<h2>CHAPTER XXV<br/> REMOVAL TO NEW YORK, AND RETURN<br/> 1867-1868</h2>
<p>The reader may already have noted that more than one
important move in my life has been decided upon with
but little previous deliberation. During August, 1866,
while on the way to a family picnic at La Ballona, my brother
suggested the advisability of opening an office for H. Newmark
& Company in New York; and so quickly had I expressed my
willingness to remove there that, when we reached the <i>rancho</i>, I
announced to my wife that we would leave for the East as soon
as we could get ready. Circumstances, however, delayed our
going a few months.</p>
<p>My family at this time consisted of my wife and four children;
and together on January 29th, 1867, we left San Pedro for
New York, by way of San Francisco and Panamá, experiencing
frightfully hot weather. Stopping at Acapulco, during Maximilian's
revolution, we were summarily warned to keep away
from the fort on the hill; while at Panamá yellow fever, spread
by travelers recently arrived from South America, caused the
Captain to beat a hasty retreat. Sailing on the steamer <i>Henry
Chancey</i> from Aspinwall, we arrived at New York on the sixth
of March; and having domiciled my family comfortably, my
next care was to establish an office on the third floor at 31 and
33 Broadway, placing it in charge of M. J. Newmark, who
had preceded me to the metropolis a year before. In a short
time, I bought a home on Forty-ninth Street, between Sixth
and Seventh avenues, then an agreeable residence district. An
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_360" id="Page_360">360</SPAN></span>
intense longing to see my old home next induced me to return
to Europe, and I sailed on May 16th for Havre on the steam-propeller
<i>Union</i>; the band playing <i>The Highland Fling</i> as the
vessel left the pier. In mid-ocean, the ship's propeller broke,
and she completed the voyage under sail. Three months later,
I returned on the <i>Russia</i>. The recollection of this journey
gives me real satisfaction; for had I not taken it then, I should
never again have seen my father. On the twenty-first of the
following November, or a few months after I last bade him
good-bye, he died at Loebau, in the seventy-fifth year of his
age. My mother had died in the summer of 1859.</p>
<p>It was during this visit that, tarrying for a week in the
brilliant French capital, I saw the Paris Exposition, housed
to a large extent in one immense building in the Champ de
Mars. I was wonderfully impressed with both the city and the
fair, as well as with the enterprising and artistic French people
who had created it, although I was somewhat disappointed
that, of the fifty thousand or more exhibitors represented, but
seven hundred were Americans.</p>
<p>One little incident may be worth relating. While I was
standing in the midst of the machinery one day, the <i>gendarmes</i>
suddenly began to force the crowd back, and on retreating with
the rest, I saw a group of ladies and gentlemen approaching.
It was soon whispered that they were the Empress Eugénie
and her suite, and that we had been commanded to retire in
order to permit her Majesty to get a better view of a new railroad
coach that she desired to inspect.</p>
<p>Not long ago I was reading of a trying ordeal in the life
of Elihu B. Washburne, American Minister to France, who,
having unluckily removed his shoe at a Court dinner, was
compelled to rise with the company on the sudden appearance
of royalty, and to step back with a stockinged foot! The
incident recalled an experience of my own in London. I had
ordered from a certain shoemaker in Berlin a pair of patent-leather
gaiters which I wore for the first time when I went to
Covent Garden with an old friend and his wife. It was a very
warm evening and the performance had not progressed far
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_361" id="Page_361">361</SPAN></span>
before it became evident that the shoes were too small. I was,
in fact, nearly overcome with pain, and in my desperation
removed the gaiters (when the lights were low), quietly shoved
them under the seat and sat out the rest of the performance
with a fair degree of comfort and composure. Imagine my
consternation, however, when I sought to put the shoes on
again and found the operation almost impossible! The
curtain fell while I was explaining and apologizing to my
friends; and nearly every light was extinguished before I was
ready to emerge from the famous opera house and limp to a
waiting carriage.</p>
<p>A trifling event also lingers among the memories of this
revisit to my native place. While journeying towards Loebau
in a stage, I happened to mention that I had married since
settling in America; whereupon one of my fellow-passengers
inquired whether my wife was white, brown or black?</p>
<p>Major Ben C. Truman was President Johnson's private
secretary until he was appointed, in 1866, special agent for the
Post Office department on the Pacific Coast. He came to Los
Angeles in February, 1867, to look after postal matters in
Southern California and Arizona, but more particularly to
reëstablish, between Los Angeles and points in New Mexico, the
old Butterfield Route which had been discontinued on account
of the War. Truman opened post offices at a number of places
in Los Angeles County. On December 8th, 1869, the Major
married Miss Augusta Mallard, daughter of Judge J. S.
Mallard. From July, 1873, until the late summer of 1877, he
controlled the Los Angeles <i>Star</i>, contributing to its columns
many excellent sketches of early life in Southern California,
some of which were incorporated in one or more substantial
volumes; and of all the pioneer journalists here, it is probable
that none have surpassed this affable gentleman in brilliancy
and genial, kindly touch. Among Truman's books is an illustrated
work entitled <i>Semi-Tropical California</i>, dedicated, with
a <i>Dominus vobiscum</i>, to Phineas Banning and published in
San Francisco, 1874; while another volume, issued seven years
later, is devoted to <i>Occidental Sketches</i>.
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_362" id="Page_362">362</SPAN></span></p>
<p>A fire, starting in Bell's Block on Los Angeles Street, on
July 13th, during my absence from the city, destroyed property
to the value of sixty-four thousand dollars; and the same
season, S. Lazard & Company moved their dry goods store
from Bell's Row to Wolfskill's building on Main Street, opposite
the Bella Union hotel.</p>
<p>Germain Pellissier, a Frenchman from the Hautes-Alpes,
came to Los Angeles in August, and for twenty-eight years
lived at what is now the corner of Seventh and Olive streets.
Then the land was in the country; but by 1888, Pellissier had
built the block that bears his name. On settling here, Pellissier
went into sheep-raising, scattering stock in Kern and Ventura
counties, and importing sheep from France and Australia in
order to improve his breed; and from one ram alone in a year,
as he demonstrated to some doubting challengers, he clipped
sixty-two and a half pounds of wool.</p>
<p>P. Beaudry began to invest in hill property in 1867, at once
improving the steep hillside of New High Street, near Sonora
Town, which he bought in, at sheriff's sale, for fifty-five dollars.
Afterward, Beaudry purchased some twenty acres between
Second, Fourth, Charity and Hill streets, for which he paid
five hundred and seventeen dollars; and when he had subdivided
this into eighty lots, he cleared about thirty thousand dollars.
Thirty-nine acres, between Fourth and Sixth, and Pearl and
Charity streets, he finally disposed of at a profit, it is said, of
over fifty thousand dollars.</p>
<p>John G. Downey having subdivided Nieto's <i>rancho</i>, Santa
Gertrudis, the little town of Downey, which he named, soon
enjoyed such a boom that sleepy Los Angeles began to sit up
and take notice. Among the early residents was E. M. Sanford,
a son-in-law of General John W. Gordon, of Georgia. A short
time before the founding of Downey, a small place named
Galatin had been started near by, but the flood of 1868 caused
our otherwise dry rivers to change their courses, and Galatin was
washed away. This subdividing at once stimulated the coming
of land and home-seekers, increased the spirit of enterprise
and brought money into circulation.
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_363" id="Page_363">363</SPAN></span></p>
<p>Soon afterward, Phineas Banning renewed the agitation to
connect Los Angeles with Wilmington by rail. He petitioned
the County to assist the enterprise, but the larger taxpayers,
backed by the over-conservative farmers, still opposed
the scheme, tooth and nail, until it finally took all of Banning's
influence to carry the project through to a successful
termination.</p>
<p>George S. Patton, whose father, Colonel Patton of the
Confederate Army, was killed at Winchester, September 19th,
1864, is a nephew of Andrew Glassell and the oldest of
four children who came to Los Angeles with their mother
and her father, Andrew Glassell, Sr., in 1867. Educated in
the public schools of Los Angeles, Patton afterward attended
the Virginia Military Institute, where Stonewall Jackson
had been a professor, returning to Los Angeles in September,
1877, when he entered the law firm of Glassell, Smith &
Patton. In 1884, he married Miss Ruth, youngest daughter
of B. D. Wilson, after which he retired to private life. One of
Patton's sisters married Tom Brown; another sister became the
wife of the popular physician, Dr. W. Le Moyne Wills. In
1871, his mother, relict of Colonel George S. Patton, married
her kinsman, Colonel George H. Smith.</p>
<p>John Moran, Sr., conducted a vineyard on San Pedro Street
near the present Ninth, in addition to which he initiated the
soda-water business here, selling his product at twenty-five
cents a bottle. Soda water, however, was too "soft" a drink
to find much favor and little was done to establish the trade
on a firm basis until 1867, when H. W. Stoll, a German, drove
from Colorado to California and organized the Los Angeles Soda
Water Works. As soon as he began to manufacture the
aerated beverages, Stevens & Wood set up the first soda-water
fountain in Los Angeles, on North Spring Street near
the Post Office. After that, bubbling water and strangely-colored
syrups gained in popularity until, in 1876, quite an
expensive fountain was purchased by Preuss & Pironi's drug
store, on Spring Street opposite Court. And what is more,
they brought in hogsheads from Saratoga what would be difficult
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_364" id="Page_364">364</SPAN></span>
to find in all Los Angeles to-day: Congress, Vichy and
Kissingen waters. Stoll, by the way, in 1873, married Fräulein
Louisa Behn, daughter of John Behn.</p>
<p>An important industry of the late sixties and early seventies
was the harvesting of castor beans, then growing wild along the
<i>zanjas</i>. They were shipped to San Francisco for manufacturing
purposes, the oil factories there both supplying the ranchmen
with seed and pledging themselves to take the harvest when
gathered. In 1867, a small castor-oil mill was set up here.</p>
<p>The <i>chilicothe</i>—derived, according to Charles F. Lummis,
from the Aztec, <i>chilacayote</i>, the wild cucumber, or <i>echinocystes
fabacea</i>—is the name of a plaything supplied by diversified nature,
which grew on large vines, especially along the slope
leading down to the river on what is now Elysian Park, and in
the neighborhood of the hills adjacent to the Mallard and
Nichols places. Four or five of these <i>chilicothes</i>, each shaped
much like an irregular marble, came in a small burr or gourd;
and to secure them for games, the youngsters risked limb,
if not life, among the trees and rocks. Small circular holes
were sometimes cut into the nuts; and after the meat, which
was not edible, had been extracted, the empty shells were
strung together like beads and presented, as necklaces and
bracelets, to sisters and sweethearts.</p>
<p>Just about the time when I first gazed upon the scattered
houses of our little pueblo, the Pacific Railway Expedition, sent
out from Washington, prepared and published a tinted lithograph
sketch of Los Angeles, now rather rare. In 1867, Stephen
A. Rendall, an Englishman of Angora goat fame, who had been
here, off and on, as a photographer, devised one of the first
large panoramas of Los Angeles, which he sold by advance
subscription. It was made in sections; and as the only view
of that year extant, it also has become notable as an historical
souvenir.</p>
<p>Surrounded by his somewhat pretentious gallery and his
mysterious darkroom on the top floor of Temple's new block,
V. Wolfenstein also took good, bad and indifferent photographs,
having arrived here, perhaps, in the late sixties, and
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_365" id="Page_365">365</SPAN></span>
remaining a decade or more, until his return to his native
Stockholm where I again met him. He operated with slow
wet-plates, and pioneers will remember the inconvenience,
almost tantamount to torture, to which the patron was subjected
in sitting out an exposure. The children of pioneers,
too, will recall his magic, revolving stereoscope, filled with
fascinating views at which one peeped through magnifying
glasses.</p>
<p>Louis Lewin must have arrived here in the late sixties.
Subsequently, he bought out the stationery business of W. J.
Brodrick, and P. Lazarus, upon his arrival from Tucson in 1874,
entered into partnership with him; Samuel Hellman, as was
not generally known at the time, also having an interest in the
firm which was styled Louis Lewin & Company. When the
Centennial of the United States was celebrated here in 1876, a
committee wrote a short historical sketch of Los Angeles; and
this was published by Lewin & Company. Now the firm is known
as the Lazarus Stationery Company, P. Lazarus<SPAN name="FNanchor_28" id="FNanchor_28" href="#Footnote_28" class="fnanchor">[28]</SPAN> being President.
Lewin and Lazarus married into families of pioneers:
Mrs. Lewin is a daughter of S. Lazard, while Mrs. Lazarus is a
daughter of M. Kremer. Lewin died at Manilla on April 5th,
1905.</p>
<p>On November 18th, the Common Council contracted with
Jean Louis Sainsevain to lay some five thousand feet of two- and
three-inch iron pipe at a cost of about six thousand dollars
in scrip; but the great flood of that winter caused Sainsevain so
many failures and losses that he transferred his lease, in the
spring or summer of 1868, to Dr. J. S. Griffin, Prudent Beaudry,
and Solomon Lazard, who completed Sainsevain's contract
with the City.</p>
<p>Dr. Griffin and his associates then proposed to lease the
water-works from the City for a term of fifty years, but soon
changed this to an offer to buy. When the matter came up
before the Council for adoption, there was a tie vote, whereupon
Murray Morrison, just before resigning as President of
the Council, voted in the affirmative, his last official act being
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_366" id="Page_366">366</SPAN></span>
to sign the franchise. Mayor Aguilar, however, vetoed the
ordinance, and then Dr. Griffin and his colleagues came forward
with a new proposition. This was to lease the works for a
period of thirty years, and to pay fifteen hundred dollars a year
in addition to performing certain things promised in the preceding
proposition.</p>
<p>At this stage of the negotiations, John Jones made a
rival offer, and P. McFadden, who had been an unsuccessful
bidder for the Sainsevain lease, tried with Juan Bernard
to enter into a twenty-year contract. Notwithstanding these
other offers, however, the City authorities thought it best,
on July 22d, 1868, to vote the franchise to Dr. Griffin, S.
Lazard and P. Beaudry, who soon transferred their thirty-year
privileges to a corporation known as the Los Angeles City
Water Company, in which they became trustees. Others
associated in this enterprise were Eugene Meyer, I. W. Hellman,
J. G. Downey, A. J. King, Stephen Hathaway Mott—Tom's
brother—W. H. Perry and Charles Lafoon. A spirited
fight followed the granting of the thirty-year lease, but the
water company came out victorious.</p>
<p>In the late sixties, when the only communities of much consequence
in Los Angeles County were Los Angeles, Anaheim
and Wilmington, the latter place and Anaheim Landing were
the shipping ports of Los Angeles, San Bernardino and Arizona.
At that time, or during some of the especially prosperous days
of Anaheim, the slough at Anaheim Landing (since filled up by
flood) was so formed, and of such depth, that heavily-loaded
vessels ran past the warehouse to a considerable distance inland,
and there unloaded their cargoes. At the same time the leading
Coast steamers began to stop there. Not many miles away
was the corn-producing settlement, Gospel Swamp.</p>
<p>I have pointed out the recurring weakness in the wooden
pipes laid by Sainsevain and Marchessault. This distressing
difficulty, causing, as it did, repeated losses and sharp criticism
by the public, has always been regarded as the motive for ex-Mayor
Marchessault's death on January 20th, when he committed
suicide in the old City Council room.
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_367" id="Page_367">367</SPAN></span></p>
<p>Jacob Loew arrived in America in 1865 and spent three
years in New York before he came to California in 1868. Clerking
for a while in San Francisco, he went to the Old Town of
San Diego, then to Galatin, and in 1872 settled in Downey;
and there, in conjunction with Jacob Baruch, afterward of
Haas, Baruch & Company, he conducted for years the principal
general merchandise business of that section. On coming to
Los Angeles in 1883, he bought, as I have said, the Deming
Mill now known as the Capitol Mills. Two years later, on the
second of August, he was married to my daughter Emily.</p>
<p>Dr. Joseph Kurtz, once a student at Giessen, arrived in Los
Angeles on February 3d, with a record for hospital service at
Baltimore during the Civil War, having been induced to come
here by the druggist, Adolf Junge, with whom for a while he had
some association. Still later he joined Dr. Rudolph Eichler in
conducting a pharmacy. For some time prior to his graduation
in medicine, in 1872, Dr. Kurtz had an office in the Lanfranco
Building. For many years, he was surgeon to the Southern
Pacific Railroad Company and consulting physician to the
Santa Fé Railroad Company, and he also served as President
of the Los Angeles College Clinical Association. I shall have
further occasion to refer to this good friend. Dr. Carl Kurtz
is distinguishing himself in the profession of his father.</p>
<p>Hale fellow well met and always in favor with a large circle,
was my Teutonic friend, Lewis Ebinger, who, after coming
to Los Angeles in 1868, turned clay into bricks. Perhaps this
also recalled the days of his childhood when he made pies of the
same material; but be that as it may, Lewis in the early
seventies made his first venture in the bakery business, opening
shop on North Spring Street. In the bustling Boom days
when real estate men saw naught but the sugar-coating,
Ebinger, who had moved to elaborate quarters in a building at
the southwest corner of Spring and Third streets, was dispensing
cream puffs and other baked delicacies to an enthusiastic
and unusually large clientele. But since everybody then
had money, or thought that he had, one such place was not
enough to satisfy the ravenous speculators; with the result
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_368" id="Page_368">368</SPAN></span>
that John Koster was soon conducting a similar establishment
on Spring Street near Second, while farther north, on Spring
Street near First, the Vienna Bakery ran both Lewis and John
a merry race.</p>
<p>Dr. L. W. French, one of the organizers of the Odontological
Society of Southern California, also came to Los Angeles in 1868—so
early that he found but a couple of itinerant dentists, who
made their headquarters here for a part of the year and then
hung out their shingles in other towns or at remote ranches.</p>
<p>One day in the spring of 1868, while I was residing in New
York City, I received a letter from Phineas Banning, accompanied
by a sealed communication, and reading about as follows:</p>
<div class="blockquot">
<p><span class="smcap">Dear Harris</span>:</p>
<p>Herewith I enclose to you a letter of the greatest importance,
addressed to Miss Mary Hollister (daughter, as you
know, of Colonel John H. Hollister), who will soon be on her
way to New York, and who may be expected to arrive there by
the next steamer.</p>
<p>This letter I beg you to deliver to Miss Hollister personally,
immediately upon her arrival in New York, thereby obliging</p>
<p class="left45">Yours obediently,</p>
<p class="left65">(Signed) <span class="smcap">Phineas Banning</span>.</p>
</div>
<p>The steamer referred to had not yet arrived, and I lost
no time in arranging that I should be informed, by the company's
agents, of the vessel's approach, as soon as it was sighted.
This notification came, by the by, through a telegram received
before daylight one bitterly cold morning, when I was told that
the ship would soon be at the dock; and as quickly as I could,
I procured a carriage, hastened to the wharf and, before any
passengers had landed, boarded the vessel. There I sought
out Miss Hollister, a charming lady, and gave her the
mysterious missive.</p>
<p>I thought no more of this matter until I returned to Los
Angeles when, welcoming me back, Banning told me that the
letter I had had the honor to deliver aboard ship in New York
contained nothing less than a proposal of marriage, his solicitation
of Miss Hollister's heart and hand!
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_369" id="Page_369">369</SPAN></span></p>
<p>One reason why the Bella Union played such an important
<i>rôle</i> in the early days of Los Angeles, was because there was no
such thing as a high-class restaurant; indeed, the first recollection
I have of anything like a satisfactory place is that of Louis
Vielle, known by some as French Louis and nicknamed by
others Louis <i>Gordo</i>, or Louis the Fat. Vielle came to Los
Angeles from Mexico, a fat, jolly little French caterer, not
much over five feet in height and weighing, I should judge,
two hundred and fifty pounds; and this great bulk, supported
as it was by two peg-like legs, rendered his appearance truly
comical. His blue eyes, light hair and very rosy cheeks accentuated
his ludicrous figure. Louis, who must have been about
fifty-four years of age when I first met him, then conducted his
establishment in John Lanfranco's building on Main Street,
between Commercial and Requena; from which fact the place
was known as the Lanfranco, although it subsequently received
the more suggestive title, the What Cheer House. Louis was
an acknowledged expert in his art, but he did not always choose
to exert himself. Nevertheless his lunches, for which he
charged fifty or seventy-five cents, according to the number of
dishes served, were well thought of, and it is certain that Los
Angeles had never had so good a restaurant before. At one
time, our caterer's partner was a man named Frederico Guiol,
whom he later bought out. Louis could never master the
English language, and to his last day spoke with a strong
French accent. His florid cheeks were due to the enormous
quantity of claret consumed both at and between meals. He
would mix it with soup, dip his bread into it and otherwise
absorb it in large quantities. Indeed, at the time of his fatal
illness, while he was living with the family of Don Louis Sainsevain,
it was assumed that over-indulgence in wine was the
cause. Be that as it may, he sickened and died, passing away
at the Lanfranco home in 1872. Vielle had prospered, but
during his sickness he spent largely of his means. After his
death, it was discovered that he had been in the habit of hiding
his coin in little niches in the wall of his room and in other
secret places; and only a small amount of the money was found.
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_370" id="Page_370">370</SPAN></span>
A few of the real pioneers recollect Louis <i>Gordo</i> as one who
added somewhat to the comfort of those who then patronized
restaurants; while others will associate him with the introduction
here of the first French dolls, to take the place of rag-babies.</p>
<p>Both Judge Robert Maclay Widney and Dr. Joseph P.
Widney, the surgeon, took up their residence in Los Angeles in
1868. R. M. Widney set out from Ohio about 1855 and, having
spent two years in exploring the Rockies, worked for a while in
the Sacramento Valley, where he chopped wood for a living, and
finally reached Los Angeles with a small trunk and about a
hundred dollars in cash. Here he opened a law and real-estate
office and started printing the <i>Real Estate Advertiser</i>. Dr.
Widney crossed the Continent in 1862, spent two years as surgeon
in the United States Army in Arizona, after which he
proceeded to Los Angeles and soon became one of the charter
members of the Los Angeles Medical Society, exerting himself
in particular to extend Southern California's climatic fame.</p>
<p>I have spoken of the ice procured from the San Bernardino
mountains in rather early days, but I have not said that in
summer, when we most needed the cooling commodity, there
was none to be had. The enterprising firm of Queen & Gard,
the first to arrange for regular shipments of Truckee River ice
in large quantities by steamer from the North, announced their
purpose late in March, 1868, of building an ice house on Main
Street; and about the first of April they began delivering daily,
in a large and substantial wagon especially constructed for that
purpose and which, for the time being, was an object of much
curiosity. Liberal support was given the enterprise; and perhaps
it is no wonder that the perspiring editor of the <i>News</i>,
going into ecstasies because of a cooling sample or two deposited
in his office, said, in the next issue of his paper:</p>
<div class="blockquot">
<p>The founding of an ice depot is another step forward in the
progress that is to make us a great City. We have Water and
Gas, and now we are to have the additional luxury of Ice!</p>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"><SPAN name="i_436a" id="i_436a"></SPAN> <ANTIMG src="images/i_436a.jpg" width-obs="219" height-obs="316" alt="" /> <p class="caption">Dr. Truman H. Rose</p> </div>
<div class="figcenter"><SPAN name="i_436b" id="i_436b"></SPAN> <ANTIMG src="images/i_436b.jpg" width-obs="245" height-obs="330" alt="" /> <p class="caption">Dr. Vincent Gelcich</p> </div>
<div class="figcenter"><SPAN name="i_436c" id="i_436c"></SPAN> <ANTIMG src="images/i_436c.jpg" width-obs="227" height-obs="326" alt="" /> <p class="caption">Andrew Glassell</p> </div>
<div class="figcenter"><SPAN name="i_436d" id="i_436d"></SPAN> <ANTIMG src="images/i_436d.jpg" width-obs="228" height-obs="331" alt="" /> <p class="caption">Charles E. Miles, in Uniform of 38's</p> </div>
<div class="figcenter"><SPAN name="i_437a" id="i_437a"></SPAN> <ANTIMG src="images/i_437a.jpg" width-obs="453" height-obs="287" alt="" /> <p class="caption">Facsimile of Stock Certificate, Pioneer Oil Co.</p> </div>
<div class="figcenter"><SPAN name="i_437b" id="i_437b"></SPAN> <ANTIMG src="images/i_437b.jpg" width-obs="433" height-obs="355" alt="" /> <p class="caption">American Bakery, Jake Kuhrts's Building, about 1880</p> </div>
<p>Banning's fight for the Los Angeles & San Pedro Railroad
has been touched upon more than once. Tomlinson, his rival,
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_371" id="Page_371">371</SPAN></span>
opposed the project; but his sudden death, about two weeks
before the election in 1868, removed one of the serious obstacles.
When the vote was taken, on March 24th, as to whether the
City and County should bond themselves to encourage the building
of the railroad, seven hundred votes were cast in favor of,
and six hundred and seventy-two votes against, the undertaking,
leaving Banning and his associates ready to go ahead.
By the way, as a reminder of the quondam vogue of Spanish
here, it may be noted that the proclamation regarding the railroad,
published in 1868, was printed in both English and
Spanish.</p>
<p>On May 16th, Henry Hamilton, whose newspaper, the <i>Star</i>,
during part of the War period had been suspended through
the censorship of the National Government, again made his
bow to the Los Angeles public, this time in a half-facetious
leader in which he referred to the "late unpleasantness" in
the family circle. Hamilton's old-time vigor was immediately
recognized, but not his former disposition to attack and criticize.</p>
<p>Dr. H. S. Orme, once President of the State Board of Health
of California, arrived in Los Angeles on July 4th and soon
became as prominent in Masonic as in medical circles. Dr.
Harmon, an early successor to Drs. Griffin and Den, first settled
here in 1868, although he had previously visited California in
1853.</p>
<p>Carl Felix Heinzeman, at one time a well-known chemist and
druggist, emigrated from Germany in 1868 and came direct
to Los Angeles, where after succeeding J. B. Saunders & Company,
he continued, in the Lanfranco Building, what grew to be
the largest drug store south of San Francisco. Heinzeman died
on April 29th, 1903. About the same period, a popular apothecary
shop on Main Street, near the Plaza, was known as
Chevalier's. In the seventies, when hygiene and sanitation were
given more attention, a Welshman named Hughes conducted
a steam-bath establishment on Main Street, almost opposite
the Baker Block, and the first place of its kind in the city.</p>
<p>Charles F. Harper<SPAN name="FNanchor_29" id="FNanchor_29" href="#Footnote_29" class="fnanchor">[29]</SPAN> of Mississippi, and the father of ex-Mayor
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_372" id="Page_372">372</SPAN></span>
Harper, in 1868 opened with R. H. Dalton a hardware
store in the Allen Block, corner of Spring and Temple streets,
thus forerunning Coulter & Harper, Harper & Moore, Harper,
Reynolds & Company and the Harper-Reynolds Company.</p>
<p>Michel Lèvy, an Alsatian, arrived in San Francisco when
but seventeen years of age, and after various experiences in
California and Nevada towns, he came to Los Angeles in 1868,
soon establishing, with Joe Coblentz, the wholesale liquor house
of Lèvy & Coblentz. The latter left here in 1879, and Lèvy
continued under the firm name of M. Lèvy & Company until
his death in 1905.</p>
<p>Anastácio Cárdenas, a dwarf who weighed but one and
a half pounds when born, came to Los Angeles in 1867 and
soon appeared before the public as a singer and dancer. He
carried a sword and was popularly dubbed "General." A
brother, Ruperto, long lived here.</p>
<p>When the Canal & Reservoir Company was organized with
George Hansen as President and J. J. Warner as Secretary,
P. Beaudry contributed heavily to construct a twenty-foot dam
across the <i>cañon</i>, below the present site of Echo Park, and a
ditch leading down to Pearl Street. This first turned attention
to the possibilities in the hill-lands to the West; and in
return, the City gave to the company a large amount of land,
popularly designated as canal and reservoir property.</p>
<p>In 1868, when there was still not a three-story house in Los
Angeles, James Alvinza Hayward, a San Franciscan, joined
John G. Downey in providing one hundred thousand dollars with
which to open, in the old Downey Block on the site of the
Temple adobe, the first bank in Los Angeles, under the firm
name of Hayward & Company. The lack of business afforded
this enterprise short shrift and they soon retired. In July of
the same year, I. W. Hellman, William Workman, F. P. F.
Temple and James R. Toberman started a bank, with a capital
of one hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars, under the title
of Hellman, Temple & Company, Hellman becoming manager.</p>
<p>I do not remember when postal lock-boxes were first brought
into use, but I do recollect that in the late sixties Postmaster
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_373" id="Page_373">373</SPAN></span>
Clarke had a great deal of trouble collecting quarterly rents,
and that he finally gave notice that boxes held by delinquents
would thereafter be nailed up.</p>
<p>A year or two after the Burtons had established themselves
here, came another pedagogue in the person of W. B. Lawlor,
a thick-set, bearded man with a flushed complexion, who
opened a day-school called the Lawlor Institute; and after the
Burtons left here to settle at Portland, Oregon, where Burton
became headmaster of an academy for advanced students,
many of his former pupils attended Lawlor's school. The
two institutions proved quite different in type: the Burton
training had tended strongly to languages and literature, while
Lawlor, who was an adept at short-cut methods of calculation,
placed more stress on arithmetic and commercial education.
Burton, who returned to Los Angeles, has been for years a
leading member of the <i>Times</i> editorial staff, and <i>Burton's Book
on California and its Sunlit Skies</i> is one of this author's contributions
to Pacific Coast literature; his wife, however, died many
years ago. Lawlor, who was President of the Common Council
in 1880, is also dead.</p>
<p>The most popular piano-teacher of about that time was
Professor Van Gilpin.</p>
<p>William Pridham came to Los Angeles in August, having
been transferred from the San Francisco office of Wells Fargo
& Company, in whose service as pony rider, clerk at Austin,
Nevada, and at Sacramento, and cashier in the Northern metropolis
he had been for some ten years. Here he succeeded
Major J. R. Toberman, when the latter, after long service,
resigned; and with a single office-boy, at one time little Joe
Binford, he handled all the business committed to the company's
charge. John Osborn was the outside expressman.
Then most of the heavy express matter from San Francisco was
carried by steamers, but letters and limited packages of moment
were sent by stage. With the advent of railroads, Pridham
was appointed by Wells Fargo & Company Superintendent of
the Los Angeles district. On June 12th, 1880, he married Miss
Mary Esther, daughter of Colonel John O. Wheeler, and later
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_374" id="Page_374">374</SPAN></span>
moved to Alameda. Now, after fifty-one years of association
with the express business, Pridham still continues to be
officially connected with the Wells Fargo company.</p>
<p>Speaking of that great organization, reminds me that it conducted
for years a mail-carrying business. Three-cent stamped
envelopes, imprinted with Wells Fargo & Company's name,
were sold to their patrons for ten cents each; and to compensate
for this bonus, the Company delivered the letters entrusted
to them perhaps one to two hours sooner than did the
Government.</p>
<p>This recalls to me a familiar experience on the arrival of the
mail from the North. Before the inauguration of a stage-line,
the best time in the transmission of mail matter between San
Francisco and Los Angeles was made by water, and Wells
Fargo messengers sailed with the steamers. Immediately upon
the arrival of the boat at San Pedro, the messenger boarded
the stage, and as soon as he reached Los Angeles, pressed on
to the office of the Company, near the Bella Union, where he
delivered his bagful of letters. The steamer generally got in by
five o'clock in the morning; and many a time, about seven,
have I climbed Signal or Pound Cake Hill—higher in those days
than now, and affording in clear weather a view of both ocean
and the smoke of the steamer—upon whose summit stood a
house, used as a signal station, and there watched for the rival
stages, the approach of which was indicated by clouds of dust.
I would then hurry with many others to the Express Company's
office where, as soon as the bag was emptied, we would all help
ourselves unceremoniously to the mail.</p>
<p>In August, General Edward Bouton, a Northern Army
officer, came to Los Angeles and soon had a sheep ranch on
Boyle Heights—a section then containing but two houses; and
two years later he camped where Whittier now lies. In 1874, he
bought land for pasture in the San Jacinto Valley, and for
years owned the ocean front at Alamitos Bay from Devil's Gate
to the Inlet, boring artesian wells there north of Long Beach.</p>
<p>Louis Robidoux, who had continued to prosper as a <i>ranchero</i>,
died in 1868 at the age of seventy-seven years.
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_375" id="Page_375">375</SPAN></span></p>
<p>With the usual flourish of spades, if not of trumpets, ground
was broken for the Los Angeles & San Pedro Railroad at
Wilmington on September 19th, and toward the end of
November, the rails had been laid about a mile out from
Wilmington.</p>
<p>The last contract for carrying the Overland Mail was given
to Wells Fargo & Company on October 1st and pledged a
round remuneration of one million, seven hundred and fifty
thousand dollars per annum, while it also permitted passengers
and freight to be transported; but the Company came to have a
great deal of competition. Phineas Banning, for example, had
a stage-line between Los Angeles and Yuma, in addition to which
mail and passengers were carried in buckboards, large wagons
and jerkies. Moreover there was another stage-line between
Tucson and El Paso, and rival stage-lines between El Paso and
St. Louis; and in consequence, the Butterfield service was
finally abandoned.</p>
<p>This American vehicle, by the by, the jerky, was so named
for the very good reason that, as the wagon was built without
springs, it <i>jerked</i> the rider around unmercifully. Boards were
laid across the wagon-box or bed for seats, accommodating
four passengers; and some space was provided in the back for
baggage. To maintain one's position in the bumping, squeaking
vehicle at all, was difficult; while to keep one's place on the
seat approached the impossible.</p>
<p>Of the various Los Angeles roadways in 1868, West
Sixth Street was most important in its relation to travel.
Along this highway the daily Overland stages entered and
departed from the city; and by this route came all the Havilah,
Lone Pine, Soledad and Owens River trade, as well as that of
the Ballona and Ciénega districts. Sixth Street also led to the
Fair Grounds, and over its none too even surface dashed most
of the sports and gallants on their way to the race course.</p>
<p>I have said that I returned to New York, in 1867, presumably
for permanent residence. Soon after I left Los Angeles,
however, Samuel Cohn became desperately ill, and the sole
management of H. Newmark & Company suddenly devolved
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_376" id="Page_376">376</SPAN></span>
on Sam's brother Kaspare. This condition of affairs grew so
bad that my return to Los Angeles became imperative. Accordingly,
leaving my family, I took passage on October 31st,
1868, for San Francisco, and returned to Los Angeles without
delay. Then I wired my wife to start with the children for the
Coast, and to have the furniture, including a Chickering grand
piano, just purchased, shipped after them; and when they
arrived, we once more took possession of the good old adobe
on Main Street, where we lived contentedly until 1874. This
piano, by the way, which came by freight around Cape Horn,
was one of the first instruments of the kind seen here, John
Schumacher having previously bought one. While we were
living in New York, Edward J. Newmark, my wife's brother,
died here on February 17th, 1868.</p>
<p>Before I left for New York, hardly anything had been done,
in subdividing property, save perhaps by the Lugos and
Downey, and at Anaheim and Wilmington. During the time
that I was away, however, newspapers and letters from home
indicated the changes going on here; and I recall what an
impression all this made upon me. On my way down from
San Francisco on Captain Johnson's <i>Orizaba</i> in December—about
the same time that the now familiar locomotive <i>San
Gabriel</i> reached Wilmington—land-agents were active and
people were talking a great deal about these subdivisions; and
by the time I reached Los Angeles I, too, was considerably
stirred up over the innovations and as soon as possible
after my return hastened out to see the change. The improvements
were quite noticeable, and among other alterations
surprising me were the houses people had begun to build on the
approaches to the western hills. I was also to learn that
there was a general demand for property all over the city,
Colonel Charles H. Larrabee, City Attorney in 1868, especially
having bought several hundred feet on Spring and Fort streets.
Later, I heard of the experiences of other Angeleños aboard
ship who were deluged with circulars advertising prospective
towns.</p>
<p>To show the provincial character of Los Angeles fifty years
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_377" id="Page_377">377</SPAN></span>
ago, I will add an anecdote or two. While I was in New York,
members of my family reported by letter, as a matter of extraordinary
interest, the novelty of a silver name-plate on a
neighboring front door; and when I was taken to inspect it, a
year later, I saw the legend, still novel:</p>
<div class="blockquot">
<p class="center">
Mr. and Mrs. Eugene Meyer</p>
</div>
<p>In the metropolis I had found finger-bowls in common use,
and having brought back with me such a supply as my family
would be likely to need, I discovered that it had actually fallen
to my lot to introduce these desirable conveniences into Los
Angeles.</p>
<p>William Ferguson was an arrival of 1868, having come
to settle up the business of a brother and remaining to open a
livery stable on North Main Street near the Plaza, which he
conducted for ten years. Investing in water company stock,
Ferguson abandoned his stable to make water-pipes, a couple
of years later, perhaps, than J. F. Holbrook had entered the
same field. Success enabled Ferguson to build a home at 303
South Hill Street, where he found himself the only resident
south of Third.</p>
<p>This manufacture here of water pipe recalls a cordial acquaintance
with William Lacy, Sr., an Englishman, who was
interested with William Rowland in developing the Puente oil
fields. His sons, William, Jr., and Richard H., originators of
the Lacy Manufacturing Company, began making pipe and
tanks a quarter of a century ago.</p>
<p>C. R. Rinaldi started a furniture business here in 1868,
opening his store almost opposite the Stearns's home on North
Main Street. Before long he disposed of an interest to Charles
Dotter, and then, I think, sold out to I. W. Lord and moved to
the neighborhood of the San Fernando Mission. About the same
time, Sidney Lacey, who arrived in 1870 and was a popular
clerk with the pioneer carpet and wall-paper house of Smith
& Walter, commenced what was to be a long association with
this establishment. In 1876, C. H. Bradley bought out Lord,
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_378" id="Page_378">378</SPAN></span>
and the firm of Dotter & Bradley, so well known to householders
of forty years ago, came into existence. In 1884, H. H. Markham
(soon to be Congressman and then Governor of the State),
with General E. P. Johnson bought this concern and organized
the Los Angeles Furniture Company, whose affairs since 1910,
(when her husband died), have been conducted by the
President, Mrs. Katherine Fredericks.</p>
<p>Conrad Hafen, a German-Swiss, reached Los Angeles in
December, 1868, driving a six-horse team and battered wagon
with which he had braved the privations of Death Valley; and
soon he rented a little vineyard, two years later buying for the
same purpose considerable acreage on what is now Central
Avenue. Rewarded for his husbandry with some affluence,
Hafen built both the old Hafen House and the new on South
Hill Street, once a favorite resort for German arrivals. He retired
in 1905.
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_379" id="Page_379">379</SPAN></span></p>
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