GIRLS OF THE GULCH

Lizzie was no lady

By Jerry L. Bryant

Had she lived longer, Elizabeth Lovell would have rivaled Calamity Jane in pure frontier spunk and firepower. Observations of two independent Deadwood newspapers, the Black Hills Daily Times and the Black Hills Daily Pioneer, indicate she was either a deeply disturbed soul who lost her life in what may have been a cry for help, or an intolerant woman who wouldn’t tolerate any man doing her wrong.

The first mention of Elizabeth Lovell in local newspapers came in September of 1877 when she appeared in front of Justice Baker on charges of malicious mischief for demolishing her neighbor’s fence. Justice Baker gave Elizabeth a sound lecture and sent her home after telling her to never do anything like that again.

On January16, 1878, Elizabeth was back in the news with the publication of a new claim location, the Lloyd Lode, and for a confrontation that would help build her reputation as a shootist.

The conflict began on the previous day when a group of miners hoped to claim a piece of land that Elizabeth believed was legally hers. The miners had opened an adit and installed a windlass at the portal when Elizabeth arrived on the scene. The claim was known as the Mother Lode, so the Daily Pioneer came up with a description of Mother Lovell protecting the Mother Lode. The encounter went a little further than just an argument over ownership when Elizabeth pulled her “six-shooter with the four inch barrel.” Her opponents retreated in great disarray, and Elizabeth “knocked the windlass back into the open shaft.” In the process, her “howitzer exploded tearing a hole in Mrs. Lovell’s dress.”

In April Elizabeth was in front of the Grand Jury on a charge of malicious mischief. The charge was ignored.

 “The Amazon of Elizabethville was out on the shoot again this morning.”

 By early May of ‘78, Elizabeth had been in front of the judge four different times for four different legal infractions. On  May 7, she made the front page of the Times again, when she stormed a miner’s camp. The newspaper article stated, “The Amazon of Elizabethtown was out on the shoot again this morning with her little gun, storming the position of a couple of miners who she claimed were working her ground.” When the miners, “who knew of her belligerent nature, saw her marching on their works, they deserted and fell back in great disorder.” The article went on to say that Elizabeth had already been arrested, and at least three prior times had been apprehended for attacking “weak parties of men who attempted to fool around her property.”

On June 25, 1878, Elizabeth was on the front page again. The previous day she had threatened to shoot another of Elizabethtown’s male citizens, then barricaded herself in her home. That incident was the result of a long-standing dispute of the ownership of a small cabin in Elizabethtown. John Tomby claimed to be the cabin’s legal owner. So did Elizabeth. On the Monday evening, June 24, Elizabeth, noting that Tomby was not at the cabin, proceeded to take armed possession of the building to wait for Tomby’s return. When Tomby came home later that night, Elizabeth and her “Little Gun” met him at the door. He promptly abandoned the claim and went to fill out a warrant for her arrest.

Under a headline reading, “Elizabeth to the front - Castle Lovell barricaded,” the newspaper summarized Elizabeth’s general activities. “She gets out on the War Path about so often, and she goes for some big bulldozing brute of a man with her little gun, and when she turns loose she makes them skip too, for there is blood on the moon.”

Early on the morning of the 25^th, Officers Storm and Brewer, followed by a vast assemblage of other folks, approached the Lovell residence with the intent of serving a warrant for Elizabeth’s arrest.  When Officer Storm demanded entrance to the Lovell home, Elizabeth refused. He then asked her to come to the window so he could read the warrant to her. Again she refused to move from her fortified position in the hallway of her home. Law officers and neighbors who were her friends tried to persuade her to come out of the house, all to no avail.

Elizabeth proclaimed she would never be taken alive. Numerous promises concerning her safety fell on deaf ears. Men had made promises to her before, she said, and she would not be fooled into believing that any man knows how to tell the truth, especially in the Hills. The officers negotiated with Elizabeth for several more hours before retiring for rest and liquid refreshment.

            The next morning several hundred onlookers who accompanied law officers to the scene were amused that the law seemed powerless against this one single woman.

On the third day of the siege a $100 reward was offered for her capture. On day four of the standoff, a court appointed lawyer, Addison W. Hastie, arrived at Elizabeth’s front door, convinced that he could persuade her to put down her arms and accompany him to the county jail. With smiles and soft words he encouraged her to open the door. She did. Armed with two cocked pistols in one hand and a large Navy revolver in the other, Elizabeth informed him she was ready for business. The newspaper reported,  “This formidable and unexpected war like array of death dealing implements knocked the General’s smiles into expressions of fear, and instead of presenting the most smiling front that was ever seen in the hills, he showed up the scaredest looking mug conceivable and retreated at the first opportunity.”

Hastie’s final statement was “she looked wilder than a wild owl, and no amount of smiles will ever capture her -- she is too old to be taken in by that sort of foolishness, and a different strategy must be employed to corral her.”

At this point, officials noted certain peculiarities with the charges leveled against Ms. Lovell and all charges were dropped.

Elizabeth’s closest neighbor, John Tomby, seemed to have had enough of the whole affair. He put his piece of land and its disputed cabin up for sale. It was not on the market very long. A fellow by the name of Francis Johnson bought it toward the end of July. All newspaper accounts of this incident agreed that Johnson knew exactly what he was buying into -- big trouble in a dress.

Soon after the purchase, Elizabeth found Johnson busy tearing down the fence she had constructed to protect what she viewed as her cabin. She marched out to the fence and began to tell Johnson he was making a great mistake. Johnson told Elizabeth where she could go. Both parties went for their guns, but Elizabeth was a little faster and got the drop on Johnson. He was still in the process of pulling his revolver from his belt when Elizabeth aimed at his vitals and shot him from a distance of 4 feet. The ball struck the knuckle of his little finger and exited at the back of his wrist, perforated his shirt, made a circuit of his right side, and flew across the street where it narrowly missed the head of an on-looker. Elizabeth, thinking that her business was finished, was retiring to her house when Johnson finished pulling out his revolver and got off two shots at the retreating woman. One shot just missed her head as she disappeared through the door.

 On June 30 it was noted in a brief article that charges against Elizabeth were dropped because Judge Charles E. Barker determined the shooting had been done in self-defense.

The Black Hills Daily Pioneer of October 11, 1878, factiously suggested Elizabeth be nominated to run for sheriff because of her past record. The same article also nominated Negro Gener for the Register of Deeds, because he was always on hand, and Frenchy the Bottle Fiend for treasurer because he was such a good collector.

That same day, John Rogers, who owned a claim next to Elizabeth’s, appeared in court charged with malicious mischief. Rogers had been working his claim when the problem arose. He was sinking a shaft on his claim, dumping the waste rock into a partially collapsed shaft. Elizabeth arrived and ordered Rogers to cease and desist. “He having the fear of man, and in this case worse than man – woman -- before his eyes, did as commanded.”

Not satisfied with stopping Rogers, Elizabeth wanted him to pay for damages she had incurred by having her shaft filled up and filed charges against him. Results of the court case were not published, but based on events of the next few days it would be safe to say that Elizabeth was not happy with the results.

On October 14, Rogers and a friend, a night watchman named Bennett, sat on the front porch of Johnny’s home that adjoined Elizabeth Lovell’s digs. The shortest route for Johnny to get to his house was across Elizabeth’s land. She had warned him on several occasions it would be much safer for his health if he found a different path to his home, one that did not cross her land. Bennett, the first of the pair to see Elizabeth coming, told Johnny she looked upset and in all likelihood he was going to have to shoot her. “I can’t shoot a woman,” Johnny said and left the porch, going inside the house to avoid her. Hot on his trail, Elizabeth followed Johnny into the house, placed the pistol to his breast and fired point blank.

Elizabeth fled back down the hill. Johnny, not realizing the seriousness of his wound, grabbed Bennett’s revolver, made for the front door and fired four shots at the retreating woman. His last shot hit Elizabeth, entering the back of her head and exiting through her left eye.

Amazingly, Elizabeth lived for 45 minutes. Johnny Rogers lingered near death for several days. The bullet had entered his body near the apex of his heart and was still lodged in his body cavity. Dr. Dickinson stated that Johnny’s wound appeared to be mortal although there was a slim chance that he might survive.

 Epilogue

           Like most good subjects for a local legend, Elizabeth was not yet in the ground when tales of her deeds and misdeeds began to be spun. The Times immediately began casting about for someone to blame. Officer Beaman had held her in custody for threatening the life of John Rogers, then released her on a $300 bond. Elizabeth’s threat, made in the courtroom after the judge ordered Rogers released, was that she would shoot John Rogers and hang three or four other men. But despite her threats she was released. The Black Hills Daily Times stated that 99% of all local residents and all law officers were convinced that she should have been cared for rather than shot. The Times article then listed people who had been declared insane by the courts in January of 1878, beginning with “Uncle” Billy Coffin. In June of that year the probate court ordered three people committed to an insane asylum and Noah Siever transported them there. But Elizabeth Lovell wasn’t among them.

Before Elizabeth was in the ground, Patrick Early petitioned the probate court to be named special administrator of her estate and immediately proceeded to take possession of the estate. When the books were examined by a representative of the Times in April of 1879, it was discovered that Elizabeth’s assets were just sufficient to cover burial costs and final medical expenses.  Mr. Early was discharged, his duties completed.

However, further investigations indicated that Elizabeth’s assets were actually more in the neighborhood of $2000, an amount much in excess of burial costs. Furthermore, her burial had not been paid for, nor had her burial clothes, nor the coffin. Also unaccounted for were her fine gold pocket watch and chain, a diamond necklace and a valuable pin. Included in the estate were several city lots in Elizabethtown, as well as her home, furniture, and mining claims. All appeared lost to the shenanigans of Mr. Early.

But a legend is really never lost. Articles in the Times and the Pioneer revealed the rest of the story in December 1881 when a man named Butler was reassigned as administrator of Elizabeth’s estate. S. T. Butler apparently realized there was a fox in the hen house when it came to handling the irascible woman’s estate.

Butler’s investigations ended up putting Patrick Early in front of a judge to explain his gross mishandling of Elizabeth’s affairs. Mr. Early had apparently given the gold watch and chain to Mrs. Early. During Butler’s investigation they were relinquished to the court. The diamonds eventually ended up on display – at Butler’s Jewelry Store. Could the fox have been eaten by a wolf?

Johnny Rogers didn’t die from Elizabeth’s well placed round. A few years later, still bothered by the wound, he fell from a riverboat on the Missouri and drowned. He had been on his way to Chicago to book more entertainment for his Deadwood Metropolitan Theater.

Perhaps the first of the Girls of the Gulch to die in a shootout, Elizabeth Lovell was initially buried in the Elizabethtown Cemetery. Her body was moved to Mount Moriah about the same time the name of that Deadwood cemetery was changed from Hebrew Hill.