##page

#

The leader and chiefs of that outbreak were captured, tried and hanged. My mother saw them marched through the town on their way to trial. During this Indian outbreak Mother went to St. Paul down the river. There were only 3 of us children, David, Susanna, & Mary, then. She stayed with relatives until the fright quieted down. Pryor to the outbreak an uncle, father’s brother, was Boss Carpenter at the fort where the Indian trouble originated. He made friends with the Indians and caught on to their language and he could understand them and know they trusted him. They told him of their grievances, that they were being denied or robbed of their supplies that the Government provided for them. The night before the massacre started they warned him to leave. He knew it was necessary and started on foot, walked at night and hid in the daytime. When I was old enough to understand I heard my uncle say that the Indians were wronged of their rights, and the unscrupulous agents were directly to blame for the horrible massacre. Those of you who have read of the history of that fight would probably like to know that the unknown Brave recorded in it was my father Captain Nicholas Hilger. To an Indian hanging is a disgrace and their chief’s death wrankled to such an extent they retaliated by being constantly on the warpath. In 1864 father resigned captaincy to join General Sully.

So it was in this year (1864) our government sent General Sully with troops from Northwest Iowa and Minnesota to hunt out and punish the combined tribes of hostile Sioux Indians, supposed to be located in the Bighorn and Yellowstone Valleys in eastern Montana. His expedition was one of the most powerful, costly and best equipped ever sent out against the hostile Indians, consisting of 4,000 cavalry, two batteries, 12 pieces of artillery, 800 infantry, 300 government teams and 300 beef steers, and 15 steamers to carry supplies along the course of the Yellowstone and Missouri rivers. My father who had no terrors for the Indian warfare joined Sully’s expedition as he was anxious to go to the gold fields of Montana, and on this trip he was newspaper correspondent of the ST. PAUL PIONEER PRESS. On the 4th of July the same year near the present site of Fort Rice, and emigrant train of 250 people with 160 wagons joined the expedition and on the 7th of July several steamers began transporting the expedition over the Missouri; which took 3 days, Fort Rice was located, 800 infantry was left to complete and occupy the fort and General Sully proceeded on his westward mission. An now I am referring to a reliable copy of my father’s diary of the description of bad lands of the Little Missouri and it is a wonderfully described account. He said the scenery resembled a magnificent city, castles, fortresses, and every imaginable form of structure, towers, cones, and monuments, so inspiring, few words were spoken, and they were imagining themselves entering the ruins of some prehistoric city. The setting sun casting its rays on the dark red color added to its grandeur. Darkness stole upon them without a thought of water, fuel, and feed. They camped by the silent city. The neighing of thousands of hungry and thirsty horses and mules and the bawling of oxen and no drinking water for themselves made the night a hideous nightmare.

The next morning the guides consisting of various tribes of Indians became doubtful and afraid to cross the bad lands. But General Sully decided to go forward regardless and by daybreak every man was at his post ready for the march. One young Blackfoot only 18 took the lead, the others remaining in the rear. Father said had it not been for this young Brave it is not unlikely that the whole expedition might have perished in those impenetrable wilds. However, they pushed forward, calling a temporary halt on the narrow flat composed of red burnt clay and piles of molten slag and clinkers. Here they waited for the return and report of the guides.

The general was asked what he thought of it and replied, “I think it’s Hell burnt out,” and a few minutes later “Hell come to life” as musket fire was heard one-half mile south and within a quarter of an hour the command was surrounded and thousands of hostile Sioux poured bullets and arrows from every side into the ranks, but in a short time our firearms having longer range than those of the Indians, told and they (Sioux) were beaten back with heavy losses. Among them and some of our men were wounded and killed. The command advanced and by sundown came to the banks of the Little Missouri with its welcome waters and struck camp in a little flat. The artillery was planted. The Indians this time were sure of success as they were surrounded by perpendicular walls. They soon opened with solid shot, shell and shrapnel. The casualty among Sioux warriors was terrifying to them. The naked savages were seen scrambling and leaping over steep precipices and gorges, while riderless ponies went dashing in all directions.

The sound of the heavy guns and the roaring echoes among the cliffs made the earth tremble. By dark the artillery ceased and the Indians had disappeared. Without food for their animals and a double line of guards around the camp they had no further attack that night. The next morning at daybreak the train started with every man on duty. The road building brigade was largely increased. They moved up the Little Missouri, fording it, and then entered a narrow gorge from which they emerged as though from beneath the earth on high ground. At the roughest and steepest places squads of men were stationed to assist the teams with orders to destroy every wagon that upset or was broken so as not to hinder the progress of others coming behind. The hot ashy ground rose from beneath the wheels in thick clouds of dust so that no driver could see the length of his team. The heat was so intense that livestock, from lack of food and water, began dropping by the dozens. They came to a pool of rain water but the supply was not sufficient. Many soldiers and civilians offered any money for a canteen of tepid water. They camped there that night but were attacked again in the morning more fiercely than ever from every side. The artillery was distributed evenly and shells were thrown into every shelter and place of hiding, driving the Indians into the open. The Blackfoot guide was shot through and scores of their men killed and wounded by bullets and arrows, and on either side the ground was covered with dead Sioux. And only for their long range muskets and artillery and the number of their command were prevented the expedition from being wiped out, to a man. At sundown the Indians withdrew knowing they had failed to wipe out the command.

They (the Indians) scampered and stampeded into the Bad Lands taking their families with them.

Father said a number of us, meaning civilians, climbed a rocky butte which overlooked the battlefield and they could see Indian chiefs signaling and directing the fight in all directions. The sight was one Father never forgot. He carried a field glass throughout that trip and it is in my possession now and is a relic of that trip I prize it greatly.

It was on the following day they heard the welcome sound of steamboat whistles on the Yellowstone river 10 miles west. By night they reached the river camping near the present town of Glendive and the boats that had been looking for them were laden with supplies. Those were the first boats that ascended the Yellowstone that far.

The command and emigrants were transported across the river which took three days. The entire expedition then went down 30 miles to old Fort Union, then crossed the Missouri River. From that point the military forces returned to the eastern frontier post in Minnesota and Iowa for winter quarters and many of the emigrants, discouraged by hardships went back with them and the rest of the train of citizens followed the Missouri to Milk River then to the Bear Paw Mountains across to Fort Benton and westward to Sun River crossing and the Mullan Trail along the base of the Rockies to the present site of Helena on the 21st day of September 1864, having been on the road four months. So my father was one of Helena’s first citizens. At that time it was called Last Chance. The miners having rushed there on the discovery of rich placer mining ground. These men came from the different mining camps. No doubt there are still a number who will read this book that may have known Barney Hughs one of the discoverers of Alder Gulch which started the avalanche of gold hunters. He died in 1909 having lost several fortunes. Last Chance was fully as popular and lasted longer.

It was about this time that she received her present name Helena and it was decided to leave the Hell in it and it’s very seldom that you hear it pronounced Helena. Father lived there two years before he went back. His occupation was chiefly Clerk and Recorder of Edgerton County one of the first nine counties created by the legislature which now included Lewis and Clark County and he swore in its first officers. Both father and his brother (Matthew) who accompanied him west told us many times of the hardships those pioneers endured. When flour was selling at $50 a sack, bread was a rarity. The restaurant's sign read “Meat Straight All Styles.” So they ate what Indians ate and wore tanned like them and you could hardly blame a man who had no other ties from marrying squaws as some of those young Indian women were good looking and the redeeming feature of those marriages in most cases was they lived their allotted lives together. There were very few white women in and around Helena at that time. Occasionally there would be a dance and it was needless to say that there would be no wall flowers among the ladies at those functions. If each gallant got one dance he was satisfied as that would be all that he could expect. Among the pioneers were the Jesuit Priests who tamed and converted and made useful citizens of the Indians and spiritually were the guardian angels of many discouraged and unlucky miners.

In those days letters were few and far between and it was a letter from my mother that changed Father’s plans overnight. She wrote of an epidemic of diphtheria that had taken so many children and was still raging. The mental agony my father suffered that night turned his hair white over night. He got ready to leave immediately with my uncle and two others. They rode horses to Benton and by boat down the river. He did not stop to write as a letter would not reach Mother before he got there. Their hilarious entry to their hometown Henderson caused a sensation. In an open heavy wagon, tanned like Indians with growths of beards, the first person father should see was my mother out shopping with her neighbor. The men were waving their hats and yelling “Hurrah”. Mother didn’t think it funny and said, “Just what do those rowdies mean by shouting at us?” and not until they stopped at our house and heard her name called did she realize it was father. He then settled down opened a general merchandise store for two years, when the lure for Montana and its opportunities overtook him again.

I’ll never forget the time we nearly had a battle with Indians. They spied our train in a dangerous position; that is, they could easily surround us and were doing so. Captain Davey immediately became alarmed and rushed to my father crying, “we are lost” and “what can we do”. Father called him a coward and asked him why he brought a band along, and ordered him to get out his musicians to play, which they did with all their might and it brought about the desired effect. The Indians had never heard such music and they were charmed and calmed and changed their minds about fighting and they became interested in trading or swapping as they called it. Father was so displeased with the captain’s cowardice in time of danger that he decided to quit the train and take his chances with the Indians alone so after that we traveled a few miles before or after Davy’s train.

Another incident on that trip that I remembered was when we were alone one morning we discovered that our cattle had stampeded during the night. Father immediately started with one of the men to follow their tracks and they did not return until late that afternoon. Even if oxen travel slow they had a whole night’s start to cover quite a distance. Mother kept busy at various tasks that could not be accomplished when we were traveling. She had the men roast coffee which was done in a long handled skillet over the coals. That was when coffee beans were bought green and the roasting was done over your own fireplace or in an oven.

When the men and cattle appeared in the distance the man with the coffee let out a shout. He and all of us were very glad, the man was about to throw the beans in the fire but mother stopped him. After I was old enough to realize I could see what a calamity it would have been to be stranded so far from help. So after losing a day we were slowly moving along.

And my memory goes back to one night that we failed to find good water. A man from the train came rushing on horseback and wanted to know what we intended doing and was told we would not camp until we found water. It had been a hot day and the cattle were bellowing for water. To look back to that day I am certain that father did the right thing. To have camped without water in sight was only prolonging the misery. We children went to sleep crying for water. We traveled far into the night before we found water; and we were awakened by father calling to us, “Come, children, wake up. Here is good water.” Davy’s train did not move on that night and they must have suffered for they were without water so much longer than we.

We were now nearing our destination, Helena. Most of the emigrants went on to Oregon over the Mullan trail. Some of them were stranded in the Coeur d’Alenes. Their cattle gave out, some of the people got sick and died. The government hearing of their plight sent relief.

Instead of driving into Helena we stayed on a ranch in Prickly Pear Canyon near Silver. It was called “The Priests’ Ranch” as it was owned by the Jesuit Priests of Helena and it was there that we lived our first year in Montana. Father Minetry often stopped there on his way to St. Peter’s Mission. He brought us children a lamb. Sheep were very scarce in Montana in those days. We were so delighted, he was such a frisky little play fellow. Not having no toys and playthings like children of today, we were easily satisfied. There was a little calf that my brother David trained to pull a large box. He was soon strong enough to draw us all and we soon had a trail to a knoll and made ourselves a fort to hide from Indians if they should appear. We were a happy bunch with the lamb frisking along. We spent our first Christmas there and we were wondering if Santa Claus would find us there. When our good friend Father Minetry came along a few days before we asked him about it and with a merry twinkle in his eye he said, if he didn’t see old Santa himself he would leave word with the good Sisters at St. Peter’s Mission so we wouldn’t be forgotten. And Santa came along on Christmas Eve. Mother had trimmed a lovely tree for us and while it didn’t have candles or glittering ornaments she made birds and animals and stars out of cookie dough and it looked beautiful to us, and there seemed to be a mysterious air about the place. Mother also prepared a cabin for a chapel where Father Minetry said Mass early the next morning, which we all attended and after that we got our gifts and were as happy as children could possibly be. In Father M’s package there was a prayer book for David and Rosary Beads for Susan. Because I had learned to sew there was a thimble and little scissors. The two smaller girls, Louise and Ragina, got dolls and a pretty dress for the baby, Will. That Christmas stands out in my memory as the best Christmas of all.

The only neighbor my mother had was an Indian woman who was married to a white man, but she was a kind and thrifty woman and made a good wife, and she was so neighborly. She insisted on making moccasins for us children and some of them were ornamented with beads. Mother often sent her nice things she cooked and she helped mother when she or any of us were sick. We all liked her, being an Indian didn’t seem to make any difference. Mother said she was the best neighbor she ever had.

All our cooking was done in a big fireplace. Big kettles were hung on hooks directly over the fire but the baking was done on the hearth in Dutch ovens. Mother understood the method wonderfully. Live coals were heaped around the sides and on the top and replaced with a shovel as they cooled. She seemed to know just how long to gauge the baking. Bread took the longest to bake thoroughly and she also accomplished pies, cakes, bisquits and cookies. I can still taste the delicious wild chicken, or grouse, ducks and rabbits she roasted in those Dutch ovens. We had lots of milk, butter and eggs. The vitamin lore wasn’t in existence then, people naturally knew what food was good and what was not. We all kept reasonably well and grew up strong and healthy. One commodity we did not have was lamps and kerosene. Our lights were home made candles. Not a bit of tallow was wasted. It was rendered and clarified and poured in frames for that purpose to harden. I used to watch Mother thread the tubes 6 in a bunch with wick that was fastened across the open top of the tube and run through a tiny pointed opening at the bottom. It wasn’t an even light but answered the purpose until we moved to Helena.

One day in Spring we four (David, Mary, Susan, Louise) older children decided to take a long walk and do a little exploring. Mother cautioned us about the creek that ran into Prickly Pear which was pretty swift and deep in places. We took a lunch. The time passed so quickly and we were so interested before we were aware of it the sun was getting low. David said we can’t go back the way we came as it would be dark before we reached home and then we remembered about boars having been seen along the creek and as the stream made a big bend, by crossing it we would soon be home. We began to look for a crossing and found where a big tree had fallen across it was rather high at the opposite side where we would have to make a jump to the bank. David climbed on to the log and took Louisa on his back and made it safely and Susan who was sure footed followed and when I got on the log I was afraid of the swift water running below and called out that I would fall as it made me dizzy. I was told to straddle the log which I did and slowly worked ahead. I was about half way when my skirt caught on a snag and I could not move and I cried out in terror. My Guardian Angel must have had a task keeping me from losing my hold. I don’t know what might have happened if my father had not appeared on the scene and taken me across. We were so glad he found us but he did give us a lecture that we never forgot. As we realized how easily I might have drowned.

While we still lived at that ranch Father discovered a route to Helena which would make it much shorter as it would cut out a long grade over a mountain. He kept it in mind and intended later with help to build a new road. And now we were ready to leave the Priests’ ranch us children were very sad about leaving our lamb which had grown to full size, and our Bully had grown big then too, and we never saw them again.

So it was in the Fall of 1868 that we first moved to Helena and it was not much more than a mining camp then. The business district was on Main Street and part of Clore. There was a school house about where the present court house stands. It seemed to me that all ages and sizes went there. Four of us children started to school as soon as we were settled. Father became interested in mines and mining but soon interested two men in going with him to build the short cut from “Johns” to Helena. He was out there most of the time until it was finished. They built many bridges and did much grading along the Prickley Pear Creek, and as it was a private piece of construction it was a toll road. One of the partners whose name was Johns built a house at the gate and with his family kept the station, collected the fares and served meals to travelers. Later on the government bought the road and the station to this day it is called “Johns”. After that Father resumed placer mining operations as he owned land east of Dry Gulch which is now Davis Street and from 5th to 7th Avenue inclusive. The ground was mined with hydraulic hose.

Helena had its first disastrous fire soon after we moved there which left the greater part of Main Street in ruins. It was in 1869 on October 10 that the first Sisters of Charity from Leavenworth, Kansas arrived in Helena to open a school and later on a hospital. As soon as the building was completed we were among the first pupils of St. Vincent’s Academy and I can safely say that in years to follow we helped wear down Catholic Hill going to and from school. We children had never seen Sisters before but we soon learned to love those pioneer Sisters and as we grew older we realized what hardships those fine women endured. But with toil, patience, and cheerfulness they won out. And beautiful St. Vincent’s and Sisters of today may well be thankful for the courage of its founders. At that time Father Van Corp was in charge of the Catholic congregation and mission of Helena. We knew him well. He was such a gentlemanly scholar and wonderful speaker and had scores of friends among all denominations. Later on he exchanged places with Father Paladino of St. Ignatius near Missoula. He was in charge at Helena for many years.

It was in 1870 that my Father had some cabins moved from Montana City which had seen a mining boom before Last Chance but now it was deserted and most of the cabins moved to Helena. And our first home was built from some of them.

Ours was the first dwelling east of Dry Gulch on ten lots facing north on 5th Avenue and as it were we were living in the suburbs. And we could and did keep cows and chickens and had a big garden. I don’t know where the strawberry, gooseberry and currant sets came from but everything thrived as there was an irrigation ditch near by. In 1870 Father was elected and served with credit for two terms as probate judge for Lewis and Clark County. He spoke and was conversant in several languages which was a valuable assistance in the discharge of his duties especially in probate handling of estates with other counties. He gained the reputation of dealing out justice where it was due. In one case two hard characters were given a jail sentence. They declared they would get even and they tried to later on.

During those times there were a number of lynchings that took place. The only on I saw was one morning we were going to school and saw a crowd around “Hang Mans Tree” and saw two bodies hanging from it. We had heard the story of how the night before two men had followed a rancher who had sold a load of products and he had treated the crowd and exhibited a purse of money at a saloon. The temptation was too great. They immediately rented two horses and followed the rancher and in a lonely place where he was unaware, rose up on either side and slugged and robbed him and left him for dead. Soon after this he was found and given medical aid and revived. He remembered seeing a pinto horse that one man rode and by that they were caught and hanged on April 26, 1870. This hanging was done by the Vigilantes who were law abiding men forced to protect their lives and property from a number of ruffians and dupe-dyed criminals who entered Montana during the gold rush. Their greed for another’s hard earnings was the cause of wholesale robberies and murder. And it was this state of affairs which brought about the forming of the Vigilantes, and those same gold and blood thirsty demons got their just dues. The names of those particular men I saw hanging were Mac Compton and Joe Wilson. The accompanying picture of Hand Man’s Tree was taken by Helena’s first woman photographer. On that particular occasion she got my brother David to carry her tripod. There were no taxis those days. She promised David she would take his picture which she did and he is the lone boy in the foreground. This hanging made a lasting impression on us children, more so because we used to see those men in their blacksmith shop on our way to school every morning. That tree was not so far from our house, three blocks south on the same side of the gulch. It was cut down later and we were glad to lose sight of it.

About this time one day when I came home from school and stepped in I saw my father and a man whom I recognized as Henry Brooks, a miner and friend of our family, each carrying an armful of baking powder cans. They just smiled and proceeded down a trap door going to the cellar. I looked surprised and Mother put her finger to her lips and said sh... and then told me Mr. Brooks brought his gold dust from his placer diggings near Marysville and was storing it in our cellar until he could ship it out of the country safely and Mother made me promise not to say a word to anyone as some robbers might break in and steal the gold. I was afraid and uneasy until it was removed. I imagined every noise or creak I heard at night might be robbers. Men who owned or worked placer ground had to be on the watch, especially when they made a clean up of their sluices. Road agents were continually watching to make a haul. Mr. Brooks and Brother (David) later located in Fergus County and were some of the pioneers there.

In 1872 I recall very clearly Helena’s first earthquakes. In our early geographies the pictures of earthquakes was very crudely demonstrated with big openings in the earth and houses and people tumbling in. Just to look at it made me shudder, however I reasoned childlike that those things happened in far distant lands and not in Montana and so this quake was our first experience in that line and I will write what I remember about it. My sisters and I were attending school at St. Vincent’s Academy. One class was being dismissed from an upstairs recreation room. We were going down stairs in double file when we felt the building tremble. The Sister in charge realized immediately what it was. She raised her hand for attention and said, “Stand still, there is an earthquake. Let us Pray.” She made the Sign of the Cross and said a short prayer and it was all over before we had time to cry or become frightened. The original St. Vincent’s was frame and as far as I know no damage was done. When we got home mother was outside talking to some neighbors. We told her that we had felt an earthquake and she told us of her experience. She was sitting at her sewing machine and the younger children were playing around her. At first when the sewing machine moved away she thought it was from a jolt from one of the children. She moved her chair closer and it kept moving, which frightened her and she took the children and ran outside and that was all we or my sisters knew about it. This quake took place in 1872 and it left no impression of fear. In the years to follow we never dreamed that an earthquake calamity could befall Helena. In 1873 Father bought the famous Hilger Ranch at the Gates of the Mountains on the Missouri River 18 miles north of Helena. It was one of the first ranches taken up when Father was Clerk and Recorder in 1865. The original locator was Horace Clark and it is on a historic site as the famous explorers Lewis and Clarke camped there.

It had changed hands but once when we bought it in 1867, and until it became a pleasure resort was enjoyed by our family during the summer months. On both sides of the river game was plentiful and during the game season we always had our share of deer, antelope, and mountain sheep. My brother David was a real hunter and the younger brothers soon took up the sport and delighted in camping on the trail. Father had cattle in those days and put up tons of hay. My oldest sister and I often went out and helped our men cook during haying. Every chance I got I would be out in the meadow raking hay with a gentle mare and sulky rake. My brother David was father’s right hand man in those days and when he was not at school would be on the range with the men.

In 1874 during a furious gale upper Main and Wood Street was leveled to the ground. Cinders and flaming shingles were carried and started fires in different parts of the city and everybody was busy putting out fires on their own premises. My father nearly lost his life in that fire. He had offices in the same building as the Toole Bros. Lawyers. He saw that the fire was heading in that direction and immediately began carrying valuable books and records connected with the Probate office and storing them in the fire proof cellar. He finished rescuing his valuables and as the Tooles were away at Virginia City trying some cases he undertook to save their books. He made trips back and forth and was about to leave the building. The fire had undermined and the floor broke through. He caught on to two rafters and shouted for help. Others near by rushed to his rescue and not a minute too soon as he was about overcome with smoke. This fire was the means of building better and fireproof buildings and procuring better apparatus to fight future fires.

By this time the Catholic Church on the hill was too small for the congregation. Father Palladino being in charge called a meeting and it was decided to build at once. The prominent men each gave $500 and that was sufficient to begin. The old church was moved back and the new one built on the same site and was built of brick and even in those days the best of brick was available. The firm of Kessler Bros. was manufacturing the finest quality brick. Work on the church was suspended during the freezing weather. About this time gold was discovered in the Black Hills and the gold rush (about 1875) depopulated Montana by half. This was a blow to Helena, however the building of the church went right on and on Palm Sunday, April 9th 1876 it was dedicated and it was named the Sacred Heart and Father Palladino and the congregation were justly proud of the edifice. It will be remembered that Father Palladino is the author of “Indian and White” written later in life. It is a wonderful description and authentic from every point of view, and so beautifully illustrated even now I enjoy looking over its pages as I know so many characters connected with the story. In 1876 when Philadelphia was celebrating the Centennial of the Declaration of Independence my parents decided to go and on the way visit relatives in Minnesota. They took our baby brother, N. D., and the rest of us children were to stay at the ranch with an uncle in charge. My oldest sister and I were perfectly able to cook and care for the younger children. They went to Benton by stage coach and down the river by boat.

On the way the baby became ill and by the time they reached Henderson, Minn. had developed scarlet fever and was a very sick child. They were there several weeks and after he was recovered enough to travel they decided to carry out the rest of the trip. And just then they heard that Indians were on the rampage in Montana, that they had killed two men from Helena and wounded several others who were in camping parties going through the Yellowstone Park. Soldiers rescued the injured and brought back the dead for burial at Helena. My parents started home at once and were very much relieved to find us all right, although Father left word with reliable men to be on the lookout and in case of any Indian uprising to get us to Helena immediately. In after years I knew the injured men and women. One man was shot through the face. The scar left a deep dimple in each cheek. The other was shot at close range when he raised up after being wounded to say goodbye to his wife, when she was taken captive by the Indians. The ball miraculously grazed around the skull and lodged so it could be extracted. After he recovered he wore the bullet on his watch guard. His wife was recaptured by soldiers but it was months before they were reunited.

After that raid and killing, my sister and I were more fearful of the Indians and never wanted to be alone at the ranch when we were out there. However it so happened that the men all had to leave and drive some stock some distance. We told father that we were afraid to stay alone. He assured us that there was nothing to fear. When they were gone awhile we spied something in the distance that we mistook for Indians. Our first thought was to hide but not in the house. We locked it up and ran to the meadow where a deep ditch was dug to drain the land. We thought the Indians would never look there for us. We talked over the situation while waiting for the men to return. When we heard a deep cry of a wild cat or lynx and we were nearly paralyzed with fear. Then we heard the men returning and we emerged from the ditch and called to David and told him what we had heard and he started immediately horseback to drive in the cows and then we heard a shot and when he came back he had a big lynx which was the cause of our scare and he told us we were lucky not to have encountered it as they are fierce fighters when cornered.

In 1877 we had lived in Helena 9 years and there were 9 children in our family then. One sister, Maggie, and two brothers, Joe and N. D., being added. Quite a family to cook, sew, and care for. For the younger generations who may read my story I will write how we managed.

I don’t think there were a half dozen servants in the town. Each of us children as soon as we were able and strong learned to be useful around the house. I wasn’t more than eleven when Mother fell down on her job and my brother David and I made our first bread. We had helped Mother before and knew all about the proportions and temperature, etc. and when the sponge was ready for kneading he touched me in the right spot by saying, “Girls hands are cleaner, so you had better do the kneading.” and wasn’t I proud when that bread turned out fine. At least a dozen loaves. After that I often helped and some times made it alone. My sister Susan was a natural born nurse and was a great help to mother in bathing, dressing and caring for the younger children. I often wonder how mother kept us all clothed. She was sewing constantly. Father got her a sewing machine, one of the first that reached Helena. It was very simple in construction but did the work. In those days there was no such commodity as ready-made garments for women and children. There were a few seamstresses who would do sewing by the day. Mother often would have one to help her and from them I learned to sew quite young and was very proud to be of help to Mother. Dress goods was high priced. At one time father brought home a bolt of red plaid that cost $3.00 a yard. It took his eye and he fully intended each of us girls should have a dress of it. Mother always dressed us two older girls (Susie & Mary) alike and we looked like twins but to dress us all alike she didn’t approve and she told father she would like a different color for the younger girls and she got what she wanted by going to the store with him and selected it herself. My earliest recollections of the names of material of our clothes is Moreen, De’lane Alpacca, Gingham, and All Wool goods, and Waterproof for wraps. Only Mother owned a black silk and whenever she wore it Father donned a “Preacher” similar to a Prince Albert. I often think of my own dear mother and other good pioneer women like her who shared with their husbands the burden of early days, and yet they were reasonably happy. I think they liked and appreciated their neighbors more than we of this age. Sunday was always the best after our obligations to God at Divine Services we exchanged visits with our neighbors, turn about, and were always glad to see them and the hospitality offered was genuine. Everyone was striving and bearing to the best of their knowledge. Work was honorable. There were no drones and thank God there were no snobs either. A good housekeeper was judged by the complexion of her floors and as linoleum had not made its appearance and paint was too expensive to be used on floors, those pine floors were scrubbed to a creamy color.

My sister Susan and I used to get down on our knees with a bucket between us and with brush and soap how we did scrub and considering the size of one of those rooms it didn’t take so long. We kept up a string of conversation and could laugh at almost anything. We were such chums anyway that our work was a pleasure. There were several Grand Balls during the holidays and Easter and Thanksgiving. The grown ups would take the older sons and daughters as soon as they were able to dance and being our father’s daughters we did not want for partners and how we did enjoy those occasions and they always ended with a delicious meal at midnight. For us school children there were many picnics during spring, summer and fall. We always walked as there were lovely picnic grounds within 2 or 3 miles in any direction. Someone would take a wagon to carry the lunch baskets. There would always be some of our teachers along so no harm would befall us, and no child stray off or fall into a creek. In winter there would be school entertainments, and the good sisters of St. Vincent’s spared no pains in training their pupils in music, song and drama which gave much joy to the parents. At one time there were four of us girls taking music lessons, consequently our names appeared on the programs often. I wonder if our present younger generation can imagine themselves existing without a library for reading matter, or information on any subject or study and also fiction. There was quite a while before we had such a convenience. Father subscribed to a big weekly, the Boston Pilot, and it was the only reading outside of school literature that my sisters and I had or enjoyed. The Pilot kept up with the current news of the world and also several continued stories in which the heroes and heroines were always good and brave and there was no reason why we couldn’t imitate the latter. I know that I did, and the reading of that wholesome weekly Pilot had much to do with the dislike I always had for sensational fiction. And going back to Helena’s infancy, conditions were improving. Other schools and churches were being built. I remember the first flower and pleasure garden north of town near Rodney Street. It had a dancing pavilion and was very popular on Sundays. I also remember the first hot house and brewery. And the first theatre “Sawtelle“ where the daughter of the manager took the child’s part at night and attended the Sisters school by day. “The Child of the Regiment” was the first play I saw in a theatre. It was in 1877 the first Catholic Bishop arrived in Helena. He was Bishop O’Connor from Omaha. He administered Confirmation on Sunday June 10 in the church of the Sacred Heart to a large class of children and many adults.

It was in January 1878 that my youngest sister, Rose Esther, was born and she was as welcome as the flowers in May. And all honor to the little German midwife who made her entry quietly without any excitement and we wouldn’t know that anything unusual was happening. She would come and wait on Mother and infant for 10 days and would be ready for the next call. I don’t think that even the celebrated Dr. DeFoe could have more confidence placed in him than mother had for the little German midwife.

With the driver there were 13 of us, 10 children, Mother, Father and driver, but we were quite comfortable as those coaches were roomy, and owing to the fact that it was chartered there would have been several more passengers put on. For some reason the drivers would always put clean straw in the bottom as in winter it would be warmer and in summer cooler for the feet. It was under that straw that the gold bars were put. Father had a leather belt made to carry the gold and wore it whenever we were making a change at stations. The trip was uneventful with the exception of an Indian scare a few days before which was the cause of the absence of white women cooks at the stations but we fared well and we drove into Onida station on time and we children had our first view of a railroad or cars. A few minutes when we were getting on the train the two would be road agents rode up. Their horses were covered with lather. Father took a second look to be sure and they saw that he recognized them. All this time non of us knew a thing about those robbers and we were interested in now sights and surroundings. Those men fully intended catching up to us in some lonely spot before we reached civilization. They must have realized why they bungled the job, and that Father had mislead them about the time of our departure from Helena. When we arrived at Ogden we took rooms near the station. Mother favored going right on that

night but Father said we all needed a good night’s sleep. He really wanted to see what those robbers would dare. He gave a description to the police. We stayed until the next day. But that night they got into my brother’s room through a window over a porch. It had been left open on account of the heat and the boys being heavy sleepers did not waken. The robbers must have realized they were not in Father’s room so they rifled the boys’ clothing and left and made no other attempt to locate Father’s room. The next morning the boys woke early and they decided they would get out and buy some fruit and to their dismay found they were penniless and came at one to report their loss, and owned up that they had left the window open, and instead of a reprimand Father told us how we had been followed and how lucky we were to get by. And we never heard or saw them again. We were also lucky that we did not go on that first night as that train was derailed and many people injured. We saw what was left of the wreckage that next day. One strange sight going through Nevada was a heard of crickets that infested a certain part. Looking out of the car windows it would make us dizzy there were so many that the ground would have the appearance of moving and as we stopped at the stations the rails were so slippery that the train would move very slowly for fear of derailing.

The crickets were along our route only a day and we were very glad to leave them behind us. After that the scenery was beautiful and we soon arrived at San Jose, California where we had relatives, the Lenzen family, who met us. After resting a few days we were shown the sights of the city and surrounding country. As we intended staying awhile Father rented a furnished house. Among the sights that interested us most was a century plant at the Santa Clara College. It was in blossom and we were told it was planted when the mission was first established. In the meantime Father was scouting around with the intention of buying. He was almost tempted to buy a fruit farm but after hearing what work was

connected with such an industry he decided to wait until he had seen the rest of the coast. He made a flying trip through the northern part of the state and through Oregon and part of Washington. The latter seemed the best to him. And when he came back he reported his trip. We children had become homesick for Montana so Father promised us an ocean voyage along the coast to Portland and we were thrilled over such an adventure and another way of travel. We said goodbye to our relatives and new friends and left by rail to San Francisco where we would be for several days as we intended taking passage on the Great Republic but found that she was not making another voyage to Portland. We then decided to take the next steamer out which was the George Elder, not nearly so large, but was a well-built boat and carried several hundred passengers. The day and hour was set for our departure. Father left us at the landing which was not the Ferry of today and for some reason that I never heard of he postponed taking his gold bars to the mint. There was no one in sight that he had ever known. The gentlemanly official said, sorry but you will have to be identified. Father rushed around trying to see a familiar face and had about given up as it was getting time for embarking. When from a distant part of the building someone called, “Hello, Judge Hilger. Where did you come from?” and he recognized an old acquaintance and the official smiled and said step right up sorry to have kept you waiting. In the meantime we were at our wits ends. Passengers were going aboard when he arrived. I’ll never forget my first impression of San Francisco (1873), it was far from good. The noise of the horses hoofs and wagons on the cobblestone pavements was terrible to us. Although the racket eased up late at night it would start again by daybreak. The trolleys were a curiosity to us, climbing up and down the steep hills but we couldn’t be tempted to ride on them. So we left San Francisco and were on our way again. We had been told not to eat breakfast that morning as the chances for getting seasick would be less.

However, waiting to long for Father to return we got hungry and bought and ate some oranges. All went well until after we had passed the Golden Gate and struck rough water. I will not dwell on its effect as anyone who has not experienced seasickness would not know what I was speaking about and on the other hand, anyone who has ever had it would rather forget it. Anyway it took me 40 years to overcome the dislike for oranges, but will add that I finally learned to like and relish them. Father made us comfortable on deck and had our meals served there. The day after and the following night we encountered a terrific storm. The captain told us he had been up and down the coast for many years but never experienced such a storm. One mast was bent to the breaking point. The storm subsided as we neared the Columbia Bar and we made it safely and I’ll never forget as we were going through. A sailor from either side near the front would measure the depth and each in turn would sing out the number of fathoms. As we neared Astoria a band was playing. It was a welcome for Senator Mitchell of Oregon who was one of the passengers. We then sailed up to Portland and there we changed to smaller boats and railroad to Walla Walla. We had fully decided in the meantime to go back to Montana and us children were longing to go. As soon as we arrived in Walla Walla we heard that diphtheria was at its worst in the city and surrounding country. Father decided not to tarry longer than possible. He left us in a new furnished house thinking it safer than a public hotel. While he and my brother David left us to buy horses and a traveling outfit. Also a band of sheep which he intended driving across the Coeur d’Alenes. We then heard that the Great Republic did make another trip and was foundered on the Columbia Bar. All sorts of rumors followed the

disaster, among them that the boat was condemned and was sunk for the insurance. I can’t remember the verdict, but she was loaded with freight for merchants and was a complete loss. The sinking of the boat took place quickly and no lives were lost in the transfer to lifeboats to Astoria. Passengers were not allowed to save any luggage and all was lost. We were glad to have escaped the disaster but when Father came back in less than a week he found us down with that dreaded diphtheria and the same night our little sister, Regina (Jennie) 14 years old, died. And this was our first great sorrow and it was so sad leaving her behind. Our physician advised us to get out of the city and camp and brace up for our trip. We were lucky in recovering, as many children were taken during that epidemic.

We were soon able to go on when we arrived at Spokane Falls near where Father bought the band of sheep.

At that time there was only a lumber mill and he could have bought the whole city for a few hundred dollars but that was no temptation. Instead of Pikes Peak or Bust it was Montana or Bust. Father had hired a guide who owned pack and riding ponies. As soon as we had everything assembled we presented quite a caravan and were ready to cross the Coeur d’Alenes.

That Christmas eve my brother David gave us a happy surprise by walking in on us. He had sold the sheep at Spokane Falls as Father had advised him and crossed that terrible divide in the dead of winter with a trusty mare and a guide and also the price of those sheep with him and could not deposit it until he reached Deer Lodge. So we spent a much happier holiday than we expected as we hadn’t heard a word from David from the time he left us at Missoula Ferry and Father was very much worried but there were no mail routes across the Coeur d’Alenes and it would have taken much longer to write or return the way we left Helena. When we left Helena Father rented his big ranch to a sheep man and to get possession of it again he bought the band of sheep so we had the pleasure of ranch life during the summer months for several years.

It was during the fall of 1879 that Father had our last home on 6th Ave. built. The basement of that house was built of the stones washed out of his placer property. It had a porch around two sides and it was there that we girls entertained our girl and boy friends. Originally the house was on a level with the street. Later on the street was graded several feet and Father had a stone wall built across the front lots. And after 6th Ave. became a prominent thoroughfare the street was lowered again so that the old home was quite prominent and to this day the place has happy recollections connected with it and is one of the old land marks of Helena.

In 1880 the orphans that had hitherto been sheltered and cared for in connection with St. John’s Hospital needed larger quarters. After the question was brought up Father Paladino who was still in charge of the Catholic congregation aimed to raise a sufficient fund for a start as it was decided to build a home in Prickly Pear Valley with ground sufficient for play and gardens. It was decided to give an operetta and “Esther the Beautiful Queen” was selected and immediately a cast was chosen. The Catholic Choir boasted of several fine voices and they were assigned some of the leading parts. As Helena in general was noted for its musical talent and as the home would be for any orphan of the state the leading singers of the city offered their assistance. It took several months before the operetta was ready for production. An expert theatrical man took charge of the stage and acting and we had a fine musical director and a chorus of 100 children were beautifully trained and from start to finish it was a perfect and beautiful performance. It was given 2 nights and was most successful from a financial stand point. And all who gave a helping hand to this work for charity derived much pleasure throughout the rehearsals. I took the part of Zerish and that name clung to me for years. It was that same fall after we had been to the ranch all summer, Father came to town a week before and when we arrived he surprised us with a beautiful new Henry F. Miller piano. We had sold our first one when we had left for our trip around the coast. We were wishing we had another but couldn’t until we had a permanent place and room for one, so we were very happy over the gift. That piano has been in our family ever since. It figured in many happy gatherings and reunions and weddings and my parents silver and golden wedding anniversaries. Being the oldest girl it was given to me. (In recent years I had it shipped here (San Francisco) and it is an heirloom that I prize very much. In fact our apartments wouldn’t seem like home without it.)

Going back to Helena in 1880 and 1881 we were still without a railroad although work was going on steadily. There were still many miles to cover and while we were waiting we made our own pleasures and pastimes. Many were the serenades given to friends at birthdays and other anniversaries. It didn’t take a week planning them either. A luncheon would be provided by the serenaders and a hint given to one of the household with instruction to keep the one to be serenaded at home. We would gather beneath the window and warble some touching song. “Norrah Lee” always comes to my mind when I recall those days. And immediately the doors and windows would open and we were received most cordially. And a merry evening would follow. There were any number of parties given by nearby ranchers. Mostly at schoolmates homes. Father did not approve of those parties and dances because of the cold drive and returning home before daybreak. We had our different girl friends tell of the jolly time they had and we thought we were missing out. So it happened that Father was away at the ranch and we had a special invitation in person of a schoolmate’s husband who was instructed to bring us. We coaxed Mother and she consented to let us go, after the man promised to see us out and back safely. With us he took the musician a piano player and a fiddler. So all was merry and a fine sociable bunch, no liquor in evidence and for that reason the fiddler who was in the habit of fortifying the inner man occasionally about midnight in the middle of a quadrille keeled over in a fit and strange to say there wasn’t a flask in the whole crowd. Someone was rushed on horseback to a distant neighbor for liquor. The man was removed to a cabin and as soon as the liquor was given him he slept, but the dance went on merrily. The piano player made enough music to keep our feet going. A most delicious meal was served and toward daybreak we started home. The fiddler had recuperated sufficiently to go also. We told Mother all about it and asked her not to tell Father. However he knew all about it before he got back as one young man we met at the party had occasion to drive some stock around by our ranch and stayed over night and of course he told Father he met us at the party in the Valley and all about the fit the fiddler threw. After Father got back the first thing he said was I heard that you finally went to a party in the Valley and now you will understand better why I don’t approve of them. That was all he said and we were very thankful and glad.

And were we surprised shortly after that episode to get an invitation from a schoolmate at Walkerville to make her a visit. She had married a mining man and she was living near his work. Both Father and Mother gave their consent as they knew we would be in good hands.

We were soon ready to go. It was a full day’s ride by coach. We were at the last station near Butte when our friends met us with a carriage, and throughout our stay of 10 days were delightfully entertained. It was one round of dinner parties, shows, and dances and that visit was one of the bright spots of my girlhood. We returned by the same coach route. The coach was packed that day. My sister who was subject to seasickness rode on top with the driver. Soon there were several men passengers added, and very soon one of them passed around a flask. All had a drink except the driver and my sister. And it was the owner of the flask who was treating again and in a fit of gallantry offered it to the lady. She thanked him and immediately dashed it on a pile of rocks along the roadside. There was an instant lull and then an undertone of repressed chuckling by all but the owner of the flask who relieved himself of profane words. My sister said, “I am sorry that had to happen,” and the driver said “I am glad, before long they would have been rolling off.” And we got home safely and when we told Father of that episode he said she was taking chances, while some men were harmless while imbibing others are fighters. She calmly said, “I just wanted to get rid of that bottle.”

And just a word about the early stage coach drivers. They were all good reliable handy men and a woman or children were safe in his care. I recall a ride from Helena to Boulder. It was after Susan was married. She lived there and during the holidays I went to visit her. It was 30 below zero when I started and I was warmly dressed with a heavy coat and a Dolman over it with leggins and overshoes. I was the only passenger I soon began to get cold and colder. When my feet became numb I took off my overshoes and sat on my feet. When we reached the first station where he changed horses he opened the coach door and asked if I was all right. I asked if there was a fire as I was dreadfully cold and he said, “You bet” why didn’t I shout sooner. I don’t know if I ever was near a fire that felt so good. They rubbed my feet and hands until they tingled with circulation. When we were ready to start the driver said, “You are going to sit up with me and if you get cold again you will have to get down and I’ll whip up the horses and you will have to run until you are warmed up again,” but I had no more trouble. The weather moderated and the time passed quickly with some one to talk to and I got to my destination and home again safely.

While I am reminiscing here is another episode. For a while Father had a load of groceries hauled occasionally from Fort Benton. I knew the teamster who owned the outfit. It was near time for him to arrive and Father was needed at the ranch and took Mother along.

He told me he would have a check to pay Bowman, the teamster, which was in the neighborhood of $300. Father left in a hurry and forgot the check and the groceries arrived. I didn’t know what to do. The man had to start back the next day. I didn’t know my father’s bankers. I asked the business man who knew them and myself to step into the bank and introduce me. I realized I was doing something unusual and imagine my relief when the banker said, “Your need no introduction “Zerish! I still remember you in the operetta of Queen Esther.” When I told him the favor I was asking he said your father’s daughter can draw any amount she needs so I was profusely thankful and paid Bowman. And when Father got back a few days later he asked immediately if he came and what I did about it and when I told him he was glad I had used my brains to do the right thing. My brother David was the first to break the home ties and start out for himself. He and several others were lured to the lands of Fergus County which was being taken up. That was before buffalo were extinct, and he had his first experience shooting and hunting them. He brought down a number. He sent Father one of his first robes that he had an old Indian woman tan and in colors she designed an Indian village and hunting grounds and it was a work of art and highly appreciated. He also sent Mother a bunch of seasoned buffalo tongues which we all enjoyed. About this time Father conceived the idea of running a boat through the Gates of the Mountains. He had made a study of Lewis and Clark’s explorations. Will and Joe were now nearly grown and with Father explored the canyon and found everything just as described and in addition discovered a number of wonderful sights not mentioned by the explorers. They thought then that nothing but flat boats would answer as in places the river was too shallow. Father was anxious for others to see and enjoy the grandeur of that canyon. So he had two flat boats made in Helena and hauled out to the river and then bolted together. It had copper bottoms and furnished with life preservers. It looked safe and was steered down and towed back. Any number of people took a trip down the canyon the first season and marveled at its grandeur. Among the sight seers were ex-president Harrison and his wife and daughter. They spent a night at our country home and enjoyed everything and were most delightful people to meet. Senator Vest of Missouri was another tourist that we enjoyed, also a nobleman from abroad and two sisters. I still have an old autograph album with many names in it that takes me back in memory to those happy days in our summer home on the Missouri River. After the first season’s trial Father decided he would not feel satisfied until he could have a steam boat built to navigate those waters. It was in 1883 that the first construction train on the Northern Pacific pulled into Helena. Quite a number of people went down to the building used as a depot to see the train and on the following 4th of July Helena celebrated the coming of the railroad to the city. The driving of the Golden Spike too place September 8, 1883 and that event marked the completion of the railroad. It was also that year that Bishop Brundele was appointed administrator of Montana and the first Catholic Bishop of Helena and soon after a residence was erected for his use. And the site selected was between the Church of the Sacred Heart and St. John’s Hospital. With the transfer of the mission to the new Bishop Helena had ceased to be a residence of the Society of Jesus. However, the new diocese being destitute of secular clergy the Jesuits still remained for some years after under the service of the new ordinary.

In due time with the advent of the railroad Helena was treated to its first circus. There were many children like us who were about grown who had never seen one. And for that matter many older people who came west from small villages had not ever seen a circus either, and everybody went regardless, old or young, and felt satisfied that they had gotten their money’s worth. Immediately any number of boys put up turning bars and were confident with practice to do likewise. I guess the circus was a financial success as they returned frequently. Father had a vacant lot where the circus ads were posted and for that we got free passes.

And in the meantime Helena and Montana in general was growing. In 1888 Montana was admitted to statehood. In 1890 her official census was 132,159 whites. Lewis and Clark County with a mixture of European nationalities and sprinkling of African and Chinese races which impart to our population a somewhat cosmopolitan character, Helena was growing steadily. Any number of beautiful homes graced the city. Good schools both grammar and High and every religious denomination owned a church and we who grow up with her and loved her and were justly proud when she was called Queen City of the Rocky Mountains. By this time Montana was noted not only for her gold, silver, and copper mines but also for its hot springs of sulfur and other medicinal properties in various parts of the state among them, Boulder Hot Springs, half way between Helena and Butte. The Alhambra Hot Springs between Helena and Boulder. The waters of these two springs are wonderful for rheumatism. In later years I have gone there hardly able to navigate and in a couple of weeks go home all limbered up. The accompanying illustration of Stillman, the man and water that made Alhambra famous. There is also a spring just west of Helena, the Broadwater. When the buildings were erected itt had the largest covered swimming pool and plunge in America. It was a popular resort, well built and artistic, as it was only a few minutes ride by street car. It was especially enjoyed in hot weather.

Now the pioneer days are passing and so far I have clung to facts as I remember them. For those who have followed my story no doubt would be interested in this big Hilger family. By this time four of us were happily married. My sister Susan first to a young merchant of Boulder, Mont.. There were lovely festivities and they made their home at Boulder. My brother David next married Christine Fergus, a daughter of a Fergus County pioneer and the wedding took place at the bride’s home. My marriage followed 3 years later to a young Canadian professor and he was my brother-in-law’s brother. After becoming an American citizen he went into partnership with his brother. We were married at the Cathedral and our wedding festivities were at the ranch home. And our first home was at Boulder. Louisa next to E. P. Chandler, a wood grower of Fergus. After their marriage at Helena their festivities took place at the ranch home. These marriages made quite a gap at the Helena home, however we all visited often and enjoyed happy reunions. There were still 3 boys and two girls at home and Mother and Father had plenty of help. My sister Susan after 7 years of married life died very suddenly leaving four small children. This was a sad blow to us. Her husband followed 7 months later which added to our grief. My mother adopted the infant, Gus, and my husband and I the three others, 2 boys, Eddie & Lloyd, and a girl, Florence. My husband had an offer and accepted it to take charge of a mining company at Burke, Idaho in the Coeur d’Alenes. He left the children and I at Boulder until he could find comfortable quarters for us which was five months later. My father came to help me pack, store and ship my goods. And before I left for our new home at Burke I visited at my old home and was then ready to leave. I was the first to go out of the state to live and it was also my first trip out of Montana by train. My husband met us at Spokane Falls as the rail road across the divide had not been finished. We lived there 7 years. For a mining town we had every comfort and help. I made three visits home during that time. All went well until the miners union started and began dictating wages and hours. I kept a diary of those seven years. I hate to recall the experiences we lived through. It was one of the bitterest strikes in mining history, with destruction of mills and concentrators. It finally calmed down. My husband had much to do in the pacifying of the miners, as the mine owners were not always at hand. He took a terrible chance but finally won their confidence. But we moved to Mullan where there was no union trouble and he took charge of the Gold Hunter for two years until it was destroyed by fire. And again we moved to Wallace where he had charge of the Morning Mine. We were there only a short time when he was stricken with nervous prostration and ended with paralysis and ten days after died, and I was grief stricken over the loss of my fine good husband. With the help of good friends I immediately took his remains back to Helena. Two Bro. Elks and two AOUW accompanied us, and my brother Will accompanied me back and helped me pack and move back to Helena and with my family lived at the old home a number of years. It took time to adjust myself to my burden and bear my grief as a true daughter of pioneers.

My sister Margaret was married while I was away to Ralph E. DeCamp and several years later my brother Will to Ellen O’Brien (May 1900). The latter couple left immediately for Alaska on a wedding trip from which Will never returned as he was drowned in Lake Bennett and his body was never recovered. And at the same time I lost my sister Susan’s little girl, Florence, so again we were doubly saddened. My chief aim was to get my children along at school those days and they were doing fine. My brother Joe was next to get married and a year later N. D. also. They married sisters, Carrie and Bertha Sperry, born and raised near the Gates of the Mountains at Beartooth. My book is filled with reminiscences. I often think of this one. It was during Teddy Roosevelt’s term that I had occasion to see and remember him. My brothers always spoke of him as Teddy so I got in the habit. He came through Helena and there was to be a big parade in his honor. And the line of march was past our home on 6th Ave.. Every house was being decorated and I helped Father to decorate ours. He was a Democrat as far back as I can remember but he knew how to honor our president regardless of his party. Roosevelt was a great admirer of big families and children and during the parade I had my children with me on the lawn, and as his carriage was passing he spied us and he stood up and waved silk hat again and again as he bowed. I felt very honored. What I remembered most about him, one could never be in doubt as to whether he was smiling or not because it was such a generous smile.

My youngest sister, Rose Esther, was the last one to be married, to Dr. Elmer DeWitt Nash, June 1902. It was a home wedding and they occupied the old home for several years. It was in 1903 that Bishop Brundell, first Bishop of Montana, died at Helena. I knew him well, our wedding was the first real marriage he performed and was pleased to make the ceremony a Pontifical High Mass. His death and funeral saddened me as it brought back to mind my happiest days. Father Day took charge until Bishop Carroll was appointed and it was the latter who built the beautiful St. Helena’s Cathedral. I had about made up my mind to move to Lewistown.

A daughter, Theo, and a nephew (Eddie Daugherty) had gone on before. When I was stricken with inflammatory rheumatism and was laid up for several weeks at St. John’s Hospital taking vapor baths. As soon as I was able to walk I began preparations for a move. Father helped me and oversaw the transfer of my household goods. It was a hard move as there was a transfer at Lombard to another railroad and a stop over night, and I was glad when that was over, as the twinges in my hands and feet were very painful. Our freight had arrived and was already unloaded. After a few weeks I bought a cottage higher up on the bench away from the stream and it was better for my rheumatism. Everything looked encouraging. At that time Lewistown was a thriving little city, the center of a grain market. I had relatives there and a number of friends. The younger girls started to school and the older girls at work in my brother’s Insurance and Land Office and First National Bank so I was contented and glad I had courage to move there.

It was in 1908 that the Hauser Dam 18 miles east of Helena broke which carried destruction with it. Especially at our ranch home at the Gates of the Mountains. It was a miracle that my brother N. D.’s family who were living there were not caught. N. D. had gone to town that day and two men were digging a well for father just outside the ranch on the bench. The man down below heard the roar first as sound carries faster in the ground. He shouted up to hoist him quickly and just as he got out they were attracted by the noise of a flock of sea gulls flying through the upper canyon and to their horror saw a two foot wave of water coming down. They knew what had happened and they ran to the house calling my sister-in-law that the dam broke. She picked up her two children and a blanket and ran to a hay rack with horses attached. In the meantime a 10 foot wave came down. They all jumped on the rack and drove the horses on a gallop out of the corral and reached the bench not a minute too soon when a wall of water 40 feet high rushed down and in striking the mountain’s gate the water piled up as it couldn’t possibly all get through. So it backed over the meadow, carried the house and buildings and haystacks around and when the waters began to recede the strangest of all was that it floated back and settled within a few inches of its former foundation. The steamer Rose which was safely anchored on the river bank met her doom. In the meantime the folks in Helena also heard what was happening. N. D. on horseback made those 18 miles in less time than ever before hoping his family were warned in time to escape. My father followed in a surrey to be of any assistance. Other teams and men followed not knowing but expecting the worst.

The rescued placed themselves so they could be seen 2 miles up the road and whoever came first would know they were safe. When Father reached home and relieved Mother and sister of their terrible vigil and all were thankful that no lives were lost. Father sat right down and wrote David and I all about the catastrophe and it must have been terrible. My father’s valuable papers and diary of crossing the plains with Sully were in a desk in the house when it floated around the meadow. The records were damaged some but not destroyed and a most remarkable circumstance; one of the men at the dam who had lost all his clothes and possessions went down to the ranch to see the damage that had been done there and made the remark that he didn’t mind the loss of anything very badly if he could have saved his reading glasses and some one remarked there is a pair of glasses on that shelf try them on. He picked them up and was astonished and said these are mine. See my name on the case. And so it was - in floating down the river they must have struck an open window of the house and when the water went down rested on the shelf. And another laughable incident was a hen setting on her eggs on top of a hay stack when it floated around the meadow. She stayed on her nest regardless and was discovered later and rescued.

After this calamity both Father and Mother were not so well. They spent their leisure between the city home and ranch. Father had taken up a homestead in latter life just outside of the ranch holdings to prevent others from crowding them. They also made many trips to Alhambra which they both enjoyed and visited us at Lewistown. During their last years I made a number of trips home and stayed weeks at a time when either of them were ailing. They were always cheerful and looked on the bright side of everything, although they bore some poignant sorrows. “But into each life some rain must fall; some days be dark and dreary”. Her death was a shock to us all as it was so sudden while at Alhambra she had a heart attack without any forewarning or suffering at the age of 72 on May 31, 1910. She went to her reward peacefully and beautifully just as she had lived. We were all present at her funeral which took place from the Sacred Heart’s Church. The eulogy delivered was most consoling and the highest tribute given her that a beautiful and well spent life deserves. She left a void in the old home that nothing could fill. Father was lost and could not content himself anywhere. He made a trip to the coast to Rogue River, Oregon and San Jose, Calif. to visit relatives and made several trips to Lewistown and he had several serious illnesses at Helena and each time I was with him until he recovered. In 1912 I filed on a homestead 28 miles from Lewistown near Armells. I had a cabin built and established residence and proceeded to enjoy the inconveniences that accompanied homesteading. My land adjoined my nephew Eddie Dougherty’s and he and I swapped work. I cooked for him and he looked after my improvements which meant fencing and raising of a crop which the law required. It was the following spring that I made a hurried trip to Helena. Father needed me and after spending 2 weeks with him until he was better again and the night before I was to leave for Lewistown I fell on the icy streets of Helena and sprained my ankle badly, so I was detained 2 weeks longer and returned home on crutches and with a daughter went out to my homestead to put in time. It was in Aug. 1913 that we were all called to Helena to attend Father’s last illness which was of 10 day duration. He suffered much but was conscious to the end and passed away peacefully at St. John’s Hospital at the age of 82 on Aug. 12th 1913. His funeral like Mother’s was impressive and sad. Both times the Sacred Heart’s Church was filled with sorrowing friends and many pioneer friends were present and the eulogy and tribute paid him was beautiful and comforting. The Helena papers gave a fine account of his wonderful career. (The following from The Helena Daily Independent). And it is needless to say both he and Mother were greatly mourned and missed by all who ever knew them and after that Helena never seemed the same. I immediately went back to my homestead and remained late that fall until I proved up. I had the pleasure if you can call it that, of cooking for a threshing crew with the assistance of another homesteader and who was also a good cook and a gentleman as well. We managed to feed a hungry bunch for three days. There is always a humorous side to every condition. I was told not to feed the crew on angel’s food, ambrosia pudding, or any dish that looked or sounded like Divinity as they needed substantial filling. One thing especially appealed to my sense of humor. In setting the table for the first meal one cup was placed without a saucer. I asked what was his idea. My helper said, “The big engineer is going to sit there and he is not going to have a saucer to pour his coffee into.” Just the look on his face when he told me that, showed how he detested such table manners. I made my exit when the big engineer came in as I knew I would laugh. But going back to that year’s crop. I couldn’t lift a shock of wheat that was grown on that bench. I still own my homestead land. Have had several oil scares in the vicinity with drilling of wells. In each case money petered out before the sands were reached. Maybe the next well will be the charm and the drillers have more backing. After proving up I was through with homesteading for the time being and with a daughter took a month’s vacation to the coast. We happened to be in Seattle when President and Mrs. Wilson made a visit to the coast. We saw them in a parade close enough so I always remembered their faces.

We went down to Rogue River and Medford, Oregon and visited a sister, Louise Chandler, and family and returned recuperated. It was soon after that a number of events occurred. When we left Helena the elder of the boys, Lloyd, I adopted remained there in the employ of Kessler Bros. He married and had two sons, Ed (this is Imo’s husband) & Earl, when he met with an untimely death (December 17, 1915) in an accident.

His brother, Eddie, and I and one daughter attended the funeral. Then the following spring my daughter, Constance was married to Joseph M. Schmit, a civil engineer of Lewistown. It was a quiet church wedding owing to the recent death of my nephew. The young couple went on a wedding trip to California to wind up at the San Diego Fair. And it was shortly after that, that war was declared. The contingent of drafted men and volunteers that left Lewistown and Fergus Co. was the largest considering the population of any county in the Union. Red Cross workers immediately started. We all had a hand at that. Also the restrictions in foods; viz. white flour, sugar and a number of wartime necessities were observed. As my young son-in-law left with the engineer replacements it was a time for worrying and hoping and praying. The armistice was a Godsend, and then the boys came home. A number were missing and some were maimed.

Oil discovered in Fergus Co. and Lewistown was the nearest city so she was the center of excitement. As the news reached the outside world. The rush was on. Every private building or store in town was occupied and rents went soaring and property exchanged hands, I had a splendid offer for my house and sold it. We had intended before the oil boom struck us to sell at the first opportunity as it was too much work to keep it up. My health was not so good those days and we all needed to relax a little after office hours. So then we had a move on our hands, to temporary quarters until we could get into apartments. And this was a good time for me to spend a few months in Calif. with a sister, Rose Esther, and her daughter, Helen, and son, Elmer, at Culver City. They were busy with music lessons and school and the time passed pleasantly. We went to Los Angeles once a week and while they were taking their music lessons I enjoyed going through stores and shops. I always connect that winter with Myrna Loy whom I knew as Myrna Williams. She and my niece, Helena Nash, were constant companions. Myrna was taking dancing lessons then and my niece violin lessons and were going to the same high school together and were a happy pair. That Thanksgiving we had a community dinner together. The two families and myself and a couple of friends. As we all had been Helena people before so we had much in common and enjoyed the occasion very much. In the years to follow I watched Myrna’s career closely and was very happy when she made good.

My niece, Helen, also made good on the violin and conducts a large class in Los Angeles. I did not like the climate there as the extremes in temperature was too great for comfort. On that Christmas Eve it rained and I was on the brink of being homesick and I had never been away from my family on Christmas Eve and day. But a wonderful package from home brought happiness and cheer as it contained a real baby tree with our gifts attached, every thing in order and nothing crushed or out of place. The baby tree made a big hit with us all and every door in the apt. was left ajar to hear the beautiful Christmas carols on the violin and piano. And a letter from my family and their dinner guests that followed was a message of cheer and of best wishes and the joy they had while they were preparing my Christmas box from Montana. After my winter in California one daughter came to accompany me home and shortly after my return we moved to apartments where we lived several years. So after I bought a new Dodge sedan we took a trip to Yellowstone Park. We went by way of White Sulfur Springs and entered the western gate. The roads were not in as good condition as nowadays especially after rains. As the distance was far between stations we were provided with a coverall, a jack, and shovel and we had occasion to use them several times and in the absence of male help we could take off a tire and replace it. However we always were appreciative and thankful for any assistance we received. But to our trip. The inconveniences we encountered were nothing in comparison to the wonders we saw. The beauty and grandeur of the Yellowstone Falls seen from the top of the canyon is indescribable. Seen from a road built so tourists can get a better view. It can also be seen from below. As one is always wrapped in wonder and can never find mere words to express the fairy land beauty of it. A wonderful hotel is nearby and can accommodate throngs. A few miles farther on is a wonderful lake at the highest elevation. As we drove slowly by and around the various kind of geysers, each with a name that would correspond with the color of its effusions. The Fire Hole River was most fascinating to watch the tiny electric light bulbs in the deep water going on and off constantly. The crowning beauty and magnitude of Old Faithful Geyser that has been going on for ages. At night the electric lighting of the geyser presents a most spectacular sight. And last but not least the grand Old Faithful Inn. Words fail to describe the rustic grandeur of the building. It all must be seen to be appreciated. We got a number of Kodak snaps of partially tamed bear. They are not supposed to be vicious but can not be fed from a box or bag from a car as they will climb right after the food. One daughter always went right out and handed food or tidbits than drop the box before them and then jump in the car and drive away quickly. We returned by the southern gate, through Gallatin Valley, spent several days at a dude ranch and then to Helena where we took in the state fair and then back to Lewistown. We were always glad we made that trip together because soon after that my family began to scatter. Another sister, Louise Chandler who lived in Fergus Co. for many years left with her husband, Edward, and family and settled in Oregon. After a few years trial they sold out and returned to Lewistown. Mr. Chandler died (1923) shortly after their return. He was well known and liked and was an able man, and served as Senator from Fergus Co. for two years.

After the oil excitement calmed down and a few people made wealthy. We all remember what followed the collapse of so many banks throughout the state was a calamity and we all realized what a commodity a bank is, after its doors are closed to the public. A checkbook was of little avail for the time being and the federal bank examiners took charge. However we lived through it safely. In 1923 my brother David was appointed librarian of the historical library at Helena. This was in recognition of his knowledge of all events pertaining to Montana’s earliest history to date and he was fully capable of taking charge of his new duties. But this meant a change of residence. After 40 years of continuous residence in Fergus Co. it was a task to pull up stakes. He was one of the first locators on land 25 miles north of Lewistown and was a woolgrower for 12 years and was married and lived there until he moved to Lewistown and became interested in banking and commercial business. And for four years was Register of the Federal Land Office, also was a member of the 8th legislative assembly and owned a beautiful home. So it was hard for both he and his wife, Christine (Fergus), to leave their many friends. But it was not long before they were at home in their new surroundings and my brother’s return to the home of his youth and the lure of the ranch at the Gates of the Mountains revived in him the desire to follow Father’s footsteps and again make a pleasure resort of the historical place.

By this time (1923) our little trailblazer, Theo Dougherty, decided to take leave. In each family there are always one or several who have a wanderlust for new places and scenes. She had forgotten her trip to San Francisco in company with her sister and two companions to the 1915 Exposition. So the time was ripe to make a change. So with some fine recommendations in her purse and enough cash to tide her over in the event that she failed to get work. When she arrived at San Francisco she luckily met a special insurance agent whom she had met and done business with before who introduced her and he gave such a glowing account of her capabilities that she was hired and has held her position ever since. She got lonesome after six months and persuaded her younger sister, Angela, to join her and she also was lucky in securing a position with I. Magnin and is holding it ever since. By this time (1924) my health required a change to a lower altitude so it was up to me to give San Francisco a tryout.

In the beginning of my story I mentioned of traveling every form of travel “In and Out of Montana”, namely from the east by oxen teams across the plains in 1867 and out next going south by Concord coach to Ogden and California, and in again from the west over the Mullan Trail with teams, pack ponies and horseback and out again by railroad. So now I am about to go out in another form of travel in my Dodge sedan. With a driver and his wife and two small boys. We left early on the 20th of Oct. 1924 going by way of Sulfur Springs and Deep Creek Canyon. I had fully intended taking my daughter with me but she was retained as sec. to the Bank Receiver and couldn’t leave. However I was in good hands. We arrived at Helena early. That date was the occasion of my brother David’s and his wife's 40th anniversary and they were celebrating the occasion with a wedding feast at which the following persons were seated. My sister Margaret DeCamp and her husband, My sister Mrs. Nash (Rose Esther) and Dr. Nash and their son, Elmer, and daughter, Helen, and myself and we enjoyed a very happy family reunion. After a good night’s rest we proceeded on our journey and reached Missoula after crossing the range and the day was beautiful, typical Montana fall weather. We stopped at a hotel each night and took a lunch along each day which saved much time, with a hot dinner at night and good breakfast to start out on, I stood the trip as well as the rest. The 3rd night we rested near the summit ate at a travelers station called Maggie and Jiggs and strange to say they didn’t serve Corned beef and cabbage and the next day we crossed the Divide, but it was now a wonderful highway and the scenery was beautiful. The mining town of Mullan where we camped in 1878 in the heavy timber was now all cleared and streets paved down to Wallace, where we spent the night. I still had friends there but I didn’t look them up as the memory of the happiest and saddest days of my life were spent there and I didn’t want to renew old friendships. Many years ago there was a destructive fire in the Coeur d’Alenes and thousands of acres of timber destroyed and the government planted a new forest. My driver called my attention to the new growth as he had helped to plant them, green pine and yellow balsam turn about. The trees were 3 or 4 years old then and were thriving as the deep snows of the winter and summer rains created irrigation the year around. As we drove along the gorgeous sight was indescribable and when we passed the old mission I again saw the little White Church that was built in 1846 by the Jesuit Missionaries. We reached Spokane that night and were very tired but after a bath we slept well and the next morning were ready for another day. The weather so far had been ideal. Our destination that day was Pendleton, Ore. and we covered a long sandy stretch passing Walla Walla. I recognized that part of the country, as it was the route we traveled over many years ago. We made Pendleton early and I stayed over night with a friend who was looking for me and spent a delightful evening and a restful night and early next morning continued our journey which took us through Dayton and The Dalles and now we are on the Columbia Highway and the scenery was magnificent and it started to rain and we traveled slower. We found that we wouldn’t get to Portland until late so we stopped at a wayside inn and had dinner, as it would be too late for the children to eat. It was pouring down rain when we arrived, too late to see the city or some friends whom I was sorry to miss and it was late when we got settled down for the night at a hotel. We continued our journey next morning. After several miles the rain was over and the sun was shining bright. I haven’t mentioned my traveling companions but they were all fine. The driver was reliable and I realized from the start that he knew his business and that he needed no backseat driver. He had seen service in France and was one of the drivers of Pershing’s trucks. Over there they drove without lights as a safeguard against the enemy but that couldn’t be done here on account of reckless drivers. The two boys, aged 4 and 2 years, were the best youngsters for their age. Once we were very much amused when the little boy was crying and was tired of being cooped up all day. The older lad who was lording it over his brother because he was sitting with his father in a high voice said, “Stop crying or I’ll take a hand back there.” I suppose he had heard his father make such a remark before and wasn’t aware that he had said anything funny. Every time the car would stop at a station he was out in a jiffy. No string or nail or bolt escaped his eye and he busied himself with constructing something with strings like a spider web and the different objects he found would dangle from it with the motion of the car and he didn’t get in the driver’s way. Their mother was a nurse and of course knew how to care for and manage them. As we were driving along we saw a sign that read “Ice Cold Cider” made while you wait. It looked good to us and we each had a glass and took a jug full along to have for our lunch. That night we had an early dinner, as we were anxious to get over the Siskiyou Mountains which was the worst part of our trip. About that time moon shiners were busy and liquor was being transported in cars. They tore along at a frightful gate. I was always relieved when we had the inside of the road but any number of times they came within an inch of our fenders. One car in particular had green, red and blue lights as it wound around and turned sharp corners. It reminded me of a hideous dragon. My driver remarked “That fellow is going to get what is coming to him sooner or later.” And about this time the cider from the churning of the car and the heat gathered enough gas to blow out the rubber stopper. For an instant we were panic stricken thinking we were shot at or had a blow out. When we recognized the fumes of the cider we realized what had happened. None of us were hysterically inclined so there was no screaming or crying, however we were very much relieved to know that all was well. And we reached Weed a small town across the border and found a good hotel. It didn’t take long to get a bath and to bed and relax and try and forget that nightmare drive. The next day we passed Mt. Shasta and the rest of the trip to Oakland was uneventful. We got there late at night and as my driver had never crossed on the ferry before wanted daylight for it. The next morning he left his family with relatives and brought me to the city, as his agreement was to deliver the car as well as myself to my daughter’s address. Men like he asked for little information and he either was given the wrong direction or misunderstood. We got across the ferry all right but as there are a number of streets leading into the city he picked out the farthest from where we were going. We had some steep climbs to make and we found ourselves on a one way street going the wrong way. We didn’t encounter a traffic cop. After meandering around for an hour reading street names and apartment numbers we finally located my daughter’s apts. and I was received in open arms. I said goodbye to my driver and never saw him again. It took me several days to recuperate and about the first thing I read was about a supposed moon shiner found at the bottom of a ravine in the Siskiyou Mts. with the car and body smashed beyond recognition and the wreckage filled with broken bottles which told the tale and my driver’s prophecy came true. And now I am in San Francisco at No. Hyde and L. where we lived a year. I had made up my mind to like the city but there were a number of things I had to learn and one of them was that I needn’t jump every time a fire truck passed and run to the window day or night to locate the fire. I soon found out that the fire Laddies could handle the situation without me worrying as that was why they were firemen. The next thing I had to overcome was not to read everything in the daily papers. The number of suicides, murders and robberies and other horrible happenings distressed me so my family suggested reading only the good things about wonderful churches, theaters and lectures and charities and I found that was better. There was still another thing that worried me. I didn’t see any children. Where were they? I soon learned that this was not a school district and we were not near a school. So the next Sunday we drove around the city and through the park and I was pleased to see many, many children and their parents. And very soon the big city life appealed to me and without half trying was as much interested and infatuated as the rest of my family. The climate appealed to me because it was so different from the other location where I had spent a winter in California. The thermometer not varying 15 degrees the year round. I had remembered a number of times in Montana when mercury dropped between 30 and 40 degrees in less than an hour, and the opposite would happen with the approach of a “Chinook” and so unless you have lived elsewhere with extremes of heat and cold you could not appreciate San Francisco climate. Many people object to the fog, but to me it’s soothing especially after a day’s outing down the peninsula when it has been extremely warm and you are welcomed back to the city with clouds of balmy fog. I was there nine months when I made a hurried trip to Lewistown on account of illness in my family and remained three months. I then shipped my household goods and prepared to live in San Francisco permanently and this move placed me between love and duty with half of my family in either place and leaving two darling grandchildren and other relatives and many friends but as my health demanded a lower altitude it was necessary to make the move and also I was needed to start a new home and keep the home fires burning. I had lived in Lewistown many years and I will always think of her as a beautiful clean city and a thriving community where every one beautified their home surroundings with trees and shrubs and flowers and although the flowering season was short it was lovely while it lasted. Being cut off from outside pleasures they always furnished their own amusements in a sociable manner. With pavements and streets always in order and with a fine hospital and clinic that would be a credit anywhere and churches and schools and other substantial buildings and altogether a model little city. So after arriving back to San Francisco we immediately moved into the residential part on Lake Street in the Richmond district and I never had occasion again to wonder or inquire where the children were. There is a playground nearby and I can hear their happy voices continually and with several schools within two or three blocks we soon learned to know more about this big beautiful city. The many charitable institutions and homes for orphan children and the aged and destitute and havens of reform for the wayward. Within a year we had a visit from our little family and again a couple of years later so my grandchildren learned to know and love us and we certainly enjoyed them. In the meantime the third daughter joined us and was soon pleased and contented with our new home surroundings. She was also lucky and was soon at work. Time has not grown heavy on my hands. Our Sundays and holidays and evenings were spent in the Dodge seeing new sights and places. The Mission Dolores was the most interesting to me. It was the 6th mission established in Cal. in 1776 under the direction of Junipero Serra and built entirely by Indian labor. The thoroughness of their work preserved it from the earthquake and fire to the present day. This old Mission appealed to me because of the fact that I knew so many Jesuit missionaries in Montana whose hearts were entirely wrapt in the conversion of Indians. And there are many resorts throughout California for rest and vacations. We have tried any number of them from Lake County to Santa Cruse. My next visit to Montana in 1929 in company with a daughter who was taking a vacation and a niece who had been going to school in San Francisco. It is always a pleasure to travel over familiar places and view scenes and landscapes. As we were nearing Helena the old landmark the Beartooth came into sight. It is twenty miles north of Helena and I realized we were nearing my old home along the Prickley Pear Valley. The East Helena smelter and the shining dome of the state capitol and Mount Helena, just to see them was a pleasure. We did not stop there then as I intended to later on but rode on to our destination Lewistown. On our way we passed more familiar scenes and places where I spent my first year in Montana with my pioneer parents and sisters and brothers the old John’s Station and farther on Mitchell which has been a post office until recently. It was the scene of the shooting in the early days of Malcolm Clark by Indians of his wife’s tribe. His remains rest there. Before we got to Great Falls the highest stack in the United States can be seen going or coming. Several hours later we arrived at Lewistown and were received joyfully at the depot by my family and many friends. And we spent a happy vacation being showered with a round of luncheons, dinners and card parties and picnics at which I met many friends whom I would never see again. My daughter’s vacation ended all too soon and she left me to finish my visit leisurely. Soon after that with my daughter’s family we motored to Helena to visit relatives there. It was good to be at the old home again. My brother David owns it now as he bought it of the heirs several years ago and had it remodeled entirely. Soon after we arrived my brother arranged a picnic to the Gates of the Mountains, as I had not been there for many years or seen the new boats of the transportation Co. It was a family party. My sister Margaret and her husband R. E. DeCamp, Dr. and Mrs. Nash, and my daughter Mrs. Joe Schmit and children, my brother David and his wife Christine and myself. A lunch had been prepared for down the canyon. We had an early start and the 18 mile drive was soon made. My brother N. D. who was captain and manager of the transportation met us at the landing. Indeed it would not have seemed right if a Hilger had not greeted us. Everything was in readiness for the run and we were soon on our way down the wonderful canyon. I had often made the trip under different circumstances, first the flat boats, next the steamer Rose and now the swift motor boats. It holds happy and sad recollections as it was part of my wedding trip. I had never heard the skipper’s story of the stone formation of the gigantic cut through the mountains until this trip and it was thrilling. At the end of the run, which is named Meriwether Canyon, a marker is placed in memory of the great explorer, Meriwether Lewis. We also found a huge log cabin with fireplace and we were ready for a lunch. It didn’t take long to make coffee and how good the wieners tasted that day! And we were soon on our way back arriving at N. D. ranch home. I was shown where the old rustic home had stood and the changes which were made by the breaking of the Hauser Dam and the new dam below which backed the water over part of the meadows. A new road to the landing which is to the left of the Gate is around the base of the mountains. On the highway near the ranch is another marker, Historical Point with the Gates in the background erected by the state highway in memory of Meriwether Lewis who camped near the Gates on his memorable trip 95 years ago.

As I am writing this the Gates and canyon come to my mind vividly and I am going to describe it as I remember it. (Picture of Robbers Fort)

As you enter the Gates to the left the first wonderful sight is the Robbers’ Fort, described minutely by the explorers Lewis and Clark. This picture was taken when I was still a girl at home. You can imagine the size of the fort by comparing the tiny size of the tourist in the foreground. It was so named because a robber could defend himself against an army only one at a time could ascend the narrow passage, as long as his ammunition would last, and even then a club or his fists would protect him as he would have the advantage of being on top. Occasional holes provided light to that stairway. I climbed it and observed the formation. It all must have happened with a terrible upheaval and explosion. Down the crevices was a substance that resembled jet hardened like frozen icicles it was hard climbing. They tell me it is a haunt for mountain sheep now. As you proceed and glide over the water the massive rock formation is constantly changing with different colors interspersed with mosses and trees. The monotony relieved by irregular shapes and faces, forms, and figures changing constantly and listening to the skipper’s story in awe and wonderment. An occasional shout of surprise or joy will bring echoes, reverberating back from cliff to cliff doubled and trebled. The wonders of it all begging description. There is the silent rock an immense slab projecting hundreds of feet over the water around which the human voice does not carry. There is also the theater stage with seating capacity of 200 that can only be entered from over the water. And the statuesque lover’s meeting which appear and disappear with the course of the boat and many other sights that, to be appreciated, must be seen.

So after visiting with N. D. family awhile we returned to Helena. This was the first time I had gone down the canyon when Father was not along and I missed him more than I can tell. N. D. with his family have lived there constantly and has ever been an able and valuable assistant of the Gates of the Mountains Transportation Co. My brother David conceived and brought about the corporation and with partners launched the project David being president, S. T. Hauser vice president, O. C. Lampert Sec. under the direct management of N. D. Hilger captain and for the benefit of Montanans and tourists who have not yet seen the wonderful sight it is 20 miles north from Helena and a comparatively easy trip. During boating season three motor boats make regular trips to Picnic Canyon. The complete trip from Helena and return is made in one half day’s time.

After returning to Helena we finished out our pleasant visit of a few days and when my son-in-law returned from a business trip elsewhere we left for Lewistown via Beartooth where my brother Joe and his family lived for years. They have raised a banner family, 12 children, of the Hilgers and we found them well and thriving and after a short and happy visit left for Lewistown. Later on we spent a day at Armells to visit my nephew and family. We had quite a time getting there. The days were sunshiny and bright with only a few tiny clouds in sight and there was no reason why we couldn’t go. We had gone only a few miles when suddenly out of a clear sky a bolt of lightning and peel of thunder. We were in a cloudburst. Soon the water was running over the road and along the side. To stand still was dangerous as the car would slip into the ditch. My daughter kept her head and drove very slowly when just as suddenly we were on dry ground. We were undecided whether to go on.

As we were near the town of Hilger we drove on and enquired and found not a trace of rain , but a blue sky in the direction we were going. So we kept on and within 5 miles of the ranch along a creek bottom where there were many big trees the same thing happened with thunder and lightning. We drove fast to get away from the trees and were on a hill stretch to the bench when the water came rushing and the gumbo was too slippery and we went into the ditch without even a peep from the children, Joe (Sonny) & Mary. Luckily we were leaning against the hillside but we couldn’t budge the car forward or backward. Meantime in the back seat where I was we had a freezer of ice cream and it went over on my feet and before I could extricate my feet the melted ice water had soaked in. I straightened up the freezer and while we were wondering how long we would be in such a predicament a wagon and four men came along and stopped long enough to say that the storm was over and to stay where we were and the water would soon drain off and we could move then. We looked at each other disgustedly and said, “quite encouraging”. Soon after a car with 2 men came along and we recognized the driver. He stopped and waded through the gumbo and said, “I’ll see what I can do about this,” and told us to sit in his car. Then another car came which created a blockade and all hands helped. They had to pull it backward down to where the grading wasn’t so high, put on the chains and got her back on the gravel and drive up on the bench. And he took us up there in his car and of course we thanked him and my daughter, Connie, asked him to tell her husband what had happened and that we wouldn’t be back that night. We got to the ranch at Armells safely and the cream was still frozen and my niece, whose birthday it was felt happier. And we brought back a car that needed a good bath. After a few days my daughter gave two afternoon card parties at which my very special friends were invited. We all enjoyed these gatherings greatly. And as it was nearing the time for going home two old friends felt that we must all meet again and gave a parting luncheon and a most enjoyable time was had by all. I made the trip back alone. At Butte where there was a four hour wait two friends met me and we passed the time at a theatre. The rest of the trip was uneventful but met up with pleasant traveling companions and then my family were awaiting me at the terminal. A year later we took our vacation together and tried out “Carmel by the Sea”. I cannot imagine any place more peaceful and quiet and inspiring. We were fortunate in securing rooms at “The Little Cottage of the River Winds” surrounded by a beautiful flower garden where home cooking was the chief attraction. Also good clean sleeping apts. and our Hostesses two fine women left nothing undone to make us comfortable. Each morning we would drive to some place of interest. One trip was south to Point Lobas a national park with many wonderful sights. One of the attractions of that time of year is the annual meeting of seals. The dark ones from the northern waters and the tan colored ones from the south. They seemed to be in convention, disputing as it were and quarreling or barking over the situation. It was very exciting to look on from cliffs and rocks near the sea and an audience didn’t seem to make any difference. This park is also noted for the number and variety of singing birds and game fowl, but guns are prohibited in this park otherwise fowl and birds would soon be extinct. Another trip was the 17 mile drive at Carmel with its famous trees. It was here that Mary Pickford’s early play, “Tess of the Storm Country” was staged, and Robert Louis Stevenson wrote his famous “Treasure Island”. We also took in Monterey, California’s first capitol with the famous historical buildings still in good repair. Monterey is 6 miles from Carmel and the nearest railroad. A big bus carries passengers to and fro and this is why there are no tramps at Carmel. The old mission San Carlos one-half mile from the entrance to Carmel is one of the sight-seeing places because it is the tomb of Father Junipero Serra, the grand old Padre who gave his life for the Indians who loved him and his memory is revered by all classes. The San Carlos Mission has been restored in recent years and a resident priest is stationed there. We had the pleasure of assisting at services a number of times, and there is a charm about it and the quaint garden that is hard to describe. There is also a Carmel monastery a few miles south, a beautiful white building with the green mountain for a background and facing the sea. A lovelier spot to spend a lifetime could not have been chosen. Each afternoon we spent on the beach. Although I could not take a hand in this exercise I enjoyed a comfortable chair under a big umbrella and took in the sights and frolics of my family in the water and the glistening white sand of the beach. I could have enjoyed staying on indefinitely but like all good things vacations have an end. With this restful beauty in sight I am thinking that I don’t blame the native Californian for being proud of their state. However, let us stop for a moment and consider what it is, besides climate and natural beauties, that make California a better place to live and thrive in. It is certainly due to a great extent to the tourists of many states who seek milder winters and in exchange leave their surplus cash. I saw a rough estimate some time ago that Montana tourists alone spend millions in California. And would it not be a fair exchange for Californians to return the compliment and see Montana in summer or fall? You would be surprised at the variety of natural wonders you could see in a two week’s auto trip which would take in Yellowstone Park to the south of Montana and Glacier Park to the northwest and between the two parks the Gates of the Mountains near Helena. The trip by rail is much shorter and whereas I expect to spend my later years here and if my health permits I will again visit the haunts of my childhood and maturity for I can never forget Montana’s beautiful God made scenery. It is true that she has suffered much in recent years from drought and hail but if I could be shown any portion of the States that has not been visited by some great calamity I would think that she had more than her share. From time immemorial there have been “lean and fat years” in various parts of the globe and nations have suffered and recovered and I am certain of that Montana will come back to its own with its wonder crops of the past.

A little over a year ago, Aug. 18, 1934, my oldest brother, David, and his wife celebrated their Golden Wedding. The festivities took place at Box Elder, Fergus County, the home of Mrs. Hilger and the scene of their marriage 50 years before. A number of guests who witnessed their marriage as they sailed out on the sea of Matrimony were present again to congratulate them and wish them many more years in “double harness”. Three hundred guests responded and it was indeed a happy occasion. A fine program of music and song added pleasure to the guests and the speaker was C. W. Bolden, a Lewistown friend and attorney. The couple were showered with good wishes and congratulations and telegrams and after refreshments were served the guests departed. I always regretted that I could not be present at that occasion as I was ill that summer and fall.

And the next word from Lewistown was the death of my sister Louisa Chandler on Oct. 17, 1934, and although she was in failing health for over a year we did not expect her death so near. She was well known and loved in and around Lewistown for many years. She was buried there near her husband and her pastor gave a beautiful tribute to her Christian character. She left a son, George Chandler, and two daughters, Miss Helen Chandler and Mrs. Alice Allen and two grandchildren, and I regretted very much that I could not attend her burial services. After this bereavement we were hardly prepared to hear of the death of another sister, Mrs. Margaret Hilger DeCamp at Helena (1934). She was ill only a few days when she was stricken with cerebral hemorrhage. Her sudden death was a shock to us all, as she was very active in music circles, and an accomplished violinist and was at the time of her death Director of the Montana Music Teachers Association. She is survived by her husband R. E. DeCamp, Montana’s gifted artist, also a son, Renon, a Westinghouse electrical engineer and a grandson. I was still unable to make the trip to Montana. She was well known and continuously before the public. Her death was greatly regretted. The following beautiful tribute in an editorial of the Record Herald. I will not dwell on this affliction. Mr. DeCamp’s death followed a year later, 1936, in Chicago where he went to live with his son. The Montana press spoke very highly of his work as an artist. His remains were brought to Helena and rest beside his wife.

It was after my sister’s death that I decided to put my mind and strength on this book when the forerunners of earthquake shocks at Helena reached us. A letter from my brother David at the same time just mentioned the shocks and it was evident that they were not alarmed or expecting anything like what followed on the night of Oct 18, 1935 when she was partially destroyed. Helena, my beautiful mountain home where I had spent the happiest and saddest days of my life. After all I have written of her my readers can imagine how deeply I regretted the calamity that befell her. It was several days before I heard that my relatives were safe and that the old home was not injured but the experiences of 15 thousand individuals was harrowing and will not soon be forgotten. The night was spent in their cars driving around slowly and they witnessed the fall and destruction of homes here and there, and the greatest loss of schools churches, hospitals, orphanage home and business buildings was deplorable. Our air reporters gave us the tragic details every few hours. In one respect Helena was fortunate in not having fires to fight and but one death occurred. Afterwards I heard what a terrible trial and fear they lived through, and it was a source of comfort to hear of the spirit and energy back of Helena’s people who are mostly descendents of the hardy pioneers, and it is what I expected and hoped of them. To be able to come out from under and start all over again and build more safely and beautifully than ever before. And it was with pride that I learned that through the calamity the fine traits of every individual was revealed by extending help in the alleviation of want and suffering without praise of eulogy.

Later on I received a book about “Helena’s Earthquake” and a bunch of reliable photos.

I also learned that she carried no earthquake insurance which no doubt will be rectified hereafter. After this calamity I postponed the ending of my book, as I had not the heart to leave her in distress until she was on the road to recovery again.

In 1936 my brother David, who had often wondered how long it would take to make that trip across the plains with a good car, was anxious to demonstrate the trip himself. So with his wife and daughter went east by rail from Helena and bought a car at St. Paul and had an interview with the St. Paul Pioneer Press before leaving. My Father had made the trip with Gen. Sully many years before and was correspondent for the Press. David took the same trail and covered the distance in three days, which had taken three months by oxen team.

The following is taken from the Pioneer Press, May 23, 1936.

About this time I learned of the nearness of an old friend, one of our first neighbors of pioneer days of Helena through a visitor from Montana. After an exchange of letters we arranged a visit to Livermore. My daughter and I motored out on Sunday and found her very happy and awaiting us in the home of a devoted daughter and family. It was indeed a happy meeting, and I was surprised to find her so cheerful and changed so little, and although nearly 90 she still was busy with needlework and showed us exquisite embroidery and other handwork. I needn’t add that we enjoyed a happy reminiscent fest and also a delicious dinner and the wonderful day ended with a promise of a return visit very soon. We never had that pleasure as soon after she began to fail and passed on to her reward. I can remember her as an exemplary Christian and happy helpmate. Her husband preceded her 8 years before. She was the mother of 7 children and had 24 grandchildren and 24 great grandchildren. Accompanied by her parents she was one of seven women who crossed the plains in 1864, was in Alder Gulch during the big gold discovery. I was glad to have seen her once again and enjoyed the day’s visit as she was closely linked to days of long ago.

It was in the spring of 1937 that my daughter and granddaughter, Sue, came for a visit. She always enjoyed and seemed benefited by a lower altitude, and with the little fairy we enjoyed a lovely visit. When she left after Easter she promised to let the older daughter, Mary, spend her vacation with us, which she did and was with us on our yearly visit to Carmel by the Sea. She left for home for school in time.

It was during that season that my brother David with others made a trip to Fort Benton on the Missouri to be present at the finish of a boat race, which was quite an event. However he contracted a severe cold and was quite ill at Helena but recovered sufficiently to go to his office. But this illness was a forerunner of his death which occurred on Oct.19, 1937. Thus Montana lost one of her finest citizens, a man loved and honored in every walk of life. To his honored wife and immediate family every sympathy is offered. I could not be present at his funeral because of ill health, but my family was represented by a daughter, Theo, who had been his private sec. for a number of years. She went by airplane and arrived in due time for the services which took place from St. Leo’s at Lewistown and the interment was at Box Elder in a family cemetery where two of his children are at rest. As he was constantly before the public the Helena papers and Lewistown eulogized his passing. Taken from the Helena press and also from the Lewistown Democrat News by Tom Stout, and I will add that I miss him greatly as he was an unusual good brother and received every encouragement from him to finish my book.

During 1936 we had a number of visitors and time seemed to pass quickly. First my brother’s wife who spent the winter in Hollywood and incidentally, on the way back to Helena, to see the famous bridges and visit us. Next my nephew and wife and daughter whom I hadn’t seen in years. They enjoyed our city and bridges. And then my sister, Rose and her daughter, Helen, who were on a trip to visit her son while in Missoula, Montana and on their return was accompanied by my 13 year old granddaughter, Mary, who remained with us until fall. The bridges were finished this year and San Francisco is proud of her Bridges. The Golden Gate in particular has the longest span in the world. The Bay Bridge was completed first and San Francisco celebrated, as she best knows how, with the fiestas and parades and music. With my family we were among the first to cross. The sensation was thrilling to be so high above the bay that you needed to look down to see the Ferry Building and with the city ablaze with lights and fireworks. It was truly a joyous sight and occasion for San Francisco.

Later on when the Golden Gate bridge was completed she again celebrated just as happily and gorgeous. The first trip was for pedestrians, across to Marin and back and from Marin to the city. My family was represented there also and a wonderful sight was enjoyed by all. The immense parade was best seen at the Marina where a gigantic stage was built and seats to accommodate thousands so we had a good view of the grand pageant which represented every lodge or order or school, under the bright lights, costumes and uniforms and soldiers both on horse or on foot looked wonderful and furnished a sight long to be remembered. The fleet that arrived after the bridges were finished, we drove over to Marin and had a view of the fleet in formation from the Golden Gate Bridge. The ships were a gray color, but the bay water looked a dark green, which made the vessels look white. The picture was beautiful and at a distance with your eyes partially closed you could imagine the scene an immense pond with monstrous white lilies. A view from Colt Tower of the bridges is magnificent. And now we are looking forward to the World’s Fair, “The Golden Gate International Exposition” and the site is being built in the bay and will be called “Treasure Island”. By early fall the site had been finished and some buildings finished and others in construction. It was a busy place. And visitors or sightseers each day looked on in wonderment. We also made a couple of trips while the work was going on. My family spent our usual vacation at Carmel by the Sea. We find it the best resort to relax and really rest. We have friends who make reservations for us and have been lucky in always getting a roomy clean cottage furnished and we make our own breakfast. The rest of the meals out when and where we pleased. And now the time is growing shorter to the opening of the fair. However just before the holidays I contracted a cold that I could not shake and on Christmas day with an effort went to church and then to the family breakfast. Around the tree we received our gifts, and then I collapsed and was in for a siege of intense suffering with my family and doctor and nurse in attendance. I recovered but it was weeks before I was able to be cut and in the meantime the opening of the Golden Gate International Exposition took place as advertised on February 17, 1939 and from every point of view was a wonderful exhibition. My first trip was on Easter Sunday a beautiful, sunshiny day. We took in outdoor scenes and sights first, the Tower of the Sun, the fountains, the Court of the Seven Seas, and Pacifica and the rows and rows of tulips of different hues and beautiful and waxen almost too perfect to be real. It is needless to say we were in raptures over the sight. We continued on through the Redwood Empire and the wonderful scenes of the different counties and the electrical display of the various industries. It was really a treat even the clouds were moving. We finished our sight seeing for the day at the Montana building. It seemed a joyful dream to see scenes of my childhood in the gold mining days of Helena, especially the hydraulic means of mining gold, and the milling of quartz ore. I enjoyed it all, but was ready for home tired but satisfied and in roller chairs covered much ground. And in the meantime my grandson, Joe, and granddaughter, Mary, arrived from Montana to spend their vacation here and soon after we all spent a day at Treasure Island. My first desire was to see the work of the Masters in the art gallery and enjoyed the treat of our lives. Our favorite was the Madonna of the Chair. After all those years the coloring is still so rich and perfect. I am glad I lived in San Francisco during the exposition otherwise I would never have seen those treasures of art. We also took in the Mission Trails, which was most interesting. I had recently read the book “California Missions” and could understand better just what an undertaking those first missionaries had before them. And by this time we made ourselves comfortable upstairs in the California building before a big window to get a view of the fireworks and also the lighting of Treasure Island, then had dinner and finished the day with a jaunt by elephant train to view the wonderful sight of the electrical display. I had heard any number of people rave about the gorgeous sight and until I saw it in reality I couldn’t have understood mere words for that electrical wonder and then home. I’ll admit it took several days to recuperate. By this time my grandson was able to find his way around the city and with his sister saw everything worthwhile, the aquarium, museum and zoo and the beaches and Palace of Honor and whenever something special took place at Treasure Island they found their way over and back alone and in safety.

The 4th of July 1937 was a special occasion as it was my 78th birthday and it was a very happy occasion with a birthday dinner and gifts and flowers and music. This day was also an occasion of great rejoicing at my old home at Helena where they were celebrating the Diamond Jubilee of the discovery of gold. I received a copy of the Record Herald telling of the monster celebration and I wish I could have been there as I would have met a number of pioneers of my own age and now especially since the earthquake is forgotten and Helena settled down I would certainly enjoy seeing her again. This year I didn’t have my usual outing at Carmel as I didn’t feel equal to the drive but my grandchildren and two daughters enjoyed a weekend at our favorite resort. As the season went on we enjoyed seeing many friends and acquaintances whom I would not have seen only for the big fair. My daughter, Connie, and little girl, Sue, came to join her family and we were very happy indeed and it seemed like olden times to have a full house. And together we enjoyed my third trip to Treasure Island and it was the occasion of seeing the Cavalcade and it was also the largest attendance since the opening of the fair. I enjoyed the monster performance greatly, having lived through all the different stages of traveling and really saw the changes as they took place. It was like a dream to look back, oxen teams, stagecoach, horseback and pack pony days. And the first horseless carriage which you could hear approaching like a threshing machine and pell mell children and grown ups would rush out to see it passing. There was a debonair doctor in Helena who drove a tandem and was an admirer of beautifully trained horses. When we saw a string of horses in tandem coming around a corner we would hold our breaths. But I never saw those horses cut up or get tangled and one of my sisters was one of the first ladies to ride a bicycle so I enjoyed the Cavalcade hugely. We didn’t remain long after the show as it turned quite cool before we located our car. We enjoyed a full family reunion when my son-in-law, Joe Schmit, came and it was the occasion of my grandson’s 17th birthday,

Aug. 1937, and as he had only a week to stay he was on the jump trying to take in the most important sights. Being an engineer he enjoyed the bridges most, also the man-made island and the wonderful exhibits, and made a quick trip to Carmel and Santa Cruz to see some sewage plants under construction as the first one in Montana was being installed in Lewistown. With the two older children he drove back for the opening of school and my daughter and little girl followed soon after and left us lonesome after such a happy summer. I made another trip to Treasure Island this time to visit the Hall of Flowers, which I had been told about however seeing it and enjoying it in reality was better as the wonderful sight was beyond description. Large and glorious and waxy and small and dainty. Every species of growing plants and ferns and curiosities of dwarfed trees. We made the round but could have spent hours there, as there were other exhibits I still wanted to see and the Los Angeles and San Diego exhibits were wonderful. I rested a while and enjoyed a band concert at the San Francisco building. And then made a trip to the Holy Land. Although the relics and scenes were ancient they were inspiring and with the crowds of sightseers I came the nearest to St. Peter’s that I ever expect to get. By this time I was really tired. The attendance that day was the largest and a very warm day. This was my last trip to the fair. I have described only the exhibits that I saw, but there were many, many other grand exhibits. I was sorry to have missed Montana Day. My daughters were there and enjoyed meeting and greeting old friends. The wife of the engineer who built the Bay Bridge is a Montanan as was also the hostess of the Montana building. And now that the fair is over it is very probable that there will be another in 1940. As I am nearing my last chapter I feel it due my readers to add there are still four of the big pioneer Hilger family left, Joe and N. D. the two youngest brothers and the youngest sister, Rose Esther, and myself, but there are a number of the 3rd generation some of them bearing the name of Hilger. I hope they will be a credit to their forefathers and for generations to come.

In this my last chapter I have but one regret. As I fully intended flying back to Montana to finish out my program of traveling. My old family physician who was here at the last convocation made the round trip by air, insisted that I was physically able and with my pioneer spirit said it would add a fitting ending to my book. That was two years ago and had I made that trip I could have made it safely but my long illness of last winter and spring left me unequal to do so. And so with my family decided to let well enough alone and not undertake a flying trip.

And now in the twilight of a long and useful and colorful life through sunshine and shadows I still enjoy the comfort of a happy family home surroundings without a worry or care looking forward with hope and trust while my fondest recollections are “Memories of the Past”. However I still call Montana home and if my health permits it I may still see Montana again.