Brickmaking had become, by September, quite an important industry. Joe Mullally, whose brickyard was near the Jewish Cemetery, then had two kilns with a capacity of two hundred and twenty-five thousand; and in the following month he made over five hundred thousand brick.

In course of time, the Los Angeles & San Pedro Railroad was completed to the Madigan lot, which remained for several years the Los Angeles terminus; and justly confident that the difficulty with the authorities would be removed, the Company pushed work on their depot and put in a turn-table at the foot of New Commercial Street. There was but one diminutive locomotive, though a larger one was on its way around the Horn from the East and still another was coming by the Continental Railway; and every few days the little engine would go out of commission, so that traffic was constantly interrupted. At such times, confidence in the enterprise was somewhat shaken; but new rolling stock served to reassure the public. A brightly-painted smoking-car, with seats mounted on springs, was soon the "talk of the town."

I have spoken of J. J. Reynolds's early enterprise and the competition that he evoked. Toward the end of July, he went up to San Francisco and outdid Hewitt by purchasing a handsome omnibus, suitable for hotel service and also adapted to the needs of families or individuals clubbing together for picnics and excursions. This gave the first impetus to the use of hotel 'buses, and by the first Sunday in September, when the cars from Wilmington rolled in bringing passengers from the steamer Orizaba, the travelers were met by omnibuses and coaches from all three hotels, the Bella Union, the United States and the Lafayette; the number of vehicles, public and private, giving the streets around the railroad depot a very lively appearance.

Judge W. G. Dryden, so long a unique figure here, died on September 10th and A. J. King succeeded him as County Judge.

A notable visit to Los Angeles was that of Secretary William H. Seward who, in 1869, made a trip across the Continent, going as far north as Alaska and as far south as Mexico, and being everywhere enthusiastically received. When Seward left San Francisco for San Diego, about the middle of September, he was accompanied by Frederick Seward and wife (his son and daughter-in-law), General W. S. Rosecrans, General Morton C. Hunter, Colonel Thomas Sedgwick and Senator S. B. Axtell; and the news of their departure having been telegraphed ahead, many people went down to greet them on the arrival of the steamer Orizaba. After the little steamer Los Angeles had been made fast to the wharf, it was announced, to everyone's disappointment, that the Secretary was not coming ashore, as he wished to continue on his way to San Diego.

Meanwhile, the Common Council had resolved to extend the hospitality of the City to the distinguished party; and by September 19th, posters proclaimed that Seward and his party were coming and that citizens generally would be afforded an opportunity to participate in a public reception at the Bella Union on September 21st. A day in advance, therefore, the Mayor and a Committee from the Council set out for Anaheim, where they met the distinguished statesman on his way, whence the party jogged along leisurely in a carriage and four until they arrived at the bank of the Los Angeles River; and there Seward and his friends were met by other officials and a cavalcade of eighty citizens led by the military band of Drum Barracks. The guests alighted at the Bella Union and in a few minutes a rapidly-increasing crowd was calling loudly for Mr. Seward.

The Secretary, being welcomed on the balcony by Mayor Joel H. Turner, said that he had been laboring under mistakes all his life: he had visited Rome to witness celebrated ruins, but he found more interesting ruins in the Spanish Missions (great cheers); he had journeyed to Switzerland to view its glaciers, but upon the Pacific Coast he had seen rivers of ice two hundred and fifty feet in breadth, five miles long and God knows how high (more cheers); he had explored Labrador to examine the fisheries, but in Alaska he found that the fisheries came to him (Hear! hear! and renewed applause); he had gone to Burgundy to view the most celebrated vineyards of the world, but the vineyards of California far surpassed them all! (Vociferous and deafening hurrahs, and tossing of bouquets.)

The next day the Washington guests and their friends were shown about the neighborhood, and that evening Mr. Seward made another and equally happy speech to the audience drawn to the Bella Union by the playing of the band. There were also addresses by the Mayor, Senator Axtell, ex-Governor Downey and others, after which, in good old American fashion, citizens generally were introduced to the associate of the martyred Lincoln. At nine o'clock, a number of invited guests were ushered into the Bella Union's dining-room where, at a bounteous repast, the company drank to the health of the Secretary. This brought from the visitor an eloquent response with interesting local allusions.

Secretary Seward remarked that he found people here agitated upon the question of internal improvements—for everywhere people wanted railroads. Californians, if they were patient, would yet witness a railroad through the North, another by the Southern route, still another by the Thirty-fifth parallel, a fourth by the central route, and lastly, as the old plantation song goes, one "down the middle!" California needed more population, and railroads were the means by which to get people.

Finally, Mr. Seward spoke of the future prospects of the United States, saying much of peculiar interest in the light of later developments. We were already great, he affirmed; but a nation satisfied with its greatness is a nation without a future. We should expand, and as mightily as we could; until at length we had both the right and the power to move our armies anywhere in North America. As to the island lying almost within a stone's throw of our mainland, ought we not to possess Cuba, too?

Other toasts, such as "The Mayor and Common Council," "The Pioneers," "The Ancient Hospitality of California," "The Press," "The Wine Press" and "Our Wives and Sweethearts," were proposed and responded to, much good feeling prevailing notwithstanding the variance in political sentiments represented by guests and hosts; and everyone went home, in the small hours of the morning, pleased with the manner in which Los Angeles had received her illustrious visitors. The next day, Secretary Seward and party left for the North by carriages, rolling away toward Santa Barbara and the mountains so soon to be invaded by the puffing, screeching iron horse.

Recollecting this banquet to Secretary Seward, I may add an amusing fact of a personal nature. Eugene Meyer and I arranged to go to the dinner together, agreeing that we were to meet at the store of S. Lazard & Company, almost directly opposite the Bella Union. When I left Los Angeles in 1867, evening dress was uncommon; but in New York I had become accustomed to its more frequent use. Rather naturally, therefore, I donned my swallowtail; Meyer, however, I found in a business suit and surprised at my query as to whether he intended going home to dress? Just as we were, we walked across the street and, entering the hotel, whom should we meet but ex-Mayor John G. Nichols, wearing a grayish linen duster, popular in those days, that extended to his very ankles; while Pio and Andrés Pico came attired in blue coats with big brass buttons. Meyer, observing the Mayor's outfit, facetiously asked me if I still wished him to go home and dress according to Los Angeles fashion; whereupon I drew off my gloves, buttoned up my overcoat and determined to sit out the banquet with my claw-hammer thus concealed. Mr. Seward, it is needless to say, was faultlessly attired.

The Spanish archives were long neglected, until M. Kremer was authorized to overhaul and arrange the documents; and even then it was not until September 16th that the Council built a vault for the preservation of the official papers. Two years later, Kremer discovered an original proclamation of peace between the United States and Mexico.

Elsewhere I allude to the slow development of Fort Street. For the first time, on the twenty-fourth of September street lamps burned there, and that was from six to nine months after darkness had been partially banished from Nigger Alley, Los Angeles, Aliso and Alameda streets.

Supplementing what I have said of the Los Angeles & San Pedro Railroad depot: it was built on a lot fronting three hundred feet on Alameda Street and having a depth of one hundred and twenty feet, its situation being such that, after the extension of Commercial Street, the structure occupied the southwest corner of the two highways. Really, it was more of a freight-shed than anything else, without adequate passenger facilities; a small space at the North end contained a second story in which some of the clerks slept; and in a cramped little cage beneath, tickets were sold. By the way, the engineer of the first train to run through to this depot was James Holmes, although B. W. Colling ran the first train stopping inside the city limits.

About this time the real estate excitement had become still more intense. In anticipation of the erection of this depot, Commercial Street property boomed and the first realty agents of whom I have any recollection appeared on the scene, Judge R. M. Widney being among them. I remember that two lots—one eighty by one hundred and twenty feet in size at the northwest corner of First and Spring streets, and the other having a frontage of only twenty feet on New Commercial Street, adjacent to the station—were offered simultaneously at twelve hundred dollars each. Contrary, no doubt, to what he would do to-day, the purchaser chose the Commercial Street lot, believing that location to have the better future.

Telegraph rates were not very favorable, in 1869, to frequent or verbose communication. Ten words sent from Los Angeles to San Francisco cost one dollar and a half; and fifty cents additional was asked for the next five words. After a while, there was a reduction of twenty-five per cent, in the cost of the first ten words, and fifty per cent, on the second five.

Twenty-four hundred voters registered in Los Angeles this year.

In the fall, William H. Spurgeon founded Santa Ana some five miles beyond Anaheim on a tract of about fifty acres, where a number of the first settlers experimented in growing flax.

It is not clear to me just when the rocky Arroyo Seco began to be popular as a resort, but I remember going there on picnics as early as 1857. By the late sixties, when Santa Monica Cañon also appealed to the lovers of sylvan life, the Arroyo had become known as Sycamore Grove—a name doubtless suggested by the numerous sycamores there—and Clois F. Henrickson had opened an establishment including a little "hotel," a dancing-pavilion, a saloon and a shooting-alley. Free lunch and free beer were provided for the first day, and each Sunday thereafter in the summer season an omnibus ran every two hours from Los Angeles to the Sycamores. After some years, John Rumph and wife succeeded to the management, Frau Rumph being a popular Wirtin; and then the Los Angeles Turnverein used the grove for its public performances, including gymnastics, singing and the old-time sack-racing and target-shooting.

James Miller Guinn, who had come to California in November, 1863 and had spent several years in various counties of the State digging for gold and teaching school, drifted down to Los Angeles in October and was soon engaged as Principal of the public school at the new town of Anaheim, remaining there in that capacity for twelve years, during part of which time he also did good work on the County School Board.

Under the auspices of the French Benevolent Society and toward the end of October, the corner-stone of the French Hospital built on City donation lots, and for many years and even now one of the most efficient institutions of our city, was laid with the usual ceremonies.

On October 9th, the first of the new locomotives arrived at Wilmington and a week later made the first trial trip, with a baggage and passenger car. Just before departure a painter was employed to label the engine and decorate it with a few scrolls; when it was discovered, too late, that the artist had spelled the name: LOS ANGELOS. On October 23d, two lodges of Odd Fellows used the railway to visit Bohen Lodge at Wilmington, returning on the first train, up to that time, run into Los Angeles at midnight.

October 26th was a memorable day, for on that date the Los Angeles & San Pedro Railroad Company opened the line to the public and invited everybody to enjoy a free excursion to the harbor. Two trains were dispatched each way, the second consisting of ten cars; and not less than fifteen hundred persons made the round trip. Unfortunately, it was very warm and dusty, but such discomforts were soon forgotten in the novelty of the experience. On the last trip back came the musicians; and the new Los Angeles depot having been cleared, cleaned up and decorated for a dedicatory ball, there was a stampede to the little structure, filling it in a jiffy.

Judge H. K. S. O'Melveny, who first crossed the Plains from Illinois on horseback in 1849, came to Los Angeles with his family in November, having already served four years as a Circuit Judge, following his practice of law in Sacramento. He was a brother-in-law of L. J. Rose, having married, in 1850, Miss Annie Wilhelmina Rose. Upon his arrival, he purchased the southwest corner of Second and Fort streets, a lot one hundred and twenty by one hundred and sixty-five feet in size, and there he subsequently constructed one of the fine houses of the period; which was bought, some years later, by Jotham Bixby for about forty-five hundred dollars, after it had passed through various hands. Bixby lived in it for a number of years and then resold it. In 1872, O'Melveny was elected Judge of Los Angeles County; and in 1887, he was appointed Superior Judge. H. W. O'Melveny, his second son, came from the East with his parents, graduating in time from the Los Angeles High School and the State University. Now he is a distinguished attorney and occupies a leading position as a public-spirited citizen, and a patron of the arts and sciences.

In his very readable work, From East Prussia to the Golden Gate, Frank Lecouvreur credits me with having served the commonwealth as Supervisor. This is a slight mistake: I was an unwilling candidate, but never assumed the responsibilities of office. In 1869, various friends waited upon me and requested me to stand as their candidate for the supervisorship; to which I answered that I would be glad to serve my district, but that I would not lift a finger toward securing my election. H. Ábila was chosen with six hundred and thirty-one votes, E. M. Sanford being a close second with six hundred and sixteen; while five hundred and thirty-seven votes were cast in my favor.

Trains on the new railway began to run regularly on November 1st; and there still exists one of the first time-tables, bearing at the head, "Los Angeles & San Pedro Railroad" and a little picture of a locomotive and train. At first, the train scheduled for two stated round trips a day (except on steamer days, when the time was conditioned by the arrival and departure of vessels) left Wilmington at eight o'clock in the morning and at one o'clock in the afternoon, returning at ten in the morning and four in the afternoon. The fare between Los Angeles and Wilmington was one dollar and fifty cents, with an additional charge of one dollar to the Anchorage; while on freight from the Anchorage to Los Angeles, the tariff was: dry goods, sixteen dollars per ton; groceries and other merchandise, five dollars; and lumber, seven dollars per thousand feet.

After the formal opening of the railroad, a permanent staff of officers, crew and mechanicians was organized. The first Superintendent was H. W. Hawthorne, who was succeeded by E. E. Hewitt, editor of the Wilmington Journal. N. A. McDonald, was the first conductor; Sam Butler was the first and, for a while, the only brakeman, and the engineers were James McBride and Bill Thomas. The first local agent was John Milner; the first agent at Wilmington, John McCrea. The former was succeeded by John E. Jackson, who from 1880 to 1882 served the community as City Surveyor. Worthy of remark, perhaps, as a coincidence, is the fact that both Milner and McCrea ultimately became connected in important capacities with the Farmers & Merchants Bank.

The first advertised public excursion on the Los Angeles & San Pedro Railroad after its opening was a trip to Wilmington and around San Pedro Harbor, arranged for November 5th, 1869. The cars, drawn by the locomotive Los Angeles and connecting with the little steamer of the same name, left at ten and returned at three o'clock in the afternoon. Two dollars was the round-trip fare, while another dollar was exacted from those who went out upon the harbor.

In the late seventies, a Portuguese named Fayal settled near what is now the corner of Sixth and Front streets, San Pedro; and one Lindskow took up his abode in another shack a block away. Around these rude huts sprang up the neighborhoods of Fayal and Lindville, since absorbed by San Pedro.

Probably the first attempt to organize a fire company for Los Angeles was made in 1869, when a meeting was called on Saturday evening, November 6th, at Buffum's Saloon, to consider the matter. A temporary organization was formed, with Henry Wartenberg as President; W. A. Mix, Vice-President; George M. Fall, Secretary; and John H. Gregory, Treasurer. An initiation fee of two dollars and a half, and monthly dues of twenty-five cents, were decided upon; and J. F. Burns, B. Katz, Emil Harris, George Pridham, E. B. Frink, C. D. Hathaway, P. Thompson, O. W. Potter, C. M. Small and E. C. Phelps were charter members. A committee appointed to canvass for subscriptions made little progress, and the partial destruction of Rowan's American Bakery, in December, demonstrating the need of an engine and hose cart, brought out sharp criticism of Los Angeles's penuriousness.

About the middle of November, Daniel Desmond, who had come on October 14th of the preceding year, opened a hat store on Los Angeles Street near New Commercial, widely advertising the enterprise as a pioneer one and declaring, perhaps unconscious of any pun, that he proposed to fill a want that had "long been felt." The steamer Orizaba, which was to bring down Desmond's goods, as ill luck would have it left half of his stock lying on the San Francisco pier; and the opening, so much heralded, had to be deferred several weeks. As late as 1876, he was still the only exclusive hatter here. Desmond died on January 23d, 1903, aged seventy years, and was succeeded by his son, C. C. Desmond. Another son, D. J. Desmond, is the well-known contractor.

Toward the close of November, Joseph Joly, a Frenchman, opened the Chartres Coffee Factory on Main Street opposite the Plaza, and was the pioneer in that line. He delivered to both stores and families, and for a while seemed phenomenally successful; but one fine morning in December it was discovered that the "Jolly Joseph" had absconded, leaving behind numerous unpaid bills.

The first marble-cutter to open a workshop in Los Angeles was named Miller. He came toward the end of 1869 and established himself in the Downey Block. Prior to Miller's coming, all marble work was brought from San Francisco or some source still farther away, and the delay and expense debarred many from using that stone even for the pious purpose of identifying graves.

With the growth of Anaheim as the business center of the country between the new San Gabriel and the Santa Ana rivers, sentiment had been spreading in favor of the division of Los Angeles County; and at the opening of the Legislature of 1869-70, Anaheim had its official representative in Sacramento, ready to present the claims of the little German settlement and its thriving neighbors. The person selected for this important embassy was Major Max von Stroble; and he inaugurated his campaign with such sagacity and energy that the bill passed the Assembly and everything pointed to an early realization of the scheme. It was not, however, until Los Angeles awoke to the fact that the proposed segregation meant a decided loss, that opposition developed in the Senate and the whole matter was held up.

Stroble thereupon sent posthaste to his supporters for more cash, and efforts were made to get the stubborn Senate to reconsider. Doubtless somebody else had a longer purse than Stroble; for in the end he was defeated, and the German's dream did not come true until long after he had migrated to the realms that know no subdivisions. One of the arguments used in favor of the separation was that it took two days's time, and cost six dollars, for the round trip to the Los Angeles Courthouse; while another contention then regarded as of great importance was that the one coil of hose pipe owned by the County was kept at Los Angeles! Stroble, by-the-way, desired to call the new county Anaheim.

Major von Stroble was a very interesting character. He was a German who had stood shoulder to shoulder with Carl Schurz and Franz Sigel in the German Revolution of 1848, and who, after having taken part in the adventures of Walker's filibustering expedition to Nicaragua, finally landed in Anaheim, where he turned his attention to the making of wine. He soon tired of that, and in 1867 was found boring for oil on the Brea Ranch, again meeting with reverses where others later were so successful. He then started the movement to divide Los Angeles County and once more failed in what was afterward accomplished. Journalism in Anaheim next absorbed him and, having had the best of educational advantages, Stroble brought to his newspaper both culture and the experience of travel.

The last grand effort of this adventurous spirit was the attempt to sell Santa Catalina Island. Backed by the owners, Stroble sailed for Europe and opened headquarters near Threadneedle Street in London. In a few weeks he had almost effected the sale, the contract having been drawn and the time actually set for the following day when the money—a cool two hundred thousand pounds—was to be paid; but no Stroble kept tryst to carry out his part of the transaction. Only the evening before, alone and unattended, the old man had died in his room at the very moment when Fortune, for the first time, was to smile upon him! Eighteen or twenty years later, Catalina was sold for much less than the price once agreed upon.

CHAPTER XXVIII
THE LAST OF THE VIGILANTES
1870

As I have somewhere related, I began buying hides as far back as 1855, but it was not until 1870 that this branch of our business assumed such importance as to require more convenient quarters. Then we bought a place on the southeast corner of Alameda and Commercial streets, facing sixty feet on Alameda and having a depth of one hundred and sixty-five feet, where we constructed a hide-house and erected a press for baling. We paid P. Beaudry eleven hundred dollars for the lot. The relatively high price shows what the Los Angeles & San Pedro Railroad depot had done for that section. In the days when hides were sent by sailing-vessels to the East, a different method of preparing them for shipment was in vogue. The wet hides having been stretched, small stakes were driven into the ground along the edge of, and through the skins, thus holding them in place until they had dried and expanding them by about one-third; in this condition they were forwarded loose. Now that transportation is more rapid and there are tanneries in California, all hides are handled wet.

In 1870, business life was centered on Los Angeles Street between Commercial and Arcadia; and all the hotels were north of First Street. Fort Street ended in a little bluff at a spot now between Franklin and First streets. Spring Street was beginning to take on new life, and yet there was but one gas lamp along the entire roadway, though many were the appeals to add another lamp, "say, as far as First Street!"

Sometime in January, a number of ladies of this city met and, through the exertions of Mrs. Rosa Newmark, wife of Joseph Newmark, formed the Ladies' Hebrew Benevolent Society. Mrs. Newmark, as was once pointed out in a notable open-air meeting of women's clubs (to which I elsewhere refer), never accepted any office in the Society; but for years she was untiring in her efforts in the cause of charity. The first officers were: President, Mrs. W. Kalisher; Vice-President, Mrs. Harris Newmark; Treasurer, Mrs. John Jones; Secretary, Mrs. B. Katz; and Collector, Mrs. A. Baer. Three Counselors—Henry Wartenberg, I. M. Hellman and myself—occasionally met with the ladies to advise them.

Aside from the fact of its importance as the pioneer ladies' benevolent organization instituted in Los Angeles, the Society found a much-needed work to do. It was then almost impossible to obtain nurses, and the duty devolved on members to act in that capacity, where such assistance was required, whether the afflicted were rich or poor. It was also their function to prepare the dead for interment, and to keep proper vigil over the remains until the time of burial.

During the year 1869 or 1870, as the result of occasional gatherings in the office of Dr. Joseph Kurtz, the Los Angeles Turnverein was organized with eleven members—Emil Harris leading in the movement, assisted by Dr. Kurtz, Ed. Preuss, Lorenzo Leck, Philip and Henry Stoll, Jake Kuhrts, Fred Morsch, C. C. Lips and Isaac Cohn. Dr. Kurtz was elected President. They fraternized for a while at Frau Wiebecke's Garden, on the west side of Alameda near First Street, about where the Union Hardware and Metal Company now stands; and there, while beer and wine were served in the open air, the Teutons gratified their love of music and song. Needing for their gymnastics more enclosed quarters, the Turnverein rented of Kalisher & Wartenberg the barn on Alameda Street between Ducommon and First, used as a hide-house; and in that rough-boarded shack, whose none too aromatic odors are still a souvenir to many a pioneer resident, the Turners swung and vaulted to their heart's content. Classes were soon arranged for boys; and the envy of all was the lad who, after numerous risks to limb and neck, proudly topped the human pyramid. Another garden of this period often patronized by the Turnverein was Kiln Messer's, on First Street between Alameda and the river.

The Post Office was moved this year from the corner of North Main and Market streets to the middle of Temple Block, but even there the facilities were so inadequate that Wells Fargo & Company, in June, put up a letter-box at the corner of Main and Commercial streets which was emptied but once a day, at four o'clock in the afternoon, save on steamer days when letters were taken out at half-past nine. One other box was at the sole railroad depot, then at the corner of Alameda and Commercial streets. The Post Office at that time was also so miserably illuminated that citizens fumbled about to find their letter-boxes, and ladies were timid about entering the building at night. Postmasters were allowed small reserves; and for some time in 1870 the Los Angeles Post Office was entirely out of one- and two-cent stamps.

In February, the way was prepared for the first city directory when the houses of Los Angeles were ordered to be numbered, a public discussion of the need for a directory having taken place the previous December. When the collaborators began to collect names and other data, there were many refusals to answer questions; but the little volume of seventy pages was finally published in 1871.

Until 1870 Los Angeles had no bookbinder, all binding having had to be sent to San Francisco; and a call was then sent out to induce a journeyman to settle here.

On the fourteenth of February, Phineas Banning was married to Miss Mary, daughter of Colonel J. H. Hollister—the affair being the consummation of a series of courtly addresses in which, as I have related, it was my pleasurable privilege to play an intermediary part. As might be expected of one who was himself an experienced and generous entertainer, the wedding was a social event to be long and pleasantly remembered by the friends of the bride and groom. Mrs. Banning, who for years maintained an attractive home on Fort Hill, is now living on Commonwealth Avenue.

About this time, Colonel Isaac R. Dunkelberger came to Los Angeles to live, having just finished his fifth year in the army in Arizona, following a long service under Northern banners during the Civil War. While here, the Colonel met and courted Miss Mary Mallard, daughter of Judge Mallard; and on February 26th, 1867, they were married. For eight years, from March, 1877, Dunkelberger was Postmaster. He died on December 5th, 1904, survived by his widow and six children. While writing about this estimable family, it occurs to me that Mary, then a little girl, was one of the guests at my wedding.

Frank Lecouvreur, who was Surveyor of Los Angeles County from 1870 until 1873, was a native of East Prussia and like his predecessor, George Hansen, came to California by way of the Horn. For a while, as I have related, he was my bookkeeper. In 1877, he married Miss Josephine Rosanna Smith who had renounced her vows as a nun. Ten years later he suffered a paralytic stroke and was an invalid until his death, on January 17th, 1901.

Once introduced, the telegraph gradually grew in popularity; but even in 1870, when the Western Union company had come into the field and was operating as far as the Coast, service was anything but satisfactory. The poles between Los Angeles and San Francisco had become rotten and often fell, dragging the wires with them, and interrupting communication with the North. There were no wires, up to that time, to Santa Bárbara or San Bernardino; and only in the spring of that year was it decided to put a telegraph line through to San Diego. When the Santa Bárbara line was proposed, the citizens there speedily subscribed twenty-two hundred and forty-five dollars; it having been the company's plan always to get some local stockholders.

As the result of real estate purchases and exchanges in the late sixties and early seventies between Dr. J. S. Griffin, Phineas Banning, B. D. Wilson, P. Beaudry and others, a fruit-growing colony was planned in April, when it was proposed to take in some seventeen hundred and fifty acres of the best part of the San Pasqual rancho, including a ten-thousand-dollar ditch. A company, with a capital stock of two hundred thousand dollars divided into four thousand shares of fifty dollars each, was formed to grow oranges, lemons, grapes, olives, nuts and raisins, John Archibald being President; R. M. Widney, Vice-President; W. J. Taylor, Secretary; and the London & San Francisco Bank, Treasurer. But although subscription books were opened and the scheme was advertised, nothing was done with the land until D. M. Berry and others came from Indiana and started the Indiana Colony.

A rather uncommon personality for about thirty years was Fred Dohs, who came from Germany when he was twenty-three and engaged in trading horses. By 1870 he was managing a barber shop near the Downey Block, and soon after was conducting a string band. For many years, the barber-musician furnished the music for most of the local dances and entertainments, at the same time (or until prices began to be cut) maintaining his shop, where he charged two bits for a shave and four bits for a hair-cut. During his prosperity, Dohs acquired property, principally on East First Street.

The first foot-bridge having finally succumbed to the turbulent waters of the erratic Los Angeles River, the great flood of 1867-68 again called the attention of our citizens to the necessity of establishing permanent and safe communication between the two sides of the stream; and this agitation resulted in the construction by Perry & Woodworth of the first fairly substantial bridge at the foot of the old Aliso Road, now Macy Street, at an outlay of some twenty thousand dollars. Yet, notwithstanding the great necessity that had always existed for this improvement, it is my recollection that it was not consummated until about 1870. Like its poor little predecessor carried away by the uncontrolled waters, the more dignified structure was broken up by a still later flood, and the pieces of timber once so carefully put together by a confident and satisfied people were strewn for a mile or two along the river banks.

'Way back in the formative years of Los Angeles, there were suddenly added to the constellation of noteworthy local characters two jovial, witty, good-for-nothing Irishmen who from the first were pals. The two were known as Dan Kelly and Micky Free. Micky's right name was Dan Harrington; but I never knew Kelly to go under any other appellation. When sober, which was not very frequent, Dan and Micky were good-natured, jocular and free from care, and it mattered not to either of them whether the morrow might find them well-fed and at liberty or in the jail then known as the Hotel de Burns: "sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof" was the only philosophy they knew. They were boon companions when free from drink; but when saturated, they immediately fought like demons. They were both in the toils quite ten months of the year, while during the other two months they carried a hod! Of the two, Micky was the most irredeemable, and in time he became such a nuisance that the authorities finally decided to ship him out of the country and bought him a ticket to Oregon. Micky got as far as San Pedro, where he traded his ticket for a case of delirium tremens; but he did something more—he broke his leg and was bundled back to Los Angeles, renewing here the acquaintance of both the bartender and the jailer. Some years later, he astonished the town by giving up drink and entering the Veterans's Home. When he died, they gave him a soldier's honors and a soldier's grave.

In 1870, F. Bonshard imported into Los Angeles County some five or six hundred blooded Cashmere goats; and about the same time or perhaps even earlier, J. E. Pleasants conducted at Los Nietos a similar enterprise, at one time having four or five hundred of a superior breed, the wool of which brought from twenty-five to thirty-five cents a pound. The goat-fancying Pleasants also had some twelve hundred Angoras.

On June 1st, Henry Hamilton, who two years before had resumed the editorship of the Los Angeles Star, then a weekly, issued the first number of the Daily Star. He had taken into partnership George W. Barter, who three months later started the Anaheim Gazette. In 1872, Barter was cowhided by a woman, and a committee formally requested the editor to vamose the town! Barter next bought the Daily Star from Hamilton, on credit, but he was unable to carry out his contract and within a year Hamilton was again in charge.

At the beginning of this decade, times in Arizona were really very bad. H. Newmark & Company, who had large amounts due them from merchants in that Territory, were not entirely easy about their outstanding accounts, and this prompted Kaspare Cohn to visit our customers there. I urged him to consider the dangers of the road and to abandon his project; but he was determined to go. The story of the trip, in the light of present methods and the comparative safety of travel, is an interesting one, and I shall relate his experiences as he described them to me.

He started on a Saturday, going by stage (in preference to buckboard) from Los Angeles to San Bernardino, and from there rode, as the only passenger, with a stage-driver named Brown, passing through Frink's Ranch, Gilman's, White River, Agua Caliente, Indian Wells, Toros, Dos Palmas, Chuckawalla, Mule Springs and Willow Springs. H. Newmark & Company had forwarded, on a prairie schooner driven by Jesse Allen of Los Angeles, a considerable amount of merchandise which it was their intention should be sold in Arizona, and the freighting charge upon which was to be twelve and a half cents per pound. In Chuckawalla, familiarly called Chucky Valley, the travelers overtook Allen and the stock of goods; and this meeting in that lonesome region was the cause of such mutual rejoicing that Kaspare provided as abundant an entertainment as his limited stores would permit. Resuming their journey from Chuckawalla, the driver and his companion soon left Allen and his cumbersome load in the rear.

It was near Granite Wash, as they were jogging along in the evening, that they noticed some Indian fire signals. These were produced by digging a hole in the ground, filling it with combustible material, such as dry leaves, and setting fire to it. From the smoldering that resulted, smoke was emitted and sparks burst forth. Observing these ticklish warnings, the wayfarers sped away and escaped—perhaps, a tragic fate. Arriving at Ehrenberg on a Tuesday morning, Kaspare remained there all night. Still the only passenger, he left the next day; and it may be imagined how cheering, after the previous experience, was the driver's remark that, on account of the lonesome character of the trip, and especially the danger from scalping Apaches, he would never have departed without some company!

Somewhere between Granite Wash and Wickenberg, a peculiar rattling revealed a near-by snake, whereupon Kaspare jumped out and shot the reptile, securing the tail and rattles. Changing horses or resting at Tyson's Wells, McMullen's and Cullen's Station, they arrived the next night at Wickenberg, the location of the Vulture Mines, where Kaspare called upon the Superintendent—a man named Peoples—to collect a large amount they owed us. Half of the sum was paid in gold bars, at the rate of sixteen dollars per ounce, while the other half we lost.

A niece of M. Kremer lived in Wickenberg, where her husband was in business. She suffered a great deal from headaches, and a friend had recommended, as a talisman, the possession of snake rattles. Kaspare, with his accustomed gallantry, produced the specimen which he had obtained and gave it to the lady; and it is to be hoped that she was as permanently relieved of her pain as so many nowadays are cured of imaginary troubles by no more substantial superstitions.

Making short stops at Wilson's Station, Antelope Station, Kirkland Valley, Skull Valley and Mint Valley, Kaspare reached Prescott, some four hundred and thirty miles from San Bernardino, and enquired after Dan Hazard, the ex-Mayor's brother and one of our customers—who died about the middle of the eighties—and learned that he was then on his way to St. Louis with teams to haul back freight for Levi Bashford who, in addition to being an important trader, was Government Receiver of Public Moneys. Kaspare decided to remain in Prescott until Hazard returned; and as Jesse Allen soon arrived with the merchandise, Kaspare had ample time to sell it. Bashford, as a Government official, was not permitted to handle such goods as matches and cigars, which bore revenue stamps, but Kaspare sold him quantities of lard, beans, coffee, sugar and other supplies. He sold the revenue-stamped articles to Buffum & Campbell, the former of whom had once been a well-known resident of Los Angeles. He also disposed of some goods to Henderson Brothers, afterward prominent bankers of Tucson and Globe, Arizona. In the meantime, Dan Hazard returned and settled his account in full.

Kaspare remained in Prescott nearly four weeks. Between the collections that he made and the money which he received for the consigned merchandise, he had about thirteen thousand dollars in currency to bring back with him. With this amount of money on his person, the return trip was more than ever fraught with danger. Mindful of this added peril, Kaspare kept the time of his departure from Prescott secret, no one, with the exception of Bashford, being in his confidence. He prepared very quietly; and at the last moment, one Saturday afternoon, he slipped into the stage and started for California. Brown was again his companion as far as Ehrenberg. There he met Frank Ganahl and Charles Strong, both soon to become Southern Californians; and knowing them very well, their companionship contributed during the rest of the trip not only pleasure but an agreeable feeling of security. His arrival in Los Angeles afforded me much relief, and the story of his adventures and success added more than a touch of interest.

The first street-sprinklers in Los Angeles were owned and operated about the middle of July by T. W. McCracken, who was allowed by the Council to call upon residents along the route for weekly contributions to keep the water wagon going.

I have told of the establishing of Hellman, Temple & Company as bankers. In September, the first-named bought out his partners and continued, until 1871, as Hellman & Company.

With the commencement of autumn, when the belief prevailed that little or nothing could be done toward persuading the Common Council to beautify the Plaza, a movement to lay out and embellish the five-acre tract bounded by Hill and Olive, and Fifth and Sixth streets, met with such favor that, by the first week in October, some eight hundred dollars had been subscribed for the purpose. On November 19th a public meeting was held, presided over by Prudent Beaudry, Major H. M. Mitchell serving as Secretary; and it was suggested to call the proposed square the Los Angeles Park, and to enclose it, at a cost of about five hundred dollars, with a fence. Another two hundred dollars was soon made up; and the services of L. Carpenter, who offered to plow the land prior to sowing grass-seed, were accepted in lieu of a subscription. Both George Lehman and Elijah Workman showed their public spirit by planting what have since become the largest trees there. Sometime later, the name was changed to Central Park, by which it is still known.

The first hackney coach ever built in Los Angeles was turned out in September by John Goller for J. J. Reynolds—about the same time that the Oriental Stage Company brought a dozen new Concord coaches from the East—and cost one thousand dollars. Goller was then famous for elaborate vehicles and patented spring buggies which he shipped even to pretentious and bustling San Francisco. Before the end of November, however, friends of the clever and enterprising carriage-maker were startled to hear that he had failed for the then not insignificant sum of about forty thousand dollars.

Up to the fall of the year, no connection existed between Temple and First Streets west of Spring; but on the first day of September, a cut through the hill, effected by means of chain-gang labor and continuing Fort Street north, was completed, to the satisfaction of the entire community.

About the middle of October, a petition was presented to the Common Council calling attention to the fact that the Los Angeles Water Company two years before had agreed to erect a fountain on the Plaza; and declaring that the open place was little short of a "scarecrow for visitors." The Company immediately replied that it was ready to put up the fountain; and in November the Council ordered the brick tank taken away. At the beginning of August, 1871, the fountain began playing.

During the second marshalship of William C. Warren, when Joe Dye was one of his deputy officers, there was great traffic in Chinese women, one of whom was kidnaped and carried off to San Diego. A reward of a hundred dollars was offered for her return, and she was brought back on a charge of theft and tried in the Court of Justice Trafford, on Temple Street near Spring. During the trial, on October 31st, 1870, Warren and Dye fell into a dispute as to the reward; and the quarrel was renewed outside the courtroom. At a spot near the corner of Spring and Temple streets Dye shot and killed Warren; and in the scrimmage several other persons standing near were wounded. Dye was tried, but acquitted. Later, however, he himself was killed by a nephew, Mason Bradfield, whose life he had frequently threatened and who fired the deadly bullet from a window of the New Arlington Hotel, formerly the White House, at the southeast corner of Commercial and Los Angeles streets. Mrs. C. P. Bradfield, Bradfield's mother and a teacher, who came in 1875, was the author of certain text-books for drawing, published by A. S. Barnes & Company of New York.

Failures in raising and using camels in the Southwest were due, at least partially, to ignorance of the animal's wants, a company of Mexicans, in the early sixties, overloading some and treating them so badly that nearly all died. Later, Frenchmen, who had had more experience, secured the two camels left, and by 1870 there was a herd of no less than twenty-five on a ranch near the Carson River in Nevada, where they were used in packing salt for sixty miles or more to the mills.

On October 31st, the first Teacher's Institute held in Los Angeles County was opened, with an attendance of thirty-five, in the old Bath Street schoolhouse, that center being selected because the school building at Spring and Second streets, though much better adapted to the purpose, was considered to be too far out of town! County Superintendent W. M. McFadden was President; J. M. Guinn was Vice-President; and P. C. Tonner was Secretary; while a leader in discussions was Dr. Truman H. Rose, who there gave a strong impetus to the founding of the first high school.

Soon after this Institute was held, the State Legislature authorized bonds to the amount of twenty thousand dollars for the purpose of erecting another schoolhouse; and the building was soon to be known as the Los Angeles High School. W. H. Workman, M. Kremer and H. D. Barrows were the building committee.

Mentioning educators, I may introduce the once well-known name of Professor Adams, an instructor in French who lived here in the early seventies. He was so very urbane that on one occasion, while overdoing his polite attention to a lady, he fell off the sidewalk and badly broke his leg!

In a previous chapter I have spoken of a Frenchman named Lachenais who killed a fellow-countryman at a wake, the murder being one of a succession of crimes for which he finally paid the penalty at the hands of a Vigilance Committee in the last lynching witnessed here.

Lachenais lived near where the Westminster Hotel now stands, on the northeast corner of Main and Fourth streets, but he also had a farm south of the city, adjoining that of Jacob Bell who was once a partner in sheep-raising with John Schumacher. The old man was respectable and quiet, but Lachenais quarreled with him over water taken from the zanja. Without warning, he rode up to Bell as he was working in his field and shot him dead; but there being no witnesses to the act, this murder remained, temporarily, a mystery. One evening, as Lachenais (to whom suspicion had been gradually directed), was lounging about in a drunken condition, he let slip a remark as to the folly of anyone looking for Bell's murderer; and this indiscretion led to his arrest and incarceration.

No sooner had the news of Lachenais's apprehension been passed along than the whole town was in a turmoil. A meeting at Stearns's Hall was largely attended; a Vigilance Committee was formed; Lachenais's record was reviewed and his death at the hands of an outraged community was decided upon. Everything being arranged, three hundred or more armed men, under the leadership of Felix Signoret, the barber—Councilman in 1863 and proprietor of the Signoret Building opposite the Pico House—assembled on the morning of December 17th, marched to the jail, overcame Sheriff Burns and his assistants, took Lachenais out, dragged him along to the corral of Tomlinson & Griffith (at the corner of Temple and New High streets) and there summarily hanged him. Then the mob, without further demonstration, broke up; the participants going their several ways. The reader may have already observed that this was not the first time that the old Tomlinson & Griffith gate had served this same gruesome purpose.

The following January, County Judge Y. Sepúlveda charged the Grand Jury to do its duty toward ferreting out the leaders of the mob, and so wipe out this reproach to the city; but the Grand Jury expressed the conviction that if the law had hitherto been faithfully executed in Los Angeles, such scenes in broad daylight would never have taken place. The editor of the News, however, ventured to assert that this report was but another disgrace.

CHAPTER XXIX
THE CHINESE MASSACRE
1871

H. Newmark & Company enjoyed associations with nearly all of the most important wool men and rancheros in Southern California, our office for many years being headquarters for these stalwarts, as many as a dozen or more of whom would ofttimes congregate, giving the store the appearance of a social center. They came in from their ranches and discussed with freedom the different phases of their affairs and other subjects of interest. Wheat, corn, barley, hay, cattle, sheep, irrigation and kindred topics were passed upon; although in 1871 the price of wool being out of all proportion to anything like its legitimate value, the uppermost topic of conversation was wool. These meetings were a welcome interruption to the monotony of our work. Some of the most important of these visitors were Jotham, John W. and Llewellyn Bixby, Isaac Lankershim, L. J. Rose, I. N. Van Nuys, R. S. Baker, George Carson, Manuel Dominguez, Domingo Amestoy, Juan Matías Sanchez, Dan Freeman, John Rowland, John Reed, Joe Bridger, Louis Phillips, the brothers Garnier, Remi Nadeau, E. J. Baldwin, P. Banning and Alessandro Repetto. There was also not a weather prophet, near or far, who did not manage to appear at these weighty discussions and offer his oracular opinions about the pranks of the elements; on which occasions, one after another of these wise men would step to the door, look at the sky and broad landscape, solemnly shake his head and then render his verdict to the speculating circle within. According as the moon emerged "so that one could hang something upon it," or in such a manner that "water would run off" (as they pictured it), we were to have dry or rainy weather; nor would volumes of talk shake their confidence. Occasionally, I added a word, merely to draw out these weather-beaten and interesting old chaps; but usually I listened quietly and was entertained by all that was said. Hours would be spent by these friends in chatting and smoking the time away; and if they enjoyed the situation half as much as I did, pleasant remembrances of these occasions must have endured with them. Many of those to whom I have referred have ended their earthly careers, while others, living in different parts of the county, are still hale and hearty.

A curious character was then here, in the person of the reputed son of a former, and brother of the then, Lord Clanmorris, an English nobleman. Once a student at Dr. Arnold's famous Rugby, he had knocked about the world until, shabbily treated by Dame Fortune, he had become a sheepherder in the employ of the Bixbys.

M. J. Newmark, who now came to visit us from New York, was admitted to partnership with H. Newmark & Company, and this determined his future residence.

As was natural in a town of pueblo origin, plays were often advertised in Spanish; one of the placards, still preserved, thus announcing the attraction for January 30th, at the Merced Theater: