'ELEANOR WEBBER' She Wanted A Husband. He Wanted Gold! --------------------------------------------------------------------- Gold was still being discovered and mined in California as late as the 1870s but its abundance and easy recovery were waning. Nevertheless, thousands of hopeful people were still braving the hazardous elements and coming west. Eleanor Webber arrived in 1873. A rather plain-appearing girl of proud parentage with a determined streak in her young mind, she also sought her fortune. But unlike the others, she did not come for gold. She had only one burning reason, and that was to get married. Arrangements had been made in the East, and while Eleanor had never seen her prospective spouse, friends who had known the tall and handsome man assured her she was making the right choice. Several letters of courtship passed through the mail between the prospective bride and bridegroom, and in the early spring, Eleanor Webber set out for California with a beautiful trousseau of silk and satin. She was confident of her future. Love would triumph over all. Taking the recently completed railroad across the great western frontier, Eleanor, tired but happy, alighted at the town of Colfax. From there she would board a large Concord stagecoach for the short journey to Grass Valley and her matrimonial union. The July afternoon was warm, the sky a cornflower blue, and the foothills tinged with summer green. Eleanor's heart was pounding excitedly. How long she had waited for this moment -- to be a married woman. The least attractive of the Webber children, Eleanor tried extra hard at being friendly and charming. She loved to clean house, crochet, and read. In the spring months she was the first to gather wildflowers in the woods, bringing home armfuls to grace the china vases in the parlor. And she also had a natural talent for writing verse. Eleanor also had large brown eyes. When she was younger, several naughty neighbor boys had called her "owl eyes," but as she grew up and her face filled out, the eyes looked better. They had always sparkled with innocence never revealing the hurt she sometimes felt. After all, being plain had cost her having beaus, and that was what she had dreamed of all those years growing up. But now her luck had changed. The time to blossom had come. Eleanor was going to marry a handsome and adventurous prospector who, according to his letters, was doing quite well in the West as a mine superintendent. Her heart skipped once more as she approached the waiting coach, the last lap of her journey. "Welcome aboard, Miss." Wells Fargo agent William B. Story extended his hand to assist Eleanor. "Going to be a fine trip this afternoon. Not too long a ride." "Thank you," Eleanor replied politely. "I will be so pleased to finally reach my destination. It seems I have been traveling forever." Despite the arduous journey, the thought of her impending marriage made her prettier than ever, giving her a certain sparkle. "Yes, ma'am," Story said, smiling. He rubbed his hands down the sides of his jeans, aware that they were not very clean. After all, this was a real lady, and there were still not too many of them out here. "You staying in Grass Valley?" he asked. Eleanor lowered her eyelids, glancing at a spot on the toe of her tiny leather shoes. "I'm getting married," she said, her long skirts rustling. "Ah, a bride," he said. "I thought maybe so. Well, it's good news for some lucky man. Just what this country needs -- pretty wives." Eleanor continued to smile; then, noticing the size of the coach, she asked where she should sit. "Why, take the inside seat in the rear. It's cushioned and extra soft." Story winked. "Besides, it's the richest and most expensive." Eleanor frowned and shook her brown curls. "I'm sorry, I don't know what you mean." "Oh, just a joke, Miss. The seats are all comfortable. But that one happens to be covering the built-in iron strongbox, where we keep the gold. Today it contains almost $8,000. We've carried more, back aways. But this ain't so bad either." "Oh," Eleanor remarked, smoothing down her long skirts. "Then I shall sit upon it. Besides, I wouldn't want to get dusty by the window." "Well, have a good trip, and best of luck." "Thank you," Eleanor said properly. "So you've come out West to meet your new husband," a passenger said loudly. E. Black Ryan, an Irish attorney, was next to climb aboard the stage. Grinning and smelling of Irish whiskey, he stretched out his hand. "A lovely lass indeed to keep us company during this short but discomforting ride." Eleanor acknowledged the new passenger, and after several minutes, a total of eleven men got on. Some were miners returning to the fields, others were merchants. Bob Scott, the driver, appeared, pulling on leather gloves and adjusting his wide-brimmed hat. "Grass Valley it be," he shouted. To Be Continued . . . The stagecoach... ------------------------------------------------------------------- Copied by Nancee(McMurtrey)Seifert September 28, 2005 iggy29@rnetinc.net 'A Closed Mouth Gathers No Foot.'