Moses Langley Wicks was a Mississippian who for some years had a law office at Anaheim until, in 1877 or 1878, he removed to Los Angeles and soon became an active operator in real estate. He secured from Jonathan S. Slauson—who organized the Azusa Land and Water Company and helped lay out the town—the Dalton section of the San José Ranch. Wicks was also active in locating the depot of the Santa Fé Railroad, carrying through at private expense the opening of Second Street from Main almost to the river. A brother, Moye Wicks, long an attorney here, later removed to the State of Washington.

Southern California was now prospering; in fact, the whole State was enjoying wonderful advantages. The great Comstock mines were at the height of their prosperity; the natural resources of this part of the country were being developed; land once hard to sell, at even five dollars an acre, was being cut up into small tracts; new hamlets and towns were starting up; money was plentiful and everybody was happy.

About this time my brother, J. P. Newmark, and I made a little tour, visiting Lake Tahoe—an unusual trip in that day—as well as the mines of Nevada. Virginia City, Gold Hill and other mining-camps were the liveliest that I had ever seen. My friend, General Charles Forman, was then Superintendent of the Overman and Caledonia Mines, and was engaged in constructing a beautiful home in Virginia City. After the collapse of the Nevada boom in the early eighties, he transported this house to Los Angeles, at a freight expense of eleven hundred and thirty-five dollars and a total cost of over six thousand, and located it on ten acres of land near the present site of Pico and Figueroa streets, where Mr. and Mrs. Forman, still residents of Los Angeles, for years have enjoyed their home.

Miners were getting high wages and spending their money lavishly, owners of buildings in Virginia City receiving from four to eight per cent. a month on their investments. W. C. Ralston, President of the Bank of California at San Francisco, was largely responsible for this remarkable excitement, for he not only lent money freely but he lent it regardless of conservative banking principles. He engaged in indiscriminate speculation, for a time legitimatizing illegitimacy, and people were so incited by his example that they plunged without heed. All of Nevada's treasure was shipped to San Francisco, whose prosperity was phenomenal. From San Francisco the excitement spread throughout the State; but these conditions, from the nature of things, could not endure. From Bull to Bear is but a short step when the public is concerned, and it happened accordingly, as it so frequently does, that the cry of "Save yourself, if you can!" involved California in a general demoralization. One day in October, 1875, when Ralston's speculation had indeed proven disastrous, the Bank of California closed its doors; and a few days after this, Ralston, going a-swimming in the neighborhood of the North Beach at San Francisco, was drowned—whether a suicide or not, no one knows. In the meantime, the recessional frenzy extended all over the State, and every bank was obliged to close its doors. Those of Los Angeles were no exception to the rule; and it was then that Temple & Workman suspended. I. W. Hellman, who was on a European trip at the time, forthwith returned to Los Angeles, re-opened the doors of the Farmers & Merchants Bank and resumed business just as if nothing had happened. Following this panic, times became dreadfully bad; from greatest prosperity, we dropped to the depths of despair. Specie disappeared from circulation; values suffered, and this was especially true of real estate in California.

Temple & Workman's Bank, for reasons I have already specified, could not recover. Personally, these gentlemen stood well and had ample resources; but to realize on these was impossible under conditions then existing. They applied to E. J. Baldwin, a Monte Cristo of that period, for a loan. He was willing to advance them two hundred and ten thousand dollars, but upon two conditions: first, that they would give him a blanket-mortgage on their combined real estate; secondly, that their intimate friend, Juan Matías Sanchez, would include in the mortgage his splendid tract consisting of twenty-two hundred acres of the finest land around the Old Mission. Sanchez, who transacted a good deal of business with H. Newmark & Company, came to me for advice. I felt convinced that Temple & Workman's relief could be at best but temporary, although I am sure that they themselves believed it would be permanent, and so I strenuously urged Sanchez to refuse; which he finally promised me to do. So impressive was our interview that I still vividly recall the scene when he dramatically said: "¡No quiero morir de hambre!"—"I do not wish to die of hunger!" A few days later I learned, to my deep disappointment, that Sanchez had agreed, after all, to include his lands. In the course of time, Baldwin foreclosed and Sanchez died very poor. Temple also, his pride shattered—notwithstanding his election in 1875 to the County Treasurership—died a ruined man; and Workman soon committed suicide. Thus ended in sorrow and despair the lives of three men who, in their day, had prospered to a degree not given to every man, and who had also been more or less distinguished. Baldwin bought in most of the land at Sheriff's sale; and when he died, in 1909, after an adventurous career in which he consummated many transactions, he left an estate of about twenty millions. A pathetic reminder of Sanchez and his one-time prosperity is an asador or meat toaster, from the old Sanchez homestead, now exhibited at the County Museum.

In 1874, Senator John P. Jones came south and engaged with William M. Stewart, his senatorial colleague (once an obscure lawyer in Downieville, and later a Nevada Croesus), in mining at Panamint, purchasing all their supplies in Los Angeles. About the same time, Colonel R. S. Baker, who had shortly before bought the San Vicente rancho, sold a two-thirds interest in the property to Jones; and one of their first operations was the laying out of the town of Santa Monica. After the hotel and bath-houses had been built, an auction sale of lots took place on July 16th, 1875, and was attended by a large number of people, including myself; prospective buyers coming from as far as San Francisco to compete with bidders from the Southland. Tom Fitch, already known as the "Silver-tongued Orator," was the auctioneer and started the ball rolling with one of his most pyrotechnical efforts. He described the place about to be founded as "The Zenith City by the Sunset Sea," and painted a gorgeous vista of the day when the white sails of commerce would dot the placid waters of the harbor, and the products of the Orient would crowd those of the Occident at the great wharves that were to stretch far out into the Pacific!

Then Tom turned his attention and eloquence to the sale of the lots, which lay along Ocean Avenue, each sixty by one hundred and fifty feet in size. Calling for a bid, he announced the minimum price of three hundred dollars for sites along the ocean front. Several friends—I. M. Hellman, I. W. Hellman, Kaspare Cohn, Eugene Meyer and M. J. Newmark—had authorized me to act for them; and I put in the first bid of three hundred dollars. Fitch accepted, and stated that as many more of these lots as I wanted could be had at the same price; whereupon I took five, located between Utah and Oregon avenues. These we divided among us, each taking fifty feet front, with the expectation of building summer homes; but strange to say, none of us did so, and in the end we sold our unimproved ground. Some years later, I bought a site in the next block and built a house which I still occupy each year in the summer season.

Three early characters of Santa Monica had much to do with the actual starting of the place. The one, L. G. Giroux, a Canadian, walked out to Santa Monica one day in 1875, to get a glimpse of the surf, and came back to town the owner of a lot on which he soon built the second permanent house there—a small grocery and liquor shop. In the eighties, Giroux did good public service as a Supervisor. The second, Billy Rapp, also came in 1875 and built a small brick house on the west side of Second Street somewhere between Utah and Arizona avenues. There, after marrying a German Frau, he opened a saloon; and pleasure-seekers visiting Santa Monica on Sundays long remembered Billy's welcome and how, on the arrival of the morning train from Los Angeles, he always tapped a fresh keg of lager. After a while, he closed his saloon and sold the little building for a town hall. Hard times in later years rapped at Billy's door, forcing him to work on the public streets until 1899, when he died. The third settler was George Boehme, who landed with the first steamer and, within an hour or two, invested in lots. His family is there to-day.

Another pioneer Santa Monica family was that of William D. Vawter who, with his sons, W. S. and E. J., originally members of the Indiana Colony at Pasadena, removed to the beach in 1875. My relations with these gentlemen were quite intimate when they conducted a general merchandise business, that being but one of their numerous enterprises. Of late years, W. S. Vawter has twice been Postmaster at Santa Monica.

In 1875, Paul Kern, who had come to Los Angeles in 1854 and was for years a baker, set to work to improve a piece of property he owned at the junction of South Main and Spring streets, between Eighth and Ninth. At the end of this property he erected a two-story brick building—still to be seen—in the lower part of which he had a grocery and a saloon, and in the upper part of which he lived.

Toward the middle of the seventies, A. Ulyard, the baker, embarked in the carrying of passengers and freight between Los Angeles and Santa Monica, sending a four-horse stage from here at half-past seven every morning, and from Santa Monica at half-past three in the afternoon, and calling at all four Los Angeles hotels as well as at the private residences of prospective patrons. One dollar was the fare charged.

Ralph Leon had the only regular cigar store here in the late sixties, occupying a part of the United States Hotel; and he was very prosperous until, unable to tolerate a nearby competitor—George, a brother of William Pridham—he took up a new stand and lost much of his patronage. Pridham opened the second cigar store, about 1872 or 1873, next to the hotel; and Leon moved to a shop near the Farmers & Merchants Bank.

The names of these early dealers remind me of an interesting custom especially popular with Captain Thom, Billy Workman and other lovers of the aromatic weed. Instead of buying cigars by the piece, each of these inveterate smokers purchased a box at a time, wrote his name on the lid and left it on a shelf of the dealer; and from time to time they would slip in by a rear door and help themselves—generally from their own or, occasionally, from their neighbor's supply. When Leon discovered that the patron's box was empty, he would have it refilled.

In the autumn, Temple & Workman were obliged to suspend. After closing temporarily, they made an effort to resume, but a run on the Bank deprived them of all reserves and they finally had to close their doors. It was the worst of all bank failures here, the creditors losing everything. Some idea of the disaster may be gathered from the fact that the Receiver finally sold worthless securities to the extent of about three hundred thousand dollars for the paltry sum of thirty dollars.

On the sixth of November, 1875, Mrs. Joseph Newmark, my wife's mother, died here surrounded by her nearest of kin.

During the construction of the Southern Pacific Railway, Sisson, Wallace & Company, who furnished both labor and supplies, brought M. Dodsworth to Los Angeles and like many of their employees, he remained here after the railroad was completed. He engaged in the pork-packing business, for a long period prospered and built a residence on the southwest corner of Sixth and Main streets, opening it with a large reception. He was an honorable man and had a host of friends; but about 1887, when the Santa Fé had been built to Los Angeles, the large Eastern packers of hog products sent agents into Southern California and wiped Dodsworth out of business.

S. J. Mathes came in 1875, helped enlarge the Mirror and was identified with the Times; but failing health, forcing him to abandon office work, led him in the eighties to conduct Pullman excursions, in which undertaking he became a pioneer, bringing thousands of tourists to the Southland. He also toured the country with a railway car exhibit known as "California on Wheels," pointing the way of exploitation to later Chambers of Commerce.

Toward the end of the year, when attention was being centered on the coming exposition at Philadelphia, I was asked by the Chamber of Commerce to assist in editing a report on the resources, conditions, population, climatic advantages and mercantile interests of the city and county of Los Angeles. The aim of the Board was to make the report truthful and helpful, and to distribute it gratis, particularly at the Centennial. Ben C. Truman wrote about cities, towns and climate; Judge R. M. Widney reported on railroads; H. McClellan, the steamship agent (who preceded Willis Parris, the present representative and once a competent bill-clerk in the employ of H. Newmark & Company) and brother of Bryce and George F. McClellan, told of ocean navigation; Dr. J. E. Fulton, of Fulton Wells, discussed farming; Dr. J. P. Widney described our harbor; D. M. Berry argued for real estate; Governor Downey presented banks and banking; M. Keller and L. J. Rose treated of vine culture; J. de B. Shorb looked after semi-tropical fruits and nuts, and T. A. Garey—himself the owner of a charming place on San Pedro Street, where his spiritualistic tendencies kept him up at night awaiting the arrival of spooks—considered other fruits and nurseries; W. J. Brodrick stated our advance in trades, professions, churches and societies; E. C. French summed up about stock; Captain Gordon recounted our prospects for beet culture; while H. D. Barrows and I prepared data as to the commerce of Southern California. Thus compactly put together, this booklet certainly led many Easterners to migrate West and to settle in Los Angeles and vicinity.

In the early seventies, Grange Stores, brought into existence by a craze for coöperation, were scattered throughout the State, and Milton H. La Fetra in February, 1875 helped to organize one here. In time, this establishment became known, first as Seymour & Company and then as Seymour, Johnson & Company, their location being on Main Street near First.

W. H. Northcraft's activity as an auctioneer began about the middle of the seventies. For a while, he had an office in Temple Block, but about 1880 moved to the east side of Los Angeles Street near Requena; later to the Signoret Building, and still later to the Baker Block. In 1879, Thomas B. Clark, still well known "in the profession," came to Los Angeles and, marrying Northcraft's daughter, joined his father-in-law in partnership. C. L. Northcraft, a son, was added to the firm. Alonzo B. Cass came to Los Angeles in 1888, accompanied by his brothers, and soon after, as Cass Brothers' Stove Company, they started a hardware store on Third Street, purchasing some of Northcraft & Clark's stock of merchandise. A. B. Cass, who served as President of the Chamber of Commerce in 1901, has freely given of his time to public movements. As President of the Home Telephone & Telegraph Company, he has had much to do with their local success. E. W. Noyes was also a popular, old-time auctioneer, remaining in harness until he was seventy-five years old or more.

The mention of these names recalls the auction of past decades, such a familiar feature of Los Angeles life. In few respects were the methods of early days at all like those of our own: there were no catalogues, no neatly-arranged store-rooms and but little expert service; noise and bluff constituted a good, even important portion of the necessary auctioneering talent; household effects were usually offered at homes; horses—and these constituted the objects of most early auctioneering activities—were trotted up and down Los Angeles Street for display and sale.

CHAPTER XXXIII
LOS ANGELES & INDEPENDENCE RAILROAD
1876

Once Santa Monica's boom had been launched, the town developed as had few other suburbs of Los Angeles. Within nine or ten months a thousand inhabitants pointed with satisfaction to one hundred and sixty houses and perhaps half as many tents. Senator Jones built a wharf and pushed to completion the Los Angeles & Independence Railroad; and the road was opened to the public on Wednesday, December 1st, 1875, with a depot on San Pedro Street near Wolfskill Lane. Two trains a day were run—one leaving Los Angeles for Santa Monica at half-past nine in the morning and another at a quarter after four in the afternoon; the trains from Santa Monica for Los Angeles departing at half-past seven in the morning and half-past two in the afternoon. On January 5th, 1876, the Railroad Company offered sixty single commutation tickets for ten dollars; and a few days later, the conductor and other train employees appeared in uniform, each wearing on his cap what was then considered an innovation, the badge of his office. Captain Joseph U. Crawford was Superintendent and Chief Engineer.

From the start the Road did a thriving freight business, although passenger traffic was often interfered with. Early in January, 1876, for instance, the train from Santa Monica failed to make its appearance, the engineer having spied a bit of ground suspiciously soft in the ciénaga—locally spelled ciénega—refused, despite the protests of passengers, to proceed!

There were also inconveniences of travel by steamer such as arose from the uncertainty whether a vessel running between San Francisco and San Diego would put in at San Pedro or Santa Monica. According to conditions, or perhaps through the desire to throw a little trade one way or the other, the captain might insist on stopping at one port, while friends had assembled to greet the traveler at the other. A single car, with such objects of wonder as air brakes and Miller couplers drew Sunday crowds; and when, about the middle of January, the Company carried down ten car-loads of people on a single day and brought them back safely, substantial progress, it was generally felt, had been made.

In February, the Santa Monica Land Company was pushing its sales of real estate, and one of its announcements began with the headlines:

the advertisement winding up with the declaration that several hundred vessels, including the largest boats of the Pacific Mail Steamship Company, had already loaded and discharged at the wharf in all weathers!

My memory is obscure as to just when Senator Jones built his splendid mansion at the corner of Ocean and Nevada avenues, but I think it was about 1890. I certainly recollect that it was then considered the most extensive and elaborate home in the vicinity of Los Angeles.

Rather late in January, H. Newmark & Company had their first experience with burglars who scaled the wall behind the store one Saturday night, cut away enough brick to enable them to throw back the bolt of the door, then barricaded the front doors by means of crowbars and proceeded to open the safe, which was of the old Tilton & McFarland pattern. The face was forced off, but the eight hundred dollars in the safe remained intact and undisturbed, the burglars making a total haul of only five dollars. Other merchants also suffered at this time from the depredations of cracksmen.

Following this futile attack, we sent for a new safe of the Hall type. Scarcely had a month elapsed, however, when a second attempt was made in much the same way. Then the burglars went to work in real earnest and soon effected an entrance into the money-drawers. But, alas! the entire contents secured would not have provided half a dozen tamales! This fact, probably, aroused the ire of the rascals, for they mutilated the front of the prettily-decorated safe before leaving, and tried to destroy the combination. The best excuse—and perhaps not such a bad one—that the police had to offer for not furnishing Los Angeles Street better protection, was that the night was dark, the street and sidewalks flooded and that a policeman, who had tried the beat, had been nearly drowned!

In February, trains on the Los Angeles & Independence Railroad began to leave Los Angeles at ten o'clock in the morning and five o'clock in the afternoon, and Santa Monica at eight and four o'clock, the Company deeming it a sufficient inducement to allow excursionists five or six hours to bathe, fish or picnic. Round-trip tickets, good for the day and date only, were sold at a dollar each; and the management reserved the right, on steamer days, to change the schedule to fit the sailings. When a fourth passenger coach was added to the equipment, the Company declared that the accommodations between this city and Santa Monica were "equal to those on any road along the entire Coast;" but the high-water mark of effort was reached when it was announced that the "splendid palace car dubbed Santa Monica, which had carried Senator Jones to Washington," was then being sent south from San Francisco for the convenience of the Company's patrons. In March, while the San Pedro Street Railway was being built, another official announcement said that "in the course of a few days the people of this city will have the honor and delight of seeing a palace car standing on a railroad track near the Pico House;" and about the end of March printer's ink displayed this appeal to the expectant public:

On February 14th, General Andrés Pico died at his residence, 203 Main Street, and was buried from his home on the following day.

On March 1st, work was commenced on the San Pedro Street Railway, which in time was extended from the Santa Monica station to the Plaza, via San Pedro, Los Angeles, Arcadia and Sanchez streets. The gauge was that of the Los Angeles & Independence Railway, thus permitting freight cars to be hauled to the center of the city; on which account business men looked upon the new road as a boon. Passenger cars soon ran from the depot to the Pico House; and as the fare was but five cents, or thirty tickets for a dollar, this line was rewarded with a fair patronage. At the end of 1876, four street railways were in operation here.

In March, also, two hundred pleasure-seekers, then considered a generous outpouring, went down to Santa Monica on a single Sunday; and within the first three months of the year, the Land Company there gathered in about seventy-three thousand dollars—selling a lot almost every day. South Santa Monica was then looked upon as the finer part of the growing town, and many of my friends, including Andrew Glassell, Cameron E. Thom, General George Stoneman, E. M. Ross, H. M. Mitchell, J. D. and Dr. Frederick T. Bicknell and Frank Ganahl, bought sites there for summer villas.

Micajah D. Johnson, twice City Treasurer, was a Quaker who came here in 1876. He built at Santa Monica a hotel which was soon burned; and later he became interested in the colony at Whittier, suggesting the name of that community.

In 1876, the City purchased a village hook-and-ladder truck in San Francisco which, drawn by hand in the vigorous old-fashioned way, supplied all our needs until 1881.

In 1876, the Archer Freight and Fare Bill, which sought to regulate railroad transportation, engrossed the attention of commercial leaders, and on March 9th, President S. Lazard called together the Directors of the Chamber of Commerce at the office of Judge Ygnácio Sepúlveda. Besides President Lazard, there were present R. M. Widney, W. J. Brodrick, M. J. Newmark, E. E. Hewitt and I. W. Lord. Little time was lost in the framing of a despatch which indicated to our representatives how they would be expected to vote on the matter. Several speeches were made, that of M. J. Newmark focusing the sentiment of the opposition and contributing much to defeat the measure. Newmark expressed surprise that a bill of such interest to the entire State should have passed the Lower House apparently without discussion, and declared that Southern Californians could never afford to interfere with the further building of railroads here. Our prosperity had commenced with their construction, and it would be suicidal to force them to suspend.

In a previous chapter I have spoken of the rate—ten dollars per thousand—first charged for gas, and the public satisfaction at the further reduction to seven dollars and a half. This price was again reduced to six dollars and seventy-five cents; but lower rates prevailing elsewhere, Los Angeles consumers about the middle of March held a public meeting to combat the gas monopoly. After speeches more lurid, it is to be feared, than any gas flame of that period, a resolution was passed binding those who signed to refrain from using gas for a whole year, if necessary, beginning with the first of April. Charles H. Simpkins, President of the Los Angeles Gas Company, retorted by insisting that, at the price of coal, the Company could not possibly sell gas any cheaper; but a single week's reflection, together with the specter of an oil-lamp city, led the Gas Company, on March 21st, to grant a reduction to six dollars a thousand.

Will Tell was a painter in 1869 and had his shop in Temple Block, opposite the Court House. Early in 1876 he opened a lunch and refreshment house at the corner of Fourth Street and Utah Avenue in Santa Monica, where he catered to excursionists, selling hunting paraphernalia and fishing tackle, and providing "everything, including fluids." Down at what is now Playa del Rey, Tell had conducted, about 1870, a resort on a lagoon covered with flocks of ducks; and there he kept eight or ten boats for the many hunters attracted to the spot, becoming more and more popular and prosperous. In 1884, however, raging tides destroyed Tell's happy hunting grounds; and for fifteen or twenty years, the "King's Beach" was more desert than resort. Tell continued for a while at Santa Monica and was an authority on much that had to do with local sport.

On Sunday, April 9th, the Cathedral of Sancta Vibiana, whose corner-stone had been laid in 1871 on the east side of Main Street south of Second, was opened for public service, its architecture (similar to that of the Puerto de San Miguel in Barcelona, Spain) at once attracting wide attention. As a matter of fact, the first corner-stone had been placed, on October 3d, 1869, on the west side of Main Street between Fifth and Sixth, when it was expected that the Cathedral was to extend to Spring Street. The site, however (and oddly enough,) was soon pronounced, "too far out of town," and a move was undertaken to a point farther north. In more recent years, efforts have been made to relocate the bishop's church in the West End. A feature of the original edifice was a front railing, along the line of the street, composed of blocks of artificial stone made by Busbard & Hamilton who in 1875 started a stone factory, the first of its kind here, in East Los Angeles.

Victor Dol, who arrived here in the Centennial year and became the Delmonico of his day, kept a high-grade restaurant, known as the Commercial in the old Downey Block, about one hundred and fifty feet north of the corner of Spring and Temple streets. The restaurant was reached through a narrow passageway that first led into an open court paved with brick, in the center of which a fountain played. Crossing this court, the interested patron entered the main dining-room, where an excellent French dinner was served daily at a cost of but fifty cents, and where the popular chef furnished many of the notable banquets of his time. Dol also had a number of private dining-rooms, where the epicures of the period were wont to meet, and for the privilege of dining in which there was an additional charge. Dol's Commercial was a popular institution for more than a quarter of a century.

Dol then had in his employ an uncle, who was a rather mysterious individual, and who proved to be a French anarchist. It was said that his pet scheme for regulating the government of Louis Philippe met with such scant approval that, one fine day, he found himself in jail. Escaping in course of time from the anxious and watchful authorities, he made his way to the outside world and finally located here. After the Franco-Prussian War of 1870-71, he was supposed to have returned to his native land, where he once more satisfied his peculiar propensity for patriotic activity by tearing down and burning, in company with other so-called Communists, some of the most beautiful buildings in all Paris.

In the spring of 1876, Los Angeles boasted of another French restaurant, a dining place called the Oriental and conducted by a Frenchman, C. Casson and a German, H. Schmitt. It was on Main Street opposite the Pico House, and much ado was made of the claim that everything was "in European style" and that it was "the largest and most commodious restaurant south of San Francisco."

Human nature—at least of the feminine type—was much the same, thirty-five or forty years ago, as it is to-day. Such a conclusion, at least, the reader may reach after scanning an Easter advertisement of Miss Hammond, an 1876 milliner who had a little shop at 7 North Spring Street and who then made the following announcement to those of her fashion-loving sex:

Elsewhere I have mentioned the salt works near Redondo's site. Dr. H. Nadeau (who came here in 1876, had an office in the Grand Central Hotel and was soon elected Coroner) was once called there and started with a constable and an undertaker—the latter carrying with him a rough board coffin for the prospective "subject." Losing their way, the party had to camp for the night on the plains; whereupon the Coroner, opening the coffin, crawled in and "slept like a brick!"

John Edward Hollenbeck, who in 1888 built the Hollenbeck Hotel, returned to Los Angeles in the spring of 1876—having been here in 1874, when he made certain realty investments—secured land on the east side of the Los Angeles River, spent a large sum of money for improvements and soon built a residence exceptionally fine for that time. And in this beautiful home, in close proximity to Boyle Avenue, he lived until his death, on September 2d, 1885, at the age of fifty-six years. Succeeding A. C. Bilicke in 1903, John S. Mitchell, long a prominent Angeleño, is still controlling this busy hostelry.

I have spoken of an adobe on ten acres of land I once purchased to secure water for my flock of sheep. After Hollenbeck had built his home on Boyle heights, he was so disturbed by a company of Mexicans who congregated in this adobe that, in sheer desperation, he asked me in 1882 to sell him the land. I did so, and we agreed upon six hundred and twenty-five dollars as a price for the entire piece.

Hollenbeck then made another noteworthy investment. H. C. Wiley owned a lot, one hundred and twenty feet by one hundred and sixty-five, on the southeast corner of Fort and Second streets, where he lived in a small cottage. He had mortgaged this property for six thousand dollars; but since, under his contract, Wiley was not required to pay interest, the mortgagee tired of the loan. Hollenbeck bought the mortgage and made a further advance of four thousand dollars on the property. He finally foreclosed, but at the same time did the handsome thing when he gave Mrs. Wiley, a daughter of Andrés Pico, a deed for the forty feet on Fort Street upon which the cottage stood. These forty feet are almost directly opposite Coulter's dry goods store.

So many ranchers had again and again unsuccessfully experimented with wheat in this vicinity that when I. N. Van Nuys, in 1876, joined Isaac Lankershim in renting lands from the company in which they were interested, and in planting nearly every acre to that staple grain, failure and even ruin were predicted by the old settlers. Van Nuys, however, selected and prepared his seed with care and the first season rewarded them with a great harvest, which they shipped to Liverpool. Thus was inaugurated the successful cultivation of wheat in Southern California on a large scale. In 1878, the depot of the Southern Pacific at the corner of Alameda and Commercial streets had become too small for the Company's growing business, compelling them to buy on San Fernando Street; and Lankershim and his associates purchased the old structure from the Company for the sum of seventeen thousand, five hundred dollars, and there erected a flour mill which they conducted until the ranch was sold, a few years ago.

One of the very interesting cases in the Los Angeles courts was that which came before Judge H. K. S. O'Melveny on May 15th when Mrs. Eulalia Perez Guillen, one hundred and thirty years old according to the records of the church at San Gabriel, claimed the right to exhibit herself at the Centennial Exposition in Philadelphia as a California curiosity. She was accompanied to court by a daughter, Mariana and their counsel, F. P. Ramirez; but there was also present another daughter, Mrs. de White, who brought Attorney Stephen M. White to assist in opposing the visionary scheme. Mariana admitted that she had not the means to humor the old lady in her hobby, while Mrs. de White objected that her mother was in her dotage and could not travel as far as Philadelphia. The Judge granted the old lady liberty to live with either daughter, but required of Mariana a bond of five hundred dollars as a guarantee that she would not take her mother out of the county.

On May 17th, William Workman was gathered to his fathers, later being buried near the little chapel at La Puente, side by side with John Rowland, his early comrade and life-long friend.

An early and popular educator here was Miss E. Bengough who, about 1870, had started her "Select School for Young Ladies and Children," and who on June 5th had one of her "commencements" in the Spring Street school house. At the beginning of the eighties, the Bengough school was at No. 3 Third Street. Miss Bengough died, a number of years ago, after having been for some years at the Hollenbeck Home.

Glowing descriptions of the Centennial Exposition first attracted the attention of Madame Helena Modjeska, the Polish lady eventually so famous, and the presence here of a small Polish colony finally induced her and her husband, Charles Bozenta Chlapowski, to make the dubious experiment of abandoning the stimulation of Old World culture and committing themselves to rustic life near the bee ranch of J. E. Pleasants in Santiago Cañon. Heaps of cigarettes, books and musical instruments were laid in to help pass the hours pleasantly; but disaster of one kind or another soon overtook the idealists who found that "roughing it" in primeval California suggested a nightmare rather than a pleasant dream. Forced to take up some more lucrative profession, Madame Modjeska, in July, 1877, made her début in San Francisco as Adrienne Lecouvreur and was soon starring with Booth. This radical departure, however, did not take the gifted lady away for good; her love for California led her to build, near the site of their first encampment and in what they called the Forest of Arden, a charming country home to which she repaired when not before the footlights. Still later, she lived near Newport. More than one public ovation was tendered Madame Modjeska in Los Angeles, the community looking upon her as their own; and I remember a reception to her at O. W. Childs's home when I had a better opportunity for noting her unostentatious and agreeable personality. Modjeska Avenue is a reminder of this artist's sojourn here.

In June, W. W. Creighton started the Evening Republican; but during the winter of 1878-79 the paper, for lack of support, ceased to be published.

Andrew W. Ryan, a Kilkenny Irishman commonly called Andy, after footing it from Virginia City to Visalia, reached Los Angeles on horseback and found employment with Banning as one of his drivers. From 1876 to 1879, he was County Assessor, later associating himself with the Los Angeles Water Company until, in 1902, the City came into control of the system.

CHAPTER XXXIV
THE SOUTHERN PACIFIC
1876

Before the completion of the San Fernando tunnel, a journey East from Los Angeles by way of Sacramento was beset with inconveniences. The traveler was lucky if he obtained passage to San Fernando on other than a construction train, and twenty to twenty-four hours, often at night, was required for the trip of the Telegraph Stage Line's creaking, swaying coach over the rough road leading to Caliente—the northern terminal—where the longer stretch of the railroad north was reached. The stage-lines and the Southern Pacific Railroad were operated quite independently, and it was therefore not possible to buy a through-ticket. For a time previously, passengers took the stage at San Fernando and bounced over the mountains to Bakersfield, the point farthest south on the railroad line. When the Southern Pacific was subsequently built to Lang's Station, the stages stopped there; and for quite a while a stage started from each side of the mountain, the two conveyances meeting at the top and exchanging passengers. Once I made the journey north by stage to Tipton in Tulare County, and from Tipton by rail to San Francisco. The Coast Line and the Telegraph Line stage companies carried passengers part of the way. The Coast Line Stage Company coaches left Los Angeles every morning at five o'clock and proceeded via Pleasant Valley, San Buenaventura, Santa Bárbara, Guadalupe, San Luis Obispo and Paso de Robles Hot Springs, and connected at Soledad with the Southern Pacific Railroad bound for San Francisco by way of Salinas City, Gilroy and San José; and this line made a speciality of daylight travel, thus offering unusual inducements to tourists. There was no limit as to time; and passengers were enabled to stop over at any point and to reserve seats in the stage-coaches by giving some little notice in advance.

In 1876, I visited New York City for medical attention and for the purpose of meeting my son, Maurice, upon his return from Paris. I left Los Angeles on the twenty-ninth of April by the Telegraph Stage Line, traveling to San Francisco and thence east by the Central Pacific Railroad; and I arrived in New York on the eighth of May. My son returned, June 29th, on the steamer Abyssinia; and a few days later we started for home. While in Brooklyn, on June 4th, I attended Plymouth Church and heard Henry Ward Beecher preach on "Serve Thy Master with a Will." His rapid transition from the pathetic to the humorous, and back to the pathetic, was most effective.

Our itinerary brought us to the Centennial Exhibition in Philadelphia, on the Fourth of July; and aside from the peculiar satisfaction at being present on historic ground upon that anniversary, I recall, with pleasure, many experiences and impressions new and interesting, notwithstanding the inconvenience caused by the great crowds. At the Exhibition, which had a circumference of only three and a half miles, I saw California's small but very creditable display; and I remember my astonishment at seeing a man seated before an apparatus, apparently in the act of printing letters. He was demonstrating an early typewriter, and I dictated to my wife half a dozen lines which he rapidly typed upon paper. Of the various nations, the Japanese and the Chinese attracted me most. Machinery Hall, with its twelve hundred machines all run by one huge Corliss engine, was as noisy as it was interesting. The New York Herald and the Times were printed there daily. In the Art Gallery there was one marble figure so beautifully draped that a young lady, passing by, said: "Father, why don't they remove that lace shawl from the statue?" During the evening, on the balconies of the Union League Club, we enjoyed a torchlight parade never to be forgotten.

On our way West we stopped at Salt Lake City; and as we had been informed that Brigham Young would be at the Opera House that evening, we attended the performance. I have forgotten the name of the play, but Rose Eytinge was the star. Brigham sat in his private box with two of his wives; and as it was a very hot night in July and the building was packed with people, his wives were both fanning him assiduously and otherwise contributing to his comfort. The following day we called at his residence to see him, expecting to renew an acquaintanceship established years before; but to our regret he was ill and could not receive us. A few months later, he died.

Leaving Salt Lake City early in August, we traveled by the Central Pacific to San Francisco where several days were very pleasantly spent with my brother and his family, and from there we left for Los Angeles, taking the Southern Pacific to its terminus at Lang's Station. Proceeding over the mountain by stage, we arrived at what is now the south end of the long tunnel and there boarded the train for this city.

Among others who went from Los Angeles to the Philadelphia Centennial was Ben C. Truman. He took with him specimens of choice California plants, and wrote letters, from various stations on the way, to his paper, the Star. Governor and Mrs. Downey, whom I met in New York in June, were also at the Exhibition.

Ben Truman's visit recalls the enterprise of preparing a booklet for circulation at the exposition setting forth the advantages of Los Angeles, and the fact that the Star was the first to propose sending copies of the local newspapers to Philadelphia, at the same time agreeing to contribute its share. In that connection, it also referred to a previous, similar experiment, endorsed by Truman, in these words:

Another interesting experiment in early advertising, by means of the stereopticon, was made in 1876 when the Los Angeles photographer, Henry T. Payne, exhibited at Philadelphia a fine selection of views designed to inform the spectator about Southern California and to attract him hither. Toward the end of May, Payne left for the East, taking with him a first-class stereopticon and nearly a thousand lantern slides of the old wet-plate process, the views being the product of Payne's own skill and labor.

For some time prior to 1876, the suitable observance here of the anniversary of the Nation's independence had been frequently discussed, and when James J. Ayers called a meeting of citizens in the County Court House, on the evening of April 29th, and another on May 6th, it was decided to celebrate the Fourth of July in a manner worthy of the occasion. Committees were appointed to arrange the details; and when the eventful day arrived, the largest throngs in the City's history assembled to give vent to their patriotism.

The procession—led by Grand Marshal H. M. Mitchell, assisted by Marshals Eugene Meyer, Francisco Guirado, John F. Godfrey and Otto von Ploennies, mounted on the best-groomed steeds of the Fashion Stables—formed towards ten o'clock and was half an hour in passing the corner of Temple, Spring and Main streets. The Woods Opera House Band, the Los Angeles Guard and the Los Angeles Rifleros assisted. The parade wended its tortuous way from the Aliso Mills in the northeast to the Round House in the south.

An interesting feature of the march was the division of Mexican War Veterans. Forty-two of these battle-scarred soldiers, a number of whom had become prominent in civic life, lined up, among them General George Stoneman, Captain William Turner, Dr. J. S. Griffin, Major Henry Hancock, S. C. Foster, John Schumacher, L. C. Goodwin, D. W. Alexander and A. W. Timms. Another feature worthy of note was the triumphal chariot of the French Benevolent Society, in which three young ladies represented respectively the Goddess of Liberty, France and America. Fire Engine Company No. 38, Confidence Engine Company No. 2 and the Hook and Ladder Company formed another division, followed by several societies and secret orders. In one float thirteen young ladies represented the thirteen original colonies and in another twenty-five damsels portrayed the rest of the States. There were also the Forty-niners, the butchers and the other tradesmen; while George and Martha Washington accompanied the Philadelphia Brewery!

For this local celebration of the Centennial, streets, public buildings, stores and private residences were beautifully decorated, portraits of Washington being everywhere. Hellman, Haas & Company, S. C. Foy, the Los Angeles Social Club and H. Newmark & Company were among those who especially observed the day. There was a triple arch on Main Street, with a center span thirty feet wide and thirty feet high, and statues of Washington, Grant and others. The railroad depots and trains were also fittingly adorned; and at the residence and grounds of Consular Agent Moerenhaut, the Stars and Stripes, with the French tricolor, were displayed under the legend, "Friends Since One Hundred Years." The Pico House was perhaps the most elegantly adorned, having a column, a flagstaff and a Liberty cap, with the enthusiastic legends: