Madame Pearl DeVere ~ Julie Lence

  

Pearl or one of her girls

Born in Evansville, Indiana October 1859, Eliza Martin was one of five children to John (a Civil War veteran) and Nancy Marshall. She moved to Denver, Colorado at age 15 and found work as a prostitute. During this time, Denver was experiencing a down time in ‘business’ and Eliza moved to El Paso County (south of Denver), where she met Albert Young. The two married but lived apart. Eliza gave birth to a daughter and it’s believed she gave the child up for adoption. Around this time, she dyed her hair red, dressed in fine clothing and jewelry, and adopted the namesakes, Isabelle Martin and Mrs. E. A. Martin.

 

Having made quite a bit of money working in Denver, Eliza moved to Cripple Creek, Colorado in 1893. Located on the back side of Pikes Peak, the town was booming from gold strikes. She changed her name to Pearl DeVere and went to work as a prostitute, buying a small house on the famed Myers Avenue and hiring only the prettiest girls to work for her, as she herself was considered a beauty. A smart businesswoman, Pearl insisted her girls practice good hygiene, dress smart, and have a medical exam every month.

 

The Old Homestead (today)

Pearl was also an avid rider and could often be found renting a horse at the livery to ride around town. Many of the ‘ladies’ favored the pastime, which was also deemed good business. Sitting in the saddle and decked out in their finery, they caught the attention of many men, especially Pearl. With a striking figure and known to never appear in public in the same gown, she caught the attention of wealthy mill owner, C. B. Flynn. They married in 1895, and a few months later, what is now known as the historic fire of 1896 swept through town, destroying most of the businesses, to include Flynn’s mill and Pearl’s house. To recover some of his losses, Flynn went to work as a smelter in Mexico. Pearl stayed in Cripple Creek, and with new buildings springing up fast, she borrowed funds from Orinda Straile of New York and built a new home for herself on Myers Avenue. Named ‘The Old Homestead’,  the two-story brick home with its electric lights, running water, two bathrooms, and intercom and telephone had everyone gossiping. Coal stoves placed in upstairs rooms kept the second floor warm and cozy during winter months; fireplaces heated the downstairs rooms. Rich clientele flocked to The Old Homestead to enjoy not only the women who worked there, but the finest liquor and the scrumptious meals Pearl served, and to attend the lavish parties she held, at a cost to them of $250 per night.    

Sadly, Pearl’s reign over her new establishment was short-lived. After an all-night party in June of 1897, she was having a difficult time unwinding and falling asleep. She asked one of her girls to bunk with her, and the following day, the girl found Pearl with her face in the pillow and her breathing heavy. A doctor was summoned, but there was nothing he could do to help Pearl; she overdosed on morphine and died that afternoon. Laid out in a rich ball gown, Pearl’s funeral was a grand affair, with mounted policemen escorting her body to Mt. Pisgah Cemetery. The service was quick, and afterward, the Elks Club band played, ‘They’ll Be A Hot Time in the Old Town Tonight’.

 

The Old Homestead continued under Hazel Vernon, from 1897 – 1916. Afterward, it became a boarding house and then a private residence, with owners discovering several original items they decided to share with the public. In June 1958, the house opened as a museum and remains as such today.  

 

Aspens, Donkeys and Llamas

New York in Autumn courtesy of www.nyfallfoliage.com

Having grown up in New York, Autumn was always a special time of year. The leaves changing colors brought a vibrant array of red, orange and gold to the landscape. Mom and Dad would load us kids into the car and we'd venture to nearby farms for apples and cider donuts. Sometimes, we'd journey north. Sometimes we'd travel east or south. No matter the direction, I always enjoyed the color of the leaves.

When the hubby and I lived in New Jersey, we'd often visit our families in New York. I remember one such time, on our way back to New Jersey, the hubby and I strayed from the main highway and drove along the back roads to look at the changing leaves and to stop for apples and donuts. The trip took longer, but we had a great time and started our own tradition of taking a drive on an autumn day to see the changing leaves.

The back side of Pikes Peak

Here we are many years later and living out west where the Aspens change from green to bright yellow, with some red and orange and brown leaves from other trees mixed in. One Saturday a few years back, the hubby and I loaded the kiddo into the car and took off for an afternoon drive through the Rocky Mountains. Driving up the pass, we went through Woodland Park and headed west to the road that winds along the back of Pikes Peak to Cripple Creek. For those who don't know, Cripple Creek is an old mining town from the 1800's. Some of the original saloons and buildings remain, most are casinos now, and there is still a working gold mine outside of town.

Cripple Creek, CO

The drive was quiet and relaxing. Some of the Aspen were in bloom, offering a myriad of colors. Most were still green, but no matter what time of year, the scenery is always gorgeous. We entered Cripple Creek and decided to drive through town and pick up the road on the other side. Just as we passed the last casino and began to approach the outskirts of town, my son spotted a donkey beneath some trees. Looking out my window, I found there was more than one donkey and figured a nearby rancher had brought the donkeys to town for a special occasion. But then, on the hubby's side of the street, there was an open lot with more donkeys. A lady was feeding them. We decided to stop along the curb and take a video of her feeding the donkeys.

Getting out of the car, the first few donkeys the kiddo and I had seen decided they were hungry and, one by one, they began crossing the street to get to the lady. Now, this was a sight to see--donkeys crossing the road and motorists stopping to give them the right of way. One donkey took an interest in a parked car's bumper and after sniffing it, scratched his ear along the tail light--too cute! (Glad it wasn't my car.) After the donkeys had their fill of hay, they followed their leader--a grey donkey--to the next street over and disappeared around the corner of a building.

The baby was adorable

While watching this scene, a gentleman walking his dog approached. One of the donkeys stopped and eyed the little dog, but did nothing and continued on his way. I learned from the gentleman that the donkeys are wild and live in Cripple Creek. The citizens of Cripple Creek help take care of them and feed them. The donkeys know the lady with the hay. She is there almost every day to feed them, and motorists have to yield to the donkeys. It is believed that these donkeys are descendants from the donkeys that were left behind when the gold rush came to an end and the miners went back down the mountain. It's the first time since coming here in '93 that the hubby and I have ever seen the donkeys, and it sure made our day. Sadly, I don’t have pics of the donkeys, but the llamas we saw that day were just as cute, as were the mountain goats along the side of the road.

The goats

Happy Autumn everyone!

The Sisters of Mercry at Cripple Creek, Colorado

Sisters of Mercy, Bennett Ave, Cripple Creek, circa 1899

Cripple Creek, Colorado is a small town nestled in the Rocky Mountains, west of Colorado Springs. The town originally had a population of about 500 people. The gold rush in the 1890’s led to the population booming to 10,000 and later to 50,000. Saloons, brothels, shops and hotels lined East Bennett Avenue, the main thoroughfare through town. Most structures were made of wood, and folks from various walks of life ventured there to either live or strike it rich. Once such group residing in Cripple Creek at that time was the Sisters of Mercy.

The Sisters of Mercy was founded in Dublin, Ireland, circa 1831, by Catherine McAuley. Catherine was born into a Catholic family. She was orphaned at age nineteen and went to live with relatives who had suffered financial loss and disapproved of her religious beliefs. She was forced to find employment and residence elsewhere and took a position as household manager for William and Catherine Callaghan, and as Mrs. Callaghan’s companion. McAuley spent the next two decades administering to the sick and the poor, especially women. When the Callaghans’ passed, she inherited their home. In 1827, she opened the first House of Mercy in Dublin. The House of Mercy provided religious, educational and social services to poor women and girls.

Through her work, and with the support of the Dublin clergy and two associates, Catherine established the Religious Institute of the Sisters of Mercy. Members were known as ‘walking nuns’ as they assisted the sick and the poor. When Catherine died in 1841, the organization had over 100 members, with 10 foundations in Ireland.

The Sisters of Mercy came to the United States in 1843, by invitation from the Bishop of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Within ten years, the organization expanded to New York, San Francisco and other parts of the country, establishing schools and hospitals. They arrived in Colorado in 1882 to establish a school and hospital in Durango. In 1889, the sisters were working in Denver and in 1894, Sister Mary Claver Coleman was sent to Cripple Creek to establish Cripple Creek’s first hospital, St. Nicholas Hospital.

Like many of the buildings in Cripple Creek, the sisters’ hospital was constructed of wood. A major fire erupted in Cripple Creek, circa 1896. It began on one side of the street and worked its way to the other side. Eventually, the fire was put out, but another major fire erupted four days later. With flames raging, men tossed sticks of dynamite into buildings in an effort to slow down the fire. The Sisters of Mercy scrambled to get their patients out of the hospital and to safety when one anti-Catholic man entered the hospital and tossed a stick of dynamite into the stove’s chimney, hoping to destroy the hospital. The dynamite exploded prematurely. He lost his leg, and the sisters evacuated and treated him, too. After he healed, he repented and thanked them for saving his life.

St. Nicholas Hospital, Cripple Creek, circa 1902

The original hospital survived the fire, but the Sisters saw a need for a modern, safer structure. They built a new hospital of brick, complete with electric lights, hot and cold running water and a surgery department. The first two floors of the new building were dedicated to patients. The sisters’ quarters were on the third floor and an orderly lived in the attic. The hospital received its first patient in 1898 and was named for and dedicated to Bishop Nicholas Matz. The Sisters eventually left Cripple Creek in 1924. The hospital was purchased and operated by local doctors. It eventually closed in 1972 and in 1995 was refurbished into the Hotel St. Nicholas.   

Today, Cripple Creek is host to several casinos and receives many tourists, local and from afar, daily.