As the gentleman’s agreement not to fleece Denver locals wasn’t enough to shield con artists, Soapy Smith and his gang set up shop in Creede, Colorado, where he opened the Orleans Club saloon and gambling hall.
Soapy ran the town by corrupting local officials to intimidate anyone who wouldn’t take a kickback. The gang killed with near impunity, claiming self-defense if anyone spoke up or questioned the cons they fell victim to.
Soapy eventually got involved in the political scene. He made his brother-in-law the chief of policeand the 1892 municipal election had a slate of Soapy-owned candidates, bought and paid for before the first ballot was cast. The corruption ran so thick that the Creede city hall was held in the back room of the Orleans Club.
The number of schemes going on ran the gamut, from his gang taking a “collection” in the saloon and gambling halls to build a church to set up a mining syndicate office to fleece prospects of their gold dust. Anyone complaining about being ripped off was met with guns. More often than not, the miners gave up their ore more than their lives.
After a fire devastated downtown Creede, Soapy returned to Denver to run his schemes, but the town had changed during his short time away. He adapted as any good con would, by opening the Tivoli Club on the corner of 17th and Larimer.
In the evenings, Soapy would go down to the first-floor saloon to deal poker and three-card Monte to the rubes his men steered in from the street.
Soapy made it back to Denver just in time to be a footnote in the City Hall War, a showdown between Colorado’s Governor Davis Waite and local officials he appointed to oversee the city. Several commissioners were asked to resignand when they didn’t, the Governor mustered the Colorado National Guard to surround City Hall on 14th and Larimer and remove the commissioners from office by force.
The Commissioners weren’t going to be removed without a fight; they called on the Police and hastily appointed “sheriff deputies,” including Soapy, to stand against the militia. Some of the 200-plus men on the side of the Denver officials were con artists like Soapy and his gang.
It was rumored that Soapy yelled at the militia: “If your men take one step against city hall, you and Waite will be dead.”
Eventually, the standoff ended with no bloodshed the deputized grifters faded back to their seedy roles around Union Station. Even though the locals were not to be swindled, it didn’t mean that all were in love with what Soapy and others were doing. Efforts were being made to “clean up” Larimer and Market streets, addressing the negative reputation they had fostered.
On the move again
The writing was on the wall yet again for Soapy Smith, but the main reason for leaving was the Silver Crash of 1893. When the federal government transitioned from the silver to the gold standard, many fortunes were lost in Colorado, prompting prospectors to leave the state in search of more lucrative opportunities.
In 1894, Soapy spent some time in Houston, where he met with the President of Mexico and proposed creating a Mexican Foreign Legion with Soapy in command. “Colonel” Smith wanted 80,000 pesos to run the recruiting operation, but the President offered 4,000.
He went back to Denver to set up a recruiting office on Larimer, which attracted a good number of volunteers. The contract was canceled after the President learned about Soapy’s nefarious activities.
Soapy’s reputation made it nearly impossible to grift at his regular haunts. The statewide reformation movement prevented him from starting up again and even Creede shunned him. The police chief instructed him to keep moving, citing towns like Salida, Leadville, Aspen, Telluride, and Silverton, which also gave him the same response.
Soapy and the gang eventually reunited in Seattle, where they convinced him that better prospects were to be had in Skagway, Alaska. They sailed for new fortunes in the Klondike in the summer of 1897.
Soapy’s Last Stand
Soapy Smith opened Jeff’s Place in Skagway, which became his base of operations. It was a perfect place to swindle gold rush fortunes since prospectors were stranded in town when winter set in.
When he couldn’t get the gold dust from the miners through gambling, he invited them in to see an eagle he had in a back room. He’d knock them out and the miner would wake up in the alley without any legal recourse to gain their money back.
He recycled previous schemes, like establishing an enlistment office for the Spanish-American War. When the recruiters undressed for a medical examination, Soapy’s men rifled through their clothes.
He also created other phony businesses, a merchants’ exchange, a cut-rate ticket office, reliable packers and a telegraph office. It would cost $5 to send a telegram to the States, with a reply costing another $5. Soapy managed to conceal the absence of telegraph lines from Skagway.
Soapy was running the town in the spring of 1898, but the honest locals were already not happy with his con games.
The beginning of the end for Soapy started when a miner put down a dollar for a drink and complained about not getting change back and the bartender threw him out.
The miner returned with a U.S. Marshal and Soapy’s bartender shot both men. A vigilante crowd grabbed the bartender to hang him, but Soapy stepped in, claiming that there would be a trial.
But the bartender was found not guilty, proving that he had total control over Skagway. In the summer of 1897, a Committee of 101 was formed to protect the townspeople. In response, Soapy created his own Committee of 303.
The July 4th parade was the breaking point for the Committee of 101, where members were incensed about Soapy’s strutting during the parade. They secretly met to figure out a way to rid themselves of Soapy, but his gang dispersed the gatherers.
On July 8th, a miner came to Skagway with $2,300 in gold dust. He was lured by the eagle ruse to Soapy’s back room, where he was robbed. The victim went to Frank H. Reid, the head of the Committee of 101, where the group marched to Jeff’s Place.
Soapy met them with Winchester rifles in hand, so the mob retired to a wharf and barricaded themselves in for a meeting. Soapy went in to confront the Committee, Reid saw him coming and fatally shot him. As he was fatally struck, he mortally wounded the guard.
End of a Grifter
Soapy’s funeral was a simple ceremony with few attendees. The text read was from Proverbs 13:15: “The way of the transgressor is hard.” He was buried in a pine box with an unmarked grave.
The man who shot Soapy Smith died 12 days after being shot and was the hero of Skagway. His grave was 20 feet from Soapy’s with an epitaph that read, “He gave his life for the honor of Skagway.”
While Soapy was remembered primarily as a villain in Alaska, many of his friends in Denver from the old days recalled a different Soapy.
Following his death, The Denver Times wrote that Soapy was known as much for his charity as his swindling abilities. He returned losses to those he knew couldn’t afford it. On Christmas day, he bought turkeys and passed them out from the same site as his soap stands with the greeting, “Merry Christmas and good luck.”
“He was the warmest-hearted man I ever knew. He never threw over a friend.”
Soapy had a colorful life and legendary downfall, but he represents the more nefarious aspect of frontier life, and that making an easy buck isn’t as easy as it seems.
Many, if not all, of Soapy’s old haunts are long gone, including his office on the corner of 17th and Larimer. But Soapy’s spirit is still alive in Skaguay, Alaska, with an annual wake/festival held on July 8th.
