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Authors: Anne Carlisle
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in the three villages combined.
The “district,” as Alta, Bulette, and Corinthus were known collectively, also claimed the distinction of being an exception to the rule in regard to the aforementioned drinking establishments. Each village had a church, but among the three hamlets, only Alta, the tiniest of them, had a single combined inn and saloon. A society where church-going women dominated the social order rather than the saloon-keepers was an anomaly in the old West. In Alta, the natives' piety was particularly pronounced, a tradition passed down from a severely strict, “low” sect among the original homesteaders. Descendants of the original families who remained were the Brightons, Fairwells, Bottomlys, Harrisons, Simmonses, Hawkers, and Browns. They were a tightly knit group and as deeply resentful of outside influence as the Boxers in China.
Zelda Parker Brighton, the largest landowner by virtue of being sole proprietor of the Brighton Grange and its ten thousand acres, was held in the highest respect, and she intended to keep it that way. Widow Brighton was a proud descendent of Reverend Samuel Parker, a famous missionary in the territory. Her great-aunt was Esther Morris, a woman from South Pass who, for the first time ever in human history, was made a female justice of the peace. Widow Brighton came by her scrupulous pride honestly.
Because of the strictness of the Methodist denomination, the structure of Alta's church was plain and had no steeple. The itinerant pastor was a quiet man with a plain wife and three small, solemn children.
N ot fifty yards from the graveyard of the church stood The Plush Horse Inn & Saloon. A ten-foot music box in one drafty corner also made it the district's sole entertainment center. Innkeeper/owner Augustus “Curly” Drake was a newcomer. Initially viewed with suspicion and alarm, he was duly reported to have attended a prestigious school in Scotland, and his deceased father, it was said, was once president of the Colorado Silver Mines.
As the handsome bachelor held a law degree and owned property, the outsider became a subject of intense interest among the unmarried native daughters. However, in the eyes of the original homesteaders, Drake's eligibility was marred by an inexpugnable black mark. He never attended church in Alta and rarely mixed with his own Scottish denomination in Bulette. Every citizen was expected to attend church on Sundays. The sole exceptions were the native sons who were having their hair cut by Harold Fairwell.
Fairwell , by trade a busy cobbler, performed the barbering service free of charge, regardless of the weather, on the first Sunday of each month. Fairwell claimed Sunday was the only day of the week he could afford to make his services available. Wives grumblingly looked the other way as their husbands used the excuse, once every month, to miss church and catch up on gossip.
Men and women alike had a legitimate need for gossip, as n ews traveled very slowly in the district. Sometimes not knowing social trends back East led to outright disaster. For example, the Western trappers were unaware of the decline in fashion of the beaver hat among Eastern gentlemen, a societal change which decimated the fortunes of most mountain men in the 1840’s. The assassination of President McKinley in Buffalo the following September would not be heard of in Alta until Christmas, because a telegraph line was down. And when the state legislature passed an anti-gambling bill late in 1901, no one in the back room of the Plush Horse Saloon would pay any attention whatsoever until 1906, when the inn was sold to an out-of-town interest.
To get the news of the day and a free cup of coffee, Fairwell and other men of business congregated each morning at Bottomly's Butcher Shoppe. For the purposes of gossip and news dissemination, however, there was nothing better than a series of evening bonfire celebrations held at the end of October, on Thanksgiving, and on
The “district,” as Alta, Bulette, and Corinthus were known collectively, also claimed the distinction of being an exception to the rule in regard to the aforementioned drinking establishments. Each village had a church, but among the three hamlets, only Alta, the tiniest of them, had a single combined inn and saloon. A society where church-going women dominated the social order rather than the saloon-keepers was an anomaly in the old West. In Alta, the natives' piety was particularly pronounced, a tradition passed down from a severely strict, “low” sect among the original homesteaders. Descendants of the original families who remained were the Brightons, Fairwells, Bottomlys, Harrisons, Simmonses, Hawkers, and Browns. They were a tightly knit group and as deeply resentful of outside influence as the Boxers in China.
Zelda Parker Brighton, the largest landowner by virtue of being sole proprietor of the Brighton Grange and its ten thousand acres, was held in the highest respect, and she intended to keep it that way. Widow Brighton was a proud descendent of Reverend Samuel Parker, a famous missionary in the territory. Her great-aunt was Esther Morris, a woman from South Pass who, for the first time ever in human history, was made a female justice of the peace. Widow Brighton came by her scrupulous pride honestly.
Because of the strictness of the Methodist denomination, the structure of Alta's church was plain and had no steeple. The itinerant pastor was a quiet man with a plain wife and three small, solemn children.
N ot fifty yards from the graveyard of the church stood The Plush Horse Inn & Saloon. A ten-foot music box in one drafty corner also made it the district's sole entertainment center. Innkeeper/owner Augustus “Curly” Drake was a newcomer. Initially viewed with suspicion and alarm, he was duly reported to have attended a prestigious school in Scotland, and his deceased father, it was said, was once president of the Colorado Silver Mines.
As the handsome bachelor held a law degree and owned property, the outsider became a subject of intense interest among the unmarried native daughters. However, in the eyes of the original homesteaders, Drake's eligibility was marred by an inexpugnable black mark. He never attended church in Alta and rarely mixed with his own Scottish denomination in Bulette. Every citizen was expected to attend church on Sundays. The sole exceptions were the native sons who were having their hair cut by Harold Fairwell.
Fairwell , by trade a busy cobbler, performed the barbering service free of charge, regardless of the weather, on the first Sunday of each month. Fairwell claimed Sunday was the only day of the week he could afford to make his services available. Wives grumblingly looked the other way as their husbands used the excuse, once every month, to miss church and catch up on gossip.
Men and women alike had a legitimate need for gossip, as n ews traveled very slowly in the district. Sometimes not knowing social trends back East led to outright disaster. For example, the Western trappers were unaware of the decline in fashion of the beaver hat among Eastern gentlemen, a societal change which decimated the fortunes of most mountain men in the 1840’s. The assassination of President McKinley in Buffalo the following September would not be heard of in Alta until Christmas, because a telegraph line was down. And when the state legislature passed an anti-gambling bill late in 1901, no one in the back room of the Plush Horse Saloon would pay any attention whatsoever until 1906, when the inn was sold to an out-of-town interest.
To get the news of the day and a free cup of coffee, Fairwell and other men of business congregated each morning at Bottomly's Butcher Shoppe. For the purposes of gossip and news dissemination, however, there was nothing better than a series of evening bonfire celebrations held at the end of October, on Thanksgiving, and on
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