM and if you can believe it, I lived through over six mortal hours of the most horrible jolting imagination can conceive of. It was not a bit of comfort that one man said it was a real pleasure ride compared to what he had been enduring for two or three days before in another part of the Territory. Baby slept most of the time, with his head on my lap, and I would hold on to him with one hand, to keep him from flying off into space, all the time, when we came to one place more diabolical that the rest I would brace myself with both feet and the other hand, and use what remaining energy I had to keep from screaming. Added to all this, the disgusting alkali dust came rolling in in perfect clouds, the first I had seen, and most exasperating of all, every few miles we could cross the rail road track—for it is laid the whole 40 miles that I rode, but trains are not run on it yet. After six hours of this fiendish torture I concluded that if Mr. J. A. Leggat wanted to see me he could come where I was, so I stopped at a station called Watson at about half past eleven, and went to bed, where I stayed til ten o’clock Sunday. I had been up about one hour and just laid down on the couch for another nap when baby came in and said that man wanted to see me. As I couldn’t get anything more out of him I thought some one had been having some fun with him, so I lay still; when in walked the “Old Original” himself. He was on his way to the terminus and had met Mr. Clark about 40 miles beyond where I was. As I had it fully settled in my own mind that he wouldn’t be there 2 days at least to say that I was greatly surprised is speaking mildly. As he wanted to go to Bannack City he thought we had better drive part of the way that afternoon. So we drove over to Argenta 15 miles away. This was formerly a thriving mining town, but was almost deserted—a dreary place. I never thought I should care to ride in a light spring wagon, but I considered it perfectly luxurious now, after that horrible coach. The next day we went to Bannack. This is about the oldest place in the Territory—had formerly 1000 inhabitants, which have dwindled away to 2 or 3 hundred. It is the county seat of Beaverhead Co., which is probably the largest county in the world. Two or three states might be lost in it. It—Bannack, is a deserted, dreary looking place, situated on Rattlesnake Creek, no Grasshopper Creek. Tuesday we staretd for Divide. Rode 50 miles and spent the night at Willow Creek, a stage station. Next day went to Glendale. This is a lively little town clustered about the Hecla Mining Works. It is about the largest town I have seen in Montana. It is built right on the mountain, the street going up and down and zig zag. All the country, so far, had seemed desolate enough as there was scarcely any vegetation for lack of rain. But this side of Glendale the trip was one continued delight. For 15 miles we rode over a regular “sure enough” mountain road, with sharp ascents and descents, and for a long distance through a magnificent, awe-inspiring canon. But everything I had seen or read of was eclipsed by the beautiful scenery on the way up here from Divide. Nearly all of those six miles was through the wildest, most romantic canon I have seen. Directly from one side of the narrow road rose a high mountain, and on the other 20 or 30 feet below rolled and tumbled the Big Hole River, a most beautiful mountain stream, larger considerably than the Shiawassee, and from its opposite bank rose another high mountain, or mountains. To cap the climax of this most beautiful, wild and picturesque scene the moon was at the full and very brilliant. They tell me that the six miles up the mine is just as beautiful. I am anxious to see it. We reached the mill at about 10 o’clock PM the 15th of September. This [Dewey] Flat is an opening between the mountains. The mill and two cabins are close together, right in the bank of the river. Aleck and Robert were on hand to welcome us, and I was ushered into about the dirtiest and most disorderly cabin I ever saw. A long table was in the center of the room surrounded by little benches, instead of chairs, a couple of bedsteads on one side of the room, one of these having some bedding tumbled on it, the other covered with miscellaneous articles, and all sorts of things scattered about elsewhere, and dirt everywhere. (How mad the men would be to see this!) It turned out however that the other cabin, a new one, was to be my abode. As there was nothing in this but a carpet, two small tables, two stands and a bedstead there wasn’t much chance for disorder. The log part contains three rooms. A large front room, having 3 windows, a good sized bedroom and another room not yet named. There is an addition to this of 2 more rooms for John’s Assay business. As the Chinaman is to do the cooking and washing and we take our meals in the other cabin, you see I will have plenty of room. The walls of the cabin are covered with this chick lining paper on which is stamped a very pretty pattern, and the ceiling is covered with white cotton cloth, which looks really nice. The carpet is about the prettiest rag carpet I ever saw, being so beautifully woven. It is in the front room and bedroom. My Lord had made the bedstead himself and considers it a triumph of his skill. I will leave you to imagine the looks of it-- and the weight of it! He and I together, after much hard pulling and tugging managed to get it turned around and nearly in place. We didn’t lack for good bedding, I assure you, even to sheets and pillowcases. To be sure the sheets were several inches too short, and the only pair about the establishment, but they looked well. There were no pillows when I got there but a pair were very soon manufactured. It’s nothing to make pillows, if you only know how. All you have to do is stuff a lot of wool into bags, tie up the ends, and there you are. If the end of the bags do hang out beyond the pillow cases, it will make no difference to a well-balanced mind. You will have observed perhaps that chairs have not been mentioned as part of the furniture. There were none at the time of my arrival; but in a day or so, 4 beautiful, hard, green and yellow wooden chairs came up, in great style, in company with my trunk. The latter I did not succeed in getting any lock for so I had 3 straps put on it. The dust had penetrated to the very bottom, and ever last thing was covered with it. I am looking anxiously for my box now, so that I can begin to get settled. I expect to have as cozy a little home as you ever saw, and to take solid comfort in it. I am very much pleased so far, as everything is so much pleasanter than I expected. The weather is beautiful, though a little too cool for me. [ The mountains rise up high all around this little flat, so I know I am in the mountains, and am pretty satisfied. ] I have been sick, as usual, for a day or two, and of course felt it more. Alexander has been as hateful as he could be mos tof the time, especially to his father. He has displayed considerable jealousy several times, and resents everything he says to him. John hasn’t really taken him in hand yet, but his patience won’t last much longer. I wonder he has stood it so long, for he has been very disagreeable. I want to send this to Divide this evening so must stop. It is now Sunday I might to have written before but this has nearly killed me. Read this to Mrs. Baldwin and send it to all the relations who want it. I promised [ill.] “Circular Letter,” not expected to send something better than this. So write to me some and let me know all about yourself. I just stopped a few minutes to go over to the mill and see them pour the molten silver into bars. It is wonderful how many processes it has to go through after being taken out of the ground. The bars weigh about 80 lbs. I will try to write next week. Alexander says tell Grandma I’m been fishing, and there he goes on with a long story I can’t remember. With much love for yourself, and all the friends, I am, your daughter, C. A. Leggat. John sends love and will write you some [time]. (John A. Leggat was born in 1832, and along with his twin brother Alexander, and another brother, Rodney, ran a five-stamp gold mill in Dewey, built in 1876. After the death of his first wife, John married his second wife, Clarabel Ament, in 1876, the same year he traveled to Montana and established a series of mining claims in Quartz Hill called the Argyle Group. Clarabel and her 3 or 4 year old son Alexander traveled from Michigan to Dewey in 1880 to join her husband and his brothers at his mill. After her arrival to Montana, she wrote her mother a delightful letter detailing the journey, full of sassiness and sarcasm. Sadly, Clarabel died in 1881, just a year after her arrival and only five years in to her happy marriage with John. She left her son, Alexander, and died giving birth to a daughter, named Claribel after her mother, who outlived her. She was obviously a woman of wit and humor!)

Lost in Translation

"The idea of teaching every girl to thump the piano and every boy to be a bookkeeper will make potatoes worth eight dollars a barrel in twenty years." -Virginia City [Montana] Times I have no idea what that means.

Montana's Loose Definition of 'Moral'

"Judge Clancy yesterday in a naturalization hearing defined a man 'of good moral character' who had never stolen a horse or cut a throat." -The Montana Standard, 19 April 1942, p. 29

No strength like a father's love

A most peculiar accident happened in Baggs Friday morning. While Al Warren was preparing to start to Rawlins, his little six-year-old boy climbed up on the wheel of the wagon, which was loaded with 3300 lbs of oats. The horses started, throwing the young fellow under the wheel. Mr. Warren caught the wheel and lifted in all of his power, which no doubt saved the little fellow's life as the wheel ran across him from above his hip to the knee of the opposite leg. Strange to say, he was not even bruised, while one would naturally suppose his body had been cut in two. -Routt County Courier, October 26, 1905