Official Newspaper of Eddy County since 1883
June 29, 2018 — Limpy Jack Clayton died in a Jamestown hospital on this day in 1893.
During his 60 years of wandering, Limpy made news wherever he went. He was described as a gambler, horse thief, a Stutsman County Attorney, gunman, saloon keeper, Civil War veteran, Indian fighter, stagecoach driver, whiskey trader and the secretary of the Sunday school. Major Dana Wright, called him an “all-around useful citizen.”
Clayton’s past is sketchy, but it’s believed he grew up as John Hamilton in Troy or Schenectady, N.Y. In about 1871, he drifted into Duluth, where he traded horses and drove a stagecoach, and it was there that he got to know Jack O’Neal and Dave Mullen, who later died with their boots on in Bismarck.
The three men soon got into trouble with the law. During the trial, Hamilton forgot himself and testified against Mullen, for which Mullen shot him in the leg. They must’ve made up, because the three men then drifted west together and settled in a huddle of tents — the original nucleus of Jamestown. For unknown reasons, John Hamilton became J.C. Clayton at this point, and thanks to Dave Mullen’s bullet, the name Limpy was soon added.
Dana Wright wrote, “Limpy stayed in Jamestown trying the saloon business and other lines of missionary work. He had a certain amount of ability and education, had travelled (sic) much, had made a trip to China, but his talents did not seem to land in any permanent line of uplift.”
Wright also said that Limpy displayed a flair for promoting his saloon and was known to send bell ringers through the camp to announce “Free lunch at Limpy Jack’s tonight.” It wasn’t long, though, before a U.S. Marshal from Fargo reminded Limpy that he forgot to get his Territorial license for selling liquor. So, Clayton closed his saloon and started trading liquor for Indian ponies — which brought another visit from the Marshal and the end to another of Limpy’s careers.
Clayton’s settlement was on the banks of Stoney Creek, about 22 miles north of Jamestown on the Ft. Totten Trail. Wells County Historian Lois Forrest said the piece of land on which he squatted was referred to as “Limpy Jack’s dirt ranch.” She wrote that in the cliffs along the creek, he scooped out two large dugouts, each measuring about 75 by 25 feet, with clay walls 7 feet high. One was for his beloved horses, and the other was for himself and his new business venture – running a roadhouse featuring gambling and whiskey. It also served as the first overnight stagecoach stop between Jamestown and Fort Totten.
His limp got worse after doing his part to bring in the New Year. When he started for home, he was carrying a heavy internal load of “40 rod” whiskey. The temperature was 37 below.
Major Wright’s version of the story says Limpy Jack struck out alone on foot and passed out on the trail. “Pat Moran was making a trip with freight,” he wrote, “(and) picked him up and took him on top of the load to (Clayton’s) dugout.”
Jamestown historian August Leisch told it differently. He said that Clayton was riding in the back of a wagon, and the driver didn’t realize until he reached Clayton’s dugout that Jack had fallen out. Despite the frigid weather, the driver backtracked, found Clayton and took him home.
Maybe they’re both right. Either way, Clayton’s hands and feet were badly frozen. About 10 days later, Colonel Crofton, the Post Commander of Fort Totten, passed through on the stage route. Seeing Jack’s condition, he ordered Clayton to be taken to the fort for treatment.
Leisch writes, “The hospital attendants cut his rags off, carried them to the stove on hot pokers and burned the outfit, bugs and all.”
Henry Hale, a Ft. Totten Army Steward, later wrote to Dr. Grassick in Grand Forks, saying, “Jack entertained us for quite a while, we finally amputated part of one hand and the toes of one foot, we first tried to put him under (with) ether but it was only a good jag for Jack, during the process I remember him saying ‘this is the second time the vigilantes have been after me.’”
The medical record states that Jack made it more than four months before the surgery was attempted. “May 6th, Endevoured (sic) to amputate Clayton’s foot,” Davis wrote, “but after using 15 oz. of Ether found it impossible to bring him under the influence, for just as he became insensible he stopped breathing and the anaesthetic had to be removed.”
They tried it again on May 11. “2nd attempt at Clayton’s foot, and though he went under Ether very well, he did not reach the amputating stage tho’ 25 oz. of Ether were used.” One week later, Col. Davis was finally successful. “With the assistance of A.A. Surg. Ruger, USA, I removed Jack Clayton’s toes today. Anaesthetic use – Chloroform. Reaction perfect.”
“Dakota Datebook” is a radio series from Prairie Public in partnership with the State Historical Society of North Dakota and with funding from the North Dakota Humanities Council. See all the Dakota Datebooks at prairiepublic.org.