CHARITY JANE DILLON
(AS TOLD BY ALBERT WARD IN 1930)
In 1930
Mr. Albert Ward of Townsend, aged 89, a pioneer of Montana, visited the
Historical Library at Helena and he brought to David Hilger, librarian
at that time, his own version of Charity Jane Dillon’s death
in 1872, and
sketched her cabin as he had known it, including the road, creek and
spring
near which it stood. Here is the story as he related it:
“Travelers
on the old Hog’em-Radersburg road will see from the top of
the hill going
toward Radersburg a white wooden cross, 4x6 feet that was not there
last
spring. Also an engraved marble marker which marks what has been known
before only as ‘the Old Woman’s Grave’
with the name of Charity Jane Dillon.
A letter in Mr. Hilger’s files, dated August 17, 1930 states
that this
cross was erected by Mrs. Flo Holling, Mrs. Roy Kingsley and Mr. and
Mrs.
Jesse Knight in deference to the memory of a courageous and kindly
woman.
Those whom human sympathy had moved to this commemoration of a lonely
grave
covered the sunken mound with the flat rocks characteristic of this
region.
As they dug down to set the foot of the cross they could see the corner
of the coffin box in its shallow grave.
“The letter
states further that The Vermont Marble Works, preparing for extensive
development
in this region, has offered at some future time to place a polished
marble
marker. The women of Radersburg hope later to place a similar white
cross
at the grave of a child on the other side of the hill. The rough board
that once marked the grave has fallen. The child was buried there by
members
of an emigrant train. The train went on but the child’s
mother, leaving
behind on the lonely hill the body of her baby, took with her the
heartache
only a mother could feel.
“Charity
Dillon has become the subject of a legend. Her characteristics and even
her name are matters of contradictory stories. An early account names
her
‘Dillon, alias Finn.’ The story is that as a young
girl in the east, she
was engaged to a young man who came west to find his fortune. Losing
track
of him and waiting in vain for word, she found him — married,
settled and
happy. And Jane Dillon, with strength of character rare in any day,
kept
her own counsel, gave no hint of whom the man might be, whom she had
come
to find, but went her way and lived her own independent life, and never
married.
“She died
young; some accounts say 25, some 30, and some 32.
“Near a
spring she built her a four-room cabin, a kitchen, a dining room and a
bedroom; and at the opposite end of the house a public hall with a bar,
for she kept an inn where travelers were welcomed and refreshed. It was
not an over-night stop but a place where passersby could always be sure
of a meal.
“So sturdily
kind was she to everyone, so ready with good offices that some assert
her
name ‘Charity’ was given her in recognition of her
qualities. But others
remember that there were ‘three cardinal gulches’
here — Faith, Hope and
Charity. There was the Charity Flume Company of the '60s, so those may
be right who say the name is descriptive of her geographical location
rather
than her soul.”
DEATH REMAINS
A MYSTERY
“Some persons
who knew her say she drank. And that would not be strange if it were
true,
considering the defeat of her emotional life, and her grief and
spiritual
isolation.
“She was
found dead in bed. A companion of Mr. Ward passing the house, found her
body and notified those living nearest. Those who found her waited
until
others arrived. And there again the stories are contradictory. Some say
her trunk and personal belongings had been ransacked, that she was
known
to have money secreted in her trunk and that a hired man whom she had
befriended
was missing. Other gossips of the day made much out of the half empty
demijohn
of whiskey under her bed. But if it were there that, too, would not
have
been strange. She might have kept only enough for immediate use at the
bar where casual strangers might be expected to drop in at any time and
store the surplus in a less accessible place.
“She was dead, and her body was
buried
on a hillside where a slab, long fallen, marked the place.
“The determination of residents
of
Radersburg to keep alive incidents of the town’s early
history is significant
of the awakened interest in the vanishing pioneer period.”
—
—————————
–
“In preserving the history of
Charity
Dillon, we are seeking to preserve the history of some of the pioneers
who did so much and paved the way for future generations to live here
peacefully
and comfortably.”
—
—————————
–
From Montana,
the Magazine of Western
History,
Spring 1971:
“The
passing traveler would be apt to miss it,
were it not for an iron cross, four feet high, painted a glaring white.
Almost hidden among greasewood brush and scrub pines, about 200 feet
from
the upper side of the old Corrine — Fort Benton stage road,
is a lonely
grave. It lies midway between the ghost town of Radersburg and the
bridge
spanning the Missouri at Townsend, 40 miles southeast of Helena. The
grave
is covered solidly with slabs of stone, evidently put there a century
ago
to prevent wild animals from digging up the body. It is the final
resting
place of a mysterious pioneer woman. The story, what we know if it, has
overtones of faithless love, generously bestowed favors, and latter-day
efforts to give recognition and meaning to a lonely life.
“Why was a woman buried alone on
the
desolate hillside instead of in the Radersburg cemetery? Did the
citizens
of Radersburg, once a booming mining town, conclude she was not the
kind
of woman who should be buried among good Christian folk? Was her name
Charity
Dillon, as the old headstone attests, or was it Priscilla Jane Allen,
as
some old-timers of Broadwater County still aver? A century later,
nobody
knows for sure.
“Women of the community who
concluded
that the grave deserved marking with a new cross and headstone believe
that she was so gentle, kind and generous that she became known as
‘Charity.’
Others believe that because there was a gulch of that name in the
vicinity,
it was fastened upon her. Still others say freighters, bullwhackers and
other travelers gave her the name because of extra-ordinary favors she
bestowed on them without charge. One old-timer says there were plenty
of
them: ‘Any time of the day,’ he reminisced,
‘you would see wagon trains
that reached for a mile with horses, mules and oxen.’
“The lettering on the lonely
headstone
is blurred and unreadable until traced with a crayon, when it reads:
CHARITY DILLON
DIED 1872
KNOWN AS THE
OLD
WOMAN’S GRAVE
“There is also mystery on
mystery.
Was the hand that inscribed the old headstone the same hand that rudely
carved the word MIZPAH
on a cliff in a rocky canyon some distance away
from the grave? In its issue of January 20, 1966, under the heading
‘History
of Broadwater County,’ the Townsend Star includes the
reminiscences of
William Sherlock, born in California in 1870, who came to the
Radersburg
area as a youngster of nine years. He briefly mentions the lonely grave
and continues:
“This story has to do with a
strange
marking carved in the rocky gulch about one-half mile below the old
grave.
I saw it as I rode horseback one day; just one word, something like
MIZPAH.
It was deciphered to me to mean “May the Lord watch between
Thee and Me
while we are separated one from another.” This expression
comes from Genesis
31:49. Who carved it?’
“Was it the handicraft of
Charity’s
erst-while fiancé, stricken with remorse and a guilty
conscience
because he had not lived up to his promise to come back for her? Who
else
would have put that cryptic text from the Bible on the wall of a hidden
canyon?
“But to return to the woman of
mystery:
‘Charity’ did not die in 1872, but in 1870,
according to a squib in the
Helena Herald of February 25, 1870. It read: ‘Found
Dead— We had received
a letter from a well known citizen of Springville, Meagher County,
stating
that John Boyce arrived in town on the evening of the 23rd and reported
he had found, dead in her home, a woman by the name of Mrs. Charity
Allen.
[No particulars were given as to the cause of her death.] Mrs. Allen,
for
the past three or four months, has kept the Summit House that is about
half way between Springville and Radersburg, on the main road.
“It would seem to be evident from
the erroneous date on the headstone that whoever erected it was not in
close contact with Charity, else the correct date of 1870 would have
been
chiseled instead of 1872. It may have been years after death that the
grave
was marked. Some think that after the wife of the man she loved died,
he
was responsible for the marker.
“In a letter to the Montana
Historical
Society, dated August 17, 1930, Mrs. Jessie Knight of Townsend tells
about
the cross over the grave: ‘The grave was known locally as
“the Old Woman’s
Grave.” Now, Charity was not an old woman; she was a
broken-hearted, lone
woman who tried to hide herself in a grave, known only to a few, who
died
at about thirty-two years of age, and for years laid in a grave alone
and
forgotten by all. No one placed a flower on that barren spot; no one to
speak a kind word or tell of a kind act. Those things are forgotten. I
have often been by the place and wondered why some one who must have
known
her did not fix the grave; if there was not someone who could remember.
Evidently there was no one. I’ll tell you all I have found
out.
“The story was told by some of
the
old timers, who as children, heard their folks talk. Many years ago, a
young woman from the south, Missouri, Kansas or Iowa, joined an Oregon
train, to marry the man she was engaged to, so she rode horseback out
into
the great unknown to find him. Radersburg was the place she was to find
the greatest of all things, love, home and happiness. Arrived, she
found
him married to another woman and had children. Being of a fine nature,
she kept to herself the name of the man and no one to this day has any
idea who he was. Just how she came to have a half way house across the
road from where the grave is, I don’t know.
“Mrs. Knight’s letter
to the Historical
Society went on to say: ‘This lone grave always attracted me.
I wanted
to do something but didn’t know what to do. Last winter,
along in the night,
I saw a white cross. I thought it a dream but afterward saw it twice
again
and was told to put a cross on the grave. This, to your way of
thinking,
may look like a fancy, but be that as it may, I tried to do this kind
act
and would like it to stand there while I live.
“So last year [1929] my husband
made
a rude cross of 2x4’s and Mrs. Ray Kingsley and Mrs. Flo
Holling and myself
put it up over the grave. Would like some kind of marker if we could
get
correct information on name and age of this lone woman who lies in a
lone
grave.
“Mrs. Knight made no mention of
the
old marker with its crudely incised lettering. Did she conclude,
perhaps,
that it had a ribald connotation?
“At any rate, seventeen more
years
passed. The frail wooden cross rotted still more, the old headstone
sank
into almost complete illegibility. Then in 1946 a group of Townsend
women,
representing the Broadwater County Federation of Women’s
Clubs had a cross
fashioned out of a two-inch welded pipe, painted it white and on July
11,
conducted a solemn ceremony at Charity’s grave. At the same
time they dedicated
a new marble marker, the stone donated by the Vermont Marble Company.
The
legend from the headstone was copied on the new.
“Later Mr. Moore appended the
following
note to his eulogy: ‘Just as the above ceremony was
completed, three magnificent
rainbows appeared in the sky. This was the first time that anyone of
those
present had beheld such an array of color in the sky at one
time— the first
time, in fact, in the life of the Old Man of the Mountains...’
“Charity Dillon remains a
mystery.
How long did she search for her lover? Where did it take her? How long
did she live in the Radersburg area? What did she do for a living
before
she opened the Summit House? Why is hers a lonely grave?
“A woman of mystery in life,
Charity
Dillon remains so in death.”
—
—————————
–
The following is a ballad by Charles
D. Greenfield, from Montana,
the Magazine of Western History,
Vol.
XXI, No. 2, pp. 86-88. [Some of the stanzas are of questionable
validity.]
THE
GRAVE OF CHARITY
Radersburg there still persists
A
very deep disparity
About
the fate of one it lists
By
the maiden name of Charity.
She lies, t’was said by
Goody
Knight,
Lost
in the Limestone Hills
The
victim of a lover’s slight—
That
heartless wound that kills!
Her lonely grave seen but by few
Gives
Charity Dillon as her name,
Her
year of death as seventy-two,
No
word from whence she came.
Old Goody Knight told of her
plight,
How,
from her lover parted,
She
hid her hurt deep out of sight
And
died quite broken hearted.
While still a maid, Good Goody
said,
Miss
Allen (or was it Dillon?)
Fell
deeply for a poor young blade
Who
proved a faithless villain.
To the West he went on fortune
bent
Insisting
she must follow.
As
soon as hopeful news was sent —
A
promise that proved hollow.
The months did fly, the years
dragged by
While
Charity fondly waited.
No
word did come, no fond reply —
A
maiden state seemed fated.
On trusty mare she headed West
Intolerant
of more delay,
To
find the man whom she loved best
And
marry right away.
Tom Moore recalled she found
him wed,
With
children by a clinging wife,
And
turned away and quietly fled
To
Summit and a loveless life.
She hid her hurt behind the bar
At
the lonely Summit Road House,
Caring
for those who traveled far,
With
sorrow as her only spouse.
The Summit House soon spread
her fame
For
generous treatment at the bar—
And
some dare hint, to lasting shame,
Her
charity exceeded that, by far!
There Boyce of Springville
found her dead
Untended
where she’d fallen,
And
Helena’s Weekly Herald said
She
was really Mrs. Allen.
Did Charity die of too much rye?
Did
ptomaine make her deathly ill?
Or
was she foully murdered by
A
hand that robbed the till?
In name and date, as maid or
mate,
Or
one who lived in sin?
No
one with surety can relate
What
really did her in.
Her name was Allen, the Census
said:
Priscilla
S., aged forty years,
And
eighteen seventy found her dead—
No
kith or kin to spill their tears.
Missouri
was not her home, but California,
A
pauper she — no life of ease
To
help her on her lonely way.
Her
death? It’s cause? Of course, D.T.’s!
Reprise:
In Radersburg there still
persists
A
very great disparity
About
the fate of one it lists
By
the gracious name of Charity.
Charity
Dillon Gravesite
