The Real Story Behind Bowers Mansion in Washoe Valley

  Tamera J. Buzick has long been passionate about the story of Ellison (“Eilley”) and Lemuel Sanford (“Sandy”) Bowers.

  As she writes in the fun introduction to her new book, “Bowers Mansion: The Legacy of a Comstock Family,” she first wrote about them in her first U.S. history class as a student at the University of Nevada, Reno, and returned to their story for several other papers over the years.

  Later, after embarking on her career as a high school math teacher, she found herself returning to their story, spending the next two decades researching them. She began working on a biography, but then put it away for another two decades, while still continuing her research.

  In the early 2020s, Buzick, who by then had retired and become a curator at the Bowers Mansion, decided to finally complete her biography. With the aid of former Nevada State Preservation Officer and prolific author Ronald M. James, she was able to complete and expand her manuscript, including incorporating an architectural history by Michael “Bert” Bedeau.

  The result in a comprehensive look into the lives of Eilley and Sandy Bowers, who built Bowers Mansion, with a particular emphasis on the former. Their story also coincides and is interconnected with many of the major events in early Nevada.

  The focus on Eilley Bowers is warranted because she was a fascinating and often-misunderstood figure in Nevada history. 

  Eilley Bowers was born Alison Oram in Scotland on September 6, 1826. According to Buzick, little is known about her childhood, but in April 1842, she married Stephen Hunter, who was four years older than her.

  In 1848, Hunter embraced the then-new religion of the Church of Latter-Day Saints and the pair decided to relocate to Salt Lake City, Utah, to help with the establishment of that community. The transition apparently put a strain on their marriage and, in 1850, they divorced.

  Three years later, Eilley, who had remained in Salt Lake City, married Alexander Cowan, another Scottish emigrant who had joined the Mormon Church and journeyed to Salt Lake City. In 1855, the two relocated to the settlement of Genoa in the far western Utah Territory.

  Buzick continues Eilley’s story through her time in Washoe Valley, the end of her marriage to Cowan, her move to the booming Comstock region, and her meeting and, eventually, marrying, Sandy Bowers.

  From this point, the Bowers story becomes more familiar, with Sandy Bowers success in the silver mines in the early 1860s, which resulted in them being considered among the first millionaires on the Comstock.

  In 1863, they completed work on the magnificent sixteen-room home in Washoe Valley that became known as the Bowers Mansion. They filled the house with furnishings acquired during a lengthy trip through Europe and, with adopted daughter Persia, lived in splendor for a handful of years.

  In 1868, however, Sandy Bowers died at the age of 35, leaving his family with the mansion, mining properties, but also serious debt. Eilley managed to resolve part of the debt, but was left nearly destitute. She turned to leasing out the mansion as a boarding house and resort, and to her growing fame as a “prophetess,” who could allegedly see the future.

  Over the next decade, Eilley faced the sudden and unexpected death of Persia in July 1874, a financially-disastrous effort to expand the mansion to make it more profitable as a resort in 1875, and, in 1876, the loss of the mansion.

  Buzick recounts the rest of Eilley’s story and the eventual saving of the mansion, which, today, is a county park. The final chapters include Bedeau’s excellent architectural history of the building and one by James that provides an historical context for the Bowers’ story.

  “Bowers Mansion: The Legacy of a Comstock Family,” by Tamera J. Busick is published by the University of Nevada Press and available from the press website (https://unpress.nevada.edu/9781647792237/bowers-mansion/) and from local bookstores and online retailers.

Frontier Journalist Fred Hart was a Man of Many Names

 

Austin in the late 1860s

   If former Reese River Reveille editor Fred Hart is known for anything today, it is for concocting the fictional Sazerac Lying Club for that Austin, Nevada newspaper in the early 1870s.

   For about four years, Hart regularly recounted the minutes of the local social club’s meetings in the pages of the Reveille—in spite of the fact that club did not actually exist. His tall tales of the club’s doings were so popular, in fact, that in 1878 he compiled them into a book that was successful enough to go into five printings.

   But the Sazerac Lying Club wasn’t Hart’s first literary invention. Several years earlier, in 1868, Hart began writing under a pen name—Van Jacquelin—when he contributed letters to the Reveille about promising mining activities in the White Pine Mining District.

   The use of a nom de plume was fairly common in Nevada newspapers during this period. A few years earlier, a young Virginia City newspaper reporter named Samuel Clemens had begun writing under the name, Mark Twain, while one of his co-workers, William Wright, wrote under the name Dan De Quille.

   By 1873, Hart had moved to Austin and become editor of the Reveille. In addition to his reporting for that paper, he also traveled to Carson City during the sessions of the Nevada State Legislature and reported on its activities for other publications. Here, he out-did Twain and De Quille by utilizing yet another pseudonym, Toby Green.

   In fact, during the 1873, 1875, and 1877 legislative sessions, Toby Green’s dispatches on state government activities appeared in the Gold Hill News, owned at the time by renowned newspaper editor Alfred Doten, as well as in several other Nevada newspapers.

   Perhaps feeling the freedom of writing under a pen name, Hart’s Green stories sometimes had a slightly sarcastic tone with an edge. He often poked fun at self-important legislators and mocked the tedious hearings.

   For example, in “Letter from the Capital,” which appeared in the News on January 14, 1873, Green wrote: “In the Senate today, Mr. Phelan [State Senator James Phelan of Storey County] gave notice of a bill providing for the appointment of an inspector of alcoholic liquors. If ever there was need of the creation of an office there is need in this instance.

   “Let a man take two drinks of ordinary Carson whisky and in five minutes afterward he’ll fancy that he owns the Capitol, the Warm Springs and the Mint. I think there ought to be a man—with a cast-iron, copper-bottomed stomach—whose duty shall be to examine this rotgut, and throw it ‘righd avay oud.’”

   Strangely, it appears that having two nom de plumes may not have been enough for Hart. In the February 26, 1875 edition of the Eureka Sentinel, a letter to the editor purportedly from a reader in Virginia City named “Quien Sabe,” which is Spanish for “who knows,” wrote of encountering Toby Green and Van Jacquelin.

   “I also saw Toby Green, the lively correspondent of the Gold Hill News. He was very agreeable and gentlemanly, and informed me that his full name was Tobias, but he signed Toby for shortness, and with the view of saving ink for the State. Good, economical soul, I shall never forget him.

   “On the second day I met Van Jacquelin, the racy correspondent of the Reese River Reveille, and was astonished at the resemblance he bears to Toby Green. He told me the likeness had been remarked by others, and modestly said that he thought that Toby was better looking than he was.

   “He informed me that he was a brother of Bret Harte, who is widely known as the author of a religious work called the ‘Heathen Chinee.’ He said his true name was Fred Hart, and that the final e was assumed by Bret as an aristrocratical appellation. Fred was not at all stuck up, but on the contrary was very affable and attentive to me.”

   From the tone and style of the letter, it’s pretty obvious that Quien Sabe most likely was another pen name for Fred Hart.

   But, as Quien Sabe might say—who knows?

Silver City's Devil's Gate Has Fascinating History

 

Devil's Gate in the 1860s

"As I passed through the Devil's Gate it struck me that there was something ominous in the name." —J. Ross Browne, A Peep At Washoe, published in 1860

  Twin walls of craggy, dark rock jut from the surrounding canyon, almost meeting in the center. A two-lane road barely squeezes through the center of the stone barricades. Welcome to the rock formation known as Devil’s Gate near Silver City.

  Almost since men discovered silver and gold in nearby Gold Canyon, Devil’s Gate has had a reputation for being a mysterious place.

  Formed from lava rock, the passage through Devil’s Gate was widened in the middle of the 19th century when part of the jagged rock wall was blasted away for a wagon road. It is located about 3 1/2 miles south of Virginia City on State Route 341, at the entrance to Silver City.

  In addition to having a somewhat scary name, Devil’s Gate gained its early notoriety in the late 1850s and early 1860s when the narrow passage was known as a hideout for highwaymen and robbers.

  J. Ross Browne, a noted 19th century journalist, wrote that the trip through the gate’s narrows was unsafe for travelers because of the “unhallowed character of the place.”

  Dozens of newspaper reports from the day mention people being relieved of their watches, wallets and other possessions as a “toll” extracted by unsavory types lying in wait at the gate.

  In addition to any involuntary toll, there was also, for many years, an official toll station at the gate. Since the passage was the easiest way to reach Virginia City, the gate saw thousands of newcomers trudging through its narrow opening on their way to the Queen of the Comstock.

  Still, despite the area’s notoriety, by 1860, a significant mining boomtown cropped up adjacent to Devil’s Gate, which was known as Silver City. Browne vividly describes the hustle and bustle of the area, with its bawdy saloons, frail wooden shacks and miners of every ethnicity crawling over the hillsides in search of a big strike.

  Nevada historian Stanley Paher notes in his “Ghost Towns and Mining Camps of Nevada,” that Silver City had a population of 1,200 in 1861. Additionally, it could claim boarding houses, saloons, four hotels and extensive stables.

  The town ultimately became an important link between the Comstock Lode mines of Virginia City and the processing mills located near Dayton and along the Carson River.

  While the town thrived for a few years, its own mills and mines proved to be less productive than Virginia City and Gold Hill. A serious decline began after 1869 with completion of the Virginia and Truckee Railroad, which reduced the town’s value as a freight center.

  Perhaps because Silver City has never gained the acclaim and attention of Virginia City, today there are significant remnants including a handful of historic structures still in use that serve as direct links to the town’s rich past.

  While the community does not have a large commercial district like Virginia City, it does have a post office, a substantial cemetery and such historic buildings as the Hardwick House, a former icehouse (and former bed and breakfast) built in 1862, and the restored Donovan Mill Museum (which is definitely worth a visit).

  For more information, go to: https://westernmininghistory.com/towns/nevada/silver-city/.

Cable Cars are a Special San Francisco Treat

  When you think about the city of San Francisco, one of the first things that comes to mind are its iconic cable cars. It’s impossible to imagine the city, one of America’s most scenic, without its unique clanging, grinding public transportation system.

  The cable car system was the brainchild of Andrew S. Hallidie, a transplanted Englishman and engineer. One day in 1869, Hallidie was watching a horse-drawn streetcar attempt to climb one of San Francisco's steep streets.

  The animals struggled, partially making it up the hill before slipping on the wet cobblestone road surface and being dragged by the heavy car back down to the bottom of the hill.

  Hallidie thought there had to be a better way. He began developing a plan for an underground system of thick metal wires, which would continually circulate. Streetcars would be designed to clamp onto these cables, and thereby be able to be pulled forward, including up San Francisco’s steep hills.

  Over the next four years, he worked on his designs for the project, and then lobbied for funds to built it. Despite considerable skepticism, Hallidie succeeded in gaining support and, on August 2, 1873, the first cable car made a run from the top of Clay Street, down Nob Hill's steep east side.

  The test was so successful that within seven years, the city had installed eight lines with more than 112 miles of cable.

  Fortunately, "Hallidie's Folly," as it was originally called, not only weathered the early criticism but also later attempts to remove the system in the name of modernization (the fate of nearly every other cable car system later built in America).

  Today, three cable car lines operate in San Francisco—and will in perpetuity, under the provisions of a city charter amendment adopted by the residents in 1971. Additionally, the system was designated a national historic landmark in 1964 by the National Park Service.

  The most popular routes are the two Powell Street lines, both of which can be picked up at the turntable at Powell and Market streets, in the heart of the shopping district.

  The Powell-Mason branch takes riders through Union Plaza, over the top of Nob Hill, then down to a turntable on Mason Street, about two blocks from the center of Fisherman's Wharf.

  The Powell-Hyde line is a tad more dramatic a ride, taking you from the same starting point, up to Nob Hill, then veering west through some steep terrain, over Russian Hill, before coasting to Victorian Park, at the northern end of Fisherman's Wharf.

  The latter route is probably the busiest in the system, so be prepared to wait in line at both ends of the ride.

  The third cable car line is the Van Ness-California route, which runs from the foot of California Street, near Market Street, in the financial district, then travels northwest, through Chinatown, to Van Ness Avenue at Nob Hill.

  Riding on a cable car is not only a reasonably cheap thrill— it only costs $5 to ride each way, which is a bargain in a pricey city like San Francisco—but an essential part of playing tourist in the city.

  Plus there is something magical about standing on the running boards of a cable car (for the full effect, the best place to stand is in the front, hanging onto an exterior pole), feeling the brisk ocean breeze against your face.

  The steep, somewhat frightening inclines, sharp turns, diverse sights, broad buffet of sounds and exotic odors, including the metallic smell of the cable car brakes, are all part of the experience.

  Additionally, San Francisco's brakemen, who are the guys manipulating the levers and brakes that control the cable car, are often showmen. Most have their own styles in the way they ring the car's bells and bark out the various stops along the way.

  Of course, for those not quite ready to hang on the outside, dodging the occasional automobile, there are plenty of seats within the cable car.

  A few other facts about the cable cars:

  • Despite evidence seemingly to the contrary, cable cars do not travel any faster than nine-and-a-half miles per hour.

  • Cable cars have three brakes, so they are difficult to dislodge from the underground cable.

  • Some 7 to 9.7 million passengers travel on the cable cars each year.

  • San Francisco’s cable cars operate from 7 a.m. to 11 p.m. daily.

  For those wanting to learn more about the cable car system, there are excellent exhibits and tours available at the Cable Car Barn and Powerhouse, which is the nerve center for the system. The museum is located at Washington and Mason Streets and is open Tuesday through Thursday from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m., 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. on Friday, Saturday, Sunday (closed on Mondays). Admission is free.

  For more information about San Francisco's cable car system, go to: https://www.cablecarmuseum.org/.

History Found in Nearly Every Building in Genoa

Historic Genoa trading post in 1911 (before it was destroyed by fire)

  Some of Nevada’s oldest surviving buildings can be found lining the streets of Genoa. In fact, anyone who has ever studied the state’s history is aware of Genoa’s role in the state’s development. It was the state’s first town as well as home of the first printed newspaper and site of the first territorial government meetings.

  Located about 13 miles south of Carson City via U.S. 396 and Jack’s Valley Road, Genoa was settled in 1849 when Mormon traders built a crude log enclosure, without a roof or floor. The post was abandoned, but just two years later, traders returned and erected a more permanent trading post and fort, known as the Mormon Station, a short distance from the original site.

  Today’s Mormon Station State Historical Monument in the center of Genoa is a replica of the original wooden complex that provided goods to those traveling on the Emigrant Trail to California.

  The replica fort, constructed in 1947 on the site of the original, which burned in 1910, contains interpretive historic displays about the area and includes a beautiful, shaded picnic area.

  The Mormon Station, however, is only the most obvious example of Genoa’s rich past. If you wander the streets of this historic community, you can find that nearly every house and lot have a story.

  Sadly, the fire of 1910 that destroyed the original Mormon Station, also burned many of the town’s other pioneer buildings and, no doubt, signaled the end of Genoa as the seat for Douglas County. That authority was shifted to the larger town of Minden in 1916.

  Still, plenty of pieces of the old town have survived, including the John S. Childs building near the southwest corner of Nixon and Main streets. The first floor of this brick structure was erected in 1862 and served as a dry goods store for many years. In 1874, the local Masons Organization constructed a second floor to serve as a lodge.

  Adjacent to the Childs/Mason building is a one-story stone structure, now an antique shop, which was constructed in the 1870s as a dry goods store.

  Next door, is the Old Genoa Bar, located in a building that is said to have been built in the 1850s. The bar, which boasts uneven wooden floors and a hodgepodge of historic political posters on its walls, claims to be the “oldest thirst parlor” in the state.

  At the corner of Carson and Main streets is a brick Victorian home built in the mid-1850s by William J. "Lucky Bill" Thorington, a gambler, shrewd businessman and, allegedly, a polygamist.

  Thorington was hanged in Genoa in 1858 for aiding a horse thief, although some historians believe he was killed by those jealous of his success and unconventional lifestyle. The house was later owned by Judge D.W. Virgin, who was the county’s first district attorney.

  The Raycroft/Depot House, located near the Thorington home, can trace its pedigree to the 1850s. The original building, which has been covered-up by later additions, served as the law offices for Senator William Stewart, one of Nevada’s first U.S. Senators, and Judge Virgin. It was later used as a newspaper printing plant, a butcher shop, and a stagecoach depot.

  The Pratt House, located on Nixon Street adjacent to the Genoa Community Church, was built in 1872 by local newspaper publishers A.C. and Alice Pratt. Now known as the Genoa House Inn, a bed and breakfast, the two-story Victorian is one of the most photogenic homes in Genoa.

  The Pink House, located south of the Mormon Station Park, is one of the most historic homes in town. It was constructed in 1853 by John Reese, one of the founders of the Mormon Station trading post. In 1870, it was moved to its present location by a prominent merchant, J.R. Johnson and later was home of Judge Virgin and his family.

  The magnificent Kinsey House, located northeast of the Pink House, was built in 1856 by Stephen A. Kinsey, one of the original Mormon Station settlers and the first postmaster in Carson Valley.

  Strangely, while the Kinsey home appears to be constructed of wood because of its classic white balconies and columns, it is actually a brick building. Like many of Genoa’s historic houses, it is a private residence so be careful not to disturb the residents.

  The Genoa Courthouse Museum at Main and 5th streets, is a two-story, brick structure that was built in 1865 and served as the Douglas County Courthouse until 1916, when the county seat was moved.

  For the next four decades, the building was used as a school. After 1969, it has been a local museum. The courthouse, which has been restored, contains dozens of exhibits describing the community’s rich history.

  For more information about Genoa, go to: https://travelnevada.com/cities/genoa/.

The Tragic History Behind Virginia City's St. Mary's Art Center

   Virginia City’s St. Mary’s Art Center—celebrating its 150th anniversary this year—can trace its beginnings to a terrible tragedy in 1873. At a minute before eleven on the evening of July 29, a loud  blast rocked the mining community and killed 11 of the city’s residents.

   “The explosion was doubtless the work of nitroglycerine, as we learn that six cans of this pent-up lightning were stored in the building, under the rooms of [General Jacob] Van Bokkelen and [J.P.] Smith, on Friday last,” noted the Virginia City Chronicle on June 30.

   “Gen. Van Bokkelen was the local agent of several powder companies—is said to have been agent for black, giant and Hercules powder,” it continued. “The explosion seemed to come from General Van Bokkelen’s room.”

   The Chronicle said one possible cause was the fact that Van Bokkelen owned a pet monkey, which lived with him in his room. According to the newspaper, the general most likely had small or large quantities of powder and nitroglycerine in his room as well.

   “He entered his room only about twenty minutes before the explosion, and doubtless proceeded at once to undress,” the Chronicle noted. “While his lamp was still burning, the monkey probably got on a jamboree and upset the lamp or a can of nitroglycerine. Of course, the truth will never be known.”

   In addition to Van Bokkelen and Smith, nine other people, and presumably the monkey, were killed in the explosion.

   The land where the St. Mary’s Art Center is located today was the site of a beer garden owned by Van Bokkelen, who had served as Nevada Provost Marshall during the Civil War, and was a prominent local businessman. After his death, the beer garden was put up for sale and was purchased by Marie Louise Mackay, wife of Comstock silver baron John Mackay, the wealthiest man in the state and one of the richest in the country.

   Mrs. Mackay donated the site to a Catholic religious order, Daughters of Charity, for use as a hospital. In 1876, the new four-story, brick facility opened as the St. Mary Louise Hospital. It offered 36 rooms, which could accommodate up to 70 patients, as well as hot and cold running water in each room.

   The Daughters continued to operate the hospital for the next two decades. In 1897, Virginia City’s declining mining industry and dwindling population resulted in the order leaving the area and turning over operations of the hospital to Storey County.

   Continuing population declines in the 1920s and 30s,forced the county to close the hospital in the 1940s. For many years after, the elegant brick building sat vacant and in decline.

   In the early 1960s, however, Virginia City saw the development of a vibrant, local art scene. Several of these artists worked with Father Paul Meinecke, to reopen the building, now known as the St. Mary’s Art Center. The effort came at the right time as plans had been announced to demolish the historic building.

   According to the Art Center’s website, one of those artists was Louise Curran, who became the first director of the new center. The first artist to teach classes in the center was a California-based painter Richard Yip and he was soon followed by many others.

   In the 1990s, the center opened its doors to the public, making the facility available for a variety of uses.

   Today, St. Mary’s Art Center serves as one of Virginia City’s most well-known and popular art spaces, with a year-round resident artist program and exhibits in seven rotating galleries in the once-again elegant structure.

   Tours of the center are offered on Tuesdays through Saturdays by appointment (at https://www.stmarysartcenter.org/book-online) or 775-440-0992.

   For more information, go to: https://www.stmarysartcenter.org/.

The Stories Behind Nevada's County Names Part 2

William Ormsby

   While it’s pretty obvious who Lincoln County was named after, what about Nevada’s other counties? What are the origins of the names of Lyon, Nye or Lander counties? And what county is named for a former U.S. Senator who was accused of purchasing his seat?

   The following are the namesakes for the rest of Nevada’s counties. Part one of this story appeared last week.

   • Lyon County is named to honor General Nathanial Lyon, a Civil War-era commander who died in action during the Battle of Wilson’s Creek. Lyon was the first Union general killed in the Civil War. His efforts on behalf of the Union are said to have prevented Missouri from joining the Confederacy.

   • Ormsby County (now simply the combined city-county of Carson City) honors William M. Ormsby an early Nevada business owner and political figure who helped to establish Carson City and the Nevada Territory. In May 1860, after the owners of a trading post near present-day Silver Springs kidnapped two Paiute girls and were killed by Paiute warriors in retaliation, Ormsby led a group of about 100 armed men to Pyramid Lake to confront the tribe. Ill-equipped and poorly trained, the force was ambushed south of the lake and about three quarters were killed, including Ormsby. The encounter became known as the first battle of the so-called Pyramid Lake or Paiute War.

   • Storey County was named for Edward Farris Storey, a Nevada pioneer who, like Ormsby, was a casualty of the Pyramid Lake War. Storey was the commander of Company K of the Nevada Militia, known as the Virginia City Rifles. He and his men joined Ormsby’s campaign to attack the Paiutes and was killed in June 1860 during the second battle of the war, during which the Paiutes were routed by the combined forces of Nevada militia and regular U.S. Army troops.

   • Washoe County is the only county in the state named for a Native American tribe. The Washoe (also spelled Washo) people had resided for generations in the Truckee Meadows.

   • Lander County is named for Frederick W. Lander, a Civil War general who died of pneumonia shortly after successfully defending the community of Romney, Maryland from an assault by Confederate forces. On February 14, 1862, he led a successful charge against a Confederate encampment at Bloomery Gap but two weeks later succumbed to what was called “congestive chill.”

   • Nye County’s name honors James W. Nye, who served as Nevada’s first Territorial Governor and later was elected to the U.S. Senate representing Nevada (1864-1873).

   • Elko County takes its name from the city of Elko, which was named by Charles Crocker superintendent of the Central Pacific Railroad. The name, it is said, came from Crocker’s fondness for taking animal names and adding an “o,” but there’s no evidence to support that claim. Another version of the story is that Elko is a Shoshone word for either “white woman” or “beautiful” or “white elk.” Basically, no one knows where the name came from.

   • White Pine County derives its name from the many stands of limber pine (also called white pine) trees said to be found in this part of eastern Nevada.

   • Eureka County derives its name from the mining town (and district) of Eureka, which was established in 1864. The name is a Greek word meaning “I found it.”

   • Clark County is named to honor William A. Clark, owner of the San Pedro, Los Angeles and Salt Lake Railroad, which founded the city of Las Vegas (in 1905). Clark made his fortune in copper mining in Montana and in 1899 was chosen to serve as one of the state’s U.S. Senators (at the time, state legislatures appointed U.S. Senators). However, the U.S. Senate refused to seat him after it came out that he had bribed Montana legislators to gain the post. He was finally elected to the Senate in 1901 and served one term.

   • Mineral County’s name is pretty easy to understand. The name reflects the multitude of mineral resources found in the region.

   • Pershing County was named in honor of John J. “Black Jack” Pershing, a much decorated and highly-respected Army general who led the American Expeditionary Forces during World War I.