One day in the spring of 1868, while I was residing in New York City, I received a letter from Phineas Banning, accompanied by a sealed communication, and reading about as follows:
Dear Harris:
Herewith I enclose to you a letter of the greatest importance, addressed to Miss Mary Hollister (daughter, as you know, of Colonel John H. Hollister), who will soon be on her way to New York, and who may be expected to arrive there by the next steamer.
This letter I beg you to deliver to Miss Hollister personally, immediately upon her arrival in New York, thereby obliging
Yours obediently,
(Signed) Phineas Banning.
The steamer referred to had not yet arrived, and I lost no time in arranging that I should be informed, by the company's agents, of the vessel's approach, as soon as it was sighted. This notification came, by the by, through a telegram received before daylight one bitterly cold morning, when I was told that the ship would soon be at the dock; and as quickly as I could, I procured a carriage, hastened to the wharf and, before any passengers had landed, boarded the vessel. There I sought out Miss Hollister, a charming lady, and gave her the mysterious missive.
I thought no more of this matter until I returned to Los Angeles when, welcoming me back, Banning told me that the letter I had had the honor to deliver aboard ship in New York contained nothing less than a proposal of marriage, his solicitation of Miss Hollister's heart and hand!
One reason why the Bella Union played such an important rôle in the early days of Los Angeles, was because there was no such thing as a high-class restaurant; indeed, the first recollection I have of anything like a satisfactory place is that of Louis Vielle, known by some as French Louis and nicknamed by others Louis Gordo, or Louis the Fat. Vielle came to Los Angeles from Mexico, a fat, jolly little French caterer, not much over five feet in height and weighing, I should judge, two hundred and fifty pounds; and this great bulk, supported as it was by two peg-like legs, rendered his appearance truly comical. His blue eyes, light hair and very rosy cheeks accentuated his ludicrous figure. Louis, who must have been about fifty-four years of age when I first met him, then conducted his establishment in John Lanfranco's building on Main Street, between Commercial and Requena; from which fact the place was known as the Lanfranco, although it subsequently received the more suggestive title, the What Cheer House. Louis was an acknowledged expert in his art, but he did not always choose to exert himself. Nevertheless his lunches, for which he charged fifty or seventy-five cents, according to the number of dishes served, were well thought of, and it is certain that Los Angeles had never had so good a restaurant before. At one time, our caterer's partner was a man named Frederico Guiol, whom he later bought out. Louis could never master the English language, and to his last day spoke with a strong French accent. His florid cheeks were due to the enormous quantity of claret consumed both at and between meals. He would mix it with soup, dip his bread into it and otherwise absorb it in large quantities. Indeed, at the time of his fatal illness, while he was living with the family of Don Louis Sainsevain, it was assumed that over-indulgence in wine was the cause. Be that as it may, he sickened and died, passing away at the Lanfranco home in 1872. Vielle had prospered, but during his sickness he spent largely of his means. After his death, it was discovered that he had been in the habit of hiding his coin in little niches in the wall of his room and in other secret places; and only a small amount of the money was found. A few of the real pioneers recollect Louis Gordo as one who added somewhat to the comfort of those who then patronized restaurants; while others will associate him with the introduction here of the first French dolls, to take the place of rag-babies.
Both Judge Robert Maclay Widney and Dr. Joseph P. Widney, the surgeon, took up their residence in Los Angeles in 1868. R. M. Widney set out from Ohio about 1855 and, having spent two years in exploring the Rockies, worked for a while in the Sacramento Valley, where he chopped wood for a living, and finally reached Los Angeles with a small trunk and about a hundred dollars in cash. Here he opened a law and real-estate office and started printing the Real Estate Advertiser. Dr. Widney crossed the Continent in 1862, spent two years as surgeon in the United States Army in Arizona, after which he proceeded to Los Angeles and soon became one of the charter members of the Los Angeles Medical Society, exerting himself in particular to extend Southern California's climatic fame.
I have spoken of the ice procured from the San Bernardino mountains in rather early days, but I have not said that in summer, when we most needed the cooling commodity, there was none to be had. The enterprising firm of Queen & Gard, the first to arrange for regular shipments of Truckee River ice in large quantities by steamer from the North, announced their purpose late in March, 1868, of building an ice house on Main Street; and about the first of April they began delivering daily, in a large and substantial wagon especially constructed for that purpose and which, for the time being, was an object of much curiosity. Liberal support was given the enterprise; and perhaps it is no wonder that the perspiring editor of the News, going into ecstasies because of a cooling sample or two deposited in his office, said, in the next issue of his paper:
The founding of an ice depot is another step forward in the progress that is to make us a great City. We have Water and Gas, and now we are to have the additional luxury of Ice!
Banning's fight for the Los Angeles & San Pedro Railroad has been touched upon more than once. Tomlinson, his rival, opposed the project; but his sudden death, about two weeks before the election in 1868, removed one of the serious obstacles. When the vote was taken, on March 24th, as to whether the City and County should bond themselves to encourage the building of the railroad, seven hundred votes were cast in favor of, and six hundred and seventy-two votes against, the undertaking, leaving Banning and his associates ready to go ahead. By the way, as a reminder of the quondam vogue of Spanish here, it may be noted that the proclamation regarding the railroad, published in 1868, was printed in both English and Spanish.
On May 16th, Henry Hamilton, whose newspaper, the Star, during part of the War period had been suspended through the censorship of the National Government, again made his bow to the Los Angeles public, this time in a half-facetious leader in which he referred to the "late unpleasantness" in the family circle. Hamilton's old-time vigor was immediately recognized, but not his former disposition to attack and criticize.
Dr. H. S. Orme, once President of the State Board of Health of California, arrived in Los Angeles on July 4th and soon became as prominent in Masonic as in medical circles. Dr. Harmon, an early successor to Drs. Griffin and Den, first settled here in 1868, although he had previously visited California in 1853.
Carl Felix Heinzeman, at one time a well-known chemist and druggist, emigrated from Germany in 1868 and came direct to Los Angeles, where after succeeding J. B. Saunders & Company, he continued, in the Lanfranco Building, what grew to be the largest drug store south of San Francisco. Heinzeman died on April 29th, 1903. About the same period, a popular apothecary shop on Main Street, near the Plaza, was known as Chevalier's. In the seventies, when hygiene and sanitation were given more attention, a Welshman named Hughes conducted a steam-bath establishment on Main Street, almost opposite the Baker Block, and the first place of its kind in the city.
Charles F. Harper[29] of Mississippi, and the father of ex-Mayor Harper, in 1868 opened with R. H. Dalton a hardware store in the Allen Block, corner of Spring and Temple streets, thus forerunning Coulter & Harper, Harper & Moore, Harper, Reynolds & Company and the Harper-Reynolds Company.
Michel Lèvy, an Alsatian, arrived in San Francisco when but seventeen years of age, and after various experiences in California and Nevada towns, he came to Los Angeles in 1868, soon establishing, with Joe Coblentz, the wholesale liquor house of Lèvy & Coblentz. The latter left here in 1879, and Lèvy continued under the firm name of M. Lèvy & Company until his death in 1905.
Anastácio Cárdenas, a dwarf who weighed but one and a half pounds when born, came to Los Angeles in 1867 and soon appeared before the public as a singer and dancer. He carried a sword and was popularly dubbed "General." A brother, Ruperto, long lived here.
When the Canal & Reservoir Company was organized with George Hansen as President and J. J. Warner as Secretary, P. Beaudry contributed heavily to construct a twenty-foot dam across the cañon, below the present site of Echo Park, and a ditch leading down to Pearl Street. This first turned attention to the possibilities in the hill-lands to the West; and in return, the City gave to the company a large amount of land, popularly designated as canal and reservoir property.
In 1868, when there was still not a three-story house in Los Angeles, James Alvinza Hayward, a San Franciscan, joined John G. Downey in providing one hundred thousand dollars with which to open, in the old Downey Block on the site of the Temple adobe, the first bank in Los Angeles, under the firm name of Hayward & Company. The lack of business afforded this enterprise short shrift and they soon retired. In July of the same year, I. W. Hellman, William Workman, F. P. F. Temple and James R. Toberman started a bank, with a capital of one hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars, under the title of Hellman, Temple & Company, Hellman becoming manager.
I do not remember when postal lock-boxes were first brought into use, but I do recollect that in the late sixties Postmaster Clarke had a great deal of trouble collecting quarterly rents, and that he finally gave notice that boxes held by delinquents would thereafter be nailed up.
A year or two after the Burtons had established themselves here, came another pedagogue in the person of W. B. Lawlor, a thick-set, bearded man with a flushed complexion, who opened a day-school called the Lawlor Institute; and after the Burtons left here to settle at Portland, Oregon, where Burton became headmaster of an academy for advanced students, many of his former pupils attended Lawlor's school. The two institutions proved quite different in type: the Burton training had tended strongly to languages and literature, while Lawlor, who was an adept at short-cut methods of calculation, placed more stress on arithmetic and commercial education. Burton, who returned to Los Angeles, has been for years a leading member of the Times editorial staff, and Burton's Book on California and its Sunlit Skies is one of this author's contributions to Pacific Coast literature; his wife, however, died many years ago. Lawlor, who was President of the Common Council in 1880, is also dead.
The most popular piano-teacher of about that time was Professor Van Gilpin.
William Pridham came to Los Angeles in August, having been transferred from the San Francisco office of Wells Fargo & Company, in whose service as pony rider, clerk at Austin, Nevada, and at Sacramento, and cashier in the Northern metropolis he had been for some ten years. Here he succeeded Major J. R. Toberman, when the latter, after long service, resigned; and with a single office-boy, at one time little Joe Binford, he handled all the business committed to the company's charge. John Osborn was the outside expressman. Then most of the heavy express matter from San Francisco was carried by steamers, but letters and limited packages of moment were sent by stage. With the advent of railroads, Pridham was appointed by Wells Fargo & Company Superintendent of the Los Angeles district. On June 12th, 1880, he married Miss Mary Esther, daughter of Colonel John O. Wheeler, and later moved to Alameda. Now, after fifty-one years of association with the express business, Pridham still continues to be officially connected with the Wells Fargo company.
Speaking of that great organization, reminds me that it conducted for years a mail-carrying business. Three-cent stamped envelopes, imprinted with Wells Fargo & Company's name, were sold to their patrons for ten cents each; and to compensate for this bonus, the Company delivered the letters entrusted to them perhaps one to two hours sooner than did the Government.
This recalls to me a familiar experience on the arrival of the mail from the North. Before the inauguration of a stage-line, the best time in the transmission of mail matter between San Francisco and Los Angeles was made by water, and Wells Fargo messengers sailed with the steamers. Immediately upon the arrival of the boat at San Pedro, the messenger boarded the stage, and as soon as he reached Los Angeles, pressed on to the office of the Company, near the Bella Union, where he delivered his bagful of letters. The steamer generally got in by five o'clock in the morning; and many a time, about seven, have I climbed Signal or Pound Cake Hill—higher in those days than now, and affording in clear weather a view of both ocean and the smoke of the steamer—upon whose summit stood a house, used as a signal station, and there watched for the rival stages, the approach of which was indicated by clouds of dust. I would then hurry with many others to the Express Company's office where, as soon as the bag was emptied, we would all help ourselves unceremoniously to the mail.
In August, General Edward Bouton, a Northern Army officer, came to Los Angeles and soon had a sheep ranch on Boyle Heights—a section then containing but two houses; and two years later he camped where Whittier now lies. In 1874, he bought land for pasture in the San Jacinto Valley, and for years owned the ocean front at Alamitos Bay from Devil's Gate to the Inlet, boring artesian wells there north of Long Beach.
Louis Robidoux, who had continued to prosper as a ranchero, died in 1868 at the age of seventy-seven years.
With the usual flourish of spades, if not of trumpets, ground was broken for the Los Angeles & San Pedro Railroad at Wilmington on September 19th, and toward the end of November, the rails had been laid about a mile out from Wilmington.
The last contract for carrying the Overland Mail was given to Wells Fargo & Company on October 1st and pledged a round remuneration of one million, seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars per annum, while it also permitted passengers and freight to be transported; but the Company came to have a great deal of competition. Phineas Banning, for example, had a stage-line between Los Angeles and Yuma, in addition to which mail and passengers were carried in buckboards, large wagons and jerkies. Moreover there was another stage-line between Tucson and El Paso, and rival stage-lines between El Paso and St. Louis; and in consequence, the Butterfield service was finally abandoned.
This American vehicle, by the by, the jerky, was so named for the very good reason that, as the wagon was built without springs, it jerked the rider around unmercifully. Boards were laid across the wagon-box or bed for seats, accommodating four passengers; and some space was provided in the back for baggage. To maintain one's position in the bumping, squeaking vehicle at all, was difficult; while to keep one's place on the seat approached the impossible.
Of the various Los Angeles roadways in 1868, West Sixth Street was most important in its relation to travel. Along this highway the daily Overland stages entered and departed from the city; and by this route came all the Havilah, Lone Pine, Soledad and Owens River trade, as well as that of the Ballona and Ciénega districts. Sixth Street also led to the Fair Grounds, and over its none too even surface dashed most of the sports and gallants on their way to the race course.
I have said that I returned to New York, in 1867, presumably for permanent residence. Soon after I left Los Angeles, however, Samuel Cohn became desperately ill, and the sole management of H. Newmark & Company suddenly devolved on Sam's brother Kaspare. This condition of affairs grew so bad that my return to Los Angeles became imperative. Accordingly, leaving my family, I took passage on October 31st, 1868, for San Francisco, and returned to Los Angeles without delay. Then I wired my wife to start with the children for the Coast, and to have the furniture, including a Chickering grand piano, just purchased, shipped after them; and when they arrived, we once more took possession of the good old adobe on Main Street, where we lived contentedly until 1874. This piano, by the way, which came by freight around Cape Horn, was one of the first instruments of the kind seen here, John Schumacher having previously bought one. While we were living in New York, Edward J. Newmark, my wife's brother, died here on February 17th, 1868.
Before I left for New York, hardly anything had been done, in subdividing property, save perhaps by the Lugos and Downey, and at Anaheim and Wilmington. During the time that I was away, however, newspapers and letters from home indicated the changes going on here; and I recall what an impression all this made upon me. On my way down from San Francisco on Captain Johnson's Orizaba in December—about the same time that the now familiar locomotive San Gabriel reached Wilmington—land-agents were active and people were talking a great deal about these subdivisions; and by the time I reached Los Angeles I, too, was considerably stirred up over the innovations and as soon as possible after my return hastened out to see the change. The improvements were quite noticeable, and among other alterations surprising me were the houses people had begun to build on the approaches to the western hills. I was also to learn that there was a general demand for property all over the city, Colonel Charles H. Larrabee, City Attorney in 1868, especially having bought several hundred feet on Spring and Fort streets. Later, I heard of the experiences of other Angeleños aboard ship who were deluged with circulars advertising prospective towns.
To show the provincial character of Los Angeles fifty years ago, I will add an anecdote or two. While I was in New York, members of my family reported by letter, as a matter of extraordinary interest, the novelty of a silver name-plate on a neighboring front door; and when I was taken to inspect it, a year later, I saw the legend, still novel:
Mr. and Mrs. Eugene Meyer
In the metropolis I had found finger-bowls in common use, and having brought back with me such a supply as my family would be likely to need, I discovered that it had actually fallen to my lot to introduce these desirable conveniences into Los Angeles.
William Ferguson was an arrival of 1868, having come to settle up the business of a brother and remaining to open a livery stable on North Main Street near the Plaza, which he conducted for ten years. Investing in water company stock, Ferguson abandoned his stable to make water-pipes, a couple of years later, perhaps, than J. F. Holbrook had entered the same field. Success enabled Ferguson to build a home at 303 South Hill Street, where he found himself the only resident south of Third.
This manufacture here of water pipe recalls a cordial acquaintance with William Lacy, Sr., an Englishman, who was interested with William Rowland in developing the Puente oil fields. His sons, William, Jr., and Richard H., originators of the Lacy Manufacturing Company, began making pipe and tanks a quarter of a century ago.
C. R. Rinaldi started a furniture business here in 1868, opening his store almost opposite the Stearns's home on North Main Street. Before long he disposed of an interest to Charles Dotter, and then, I think, sold out to I. W. Lord and moved to the neighborhood of the San Fernando Mission. About the same time, Sidney Lacey, who arrived in 1870 and was a popular clerk with the pioneer carpet and wall-paper house of Smith & Walter, commenced what was to be a long association with this establishment. In 1876, C. H. Bradley bought out Lord, and the firm of Dotter & Bradley, so well known to householders of forty years ago, came into existence. In 1884, H. H. Markham (soon to be Congressman and then Governor of the State), with General E. P. Johnson bought this concern and organized the Los Angeles Furniture Company, whose affairs since 1910, (when her husband died), have been conducted by the President, Mrs. Katherine Fredericks.
Conrad Hafen, a German-Swiss, reached Los Angeles in December, 1868, driving a six-horse team and battered wagon with which he had braved the privations of Death Valley; and soon he rented a little vineyard, two years later buying for the same purpose considerable acreage on what is now Central Avenue. Rewarded for his husbandry with some affluence, Hafen built both the old Hafen House and the new on South Hill Street, once a favorite resort for German arrivals. He retired in 1905.
It was early in 1869 that I was walking down Spring Street one day and saw a crowd at the City Hall. On a large box stood Mayor Joel H. Turner, and just as I arrived a man leaning against the adobe wall called out, "Seven dollars!" The Mayor then announced the bid—for an auction was in progress—"Seven dollars once, seven dollars twice, seven dollars three times!" and as he raised his hand to conclude the sale, I called out, "A half!" This I did in a spirit of fun; in fact, I did not even know what was being offered! "Seven dollars fifty once, seven dollars fifty twice, seven dollars fifty three times, and sold—to Harris Newmark!" called the Mayor. I then inquired what I had bought, and was shown the location of about twenty acres, a part of nine hundred being sold by the City at prices ranging from five to ten dollars an acre.
The piece purchased was west of the city limits, and I kept it until 1886 when I had almost forgotten that I was the owner. Then George Williamson, one of the first salesmen of H. Newmark & Company, who became a boomer of the period, bought it from me for ten thousand dollars and resold it within two weeks for fourteen thousand, the Sunset Oil Company starting there, as the land was within what was known as the oil district. Since the opening of streets in all directions, I have lost trace of this land, but incline to the belief that it lies in the immediate vicinity of the Wilshire district.
My experience reminds me of Colonel John O. Wheeler's investment in fifty or sixty acres at what is now Figueroa and Adams streets. Later, going to San Francisco as a Customs officer, he forgot about his purchase until one day he received a somewhat surprising offer.
On January 1st, A. J. King and R. H. Offutt began to publish a daily edition of the News, hitherto a semi-weekly, making it strongly Democratic. There was no Sunday issue and twelve dollars was the subscription. On October 16th, Offutt sold his interest to Alonzo Waite, and the firm became King & Waite. In another year King had retired.
How modest was the status of the Post Office in 1869 may be gathered from the fact that the Postmaster had only one assistant, a boy, both together receiving fourteen hundred dollars in greenbacks, worth but a thousand dollars in gold.
Henry Hammel, for years connected with the Bella Union, and a partner named Bremerman leased the United States Hotel on February 1st from Louis Mesmer; and in March, John King succeeded Winston & King as manager of the Bella Union. King died in December, 1871.
In the winter of 1868-69, when heavy rains seriously interfered with bringing in the small supply of lumber at San Pedro, a coöperative society was proposed, to insure the importation each summer of enough supplies to tide the community over during the wintry weather. Over one hundred persons, it was then estimated, had abandoned building, and many others were waiting for material to complete fences and repairs.
Thanks to Contractor H. B. Tichenor's vigor in constructing the Los Angeles & San Pedro Railroad, public interest in the venture, by the beginning of 1869, had materially increased. In January, a vessel arrived with a locomotive and a steam pile-driver; and a few days later a schooner sailed into San Pedro with ties, sleepers and rails enough for three miles of the track. Soon, also, the locomotive was running part of the way. The wet winter made muddy roads, and this led to the proposal to lay the tracks some eight or ten miles in the direction of Los Angeles, and there to transfer the freight to wagons.
Stearns Hall and the Plaza were amusement places in 1869. At the latter, in January, the so-called Paris Exposition Circus held forth; while Joe Murphy and Maggie Moore, who had just favored the passengers on the Orizaba, on coming south from San Francisco, with a show, trod the hall's more classic boards.
Ice a quarter of an inch thick was formed here for several days during the third week in January, and butchers found it so difficult to secure fat cattle that good beef advanced to sixteen and a quarter cents a pound.
On January 20th, I purchased from Eugene Meyer the southern half of lots three and four in block five, fronting on Fort Street between Second and Third, formerly owned by William Buffum and J. F. Burns. Meyer had paid one thousand dollars for one hundred and twenty feet front and three hundred and thirty feet depth; and when I bought half of this piece for one thousand dollars, it was generally admitted that I had paid all that it was worth.
Isaac Lankershim—father of J. B. Lankershim and Mrs. I. N. Van Nuys—who first visited California in 1854, came from San Francisco in 1869 and bought, for one hundred and fifteen thousand dollars, part of Andrés Pico's San Fernando rancho, which he stocked with sheep. Levi Strauss & Company, Scholle Brothers, L. and M. Sachs & Company of San Francisco and others, were interested in this partnership, then known as the San Fernando Farm Association; but Lankershim was in control until about one year later, when Isaac Newton Van Nuys arrived from Monticello, where he had been merchandising, and was put permanently in charge of the ranch. At this period Lankershim lived there, for he had not yet undertaken milling in Los Angeles. A little later, Lankershim and Van Nuys successfully engaged in the raising of wheat, cultivating nearly sixty thousand acres, and consigning some of their harvests to Liverpool. This fact recalls a heavy loss in the spring of 1881, when the Parisian, which left Wilmington under Captain Reaume, foundered at sea with nearly two hundred and fifty tons of wheat and about seventy-five tons of flour belonging to them.
J. B. Lankershim, owner of the well-known hotel bearing his name, after the death of his father made some very important investments in Los Angeles real estate, including the northwest corner of Broadway and Seventh Street, now occupied by the building devoted to Bullock's department store.
M. N. Newmark, a nephew of mine and President of the Newmark Grain Company, arrived in 1869, and clerked for H. Newmark & Company until 1871, in which year he established a partnership with S. Grand in Compton, selling general merchandise. This partnership lasted until 1878, when Newmark bought out Grand. He finally disposed of the business in 1889 and, with D. K. Edwards, organized the firm of Newmark & Edwards. In 1895 Edwards sold out his interest.
Victor Ponet, a native of Belgium, and once Belgian Consul here, while traveling around the world, landed in California in 1867 and two years later came to Los Angeles. Attracted by the climate and Southern California's possible future, Ponet settled here, engaging first in the pioneer manufacture and importation of mirrors and picture frames; and before his retirement to live in Sherman, he had had experience both as undertaker and banker.[30]
In 1869, General W. S. Rosecrans came south in the interest of the proposed San Diego & Gila Railroad, never constructed. The General, as a result, took up land around Sausal Redondo, and there by the summer of 1869 so many people (who insisted that Rosecrans had appropriated public land) had squatted, that he was put to no end of trouble in ejecting them.
Though I have witnessed most of the progress in Southern California, it is still difficult to realize that so much could have been accomplished within the life-time of one man. During 1868-69 only twenty-two hundred boxes of oranges were shipped from Los Angeles, while the Southern counties' crop of oranges and lemons for 1913-14 is estimated, I am told, at about twelve million boxes!
Due to the eight-day shindy marking the celebration of the Chinese New Year, demand for a more concentrated rumpus was voiced in February, 1869, threatening an agitation against John Chinaman.
The same month, residents, wishing a school in which German should be taught, and a gymnasium, petitioned the Common Council to acquire a lot in New High Street for the purpose.
About 1869, the Los Angeles Social Club which, to the best of my recollection, was the first of its kind in the city, was organized, with headquarters in the earliest building erected by I. W. Hellman, at the northwest corner of Los Angeles and Commercial streets. Among other pioneer members were Captain Cameron E. Thom, Tom Mott, Eugene Meyer, Sam and Charles Prager, Tom Rowan, I. W. and H. W. Hellman, S. Lazard, W. J. Brodrick, John Jones, Kaspare Cohn, A. C. Chauvin, M. and J. L. Morris, Leon Loeb, Sam Meyer, Dr. F. A. McDougal, B. Cohn and myself. Somewhat later, the Club moved to the east side of Los Angeles Street, between Commercial and Aliso. Still later, it dissolved; and although it did not become the direct ancestor of any of the several well-known social organizations in the Los Angeles of to-day, I feel that it should be mentioned as having had the honor of being their precursor and model.
Speaking of social organizations, I may say that several Los Angeles clubs were organized in the early era of sympathy, tolerance and good feeling, when the individual was appreciated at his true worth and before the advent of men whose bigotry has sown intolerance and discord, and has made a mockery of both religion and professed ideals.
It must have been early in the sixties that Alexander Bell sold the southern end of his property to H. Heinsch, the saddler. On February 23d, 1869, the directors of the San Pedro Railroad selected the Mike Madigan lot on Alameda Street, on a part of which the owner was conducting a livery-stable, as the site for the depot in Los Angeles; and Heinsch having allowed the authorities to cut through his property, the extension of Commercial and Requena streets eastward from Los Angeles to Alameda was hastened.
Late on February 14th, the news was circulated of a shocking tragedy in the billiard saloon of the Lafayette Hotel, and at once aroused intense regret, affecting, as the affair did, the standing and happiness of two well-known Los Angeles families. About eight o'clock, Charles Howard, a young lawyer of prominence and a son of Volney E. Howard, met Daniel B. Nichols, son of the ex-Mayor; and some dispute between them having reached its climax, both parties drew weapons and fired. Howard was killed and Nichols wounded, though not fatally, as was at first thought. The tragedy—the cause of which was never generally known—made a profound impression.
The work of extending water mains along Fort, Spring and other streets progressed steadily until the Los Angeles Water Company struck a snag which again demonstrated the city's dependence. Difficulty in coupling pipes called a halt, and the management had to send all the way to San Francisco for a complete set of plumbers' tools!
In the spring, Tileston, Emery & Company, a Los Angeles and San Gabriel firm, brought south the first steam separator seen here and took contracts to thrash the farmers' grain. On June 3d they started the machine, and many persons went out to see it work. Among features pointed out were precautions against fire from the engine, which the contractors declared made "everything perfectly safe."
From its inception, Wilmington sought, in one way or another, to rival Los Angeles, and in April threw down the gauntlet. A. A. Polhamus, a workshop engineer of the Los Angeles & San Pedro Railroad, (in 1887, a manufacturer of straw wrapping paper somewhere between here and Wilmington,) had built a velocipede; and no sooner was it noised about than John Goller set to work to eclipse the achievement. About one o'clock, therefore, on April 25th one of Goller's apprentices suddenly appeared ready to make the first experiment. The streets were soon crowded and interest was at fever heat. The young fellow straddled the wheels, moved about half a block, and then, at the junction of Main and Spring streets, executed a first-class somersault! Immediately, however, other intrepid ones tried their skill, and the velocipede was voted a successful institution of our young and progressive city.
By the first week in May, the velocipede craze had spread, crowds congregating daily on Main Street to see the antics of the boys; and soon H. F. Laurence announced the opening in Stearns's Hall, on May 14th, of a Velocipede School, where free instruction would be given: afternoons to ladies and evenings to men; and to further stimulate interest, Laurence announced a raffle on May 15th of "a splendid velocipede." By May 22d, J. Eastman had obtained permission of the Common Council to build a velocipede track on the historic old Plaza; but evidently he did not make use of the privilege, for a newspaper writer was soon giving vent to the following sarcasm:
Our City Fathers tried to make a little coin by leasing the Plaza as a velocipede circle or square; but, so far, the velocipedist has failed to connect. I dare say the cost of cleaning up the place of weeds backed the poor soul out!
It happened in 1869 that Judson, the financier, and Belshaw, a practical miner, began working their lead mines in Cerro Gordo, in the Owens River country; and as the handling of the ore necessitated a great many wagons, Remi Nadeau obtained the contract for the transportation of the ore brought down to Wilmington and then shipped by boat to San Francisco. Remi had returned here about 1866, after having been in San Francisco for four or five years; and eventually he built the Nadeau Hotel at the corner of Spring and First streets, where A. Bouelle, father of Frank A. Bouelle, had formerly kept a little grocery store in an adobe. This ore was loaded on to very large wagons, each drawn on level stretches by twelve or fourteen mules, but requiring as many as twenty or more mules while crossing the San Fernando Mountains—always regarded as one of the worst places on the route. In order not to return with empty wagons, Nadeau purchased supplies of every description, which he sold to people along the route; and in this way he obtained the best financial results. This was about the same time that Victor Beaudry (Prudent's brother, who came in 1855, to mine at San Gabriel) opened a store at Camp Independence, Inyo County, and became a stockholder in the Cerro Gordo mines. In the early eighties, Beaudry was interested with his brother in local real estate movements. He died in Montreal in 1888.
After a time, the mines yielded so much ore that Nadeau found himself short of transportation facilities; but with the assistance of Judson & Belshaw, as well as H. Newmark & Company, he was enabled to increase his capacity until he operated thirty-two teams. Los Angeles was then the southern terminus of his operations, although, during the building of the numerous Southern Pacific tunnels, his headquarters were removed to San Fernando, and still later, on the completion of the railroad, to Mojave. Nadeau's assistant, Willard G. Halstead, son-in-law of H. K. W. Bent, handled most of the business when Nadeau was absent; A. E. Lott was foreman of teams and continually rode up and down the line of operations; while Thomas O'Brien was station-agent at Cerro Gordo. The contract had been very profitable to Judson & Belshaw; yet when the agreement expired on January 1st, 1872, they wished to renew it at a lower figure. Nadeau, believing that no one else could do the work satisfactorily, refused the new terms offered; whereupon Judson & Belshaw entered into an arrangement with William Osborn, a liveryman, who owned a few teams.
The season of 1871-72 was by no means a good one and barley was high, involving a great expense to Nadeau in feeding four or five hundred animals; and right there arose his chief difficulty. He was in debt to H. Newmark & Company and therefore proposed that he should turn his outfit over to us; but as we had unlimited confidence both in his integrity and in his ability, we prevailed on him to keep and use his equipment to the best advantage. The suggestion was a fortunate one, for just at this time large deposits of borax were discovered in the mountains at Wordsworth, Nevada, and Nadeau commenced operations there with every promise of success. In his work of hauling between Cerro Gordo and Los Angeles, Nadeau had always been very regular, his teams with rare exceptions arriving and leaving on schedule time; and even when, occasionally, a wagon did break down, the pig-lead would be unloaded without delay, tossed to the side of the trail and left there for the next train; a method that was perfectly safe, since thieves never disturbed the property. Osborn, on the other hand, soon proved uncertain and unreliable, his wagons frequently breaking down and causing other accidents and delays. To protect themselves, Judson & Belshaw were compelled to terminate their contract with him and reopen negotiations with Nadeau; but the latter then rejected their advances unless they would buy a half-interest in his undertaking and put up one hundred and fifty thousand dollars for the construction and maintenance of the numerous stations that had become necessary for the proper development of his business. Nadeau also made it a condition that H. Newmark & Company be paid. The stations already constructed or proposed were Mud Springs, Lang's Station, Mojave, Red Rock, Panamint, Indian Wells, Little Lake, Haiwee Meadows and Cartago. Before these were built, the teamsters camped in the open, carrying with them the provisions necessary for man and beast. Cartago was on the south side of Owens Lake, Cerro Gordo being on the north side, eighteen miles opposite; and between these points the miniature side-wheeler Bessie, of but twenty tons capacity, operated.
An interesting fact or two in connection with Owens Lake may be recorded here. Its water was so impregnated with borax and soda that no animal life could be sustained. In the winter, the myriads of wild duck were worth talking about; but after they had remained near the lake for but a few days, they were absolutely unpalatable. The teamsters and miners operating in the vicinity were in the habit of sousing their clothes in the lake for a few minutes, and when dried, the garments were found to be as clean as if they had passed through the most perfect laundry. Even a handful of the water applied to the hair would produce a magnificent lather and shampoo.
Judson & Belshaw were compelled to accept Nadeau's terms; and Nadeau returned from Nevada, organized in 1873 the Cerro Gordo Freighting Company, and operated more extensively than ever before until he withdrew, perhaps five years after the completion of the Southern Pacific Railroad and just before the petering out of the Cerro Gordo Mines. In their palmy days, these deposits were the most extensive lead-producers of California; and while the output might not have been so remarkable in comparison with those of other lead mines in the world, something like eighty-five to ninety bars, each weighing about one hundred pounds, were produced there daily. Most of this was shipped, as I have said, to San Francisco; and for a while, at least, from there to Swansea, Wales.
Nadeau at one time was engaged in the industry of raising sugar-beets at the Nadeau rancho, near Florence, now Nadeau Station; and then he attempted to refine sugar. But it was bad at best, and the more sugar one put in coffee, the blacker the coffee became.
On April 24th, 1869, under Mayor Joel Turner's administration, the Los Angeles Board of Education came into existence.
In the early sixties, the City authorities promised to set out trees at the Plaza, providing neighboring property-owners would fence in the place; but even though Governor Downey supplied the fence, no trees were planted, and it was not until the spring of 1869 that any grew on the public square. This loud demand for trees was less for the sake of the usual benefits than to hide the ugliness of the old water tank.
On May 9th, F. G. Walther issued the first number of the Los Angeles Chronik, a German weekly journal that survived scarcely three months.
The tenth of May was another red-letter day for the Pacific Coast, rejoicing, as it did, in the completion of the Central Pacific at Promontory Point in Utah. There, with a silver hammer, Governor Stanford drove the historic gold spike into a tie of polished California laurel, thus consummating the vast work on the first trans-continental railroad. This event recalls the fact that, in the railway's construction, Chinese labor was extensively employed, and that in 1869 large numbers of the dead bodies of Celestials were gathered up and shipped to Sacramento for burial.
William J. Brodrick, after wandering in Peru and Chile, came to Los Angeles in 1869 and started as a stationer; then he opened an insurance office, and still later became interested in the Main Street Railway and the water company. On May 8th, 1877, Brodrick married Miss Laura E., daughter of Robert S. Carlisle. On October 18th, 1898, Brodrick died, having been identified with many important activities.
Hacks and omnibuses first came into use in 1869. Toward the end of May of that year, J. J. Reynolds, who had long been popular as a driver between Los Angeles and Wilmington, purchased a hack and started in business for himself, appealing to his "reputation for good driving and reliability" as a reasonable assurance that he would bring his patrons right side up to their scattered homes; and so much was he in demand, both in the city and its suburbs, that a competitor, J. Hewitt, in the latter part of June ordered a similar hack to come by steamer. It arrived in due time and was chronicled as a "luxurious vehicle." Hewitt regularly took up his stand in the morning in front of the Lafayette Hotel; and he also had an order slate at George Butler's livery-stable on Main Street.
During the sixties, Dr. T. H. Rose, who had relinquished the practice of medicine for the career of a pedagogue, commenced work as Principal of the Boys' Grammar School on Bath Street, and in 1869 was elected Superintendent of City Schools. He held this office but about a year, although he did not resign from educational work here until 1873. During his incumbency, he was Vice-Principal of the first Teachers' Institute ever held here, contributing largely toward the founding of the first high school and the general development of the schools prior to the time when Dr. Lucky, the first really professional teacher, assumed charge. On leaving Los Angeles, Dr. Rose became Principal of the school at Healdsburg, Sonoma County, where he married a Mrs. Jewell, the widow of an old-time, wealthy miner; but he was too sensitive and proud to live on her income and, much against her wishes, insisted on teaching to support himself. In 1874, he took charge of the high school at Petaluma, where the family of Mrs. Rose's first husband had lived; and the relationship of the two families probably led to Rose and his wife separating. Later, Dr. Rose went to the Sandwich Islands to teach, but by 1883, shortly before he died, he was back in Los Angeles, broken in health and spirit. Dr. Rose was an excellent teacher, a strict disciplinarian and a gentleman.
The retirement of Dr. Rose calls to mind a couple of years during which Los Angeles had no City School Superintendent. While Rose was Principal, a woman was in charge of the girls' department; and the relations between the schoolmaster and the schoolmistress were none too friendly. When Dr. Rose became Superintendent, the schoolma'am instantly disapproved of the choice and rebelled; and there being no law which authorized the governing of Los Angeles schools in any other manner than by trustees, the new Superintendent had no authority over his female colleague. The office of Superintendent of City Schools, consequently, remained vacant until 1873.
Dr. James S. Crawford had the honor, as far as I am aware, of being one of the first regular dentists to locate in Los Angeles. As an itinerant he had passed the winters of 1863, 1864 and 1865 in this city, afterward going east; and on his return to California in 1869 he settled in the Downey Block at Spring and Main streets, where he practiced until, on April 14th, 1912, he died in a Ventura County camp.
In 1864, the California Legislature, wishing to encourage the silk industry, offered a bounty of two hundred and fifty dollars for every plantation of five thousand mulberry trees of two years' growth, and a bounty of three hundred dollars for each one hundred thousand salable cocoons; and in three years an enormous number of mulberry trees, in various stages of growth, was registered. Prominent among silk-growers was Louis Prévost, who rather early had established here an extensive mulberry-tree nursery and near it a large cocoonery for the rearing of silk worms; and had planned, in 1869, the creation of a colony of silk-worms whose products would rival even those of his native belle France. The California Silk Center Association of Los Angeles was soon formed, and four thousand acres of the rancho once belonging to Juan Bandini, fourteen hundred and sixty acres of the Hartshorn Tract and three thousand one hundred and sixty-nine acres of the Jurupa, on the east side of the Santa Ana River, were purchased. That was in June or July; but on August 16th, in the midst of a dry season, Louis Prévost died, and the movement received a serious setback. To add to the reverses, the demand for silk-worm eggs fell off amazingly; while finally, to give the enterprise its death-blow, the Legislators, fearful that the State Treasury would be depleted through the payment of bounties, withdrew all State aid.
The Silk Center Association, therefore, failed; but the Southern California Colony Association bought all the land, paying for it something like three dollars and a half an acre. To many persons, the price was quite enough: old Louis Robidoux had long refused to list his portion for taxes, and some one had described much of the acreage as so dry that even coyotes, in crossing, took along their canteens for safety! A town called at first Jurupa, and later Riverside, was laid out; a fifty thousand-dollar ditch diverted the Santa Ana River to a place where Nature had failed to arrange for its flowing; and in a few months a number of families had settled beside the artificial waterway. Riversiders long had to travel back and forth to Los Angeles for most of their supplies (a stage, still in existence, being used by ordinary passengers), and this made a friendly as well as profitable business relation with the older and larger town; but experiments soon showing that oranges could grow in the arid soil, Riverside in course of time had something to sell as well as to buy.
Who was more familiar both to the youth of the town and to grown-ups than Nicolás Martinez, in summer the purveyor of cooling ice cream, in winter the vender of hot tamales! From morning till night, month in and month out during the sixties and seventies, Martinez paced the streets, his dark skin made still swarthier in contrast to his white costume—a shirt, scarcely tidy, together with pantaloons none too symmetrical and hanging down in generous folds at the waist. On his head, in true native fashion, he balanced in a small hooped tub what he had for sale; he spoke with a pronounced Latin accent, and his favorite method of announcing his presence was to bawl out his wares. The same receptacle, resting upon a round board with an opening to ease the load and covered with a bunch of cloths, served both to keep the tamales hot and the ice cream cool; while to dispense the latter, he carried in one hand a circular iron tray, in which were holes to accommodate three or four glasses. Further, for the convenience of the exacting youth of the town, he added a spoon to each cream-filled glass; and what stray speck of the ice was left on the spoon after the youngster had given it a parting lick, Nicolás, bawling anew to attract the next customer, fastidiously removed with his tobacco-stained fingers!
The Los Angeles & San Pedro Railroad continued in 1869 to be the local theme of most importance, although its construction did not go on as rapidly as had been promised. The site for a depot, it is true, had been selected; but by June 14th, only six miles were finished. Farmers were loud in complaints that they had been heavily taxed, and in demanding that the road be rushed to completion, in order to handle the prospectively-large grain crop. Additional gangs were therefore employed, and by the twentieth of July, seven more miles of track had been laid. In the meantime, the Sunday School at Compton enjoyed the first excursion, the members making themselves comfortable on benches and straw in some freight cars.
As the work on the railroad progressed, stages, in addition to those regularly running through from Los Angeles to Wilmington, began connecting with the trains at the temporary terminus of the railroad. People went down to Wilmington to see the operations, not merely on the track, but in the machine shops where the cars for freight, express, baggage, smoking and passenger service (designed by A. A. Polhamus, the machinist) were being built under the superintendence of Samuel Atkinson, who had been brought West by the San Francisco & San José Valley Railroad, because of a reputation for railroad experience enjoyed by few, if by any other persons on the Coast. The Company also had a planing mill and wheelwright shop under the charge of George W. Oden.
By the first of August, both the railroad and connecting stages were advertising Sunday excursions to the beach, emphasizing the chance to travel part of the way by the new means of transit. Curiously, however, visitors were allowed to enjoy the sea-breezes but a short time: arriving at Wilmington about ten or half-past, they were compelled to start back for Los Angeles by four in the afternoon. Many resorters still patronized the old service; and frequently the regular stages, racing all the way up from the steamer, would actually reach the city half an hour earlier than those transferring the passengers from the railway terminus which was extended by August 1st to a point within four miles of town.
When eighteen miles had been finished, it was reported that General Stoneman and his post band would make an excursion on the first train, accompanied by General Banning and leading citizens of the town; but strong opposition to the Company laying its tracks through the center of "The Lane," now Alameda Street, having developed, the work was stopped by injunction. The road had been constructed to a point opposite the old Wolfskill home, then "far from town," and until the matter was settled, passengers and freight were unloaded there.
Great excitement prevailed here shortly after sundown on Wednesday evening, August 21st, when the mail-stage which had left for Gilroy but a short time before came tearing back to town, the seven or eight passengers excitedly shouting that they had been robbed. The stage had proceeded but two miles from Los Angeles when four masked highwaymen stepped into the road and ordered, "Hands up!" Among the passengers was the well-known and popular Ben Truman who, having learned by previous experience just what to do in such a ticklish emergency and "being persuaded that the two barrels of cold steel had somewhat the proportions of a railway tunnel," sadly but promptly unrolled one hundred and eighty dollars in bills, and quite as sadly deposited, in addition, his favorite chronometer. The highwayman picked up the watch, looked it over, shook his head and, thanking Ben, returned it, expressing the hope that, whatever adversity might overwhelm him, he should never be discovered with such a timepiece! All in all, the robbers secured nearly two thousand dollars; but, strange to relate, they overlooked the treasure in the Wells Fargo chest, as well as several hundred dollars in greenbacks belonging to the Government. Sheriff J. F. Burns and Deputy H. C. Wiley pursued and captured the robbers; and within about a week they were sent to the Penitentiary.
On the same evening, at high tide, the little steamer christened Los Angeles and constructed by P. Banning & Company to run from the wharf to the outside anchorage, was committed to the waters, bon-fires illuminating quite distinctly both guests and the neighboring landscape, and lending to the scene a weird and charming effect.
In a previous chapter I have given an account of Lady Franklin's visit to San Pedro and Los Angeles, and of the attention shown her. Her presence awakened new interest in the search for her lamented husband, and paved the way for the sympathetic reception of any intelligence likely to clear up the mystery. No little excitement, therefore, was occasioned eight years later by the finding of a document at San Buenaventura that seemed "like a voice from the dead." According to the story told, as James Daly (of the lumber firm of Daly & Rodgers) was walking on the beach on August 30th, he found a sheet of paper a foot square, much mutilated but bearing, in five or six different languages, a still legible request to forward the memoranda to the nearest British Consul or the Admiralty at London. Every square inch of the paper was covered with data relating to Sir John Franklin and his party, concluding with the definite statement that Franklin had died on June 11th, 1847. Having been found within a week of the time that the remnant of Dr. Hall's party, which went in search of the explorer, had arrived home in Connecticut with the announcement that they had discovered seven skeletons of Franklin's men, this document, washed up on the Pacific Coast, excited much comment; but I am unable to say whether it was ever accepted by competent judges as having been written by Franklin's associates.
In 1869, the long-familiar adobe of José António Carrillo was razed to make way for what, for many years, was the leading hotel of Los Angeles. This was the Pico House, in its decline known as the National Hotel, which, when erected on Main Street opposite the Plaza at a cost of nearly fifty thousand dollars, but emphasized in its contrasting showiness the ugliness of the neglected square. Some thirty-five thousand dollars were spent in furnishing the eighty-odd rooms, and no little splurge was made that guests could there enjoy the luxuries of both gas and baths! In its palmy days, the Pico House welcomed from time to time travelers of wide distinction; while many a pioneer, among them not a few newly-wedded couples now permanently identified with Los Angeles or the Southland, look back to the hostelry as the one surviving building fondly associated with the olden days. Charles Knowlton was an early manager; and he was succeeded by Dunham & Schieffelin.
Competition in the blacking of boots enlivened the fall, the Hotel Lafayette putting boldly in printer's ink the question, "Do You Want to Have Your Boots Blacked in a Cool, Private Place?" This challenge was answered with the following proclamation: