Who gets remembered when the gold runs out, and who gets left to the margins of the ledger?
A wife left to keep the ledger when the goldfield swallowed her husband’s name — and the fortune nobody thought a woman could account for.
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A wet season on the diggings, told through the women who kept the camp fed, clothed and quietly running while the men chased colour in the mud.
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Six accounts, six goldfields, six fortunes too small for the history books — traced through ledgers the men who made them never thought worth keeping.
The correspondence a goldfields family sent home and never expected strangers to read, assembled into the story the letters were too careful to tell outright.