Milinda May Bryant ~ Mollie May

Found at Colorado Central Magazine / November 2014

Mollie May - Early Sweetheart of Leadville
by Jan MacKell Collins

It is no secret that prostitutes were some of the most mobile pioneers of the West. The law, family members and lust for money enticed thousands of women to traipse from state to state, town to town, camp to camp. One of the most prominent, well-traveled prostitutes in the West was Mollie May. Born Milinda May Bryant to German and Irish immigrants in about 1850, Mollie was said to have lost her virginity to a “lustful suitor.” By the 1870s, she was working as a prostitute and performer at Jim McDaniels’ Theater in Cheyenne, Wyoming. In 1876, she and McDaniels moved to Deadwood, South Dakota.

The Black Hills Gold Rush and Deadwood were just beginning. In the “Badlands District,” Deadwood’s euphemism for its red-light district, one of Mollie’s admirers was Jim May, a local Black Hills freighter whose brother was the notorious bounty hunter Boone May. Boone and Jim once had an altercation over Mollie at the Gem Theater near the “Badlands.” One brother shot at the other, missed, and hit Mollie instead. Thankfully the bullet hit a steel rib in Mollie’s corset, saving her life.

In her book, Old Deadwood Days, Estelline Bennett describes a similar account of a shoot-out between prostitute Lou Desmond and an unidentified woman. As in Mollie’s story, a bullet struck one of the girls but deflected off her corset. Whether these two events really happened or became a part of one another in the telling is unknown.

State Street, Leadville

[Pictured Right] Leadville’s expansive red-light district included State Street, pictured here around the time Mollie May was in town. Photo courtesy Jan MacKell Collins. 

It is known for sure that during another skirmish, part of Mollie’s ear was bitten off by another Gem Theater prostitute, Fannie Garretson. The dispute was over “Banjo” Dick Brown, who married Fannie in November 1876. The ear-biting incident apparently happened while Mollie, Fannie and Dick were jaunting along in a closed carriage.

Perhaps the fight with Fannie Garretson made Mollie decide to move to Colorado. Upon her arrival, she almost immediately gained a bad reputation in Silver Cliff and Bonanza for running around with an outlaw named Bill Tripp. She also spent some time in Pueblo, where she became known as the girl of gambler Sam Mickey. Sometimes Mollie went by the name "Jennie Mickey."

By 1878, Mollie was in the new boomtown of Leadville. Mollie staked her claim at 555 5th Street in a section of the expansive red-light district. With her was her old friend, Jim McDaniels, who shipped an amazing 40,000 pounds of theater scenery to Leadville and opened a new place called McDaniels’ New Theater.

Mollie did well in Leadville. In 1880 she employed ten girls and two men at her brothel. She also had the only telephone in town. One night, longtime Leadville resident Lewis Lamb “committed suicide” in front of a neighboring bordello. The only witness was a bully Lamb had known from childhood, former marshal Martin Duggan, who had just attempted to run over Lewis with a sleigh he was delivering. It was widely suspected that Lewis had not committed suicide at all, but was actually shot to death by Duggan.

Mindy Lamb, Lewis’ wife, swore revenge on Duggan, promising him: “I shall wear black and mourn this killing until the very day of your death and then, Goddam you, I will dance upon your grave.” The quote was widely circulated, and a few days later Mollie May stopped Mindy on the street. “You don’t know me,” she told Mindy, “but I wanted to tell you that what happened to a decent man like your husband was a dirty rotten shame and I’m really sorry for you.” The women remained friends, often chatting right in front of Mollie’s place.

Also in 1880, Mollie’s old enemy Fannie Brown surfaced. After traveling with Dick Brown during 1878, the couple separated and Fannie – like many other “Black Hillers” seeking greener pastures –wound up in Leadville. In 1879 she performed at McDaniels’ New Theater, an event that reached the newspapers at Deadwood. Perhaps fearing Mollie, Fannie left Leadville shortly after her performance. Mollie also made the papers again when a raid netted seventeen prostitutes on the row and two young men jumped from her second-story window to avoid arrest.

Mollie also had altercations with other prostitutes, including her neighbor, Sallie Purple. The Leadville Democrat reported that the women got into an argument. Insults were exchanged between their brothels, then gunfire. The battle ended two hours later with no injuries. “Both parties are resting on their arms,” chortled the Democrat, “and awaiting daybreak to resume hostilities.”

They say Mollie sold her house in about 1881 to the city, which used it for a city hall. Mollie’s new brothel was among the finest houses in town, and silver millionaire Horace Tabor was rumored to be a silent partner. Mollie continued dealing with the everyday issues of her profession. In 1882, she charged Annie Layton with stealing a dress. The argument escalated in court when Annie accused Mollie of running a house of ill fame, and Mollie retaliated by revealing that Annie was employed as a prostitute. Ultimately, all charges were dropped.

Next, Mollie became the subject of yet another scandal when news circulated that she was buying a nine-month-old baby named Ella from a couple known as Mr. and Mrs. Moore. The madam stayed silent until a local newspaper voiced concerns about her intentions. In May, Mollie contacted the Leadville Herald and gave an exclusive interview, explaining that the child belonged to a decent woman who was too poor to care for her. Mollie was caring for the baby until the mother could contact relatives for assistance. She ended the interview by angrily reminding the general public of all the charities she donated to on a regular basis.

Despite Mollie’s claim, Ella’s mother never reclaimed her child and Mollie adopted her. She was called Ella Moore, even though Mollie said the Moores were not the child’s parents. As soon as she reached school age, Ella was sent off to St. Scholastica’s Institute in Highland, Illinois. Her guardian was listed as one Robert Buck.

Mollie May died April 11, 1887 from what the Leadville Weekly Chronicle called “neuralgia of the heart.” Her funeral was one of the largest processions in Leadville, and even Mindy Lamb insisted on attending. The services took place in Mollie’s brothel before a $3,000 hearse and eight carriages accompanied Mollie to Leadville’s Evergreen Cemetery. Her obituary, which circulated as far away as Pueblo, stated, “She was a woman who, with all her bad qualities, was much given to charity and was always willing to help the poor and unfortunate.”

Mollie’s estate was valued at $25,000, with $8,000 in diamonds. Her personal property sold for $1,500, and her house was purchased by one Anna Ferguson for $3,600. The papers speculated the money would go to six-year-old Ella Moore, but little else is known about the child. In 1901, the Leadville Herald published an article about 20-year-old Lillian Moore, adopted daughter of Mollie May, who attempted suicide in Leadville. Doctors saved her life and she was last seen on a train headed to Denver where, like so many others, she disappeared without a trace.

Jan MacKell Collins is an author and historian who writes about the West. She currently lives in Arizona and is working on a new book about prostitution history in Prescott.

Laura Evans

Learn the Inside Story of Laura Evans, Local Madam

Arlene Shovald / The Mountain Mail / June 24, 2015

One of the region’s most famous madams, Laura Evans, died April 4, 1953, but her legend lives on today. People have always been fascinated with what were sometimes called “women of the dark side” or “soiled doves,” among other things. Whether it was disapproval, condemnation or curiosity, the lives of women like Evans have attracted attention from the beginning of time as more “proper” folks ask themselves why one would choose such a lifestyle. But prostitution has been around so long it is called the world’s oldest profession.

Evans was born May 31, 1871, in St. Louis, Missouri. As often happens over time, there is some discrepancy as to her birth date and the spelling of her name. On her tombstone in Fairview Cemetery, the date is 1874 and the name is spelled Evens. No one knows why. In almost every existing document, including her death certificate, the name is spelled Evans.

Author and historian June Shaputis surmises the spelling was an error on the part of the funeral director. Possibly it may have been the engraver’s error, since the Stewart Mortuary, which conducted her services, spelled the name Evans (with an “a”) on the death certificate and in all of the information related to her burial, right down to the gray dress she wore for her interment.

She became a prostitute in the 1890s, allegedly deserting husband and daughter and changing her name. Prior to taking up residence on Front Street (now West Sackett Avenue) in Salida around 1896, she worked in St. Louis, Denver and Leadville.

She loved practical jokes, swore a lot, rolled her own cigarettes, liked expensive clothes and surroundings, collected dolls and was quite outspoken, all of which (except the doll collection) were frowned on for a woman in her time. But Evans didn’t care. She wasn’t particularly beautiful, but she was attractive in her younger years with a slim figure and long dark hair, often pulled up in a bun or tied back at the nape of her neck.

Her house of ill repute, in early documents, is often referred to as a “boarding house for women.”

Young women went into prostitution for a number of reasons. Some were victims of white slave rings. Often a girl would answer an ad looking for household help or some other respectable occupation, spend everything she had to relocate and take the job, only to discover it was not as advertised and there was no way to escape.

One house of prostitution in Florence, Wisconsin, for example, advertised for maids, and once a woman accepted the job, she was kept in a house guarded by vicious trained German shepherds and could not leave. Often these young women had no family support or resources to get out of their situation.

Other young women hated poverty and were willing to do anything to get out of it, and prostitution seemed to be a lucrative venture.

Prostitution was and still is a thriving profession, but it was particularly so in Victorian times when sex was unspeakable in proper society and birth control was very limited and often didn’t work.

Consequently sexual relations, for “decent women,” were always tinged with the fear of pregnancy, whether it be a single woman (who would be scorned as an unwed mother) or a married woman who feared an unwanted pregnancy.

However, the life of a prostitute was never easy. By night they were hired lovers, but by day they were not acknowledged by the men they slept with.

Evans moved from Leadville to Salida in about 1896. Legend says she lost favor in Leadville after she smuggled the payroll to miners who were still working during a strike. She carried the $27,000 under her skirt and rode sidesaddle into the mines, allegedly to provide her services to a “friend” who could not come to town. The delivery of the payroll broke the strike, but the miners who were on strike were angry with her for helping the mine owners, and her popularity in Leadville took a dive.

Moving to Salida provided the opportunity to leave the “line” of working girls and open her own house on Front Street. As a madam, her business thrived. She is said to have had the prettiest girls working for her and was respected, at least in one way, for her business success. Six years after moving to Salida she expanded and opened a row of “cribs” across the street.

She was said to be “tough as nails” in many ways but have a “heart of butter” in others. Many stories tell of benevolent acts such as providing milk, coal or groceries for families when the father was out of work or injured, or of paying for a young person’s college education.

During the flu pandemic of 1918, Evans sent her girls out into homes in the community to care for the sick, even providing them with nurses’ uniforms so the folks on the receiving end of their care would not know who they were.

One minister who was among the most adamant about closing down the red light district was stunned when he learned the “nurse” who had taken care of his wife was one of Evans’ girls and that girl went back to the “parlor” when the epidemic was over. The minister then dropped his crusade to close the houses.

Evans’ daughter, however, was not as inclined to forgive. In 1940 she distributed a “defamatory circular,” which brought federal G-men to Salida to investigate. The circular made charges against a local bank official, a lawyer, an undertaker and a widowed hotel employee, stating that an estate had been mishandled.

Evans’ daughter, Lucille, later identified herself as the author of the circular, saying she wanted the people named in it to be smeared because she was angry that she was not accepted in Salida social circles. In her letter she expressed contempt for her mother and the fact that she was a neglected child. “Even a rattlesnake will take care of its young,” she said.

Evans’ life was a composite of “the good, the bad and the ugly.” She was fascinating to many, scorned by others, respected by some and, through it all, fiercely independent, outspoken and often shocking.