THE COLORADO CHIEFTAIN
Pueblo, Colorado, November 10, 1870
The following items concerning Fremont County are furnished by one of our “jours” who has recently
returned from a canvassing tour through that county.
Wet Mountain Valley – the German Colony – Crops, Prospects, etc.
A great many inquiries have been made as to the productiveness of this valley, and as to whether the seasons are sufficiently long for grain and vegetables to mature between the spring and fall frosts. I will merely state what I saw, and the reader can draw his own conclusions.
Mr. Horn, whose ranch is about midway of the valley east and west, and close up under the Wet Mountain range, in about the highest altitude in the valley, raised this year some as fine specimens as I ever saw of wheat, oats, barley, rye, buckwheat, potatoes, turnips, parsnips, beets, and rutabagas, all of which matured well.
His cabbages did not mature very well, nor grow very large, because he did not get them transplanted until some time in July, which gave them but a little less than two months to make their growth. He had sufficient, however, for winter use, and to make a barrel of sauerkraut besides. His wheat was fine, large, plump-grained, and yielded at the rate of forty bushes to the acre. It was of the fall variety, and a portion of it was rather badly smutted on account of having been too wet when it was in the milk. He thought at one time that it was going to remain too dry for wheat to fully mature, and irrigated it, on the presumption that irrigation would be necessary, but just as he had got a portion of it thoroughly watered, there came up a very hard rain which made that portion of the wheat irrigated too wet entirely, the consequence of which was that portion was nearly all smut.
His barley was the largest and finest I every saw, and yielded at the rate of sixty-five bushels to the acre. He only sowed a small patch, for the purpose of giving it a test. He has proved that the Germans will not have to go out of the valley to get material for brewing lager.
His oats were very large, and produced about seventy-five bushels to the acre. The most remarkable features of the oats were the great length and superior quality of the straw for feeding purposes. It grew evenly on the ground no less than seven and a half feet high, and yielded about four tons to the acre. At least, he hauled off of an acre and a half as much as he could pile on a very large rack nine times. It is of a very succulent nature, almost as much so as Timothy hay. Horses are so fond of it that, when fed to them, they will scarcely waste a straw.
His rye was also very fine, full-grained and, like his oats, of astonishing length of straw. Its yield could not be easily estimated, as he had but a small patch, raised from a few grains gleaned from some seed wheat. No larger and plumper grained rye can be grown anywhere. His buckwheat was sowed rather too late to make much out of it, although he raised enough for his own use during the winter, and have sufficient seed for a good crop another year.
The reader must prepare to believe a very strong story in regard to potatoes, which is nevertheless “true as gospel.” When Mr. Horn was over at Denver last fall, he got hold of an Early Rose potato peeling, which contained but three eyes. It struck him that he would slip the peeling into his vest pocket, carry it home with him and in the spring plant it, which he accordingly did. In the fall he dug the hill and found twenty-six tubers that would average one and a half pounds each, or thirty-nine pounds to the hill of three eyes. The incredulous may call this a “whopper,” but if any doubt its possibility, I would refer them to a gentleman now doing business in Pueblo, who raised in Illinois three and a half bushels from one potato of the same variety containing thirteen eyes.
Most of the potatoes Mr. Horn raised were of the Blue Neshonoc variety. Of this kind, he raised on a little more than a quarter of an acre two hundred and ten bushels, or about eight hundred bushels to the acre. These potatoes were very large, and averaged better in size than any as large lots I ever saw, there being not more than a peck in the whole lot less than a goose egg. He also raised some very fine Pink Eyes and Peach Blows, which would compare well with potatoes raised in any locality in the United States. His potatoes are remarkably clear of water, and of excellent flavor. It is a settled fact that the potato culture will be a grand success in the valley.
Among the roots raised in the valley, turnips bear the palm – are the “Excelsior.” It does one’s soul good to take a look at Mr. Horn’s turnip pile, especially when you consider the small scope of ground he pulled them from. From less than one third of an acre he gathered six wagon loads, of forty bushels each, and there was a common crop of fair sized turnips still left in the patch. Those gathered would average in circumference about the size of a dessert plate, and are as juicy and sweet as any turnips I ever tasted.
These are the summer turnip, and notwithstanding, they are very large – they are “left in the shade” completely by the winter turnips he has raised this year. None of these were pulled, but we went out to the patch and selected one of the best, which measured, across the largest part, twelve inches and three quarters in diameter, and seventeen inches in depth, from the top to where the small root was broken off. He also has some very fine Hanover turnips and rutabagas, the yield of which is almost, if not quite, as great as that of the summer turnips. These latter are fit only for feed, but for that they can’t be beat. It has been demonstrated by experiment that a cow fed on boiled rutabagas will give at least one-fourth more milk than on any other food, and so farmers need not want for an abundance of cow feed in the valley for winter, so long as they sow plenty of rutabaga seed.
The largest parsnips I ever saw also grew on Mr. Horn’s ranch. I saw them – and a great many of them – over two feet in length, and five inches in thickness at the top. I am of the opinion that they cannot be beat in any country. They were sowed broadcast on a piece of fresh ground in an old beaver dam, without any special preparation of beds, as is usual for the growth of such vegetables. The soil is mellow to such depth that this is not necessary. There is room for vegetables to grow three or four feet deep, if they had time to do so. I have seen larger beets on the Arkansas than I saw in the valley, but in the latter place they were splendid, and like all the succulent vegetables raised there, are remarkably sweet. Onions have not been tested, from the fact that none have been sowed yet. Mr. Horn sowed three or four acres of what he supposed were onion seed, but when they came up they turned out to be rutabagas. That’s why he had such a large crop of the
latter vegetable. I have no doubt, however, that onions will do well, as it is exactly the right kind of soil to grow them on – soft and mellow as an ash bank, and as rich as a compost heap.
Corn, beans, and the various vines will not do well, as they are of too tender a nature to stand the cold and frosty nights which occasionally occur during the summer. I make particular mention of Mr. Horn’s crop, because no one else raised anything that I could hear of, except Mr. Voris, who was so late getting his crop in in the spring that the early frost in the fall did him considerable damage.
4,000 head of cattle now have their range in the valley, twenty-seven hundred head of which belong to Beckwith & Sons, and the remainder of which belong to small owners, who hold from one hundred to five hundred head each. There is about as much reason in saying that a pig will starve in a full crib of corn as that cattle will not winter in Wet Mountain Valley, when the tops of the gramma grass are seen sticking up through eighteen inches of snow. Last winter Beckwith & Sons kept four hundred head through, which improved the whole time. Mr. Vorhis had three hundred and fifty head stray off into the mountains, not a hoof of which he saw until spring when they, every one, came down into the valley in splendid condition. There is room in the valley for fifty thousand head of cattle to do well and still leave room for all the farmers who can find agricultural lands to settle upon. On the north side of the Sierra Madre, from the base to the summit, and from the Huerfano Pass to Grape Creek Canyon, covering an area of four hundred square miles, or two hundred and fifty-six thousand acres, is a body of as fine pasture lands as can be seen in any country on the face of the globe. This estimate does not include a scope nearly as large, and quite as good, which lies between Grape Creek Canyon and the base of the mountains west of Texas Creek, and reaching to the banks of the Arkansas River. Snow scarcely ever lies on the ground longer than two days, at any time of the year, on the south side of the hills and intervening parks, where the sun has ready access to them. Taking these things into consideration, with the fat that the foothills are covered with a rich shrubbery of which cattle are very fond, “there is not a doubt remaining” that cattle will winter in Wet Mountain Valley.
The agricultural lands of the valley are about forty miles long, and average about six miles in width, nearly every foot of which is suitable for cultivation. They contain something more than six townships and over one hundred and sixty thousand acres, capable of giving profitable homes to over fifteen hundred farmers. It is estimated that there are now over five hundred inhabitants in the valley, and settlers are still going in. Let them continue to go in; I am satisfied there is no danger of overdoing the thing. By the introduction of manufactories, I see room for a self-sustaining population of over one hundred thousand. Why not? It contains a greater extent of territory than Wales, is far more productive, has a better climate, the seasons are longer, and yet the latter contains over twice that number of inhabitants.
So far I have not said much in reference to the German colony, from the fact that their affairs are so mixed up that I don’t know what to say. From all I can gather from the contradictory nature of the reports in circulation concerning the, I should conclude they are in rather a “bad row of stumps.” To use the expression of a member of the colony, they “habe peen schwintle out of ebretings,” and “habe peen humpug” ever since they “goom into te walley.” The reader can form his own conclusion as to the source from which their troubles came.
It is unfortunately true that they did not raise anything this season to live on this winter and during the next farming season, and their money and credit, through the bad management of their leaders, are pretty well “played out.” The colony ask a very grave question which but few men can answer correctly, and that is, “What has become of the forty-two thousand dollars paid into the treasury before starting from Chicago,” when all they have to show for it are five hundred goats (worth $2,000), machinery for saw and planing mills (worth $6,000), perhaps a thousand dollars’ worth of agricultural implements, and two hundred head of cattle, for the payment of which almost their entire property is mortgaged, besides an indebtedness of several thousand dollars which otherwise hangs over their heads.”
Several have become disgusted with the colony, forfeited all the interest they had in it, and gone to other parts of the valley and taken up ranches on their own account. Others have left the valley entirely, while still others have gone out to labor during the winter to lay in supplies for the coming summer. The remainder, with commendable energy, still stick to the improvements they have made, which are considerable, full of hope that they will be ultimately successful.
They are busily engaged with their saw mill, and by this time are sawing shingles, but they will not be likely to saw any lumber before spring. Owing to the great demand for shingles on the Arkansas, I think from their manufacture they will be able to live during the winter and perhaps lay something by for the summer. If they can “freeze out” the adversity which has already befallen them by another year, those who remain will be successful. If they had got into the valley about two months sooner, so as to have planted their crops at the early opening of spring, they would have been a great deal better off than they now are; or if, instead of Carl Wulsten, they had had some good, experienced Colorado ranchman to lead them, they would now have been, by the aid of the capital they had consolidated, in splendid, prosperous circumstances. It is said that “experience is a dear school, in which fools never learn, but by which wise men profit withal,” and although it has been a very dear lesson to the Germans, I have sufficient confidence in their wisdom to believe they will be greatly benefited by it in the future.
I must not overlook the fact that there are fully as many, if not more, Americans in the valley as Germans. Unlike the Germans, they are scattered all over the valley. It reminds one very much of an old settlement in the States, in passing through the lower end of the valley, to see the houses here and there, at convenient distances apart to be neighborly, as far as the eye can reach, surrounded by ricks of nutritious hay. The Americans, with the exception of Mr. Horn, whom I have already mentioned, also failed in their crops, and for the very same reasons that the Germans did.
I will have to make another appeal to the – what should be – public spirit of the businessmen of Pueblo. Is it worthwhile for Pueblo to look after the trade of a settlement of five hundred souls, and still growing, and like to continue to grow, in one of the richest parts of the Territory, and representing $300,000 capital? I think it is, and so would any reasonable, sensible man. Well, a voice – the united voice of that people – calls aloud to Pueblo to come and get their trade. They are anxious for Pueblo to have it, but they have no communication hither short of seventy-five miles, and it is quite a hundred miles to the further end of the settlement, the shortest way you can go with a wagon. By a little judicious outlay of money and muscle, they can be brought to our very door. What they want is a good wagon road from Pueblo to the valley by the Hardscrabble Canyon. Every man in the valley of the age of fifteen and upwards, as well as in the Hardscrabble settlement, express a willingness to take out their teams and put in from six to ten days on the road, if Pueblo will do the rest. Will she do it? It remains for her businessmen to decide. Who will have the Wet Mountain trade, Pueblo or Canon City?