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When Agnes Moulton Coolbrith joined the Mormon Church in Boston in 1832, she met and married Prophet Don Carlos Smith, the brother of Joseph Smith, founder of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. There, at the first Mormon settlement, Agnes gave birth to three daughters. The youngest was Josephine Donna Smith, born 1841. Only four months after Josephine Donna Smith’s birth, Don Carlos Smith died of malaria. In spite of Don Carlos being a bitter opposer of the ‘spiritual wife’ doctrine, Agnes was almost immediately remarried to her late husband’s brother, Joseph Smith in 1842, making her his probably seventh wife.

Today we will talk about Josephine Donna Smith’s, who’s life in California spanned the pioneer American occupation, to the first renaissance of the 19thcentury feminist movement. an American poet, writer, librarian, and a legend in the San Francisco Bay Area literary community. Season 3 features inspiring, gallant, even audacious stories of REAL 19th Century women from the Wild West. Stories that contain adult content, including violence which may be, disturbing to some listeners, or secondhand listeners. So, discretion is advised. I am Andrea Anderson and this is Queens of the Mines, Season Three.

They called her Ina.

But Sharing your partner with that many people may leave you lonely at times. Not surprisingly, during the marriage, Agnes felt neglected. Two years later, Smith was killed at the hands of an anti-Mormon and anti-polygamy mob. Agnes, scared for her life, moved to Saint Louis, Missouri with Ina and her siblings. Agnes reverted to using her maiden name, Coolbrith, to avoid identification with Mormonism and her former family. She did not speak of their Mormon past.

She married again, in Missouri, to William Pickett. Pickett had also converted to Mormonism, and had a second wife. He was an LDS Church member, a printer, a lawyer and an alcoholic. Agnes had twin sons with Pickett. They left the church and headed west, leaving his second wife behind.

Ina had never been in a school, but Pickett had brought along a well-worn copy of Byron’s poetry, a set of Shakespeare, and the Bible. As they traveled, the family passed time reading. Inspired, Ina made up poetry in her head as she walked alongside her family’s wagon. Somewhere in the Nevada sands, the children of the wagon train gathered as Ina buried her doll after it took a tumble and split its head.

Ina’s life in California started at her arrival in front of the wagon train through Beckwourth Pass in 1851. Her sister and her riding bareback on the horse of famous mountain man, explorer and scout Jim Beckwourth. He had guided the caravan and called Ina his “Little Princess.” In Virgina, Beckwourth was born as a slave. His father, who was his owner, later freed him. As the wagon train crossed into California, he said, “Here, little girls, is your kingdom.” The trail would later be known as Beckwourth Pass. Ina was the first white child to cross through the Sierra Nevadas on Beckwourth Pass.

The family settled in San Bernardino and then in Los Angeles which still had largely a Mormon and Mexican population. Flat adobe homes with courtyards filled with pepper trees, vineyards, and peach and pomegranate orchards. In Los Angeles, Agnes’s new husband Pickett established a law practice. Lawyers became the greatest beneficiaries, after the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo, acquiring Mexican land in exchange for representation in court contests. Pickett was one of those lawyers.

Ina began writing poetry at age 11 and started school for the first time at 14. Attending Los Angeles’s first public school on Street and Second. She published her poetry in the local newspaper and she was published in The Los Angeles Star/Estrella when she was just fifteen years old.

At 17, she met Robert Bruce Carsley, a part-time actor and a full time iron-worker for Salamander Ironworks. Salamander Ironworks.built jails, iron doors, and balconies. Ina and Robert married in a doctor's home near the San Gabriel Mission. They lived behind the iron works and had a son. But Robert Carsley revealed himself to be an abusive man. Returning from a minstrel show in San Francisco, Carsley became obsessed with the idea that his new wife had been unfaithful to him. Carsley arrived at Pickett’s adobe, where Ina was for the evening, screaming that Ina was a whore in that very tiny quiet pueblo. Pickett gathered up his rifle and shot his son in law's hand off.

The next few months proved to be rough for Ina. She got an uncontested divorce within three months in a sensational public trial, but then, tragically, her infant son died. And although divorce was legal, her former friends crossed the street to avoid meeting her. Ina fell into a deep depression. She legally took her mothers maiden name Coolbrith and moved to San Francisco with her mother, stepfather and their twins.

In San Francisco, Ina continued to write and publish her poetry and found work as an English teacher. Her poems were published in the literary newspaperThe Californian. The editor of The Californian was author Samuel Langhorne Clemens. Also known as, Mark Twain. Ina made friends with Mark Twain, John Muir, Bret Harte and Charles Warren Stoddard, Twain’s queer drinking companion. Coolbrith, renowned for her beauty, was called a “dark-eyed Sapphic divinity” and the "sweetest note in California literature” by Bret Harte. John Muir attempted to introduce her to eligible men.

Coolbrith, Harte and Stoddard formed what became known as the Golden Gate Trinity. The Golden Gate Trinity was closely associated with the literary journal, Overland Monthly, which published short stories written by the 28-year old Mark Twain. Ina became the editorial assistant and for a decade, she supplied one poem for each new issue. Her poems also appeared in Harper’s, Scribner’s, and other popular national magazines.

At her home on Russian Hill, Ina hosted literary gatherings where writers and publishers rubbed shoulders and shared their vision of a new way of writing – writing that was different from East Coast writing. There were readings of poetry and topical discussions, in the tradition of European salons and Ina danced the fandango and played the guitar, singing American and Spanish songs.

Actress and poet Adah Menken was a frequent visitor to her parties. We know Adah Menken from earlier episodes and the Queens of the Mines episode and she is in the book, as she was a past fling of the famous Lotta Crabtree. The friendship between Coolbrith and Menken gave Menken credibility as an intellectual although Ina was never able to impress Harte of Menken's worth at the gatherings.

Another friend of Ina’s was the eccentric poet Cincinnatus H. Miller. Ina introduced Miller to the San Francisco literary circle and when she learned of his adoration of the heroic, tragic life of Joaquin Murrieta, Ina suggested that he take the name Joaquin Miller as his pen name. She insisted he dress the part with longer hair and a more pronounced mountain man style.

Coolbrith and Miller planned a tour of the East Coast and Europe, but when Ina’s mother Agnes and Ina’s sister both became seriously ill, Ina decided to stay in San Francisco and take care of them and her nieces and nephews. Ina agreed to raise Miller’s daughter, Calla Shasta, a beautiful half indigenous girl, as he traveled around Europe brandishing himself a poet.

Coolbrith and Miller had shared an admiration for the poet Lord Byron, and they decided Miller should lay a wreath on his tomb in England. They collected laurel branches in Sausalito, Ina made the wreath. A stir came across the English clergy when Miller placed the wreath on the tomb at the Church of St. Mary Magdalene, Hucknall. They did not understand the connection between the late lord and a couple of California poets. Not to be outdone, the clergy sent to the King of Greece for another laurel wreath from the country of Byron's heroic death. The two wreaths were hung side by side over Byron's tomb. After this, Miller was nicknamed "The Byron of the West." Coolbrith wrote of the excursion in her poem "With a Wreath of Laurel".

Coolbrith was the primary earner for her extended family and they needed a bigger home. So, while Miller was in Europe, she moved her family to Oakland, where she was elected honorary member of the Bohemian Club. When her mother and sister soon died and she became the guardian of her orphaned niece and nephew, The Bohemian Club members discreetly assisted Ina in her finances.

Ina soon took a full-time job as Oakland’s first public librarian. She worked 6 days a week, 12 hours a day, earning $80 per month. Much less than a man would have received in that position at the time. Her poetry suffered as a result of the long work hours and for nearly twenty years, Ina only published sporadically.

Instead, Ina became a mentor for a generation of young readers. She hand chose books for her patrons based on their interests. In 1886, Ina mentored the 10-year-old Jack London. She guided his reading and London called her his "literary mother". London grew up to be an American novelist, journalist and social activist. Twenty years later, London wrote to Coolbrith to thank her he said “I named you Noble. That is what you were to me, noble. That was the feeling I got from you. Oh, yes, I got, also, the feeling of sorrow and suffering, but dominating them, always riding above all, was noble. No woman has so affected me to the extent you did. I was only a little lad. I knew absolutely nothing about you. Yet in all the years that have passed I have met no woman so noble as you."

One young reader was another woman featured in a previous Queens of the Mines episode, Isadora Duncan, “the creator of modern dance”. Duncan described Coolbrith as "a very wonderful" woman, with beautiful eyes that glowed with burning fire and passion. Isadora was the daughter of a man that Ina had dazzled, enough to cause the breakup of his marriage.

The library patrons of Oakland called for reorganization in 1892 and after 18 years of service, a vindictive board of directors fired Ina, giving her three days' notice to clear her desk. One library trustee was quoted as saying "we need a librarian not a poet." She was replaced by her nephew Henry Frank Peterson.

Coolbrith's literary friends were outraged, and worried that Ina would move away, becoming alien to California. They published a lengthy opinion piece to that effect in the San Francisco Examiner. John Muir, who often sent letters and the occasional box of freshly picked fruit, also preferred to keep her in the area, and in one package, a letter suggested that she fill the newly opened position of the librarian of San Francisco. In Coolbrith’s response to Muir, she thanked him for "the fruit of your land, and the fruit of your brain" but said, "No, I cannot have Mr. Cheney's place. I am disqualified by sex." San Francisco required that their librarian be a man.

Ina returned to her beloved Russian Hill. In 1899, the artist William Keith and poet Charles Keeler offered Coolbrith the position as the Bohemian Club’s part-time librarian. Her first assignment was to edit Songs from Bohemia, a book of poems by journalist and the Bohemian Club co-founder, Daniel O'Connell. Her salary in Oakland was $50 each month. The equivalent of $1740 in 2022. She then signed on as staff of Charles Fletcher Lummis's magazine, The Land of Sunshine. Her duties were light enough that she was able to devote a greater proportion of her time to writing.

Coolbrith was often sick in bed with rheumatism. Even as her health began to show signs of deterioration, she did not stop her work at the Bohemian Club. She began to work on a history of California literature as a personal project. Songs from the Golden Gate, was published in 1895; it contained "The Captive of the White City" which detailed the cruelty dealt to Native Americans in the late 19th century.

Coolbrith kept in touch with her first cousin Joseph F. Smith to whom and for whom she frequently expressed her love and regard. In 1916, she sent copies of her poetry collections to him. He publicized them, identifying as a niece of Joseph Smith. This greatly upset Coolbrith. She told him that "To be crucified for a faith in which you believe is to be blessed. To be crucified for one in which you do not believe is to be crucified indeed."

Coolbrith fled from her home at Broadway and Taylor with her Angora cats, her student boarder Robert Norman and her friend Josephine Zeller when the 1906 San Francisco Earthquake hit. Her friends took a few small bundles of letters from colleagues and Coolbrith's scrapbook filled with press clippings about her and her poems. Across the bay, Joaquin Miller spotted heavy smoke and took a ferry from Oakland to San Francisco to help Coolbrith in saving her valuables from encroaching fire. Miller was prevented from doing so by soldiers who had orders to use deadly force against looters. Coolbrith's home burned to the ground.

Soldiers evacuated Russian Hill, leaving Ina and Josie, two refugees, among many, wandering San Francisco’s tangled streets. Coolbrith lost 3,000 books, row upon row of priceless signed first editions, rare original artwork, and many personal letters in the disaster. Above all, her nearly complete manuscript Part memoir, part history of California's early literary scene, including personal stories about her friends Bret Harte, Mark Twain, and John Muir, were lost.

Coolbrith spent a few years in temporary residences after the blaze and her friends rallied to raise money to build her a house. Mark Twain sent three autographed photographs of himself from New York that sold for $10 a piece. He then sat for 17 more studio photographs to further the fund. She received a discreet grant from her Bohemian friends and a trust fund from a colleague in 1910. She set up again in a new house at 1067 Broadway on Russian Hill. Coolbrith got back to business writing and holding literary salons.

Coolbrith traveled by train to New York City several times for several years, greatly increasing her poetry output. In those years she produced more than she had produced in the preceding 25 years.

Her style was more than the usual themes expected of women. Her sensuous descriptions of natural scenes advanced the art of Victorian poetry to incorporate greater accuracy without trite sentiment, foreshadowing the Imagist school and the work of Robert Frost.

Coolbrith was named President of the Congress of Authors and Journalists in preparation for the 1915 Panama–Pacific International Exposition in San Francisco. That year, Coolbrith was also named California's first poet , and the first poet laureate of any American state on June 30, 1915. A poet laureate composed poems for special events and occasions. Then, it was a position for the state that was held for life. The Overland Monthly reported that eyes were wet throughout the large audience when Coolbrith was crowned with a laurel wreath by Benjamin Ide Wheeler, President of the University of California, who called her the "loved, laurel-crowned poet of California." After several more speeches were made in her honor, and bouquets brought in abundance to the podium, 74-year old Coolbrith accepted the honor, wearing a black robe with a sash bearing a garland of bright orange California poppies, saying: "There is one woman here with whom I want to share these honors: Josephine Clifford McCracken. For we are linked together, the last two living members of Bret Harte's staff of Overland writers. In a life of unremitting labor, time and opportunity have been denied. So my meager output of verse is the result of odd moments, and only done at all because so wholly a labor of love.”

Coolbrith continued to write and work to support herself until her final publication in 1917. Six years later, in May of 1923, Coolbrith's friend Edwin Markham found her at the Hotel Latham in New York very old, disabled, ill and broke. Markham asked Lotta Crabtree to gather help for her. Coolbrith was brought back to California where she settled in Berkeley to be cared for by her niece.

The next year, Mills College conferred upon her an honorary Master of Arts degree. In spring of 1926, she received visitors such as her old friend, art patron Albert M. Bender, who brought young Ansel Adams to meet her. Adams made a photographic portrait of Coolbrith seated near one of her white Persian cats and wearing a large white mantilla on her head.

A group of writers began meeting at the St Francis Hotel in San Francisco, naming their group the Ina Coolbrith Circle. When Ina returned to Berkeley she never missed a Sunday meeting until her death at 87-years-old.

Ina Coolbrith died on Leap Day, February 29, 1928. The New York Times wrote, “Miss Coolbrith is one of the real poets among the many poetic masqueraders in the volume.” She is buried in Mountain View Cemetery in Oakland. My fave. Her grave was unmarked until 1986 when the literary society The Ina Coolbrith Circle placed a headstone.

It was only upon Coolbrith's death that her literary friends discovered she had ever been a mother. Her poem, "The Mother's Grief", was a eulogy to a lost son, but she never publicly explained its meaning. Most people didn’t even know that she was a divorced woman. She didn’t talk about her marriage except through her poetry.

Ina Coolbrith Park was established in 1947 near her Russian Hill home, by the San Francisco parlors of the Native Daughters of the Golden Westmas. The park is known for its "meditative setting and spectacular bay views". The house she had built near Chinatown is still there, as is the house on Wheeler in Berkeley where she died. Byways in the Berkeley hills were named after Bret Harte, Charles Warren Stoddard, Mark Twain, and other literati in her circle but women were not initially included. In 2016, the name of a stairway in the hills that connects Grizzly Peak Boulevard and Miller Avenue in Berkeley was changed from Bret Harte Lane to Ina Coolbrith Path. At the bottom of the stairway, there is a plaque to commemorate Coolbrith. Her name is also commemorated at the 7,900 foot peak near Beckwourth Pass on Mount Ina Coolbrith in the Sierra Nevada mountains near State Route 70. In 2003, the City of Berkeley installed the Addison Street Poetry Walk, a series of 120 poem imprinted cast-iron plates flanking one block of a downtown street. A 55-pound plate bearing Coolbrith's poem "Copa De Oro (The California Poppy)" is raised porcelain enamel text, set into the sidewalk at the high-traffic northwest corner of Addison and Shattuck Avenues

Her life in California spanned the pioneer American occupation, the end of the Gold Rush, the end of the Rancho Era in Southern California, the arrival of the intercontinental train, and the first renaissance of the 19th century feminist movement. The American Civil War played no evident part in her consciousness but her life and her writing revealed acceptance of everyone from all classes and all races. Everyone whose life she touched wrote about her kindness. She wrote by hand, a hand painfully crippled by arthritis after she moved to the wetter climate of San Francisco. Her handwriting was crabbed as a result — full of strikeouts. She earned her own living and supported three children and her mother. She was the Sweet Singer of California, an American poet, writer, librarian, and a legend in the San Francisco Bay Area literary community, known as the pearl of our tribe.

Now this all leads me to wonder, what will your legacy be?

Queens of the Mines was created and produced by me, Andrea Anderson. You can support Queens of the Mines on Patreon or by purchasing the paperback Queens of the Mines. Available on Amazon. This season’s Theme Song is by This Lonesome Paradise. Find their music anywhere but you can Support the band by buying their music and merch at thislonesomeparadise@bandcamp.com

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