Starvation Winter in the Klondike

     The Klondike Gold Rush began in 1896 with the discovery of gold along Rabbit Creek in the Klondike Valley. George Washington Carmack, nicknamed Lying George by his acquaintances, announced the strike in August at a saloon in Forty Mile, a town on the border of the Alaska and Yukon territories. Word spread quickly among the miners and settlers in the area, and soon many people deserted the major Yukon River communities of Circle City and Forty Mile to stake claims upstream. Rabbit Creek was soon renamed Bonanza Creek. A new town, Dawson, sprang up at the confluence of the Yukon and Klondike rivers in the Yukon Territory.  

     News of the Klondike strike was slow to reach the outside world. In July 1897, ships loaded with Klondike gold and rich miners arrived in Seattle and San Francisco. This triggered the northward stampede. More than 1000 people beat the hoards of stampeders and reached Dawson before winter. Many were disappointed to learn that most of the promising sites had already been claimed by residents of the area. 

Panning for Gold (Vancouver Public Library)

     The last steamship of the season unloaded its cargo at Dawson on September 30, 1897. The Northwest Mounted Police soon determined there would not be enough food for everyone during the upcoming winter. Inspector Charles Constantine posted a notice that read: "I, having carefully looked over the present distressing situation regarding the supply of food for the winter, find that the stock on hand is not sufficient to meet the wants of the people and can see but one way out of the difficulty, and that is an immediate move down-river, of all those who are now unsupplied, to Fort Yukon, where there is a large stock of provisions."

      Several hundred people heeded the warning and left for Fort Yukon, Alaska by the end of October.  But more kept coming. The Canadian government was reluctant to accept responsibility for the tens of thousands of stampeders in the Skagway and Dyea area, poised to cross the border via the White Pass and Chilkoot Trails. This led the Mounties to require that each person carry nearly a ton of designated supplies.

Chilkoot Pass (National Park Service)

     Those who were progressing along the routes as winter set in began to hear tales of harsh conditions in Dawson, including rumors of starvation. Many of them camped at smaller communities along the trails. But for people who stayed in Dawson the winter months were difficult. Even the Northwest Mounted Police at Fort Cudahy, who had some stockpiles available and could pay the escalating prices for provisions, were forced to reduce their basic flour ration. In Dawson itself, there were no eggs.  Miners and trappers who had been living in the North knew what to expect and had accumulated adequate supplies to survive the winter. But most of the large population of stampeders, who had rushed to Dawson in the late summer and fall of 1897, were not prepared for the ferocious cold and living in a gold-based economy with no gold – and little money.

Dawson City during the Gold Rush

     As the days grew short, the temperatures plummeted and food supplies dwindled. Dawson slowed nearly to a standstill. Hotels were full. Many residents spent the majority of each day in bed, conserving their energy and heat. Men without homes or sleeping rooms took shelter wherever they could find it. One such refuge was Bill McPhee’s Pioneer Saloon, packed with unfortunate souls who slept on benches and tables.

     Both of the trading companies that serviced Dawson tried to control steeply rising prices, but a black market sprang up. Flour, the most basic staple, was in such limited supply that a rancid 50-pound sack could command a payment of anywhere from $35 to $100. Tinned vegetables had gone off the market early in the season, and shriveled potatoes sold for a dollar a pound.

Bowery Street in Dawson, 1898 (Canadian Archive)

     By the time spring break-up of the Yukon came and the steamer Mae West delivered a load of provisions on June 8, saloons had been serving what amounted to whiskey-flavored water for quite some time. Everyone celebrated the arrival of food and spirits – and the end of the winter.

      In my novel, The Claim, I have included the “Starvation Winter” as the backdrop for several scenes. Here is a brief excerpt:

     Erik stared at the lifeless town. After the arduous journey over frozen snow, along treacherous rivers of ice, jagged with bergs of all sizes jutting from the surfaces, he had been looking forward to the hustle and bustle of Dawson.

     No people could be seen on the eerily quiet streets. Many windows were shuttered. Except for the acrid smoke wafting above the chimneys, the place resembled a frigid ghost town. 

     “Vad happened?” Filip’s breath froze as he spoke.

     “Don’t know.” Erik’s scarf muffled his words.

     He and Filip pulled the sled up the icy deserted street. The restaurants were closed. The hotels were full. The opera house was a burned-out shell.

     “Let’s go over to Fort Herchmer,” Erik said.

     They proceeded at a snail’s pace to avoid searing their lungs with the bitterly cold air. The ravens squawked at them as they passed.

     When they stepped inside the NWMP offices, they took a few minutes to soak in the warmth.

     “If you’re wanting food, we can’t help you,” the officer greeted them.

     Erik unwrapped his scarf. “We brought our own. But what’s going on here?”

     The bearded man’s expression softened. “Too many people, too few provisions.”

     Now that the warmth had begun penetrating Erik’s mittens, he removed them. Filip was already blowing on his hands. 

     Sergeant Ibsen came through the side door. “Stryker?”

     “Good to see you again.” Erik shook his outstretched hand.

     “That’s Bentnor,” Ibsen gestured toward his cohort. Erik nodded to him.

     “Guess there won’t be much of a market for my spirits, then.” He sighed. “We would have been better off staying home.”

     Ibsen grinned. “On the contrary. There’s plenty of gold. You’ll be able to command a premium price.”

     Bentnor fed a shovelful of coal into the burner.

     “We need to find two people.” Erik said. “Sam McGee was working at Jimmy Kerry’s saloon last I knew.”

     Ibsen rubbed his chin. “Don’t think I know him.” He looked to the other officer, who was shaking his head. “If he’s not there, try Bill McPhee’s. There are a lot of men staying there.”

     “The other is a…” Erik was almost thankful for the warmth rising in his neck. “A showgirl.” He couldn’t bring himself to call Miss Garrick’s friend a “whore,” even though she was. “Last fall she was at the Little Paris.” 

     People came from all walks of life to seek their fortunes in the Klondike. Those who did not strike gold had to find other ways to support themselves, return home, or move on. In 1899, word reached Dawson that gold had been discovered in Nome, Alaska. More than 8000 people left Dawson that summer to chase new dreams of easy riches.

Ann Markim

Website

Facebook

 

 Amazon print or digital

Intrepid Women of the Klondike

     When we learn about the Klondike Gold Rush of 1897-98, the names we usually hear are male – those Klondike “kings” who struck it rich. But many women also caught the “gold fever” that ignited the frenzied stampede northward in search of treasure, a fever that spread quickly thanks to an economic depression. They came from all walks of life, some with husbands but many alone. Their reasons for venturing into the unknown were as varied as those of the men, ranging from desperation for money to feed themselves and their families to a desire for adventure.

     About 1500 women crossed over the White Pass or the Chilkoot Trail in their quest to reach Dawson City and the Klondike River region. Here are four of them.

  Mollie Walsh Bartlett

      Mollie Walsh left her home in Butte, Montana to join the Klondike Gold Rush in the fall of 1897. On the boat north, she met a Presbyterian preacher who began building a church upon his arrival in Skagway. Mollie raised money and helped build the structure, then became active in the congregation.

     In March 1898, Mollie bought restaurant supplies and had them packed up the White Pass Trail to Log Cabin, in Canadian territory. There she set up a successful grub tent and roadhouse, where she served freight packers and gold stampeders. She became known as the “Angel of White Pass Trail.” Many men became enamored with Mollie, and she had her share of suitors.

      She moved to Dawson in June, opened a restaurant and became involved with Mike Bartlett, a pack train driver with a drinking problem. They were married in December. The next summer, she left the Klondike with enough money to make a home in Seattle, Washington, with her newborn son. Her husband went to seek gold in Nome, Alaska.

     When Mike joined her in Seattle, their marriage deteriorated and she left him. In 1902, Mike shot her in the back outside her home. He was acquitted of the murder charge by reason of insanity and sentenced to an asylum. The court called it a "crime of passion," as they often did in those times. After his release he hung himself, leaving their two-year-old son orphaned.

   Kate Rockwell

     Kathleen Eloise Rockwell lived in New York City working as a chorus girl and performing in vaudeville houses. She moved to Spokane, Washington, following a job opportunity with a variety theater where she lived on dance and drink tips. When Kate heard of the Klondike Gold Rush, she and a friend immediately left for the Yukon.

     After arriving in Skagway in 1899, she continued northward, with stops at Lake Bennett, Whitehorse and other settlements along the way where she tap-danced to support herself. In Dawson, she was offered a job with the Savoy Theatrical Company, the largest theater troupe in the Klondike. Her risqué “Flame Dance” was very popular, and she earned as much as $750 a night performing for newly rich, but lonely, miners. She became known as “Klondike Kate, the Belle of the Yukon.”      

      Kate amassed a significant fortune. Working with her lover, Alexander Pantages, she sold bottles of watered-down champagne to inebriated miners, thus adding to her riches. Dawson’s prosperity began to wane in 1902, and Pantages convinced Kate to leave for the West Coast of the U.S. There he used much of her money to buy theaters in the Pacific Northwest and persuaded her to take her show on the road to earn more money to support his pursuit. She returned from one such tour to find he had married another woman.

       To support herself, she again took her act on tour, performing in saloons and theaters up and down the West Coast.  This life took its toll on her and she retired from the stage, nearly broke. She traded her house in Seattle for a homestead claim of 320 acres near Brothers, Oregon. She stayed at her claim for the requisite seven years, making improvements to the land and outbuildings then sold the land and moved to Bend, where she built a lodging house.

      She had a short-lived marriage to a cowboy followed by a happier one that lasted thirteen years to a miner who died in Alaska. Two years later, in 1948, she married again—this time to a longtime friend and accountant Bill Van Duren. They retired to Sweet Home, Oregon, where Rockwell died in her sleep in 1957 at age 84.

  Lucille Hunter

     In 1897, nineteen-year-old Lucille Hunter left Michigan with her husband, Charles, for the Klondike. They were among the few African Americans who joined the gold rush.  After leaving with a group of stampeders from Wrangell, Alaska, they followed the Stikine River through the coastal range and then overland to Dawson. This was considered one of the most difficult routes to the gold fields.

     Lucille was pregnant at the time. She and Charles stopped at Teslin Lake, where she gave birth to a daughter. The indigenous Tagish community apparently had not seen black people before and were at a loss for what to call them. They referred to the Hunters as “just another kind of white person.”

     Most of the others in their group stayed at Teslin Lake for the winter, but the Hunters decided to go on alone by dogsled over hundreds of miles of snow in temperatures that dipped as low as 60 degrees below zero. They and their infant daughter arrived in Dawson just after Christmas in 1897, well ahead of most of the stampeders. This allowed them to stake three claims along Bonanza Creek, where they lived in primitive conditions, digging gold and raising their daughter.

      A few years later, Charles also staked some silver claims near Mayo. The couple mined gold and silver until his death in 1939. Lucille continued to operate the mining claims and raised her grandson, since her daughter had died earlier. When construction began on the Alaska Highway in 1942, Lucille and her grandson moved to Whitehorse. She set up a laundry business and her grandson made the deliveries around town. 

     In later years, she lost her sight but kept up with current events by listening to her radio. She died in 1972 at age 93.

  Martha Black

      Martha Purdy and her husband Will left Chicago and their wealthy society life for the Klondike in 1898. Her brother George accompanied them, but they left their sons with Martha’s mother in Kansas. When they reached Seattle, Will was called on business to San Francisco.  While there he changed his mind and suggested they go to Hawaii instead. Her biography, My Ninety Years, states: "I wrote to Will that I had made up my mind to go to the Klondyke (sic) as originally planned, that I would never go back to him, so undependable he had proven, that I never wanted to hear from or see him again. He went his way. I went mine."

     Martha persuaded her brother to accompany her on the trip north. They arrived in Skagway in July and joined a party that set out on the Chilkoot trail. A fashionable woman, she found her clothes ill-suited for the climb. "As the day advanced the trail became steeper, the air warmer, and footholds without support impossible. I shed my sealskin jacket. I cursed my hot, high buckram collar, my tight heavily boned corsets, my long corduroy skirt, my full bloomers, which I had to hitch up with every step."

     As she was traversing the trail, Martha discovered she was pregnant. The party stopped at Excelsior Creek, where she and George staked placer claims, which they planned to work the following spring, then went on to Dawson. Single and pregnant, she was shunned by Dawson society. The town was overrun with stampeders and there were few accommodations available. George rented a cabin across the Klondike River, in a less reputable area near the brothels. She gave birth to a son in the tiny cabin.

     While she was still in Dawson, her father arrived and convinced his reluctant daughter to return home with him on the condition that she would return if her claim, left in George’s care, panned out $10,000 worth of gold or more. In June 1900, she received word that her claims had surpassed that level of production. She returned to Dawson, where she established and managed a successful sawmill and mining camp financed by her family. This and her original claim made her financially independent and she was finally welcomed into the local social scene. In 1904, her divorce from Will was finalized and she married Dawson City lawyer George Black.

      George became Commissioner of the Yukon in 1912 and later served four terms in the Canadian Parliament. When he resigned for health reasons, Martha ran in his place in the 1935 election and won. At age 69, she became the second female Member of Parliament to serve in the House of Commons. She was known as the First Lady of the Yukon.

      “What I wanted was not shelter and safety, but liberty and opportunity,” she wrote in her autobiography. On October 31, 1957, Martha died in Whitehorse at the age of 94.

*** 

     I often include real-life historical figures in my novels. Although I didn’t include any of these women specifically, they and several other women of the Klondike provided the inspiration for Katie, Millie and Grace in The Claim. Intrepid female trailblazers of our past, like Mollie, Kate, Lucille and Martha, paved the way for the courageous female leaders of our present and our future.  

Ann Markim

Website

Facebook

 

 Amazon print or digital

The Father of the Yukon – Jack McQuesten

      The Yukon River is the third longest river in North America. It flows northwest from the Coastal Range mountains of northern British Columbia, Canada, through the Yukon Territory and Alaska to the Bering Sea. Long before ships carried loads of gold to Seattle and San Francisco in 1897, sparking the Klondike Gold Rush, trappers, miners and traders inhabited areas around the Yukon River and there was a lot of movement back and forth between Canada and Alaska Territory. One of the most prominent of these early settlers was Jack McQuesten, the Father of the Yukon.

Jack McQuesten

      Leroy Napoleon (Jack) McQuesten was born in New England in 1836, but grew up on a farm in Illinois. At age 13, he accompanied family members on a quest for riches in the 1849 California Gold Rush. Even as a young man, he was an imposing figure, standing well over six feet tall and weighing more than 200 pounds.

     By 1858, Jack had trekked north to British Columbia, Canada, where he became a voyager for the Hudson‘s Bay Company. A few years later he left and established a fur trade of his own, and by 1863 he was mining for gold on the Frasier River.

     In 1871, McQuesten learned that the United States had purchased Alaska from Russia in 1867. Two years later, the Hudson’s Bay Company (which Russia had permitted to operate in Alaska) was forced to leave, and the Alaska Commercial Company (ACC) assumed the property they left behind. The ACC established trading posts all over the Alaska Territory. He and a group pf cohorts went to Alaska, where they prospected for gold and became involved in the prosperous fur trade.

     At the request of an indigenous chief, McQuesten established a trading post in 1874. The post, which he named Fort Reliance was located in Canada on the east bank of the Yukon River, seven miles downstream of the confluence of the Yukon and Klondike Rivers. Fort Reliance became the center of the fur trade and mining activities in the upper Yukon River and remained so for more than a decade.

McQuesten's Family

     In 1878, McQuesten married Satejdenalno, an indigenous woman who became known as Katherine or Kate. She was from the Kokrines village, and had attended the Russian mission school. Fluent in Koyukon, Russian, and English, she often acted as an intermediary for her husband and his partners when communicating with the local indigenous people. 

   

     McQuesten belonged to the Yukon Order of Pioneers. This was a fraternal organization established to provide for the welfare of its members and for local policing and adjudication in the absence of government authorities and formal law. Later, McQuesten helped to found a similar brotherhood, the Alaskan Order of Yukon Pioneers, and was its first elected president. Their motto was the Golden Rule: "Do unto others as you would have others do unto you."  

                                                             

Remains of Fort Reliance Chimney

     Fort Reliance also served as the compass for the region. Two examples remain today. The mouth of the Fortymile River and settlement there is 40 miles downstream from Fort Reliance. The mouth of the Sixtymile River is 60 miles upstream from Fort Reliance. Gold was discovered at Forty Mile in 1886, and it became the first major frontier settlement.

     By then, Fort Reliance was in decline. McQuesten and two partners built a store at Forty Mile in 1887. The three men grubstaked prospectors, giving them credit on their supplies until they could mine enough gold to pay off their bills.

 

McQuesten's store in Circle City, Alaska

     When gold was discovered downriver at Birch Creek in 1892, McQuesten grubstaked half the miners who set off to check out the new area. When the prospectors proved  the area even richer than Forty Mile, McQuesten followed in 1894 and set up a successful store at Circle City, Alaska. 

     Yukon Jack, the 100-proof Canadian whiskey, was named after Jack McQuesten. He met Jack London in 1897 and their meeting is believed to have inspired some of London’s novels that were set in the northland. 

     Predicting food shortages as a result of the influx of prospectors after the Klondike gold strike, McQuesten moved his family to California in 1897. He died there in 1909.

     In Yukon Places and Names, R.C. Coutts wrote (p.175): “His name was a byword for integrity and honesty. His trust in his fellow man was unbounded and seldom wrong. Nowhere in the literature of the Yukon is it possible to find a critical or unkind word about him. It is rare anywhere to find a man as highly regarded during his own lifetime as was Jack McQuesten.”

     Is there a better way to be remembered?

     McQuesten makes an appearance in my novel, The Claim. The Jack referred to in the excerpt below is Jack McQuesten.

EXCERPT:

     “I’m goin’ to get me a room for the night.” Will turned toward the door.

     Erik started. “You’re not going to camp with me on the riverbank?”

     “Naw. Men up here are honest. No need to police your gear and the skows are tied up secure.” Will grinned. “This here is the Paris of Alaska. With some of that money ya paid me, I intend to have myself a spree before we head back to Forty Mile.”

     Erik’s brow furrowed. “A what?”

     “Spree.” Jack said. “Miners let off steam by going to all the saloons buying drinks and cigars for everyone. They don’t get to town often so they’re wound tight as a tick.” He frowned. “When they get out of hand, they can bust up a place pretty bad.”

     Erik swallowed his reproach. He’d met men up here with Oxford degrees, and the long summer days and winter nights made customs of Outside society seem absurd. Will had taught him not to pass judgement.

     “Ya want to join me?” Another grin spread across Will’s face.

     “No, I’m going to turn in early.”

     Will shook his head. “Then, I’ll see ya in the mornin’.”

     Jack turned to Erik. “Now let’s talk turkey.” 

Ann Markim

Website

Facebook

 

 Amazon print or digital

 

North to Alaska by Kaye Spencer #prairierosepubs #goldrush #Alaska #classicmovies

 

On or about August 16, 1896, gold was discovered in the Klondike region of the Yukon, which is in northwestern Canada. When word of this discovery reached Seattle and San Francisco, prospectors swarmed to the area between 1896 and 1899.

 

IMAGE: Klondike Map - Citation below 

This gold rush has several names: Yukon Gold Rush, Alaska Gold Rush, Alaska-Yukon Gold Rush, and Last Great Gold Rush. It’s estimated that 100,000 prospectors tried their hand as diggers and panners. This wasn't the last great gold rush in Alaska, however. In 1899, the Klondike area was all but abandoned for the new gold field in Nome.¹  The Nome Gold Rush lasted from 1899 to 1909-ish.

 

IMAGE: Prospective prospectors on Chilkoot Pass near Skagway, Alaska - Citation below.

 

But I’m not here for an Alaskan gold rush history lesson.

I’m interested in a song that introduced a movie by the same title and that both tell a story about the Nome gold rush.

Coming up on August 22^nd, Johnny Horton’s song North to Alaska will have its 60^th anniversary.

 

Right around the corner on November 13^th, the movie North to Alaska will celebrate its 60^th anniversary.

 

The movie is a comedy-western (of sorts) starring John Wayne, Capucine, Ernie Kovacs, Stewart Granger, and Fabian.  The movie was based on a 1939 three-act play, Birthday Gift, by the Hungarian novelist, playwright, and screenwriter Ladislas Fodor aka Laszlo Fodor (1898-1978). It is set during the Nome gold rush.

Johnny Horton’s song introduced the movie as a set-up to the storyline. The song topped Billboard magazine’s Country Singles chart. Horton co-wrote the song. Sadly, he died in a car wreck on November 5, 1960. He was 35.

Side note: His second wife was Hank Williams’ widow, Billie Jean Jones. In one of those weird coincidences in life, Johnny Horton’s and Hank Williams’ last public performances were at Austin’s Skyline Club—Horton on November 4, 1960 and Williams on December 19, 1952, AND they were married to Billie Jean Jones at the time.² (Williams died January 1, 1953 near Oak Hill, West Virginia and Horton died November 5, 1960 after leaving the Skyline Club near Milano, Texas.)

For your listening and viewing pleasure, here is Johnny Horton singing North to Alaska over scenes from the movie. It’s great fun.

 

Until next time,
Kaye Spencer

 

Stay in contact with Kaye—

Amazon Author Page | Instagram | Blog | Twitter | Pinterest | Facebook | BookBub

References:

1. Nome Gold Field information HERE
2. Horton and Williams - Last performances: HERE and HERE
North to Alaska MOVIE
North to Alaska SONG
Klondike Map: created by en:User:ish ishwar in 2005, Tlingit-map-modify, CC BY 2.0
Chilcoot Pass: Cantwell, George G., ChilkootPass steps, marked as public domain, more details on Wikimedia Commons