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The Enterprising Women of the Gold Rush Days
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Thirty five years old. Not hard on the eyes. I kin cook a
stew thick enough to fill the innards of the hongriest man
what ever rocked an' panned fer gold. I kin sew the holes
in yer socks an' buttons on yer shirt, an' I kin keep yer
warm in bed. I kin read an' write...an' I kin play piano
if'n ya gots one. In return, I want nothin' more'n my due.
Half the gold ya pan outa the river, an' what ya give me is
mine and what ya keeps is yourn. An' you don't never touch
my gold, no matter what you do with yourn. An' fer this in
return, I'm yer wife fer as long as you keep to your end a
the bargain.
Easily an ad that could have appeared in the personal
columns of the daily newspapers of the gold rush days.
What? You thought personals were only a sign of our times.
Heh heh. Nay nay my good friends. Them ads..they were a
boomin' in Cal-i-for-ny-a as far back as the mid 1800's.
Gold drew the men, and gold drew the women, much as it does
today. Sure, there were plenty of prostitutes around
then. But a hooker was temporary, and a wife, well, she was
around quite a bit longer. And she was yours. Forever. If you
could afford her. Ah, the good old days...not far removed
from the good modern ones, were they?
For the women, it was a sellers market. She'd place an ad
in the local papers, list the chores she was willing to do,
mention the age range of the husband she was looking for,
and list how much gold she expected to be given before she
married. It was the pre-nup agreement of the placer mines
of North America. And if a husband died earlier than expected,
aw heck, there were a slew of men behind him ready to take
his place. It was not uncommon for some women to marry the
chief mourner at her dead husband's funeral the very next
day. Time, then as now, waited for no one.
And then there were the entrepreneurial ones. Ladies like
Luzena Stanley Wilson. For her and those like her, the
wild climate of the gold mines of the west created an
atmosphere too heady for words. The year was 1849. Luzena had
been traveling for a month with her husband and children
before finally arriving in Nevada City, California, in the
dead of summer. She brushed off her clothes, wiped the
children's faces, and looked around. There was plenty of money
to be made here, other than panning for gold. Her husband
quickly built a crude shelter for them while she hammered
stakes for the legs of a table into the ground. The very
next day she had 20 men paying one dollar each for dinner.
Ahhh...the pastoral scenes of an outdoor cafe. Only thing
was, before you knew it, she had walls built around that
ol' table, and put a roof above it, and another level even,
with rooms and beds, and called the whole thing the hotel
El Dorado. She was now serving 75 to 200 boarders a week.
She stashed the money she made under the floorboards of her bedroom.
For while, the money was just laying there, doing nothing.
We're talking $200,000 my friends. And we're talking back
in them thar days. And it t'weren't hay, lemme tell you that
too. So Luzena began to lend the money out to the miners.
Ten percent interest per month. She was on the way to becoming
one of the wealthiest women...nay...make that families, in
America. Unfortunately, she didn't have fire insurance. And
a fire burned Nevada City down, leaving her, and 8000 other
miners, penniless. I know I know. It's a sad ending to a
wondrous tale. However, on the plus side, you now all know
it didn't start with Gloria Steinem...or the suffragettes...it
started with Gold! Looove that metal....