Recollections of Old Milestown (Diversions )
From birchyHistory
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PART II: DIVERSIONS OF A CARE-FREE COMMUNITY | PART II: DIVERSIONS OF A CARE-FREE COMMUNITY | ||
| − | MILESTOWN has had several eras, each marked by its own peculiarities and intermediate intervals when the new vogue mixed with the old. First we had the military condition, for the exemplification of which the town was founded. The soldiers, officers and civilian employees of Fort Keogh aggregated about a round thousand, which was more than the town could muster at the start, so the military element dominated for a while. Presently there developed the buffalo hunter. There was never enough of these to make an impression on the life of the community but relatively few as they were, they have a big score marked up against them. They are the men who put the buffalo "out of business". It is doubtful if the world's record shows any such inexcusable slaughter of a harmless and useful animal. Scores of fifty and more a day were made by hunters and the winter of '82-'83 saw the last of them. The cowboy followed next and be put a mark on Old Milestown that clings to it yet, though the only recrudescence of those early days and ways we have now is during the Fourth of July Round-up when the "boys" are given partial freedom of the city and can give way to some of their horse-play. Gradually as we left the "swaddie" and the "bull-whacker" and the "mule-skinner" behind and quiet and orderly people came in, we commenced to 'pinch off' the cowboys' privileges. First we made him put his "gun" away on entering town. Next we deprived him of his time-honored privilege of announcing his arrival by a furious gallop up Main street, whooping and howling and occasionally taking a shot at a street lamp. We tried to enforce the same rules of conduct for departures but as these were never as hilarious as the incomings and as the culprits were out of jurisdiction in a few jumps, the discipline lapsed and in time the comings and the goings of the cowboy were as quiet and orderly as could be desired. And now we are a railroad town and in a fair way to forget that we were ever anything else. It will not be difficult for those who located here in the ten or fifteen years past, to do this, but for the rapidly diminishing "old guard" who were part and parcel of the strenuous days covered by its first fifteen years, there will be innumerable memory cells that will refuse to be plugged up or marked "vacant." Faintly and even dimly illustrative of the daily current of events during these eras when Milestown was in the making, there comes to mind a few of the incidents that kept us up to concert pitch all the time; ready and appreciative of the most unusual performances. | + | MILESTOWN has had several eras, each marked by its own peculiarities and intermediate intervals when the new vogue mixed with the old. First we had the military condition, for the exemplification of which the town was founded. The soldiers, officers and civilian employees of Fort Keogh aggregated about a round thousand, which was more than the town could muster at the start, so the military element dominated for a while. Presently there developed the [[buffalo hunter]]. There was never enough of these to make an impression on the life of the community but relatively few as they were, they have a big score marked up against them. They are the men who put the buffalo "out of business". It is doubtful if the world's record shows any such inexcusable slaughter of a harmless and useful animal. Scores of fifty and more a day were made by hunters and the winter of '82-'83 saw the last of them. The cowboy followed next and be put a mark on Old Milestown that clings to it yet, though the only recrudescence of those early days and ways we have now is during the Fourth of July Round-up when the "boys" are given partial freedom of the city and can give way to some of their horse-play. Gradually as we left the "swaddie" and the "bull-whacker" and the "mule-skinner" behind and quiet and orderly people came in, we commenced to 'pinch off' the cowboys' privileges. First we made him put his "gun" away on entering town. Next we deprived him of his time-honored privilege of announcing his arrival by a furious gallop up Main street, whooping and howling and occasionally taking a shot at a street lamp. We tried to enforce the same rules of conduct for departures but as these were never as hilarious as the incomings and as the culprits were out of jurisdiction in a few jumps, the discipline lapsed and in time the comings and the goings of the cowboy were as quiet and orderly as could be desired. And now we are a railroad town and in a fair way to forget that we were ever anything else. It will not be difficult for those who located here in the ten or fifteen years past, to do this, but for the rapidly diminishing "old guard" who were part and parcel of the strenuous days covered by its first fifteen years, there will be innumerable memory cells that will refuse to be plugged up or marked "vacant." Faintly and even dimly illustrative of the daily current of events during these eras when Milestown was in the making, there comes to mind a few of the incidents that kept us up to concert pitch all the time; ready and appreciative of the most unusual performances. |
Main and Park was a lively corner in those days; lively in the daylight hours because of the concentration of business and traffic thereabouts and warming up as the shades of night began to draw and the evening meal had been disposed of. As dusk fell in the long summer evenings, the bands of the several variety shows -- there were rarely fewer than three of them -- would start out, marching around and blowing their best and loudest in harmonious competition to assemble the crowds that were to take up the risks and pleasures of " the night shift. " And it may be pertinent to note in this connection, that there were individuals living here who were rarely if ever seen in daylight; not because they were "leery" of the greater publicity that is entailed by such exposure, but because they had to sleep, sometime, and as their business prospered better at night, they chose to waste their least profitable hours in sleep. This peculiarity would be exposed whenever there was a night fire. For mutual protection everybody turned out to help fight fires and there the man who worked in daylight and slept at night, would meet many fire-fighters equally as industrious as lie, who were total strangers to him. These night-birds were mainly "gains" and "bar-keeps." "Gains" who "sat in" for a full night session at "stud" and the boys with the white aprons, who ministered to their occasional wants. Gambling was as open as selling popcorn is now. Every saloon had its games of stud, faro and roulette, with black-jack or chuck-a-luck and such like to tempt those who hadn't the nerve to go against the real thing. At times there would be a keno room started but these never lasted long; the rake-off was too heavy and the sports couldn't see what became of their money. "Stud" was the stand-by with faro and roulette patronized principally by the fleeting crowd that liked to keep on the move taking "a flyer" here and there as they roamed at will. The men who played stud were stayers. They "sat in" early and they stayed late, unless perchance a bad guess on the other fellow's "hole card" caused a retirement from the game, but such retirement was only temporary. The discomfited one would come back in a short time with another "stake," which he had either borrowed or "dug up" and resumed his courtship of fickle Pate. One learned in studying these characters that the gambling instinct in its full development, is not dominated by a greed for pelf. It is a test of nerve and skill, the continued strain of which makes the game as serious a problem to the player as the possible strain that may be put upon a new construction, is to an architect or a bridge-builder. If there is a display of temper when money is lost, it is not because of the loss of the money but because of the loser's failure to correctly size up the other fellow's strength. | Main and Park was a lively corner in those days; lively in the daylight hours because of the concentration of business and traffic thereabouts and warming up as the shades of night began to draw and the evening meal had been disposed of. As dusk fell in the long summer evenings, the bands of the several variety shows -- there were rarely fewer than three of them -- would start out, marching around and blowing their best and loudest in harmonious competition to assemble the crowds that were to take up the risks and pleasures of " the night shift. " And it may be pertinent to note in this connection, that there were individuals living here who were rarely if ever seen in daylight; not because they were "leery" of the greater publicity that is entailed by such exposure, but because they had to sleep, sometime, and as their business prospered better at night, they chose to waste their least profitable hours in sleep. This peculiarity would be exposed whenever there was a night fire. For mutual protection everybody turned out to help fight fires and there the man who worked in daylight and slept at night, would meet many fire-fighters equally as industrious as lie, who were total strangers to him. These night-birds were mainly "gains" and "bar-keeps." "Gains" who "sat in" for a full night session at "stud" and the boys with the white aprons, who ministered to their occasional wants. Gambling was as open as selling popcorn is now. Every saloon had its games of stud, faro and roulette, with black-jack or chuck-a-luck and such like to tempt those who hadn't the nerve to go against the real thing. At times there would be a keno room started but these never lasted long; the rake-off was too heavy and the sports couldn't see what became of their money. "Stud" was the stand-by with faro and roulette patronized principally by the fleeting crowd that liked to keep on the move taking "a flyer" here and there as they roamed at will. The men who played stud were stayers. They "sat in" early and they stayed late, unless perchance a bad guess on the other fellow's "hole card" caused a retirement from the game, but such retirement was only temporary. The discomfited one would come back in a short time with another "stake," which he had either borrowed or "dug up" and resumed his courtship of fickle Pate. One learned in studying these characters that the gambling instinct in its full development, is not dominated by a greed for pelf. It is a test of nerve and skill, the continued strain of which makes the game as serious a problem to the player as the possible strain that may be put upon a new construction, is to an architect or a bridge-builder. If there is a display of temper when money is lost, it is not because of the loss of the money but because of the loser's failure to correctly size up the other fellow's strength. | ||
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One institution that is almost coeval with the birth of Milestown and which is still an indispensable adjunct of the social life of the community, is the Miles City Club. It was founded in the fall of 1883 by a small group of young business men who felt the need of a place of social resort not otherwise obtainable. It proved to be a wise and happy suggestion. The membership grew apace and a home found for it in the Stebbins block (now the Commercial State Bank block), which was then approaching completion, and a suite of rooms on the Main street front was especially arranged for the uses of the club. Here it remained for a time but a rapidly increasing membership, principally of range stockmen making their headquarters in town, demanded more commodious quarters and a lease was taken of the entire second floor of the Leighton block, where it remained domiciled until moving to its present quarters in the Wibaux block about fourteen years ago. Immediately after its organization the club demonstrated its indispensability to the town and its progress by affording a place of pleasant sojourn while in town, to the very considerable number of cattlemen then utilizing our ranges, who coming here as strangers found a cordial welcome in the club and an easy way of getting acquainted with our business men. Naturally it took on the flavor of a stockmen's organization and its red-letter days were the three days in April of each year when the annual convention of the Montana Stockgrowers Association met here and discussed matter of business. On these occasions the club set forth every day of the session a royal banquet of "roast pig" and appropriate "trimmings" that gave the town fame and prestige all over the country. I recall a personal incident illustrative of this fact. I was in New York City a visitor in the office of a railroad official, accompanying a friend of mine resident in New York. Merely as a matter of courtesy I was introduced to the official, as of Miles City. The name of the town evidently brought something to mind and he said, reflectively, "Miles City; let's see. That's the place where they have the roast pig, isn't it?" I said that it was, very much pleased to know that our fame and hospitality had traveled that far and had made such an impression. | One institution that is almost coeval with the birth of Milestown and which is still an indispensable adjunct of the social life of the community, is the Miles City Club. It was founded in the fall of 1883 by a small group of young business men who felt the need of a place of social resort not otherwise obtainable. It proved to be a wise and happy suggestion. The membership grew apace and a home found for it in the Stebbins block (now the Commercial State Bank block), which was then approaching completion, and a suite of rooms on the Main street front was especially arranged for the uses of the club. Here it remained for a time but a rapidly increasing membership, principally of range stockmen making their headquarters in town, demanded more commodious quarters and a lease was taken of the entire second floor of the Leighton block, where it remained domiciled until moving to its present quarters in the Wibaux block about fourteen years ago. Immediately after its organization the club demonstrated its indispensability to the town and its progress by affording a place of pleasant sojourn while in town, to the very considerable number of cattlemen then utilizing our ranges, who coming here as strangers found a cordial welcome in the club and an easy way of getting acquainted with our business men. Naturally it took on the flavor of a stockmen's organization and its red-letter days were the three days in April of each year when the annual convention of the Montana Stockgrowers Association met here and discussed matter of business. On these occasions the club set forth every day of the session a royal banquet of "roast pig" and appropriate "trimmings" that gave the town fame and prestige all over the country. I recall a personal incident illustrative of this fact. I was in New York City a visitor in the office of a railroad official, accompanying a friend of mine resident in New York. Merely as a matter of courtesy I was introduced to the official, as of Miles City. The name of the town evidently brought something to mind and he said, reflectively, "Miles City; let's see. That's the place where they have the roast pig, isn't it?" I said that it was, very much pleased to know that our fame and hospitality had traveled that far and had made such an impression. | ||
| − | One incident that occurred in the club while still domiciled in the Stebbins block, which I am moved to relate, because it is so typical of the men and the customs of the times -- though verging slightly on what might be deemed personal and confidential -- is connected with a game of pin-pool played in the club rooms by "Joe" Leighton and Paul McCormick, expert players, each of them, and liable to meet in friendly rivalry whenever occasion served. During the progress of this game, it being Paul's shot, he surveyed the lay-out and announced that he would try for a ramps. " | + | One incident that occurred in the club while still domiciled in the Stebbins block, which I am moved to relate, because it is so typical of the men and the customs of the times -- though verging slightly on what might be deemed personal and confidential -- is connected with a game of pin-pool played in the club rooms by [[Joseph Leighton|"Joe" Leighton]] and [[Paul McCormick]], expert players, each of them, and liable to meet in friendly rivalry whenever occasion served. During the progress of this game, it being Paul's shot, he surveyed the lay-out and announced that he would try for a ramps. " |
"Hundred to one you don't make it," said Joe. | "Hundred to one you don't make it," said Joe. | ||
