The south wing of the Conqueror’s boardinghouse was built by W. S.
Pryor in 1910. The original wing (at the right) dates from the
1870’s. Unfortunately, vandals have since burned down this
picturesque relic.
[Illustration: D.K.P., 1960]
_From Georgetown_
[Illustration]
Waldorf is unique because, single-handed, it was caused and named by a
mining magnate who built his own little railroad—the Argentine
Central—to create the town.
Edward John Wilcox was another of the many colorful characters Colorado
has produced. He was full of quirks and idiosyncrasies. A former
Methodist minister, he decided he could serve the church better by
making money and tithing than by staying on with any of his former
parishes in Longmont, Denver or Pueblo. Success attended his decision,
and by 1905 he was the owner of some sixty-five mines on Leavenworth
Mountain, south of Georgetown. But the mines were high in the East
Argentine district where it was difficult to transport machinery in and
ore out.
So on August 1 (Colorado Day), 1905, Wilcox began building his railroad,
starting over eight miles away at Silver Plume and planning to grade
switchbacks over Pendleton Mountain, the western wing of Leavenworth. By
Colorado Day of the next year, the railroad had reached nearly eight
miles beyond Waldorf to a point almost at the top of Mount McClellan. A
second ceremony was held which included driving a gold spike. (The first
had been held on reaching Waldorf.) Immediately afterward trains began
operating to haul freight and tourists. But not on Sunday. Wilcox would
not degrade the Lord’s day!
A post office was opened in Waldorf at 11,666 feet in altitude claiming
to be the highest in the United States, and Waldorf was prepared for a
great future. It had already had a considerable past, if not under the
name of Waldorf. The silver mines in both the West and East Argentine
districts had been working since 1866 and been supporting two mills. One
mill and a camp called Argentine (from the Latin word for silver,
_argentum_) were fairly high in Leavenworth Gulch on the way to
Argentine Pass. Their location was beside the stagecoach road from
Georgetown to Montezuma. But now a large boardinghouse, several
residences, a store and a depot clustered about the Waldorf and Vidler
tunnels and their mills. Thus the new camp of Waldorf was born.
Everything went well at first for the town and railroad—even despite the
ban on Sunday tourists. The little railroad made a great impression, and
Wilcox was as proud as a racehorse stable owner as he added little Shay
engines to his rolling stock. Early in 1907 a British syndicate offered
$3,000,000 for his holdings around Waldorf including the railroad.
Wilcox refused despite the enormous profit involved.
But 1907 turned out to be a bad year. A depression started gathering
momentum in the East. During the last six months of the year the price
of silver fell thirteen cents, and Waldorf ore was not worth hauling. By
1908 Wilcox was badly in debt and was forced to liquidate where he
could. According to the railroad historians, Elmer O. Davis and Frank
Hollenback, Wilcox sold his $300,000 railroad for $44,000. The new
management took over in 1909 and made a bid for the tourist trade which
naturally included trains on Sunday.
Still the railroad did not pay, and was sold again in 1912. Ironically,
the buyer was William Rogers of Georgetown, the same Rogers who had
suggested the idea of the railroad to Wilcox in the first place. Now he
had his railroad all built and operating for only $19,500! Rogers
founded a new company.
But the mines had never come back after the blow of ’07. The tourist
trade was not adequate to support the railroad with no freight to haul
other than coal for the power company’s maintenance station at Waldorf.
The last Shay engines were sold in 1914, and gasoline engined cars
replaced them. Even this drastic measure did not suffice. The income for
the 1917 summer season was too lean for the company to continue. In 1920
permission was granted for abandonment, and the next year track was
taken up.
Waldorf was truly dead. Since then, from time to time, assorted lessees
have operated the Waldorf tunnel and the Santiago mine northwest of
Waldorf on the side of Mount McClellan. While they were working, they
took over some of the old buildings for a year or two as residences. In
the 1950’s Waldorf had two bad fires which destroyed the last of the big
buildings and the habitable dwellings. In desperation the man who was
working the Santiago mine in 1958, erected a Quonset hut for his home.
It stands as a sad commentary on these high towns where water is so
precious and the menace of fire, an ever-present reality. Most Colorado
mining camps have experienced terrible fires more than once, and Waldorf
is no exception.
[Illustration: L. C. McClure, 1905-11; D.P.L.]