<h2>CHAPTER XXXIII<br/> LOS ANGELES & INDEPENDENCE RAILROAD<br/> 1876</h2>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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 <i>ciénaga</i>—locally spelled
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_486" id="Page_486">486</SPAN></span>
<i>ciénega</i>—refused, despite the protests of passengers, to
proceed!</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>In February, the Santa Monica Land Company was pushing
its sales of real estate, and one of its announcements began
with the headlines:</p>
<div class="blockquot">
<p class="center">SANTA MONICA!<br/>
The Wonderful Young City and Seaport of<br/>
Southern California!<br/>
The Future Terminus of the Union & Texas Pacific Railroad!</p>
</div>
<p>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!</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_487" id="Page_487">487</SPAN></span>
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.</p>
<p>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 <i>tamales</i>! 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!</p>
<p>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 <i>Santa Monica</i>, 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 <i>honor</i> and delight of seeing a
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_488" id="Page_488">488</SPAN></span>
<i>palace</i> 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:</p>
<div class="blockquot">
<p>Go, by all means, to the grand seaside excursion to Santa
Monica on Friday, for among the objects of interest will be
Senator Jones's magnificent new palace-car now being completed
by the tailors (<i>sic</i>) which will have three <i>salons</i>, supplied
with tables and all the usual comforts, and two private
compartments, the whole sumptuously furnished and partly
upholstered with crimson velvet!</p>
</div>
<p>On February 14th, General Andrés Pico died at his residence,
203 Main Street, and was buried from his home on the following
day.</p>
<p>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, <i>via</i> 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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>Micajah D. Johnson, twice City Treasurer, was a Quaker
who came here in 1876. He built at Santa Monica a hotel
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_489" id="Page_489">489</SPAN></span>
which was soon burned; and later he became interested in the
colony at Whittier, suggesting the name of that community.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_490" id="Page_490">490</SPAN></span>
city, led the Gas Company, on March 21st, to grant a
reduction to six dollars a thousand.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_491" id="Page_491">491</SPAN></span>
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 <i>chef</i> 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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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."</p>
<p>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:
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_492" id="Page_492">492</SPAN></span></p>
<div class="blockquot">
<p>Miss Hammond, who has just received a splendid lot of
new styles of hats, bonnets, silks, ribbons, etc., invites the
ladies of Los Angeles to call at her place of business before purchasing
elsewhere. One glance into her show-window will
be enough to project any modern heart into a state of palpitation.</p>
</div>
<p>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!"</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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,
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_493" id="Page_493">493</SPAN></span>
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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_494" id="Page_494">494</SPAN></span>
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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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 <i>début</i> in San Francisco as <i>Adrienne Lecouvreur</i>
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
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_495" id="Page_495">495</SPAN></span>
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.</p>
<p>In June, W. W. Creighton started the <i>Evening Republican</i>;
but during the winter of 1878-79 the paper, for lack of support,
ceased to be published.</p>
<p>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.
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_496" id="Page_496">496</SPAN></span></p>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />