Winfield Scott Stratton, Part 1: A Test of Faith
Winfield Scott Stratton, perhaps the least known but single largest contributor to Colorado Springs, was an enigma. Known as much for his benevolence as for his eccentricities, Stratton was America’s first and biggest nineteenth-century multi-millionaire.
Stratton was born in Jeffersonville, Illinois in 1848 as one of eight children, six of whom were girls. He was named after Winfield Scott, nicknamed “Old Fuss and Feathers,” a hero from the Mexican-Indian war whom his father admired. Turns out young Winfield matched his namesake’s demeanor, earning the title “Little Fuss and Feathers” because he was calm most of the time but subject to bouts of temper. When he was a teenager his father, Myron Stratton, got him an apprenticeship as a carpenter in his shipbuilding business.
Stratton didn’t really like carpentry, although he showed a knack for it. When he heard “Pikes Peak or Bust” from passengers on ships coming up the river, he began to dream of going to Colorado Springs to seek his fortune. After a couple of years as an apprentice, he took a job as a clerk in his brother-in-law’s Iowa drugstore in order to further his plan to get to Colorado. When he had saved $300, he left for Pikes Peak.
Anyone who has traveled toward Colorado Springs from the east knows the thrill of seeing the Rockies from far away and watching Pikes Peak take prominence as it gets closer. Stratton must have been awestruck by his first sighting of the mountain that would later change his life. He kept his $300 hidden deep in his pocket and spent the night in a livery stable. The next day, he set about getting work.
With Stratton’s talent in carpentry and drafting, finding work was easy because in 1872, Colorado Springs had been incorporated for only about a year. His skills were in high demand. Soon, Stratton became well known for his businesslike manner and strong work ethic. He built many of the shanties people lived in until more permanent residences could be established. He invested his $300 in two pieces of land, which he later sold at a profit.
As his reputation as a carpenter and woodworker grew, he began making from one to three dollars a day. He soon started his own business, but due to his hot temper and rather unpredictable nature (a la “Fuss and Feathers”), he had a hard time keeping a business partner. One of the partners left because Stratton got so mad he tried to shoot the guy. Despite his erratic temper, Stratton was still considered one of the foremost authorities on buildings, so when Henry McAllister, one of the Springs’ earliest and most prominent residents, asked for his advice on building a weather-resistant house, Stratton suggested the extra thick reinforced walls that make the McAllister House still stand today.
Stratton also hand carved all the distinctive “knob and notch” trim work around the doors in the house, and all the fancy woodwork on the porch and outside trim. The McAllister House is one of the few specimens of Stratton’s work that still exists in the city today. McAllister’s son, Henry Jr., was a toddler at the time of Stratton’s work on the house; this boy would grow up to have a huge impact on Stratton’s legacy. Watch for him in part three of this series: “A Testament to a Legacy.”
The mountains were calling to Stratton louder than ever. Silver had been discovered at Leadville, and H. A. W. “Haw” Tabor had struck it rich and become an instant millionaire. That was the turning point. Stratton sold his rather lucrative construction business, bought himself a tool outfit and a couple of burros, and started up the mountain.
Over the next five years, Stratton wandered all over the mountains trying again and again to find the bonanza he knew was out there. During the winter of 1875-76, he met Zeurah Stewart, nine years his junior. After a six-month courtship, he married her the following July. He left her alone for several months at a time as he prospected, flying into a jealous rage upon hearing that, in his absence, she had kept company with other men. After just a few months of marriage, she told him she was pregnant, and he swore the child wasn’t his. Convinced she had cheated on him, he sent her back to her home in Illinois and never saw her again. Two years later he filed for a divorce and swore off women for good.
He went back to Leadville and got a job in one of the silver mines there. One day he was hanging out in front of a hotel where he saw an imposing figure light a cigar with a dollar bill as he stepped through the doorway. The richest person in the country, Haw Tabor, was standing right in front of him! Tabor commissioned Stratton to carve and silver-leaf a giant wooden silver dollar for decoration on his new bank. Stratton gratefully took the job and even helped install the giant coin.
With the cash from Tabor, Stratton again set out into the mountains, chasing up stream beds and camping in valleys as he followed the rumors of gold and silver. When he ran out of money, he went back to Colorado Springs to earn some more. Thus began a pattern of work-in-the-winter, prospect-in-the-summer that would continue for the next twelve years.
He went as far south as La Veta, as far west as Ouray, and as far north as Creede, but he still didn’t find anything. Pikes Peak kept watch over him, sending him the vibe that gold was at her heart. He was sure things would change if he tried some little-explored sections of the high country on the back side of the Peak, but he was played out. Stratton had no cash, no supplies, and no credibility. He was a laughingstock, both in Cripple Creek and in Colorado Springs. He took some surveying classes at Colorado College and at the Colorado School of Mines. Learning how to test ore for gold himself on site saved him time, but didn’t help his wallet much.
With a final plea he went to his old friend Leslie Popejoy and asked for a $275 grubstake. Stratton convinced Popejoy that this time would be different. Popejoy had heard this story before but ended up giving him the cash, telling Stratton that he better make sure any stakes he drove around a claim had both their names on them. On July 3, 1891 Stratton bought a new burro and supplies and headed up Ute Pass.
He camped outside Cripple Creek, talking late into the night with old prospectors. His eyes kept returning to a promontory on the side of Battle Mountain, and he fell asleep dreaming of it. In the dream, he had an epiphany: his mother lode was inside the mountain under that ledge. The next day, he ran to stake it out. Miners thought he was crazy because there was no geological evidence of any gold over there. They laughed at him–he was such a fool!
He staked two claims, the Washington and the Independence. Initial samples of the Washington claim assayed at almost nothing. Popejoy’s agent came to check that the stakes had both names on them. The agent returned with the news that although both names were there, the claims weren’t worth much (a point that will become important later). When he came back to town the next day and bought out Popejoy’s share of the grubstake, Popejoy didn’t ask where Stratton got the money so fast. He just assumed that Stratton had swindled some other sucker out of it.
Popejoy’s mistake was Winfield Scott Stratton’s life-changing moment. He was about to strike pay dirt on the biggest goldmine in the world.
Click here for Part Two: “Independence and Influence.”
