‘Historic Cemeteries of Denver,’ by Mark Barnhouse and James M. Cavoto Sr. (History Press)
Cemeteries have been a favorite subject of history books of late, so do we really need another one? Of course we do, if it is “Historic Cemeteries of Denver,” a colorful guidebook to where the famous and infamous are buried. Author Barnhouse is known for his books on Denver’s urban history, while his co-author, Cavoto Sr., was a longtime Fairmount Cemetery employee. If anyone knows the stories of where Denver bodies are buried, they do.
The city’s first cemetery was located at whatap now Cheesman Park, and was moved when Denver expanded. Workmen dug up graves and boxed up bones for reburial. Some coffins had multiple occupants, while others contained only a head or nothing at all. Many remains never were found, and a couple of years ago, workers in the adjacent Denver Botanical Gardens dug up an arm bone.
Despite today’s sorry state, Riverside was once the cemetery of choice. It was egalitarian, and some of Denver’s most prominent white citizens were buried there, alongside black Coloradans, including Clara Brown and Barney Ford. Its reputation suffered when nefarious happenings such as bootlegging took place there in the 1920s.
By then, Fairmount had become the city’s preferred resting place. It was designed like a garden, and fences and plastic flowers in summer were forbidden. No wonder prominent families with names such as Boettcher, Bonfils and Phipps chose to spend eternity there, some in private rooms in the mausoleum. Not far away are the graves of the more notorious citizens, l ike Denver madam Mattie Silks, gambling entrepreneur Ed Chase and with socialite Lena Stoiber. The much-married Stoiber, reputed to have been the Silverton proprietor of a bawdy house, was impossible to get along with. One of her husbands was booked on the Titanic. Rumor said he missed the boat, but saw his chance to get away from Lena and was never heard from again.
Such stories make this history of Denver cemeteries, well, come alive again.
‘The Westerners,’ by Megan Kate Nelson (Scribner)
Western history, as we all know now, didn’t have much to say about women, minorities, gays or any other marginalized figures. The mythic American West traditionally was about white men, with a few women and minorities thrown in for color or humor. Those few included Sacajawea, the Indian guide for Lewis and Clark, and Ella Watson, hanged for cattle rustling.
Former Colorado resident Kate Nelson, known for her acclaimed “The Three-Cornered War,” is the latest to weigh in on the importance of these once-overlooked contributors to the story of the West and its settlement. “The Westerners” is a beautifully written and well-researched work that tells history through the eyes of Sacajawea, Ella Watson, Jim Beckwourth, Maria Gertrudis Barcelo, Polly Bemis, Little Wolf and Ovando Hollister. These stories, Nelson writes, “allow us to see the full shape of the American West and its history.”
No doubt, thatap true, but it is odd for such an esteemed writer and historian that these seven are already among the best-known figures in Western history.
Nonetheless, they are symbols of the women and minorities whose stories have been marginalized. Their extensively researched lives are told in great detail, with common misconceptions debunked. Legend says both Watson and Bemis were prostitutes, for instance. But Nelson writes that Watson left her violent husband and set out on her own, acquiring her cattle by legitimate means, not by stealing them. The vigilantes who hanged her were self-serving cattlemen. Bemis, sold by her family in China and sent to America, worked as a domestic, not as a hooker.
While not the ground-breaker the publisher claims, “The Westerners,” nonetheless, is an absorbing work and another building block in the reimagining of the West.
‘The Lost Cities of El Norte,’ by Peter Stark (Mariner)
In 1540, Don Francisco Vazquez de Coronado set off from Mexico City with an entourage of thousands to find gold in the unexplored north. An ambitious priest who dreamed of converting hundreds of souls and thereby reach sainthood, he told of a land of riches and seven cities of gold. Backed by his wife’s wealthy family, Coronado hoped to amass a fortune equal to that of Hernan Cortez, who had brutally subdued the Aztecs. Coronado’s quest would be different: He had orders to treat the indigenous people kindly.
Coronado, of course, did not find gold. He explored an enormous expanse of land, from the West Coast to the middle of the United States. Only by chance — and maybe due to a head injury — he failed by only days to find the rich agricultural lands of the Mississippi Valley. Had he kept on, the United States might have been colonized by Spain. Instead, Coronado returned to Mexico City in disgrace, the last of the great Spanish explorers.
“The Lost Cities of El Norte” is a richly detailed history of Coronado’s ill-fated journey. In his greed, he enslaved, tortured and killed natives. Ultimately, however, Stark writes, the Indians used trickery and their knowledge of how to live in a hostile environment to stop the Spanish force. One group dipped their arrows in a toxic substance that caused a fatal flesh-eating disease.
