<h2>CHAPTER XXXV<br/> THE REVIVAL OF THE SOUTHLAND<br/> 1877-1880</h2>
<p>The late seventies were marked by an encouraging awakening
of national energy and a growing desire on the part
of the Angeleño, notwithstanding the excessive local
dullness, to bring the outside world a pace or two nearer; as a
result of which, things began to simmer, while there was an
unmistakable manifestation on the part of those at places
more or less remote to explore the almost unknown Southwest,
especially that portion bordering on the Pacific.</p>
<p>I have already noted, with varying dates, the time when
patents to land were issued. These dates remind me of the
long years during which some of the ranch owners had to wait
before they received a clear title to their vast estates. Although,
as I have said, the Land Commission was in session
during the first decade of my residence here, it was a quarter
of a century and more, in some cases, after the Commissioners
had completed their reports before the Washington authorities
issued the desired patents confirming the Mexican grants;
and by that time, not a few of those who had owned the ranches
at the beginning of the American occupancy were dead and
buried.</p>
<p>William Mulholland, who was really trained for navigation
and had followed the sea for four or five years, steered for Los
Angeles in 1877 and associated himself with the Los Angeles
Water Company, giving his attention especially to hydraulic
engineering and passing as it were in 1902, with the rest of
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_510" id="Page_510">510</SPAN></span>
the water-plant, to the City when it bought the Company
out.</p>
<p>On March 22d, the Common Council changed the name
of Nigger Alley, in the adobe days known as Calle de los Negros,
to that of Los Angeles Street; and thus faded away a designation
of Los Angeles' early gambling district long familiar to
old settlers. The same year, the City marshalship, which J.
J. Carrillo had held during 1875-76, was discontinued, and J. F.
Gerkins was appointed the first Chief of Police.</p>
<p>Part of the property included in the blanket mortgage
given by Temple & Workman to E. J. Baldwin was Temple
Block; and when this was sold at sheriff's sale in 1877, H. Newmark
& Company decided to acquire it if they could. Dan
Freeman, acting for Baldwin, was our only competitor;
and after a somewhat spirited contest, the property was
knocked down to us. In 1909, we sold Temple Block to the
City of Los Angeles. Quite a large contribution of money was
then made by adjoining landowners, with the understanding
that the site would form the nucleus for a civic center; but thus
far this solemn promise remains unfulfilled—more's the shame,
especially since the obligation is precisely coincidental with the
City's needs.</p>
<p>In 1877, Colonel R. S. Baker erected the block bearing
his name on the site of the historic adobe home of Don
Abel Stearns, the walls of which structure, when demolished,
killed two of the workmen. This building, the most modern
of that period, immediately became the scene of much
retail activity; and three wide-awake merchants—Eugène Germain,
George D. Rowan and Rev. B. F. Coulter—moved into
it. Germain was the first of these to arrive in Los Angeles,
coming in 1870 and, soon after, establishing several trading
posts along the line of the Southern Pacific during its construction
through Arizona. One day, while inspecting branches
in this wild and woolly region, Germain ran into a party of
cowboys who were out gunning; and just for a little diversion,
they took to peppering the vicinity of his feet, which attention
persuaded him into a high-step less graceful than alert. Germain
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_511" id="Page_511">511</SPAN></span>
came to occupy many positions of trust, being appointed,
in 1889, Commissioner from California to the Paris Exposition,
and later American Consul at Zurich, Switzerland. Next among
the tenants was George D. Rowan, who opened a grocery store
in the Strelitz Block, opposite the old Jail, remaining there
until the completion of Baker's building; thus supplying another
illustration of the tendency then predominating to gravitate
toward the extreme northern end of the town. In several
enterprises, Rowan was a pioneer: he brought from Chicago
the first phaeton seen on our streets; and in conjunction with
Germain, he inaugurated the shipping of California products,
in carload lots, to the Eastern market. He was also one of
the first to use pennies here. Withdrawing from the grocery
trade, in 1882, he busied himself with real estate until 1892,
when he retired. A public-spirited man, he had the greatest
confidence in the future of Los Angeles, and was instrumental
in subdividing much important acreage, including the block
between Sixth, Seventh, Hill and Olive streets, which he sold
in sixty-foot lots at prices as low as six hundred dollars each.
He was a prime mover in having the name of Fort Street altered
to that of Broadway, certainly a change of questionable propriety
considering the origin of the old name. Rowan died
on September 7th, 1901. His sons, R. A. and P. D. Rowan,
constitute the firm of R. A. Rowan & Company. Reverend
Coulter, father of Frank M. Coulter,<SPAN name="FNanchor_35" id="FNanchor_35" href="#Footnote_35" class="fnanchor">[35]</SPAN> brought his family to
Los Angeles on September 17th, 1877, and after a short association
in the hardware firm of Harper & Coulter, he entered
the dry goods field as B. F. Coulter, now the Coulter
Dry Goods Company. In 1878, Coulter bought the woolen
mills on Pearl Street near Fifth. Coulter was a man of genial
temperament and great integrity; and I shall have occasion
to speak of him again.</p>
<p>R. F. Del Valle was born in December, 1854, at the Plaza
ancestral home, where, before the family's removal to Camulos
<i>rancho</i>, I frequently saw him playing when I attended the political
councils at his father's home. By the by, I believe that
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_512" id="Page_512">512</SPAN></span>
J. L. Brent had his law office there, which may account for
those gatherings. Del Valle's boyhood days were spent in and
around Los Angeles. He studied law in San Francisco and returned
to Los Angeles in 1877, a promising young orator and
attorney. Since that period he has been in public life practically
all of the time. For some time past he has been a member
of the Water Board. He has been frequently honored by
the Democratic party, especially in 1880, when as elector he
was instructed to vote for our former fellow-townsman, General
W. S. Hancock. In 1890, Del Valle married Mrs. Helen Caystile,
widow of Thomas Caystile and daughter of Caleb E. White,
a Pomona horticulturist and sheepman.</p>
<p>A murder case of the late seventies was notable on account of
the tragic fate of two indirect participants. On October 10th,
G. M. Waller, custodian of the land company's bath-house at
Santa Monica, detected Victor Fonck, who had been warned
to keep off the premises, in the act of erecting a private bath-house
on the beach, and shot him in the leg, from which
wound, after two days, Fonck died. In his defense, Waller
claimed that, as watchman, he was acting under orders from
E. S. Parker, the land company's agent. Waller was found
guilty of involuntary homicide and sentenced on January 25th,
1878, to one year in the Penitentiary. Parker, on the other
hand, was convicted of murder in the second degree, and on
March 8th was sentenced to ten years' imprisonment. This
severe and unexpected punishment caused a mental excitement
from which Parker soon died; and, but a few days later,
his broken-hearted wife fell dead.</p>
<p>Annual public fairs were centers of social life as late as the
middle of the seventies, one being held, about 1876 or 1877, in
the old Alameda Street depot, which, decorated with evergreens
and flowers, had been transformed into a veritable garden.
With succeeding years, these displays, for some time in Horticultural
Hall on Temple Street, came to be more and more
enchanting. Still later, one or more flower festivals were held
in Hazard's Pavilion on Fifth Street, near Olive, that of 1889
in particular attracting, in the phraseology of a local newspaper,
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_513" id="Page_513">513</SPAN></span>
"one of the largest and most brilliant gatherings in the history
of the city." It is indeed a pity that these charming exhibitions,
requiring but the mere bringing together of some of the
flowers so bountifully supplied us, have been abandoned.</p>
<p>On February 1st, 1878, twenty-three years after the Odd
Fellows first organized here, their newly-constructed hall in
the Oxarart Block at 108 North Spring Street was dedicated
with elaborate ceremonies.</p>
<p>About 1878, Captain George J. Clarke, who had been
Postmaster from 1866 to 1873, and who lived well out of town,
offered me sixty feet adjoining my home on Fort Street, a site
now occupied by the J. W. Robinson Company. He asked
one hundred dollars a foot for the Fort Street frontage alone,
but as only sixteen dollars a foot had been paid for the full
depth to Hill Street of the piece I already owned, I refused to
purchase; nor was I persuaded even when he threatened to
erect a livery stable next to my house.</p>
<p>Another item respecting land values, and how they impressed
me: in 1878, Nadeau purchased, for twenty thousand
dollars, the site of the Nadeau Hotel, whereupon I told him
that he was crazy; but later events proved him to have been a
better judge than I.</p>
<p>Sometime in the late seventies, Jerry Illich started a chop-house
on North Main Street and prospered so well that in time
he was able to open a larger and much finer establishment
which he called the Maison Dorée. This restaurant was one
of the best of the time, and became the <i>rendezvous</i> of men
about town. In 1896, Jerry moved again, this time to Third
Street opposite the Bradbury Block; and thither went with
him his customers of former days. When Illich died in
December, 1902, he had the finest restaurant in the city.</p>
<p>In April the Public Library was transferred to the care of
the City. In the beginning, as I have stated, a fee of five dollars
was charged to patrons; somewhat later, it is my recollection,
a legislative enactment permitted a small addition to the
tax-rate for the partial support of this worthy enterprise, and
this municipal assistance enabled the directors to carry the
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_514" id="Page_514">514</SPAN></span>
work along even though the annual membership fee was reduced
to four dollars, payable quarterly.</p>
<p>On September 25th, General John C. Frémont arrived in
Los Angeles on his way to Arizona, of which Territory he had
been appointed Governor; and accompanied by his wife and
daughter, he was driven at once to the St. Charles Hotel.
There, in response to a demonstration by the citizens, he referred
to the great changes which had taken place here during
his absence of thirty years. Two days later, General Frémont
and family left for Yuma, the explorer traveling that route
by means of the iron horse for the first time.</p>
<p>Benjamin Franklin Taylor, the lecturer and author, visited
Los Angeles, in 1878, and wrote the sympathetic book, <i>Between
the Gates</i>, full of just discrimination and hopeful views respecting
the Southland.</p>
<p>Some new ordinances regulating vegetable venders having
been passed in the winter of 1878-79, the Chinese peddlers went
on a strike, and for some time refused, to the inconvenience
of their dependent customers, to supply any truck-farm
products.</p>
<p>During the Postmastership of Colonel Isaac R. Dunkelberger,
the Post Office was moved, in 1879, to the Oxarart Block
on North Spring Street near First. There it continued for
eight years, contributing much toward making the neighborhood
an important commercial center.</p>
<p>M. J. Newmark, having sold to his partners his interest
in the firm of H. Newmark & Company, left Los Angeles, in
1879, for San Francisco, after building a residence on Spring
Street next to the southwest corner of Spring and Seventh and
adjoining the dwellings owned by Kaspare Cohn and M. A.
Newmark. Each of these houses stood on a sixty-foot lot; and
to protect themselves from possibly unpleasant neighbors, the
holders had bought the corner of Seventh and Spring streets for
four hundred and twenty-five dollars. On his departure, M. J.
Newmark committed his affairs to my care, desiring to dispose
of his place; and I offered it to I. N. Van Nuys for seven thousand
five hundred dollars, which represented the cost of the
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_515" id="Page_515">515</SPAN></span>
house alone. Times were quite hard in Los Angeles at this
period; and when Van Nuys said that he would give six
thousand five hundred dollars for it, I accepted his offer and
induced the owners to sell to him the corner lot for four hundred
and seventy-five dollars. This is the earlier history of
the corner now occupied by the I. N. Van Nuys Building, in
which the First National Bank conducts its affairs.</p>
<p>Long before there was any necessity for cutting Sixth Street
through, east of Main, George Kerckhoff (who, in 1879, had
brought his family from Indiana) bought the six acres formerly
belonging to the intrepid pioneer, J. J. Warner, and, in the midst
of this pretty orchard, built the home in which he continued to
reside until 1896, when he died. William G. Kerckhoff, a son,
came with his father and almost immediately engaged in the
lumber business with James Cuzner. An ordinary man might
have found this enterprise sufficient, especially as it expanded
with the building up of our Southland communities; but this
was not so with the younger Kerckhoff, who in 1892 entered
the ice business, after which effort, within ten years, he evolved
the San Gabriel Electric Company. Henry E. Huntington
then associated himself with this enterprise, somewhat later
buying that part of the Kerckhoff property on which the
Huntington Building, opposite the Kerckhoff, now stands;
and as a result of the working together of two such minds,
huge electrical enterprises culminated in the Pacific Light and
Power Company.</p>
<p>The year 1879 was tragic in my family. On the 20th of January,
our son Philip, only nine years of age, died of diphtheria;
and a trifle more than three weeks later, on February 11th,
Leo, a baby of three years, succumbed to the same treacherous
disease. Barely had the grave closed on the second, when
a daughter became seriously ill, and after her recovery, in a fit
of awful consternation we fled the plague-infected house and
the city, taking with us to San Francisco, Edward, a son of
five years. But alas! hardly had we returned to town, when
he also died, on March 17th, 1879.</p>
<p>In May, Judge R. M. Widney broached to the Rev. A. M.
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_516" id="Page_516">516</SPAN></span>
Hough, Rev. M. M. Bovard, E. F. Spence, Dr. J. P. Widney
and G. D. Compton his project for the first Protestant institution
of higher learning in Southern California; and meeting with
their encouragement, certain land in West Los Angeles, consisting
of three hundred and eight acres, was accepted in trust
as a gift from I. W. Hellman, J. G. Downey and O. W. Childs,
forty acres being later added. In 1880, the first building was
put up on Wesley Avenue; and on the sixth of October the college
was opened. Most of the projectors were Methodists; and
the institution, since known as the University of Southern California,
became a Methodist college. The beginning of the
institution has been odd: its first department of arts was built,
in 1883, at Ontario; while two years later its theological school
was opened at San Fernando. Recently, under the energetic
administration of President F. D. Bovard, the University has
made much progress.</p>
<p>A. B. Chapman, about 1879, joined C. T. Paul in opening
a hardware store at 12 Commercial Street, with a little tin-shop
opposite; and they soon introduced here the first gasoline
stoves, to which the insurance companies at once seriously
objected.</p>
<p>Probably the earliest Los Angeles newspaper published in
French was a weekly, <i>L'Union Nouvelle</i>, which commenced
in 1879 with P. Ganée as editor.</p>
<p>Exceeding the limits of animated editorial debate into which
the rival journalists had been drawn in the heated campaign of
1879, William A. Spalding, a reporter on the <i>Evening Express</i>,
waited for Joseph D. Lynch, the editor of the <i>Herald</i>, at about
eleven o'clock in the morning of August 16th, and peppered
away with a bull-dog pistol at his rival, as the latter, who had
just left the Pico House, was crossing Spring Street from Temple
Block to go to the <i>Herald</i> office. Lynch dropped his cane,
and fumbled for his shooting-iron; but by the time he could
return the fire, A. de Celis and other citizens had thrust themselves
forward, making it doubly perilous to shoot at all.
Spalding sent the bullet which wounded, not his adversary, but
a bystander, L. A. Major of Compton.
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_517" id="Page_517">517</SPAN></span></p>
<p>Colonel G. Wiley Wells arrived in 1879, after a Civil War
career in which his left arm was permanently crippled. He
also served as United States District Attorney in Mississippi,
where he prosecuted many of the Ku-Klux Klan, and as
United States Consul-General to China, where he had a varied
experience with men and affairs. With A. Brunson, he formed
the law partnership of Brunson & Wells, having offices in
the Baker Block. The next year, Bradner W. Lee, a nephew
of Wells, who had arrived here in 1879, was added to the firm.
After fifteen years' practice in the local courts, during which
time Wells became a noted figure, he retired to private life
at Santa Monica, disposing of his extensive law library,
consisting of some six thousand volumes, to his successors,
Works & Lee.</p>
<p>Henry Milner Mitchell, to whom I have referred as assisting
to run down Vasquez, reached Los Angeles by way of Nicaragua
in 1868, and was successively a surveyor, a reporter, a law
student and, finally, from 1878 to 1879, Sheriff. In 1879,
he was admitted to practice before the Supreme Court of
California, and in the same year, he married the eldest daughter
of Andrew Glassell. Eventually he met a very tragic death:
while hunting near the scene of Vasquez's capture, he was
shot by a friend who mistook him for a deer.</p>
<p>Colonel Henry Harrison Markham, a New Yorker, pitched
his tent in Los Angeles and Pasadena in 1879, and was elected to
Congress from the Sixth District, defeating R. F. Del Valle.
He succeeded in getting one hundred and fifty thousand dollars
for a public building and appropriations for Wilmington and
other harbors; and he also aided in establishing army headquarters
at Los Angeles for Arizona, New Mexico and Southern
California.</p>
<p>Carl Seligman left Germany for America in 1879 and spent
a year in San Francisco, after which he removed to Tucson,
Arizona. And there he remained, engaged in the wholesale
and retail grocery business until, on December 6th, 1885, he
married my daughter Ella, following which event he bought an
interest in the firm of M. A. Newmark & Company.
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_518" id="Page_518">518</SPAN></span></p>
<p>The early eighties witnessed a commercial development so
marked as to remind one of the proverbial grass that could be
heard to grow. During an entire century, business (centered,
like social life, more or less about the Plaza) had crawled southward
to First Street, a distance of but three or four blocks; and
now, in five or six years, trade passed First, extended along both
Main and Spring streets and reached almost to, or just beyond
Second. At this time, the Baker Block, at the corner of North
Main and Arcadia streets, which contained the first town
ticket-office of the Southern Pacific Railroad, was still the
center of the retail trade of Los Angeles.</p>
<p>And yet some idea of the backwardness of the city, even
then, may be obtained from the fact that, in 1880, on the
southwest corner of Spring and Second streets where the
Hollenbeck Hotel was later built, stood a horse corral; while
the old adobe on the lot at the corner of First and Spring
streets, which was torn down later to make room for the Hotel
Nadeau, was also still there.</p>
<p>Obadiah Truax Barker settled in Los Angeles in 1880 and,
with Otto Mueller, started a furniture and carpet business,
known as Barker & Mueller's, at 113 North Spring Street.
Strange as it seems, however, the newcomers found themselves
too far from the business district; and, on Mueller's retiring,
O. T. Barker & Sons moved to a store near the Pico House.
Now the firm is Barker Brothers.</p>
<p>In fond recollection, the homely cheerfulness of the old-time
adobe recurs again and again. The eighties, however,
were characterized by another form of dwelling, fashionable
and popular; some examples of which, half-ruined, are still to
be seen. This was the frame house, large and spacious with
wide, high, curving verandas, semicircular bay-windows, towers
and cupolas. Flower-bordered lawns generally encircled these
residences; there were long, narrow hallways and more spare
bedrooms than the less intimate hospitality of to-day suggests
or demands.</p>
<p>On January 1st, 1880, the District Court of Los Angeles was
abolished to give way to the County Court; on which occasion
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_519" id="Page_519">519</SPAN></span>
Don Ygnácio Sepúlveda, the last of the District Court judges,
became the first County Judge.</p>
<p>The first cement pavement in the city was laid on Main
Street north of First by a man named Floyd. Having
bought Temple Block, we were thinking of surrounding it
with a wooden sidewalk. Floyd recommended cement, asking
me, at the same time, to inspect a bit of pavement which he
had just put down. I did so, and took his advice; and from this
small beginning has developed the excellent system of paving
now enjoyed by Los Angeles.</p>
<p>In 1880, there visited Southern California a man who not
only had a varied and most interesting past, but who was
destined to have an important future. This was Abbot
Kinney, a blood relation of Emerson, Holmes and old General
Harrison, and a student of law and medicine, commission merchant,
a botanical expert, cigarette manufacturer and member
of the United States Geological Survey; a man, too, who had
traveled through, and lived long in Europe, Asia and Africa;
and who, after seeing most of our own Northwest, was on his
way to settle in Florida in search of health. While in San
Francisco he heard of the recently-formed Sierra Madre
Colony, whither he made haste to go; and after a month or
two there, he liked it so well that he decided to remain on the
gentle slope, found there a home and lay out a farm. At that
time we had a customer by the name of Seabury, who owned
one hundred and sixty acres along the foothills; and this land
he had mortgaged to us to secure a note. When Kinney came,
he bought a place adjoining Seabury's, and this led him to
take over the mortgage. In due season, he foreclosed and
added the land to his beautiful property, which he named
<i>Kinneloa</i>.</p>
<p>All Kinney's combined experience was brought to bear to
make his estate pleasurable, not only to himself but for the
casual visitor and passer-by; and in a short time he became
well known. He also was made a Special Commissioner of the
United States to examine into the condition of the Mission
Indians of Southern California; and on this commission he
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_520" id="Page_520">520</SPAN></span>
served with Helen Hunt Jackson, so famous as <i>H. H.</i> or, especially
in California, as the author of <i>Ramona</i>, visiting with
her all the well-known Indian <i>rancherías</i> between San Diego
and Monterey, in addition to the twenty-one Franciscan
Missions.</p>
<p>Toward the end of April, F. P. F. Temple passed away at
the Merced Ranch and was buried in the family burying-ground
at La Puente. This recalls to mind that, in early days, many
families owned a hallowed acre where, as summoned one by
one, they were laid side by side in rest eternal.</p>
<p>On May 16th, John W. Bixby died, at his Long Beach
estate. About 1871 he had entered his brother Jotham's
service, supervising the sheep ranch; and to John Bixby's
foresight was attributed, first the renting and later the purchase
of the great ranch controlled, through foreclosure of
mortgage, by Michael Reese. A year or two before Bixby's
death, five thousand acres were set aside for the town of Los
Alamitos, but John never saw the realization of his dream to
establish there a settlement.</p>
<p>It was on the eighteenth of the same month that my brother
found it necessary to visit Carlsbad for the benefit of his
health, and the decision occasioned my removal to San Francisco
to look after his affairs. What was expected to be a
brief absence really lasted until September, 1882, when he and
his family returned to America and San Francisco, and I
came back to Los Angeles, with which, of course, I had continued
in close communication. During our absence, my wife's
father, Joseph Newmark, died rather suddenly on October
19th, 1881.</p>
<div class="figcenter"><SPAN name="i_602a" id="i_602a"></SPAN> <ANTIMG src="images/i_602a.jpg" width-obs="338" height-obs="402" alt="" /> <p class="caption">Antonio Franco and Mariana Coronel<br/> From an oil painting in the Coronel Collection</p> </div>
<div class="figcenter"><SPAN name="i_602b" id="i_602b"></SPAN> <ANTIMG src="images/i_602b.jpg" width-obs="433" height-obs="268" alt="" /> <p class="caption">Fourth Street, Looking West from Main</p> </div>
<div class="figcenter"><SPAN name="i_603a" id="i_603a"></SPAN> <ANTIMG src="images/i_603a.jpg" width-obs="433" height-obs="208" alt="" /> <p class="caption">Timms Landing<br/> From a print of the late fifties</p> </div>
<div class="figcenter"><SPAN name="i_603b" id="i_603b"></SPAN> <ANTIMG src="images/i_603b.jpg" width-obs="432" height-obs="298" alt="" /> <p class="caption">Santa Catalina, in the Middle Eighties</p> </div>
<p>Reference has been made to the movement, in 1859, for the
division of California into two states. In the spring of 1880,
John G. Downey republished the original act and argued that
it was still valid; and Dr. J. P. Widney contended that the
geographical, topographical, climatic and commercial laws were
all working for the separation of California into two distinct
civil organizations. Not long after, at a mass-meeting in
Los Angeles called to forward the improvement of Wilmington
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_521" id="Page_521">521</SPAN></span>
harbor, an Executive Committee consisting of J. G. Downey,
W. H. Perry, E. F. Spence, Dr. J. P. Widney, A. B. Moffitt and
J. G. Estudillo was named to see what could be done; and this
Committee appointed a Legal Committee, consisting of Henry
T. Hazard, R. M. Widney, George H. Smith, C. E. Thom, A.
Brunson, S. C. Hubbell and H. A. Barclay. The latter Committee
endorsed Downey's view that Congress could admit
the new State; and it arranged for a convention which met on
September 8th, 1881. There the gist of the sentiment was that
State division was a necessity, but that the time was not yet
ripe!</p>
<p>In 1880, Jotham Bixby & Company sold four thousand
acres of their celebrated Cerritos Ranch to an organization
known as the American Colony, and in a short time Willmore
City, named after W. E. Willmore and the origin of Long
Beach, was laid out and widely advertised. Willmore, a
teacher, had been fairly successful as a colonizer in Fresno
County; but after all his dreaming, hard work and investments,
he lost all that he had, like so many others, and died broken-hearted.
The earliest recollection I have of a storekeeper at
Long Beach was my customer, W. W. Lowe.</p>
<p>At an early period in the development of Santa Monica, as
we have seen, Senator Jones built a wharf there; but the Los
Angeles & Independence Railroad, expected to become the
outlet on the Pacific Coast of a supposedly great mining
district in Inyo County, never reached farther east than Los
Angeles. The Southern Pacific Railroad Company, desiring
to remove this competition, obtained possession of the new
road, razed the warehouse and condemned and half dismantled
the wharf; and by setting up its terminus at Wilmington,
it transferred there the greater part of its shipping and
trade. By 1880, Santa Monica, to-day so prosperous, had
shrunk to but three hundred and fifty inhabitants.</p>
<p>Competition compelled us, in 1880, to put traveling salesmen
into the field—an innovation we introduced with reluctance,
involving as it did no little additional expense.</p>
<p>Near the end of August, a Citizens' Committee was appointed
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_522" id="Page_522">522</SPAN></span>
to receive and entertain President Rutherford B. Hayes,
whose visit to Los Angeles, as the first President to come here,
caused quite a stir. His stay was very brief. During the
few hours that he was here, he and his party were driven around
the neighborhood in open hacks.</p>
<p>In the midst of his successive Greenback campaigns,
General Ben. F. Butler sojourned for a few days, in 1880, in
Los Angeles and was the recipient of many attentions.</p>
<p>At the beginning of this decade, the Los Angeles & San
Pedro Railway was extended to Timms' Landing, the well-known
old shipping point; and San Pedro then began to grow
in earnest, both on the bluff and in the lowlands bordering
on the bay. Wharves were projected; and large vessels, such
as would have startled the earlier shippers, yet none too
large at that, made fast to their moorings. But the improvement
of yesterday must make way for that of to-day, and even
now the Harbor Commissioners are razing historic Timms'
Point. Penning again this familiar cognomen, I am reminded
of what, I dare say, has been generally forgotten, that the Bay
of Avalon was also once called Timms' Landing or Cove—after
A. W. Timms, under-officer in the United States Navy—and
that the name was changed prior to the Bannings'
purchase of Catalina.</p>
<p>Frequent reference has been made to those who, in one
way or another, sought to infuse new commercial life here and
more rapidly to expand the city; but, after all, George Lehman,
of whom I have already spoken, was perhaps <i>the</i> pioneer
local boomer before that picturesque word had become incorporated
in the Angeleño's vocabulary. Nor were his peculiarities
in this direction entirely confined to booming, for he
did considerable buying as well. Lehman's operations, however,
most unfortunately for himself, were conducted at too
early a period, and his optimism, together with his extensive,
unimproved holdings, wrought his downfall. Besides the Round
House and gardens, he owned real estate which would now
represent enormous value, in proof of which I have only to
mention a few of his possessions at that time: the southwest
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corner of Sixth and Spring streets; the northeast corner of
Sixth and Hill streets; large frontages and many other corners
on Main, Spring, Fort and Hill streets. Practically none of
this property brought any income, so that when the City began
to grade and improve the streets, Lehman's assessments
compelled him to give a fifteen thousand dollar blanket
mortgage to Lazard Frères of San Francisco.</p>
<p>Lehman soon found himself beyond his depth and defaulted
in the payment of both principal and interest. Not
only that, but with a complacency and a confidence in the
future that were sublime, he refused to sell a single foot of
land, and Lazard Frères with a worthy desire, natural to
bankers, to turn a piece of paper into something more negotiable,
foreclosed the mortgage, in 1879, and shut the gates of
the Garden of Paradise forever; and a sheriff's sale was advertised
for the purpose of concluding this piece of financial
legerdemain. I attended the sale, and still distinctly remember
with much amusement some of the incidents.</p>
<p>The vociferous auctioneer mounted the box or barrel
provided for him and opened the program by requesting an
offer for the corner of Hill and Second streets, a lot one hundred
and twenty by one hundred and sixty feet in size. Nor did
he request in vain.</p>
<p>One of the heroes of the occasion was Louis Mesmer, a
friend of Lehman, whose desire it was to take a talking part in
the proceedings, force up the prices and so help the latter.
Amidst the familiar, "Going, going, going!" accordingly, the
bidding began and, under the incentive of Mesmer's bullish
activities, the figures soon reached four hundred dollars, the last
bidder being Eugene Meyer, local agent for the mortgagee. At
this juncture Mesmer, in his enthusiasm, doubled the bid to
eight hundred dollars, expecting, of course, to induce someone
to raise the price, already high for that day, still higher.</p>
<p>But "the best-laid schemes o' mice an' men gang aft a-gley."
How eagerly Mesmer awaited the fruition of his shrewd manipulation!
how he listened in hopeful anticipation to the repeated,
"Going, going, going!" of the auctioneer! In vain, however,
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he waited, in vain he listened. To his mortification and embarrassment,
his astounded ear was greeted with the decisive,
"Gone!—for eight hundred dollars! Sold to Louis Mesmer!"</p>
<p>Mesmer had bought, for more than it was worth, a piece of
property which he did not want, a catastrophe realized as well
by all the others present as it was patent to the victim himself.
The crowd relished keenly the ludicrous situation in which
Mesmer found himself, encumbered as he was with an investment
which he had had no intention of making; and throughout
the remainder of the contest he was distinguished only by
his silence.</p>
<p>Poor old George! His vision was accurate: Los Angeles was
to become great, but her splendid expansion was delayed too
long for him to realize his dreams. When Lehman died, he
was buried in a pauper's grave; and toward the end of the
eighties, the adobe Round House, once such a feature of
George Lehman's Garden of Paradise, was razed to make way
for needed improvements.</p>
<p>I have spoken of the intolerable condition of the atmosphere
in the Council Chamber when Charles Crocker made his
memorable visit to Los Angeles to consult with the City Fathers.
In the eighties, when the Common Council met in the southeast
corner of the second floor of Temple Block, the same
objectionable use of tobacco prevailed, with the result that
the worthy Aldermen could scarcely be distinguished twenty-five
feet away from the rough benches on which sat the equally
beclouded spectators.</p>
<p>Doubtless the atmosphere of the court room was just as
foul when the Mayor, as late at least as 1880, passed judgment
each morning, sitting as a Justice, on the crop of disorderlies of
the preceding night. Then not infrequently some neighbor
or associate of the Mayor himself, caught in the police dragnet,
appeared among the drowsy defendants!
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