It was 1895 in the Yukon peninsula, and the Alaskan Gold Rush was established. Thousands of men from all along the west coast of the United States and the Canadian provinces set out to make their fortunes in the riches that saturated the earth of northern Alaska. Just getting to the Klondike was arduous, and a man had to bring with him enough goods to last the year, usually a ton or more. Edmonton, Alberta, Canada was far from the gold fields, but was the “Gateway to the North” for the prospectors.
Edmonton is where we find our Kate, who emigrated from Walsall, Staffordshire, England, to help in the large and prosperous dry goods store owned by her brother. H. S. Eades, a renowned photographer, took this picture just before she left England.
Kate was a spinster, with little hope of finding a husband in England, and while Canada didn’t offer much more promise, she had nothing better to do, so she made the long journey. Working for her brother in the store, as well as keeping house for him, left Kate little time or energy for socializing. But when the local church hosted a farewell dance for the would-be miners, Kate and her brother loaded up a barrel of cider and joined the festivities.
Waiting patiently for his ration of apple brew, a middle-aged man named Horace Templeton saw what no man had ever seen before. His eyes and Kate’s met, and in an instant, he recognized her for the modest, clever, honest, sweet woman she was. He saw past her stout figure, her age, her working hands, her apparent unworthiness as a mate. Horace loved the sweet cadence of her Staffordshire accent, her lovely blue eyes, the graceful efficiency of her movements. Horace was smitten. And Horace was not a timid man.
When the party began to break up, Kate was startled when Horace introduced himself, and asked for the privilege of walking her home. She had felt his eyes upon her, and wondered at his direct, kind gaze. Kate’s brother, though protective, had recognized the look in Horace’s eye, so he gave her a nod, and said, “I’ll wait at home for you, sister.”
“I want to know everything about you, Kate,” said Horace. And, meeting his eyes with her clear and humble grace, Kate saw, too, that this chance meeting was to have great portent. Their walk home was as slow and purposeful as any walk ever was. Dreams were revealed, hearts opened, plans made. Horace would go on and make his prospecting run in two days’ time, but gave Kate his promise of returning for her in a year, two at the most.
During their tearful goodbyes, Kate slipped the photograph into Horace’s coat pocket, and he left for the Yukon a happy man. And Kate began waiting, as only a woman can wait.
Written by Leslie Modena, Mangopunch’s Blog
To me it looks like she’s saying “Hurry up and take the dang photo. I’m about to bust out of this corset!”