| I left Denver
soon after Christmas, 1885, a few days after my father's sudden death
[He was
Augustine Gallet Langford - George, III]. My
mother [nee Elizabeth Bell Robertson - George, III] with her three
sons; Nathanial Pitt; William Robertson; and me (George) returned to
St. Paul, Minnesota where my mother's family, the Robertsons,
lived. Our best and closest friends in Denver were Mr.
and Mrs. Henry
Hanington and their three boys; Charles, Harry
and Robert.
[Note: John
Yates, great grandson of Henry
Hanington,
pointed out February 10, 2006, that I had misinterpreted my
grandfather's handritten spelling of Hanington as Harrington and then
generously filled
in some more family history of the Haningtons - George III.] |
| In
the Summer of
1888, my mother took my brother, William, and myself back to Denver for
a few weeks' visit with the Haningtons [Henry Hanington kept a diary
which has been transcribed by Henry Hanington Jr.'s granddaughter; this diary dates
the
visit to the Summer of 1889 and mentions the Johnstown Flood, which
occurred May 31, 1889 - George, III]. They
lived at 1080 Grant Avenue. A large irrigating ditch ran through
the back yard.
We called it the "Big Ditch," and it figured very largely in our daily
play. Will and I did most of our playing with Rob Hanington, who
was a bit older than Will. On July 4th, General William T.
Sherman came to Denver and was given a rousing welcome. Harry
Hanington, being a [just graduated - George,
III] high school Senior in high standing, was chosen to
deliver an address of welcome to General Sherman at the evening meeting
in a park before a large crowd with bands, marching soldiers, and
fireworks. |
| I did not see
any more of the Haningtons until the Summer of 1893, when with my
cousin William Stephenson I attended the World's
Fair in Chicago. We spent a week there, and in that time had
several visits with Charles
Hanington, who had come to see the
fair. He was the oldest of the three Hanington boys and was
about 8 years older than myself. I saw Robert, the youngest, in
1894 through 1896 when he was an upper classman in the Sheffield
Scientific School at Yale University. |
| My mother died
in October, 1931, leaving many papers relating to the Langford and
Robertson families. My two brothers sent me these papers,
suggesting that I take note of them. I had never taken any
interest in family history, but I found several mysteries in ours and
worked on them for over four years. My older brother Nathaniel
became deeply interested, and the two of us kept up a long and lively
correspondence on the subject. Some of it concerned our
father's
activities when he left Utica, New York, as a young man to try his
fortune in the West. His older
brother, Nathaniel Pitt
Langford [of Yellowstone and vigilante
fame. For his biography, see: Wheeler, Olin D. 1915. Nathaniel
Pitt Langford: The
Vigilante, the Explorer, the Expounder and First Superintendent of the
Yellowstone Park. Minnesota
Historical Society Collections - George, III] accompanied him. They first went to
St.
Paul, Minnesota, in about 1858, where my father met a 9 year old
daughter of Colonel
Daniel Alexander Robertson.
He eventually married this
daughter, Elizabeth Bell Robertson, in 1871. |
| For a time, the
two brothers, Nathaniel and Augustine G. (later to become my father)
tried unsuccessful real estate ventures and employment in St. Paul and
finally decided to try the Far West, where gold mining was attracting
many prospectors. Nathaniel headed for Montana, and then
Augustine went to Denver, Colorado, in January, 1861, by buckboard, a
light, horse-drawn wagon. Among my mother's papers was a letter
giving an account of Augustine's trip across the plains and his first
pioneering life in Denver. He soon decided that gold mining
without capital was poor business. Pretty soon Augustine
was in a sort of partnership with Joseph P. Marshall, whom he had
met in St. Paul, brother of his brother-in-law, Governor
William R. Marshall. The latter, a Colonel and
Civil War veteran, had married Augustine's older sister, Abigail
Langford, and they were living in St. Paul. |
| From Augustine's
letters it appears that he and Joseph Marshall started a foundry
business. The Civil War broke out, and Augustine made some
cannon, which he wrote about. The difficulty of getting pig iron
across the plains from St. Louis, Missouri, prompted Joseph and
Augustine to try their hand at iron making. Augustine's letters
were not enthusiastic over this venture and not much was said as to
whether any pig iron was actually made. Finally, Augustine went
to Black Hawk, Colorado, and operated a
foundry
and machine shop there. |
| Black Hawk was
in the mountains close to Central, Colorado, where much gold mining was
going on. In 1871 Augustine married Elizabeth Bell Robertson of
St. Paul, Minnesota, and their
first house was in Black Hawk. My
oldest brother Nathaniel was born there in October, 1872. Then
they moved to Denver. My earliest recollections of my father,
Augustine, were when he was manager of the Marshall
Coal Mining
Company, in their office at Denver. My mother's younger
brother,
Victor Robertson, came to Denver several times. Apparently, he
had operated a store at one time, near the Marshall coal mine. |
| Once launched
into our family history in 1931, my brother Nathaniel and I felt the
urge to visit Denver again in order to investigate the scenes of our
father's early activities. So in May, 1932, we drove there in his
Buick car. He and his wife, Theo, came to Joliet, Illinois, from
St. Paul, and my wife, Sydney Holmes, and I joined them at
Joliet. The four of us took turns at driving. |
| Forty-four years
had passed since I saw Denver, and this visit awakened many
memories. Sydney and I visited the Charles Haningtons while Theo
and Tan went to Colorado Springs for a few days. Charles
Hanington took me in tow. He had recently become manager of the Colorado
Museum of Natural History. He took me to our old house on
Champa Street.
I couldn't remember it. I was about four
years old when we moved to 22 South 14th Street. I could
remember that Langford home well enough; a small brick house with brick
barn at the back; Kerr house to the right of us; Howard house to the
left of us; the Halleck home in front across the street; and with the
LaVista row of apartments farther down the street. I remembered
it all to a dot. But it wasn't there; all torn down, and not a
brick left. A park-like civic center had moved in. Our
house and all that I knew so well was completely gone. I couldn't
find my way around. |
| However, I
remembered directions and topography. I knew where the Broadway
School was or ought to be, near us. I was in the 3rd grade
there, when we left Denver in December, 1885. I found the place
easily enough, only there wasn't any school. A garage, filling
station, and some small stores had taken its place. |
| I lit out for
the Hanington home, 1080 Grant Avenue, with the "Big Ditch" behind, a
huge area of farm land in front and not many hoses near. The
house was there, but turned around and unrecognizable; the whole
district, block after block of residences; and big apartment houses
where farm land ought to be. Everything had disappeared.
Even the "Big Ditch" was filled in, and I could not find hide nor hair
of it. |
| I was
tremendously disappointed. Denver had grown up. It was a
village when I left it; lots of empty space to play around in.
Having seen what I thought I wanted to see, I was through. Never
again. |
| In a few days,
Tan and Theo returned from Colorado Springs, and Charles Hanington
drove us over the mountains to Central
and Black Hawk. I
remembered nothing about these places until we got there. Then I
vaguely recalled a very rough journey over the mountains by
buckboard. Something about Central was familiar. Charles
Hanington told me that Central had changed very little in 50
years. It was in 1882, just before I entered 1st Grade in the
Denver Broadway Public School, that my father took me up to Central. |
| Charles
Hanington drove us a further few miles out to Black Hawk, and we
stopped to see the Langford
house, which was still there and doing
business. I did not remember it. Tan was born there, but I
probably never saw it before I was born later in Denver, after the
family moved away from Black Hawk. While at Central, I remembered
something about my father taking me into a coal mine. Charles
said he would follow up that prospect when we got back to Denver.
Our trip to Central kept us busy all of one day. |
| Charles
Hanington showed me a pamphlet published recently by the Denver
Historical Society. It told of the Joseph Marshall Company,
first iron makers this far west of the Mississippi River. This
iron making took place in the early 60's somewhere the little city of
Marshall near the foot of the mountains not far from Denver, it
said. The Marshall Company had made some iron, but not much, as
far as anyone knew, and the Historical Society was looking for more
information about this pioneer in iron making. So Charles and I
drove off to Marshall to see what we could discover, if anything. |
| Marshall was an
extremely small place, but something about the surrounding country
awakened vague recollections, particularly the one-track
railroad along the foot of the hills, whose sides were scarred with
signs of abandoned coal mining. |
| I inquired about
old times from several people, and finally one of them said, "Why don't
you see ____ ? He lives about a mile up the hill. He has
been around here longer than anybody." So I went to the place and
soon found the one specified. He was old, with white hair.
I asked him, "Did you ever hear of Joseph Marshall around here, or of
his partner, Augustine Langford ?" and he came back at me, Yes, and
I'll bet you are Augustine Langford's son." He laughed at my
astonishment and went on, "My father was our father's mine
foreman. You came up here, a little kid, and my father took you
into the mine a little way, on his shoulder. I was a boy then,
working at the mine." That was pretty close to 1881 when I was
only 5 years old. I dimly remembered 50 years later the rough
trip on that jerkwater railway, the mine opening sloping gradually into
the hillside, and a short trip into the darkness on someone's
shoulder. That
was the Marshall coal mine, and my father was its manager. |
| The old
man was
not so sure about iron making in that region. Yes, some had been
made not far from the mine, but not for long, for lack of charcoal and
iron ore. There were not many trees to get charcoal, and a man
had to hunt around a long time finding enough surface bog iron or red
oxide to fill a basket. There were traces of some stone ruins
that might have been where some iron smelting had been done. I
spoke of some old building foundations near the old mine, and my
informer told me that was where the store used to be. Augustine
Langford's relative worked in that store. I mentioned the name,
Victor Robertson, and it was the right guess. Victor was my
mother's younger brother. [The
reader might remember that the son of
Howard Morris, one of the principal owners of the McKenna Process
Company, was Victor Morris, and that Howard
Morris's spouse (and Victor Morris' s mother) was Julia A. Robertson,
Elizabeth Bell Robertson's sister. Elizabeth was George Langford,
Sr.'s mother. Victor Morris might, therefire, have been named
after his uncle, Victor Robertson. Nevertheless, there appear to
have been no financial connections between the two familes except for
the hiring of the nephew of Howard Morris, George Langford, Sr., by the
newborn McKenna Process Company. Perhaps, there were no profits
to be so shared - George, III]. |
| The old man and
I had quite a jovial reunion, and then I got busy on the iron-making
problem. I was quite familiar with how, and with what, iron was
smelted in the old days; first, a 15-20 foot tower at the side of a
hill; a stream nearby to furnish water power; and a floor at the base
of the tower. There would be a runway on the hillside, leading to
the top of the tower, where measured loads of charcoal, iron ore, and
limestone were dumped into the tower through a hole at the top.
The charcoal was the melting fuel, and the limestone was the flux
which, when molten, absorbed impurities from the ore and fuel, and
which flowed away as slag before the molten iron was allowed to flow
out upon the floor and into sand molds, resulting in "pigs" when
cooled. The water power drove a wheel which worked an air
bellows. The air, blown into the burning charcoal, supplied the
oxygen at a rate sufficient to generate the melting heat. The
stone tower was the ancestor of our modern blast furnace. |
| I soon found the
stone ruins above mentioned and, as they adjoined the back yards of
several residences, I had to get permission to investigate. I had
a shovel and trench pick, and I managed to to get several stones in the
ruins out. They showed traces of red iron oxide, and so I sailed
into the floor. This was merely backyard dirt. I dug nearly
four feet down,and it was just fool's luck, for I hit the right spot
and soon uncovered two iron "pigs," quite slender and about four feet
long. When iron smelting ended there in 1865 or thereabouts, the
"pigs" must have been overlooked. I really had not hoped to find
any, but there they were, and welcome, too. I gave one of them to
the Historical Society of Denver. I sawed the other one in two;
Tan got one half, and I, the other. |
| Our visit to
Denver finished up at the Country Club with a dinner; the three
Hanington boys and their three wives; and we two Langford and our two
wives. My brother Will and his wife, Helen, were not with
us. The Country Club
was on the site of one of the "Cherry
Creek Groves," wild and spooky in the old days, but chastened by
civilization. |