Wicked Women

by Enss, Chris

“Don’t you have people anywhere?” the miner asked. Rosa dabbed the man’s head with a cloth and smiled. “I don’t know anymore,” she answered. “If I did have they’d be back in Pennsylvania.”

  Rosa’s parents were Irish—hard, strict people. Rosa had dreamed of the day she would be out of their puritanical household. She had left home in 1871, at the age of sixteen, and soon found there weren’t many opportunities for a poor, petite, uneducated girl with brown eyes and dark, curly hair. She ended up in New York, hungry, homeless, and eager to take any job offered. The job offered was prostitution, and five years later she went west with other women of her trade, hoping to make a fortune off the gold and silver miners.

  Prostitution was the single largest occupation for women in the West. Rosa hoped to secure a position at a posh brothel with crystal chandeliers, velvet curtains, and flowing champagne. The madams who ran such places were good to their girls. They paid them a regular salary; taught them about makeup, manners, and how to dress; and required them to entertain only a few men a night. If a high-class brothel wasn’t available, Rosa could take a job in a second-class house and work for a percentage of the profits, turning as many tricks as she could each night. If all failed, she could be a streetwalker or rent a “crib” at a boardinghouse—a tiny, windowless chamber with an oilcloth draped across the foot of the bed for customers in too big of a hurry to take off their boots.

  Rosa arrived in Virginia City, Nevada, in 1875 and went to work for a madam known as Cad Thompson. Cad was a widow who ran several parlor houses in town, including a three-story structure called “the Brick.” Cad and Rosa became fast friends, confiding in one another and talking about meeting their Prince Charming. “Whores dream of falling in love, too,” Cad frequently told Rosa.

  In 1878 Rosa met a man she hoped would be her prince. His name was Earnest Marks. He was twenty-two, tall, and well dressed, with a slight mustache. He told Rosa she was “handsomer in my eyes than anyone I know.” The two found in one another what they most desired—companionship and comfort.

  Erni tried hard but had difficulty finding steady employment. He did whatever jobs he could find: mining, bartending, bill collecting. Most women would not have seen Erni as Prince Charming; he was a heavy drinker and a regular at brothels all over the area.

  If Rosa had any thoughts that Erni would settle down with one woman, marry her, and save her from the life she led, Cad helped change her mind. Marriage didn’t automatically mean that you would be living with your spouse or retire from prostitution, Cad would remind her. Oftentimes men who married prostitutes expected them to keep working. Cad believed Erni would expect no less from Rosa.

  Rosa was not convinced. Erni always referred to her as his “little girl” and made her feel protected. She believed that if they were married, he would take care of her. But Erni Marks would never take Rosa May for his bride. The social stigma was too much for him to bear.

  Rosa tried not to think about that as she sat in the dim room with the dying miner. She removed a pad of paper and a stump of a pencil from her oversize handbag and laid them on her lap. She had written letters for other Bodie miners suffering from pneumonia and was ready to write one more for the prospector next to her.

  Rosa May, soiled dove with a heart of gold

  Courtesy of Bodie State Park, Bodie, California

  Rosa wrote letters constantly, most often to families in the East. She would write to tell them of their relatives who died. It wasn’t uncommon for a soiled dove to be murdered by a customer. Sometimes the women were so desperate to escape life at a brothel that they would kill themselves. Rosa felt an obligation to let their families know when their loved ones passed on. She believed they’d want to know what had happened, even if their loved ones were prostitutes.

  Letters played an important part in Rosa and Erni’s relationship; they exchanged many during the years they were together. Erni eventually left Virginia City and took a job in Gold Hill, a town some twenty miles away. Rosa and Erni wrote each other every three days. Rosa missed Erni terribly. He would travel to see her as often as time and money permitted, but in between visits she worried about his drinking and was jealous of his carousing. She knew he kept company with other prostitutes and madams.

  Erni had a tremendous sexual appetite and found it impossible to be monogamous. Many times Erni’s letters to Rosa were written to ease her worry about his alcoholism and assure her of his true feelings.

  February 2, 1879

  Dear Rosa,

  I was happy to get your letter today. I am being a good boy, love, and I shall continue to be. I am doing well, but am a little shaky. I suppose it is because I drink so little now, but I feel better for it and I look better too. No! Pet, I have not been with another. I have no interest in anyone but you.

  Love and kisses for my dearest Rosa.

  Erni

  But Erni was not faithful to Rosa. He had many lovers. Even if that hadn’t been the case, he likely would have never publicly acknowledged his love for her. To admit being in love with a prostitute was scandalous, and Erni was afraid that neither he nor his family could endure the humiliation. Besides, his inability to hold down a job for any extended period of time had already left him with a poor self-image. He denied rumors that he and Rosa were a couple. When word of his denial would get back to Rosa, he would rush off another letter to reassure her of his love.

  January 7, 1879

  Dear Rosa,

  You sweet, dear baby. I got your letter just fine. How could you believe that I might be moved by what others say about you and I. There’s nothing to it. I don’t let them bother me at all. You are my love.

  Forever,

  Erni

  Rosa moved back and forth between parlor houses in Virginia City and Carson City, Nevada, following the gold and silver strikes. When the precious metals were played out in both towns, fewer and fewer men visited Rosa, and those who did wouldn’t pay.

  Erni moved to Bodie, California, to work for his brother in the wholesale liquor business. He curtailed his visits to Rosa, who wrote him about how much selling liquor troubled her. She didn’t think his struggle with alcohol could get better working in that profession. Rosa broke off their relationship and vowed never to write another word to him, but Erni’s letter in response changed her mind.

  April 17, 1879

  My Darling Rosa,

  Your letter sounds as though you feel hurt . . . I am sorry to see you feeling as you do . . . I am sorry I was not on the train to meet you, but I hope you will think no harm in it and not feel hard toward your baby for I meant not to fool you and would not willingly disappoint my pet for any consideration. Why do you say goodbye? For today there is no hard task, no burden that I would not bear with grace, no sacrifice I could name or ask that were granted could I see your sweet face. Oh, Rosa how can you think for a moment that goodbye?

  Always,

  Erni

  Rosa and Erni reconciled, and the letters began to flow freely between the two lovers once again. Erni shared his feelings of insecurity with Rosa, and she shared her feeling of loneliness with him. They encouraged each other and held each other accountable for their misdeeds. Rosa chastised Erni for his drinking, and he would always apologize and promise to do better.

  They also shared stories about their illnesses. Rosa suffered from chills and fever, a condition that originated when she lived in the cold, flimsy parlor houses in the East. Erni had gout and a venereal disease.

  In 1891 Rosa moved to Bodie. Remote as it was, Bodie was still a booming gold town, and she thought business would be better there and she’d be close to Erni. She moved into a white house in the red-light district. She kept a neat brothel and listed her occupation with the census as “seamstress.”

  Erni was happy Rosa had moved to town. Under cover of darkness he would make his way back and forth from Rosa’s h
ome to the saloon where he worked. In the light of day Erni insisted his relationship with Rosa was strictly professional.

  Rosa eventually became sick caring for pneumonia-stricken miners. She died in 1911 at the age of fifty-seven. Erni couldn’t afford the monument he had promised Rosa he would put on her grave, and no one took up a collection to remember the gentle kindness of Rosa May. She was buried in the outcast cemetery with a simple wooden cross marking the spot.

  Erni lived out the rest of his days working in his bar. In 1919 Prohibition drove him out of the saloon and wholesale-liquor business. His brother supported him until his death in 1928.

  Laura Bell McDaniel

  Courtesan of Colorado City

  “The West is overrun with bawdy houses and soiled doves.”

  Gold miner Charles Bartlett in a letter home to his family in Virginia, 1872

  Madam Laura Bell McDaniel’s broken body lay in a ditch beside a snowy thoroughfare conjoined with the twisted rubble of what was once her pristine Mitchell sedan. It was late January 1918 when the notorious soiled dove’s car crashed just outside Castle Rock, Colorado. Laura’s twenty-seven-year-old niece, Laura Pierson, had been driving the vehicle; she was thrown from the sedan when it overturned. A blind family friend, Dusty McCarty, was in the car with the women. He survived the accident but sustained several bruises and cuts.

  By the time Laura Bell McDaniel was transferred to Memorial Hospital in Colorado Springs, news of the plight of the woman known as “the Queen of the Colorado City Tenderloin” had already reached clients and citizens where she lived and worked. Many were saddened by the news, and some believed Laura’s car might have been forced off the road by those who wanted her house of ill repute shut down.

  Laura was born near Buffalo Lick, Missouri, on November 27, 1861. Her parents, James and Anna Horton, were farmers who made sure their children were well educated. At the age of nineteen Laura married Samuel Dale from nearby Brunswick, Missouri. The two had become acquainted when Laura’s father took the family buckboard to Samuel’s father, a wagon maker, to be repaired. The couple left the Midwest shortly after they were married, traveled to Colorado, and settled in a newly established railroad town called Salida. Sam and Laura welcomed a baby girl into their lives in 1884 and named her Eva Pearl Dale. Marriage and fatherhood did not sit well with Samuel, and he left a few months after his daughter was born.

  Faced with the challenge of raising a child on her own and with no viable employment opportunities, Laura ventured into the business of prostitution. She purchased a home close to the house where her mother lived. Her mother, Anna, had relocated to Colorado when Laura and James began having marital problems. Anna opened a boardinghouse, which she ran with Laura’s two younger sisters.

  One of Laura’s regular callers was John Thomas “Tom” McDaniel. The two spent a considerable amount of time together and traveled to Leadville on occasion in the winter. It was during one of those trips that Laura’s home caught fire and burned to the ground. Foul play was immediately suspected, and one of Anna’s boarders was accused of setting the blaze. Morgan Dunn was considered to be a man of questionable character by most Salida residents, and he was quite enamored with Laura. He was extremely jealous of the relationship she had with Tom.

  Laura had insurance to cover the home in case of a fire. While waiting for the insurance check to arrive, she moved to a house near the red-light district of town. She and Tom continued to see a lot of one another and eventually became engaged. They were married on April 7, 1887. Less than a week later, the duo were involved in a scandal that threatened to end their lives together.

  On April 13, 1887, the day before the newlyweds were scheduled to go on their honeymoon, Laura confided in Tom that Morgan had tried to kiss her. Tom was furious to hear that someone had tried to take advantage of his wife. “Why didn’t you kill the son of a bitch?” he shouted at Laura. Tom decided to confront Morgan about his actions, and Laura was unable to reason with him. The pair arrived at Anna’s home and charged inside, Tom ready to fight the forward boarder and Laura trying to intercede. Morgan, who was eating dinner when Tom approached him, was initially nonplussed about the incident. When Tom continued to press him on the issue, he became belligerent. A yelling match ensued, and before it became physical, Laura managed to talk her husband into leaving and going home.

  Tom didn’t stay home, however. He returned to have it out with Morgan. The two got into another battle of words, and Morgan suggested they settle their differences in another way. When Morgan placed his hand on his hip pocket, Tom pulled out a gun and shot him five times. Morgan collapsed at Tom’s feet, dead.

  The sound of the gun firing drew the attention of the next-door n

  Gambling parlors like this re-created version at the Colorado History Museum in Denver lured Old West travelers inside with tasteful decor; an array of alcohol; a clean, unmarked deck of cards; and a stunning woman to blow on the dice for good luck.

  The Denver Public Library, Western History Collection, X-757

  eighbors, and they hurried to the scene. According to the May 20, 1887, edition of the Salida Semi-Weekly Mail, they found Tom standing inside the front door. His wife and mother-in-law were holding on to him and crying, “Oh, Tom!” The neighbors told police that Anna screamed, “Why did you do that?” Tom was arrested and tried for his actions, but the court found him not guilty. He claimed that he had acted in self-defense.

  The residents in and around Salida doubted not only Tom’s version of the story but also the motive Laura offered for why he went to see Morgan. Not everyone believed he was driven by jealousy alone. It was suspected that Tom killed Morgan to keep him from ever talking about setting fire to Laura’s home. Citizens were convinced Tom and Laura hired Morgan to burn the home in exchange for a sizable insurance check. The Salida Semi-Weekly Mail reported that Morgan was unarmed the night he was shot. The article also noted that he had been recovering from a broken arm and collarbone, injuries he had sustained in a bar fight.

  When Morgan’s wife, who was living in New York at the time of his demise, eventually learned about her husband’s death, she wrote the judge that presided over Tom’s case to ask him specifics about the killing. She learned that Morgan had run afoul of the law on occasion and had been laid to rest in a pauper’s grave without a service or friend to see him off.

  Tired of the idle gossip that surrounded the case, Laura and Tom decided to give an interview to the editor of the Salida Semi-Weekly Mail and correct the issues that were being talked about. Far from clearing up matters, the interview prompted more questions. The McDaniels told the paper that Morgan had removed his coat and placed it on the bed prior to the shooting. Actually, police found the victim in his coat. As for Morgan placing his hand on his hip pocket, Laura’s mother claimed that never happened. The McDaniels told the newspaper editor that Anna was wrong.

  Not long after the trial, Tom and Laura left Salida and somewhere along the way parted company. By 1888 Laura was living in Colorado City alone. She purchased a home to use for business and began referring to herself as Mrs. Bell McDaniel.

  Laura’s brothel was one of the most spectacular in town. It featured a ballroom, chandeliers, and expensive furniture. She had servants, a bartender, and a cook. Laura entertained powerful, well-known, and wealthy individuals.

  Laura and many of the other soiled doves in Colorado City conducted themselves in public with restraint, moderation, and dignity. When the women took walks and shopped, they confined themselves to the red-light district. There was no solicitation, and they were polite to everyone they met. Laura was known for being generous with her earnings. She frequently gave money to the homeless and helped them find a place to live; she also gave to charities that provided food and clothing to the needy.

  Anna Horton was never too far from her daughter. She moved from Salida to Colorado City in 1890, and mother a
nd daughter visited often with one another. Laura sent her daughter, Eva Pearl, to a boarding school. She wanted her to have an education and to choose a different path in life than she had. It is not known if either Laura or Anna visited Eva while she was away or even where exactly Eva attended school.

  Many colorful characters paraded in and out of Laura’s life and business. John “Prairie Dog” O’Bryne, a hack driver and brakeman for the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe Railroad; notorious female gambler Minnie Smith; and mining and real estate magnate Charles Tutt were just a few.

  In June 1893 Laura filed for divorce from Tom. The marriage was officially dissolved four months later. By the turn of the century, Laura’s mother, Laura’s sister Birdie, Birdie’s husband, and their infant son were all living together in the same home down the street from Laura’s house. In 1901 Eva Pearl was also a resident in her grandmother’s home.

  Laura’s reign as “Queen of the Colorado City Tenderloin” did not falter in the early 1900s. Her business did, however, suffer from the usual problems associated with running a bordello: unruly patrons, rivalries with competing houses, and desperate employees who tried to kill themselves. There was also the occasional tussle with law enforcement. According to the April 30, 1903, edition of the Colorado Springs Weekly Gazette, Laura, along with eight other women, were arrested for prostitution, and an indictment was returned to a grand jury against her for running a house of ill repute. She gave a bond in the sum of $500.

  “Evidence before the grand jury is to the effect that the houses have been run under the protection of the authorities of Colorado City who have collected monthly fines from each house,” the Weekly Gazette article read. “The arrests were entirely unexpected; an unsuccessful attempt to escape was made. Other and sensational developments in regard to the morality of the county, it is rumored, will follow.”