In 1945 when my grandmother applied for and received her American
citizenship, part of that process was to officially change her name from “Georgene Frances Theodora Littell Jeffreys”
to “Ina Jeffreys”. My grandmother’s first given name in the
string of three was Georgene, though that would soon be shortened to “Ina” [ee-nuh],
as she was known throughout her life. It
was simple to decipher the origins of Frances
and Theodora – those two middle names
were also the middle names of her mother Justina, and came from Justina’s
parents, Frances and Theodore Simón. But where did the name “Georgene” come from?
Georgene “Ina” Littell was born in 1888 in Oakland,
California and the story as told to me was that she was named for the Georgene
Silver and Gold Mine in Candelaria, Nevada.
That is only part of the story. In early
1887 her father, London-born mining engineer Walter Albert Littell, accepted
the position of superintendent for the British-financed Candelaria Water Works
and Milling Company in Mineral County, Nevada.
The funds for the mining venture were raised by Colonel W.J. Sutherland
in England under the name of the Doris Syndicate. Sutherland, a colorful character in the
mining district, served as manager of the Candelaria firm and became a devoted
friend of my great-grandfather, Walter Littell.
Walter Littell, 1887, San Francisco
Jessie Littell, with Ina, 1888
Candelaria, with its population of roughly 1,000 at the time,
was the main camp town in the prolific Columbus mining district. The new Candelaria firm, now capitalized with
British funds, had recently obtained the rights to much-needed water via a new
28-mile pipeline with its source being natural springs high in the White
Mountains.1 Not only was
water needed in the milling operation, but it also gave the townsfolk something
to drink other than whisky. Even with
the advent of running water that might be used to dilute the whisky, there
seemed to be no decline in the level of mayhem resulting from the more than
twenty saloons in town.
Just before embarking for the Great American West from his
London home, Walter Albert Littell married Justina Frances Theodora Simón. Walter and Jessie, as she was known, were married
in London February 27, 1887 at the Church of St. Simon, Hammersmith, and then married
again on April 10 shortly after arriving in New York City. Why the second marriage? Was there some legal necessity to hold a US
marriage license? After a cross-country
journey by train the young couple arrived in Oakland, California for their honeymoon.
A clue to the origin of my grandmother’s name comes from their Oakland
hostess, Miss Georgene Traver, who treated
the newlyweds in princely fashion. Not
only did the newlyweds receive a warm reception from their Oakland hostess, but
also from Walter’s new boss, Colonel W.J. Sutherland, the mine manager. On April 24 the colonel entertained the
Littells and several friends with a yachting and fishing party including lunch served
at sea. The next day a fine banquet was
given by Colonel Sutherland at Miss Traver’s mansion to honor Walter and
Jessie.
A
sketch of Col. Sutherland from The
Morning Call, San Francisco, 2 March, 1895
Regarding the attention they received at Miss Traver’s , the April 30,
1887 edition of the “Oakland Tribune” reported that decorations, floral
arrangements and table adornments “…made one of the most beautiful displays
ever seen in this city. The silver,
particularly, was noticeable as being of a pattern which has probably never
been seen on this coast before. It was
recently made in London of silver taken from the Georgene mine in Nevada (which
was named in compliment to Miss Traver) and presented by the company to that
lady. The design of this silver is
exquisite and is of the very latest English pattern, known as the Jubilee
pattern.”
So this brief mention provides the detail that the Georgene mine was
renamed in recognition of the Littell’s hostess and friend, Georgene
Traver. Georgene was one of the children
of Captain Traver who had been a mine owner in Candelaria. So was my grandmother Georgene Littell
actually named for the mine or rather, for the person?
Unfortunately, all honeymoons must come to an end. In May 1887 it was time for Grandpa and
Grannie Littell to make the journey out to the dry, high desert and settle into
the charming house built for the mine superintendent that overlooked the
settlement of Candelaria. Their friend Miss
Georgene went along on the train and spent a couple of weeks with them.
Mine Superintendent's House, Mr & Mrs Littell on porch, Candelaria
Later that summer Georgene Traver threw another party honoring the
Littells, this one taking place in the garden behind her Alice Street mansion
in Oakland on the Fourth of July. She
decorated the luncheon tent & yard with American and British flags for the
occasion.2
Miss Georgie Traver’s mother also lived in the house at 1206 Alice
Street in the heart of Oakland’s aristocratic quarter. It was rumored that Captain Traver’s widow,
Hannah, had not been of right mind since his murder. Within days after the July Fourth party, Mrs.
Hannah Traver slipped away from the house before the servants, her nurse or
anyone else was awake. It seems she
caught the train and went over to San Francisco. Mrs. Traver had been treated in various
asylums in northern California over the past few years. She apparently was a regular consumer of bromidia,
a happy-making tincture of alcohol with extracts of cannabis and morphine that in
the Victorian era was believed to calm the nerves. Sounds as if that mixture might do more than
just calm the nerves.
Candelaria was truly a wild west boom town, and as wild as
it is reported to have been, it may not have been as wild as its little sister
city or suburb known at the time as Pickhandle Gulch. Of all people, Georgene Traver knew how
dangerous life could be around Pickhandle and Candelaria. Her father, Captain P.L. Traver, a California
merchant with business enterprises in Oakland and Candelaria, served as a
County Commissioner until his murder in Candelaria in 1880. Captain Traver was owner of the Princess Mine
at the time of his murder. Col.
Sutherland bought the Princess Mine from the Traver Estate and promised the
Travers a share of profits; however, that endeavor ultimately resulted in a total
loss. Using some of the English capital from
the Doris Syndicate, Sutherland purchased a mine from a Mr. Rhodes and changed
the name of it to the Georgene Mine to honor Miss Traver.
Pickhandle Gulch
In January 1880 Traver was murdered on the main street in
Candelaria in by one Mike Owens.
According to Owens’ account of the incident from his cell in the county
jail, he first exchanged words with Capt. Traver and a Mr. McLain who walked
out of the boarding house together. It
was Owens’ claim that Traver owed him money, (perhaps for legitimate work in
the mine), and Owens referred to the other fellow, McLain, as “the bully and
boss head-masher of Candelaria.” Then words
escalated to shoving and pistol-whipping, and ultimately Owens’ pistol
discharged during the scuffle and a bullet went straight into Traver’s chest. Owens was captured, managed to escape, but
was caught again while hiding out in Tehachapi, California.3
While the murder of Captain Traver in broad daylight on the
main street caused great shock to his grieving widow, this act by no means stood
out among all of the other murder and mayhem in the remote hamlet. Gleanings from regional newspapers that
covered activities out in the mining district report the troubles.
Alice Davis, a courtesan, committed suicide at Candelaria
Tuesday afternoon by taking a dose of laudanum.
Indications are she had a quarrel with the man with whom she lived. She leaves behind two children.4
“Looks as Though he
was Not to Blame - The detailed account of the recent cutting of John B.
Sellers by G.R.A. Brown at Pickhandle Gulch . . . indicates that the injured
man was wholly to blame.”5
“A dispatch from Candelaria, dated the 4th
instant [1888], says: Last evening Thomas Donohoe was shot and killed by J.S.
Callison. Nothing has been learned of
the cause other than that the parties had a dispute about mining ground. The shooting was done in the main street,
which was crowded with people.”6
Callison was acquitted before the end of that summer.
Under the headline, “Burned to a Crisp, With a Bullet Hole
in the Temple” we learn that the Colgan house in Candelaria burned to the
ground and that Mr. Colgan was “…burned to a crisp. An examination of the skull revealed a bullet
hole over the temple.” His wife was in
San Francisco at the time. The local
authorities assume a suicide rather than foul play.7
And if the brawls, quarrels and shootings weren’t enough to
worry about, reports came from Pickhandle Gulch in February 1888 of several
cases of smallpox. Lucky for Grannie
Littell, she had already relocated to Oakland for her laying-in. In her words, she wasn’t going to let one of
those horse doctors around Candelaria deliver her baby. Little Georgene Littell was born in March and
almost certainly spent her early days at Miss Georgene Traver’s home.
It was not only stories of jealousy, murder and mayhem reported
out among the miners. The October
31, 1887 Reno Gazette-Journal announced, “Matters at Candelaria - The latest
news at hand is to the effect that a new strike of rich ore has just been made
in the Georgene mine. The development
occurred in the east drift on the tunnel level, and assays run on an average
$95 per ton. The mill of the Candelaria
company will start up on Friday, and a sufficiency of ore is now on hand to
keep the mill going for some months to come.”8
It is claimed that bullion valued at $15,000,000 has been
produced by the mines of Candelaria district… from 1876 to date [December
1888].9 While the new strike disclosed in late 1887 surely provided excitement and a sense of optimism for all involved at the time, the
area’s fortunes proved to be short-lived.
Regardless of what was being brought up through the shafts in
the earth, the
Littell family’s future was about to change course. On September 19, 1888 there was a horrible accident
in downtown San Francisco. Grandpa Littell
was in the History Building, a five-story office building on Market Street
owned by the H.H. Bancroft Company. A
large group -10 or 12 passengers - crowded onto the elevator on the fifth floor,
and almost immediately the cable snapped, the safety brake failed, and the
overloaded elevator car plummeted to the basement level. While some bodies were thrown through the cage
doors and onto the basement floor on impact, Mr. Littell was among those who were pinned inside. He and a few others were trapped under the
ceiling of the passenger elevator that had collapsed upon impact. To make a terrible situation worse, seconds
later the heavy cabling landed on the wreckage below and shattered what was
left of the ceiling. Among the injuries
were multiple lacerations and several shattered bones including Grandpa’s right
leg, and the likelihood that one of the passengers was not going to survive. 10
History Building, San Francisco, later destroyed in the 1906 fire
Grandpa Littell did survive and within a few months filed a lawsuit
for $100,000 in damages against H.H. Bancroft, the building’s owner. The fractured bones fused in the healing
process leaving Albert with a lifelong limp meaning that his career as the
manager overseeing the mines may have ended not long after it began.
Before long he and his young family were back overseas where
he was employed at times in various locations with Jessie’s family, the Simón’s
banking concern, the Anglo-Californian Bank.
He was able to accept another job as a mining engineer, this time behind
a desk, for the Rio Tinto Mining Company and he and his family lived in the
company’s beautiful regional headquarters, Casa Colon, in Huelva, Spain.
Had the Georgene Mine remained profitable longer or had the
elevator cable not snapped, would the Littell family have stayed in Nevada? Could Mrs. Littell be content living among the rowdy, rough and raucous characters on the streets of
Candelaria and Pickhandle Gulch?
1 Engineering News and American Contract Journal,
Vol. 15, New York, January –July 1886.
2 Oakland Tribune, 9 July, 1887
3 Daily Alta California, Vol. 32, No. 10880, 28
January 1880
4 Reno Gazette-Journal, 25 February, 1887
5 Reno Gazette-Journal 13 January, 1886
6 Reno Gazette-Journal, 5 June, 1888
7 Reno Gazette-Journal, 5 January, 1889
8 Reno Gazette-Journal, 31 October, 1887
9 Nevada State Journal, Reno, 28 December, 1888
10 Oakland Daily Evening Tribune, 19 September,
1888
