“Hearts West: True Stories of Mail-Order Brides on the Frontier,” by Chris Enss (Globe Pequot Press, 128 pages, $10.95)
In 1865, some 100 Maryland women, intrigued by leaflets promising them husbands, boarded a ship bound for Oregon. They were spinsters, domestics and adventurers, and they set sail with hopes of improving their situation.
The women’s excitement was dashed when they went below deck and discovered their living quarters had last been used by mules. They were appalled at the unsanitary conditions, the poor food and the crude language of the crew. The “brides,” as they were called, scoured the ship, took over the cooking and insisted the sailors attend Sabbath services and give up drinking.
In April, the ship reached Oregon, where the brides were met by 150 potential bridegrooms. All but seven of the women married, writes Chris Enss in “Hearts West.”
With few career opportunities, 19th-century women were expected to marry. Their expectations weren’t high. They hoped for men who were good providers and kind companions. Love was optional. When they failed to find husbands at home, some explored the idea of becoming mail-order brides.
Many advertised. “Boys, I am a lonesome little girl, alone in the world and earning my own living and am tired of doing so,” wrote one, who listed her personal attributes, then concluded, “no Catholics need to write.” Another advertised, “Boys, you’ll enjoy receiving my letters, for I’m a jolly girl … Will write for fun or matrimony. Catholic preferred.”
Men also advertised. “A bachelor of 40, good appearance and substantial means, wants a wife. She must be under 30, amiable and musical.”
Some of these mail-order brides entered into long and happy marriages, but that was not always the case. As she recited her vows, one woman glanced at her future husband’s hand and recognized a scar. The man had robbed her stagecoach days earlier.
A woman who traveled from Ireland to Oregon to marry an Army man, was rejected by the soldier. He had gone off on an assignment and discovered upon his return that while he was away, his future wife had danced with other soldiers who were celebrating a birthday.
“Hearts West” is a light-hearted account of mail-order brides. The author enlivens the history with pictures of the women and reproductions of some of the ads. Unfortunately, she fictionalizes the narrative in spots. Taking such liberties isn’t necessary and clouds the accuracy of the book.
“Colorado Rascals, Scoundrels, and No Goods of Breckenridge, Frisco, Dillon, Keystone, and Silverthorne,” by Mary Ellen Gilliland (Alpenrose Press, $19.95)
Not all mail-order brides were dupes. Mary Ellen Gilliland tells of an old codger in Summit County who wrote a glowing ad describing himself. His future bride and her two grown daughters arrived in Frisco ahead of the groom, checked out the man’s reputation and found him to be a ne’er-do-well. When he came courting, the bride chased him away with a club, while her daughters hit him with brooms.
Such unsavory characters are the stuff of Colorado legend, as Gilliland writes in this amusing book about robbers, prostitutes, libertines and others.
C.A. Finding, a Breckenridge merchant was sued by a husband who was outraged to discover his wife had had a year-long fling with Finding. It was one of numerous adulteries Finding engaged in, yet the old reprobate managed to celebrate his 50th wedding anniversary.
Some of the scoundrels were upstanding citizens. Breckenridge residents stole county records from nearby Parkville in an attempt to claim the county seat. They hid the records in the Silverthorn Hotel, operated by Agnes Silverthorn, the wife of a judge. When she caught the county clerk stuffing the records into a sack to be returned to Parkville, Agnes hid the sack and saved the county seat for Breck.
Sandra Dalls is a Denver novelist who writes a monthly column on new regional nonfiction.
