CHAPTER 27 The Los Angeles and San Pedro Railroad continued in 1869 to be the local theme of most importance, although its construction did not go on as rapidly as had been promised. The site for a depot it is true had been selected, but by June 14 only six miles were finished. Farmers were loud and complaints that they had been heavily taxed, and in demanding that the road be rushed to completion in order to handle the prospectively large grain crop. Additional gangs were therefore employed and by the 20th of July seven more miles of track had been laid. In the meantime the Sunday School at Compton enjoyed the first excursion, the members making themselves comfortable on benches and straw in some freight cars. As the work on the railroad progressed, stages, in addition to those regularly running through from Los Angeles to Wilmington, began connecting with the trains at the temporary terminus of the railroad. People went down to Wilmington to see the operations, not merely on the track but in the machine shops where the cars for freight, express, baggage, smoking, and passenger service, designed by A. A. Polamos, the machinist, were being built under the superintendents of Samuel Atkinson, who had been brought west by the San Francisco and San Jose Valley Railroad because of a reputation for railroad experience enjoyed by few if by any other persons on the coast. The company also had a planing mill and wheel-right shop under the charge of George W. Oden. By the first of August both the railroad and connecting stages were advertising Sunday excursions to the beach, emphasizing the chance to travel part of the way by the new means of transit. Curiously, however, visitors were allowed to enjoy the sea breezes but a short time. Arriving at Wilmington about ten or half past, they were compelled to start back for Los Angeles by four in the afternoon. Many resorters still patronized the old service, and frequently the regular stages, racing all the way up from the steamer, would actually reach the city half an hour earlier than those transferring the passengers from the railway terminus, which was extended by August 1st to a point within four miles of town. When eighteen miles had been finished, it was reported that General Stoneman in his post-band would make an excursion on the first train, accompanied by general banning and leading citizens of the town, but strong opposition to the company laying its tracks through the center of the lane, now Alameda Street, having developed, the work was stopped by injunction. The road had been constructed to a point opposite to the old Wolfskill home, then, far from town, until the matter was settled, passengers and freight were unloaded then. Great excitement prevailed here shortly after sundown on Wednesday evening, August 21st, when the mail stage, which had left for Gilroy, but a short time before, came tearing back to town, the seven or eight passengers excitedly shouting that they had been robbed. The stage had proceeded but two miles from Los Angeles when four masked highwaymen stepped into the road and ordered, hands up. Among the passengers was the well-known and popular Ben Truman, who having learned by previous experience just what to do in such a ticklish emergency, and, being persuaded that the two barrels of cold steel had somewhat the proportions of a railway tunnel, sadly but promptly unrolled one hundred and eighty dollars in bills, and quite as sadly deposited, in addition, his favorite conominer. The highwayman picked up the watch, looked it over, shook his head, and, thanking Ben, returned it, expressing the hope that whatever adversity might overwhelm him, he should never be discovered with such a timepiece. All in all, the robbers secured nearly two thousand dollars, but strange to relate, they overlooked the treasure in the well's fargo chest, as well as several hundred dollars in greenbacks belonging to the government. Sheriff J. F. Burns and Deputy H. C. Wiley pursued and captured the robbers, and within about a week they were sent to the penitentiary. On the same evening, at high tide, the little steamer christened Los Angeles, and constructed by P. Banning and Company, to run from the wharf to the outside anchorage, was committed to the waters, bonfires illuminating quite distinctly both guests and the neighboring landscape, and lending to the scene a weird and charming effect. In a previous chapter I have given an account of Lady Franklin's visit to San Pedro and Los Angeles, and of the attention shown her. Her presence awakened new interest in the search for her lamented husband, and paved the way for the sympathetic reception of any intelligence likely to clear up the mystery. No little excitement, therefore, was occasioned eight years later by the finding of a document at San Buenaventura that seemed, like a voice from the dead. According to the story told, as James Dailey, of the lumber firm of Dailey and Rogers, was walking on the beach on August 30, he found a sheet of paper a foot square, much mutilated, but bearing in five or six different languages a still legible request to forward the memoranda to the nearest British consul or the admiralty at London. Every square inch of the paper was covered with data relating to Sir John Franklin and his party, concluding with the definite statement that Franklin had died on June 11, 1847. Having been found within a week of the time that the remnant of Dr. Hall's party, when in search of the explorer, had arrived home in Connecticut with the announcement that they had discovered seven skeletons of Franklin's men, this document washed up on the Pacific Coast excited much comment, but I am unable to say whether it was ever accepted by competent judges as having been written by Franklin's associates. In 1869 the long familiar adobe of José Antonio Carrillo was raised to make way for what, for many years, was the leading hotel of Los Angeles. This was the Pico House, in its decline known as the National Hotel, which when erected on Main Street opposite the plaza at a cost of nearly fifty thousand dollars, but emphasized in its contrasting showiness the ugliness of the neglected square. Some thirty-five thousand dollars were spent in furnishing the eighty odd rooms and no little splurge was made that guests could there enjoy the luxuries of both gas and baths. In its palmy days the Pico House welcomed from time to time travelers of wide distinction, while many a pioneer, among them not a few newly wedded couples now permanently identified with Los Angeles or the Southland, look back to the hostelry as the one surviving building fondly associated with the olden days. Charles Nowleton was an early manager, and he was succeeded by Dunham and Shifolin. Competition in the blacking of boots enlivened to the fall, the Hotel Afayette, putting boldly in printer's ink the question, do you want to have your boots blacked in a cool private place? This challenge was answered with the following proclamation. Champion boot blacked, boots blacked neater and cheaper than anywhere else in the city at the blue wing shaving saloon by D. Jefferson. Brick making had become, by September, quite an important industry. Joe Mullally, whose brickyard was near the Jewish cemetery, then had two kilns with a capacity of two hundred and twenty-five thousand, and in the following month he made over five hundred thousand to brick. In course of time the Los Angeles and San Pedro Railroad was completed to the Madigan Lodge, which remained for several years the Los Angeles Terminus, and justly confident that the difficulty with the authorities would be removed, the company pushed work on their depot and put in a turntable at the foot of New Commercial Street. There was but one diminutive locomotive, the way larger one was on its way around the horn from the east, and still another was coming by the continental railway. And every few days the little engine would go out of commission so that traffic was constantly interrupted. At such times confidence in the enterprise was somewhat shaken, but new rolling stock served to reassure the public. A brightly painted smoking car with seats mounted on springs was soon the talk of the town. I've spoken of JJ Reynolds's early enterprise and the competition that he evoked. Toward the end of July he went up to San Francisco and outdid Hewitt by purchasing a handsome omnibus, suitable for hotel service, and also adapted to the needs of families or individuals clubbing together for picnics and excursions. This gave the first impetus to the use of the hotel buses, and by the first Sunday in September, when the cars from Wilmington rolled in bringing passengers from the steamer Orizaba, the travelers were met by omnibuses and coaches from all three hotels, the Belly Union, the United States, and the Lafayette. The number of vehicles, public and private, giving the streets around the railroad depot a very lively appearance. Judge W. G. Dryden, so long a unique figure here, died on September 10, and A. J. King succeeded him as county judge. A notable visit to Los Angeles was that of Secretary William H. Seward, who in 1869 made a trip across the continent, going as far north as Alaska and as far south as Mexico, and being everywhere enthusiastically received. When Seward left San Francisco for San Diego, about the middle of September, he was accompanied by Frederick Seward and his wife, his son, and daughter-in-law. General W. S. Rosa Kranz, General Morton C. Hunter, Colonel Thomas Sedgwick, and Senator S. B. Axel. In the news of their departure, having been telegraphed ahead, many people went down to greet them on the arrival of the steamer Orizaba. After the little steamer Los Angeles had been made fast to the wharf, it was announced to everyone's disappointment that the secretary was not coming ashore as he wished to continue on his way to San Diego. Meanwhile, the common council had resolved to extend the hospitality of the city to the distinguished party, and by September 19, posters proclaimed that Seward and his party were coming, and that citizens generally would be afforded an opportunity to participate in a public reception at the Bella Union on September 21. A day in advance, therefore, the mayor and a committee from the council set out for Anaheim, where they met the distinguished statesman on his way, whence the party jogged along leisurely in a carriage and four until they arrived at the bank of the Los Angeles River, and there Seward and his friends were met by other officials and a cavalcade of 80 citizens led by the military band of drum barracks. The guests alighted at the Bella Union, and in a few minutes a rapidly increasing crowd was calling loudly for Mr. Seward. The secretary, being welcomed on the balcony, my mayor, Joel H. Turner, said that he had been laboring under mistakes all his life. He had visited Rome to witness celebrated ruins, but he found more interesting ruins in the Spanish missions. Great cheers. He had journeyed to Switzerland to view its glaciers, but upon the Pacific coast he had seen rivers of ice 250 feet in breadth, five miles long, and God knows how high. More cheers. He had explored Labrador to examine the fisheries, but in Alaska he found that the fisheries came to him. Here, here, and renewed applause. He had gone to Burgundy to view the most celebrated vineyards of the world, but the vineyards of California far surpassed them all, vociferous and deafening hurrahs and tossing of bouquets. The next day the Washington guests and their friends were shown about the neighborhood, and that evening Mr. Seward made another and equally happy speech to the audience drawn to the Bella Union by the playing of the band. There were also addresses by the mayor, Senator Axel, ex-governor Downey, and others, after which, in good old American fashion, citizens generally were introduced to the associates of the martyred Lincoln. At nine o'clock a number of invited guests were ushered into the Bella Union's dining room, where, at a bounteous repast, the company drank to the health of the secretary. This brought from the visitor an eloquent response with interesting local allusions. Secretary Seward remarked that he found people here agitated upon the question of internal improvements for everywhere people wanted railroads. Californians, if they were patient, would yet witness a railroad through the north, another by the southern route, still another by the 35th parallel, a fourth by the central route, and lastly, as the old plantation song goes, one down the middle. California needed more population, and railroads were the means by which to get people. Finally, Mr. Seward spoke of the future prospects of the United States, saying much of peculiar interest in the light of later developments. We were already great, he affirmed, but a nation satisfied with its greatness as a nation without a future. We should expand, and as mightily as we could, until at length we had both the right and the power to move our armies anywhere in North America. As to the island lying almost within a stone's throw of our mainland, ought we not to possess Cuba, too? Other toasts, such as the mayor and common council, the pioneers, the ancient hospitality of California, the press, the wine press, and our wives and sweethearts, were proposed and responded to, much good feeling prevailing notwithstanding the variance in political sentiments represented by guests and hosts, and everyone went home in the small hours of the morning pleased with the manner in which Los Angeles had received her illustrious visitors. The next day, Secretary Seward and party left for the North by carriages, rolling away toward Santa Barbara, and the mountains so soon to be invaded by the puffing, screeching iron horse. Recollecting this banquet to Secretary Seward, I may add an amusing fact of a personal nature. Eugene Meyer and I arranged to go to the dinner together, agreeing that we were to meet at the store of Essel Lozard and Company, almost directly opposite the Bella Union. When I left Los Angeles in 1867, evening dressed was uncommon, but in New York I had become accustomed to its more frequent use. Rather naturally therefore I donned my swallow-tail. Meyer, however, I found in a business suit, and surprised at my query as to whether he intended going home to dress. Just as we were, we walked across the street and entering the hotel, whom should we meet but ex-mayor John G. Nichols, wearing a grayish linen duster, and a white-sleeve sly coat, which I found a few years ago peculiar in those days, that extended to his very ankles. While P.O. and Andrés Pico came attire in blue coats with big brass buttons. Meyer, observing the mayor's outfit, facetiously asked me if I still wished him to go home and dress according to Los Angeles fashion.  Mr. Seward, it is needless to say, was faultlessly attired. The Spanish archives were long neglected until M. overhaul and arrange the documents, and even then it was not until September 16 that the council built a vault for the preservation of the official papers. Two years later, Kramer discovered an original proclamation of peace between the United States and Mexico. Elsewhere I allude to the slow development of Fort Street. For the first time, on the 24th of September, street lamps burned there, and that was from six to nine months after darkness had been partially banished from Nigger Alley, Los Angeles, Aliso, and Alameda streets. Supplementing what I have said of the Los Angeles and San Pedro Railroad depot, it was built on a lot, fronting 300 feet on Alameda Street and having a depth of 120 feet, its situation being such that, after the extension of Commercial Street, the structure occupied the southwest corner of the two highways. Really it was more of a freight shed than anything else, without adequate passenger facilities.  By the way, the engineer of the first train to run through to this depot was James Holmes, although B.W. Colling ran the first train stopping inside the city limits. About this time, the real estate excitement had become still more intense, in anticipation of the erection of this depot, Commercial Street property boomed and the first realty agents of whom I have any recollection appeared on the scene, Judge R.M. Wydney being among them. I remember that two lots, one 80 by 120 feet in size at the northwest corner of First and Spring Street, and the other, having a frontage of only 20 feet on New Commercial Street adjacent to the station, were offered simultaneously at $1200 each. Contrary no doubt to what he would do today, the purchaser chose the Commercial Street lot, believing that location to have the better future. Telegraph rates were not very favorable in 1869 to frequent or verbose communication. Ten words sent from Los Angeles to San Francisco cost $1.50 and a half, and 50 cents additional was asked for the next five words. After a while, there was a reduction of 25% in the cost of the first ten words and 50% on the second five. 2,400 voters registered in Los Angeles this year. In the fall, William H. Spurgeon founded Santa Ana some five miles beyond Anaheim on a tract of about 50 acres, where a number of the first settlers experimented in growing flax. It is not clear to me just when the rocky Arroyo Seiko began to be popular as a resort, but I remember going there on picnics as early as 1857. By the late 60s, when Santa Monica Canyon also appeared to the lovers of Sylvan life, the Arroyo had become known as Sycamore Grove, a name doubtless suggested by the numerous Sycamores there. And Clois F. Henrickson had opened an establishment including a little hotel, a dancing pavilion, a saloon, and a shooting alley. Free lunch and free beer were provided for the first day and each Sunday thereafter in the summer season, an omnibus ran every two hours from Los Angeles to the Sycamores. After some years, John Rumpf and wife succeeded to the management, Frau Rumpf being a popular viertan. And then the Los Angeles Turn Vareen used the Grove for its public performances, including gymnastics, singing, and the old-time sack racing and target shooting. James Miller Ginn, who had come to California in November 1863 and had spent several years in various counties of the state digging for gold and teaching school, drifted down to Los Angeles in October and was soon engaged as principal of the public school at the new town of Anaheim, remaining there in that capacity for 12 years, during part of which time he also did good work on the county school board. Under the auspices of the French Benevolent Society and toward the end of October, the cornerstone of the French hospital built on city donation lots and for many years and even now one of the most efficient institutions of our city was laid with the usual ceremonies. On October 9, the first of the new locomotives arrived at Wilmington and a week later made the first trial trip with a baggage and passenger car. Just before departure, a painter was employed to label the engine and decorate it with a few scrolls. When it was discovered too late, the artist had spelled the name Los Angelos. On October 23, two lodges of odd fellows used the railway to visit Bowen Lodge at Wilmington, returning on the first train up to that time, run into Los Angeles at midnight. October 26 was a memorable day for on that date, the Los Angeles and San Pedro Railroad Company opened the line to the public and invited everybody to enjoy a free excursion to the harbor. Two trains were dispatched each way, a second consisting of ten cars and not less than 1500 persons made the round trip. Unfortunately it was very warm and dusty but such discomforts were soon forgotten in the novelty of the experience. On the last trip back came the musicians and the new Los Angeles depot having been cleared, cleaned up and decorated for a dedicatory ball, there was a stampede to the little structure filling it in a jiffy. Judge H.K.S. O. Malvaney, who first crossed the plains from Illinois on horseback in 1849, came to Los Angeles with his family in November, having already served four years as a circuit judge following his practice of law in Sacramento. He was a brother-in-law of L.J. Rose, having married in 1850 Miss Annie Wilhelmina Rose. Upon his arrival he purchased the southwest corner of Second and Fort Streets, a lot 120 by 165 feet in size, and there he subsequently constructed one of the fine houses of the period, which was bought some years later by Joffam Bixby for about $4,500 after it had passed through various hands. Bixby lived in it for a number of years and then resold it. In 1872 O. Malvaney was elected judge of Los Angeles County, and in 1887 he was appointed superior judge. H.W.O. Malvaney, his second son, came from the east with his parents graduating in time from the Los Angeles High School and the State University. Now he is a distinguished attorney and occupies a leading position as public-spirited citizen and a patron of the arts and sciences. In his very readable work from East Prussia to the Golden Gang, Frank Le Corvier credits me with having served the Commonwealth as supervisor. This is a slight mistake. I was an unwilling candidate, but never assumed the responsibilities of office. In 1869 various friends waited upon me and requested me to stand as their candidate for the supervisorship, to which I answered that I would be glad to serve my district, but that I would not lift a finger toward securing my election. H. Abila was chosen with 631 votes, E.M. Sanford being a close second with 616, while 537 votes were cast in my favor. Trains on the new railway began to run regularly on November 1, and there still exists one of the first timetables bearing at the head Los Angeles and San Pedro Railroad, and a little picture of a locomotive and train. At first the train scheduled for two stated round trips a day, except on steamer days when the time was conditioned by the arrival and departure of vessels, left for Wilmington at 8 o'clock in the morning and at 1 o'clock in the afternoon, returning at 10 in the morning and 4 in the afternoon. The fare between Los Angeles and Wilmington was $1.50, with an additional charge of $1.00 to the anchorage, while on freight from the anchorage to Los Angeles the tariff was dry goods $16 per ton, groceries and other merchandise $5 and lumber $7 per thousand feet. After the formal opening of the railroad, a permanent staff of officers, crews, and machinations was organized. The first superintendent was H.W. Hawthorne, who was succeeded by E.E. Hewitt, editor of the Wilmington Journal. N.A. McDonald was the first conductor, Sam Butler was the first, and for a while the only breakman, and the engineers were James McBride and Bill Thomas. The first local agent was John Milner, the first agent at Wilmington, John McCray. The former was succeeded by John E. Jackson, who from 1880 to 1882 served the community as a surveyor. Worthy of remark, perhaps, as a coincidence, is the fact that both Milner and McCray ultimately became connected in important capacities with the farmers and merchants bank. The first advertised public excursion on the Los Angeles and San Pedro railroad after its opening was a trip to Wilmington and around San Pedro harbor, arranged for November 5, 1869. The cars drawn by the locomotive Los Angeles, and connecting with the little steamer of the same name, left at 10 and returned at 3 o'clock in the afternoon. Two dollars was a round-trip fare while another daughter was exacted from those who went out upon the harbor. In the late 70s a Portuguese named Fayol settled near what is now the corner of 6th and Front Street, San Pedro, and one Linskau took up his abode in another shack a block away. Around these rude huts sprang up the neighborhoods of Fayol and Lindville, since absorbed by San Pedro. Probably the first attempt to organize a fire company for Los Angeles was made in 1869 when a meeting was called on Saturday evening, November 6, at Buffam's Saloon to consider the matter. A temporary organization was formed, with Henry Vortenberg as president, W.A. Mix, vice president, George M. Fall secretary, and John H. Gregory Treasurer. An initiation fee of $2.50 and monthly dues of 25 cents were decided upon, and J.F. Burns, B. Katz, Emile Harris, George Pridham, E.B. Frink, C.D. Hathaway, P. Thompson, O.W. Potter, C.M. Small, and E.C. Phelps were charter members. A committee appointed to canvass for subscriptions made little progress and the partial destruction of Rowan's American bakery in December, demonstrating the need of an engine and hose cart brought out sharp criticism of Los Angeles's penuriousness. About the middle of November, Daniel Desmond, who had come on October 14 of the preceding year, opened a hat store on Los Angeles Street near New Commercial, widely advertising the enterprise as a pioneer one and declaring, perhaps unconscious of any pun, that he proposed to fill a want that had long been felt. The steamer Orizaba, which was to bring down Desmond's good, as ill luck would have it, left half his stock lying on the San Francisco pier, and the opening, so much heralded, had to be deferred several weeks. As late as 1876 he was still the only exclusive hatter here. Desmond died on January 23, 1903, aged 70 years, and was succeeded by his son, C.C. Desmond. Another son, DJ Desmond, is the well-known contractor. Toward the close of November, Joseph Jolie, a Frenchman, opened the Chartres-Coffee factory on Main Street opposite the plaza, and was the pioneer in that line. He delivered to both stores and families, and for a while seemed phenomenally successful, but one fine morning in December it was discovered that the Jolie Joseph had absconded, leaving behind numerous unpaid bills. The first marble cutter to open a workshop in Los Angeles was named Miller. He came toward the end of 1869 and established himself in the Downey Block. Prior to Miller's coming, all marble work was brought from San Francisco, or some source still further away, and the delay and expense debarred many from using that stone, even for the pious purpose of identifying graves. With the growth of Anaheim as the business center of the country between the new San Gabriel and the Santa Ana Rivers, sentiment had been spread in favor of the division of Los Angeles County, and at the opening of the legislature of 1869-70, Anaheim had its official representative in Sacramento, ready to present the claims of the little German settlement and its thriving neighbors. The person selected for this important embassy was Major Max Von Strobel, and he inaugurated his campaign with such sagacity and energy that the bill passed the assembly and everything pointed to an early realization of the scheme. It was not, however, until Los Angeles awoke to the fact that the proposed segregation meant a decided loss that opposition developed in the Senate and the whole matter was held up. Strobel thereupon sent post-haste to his supporters for more cash, and efforts were made to get the stubborn Senate to reconsider. Doubtless somebody else had a longer purse than Strobel, for in the end he was defeated, and the Germans' dream did not come true until long after he had migrated to the realms that know no subdivisions. One of the arguments used in favor of the separation was that it took two days time and cost six dollars for the round trip to the Los Angeles courthouse, while another contention then regarded as of great importance was that the one coil of hosepipe owned by the county was kept at Los Angeles. Strobel, by the way, desired to call the new county Anaheim. Major von Strobel was a very interesting character. He was a German who had stood shoulder to shoulder with Karl Schertz and Franz Schiegel in the German Revolution of 1848, and who, after having taken part in the adventures of Walker's filibustering expedition to Nicaragua, finally landed in Anaheim where he turned his attention to the making of wine. He soon tired of that, and in 1867 was found boring for oil on the Brea Ranch, again meeting with reverses where others later were so successful. He then started the movement to divide Los Angeles county and once more failed in what was afterward accomplished. Journalism in Anaheim next absorbed him and, having had the best of educational advantages, Strobel brought to his newspaper both culture and the experience of travel. The last grand effort of this adventurous spirit was the attempt to sell Santa Catalina Island. Backed by the owners, Strobel sailed for Europe and opened headquarters near Thread Needle Street in London. In a few weeks he had almost affected the sale, the contract having been drawn and the time actually set for the following day when the money, a cool 200,000 pounds, was to be paid. But no Strobel kept Trist to carry out his part of the transaction. Only the evening before, alone and unattended, the old man had died in his room at the very moment when Fortune, for the first time, was to smile upon him. 18 or 20 years later Catalina was sold for much less than the price once agreed upon. End of Chapter 27. Chapter 28 of 60 Years in Southern California, 1853 to 1913 by Harris Newmark. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Kay Hand. Chapter 28, The Last of the Vigilantes, 1870. As I have somewhere related I began buying hides as far back as 1855, but it was not until 1870 that this branch of our business assumed such importance as to require more convenient quarters. Then we bought a place on the southeast corner of Alameda and Commercial Streets, facing 60 feet on Alameda and having a depth of 165 feet, where we constructed a hide house and erected a press for bailing. We paid P. Baudry $1,100 for the lot. The relatively high price shows what the Los Angeles and San Pedro Railroad Depot had done for that section. In the days when hides were sent by sailing vessels to the east, a different method of preparing them for shipment was in vogue. The wet hides having been stretched, small stakes were driven into the ground along the edge of and through the skins, thus holding them in place until they had dried and expanding them by about one third. In this condition they were forwarded loose. Now that transportation is more rapid and there are tanneries in California, all hides are handled wet. In 1870 business life was centered on Los Angeles Street between Commercial and Arcadia and all the hotels were north of First Street. Fort Street ended in a little bluff at a spot now between Franklin and First Streets. Spring Street was beginning to take on new life and yet there was but one gas lamp along the entire roadway, though there were many appeals to add another lamp, say as far as First Street. Sometime in January a number of ladies of this city met and through the exertions of Mrs. Rosa Newmark, wife of Joseph Newmark, formed the Ladies Hebrew Benevolent Society. Mrs. Newmark as was once pointed out in a notable open-air meeting of women's clubs, to which I elsewhere refer, never accepted any office in the society, but for years she was untiring in her efforts in the cause of charity. The first officers were President, Mrs. W. Calisher, Vice President, Mrs. Harris Newmark, Treasurer, Mrs. John Jones, Secretary, Mrs. B. Katz, and Collector, Mrs. A. Baer. Three counselors, Henry Whartonburg, I Am Hellman, and myself, occasionally met with the ladies to advise them. Aside from the fact of its importance as the Pioneer Ladies Benevolent Organization instituted in Los Angeles, the society found a much needed work to do. It was then almost impossible to obtain nurses and the duty devolved on members to act in that capacity, where such assistance was required, whether the afflicted were rich or poor. It was also their function to prepare the dead for internment and to keep proper vigil over the remains until the time of burial. During the year 1869 or 1870, as a result of occasional gatherings in the office of Dr. Joseph Kurtz, the Los Angeles Turnverine was organized with 11 members. Emil Harris, leading in the movement, assisted by Dr. Kurtz, Ed Proust, Lorenzo Lack, Philip and Henry Stoll, Jake Kurtz, Fred Morsch, C.C. Lips, and Isaac Cohn. Dr. Kurtz was elected president. They fraternized for a while at Frow V. Beck's Garden on the west side of Alameda near First Street, about where the Union hardware and metal company now stands. And there, while beer and wine were served in the open air, the two tins gratified their love of music and song. Needing for their gymnastics more enclosed quarters, the Turnverine rented of Callisher and Fortenburg, the barn on Alameda streets between Duke Common and First, used as a hide house. And in that rough boarded shack, whose none too aromatic odors are still a souvenir to many a pioneer resident, the turners swung and vaulted to their hearts content. Classes were soon arranged for boys and the envy of all was the lad who after numerous risks to limb and neck, proudly topped the human pyramid. Another garden of this period often patronized by the Turnverine was Kiln Messers on First Street between Alameda and the river. The post office was moved this year from the corner of North Main and Market Streets to the middle of Temple Block. But even there, the facilities were so inadequate that Wells Fargo and Company in June put up a letter box at the corner of Main and Commercial Streets, which was emptied but once a day at four o'clock in the afternoon, save on steamer days when letters were taken out at half past nine. The other box was at the Soul Railroad Depot, then at the corner of Alameda and Commercial Streets. The post office at that time was also so miserably illuminated that citizens fumbled about to find their letter boxes and ladies were timid about entering the building at night. Postmasters were allowed small reserves and for some time in 1870, the Los Angeles Post Office was entirely out of one and two cent stamps. In February, the way was prepared for the first city directory when the houses of Los Angeles were ordered to be numbered, a public discussion of the need for a directory having taken place the previous December. When collaborators began to collect names and other data, there were many refusals to answer questions, but the little volume of 70 pages was finally published in 1871. Until 1870, Los Angeles had no book binder, all binding having had to be sent to San Francisco and a call was then sent out to induce a journeyman to settle here. On the 14th of February, Phineas Banning was married to Miss Mary, daughter of Colonel J. H. Hollister, the affair being the consummation of a series of courtly addresses in which, as I have related, it was my pleasurable privilege to play an intermediary part. As might be expected of one who was himself an experienced and generous entertainer, the wedding was a social event to be long and pleasantly remembered by the friends of the bride and groom. Mrs. Banning, who for years maintained an attractive home on Fort Hill, is now living on Commonwealth Avenue. About this time, Colonel Isaac R. Dunkelberger came to Los Angeles to live, having just finished his fifth year in the Army in Arizona, following a long service under northern banners during the Civil War. While here, the Colonel met and courted Miss Mary Mallard, daughter of Judge Mallard, and on February 26th, 1867 they were married. For eight years, from March 1877, Dunkelberger was postmaster. He died on December 5th, 1904, survived by his widow and six children. While writing about this estimable family, it occurs to me that Mary, then a little girl, was one of the guests at my wedding. Frank Le Corvier, who was surveyor of Los Angeles County from 1870 until 1873, was a native of East Prussia, and like his predecessor, George Hansen, came to California by way of the horn. For a while, as I have it related, he was my bookkeeper. In 1877, he married Miss Josephine Rosanna Smith, who had renounced her vows as a nun. Ten years later, he suffered a paralytic stroke and wasn't invalid until his death on January 17th, 1901. Once introduced, the telegraph gradually grew in popularity, but even in 1870, when the Western Union Company had come into the field and was operating as far as the coast, service was anything but satisfactory. The poles between Los Angeles and San Francisco had become rotten and often fell, dragging the wires with them and interrupting communication with the North. There were no wires up to that time to Santa Barbara or San Bernardino, and only in the spring of that year was it decided to put a telegraph line through to San Diego. When the Santa Barbara line was proposed, the citizens there speedily subscribed $2,245, it having been the company's plan always to get some local stockholders. As a result of real estate purchases and exchanges in the late 60s and early 70s between Dr. J.S. Griffin, Phineas Banning, B.D. Wilson, P. Bodry, and others, a fruit growing colony was planned in April when it was proposed to take in some 1,750 acres of the best part of the San Pascual Rancho, including a $10,000 ditch. A company with a capital stock of $200,000 divided into 4,000 shares of $50 each was formed to grow oranges, lemons, grapes, olives, nuts, and raisins, John Archibald being president, R.M. Whitney, vice president, W.J. Taylor, secretary, and the London and San Francisco Bank, treasurer. But although subscription books were opened and the scheme was advertised, nothing was done with the land until D.M. Barry and others came from Indiana and started the Indiana colony. A rather uncommon personality for about 30 years was Fred Doze, who came from Germany when he was 23 and engaged in trading horses. By 1870, he was managing a barber shop near the Downey Block and soon after was conducting a string band. For many years, the barber musician furnished the music for most of the local dances and entertainments at the same time or until prices began to be cut, maintaining his shop where he charged two bits for a shave and four bits for a haircut. During his prosperity, Doze acquired property principally on East 1st Street. The 1st Foot Bridge having finally succumbed to the turbulent waters of the erratic Los Angeles River, the great flood of 1867 to 68, again called the attention of our citizens to the necessity of establishing permanent and safe communication between the two sides of the stream. And this agitation resulted in the construction by Perry and Woodworth of the 1st Faley Substantial Bridge at the foot of the old Aliso Road, now Macy Street, as an outlay of some $20,000. Yet, notwithstanding the great necessity that had always existed for this improvement, it is my recollection that it was not consummated until about 1870. Like its poor little predecessor carried away by the uncontrolled waters, the more dignified structure was broken up by a still later flood and the pieces of timber once so carefully put together by a confident and satisfied people were strewn for a mile or two along the river banks. Way back in the formative years of Los Angeles, there were suddenly added to the constellation of noteworthy local characters, two jovial, witty, good-for-nothing Irishmen who from the 1st were pals. The two were known as Dan, Kelly, and Mickey Free. Mickey's right name was Dan Harrington, but I never knew Kelly to go under any other appellation. When sober, which was not very frequent, Dan and Mickey were good-natured, jocular, and free-from-care, and it mattered not to either of them whether the Morrow might find them well-fed and at liberty or in the jail then known as the Hotel de Burns. Sufficient until the day is the evil thereof was the only philosophy they knew. They were boon companions when free from drink, but when saturated they immediately fought like demons. They were both in the toils quite 10 months of the year while during the other two months they carried a hod. Of the two, Mickey was the most irredeemable and in time he became such a nuisance that the authorities finally decided to ship him out of the country and bought him a ticket to Oregon. Mickey got his far San Pedro where he traded his ticket for a case of delirium tremens, but he did something more. He broke his leg and was bundled back to Los Angeles, renewing here the acquaintance of both the bartender and the jailer. Some years later he astonished the town by giving up drink and entering the veteran's home. When he died they gave him a soldier's honors and a soldier's grave. In 1870, F. Bonchard imported into Los Angeles County some five or 600 blooded cashmere goats. And about the same time or perhaps even earlier, J. E. Pleasants conducted at Los Nietos, a similar enterprise, at one time having four or 500 of a superior breed, the wool of which brought from 25 to 35 cents a pound. The goat-fancying Pleasants also had some 1200 angoras. On June 1st, Henry Hamilton, who two years before had resumed the editorship of the Los Angeles Star, then a weekly, issued the first number of the Daily Star. He had taken into partnership George W. Barter, who three months later started the Anaheim Gazette. In 1872, Barter was cowhided by a woman and a committee formally requested the editor to Vamuse the town. Barter next bought the Daily Star from Hamilton on credit, but he was unable to carry out his contract and within a year Hamilton was again in charge. At the beginning of this decade, times in Arizona were really very bad. H. Newmark and Company, who had large amounts to do them for merchants in that territory, were not entirely easy about their outstanding accounts and this prompted Casper Cone to visit our customers there. I urged him to consider the dangers of the road and to abandon his project, but he was determined to go. The story of the trip in the light of present methods and the comparative safety of travel is an interesting one and I shall relate his experience as he described them to me. He started on a Saturday going by stage in preference to Buckboard, from Los Angeles to San Bernardino and from their road as the only passenger with a stage driver named Brown, passing through Frinks Ranch, Gilmans, White River, Agua Caliente, Indian Wells, Torros, Dos Palmas, Chucabuala, Mule Springs and Willow Springs. H. Newmark and Company had forwarded on a prairie schooner driven by Jesse Allen of Los Angeles a considerable amount of merchandise which it was their intention should be sold in Arizona and the freighting charge upon which was to be 12 and a half cents a per pound. In Chucabuala, familiarly called Chucky Valley, the travelers overtook Allen and the stocks of goods and this meeting in that lonesome region was the cause of such mutual rejoicing that Casper provided as abundant and entertainment as his limited stores would permit. Resuming their journey from Chucabuala, the driver and his companion soon left Allen and his cumbersome load in the rear. It was near Granite Wash as they were jogging along in the evening that they noticed some Indian fire signals. These were produced by digging a hole in the ground, filling it with a combustible material such as dry leaves and setting fire to it. From the smoldering that resulted, smoke was emitted and sparks burst forth. Observing these ticklish warnings, the wayfarers sped away and escaped, perhaps a tragic fate. Arriving at Aaronburg on a Tuesday morning, Casper remained there all night. Still the only passenger he left the next day and it may be imagined how cheering after the previous experience was the driver's remark that on account of the lonesome character of the trip and especially the danger from scalping apaches, he would never have departed without some company. Somewhere between Granite Wash and Wickenburg, a peculiar rattling revealed a nearby snake where upon Casper jumped out and shot the reptile, securing the tail and rattles. Changing horses or resting at Tyson's Wells, McMullins and Cullen's station, they arrived the next night at Wickenburg. The location of the vulture mines where Casper called upon the superintendent, a man named Peoples, to collect a large amount they owed us. Half of the sum was paid in gold bars at the rate of $16 per ounce while the other half we lost. A niece of M. Kramer lived in Wickenburg where her husband was in business. She suffered a great deal from headaches and a friend had recommended, as a talisman, the possession of snake rattles. Casper, with his accustomed gallantry, produced the specimen which he had obtained and gave it to the lady and it is to be hoped that she was permanently relieved of her pain as so many nowadays are cured of imaginary troubles by no more substantial superstitions. Making short stops at Wilson station, Antelope station, Kirkland Valley, Skull Valley and Mint Valley, Casper reached Prescott some 430 miles from San Bernardino and inquired after Dan Hazard, the ex-mayor's brother and one of our customers who died about the middle of the 80s and learned that he was then on his way to St. Louis with teams to haul back freight for Levi Bashford who, in addition to be an important trader, was government receiver of public monies. Casper decided to remain in Prescott until Hazard returned and as Jesse Allen soon arrived with the merchandise, Casper had ample time to sell it. Bashford, as a government official, was not permitted to handle such goods as matches and cigars which bore revenue stamps but Casper sold him quantities of lard, beans, coffee, sugar and other supplies. He sold the revenue stamped articles to Buffam and Campbell, the former of whom had once been a well-known resident of Los Angeles. He also disposed of some goods to the Henderson Brothers afterward prominent bankers of Tucson and Globe, Arizona. In the meantime, Dan Hazard returned and settled his account in full. Casper remained in Prescott nearly four weeks. Between the collections that he made and the money which he received for the consigned merchandise, he had about $13,000 in currency to bring back with him. With this amount of money on his person, the return trip was more than ever fraught with danger. Mindful of this added peril, Casper kept the time of his departure from Prescott secret. No one, with the exception of Bashford, being in his confidence. He prepared very quietly and at the last moment, one Saturday afternoon, he slipped into the stage and started for California. Brown was again his companion as far as Ehrenburg. There he met Frank Ganahal and Charles Strong, both soon to become Southern Californians and knowing them very well, their companionship contributed during the rest of the trip not only pleasure, but an agreeable feeling of security. His arrival in Los Angeles afforded me much relief and the story of his adventures and success added more than a touch of interest. The first street sprinklers in Los Angeles were owned and operated about the middle of July by T. W. McCracken, who was allowed by the council to call upon residents along the route for weekly contributions to keep the water wagon going. I've told of the establishing of Hellman Temple and Company as bankers. In September the first named bought out his partners and continued until 1871 as Hellman and Company. With the commencement of autumn, when the belief prevailed that little or nothing could be done toward persuading the common council to beautify the plaza, a movement to lay out and embellish the five acre tract bounded by Hill and Olive and Fifth and Sixth Streets met with such favor that by the first week in October, some $800 had been subscribed for the purpose. On November 19th, a public meeting was held, presided over by Prudent Bodrie, Major H. M. Mitchell serving as secretary, and it was suggested to call the proposed square the Los Angeles Park and to enclose it at a cost of about $500 with a fence. Another $200 was soon made up and the services of L. Carpenter, who offered to plow the land prior to sowing grass seed, were accepted in lieu of a subscription. Both George Layman and Elijah Workman showed their public spirit by planting what have since become the largest trees there. Some time later, the name was changed to Central Park by which it is still known. The first hackney coach ever built in Los Angeles was turned out in September by John Goeller for J. J. Reynolds, about the same time that the Oriental Stage Company bought a dozen new Concord coaches from the East and cost $1,000. Goeller was then famous for elaborate vehicles and patented spring buggies, which he shipped even to pretentious and bustling San Francisco. By the end of November, however, friends of the clever and enterprising carriage maker were startled to hear that he had failed for then not insignificant sum of about $40,000. Up to the fall of the year, no connection existed between Temple and First Street's West of Spring, but on the first day of September, a cut through the hill, affected by means of chain gang labor and continuing Fort Street North was completed to the satisfaction of the entire community. About the middle of October, a petition was presented to the Common Council calling attention to the fact that the Los Angeles Water Company two years before had agreed to erect a fountain on the plaza and declaring that the open's place was a little short of a scarecrow for visitors. The company immediately replied that it was ready to put up the fountain and in November, the council ordered the brick tank taken away. At the beginning of August, 1871, the fountain began playing. During the second marshalship of William C. Warren, when Joe Dai was one of his deputy officers, there was a great traffic in Chinese women, one of whom was kidnapped and carried off to San Diego. A reward of $100 was offered for her return and she was brought back on a charge of theft and tried in the court of Justice Trafford on Temple Street near Spring. During the trial, on October 31st, 1870, Warren and Dai fell into a dispute as to the reward and the quarrel was renewed outside the courtroom. At a spot near the corner of Spring and Temple Streets, Dai shot and killed Warren and in the scrimmage, several other persons standing near were wounded. Dai was tried but acquitted. Later, however, he himself was killed by a nephew, Mason Bradfield, whose life he had frequently threatened and who fired the deadly bullet from a window of the new Arlington Hotel, formerly the White House, at the southeast corner of commercial and Los Angeles Streets. Mrs. C.P. Bradfield, Bradfield's mother and a teacher who came in 1875, was the author of certain textbooks for drawing published by A.S. Barnes and Company of New York. Failures in raising and using camels in the southwest were due, at least partially, to ignorance of the animals once. A couple of Mexicans in the early 60s overloading some and treating them so badly that nearly all died. Later, Frenchmen, who had had more experience, secured the two camels left. By 1870, there was a herd of no less than 25 on a ranch near the Carson River in Nevada where they were used in packing salt for 60 miles or more to the mills. On October 31st, the first teachers' institute held in Los Angeles County was opened with an attendance of 35 in the old Bath Street Schoolhouse. That center being selected because the school building at Spring and Second Streets, though much better adapted to the purpose, was considered to be too far out of town. County Superintendent W.M. McFadden was president, J.M. Gwin was vice president and P.C. Tonner was secretary. While a leader in discussions was Dr. Truman H. Rose, who there gave a strong impetus to the founding of the first high school. Soon after this institute was held, the state legislature authorized bonds to the amount of $20,000 for the purpose of erecting another schoolhouse and the building was soon to be known as the Los Angeles High School. W.H. Workman, M. Kramer, and H.D. Barrows were the building committee. Mentioning educators, I may introduce the once well-known name of Professor Adams, an instructor in French who lived here in the early 70s. He was so very urbane that on one occasion, while overdoing his polite attention to a lady, he fell off the sidewalk and badly broke his leg. In a previous chapter, I have spoken of a Frenchman named Lachanus, who killed a fellow countrymen at a wake, the murder being one of a succession of crimes for which he finally paid the penalty at the hands of a vigilance committee in the last lynching witness here. Lachanae lived near where the Westminster Hotel now stands on the northeast corner of Main and Fourth Streets, but he also had a farm south of the city, adjoining that of Jacob Bell, who was once a partner in sheep-raising with John Schumacher. The old man was respectable and quiet, but Lachanae quarreled with him over water taken from the Zonja. Without warning, he rode up to Bell as he was working in his field and shot him dead. But there being no witnesses to the act, this murder remained temporarily a mystery. One evening, as Lachanae, to whom suspicion had been gradually directed, was lounging about in a drunken condition, and he let slip a remark as to the folly of anyone looking for Bell's murderer, and this indiscretion led to his arrest and incarceration. No sooner had the news of Lachanae's apprehension been passed along than the whole town was in a turmoil. A meeting at Stern's Hall was largely attended. A vigilance committee was formed. Lachanae's record was reviewed and his death at the hands of an outraged community was decided upon. Everything being arranged, 300 or more armed men under the leadership of Felix Signorette the barber, councilman in 1863 and proprietor of the Signorette building opposite the Pico House, assembled on the morning of December 17th, marched to the jail, overcame Sheriff Burns and his assistants, took Lachanae out, dragged him along to the corral of Tomlinson and Griffith at the corner of Temple and New High Streets, and there summarily hanged him. Then the mob, without further demonstration, broke up, the participants going their several ways. The reader may have already observed that this was not the first time that the old Tomlinson and Griffith Gate had served this same gruesome purpose. The following January, county judge Y. Sepulveda charged the grand jury to do its duty toward ferreting out the leaders of the mob and so wipe out this reproach to the city. But the grand jury expressed the conviction that if the law had hitherto been faithfully executed in Los Angeles, such scenes in broad daylight would never have taken place. The editor of the news, however, ventured to assert that this report was but another disgrace. End of Chapter 28. Chapter 29 of Sixty Years in Southern California, 1853 to 1913 by Harris Newmark. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Kay Hand. Chapter 29, The Chinese Massacre, 1871. H. Newmark and Company enjoyed associations with nearly all of the most important wool men and rancheros in Southern California, our office for many years being headquarters for these stalwarts, as many as a dozen or more of whom would oft times congregate, giving the store the appearance of a social center. They came in from their ranches and discussed with freedom the different phases of their affairs and other subjects of interest. Wheat, corn, barley, hay, cattle, sheep, irrigation, and kindred topics were passed upon. Although in 1871 the price of wool being out of all proportion to anything like its legitimate value, the uppermost topic of conversation was wool. These meetings were a welcome interruption to the monotony of our work. Some of the most important of these visitors were Jotham, John W., and Llewellyn Bixby, Isaac Lancashim, L.J. Rose, I.N. Van Wise, R.S. Baker, George Carson, Manuel Dominguez, Domingo Amestoy, Juan Matias Sanchez, Dan Freeman, John Rowland, John Reed, Joe Bridger, Louis Phillips, The Brothers Garnier, Remy Nadeau, E.J. Baldwin, P. Banning, and Alessandro Rapetto. There was also not a weather prophet near or far who did not manage to appear at these weighty discussions and offer his oracular opinions about the pranks of the elements, on which occasions one after another these wise men would step to the door, look at the sky and broad landscape, solemnly shake his head and then render his verdict to the speculating circle within. According as the moon emerged so that one could hang something upon it, or in such a manner that water would run off as they pictured it, we were to have dry or rainy weather, nor would volumes of talk shake their confidence. Occasionally I added a word, merely to draw out these weather-beaten and interesting old chaps, but usually I listened quietly and was entertained by all that was said. Hours would be spent by these friends in chatting and smoking the time away, and if they enjoyed the situation half as much as I did, pleasant remembrances of these occasions must have endured with them. Many of those to whom I have referred have ended their earthly careers, while others, living in different parts of the country, are still hail and hearty. A curious character was then here, in the person of the reputed son of a former and brother of the then Lord Clan Morris, an English nobleman. Once a student at Dr. Arnold's famous rugby, he had knocked about the world until, shabbily treated by Dame Fortune, he had become a sheepherder in the employ of the Big Speaks. MJ Newmark, who now came to visit us from New York, was admitted to partnership with H. Newmark & Company, and this determined his future residents. As was natural in a town of Pueblo origin, plays were often advertised in Spanish, one of the placards still preserved, thus announcing the attraction for January 30th at the Merced Theatre. Teatro Merced, Los Ángeles, lunes enero, 30th day, 1871. Primero función de la gran compañía dramática, de Don Tomás Maguire, el empresario veterano de San Francisco, 24 artistas de ambos sexos, todos conocidos como estrellas de primera clase. In certain quarters of the city, the bill was printed in English. Credits for the first move toward the formation of a county medical society here should probably be given to Dr. H. S. Orm, at whose office early in 1871, a preliminary meeting was held. But it was in the office of doctors Griffin and Whitney on January 31st that the organization was affected. My friend Griffin, being elected president, Dr. R. T. Hayes, vice president, Dr. Orm, treasurer, and Dr. E. L. Dow, secretary, thus began a society which, in the intervening years, has accomplished much good work. Late in January, Luther H. Titus, one of several breeders of fast horses, brought from San Francisco by steamer, a fine thoroughbred stallion named Echo, a half-brother of the celebrated Trotter Dexter, which had been shipped from the east in a central Pacific car, especially constructed for the purpose. In itself, something of a wonder then. Sporting men came from a distance to see the horse, but interest was divided between the stallion and a mammoth turkey of a peculiar breed, also brought west by Titus, who prophesied that the bird, when full grown, would tip the beam at from 45 to 50 pounds. Early in February, the first steps were taken to reorganize and consolidate the two banking houses in which Downey and Hellman were interested when it was proposed to start the Bank of Los Angeles with a capital of $500,000. Some $380,000 of this sum were soon subscribed, and by the first week in April, 25% of the capital had been called in. John G. Downey was president and I.W. Hellman was cashier. Their office was in the former rooms of Hellman, Temple and Company. On the 10th of April, the institution was opened as the Farmers and Merchants Bank, and on July 10th, J.G. Downey, Charles D. Common, O.W. Childs, I.M. Hellman, George Hanson, A. Glassel, J.S. Griffin, Jose Mascarel, and I.W. Hellman were chosen trustees. From the first, the bank prospered so that when the crisis of 1875 tested the substantial ability of the financial institutions here, the Farmers and Merchants rode the storm. In April, 1871, Hellman inaugurated a popular policy when he offered to pay interest on time deposits, for it brought many clients who had previously been accustomed to do their banking in San Francisco, and before long, the bank advertised $100,000 to lend on good security. On February 14th, Stephen Samsbury, known as Buckskin Bill, and a man named Carter, murdered the twin brothers of Builderback, who had taken up some land very close to Verdugo, now incorporated in Glendale, and were engaged in chopping wood. The murders coveting the land and planning to sell the fuel. Deputy Sheriff Dunlap went in pursuit of the desperados and noticing some loose earth in the roadbed nearby, he thrust a stick into the ground and so uncovered the bloodstained end of a blanket which led to the finding of the bodies. J.F. Burns, who, at 83 years of age, still manifests his old time spirit, being then Sheriff, pursued Buckskin Bill until the 24th of June. A young soldier on the way to Fort Yuma met Burns at San Pedro, and having agreed to sell him certain information about the fugitive, revealed the fact that Bill had been seen near to Cate, mounted on a horse with his squaw and infant riding a mule. The chase had previously taken the share from Verdugo Canyon to White Pine, Nevada, and back to Los Angeles. Enacting on this new clue, Burns obtained a requisition on the Mexican governor from Judge Ignacio Sepolveda and went to Lower California, where, with Felipe Zarate, a Mexican officer, he located the man after two or three days search. About 20 miles north of Real Castillo, this sheriff found the fugitive, and in the ensuing fight, Sam'sbury accidentally shot himself, and so terribly did the wounded man suffer that he begged Burns to finish him at once. The sheriff, refusing, improved the opportunity to secure a full confession of Bill's numerous crimes, among which figured the killing of five other men besides the builder-backed brothers in different parts of California. After Sam'sbury died, Burns cut off his foot, known to have six toes, and placed it in a mezcal, a popular and strongly intoxicating beverage of the Mexicans. And when later, the sheriff presented this trophy to the good citizens of California, it was accepted as abundant proof that the man he had gone after had been captured and disposed of. The legislature promptly paid Burns nearly $5,000, but Los Angeles County, which had pledged $200 reward, refused to recompense the doughy sheriff and has never since made good its promise. In 1889, Burns was chief of police with Emil Harris as his captain. The earliest move toward the formation of a Los Angeles Board of Trade was made, not in 1883 or even in 1873, when the first Chamber of Commerce began, but in 1781, a fact that seems to be generally forgotten. Late in February of that year, a number of leading shippers came together to discuss trade coast and other interests, and BL Peel moved that a Board of Trade be organized. The motion was carried and the organization was affected, but with the waning of enthusiasm for the improvements proposed, or perhaps through the failure of its members to agree, the embryonic Board of Trade soon died. In February, BL Peel and company installed the Telegraph in their commission office, probably the first instance of a private wire in local business history. At the outset of the somewhat momentous decade of the 70s, Hellman-Hoss and company was established with H.W. Hellman, Jacob Hoss, and B. Cohn partners, their first store being on the east side of Los Angeles Street opposite H. Newmark and companies. Abraham Hoss, who came in December 1873, had a share in his brother's venture from the start, but it was not until 1875 when he bought out Cohn's interest that he became a partner. 10 years after the firm commenced business, that is in 1881, Jacob Baruch, who had come to California with J. Lowe, and with him had made his start at Gallatin, was admitted to partnership, and in 1889, a year after Jacob Hoss's death, Hoss and Baruch bought out H. W. Hellman. Then it was that Hoss, Baruch, and company, a name so agreeably known throughout Southern California, first entered the field, their activity immediately felt, permitting very little of the proverbial grass to grow under one's feet. On January 7th, 1909, Jacob Baruch died. Hoss, since December 12th, 1900, has been a resident of San Francisco. This year, the United States government began the great work of improving Wilmington, or San Pedro Harbor. The gap between Rattlesnake and Deadman's Islands was closed by means of a breakwater, creating a regular current in the channel, and dredging to a depth of 17 or 18 feet, first made it possible for vessels of size to cross the bar at low tide. Among those active in preparing documents for Congress and securing the survey was Judge R. M. Whitney, of whose public services mention has been made, while Phineas Banning at his own expense made trips to Washington in behalf of the project. A genuine novelty was introduced in 1871, when Downs and Bent late in February opened a roller skating rink at Totonia Hall. 25 cents was charged for admission and an additional quarter demanded for the use of skates. Ladies and gentlemen flocked to enjoy the new sensation. A second rink was soon opened in Los Angeles and another in El Monte, and among those who became proficient skaters was Pancho Coronel, one of the social lions of his day. In time, however, the craze waned in what had been hailed as fashionable because of its popularity in the great cities of the East, lost in favor, particularly among those of social pretensions. In March, a call for a meeting to organize an agricultural society for the counties of Los Angeles, Santa Barbara, San Bernardino, Kern, and San Diego brought together a large number of our citizens. L.J. Rose and his neighbor L.H. Titus, Dr. J.S. Griffin, Colonel J.J. Warner, Judge H.K.S. O'Mellveney, Judge A.J. King, John G. Downey, F.N. Slaughter, and many others, including myself, became actively interested and then and there started the Southern District Agricultural Society, which for years contributed so much to advance the agricultural interests of Southern California. Annual trotting races lasting a week lent impetus to the breeding of fine stock for which this part of the state became famous. L.J. Rose was the moving spirit in this enterprise and he it was who induced me and other friends to participate. Even the first ice machine in March did not freeze the price below four cents per pound. Edited by Henry C. Austin, the Evening Express made its first appearance on March 27th. It was started by the printers George N. Jesse Yarnal, George A. Tiffany, J.W. Painter, and Miguel Varelo, but James J. Ayers in 1882, state printer, who was one of the founders of the San Francisco Morning Call, succeeded Austin in 1875, and then the Yarnals and Varelo retired. L.V. Proudholm, better known as Victor Proudholm, a name sometimes but probably incorrectly spelled, Proudholm, who is said to have come from France about the middle of the 30s, died here on May 8th. His wife was a Spanish woman and for a while they resided on the east side of Main Street between Rakina and First, not far from my brother's store. As a rather active member of the French colony, he was a man in good standing and was engaged, it seems to me, in the wine industry. He also owned some land near San Bernardino and was continually visiting at that place. On May 27th, S.J. Millington announced as the pioneer dancing master of California, opened a dancing academy at Sterns's Hall and at once it sprang into social favor. He had morning classes for children and evening classes for adults. I happened to recall the circumstances more clearly for I was one of his committee of patrons. Dances, by the way, were given frequently and were often attended in costume and even in disguise. I remember such an occasion in the early 70s when elaborate toilets and a variety of dress marked in advance in these harmless diversions. Conspicuous among the guests was John Jones, elderly and seldom given to frivolity who appeared in the character of the father of his country. In early June, a Chinese junk cruising in search of abalone attracted no little attention at San Pedro as primitive and clumsy specimen of marine architecture. The sudden and abnormal demand for the abalone shell offered such large returns as to tempt men to take desperate chances in hunting for them among the rocks. Sometime in the 70s, a China man searching near San Diego thrust his hand into an open shell and the abalone closed upon his wrist with such an irresistible grip that the unfortunate shell hunter was held fast until overtaken by the rising tide and drowned. For many years, Los Angeles book lovers were supplied by merchants who sold other things or who conducted a limited loan library in conjunction with their business. Such a circulating collection, Samuel Hellman displayed in February, 1871. The first exclusively book and periodical store was opened in the same year by Broderick and Riley, adjoining the post office on Spring Street. Albert Fenner Kirchival, who took up his residence in 1871 on the west side of Pearl Street near the end of sixth, on what was formerly known as the Gelchich Place, first came to California, Hangtown, in 1849 and experienced much the same kind of mining adventure as inspired Bret Hart. On a second visit to the coast, Kirchival raised strawberries and early tomatoes for which he found a ready sale in San Francisco and in his spare moment, he wrote poems, collected and published in 1883 under the title of Dolores, some of which rather cleverly reflect California life. On June 19th, the Tutonia Concordia Society merged with the Los Angeles Turnverine, forming the Turnverine, Germania and about the same time the original home of the Verene, a frame building on South Spring Street was erected. In that year also, the first German school was founded, the sessions being conducted at the old round house. Having had no fitting celebration of the fourth of July for years, a number of citizens in 1871 called a meeting to consider the matter and AJ Johnston, L. Lichtenberger, W. H. Perry, J. M. Griffith, John Wilson, O. W. Childs and myself were appointed to make arrangements. A list of 40 or 50 leading merchants willing to close their places of business on Independence Day was drawn up, a program was easily prepared, and the music, display of flags and bunting and the patriotic addresses awakened after such a neglect of the occasion knew and edifying emotions. Slight regard was formerly paid by officers to the safety or life of the Indian who had a persistent weakness for alcohol. And when citizens did attend to the removal of these inebriates, they frequently looked to the municipality for compensation. For instance, at a meeting of the Common Council in July, Pete Wilson presented a bill of $2.5 for the removal of a nuisance, which nuisance upon investigation was shown to have been a drunken squall whom he had retired from the street. The council, after debating the momentous question of reimbursement, finally reached a compromise by which the city saved just 25 cents. Alexander Bell died on July 24th after a residence of 29 years in Los Angeles. Beginning with the 70s, attention was directed to Santa Monica as a possible summer resort, but it was some years before many people saw in the bay and its immediate environment the opportunities upon which thousands have since seized. In the summer of 1871, less than 20 families, the majority intents sojourned there among the sycamore groves in the canyon where J. M. Harnad had a bar and refreshment parlor. The attractions of beach and surf, however, were beginning to be appreciated and so were the opportunities for shooting, at tells and elsewhere, and on Sundays, two or 300 excursionists frequently visited that neighborhood, Reynolds, the liverymen, doing a thriving business carrying people to the beach. Speaking of this gradual awakening to the attractions of Santa Monica, I recall that school children of the late 60s held their picnics at the canyon, going down on crowded stages where the choicest seats were on the box, and that one of the most popular drivers of that period was Tommy Ocampo. He handled the rains with the dexterity of a hank monk, and before sunrise, young America would go over to the corral, there to wait long and patiently in order to get an especially desirable seat on Tommy's stage. With the completion of the Los Angeles and San Pedro Railroad, the excursions to Catalina began to be in vogue, but as the local population was small, considerable effort was needed sometimes to secure enough patrons to make the trips pay. The San Excursion for Sunday, August 13th, was advertised by the skipper of the steamer, Vaquero, a couple of dollars for the round trip being charged with half price for children, but by Saturday morning, the requisite number of subscribers had not been obtained and the excursion was called off. Otto J. and Oswald F. Zahn, sons of Dr. Johann Karl Zahn, who came here about 1871, were carrier pigeon fanciers and established a service between Avalon and Los Angeles, fastening their messages written on tissue paper by delicate wire to the bird's legs. For some time, the Catalina pigeon messengers, as they were called, left Avalon late in the afternoon, after the last steamer, bringing news that appeared in the Los Angeles newspapers of the following morning. Usually the birds took a good hour and crossing the channel, but on one occasion, Blue Jim, the champion, covered the distance of 48 miles in 50 minutes. On the evening of August 23rd, the announcement came over the wires of Don Able-Sternes' death in San Francisco at five o'clock that afternoon at the Grand Hotel. Late in October, his body was brought to Los Angeles for final interment, the tombstone having arrived from San Francisco a week or two previously. Awesome indeed was the scene that I witnessed when the ropes sustaining the 800 pound metallic casket snapped, pitching the coffin and its grim contents into the grave. I shall never forget the unearthly shriek of Donia Arcadia, as well as the accident itself. With the wane of summer, we received the startling news of the death through Indians of Frederick Loring, the young journalist and author well-known in Los Angeles, who was with the United States exploring expedition to Arizona as a correspondent of Appleton's Journal. Bootless, coatless, and everything but lifeless, as he put it, he had just escaped perishing in Death Valley when the stage party was attacked by Apaches and Lori and four other passengers were killed. In September, during Captain George J. Clarke's administration as postmaster, foreign money orders began to be issued here for the first time, payable only in Great Britain and Ireland, 25 cents being charged for sending $10 or less. And shortly afterward, international money orders were issued for Germany and some other continental countries. Then five or 600 letters for Los Angeles County were looked upon as a rather large dispatch by one steamer from San Francisco and the North. And the cancelling of from $12 to $15 worth of stamps a day was regarded as big business. Vincent Collier, the peace commissioner sent out with General O. O. Howard by the government in 1868, who eventually made himself most unpopular in Arizona by pleading the case of the scalping Apaches in the fall of 1871, put up at the Pico House. When public feeling led one newspaper to suggest that if the citizens wished to see a monster, they had only to stand before the hotel and watch Collier pass to and fro. In the fall, tidings of Chicago's awful calamity by fire reached Los Angeles, but strange to say no public action was taken until the editor of the Los Angeles News on October 12th gave vent to his feelings in the following editorial. Three days ago, the press of the city called upon the public generally to meet at a stated hour last evening at the county courtroom to do something towards alleviating the sufferings of the destitute thousands in Chicago. The calamity which has overtaken that unfortunate city has aroused the sympathy of the world and the heart and pulse of civilized humanity voluntarily respond, extending existence in deeds as well as in words. From all parts of the globe where the name of Chicago is known, liberal donations flow into a common treasury. We had hoped to be able to add the name of Los Angeles among the list as having done its duty. But in whatever else she may excel, her charity is a dishonorable exception. Her bowels are absolute strangers to sympathy when called upon to practically demonstrate it. At the place of meeting, instead of seeing a multitude, we were astonished to find but three persons, V's, Governor Downey, John Jones, and a gentleman from Riverside who was on a visit here. Anything more disgraceful than this apathy on the part of her inhabitants she could not have been guilty of. For her selfishness, she justly deserves the fearful fate that has to be fallen, the helpless one that now lies stricken in the dust.  Chicago, our response to your appeal is, starve, what do we care? This candid rebuke was not without effect. A committee was immediately formed to solicit contributions from the general public. Within an hour, a tidy sum had been raised. By October 18th, the fund had reached over $2,000, exclusive of $250 given by the Hebrew Benevolent Society and still another $100 raised by the Jewish ladies. About the 21st of October, a war broke out near Nigger Alley between two rival factions of the Chinese on account of the forcible carrying off of one of the company's female members. And the steamer in California soon brought a batch of Chinamen from San Francisco. Since down, it was claimed to help wreak vengeance on the abductors. On Monday, October 23rd, some of the contestants were arrested, brought before Justice Gray and released on bail. It was expected that this would end the trouble, but at five o'clock the next day, the factional strife broke loose again, and officers, accompanied by citizens, rushed to the place to attempt an arrest. The Chinese resisted, and Officer Jesus Bill Durain was shot in the right shoulder and wrist, while his 15-year-old brother received a ball in the right leg. Robert Thompson, a citizen who sprang to Bal Durain's assistance, was met by Chinamen with two revolvers and shot to death. Other shots from Chinese barricaded behind some iron shutters wounded a number of bystanders. News of the attacks and counter-attacks spread like wildfire, and a mob of a thousand or more frenzied beyond control, armed with pistols, guns, knives, and ropes, and determined to avenge Thompson's murder, assembled in the neighborhood of the disturbance. While this solid phalanx was being formed around Nigger Alley, a Chinamen, waving a hatchet, was seen trying to escape across Los Angeles Street, and Romo Sorcerel, at the expense of some ugly cuts on the hand, captured him. Emile Harris then rescued the Mongolian, but a detachment of the crowd yelling hang him, shoot him, over-powdered Harris at Temple and Spring Street, and dragged the trembling wretch up Temple to New High Street, where the familiar framework of the corral gates suggested its use as a gallows. With the first suspension, the rope broke, but the second attempt to hang the prisoner was successful. Other Chinamen, whose roofs had been smashed in, were rushed down Los Angeles Street to the south side of commercial, and there, near Gowler's Wagon Shop, between wagons stood on end, were hung. Alarmed for the safety of their cook, Sing Tai, the Juan LaFrencoes hid the Mongolian for a week until the excitement had subsided. Henry T. Hazard was lolling comfortably in a shaving saloon under the luxurious lather of the barber when he heard of the riot, and arriving on the scene, he mounted a barrel and attempted to remonstrate with the crowd. Some friends soon pulled him down, warning him that he might be shot. A. J. King was at supper when word was brought to him that Chinese were slaughtering white people, and he responded by seizing his rifle and two revolvers. In trying one of the latter, however, it was prematurely discharged, taking the tip off a finger and putting him or to combat. Sheriff Burns could not reach the scene until an hour after the row started, and many Chinamen had already taken their celestial flight. When he arrived, he called for a Pasi Kamitatus to assist him in handling the situation, but no one responded. He also demanded from the leader of the mob and others that they disperse, but with the same negative result. About that time, a party of rioters started with the Chinamen up Commercial Street to Maine, evidently bent on hanging him to the Tomlinson and Griffith gates, and when Burns promised to attempt a rescue if he had but two volunteers, Judge R. M. Whitney and James Goldsworthy responded, and the Chinamen was taken from his tormentors and lodged in jail. Besides Judge Whitney, Cameron E. Tom and H. C. Austin displayed great courage in facing the mob, which was made up of the scum and dregs of the city, and Sheriff Burns is also entitled to much credit for his part in preventing the burning of the Chinese quarters. All the efforts of the better element, however, did not prevent one of the most disgraceful of all disturbances, which had occurred since my arrival in Los Angeles. On October 25th, when coroner Joseph Kurtz impaneled his jury, 19 bodies of Chinamen alone were in evidence, and the verdict was death through strangulation by persons unknown to the jury. Emile Harris' testimony at the inquest that but one of the 22 or more victims deserved his fate about hits the mark and confirms the opinion that the slight punishment to half a dozen of the conspirators was very inadequate.  Anticipating no further trouble, however, I went home to dinner. When I returned to town, news of the riot had spread, and with my neighbors, Karen E. Tom and John G. Downey, I hurried to the scene. It was then that I became eyewitness to the heroic, if somewhat comical parts played by Tom and Burns. The former having climbed up to the top of a box, harangued the crowd, while the sheriff, who had succeeded in mounting a barrel, was also addressing the tumultuous rabble in an effort to restore order. Unfortunately, this receptacle had been coopered to serve as a container, not as a rostrum, and the head of the cask under the pressure of 200 pounds or more of official avois de poix suddenly collapsed, and I were worthy guardian of the piece dropped with accelerated speed, clear through to the ground, and quite unintentionally, for the moment at least, turned a grim tragedy into a grotesque comedy. Following this massacre, the Chinese government made such vigorous protests to the United States that the Washington authorities finally paid a large indemnity. During these negotiations, Chinese throughout the country held lamentation services for the lost Angeles victims, and on August 2nd, 1872, four Chinese priests came from San Francisco to conduct the ceremonies. In 1870, FPF Temple, who had seen constructed two sections of the building now known as Temple Block, made the fatal blunder of accepting the friendly advice that led him to erect the third section at the junction of Spring and Main Streets, and to establish there in a bank under the name of Temple and Workman. The building, costing in the neighborhood of $150,000, was all that could have been desired, proving by long odds the most ornamental edifice in the city, and when, on November 23rd, 1871, the bank was opened in its comfortable quarters on the Spring Street side of the block, nothing seemed wanting to success. The furnishings were elaborate, one feature of the office outfit being a very handsome counter of native cedar. It is cited in advance in decoration over the primitive bare or painted wood then common here. Neither Temple, who had sold his fine ranch near Fort Tejon to embark in the enterprise, nor Workman, had had any practical experience in either finance or commerce, and to make matters worse, Workman, being at that time a very old man, left the entire management to his son-in-law Temple, in whom he had full confidence. It soon became evident that anybody could borrow money with or without proper security, and unscrupulous people hastened to take advantage of the situation. In due season, I shall tell what happened to this bank. In the preceding Spring, when the coastline stage companies were still the only rivals to the steamers, a moment favoring an opposition boat was started, and by June, leading shippers were discussing the advisability of even purchasing a competitive steamer, all the vessels up to that time having been owned by companies or individuals with headquarters in the Northern Metropolis. Matthew Keller was then in San Francisco, and having been led to believe that a company could be financed, books were open for subscriptions in Los Angeles, Santa Barbara, San Luis Obispo, and elsewhere. For lack of the necessary support, this plan was abandoned, but late in July a meeting was held in the Bella Union to further consider the matter. Among those present was George Wright, long engaged in coast shipping, and he proposed to sell the control of the Olympia. H. Newmark & Company, being considerably interested in the movement, declared themselves ready to cooperate in improving the situation, for which reason great surprise was expressed when, in December 1871, BL Peel, the commissioned merchant, made an attack upon us, openly charging that although the largest shippers in the city, we had revoked our pledge to sustain the opposition to high freight rates, and so had contributed towards defeating the enterprise. It is true that we finally discouraged the movement, but for a good and sufficient reason. Wright was in the steam ship business for anything but his health. His method was to put on a tramp steamer and then cut passenger and freight rates ridiculously low until the regular line would buy him out, a project which, on former occasions, had caused serious disturbances to business. When, therefore, Wright made this offer in 1871, H. Newmark & Company, fourth with, refused to participate. I shall show that when greater necessity required it, we took the lead in a movement against the Southern Pacific, which, for lack of loyalty on the part of many of the other shippers, met not only with disastrous failure, but considerable pecuniary loss to ourselves. On December 18th, 1871, Judge Murray Morrison died. Three days later, his wife, Jenny, whom we knew as the attractive daughter of Dr. Thomas J. White, also breathed her last. End of Chapter 29. Chapter 30 of 60 Years in Southern California, 1853 to 1913 by Harris Newmark. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Kay Hand. Chapter 30, The Wool Craze, 1872 to 1873. As already stated, the price of wool in 1871 was exceedingly high and continued advancing until in 1872, when, as a result, great prosperity in Southern California was predicted. Enough wool had been bought by us to make what at that time was considered a very handsome fortune. We commenced purchasing on the sheep's back in November and continued buying everything that was offered until April, 1872, when we made the first shipment, the product being sold at 45 cents per pound. As far as I am aware, the price of wool had never reached 50 cents anywhere in the world, it being ordinarily worth from 10 to 12 cents, and without going into technicalities, which would be of no interest to the average reader. I will merely say that 45 cents was a tremendously high figure for dirty, burry, California wool in the grease. When the information arrived that this sale had been affected, I became wool crazy. The more so, since I knew that the particular shipment referred to was of very poor quality. Colonel R. S. Baker, who was living on his ranch in Kern County, came to Los Angeles about that time, and we offered him 50 cents a pound for Beale and Baker's clip, amounting to 175,000 pounds. His reply was that it would be impossible to sell without consulting Beale, but Beale proved as wool crazy as I and would not sell. It developed that Beale and Baker did not succeed in affecting a sale in San Francisco, where they soon offered their product, and that they concluded to ship it to Boston, the New England Metropolis then, as now, being the most important wool center in the United States. Upon its arrival, the wool was stored, and there it remained until, as fate would have it, the entire shipment was later destroyed by the great Boston fire of 1872. As a result of this tremendous conflagration, the insurance company which carried their policy failed, and Beale and Baker met with a great loss. The brothers Philippe, Eugene, and Camille Garnier of the Encino Ranch, who, while generally operating separately, clubbed together at that time in disposing of their product, had a clip of wool somewhat exceeding 150,000 pounds. The spokesman for the three was Eugene, and on the same day that I made Colonel Baker the offer of 50 cents, I told Eugene that I would allow him 48 and a half cents for the Garnier product. This offer he disdainfully refused, returning immediately to his ranch. And now, as I look back upon the matter, I do not believe that in my entire commercial experience I ever witnessed anything demonstrating so thoroughly, as did these wool transactions, the monstrous greed of man. The sequel, however, points the moral. My offer to the Garnier brothers was made on a Friday. During that day and the next, we received several telegrams, indicating that the crest of the craze had been reached, and that buyers refused to take hold. On Monday, following the first visit of Eugene Garnier, he again came to town and wanted me to buy their wool at the price which I had quoted him on Friday. But by that time, we had withdrawn from the market. My brother wired that San Francisco buyers would not touch it. Hence the Garnier brothers also shipped their product east. And after holding it practically a full year, finally sold it for 16 and a half cents a pound in currency, which was then worth 85 cents on the dollar. The year 1872 is on record as the most disastrous wool season in our history when millions were lost. And H. Newmark and Company suffered their share in the disaster. It was in March that we purchased from Louis Wolfskill through the instrumentality of L. J. Rose, the Santa Anita Rancho, consisting of something over 8,000 acres, paying him $85,000 for this beautiful domain. The terms agreed upon were $20,000 down and four equal quarterly payments for the balance. In the light of the aftermath, the statement that our expectations of prospective wool profits inspired this purchase seems ludicrous, but it was far from laughable at the time. For it took less than 60 days for H. Newmark and Company to discover that buying ranches on any such basis was not a very safe policy to follow and would, if continued, result in disaster. Indeed, the outcome was so different from our calculations that it pinched us somewhat to meet our obligations to Wolfskill. This purchase, as I shall soon show, proved a lucky one and compensated for the earlier nervous and financial strain. John Simmons, who drove H. Newmark and Company's truck and slept in a barn in my backyard on Main Street, was so reliable a man that we made him overseer of the ranch. When we sold the property, Simmons was engaged by Lazard Ferreres, the San Francisco bankers, to do special service that involved the carrying of large sums of money. When we bought the Santa Anita, there were five eucalyptus or blue gum trees growing near the house. I understood at the time that these had been planted by William Wolfskill from seeds sent to him by a friend in Australia and that they were the first eucalyptus trees cultivated in Southern California. Sometime early in 1875, the Forest Grove Association started the first extensive tract of eucalyptus trees seen in Los Angeles. And in a decade or two, the eucalyptus had become a familiar object. One tree belonging to Howard N. Smith, florists at the corner of Olive and Knight Streets, attaining, footnote, blown down in a windstorm on the night of April 13th, 1915, after a growth of 19 years, a height of 134 feet. On the morning of March 26th, Los Angeles was visited by an earthquake of sufficient force to throw people out of bed. Many men, women, and children seeking safety by running out in their nightclothes. A day or two afterward, excited writers came in from the Owens River Valley, bringing reports which showed the quake to have been the worst, so far as loss of life was concerned that had afflicted California since the memorable catastrophe of 1812. Intending thereby to encourage the building of railroads, the legislature on April 4th, 1870, authorized the various boards of supervisors to grant aid whenever the qualified voters so elected. This seemed a great step forward, but anti-railroad sentiment, as in the case of Banning's line, again manifested itself here. The Southern Pacific, just incorporated as a subsidiary of the Central Pacific, was laying its tracks down the San Joaquin Valley, yet there was grave doubt whether it would include Los Angeles or not. It contemplated a line through Tehichipi Pass, but from that point two separate surveys had been made, one by way of Soledad Pass via Los Angeles, through costly tunnels and over heavy grades, the other straight to the needles over an almost level plane along the 35th parallel, as anticipated by William H. Seward in his Los Angeles speech. At the very time when every obstacle should have been removed, the opposition so crystallized in the legislature that his successful effort was made to repeal the subsidy law. But thanks to our representatives, the measure was made ineffective in Los Angeles County, should the voters specifically endorse the project of a railroad. In April, 1872, Tom Mott and B.D. Wilson wrote Leland-Stanford that a meeting of the taxpayers, soon to be called, would name a committee to confer with the railroad officials, and Stanford replied that he would send down E.W. Hyde to speak for the company. About the 1st of May, however, a few citizens gathered for consultation at the Board of Trade Room, and at that meeting it was decided unanimously to send to San Francisco a committee of two, consisting of Governor Downey and myself, there to convey to the Southern Pacific Company the overtures of the city. We accordingly visited Collis P. Huntington, whose headquarters were at the Grand Hotel, and during our interview we canvassed the entire situation. In the course of this interesting discussion, Huntington displayed some engineers' maps and showed us how, in his judgment, the railroad, if constructed to Los Angeles at all, would have to enter the city. When the time for action arrived, the Southern Pacific built into Los Angeles along the lines indicated in our interview with Huntington. On Saturday afternoon, May 18th, 1872, a public meeting was held in the Los Angeles Courthouse. Governor Downey called the assembly to order, whereupon HKS O. Mulvaney was elected president and Major Ben C. Truman, secretary. Speeches were made by Downey, Phineas Banning, B.D. Wilson, E.J.C. Kenwin, and C.H. Larrabee, and resolutions were adopted pledging financial assistance from the county, provided the road was constructed within a given time. A committee was then appointed to seek general information concerning railroads likely to extend their lines to Los Angeles. And on that committee, I had the honor of serving with F.P.F. Temple, A.F. Coronel, HKS O. Mulvaney, J.G. Downey, S.B. Caswell, J.M. Griffith, Henry Dalton, Andres Pico, L.J. Rose, General George Stoneman, and D.W. Alexander. A few days later, Wilson Rose and W.R. Olden of Anaheim were sent to San Francisco to discuss terms with the Southern Pacific. And when they returned, they brought with them Stanford's representative, Hyde. Temple, O. Mulvaney, and I were made a special committee to confer with Hyde in drawing up ordinances for the county, and these statutes were immediately passed by the supervisors. The Southern Pacific agreed to build 50 miles of its main trunk line through the county with a branch line to Anaheim. And the county, among other conditions, was to dispose of its stock in the Los Angeles and San Pedro Railroad to the Southern Pacific Company. When all this matter was presented to the people, the opposition was even greater than in the campaign of 1868. One newspaper, The Evening Express, while declaring that railway companies are soulless corporations invariably selfish with a love for money, even maintained that, because they are rich, they have no more right to build to us than has Governor Downey to build our schoolhouses. Public addresses were made to excited, demonstrative audiences by Henry T. Hazard, R. M. Whitney, and others who favored the Southern Pacific. On the evening of November 4th, or the night before the election, the Southern Pacific adherents held a torchlight procession at a mass meeting, at the same time illuminating the Pueblo with the customary bonfires. When the vote was finally counted, it was found that the Southern Pacific had won by a big majority, and thus was made the first concession to the railroad, which has been of such paramount importance in the development of this section of the state. In 1872, Nathaniel C. Carter, who boasted that he made for the government the first American flag woven by machinery, purchased and settled upon a part of the Flores Rancho near San Gabriel. Through wide advertising, Carter attracted his Massachusetts friends to this section, and in 1874, he started the Carter excursions and brought train loads of people to Los Angeles. Terminating a series of wanderings by sea and by land during which he had visited California in 1849, John Lang, father of Gustave J., once a police commissioner, came to Los Angeles for permanent residence in 1872, bringing a neat little pile of gold. With part of his savings, he purchased the five acres since known as the Laurel Tract on 16th Street, where he planted an orchard, and some of the balance he put into a loan for which, against his will, he had to take over the lot on Spring Street between second and third, where the Lang Building now stands. Soon after his advent here, Lang found himself one of four persons of the same name, which brought about such confusion between him, the pioneer at Lang's station, and two others, that the bank always labeled him Lang Number One, while it called the station master Lang Number Two. In 1866, Lang had married, in Victoria, Mrs. Rosine Everhart, a sister of Mrs. Kiln Messer, and his wife refusing to live at the Lonesome Ranch, Lang bought for $400 the lot on Fort Street, on which Talley's theater now stands, and built there a modest home from which he went out daily to visit his orchard. Being of an exceedingly studious turn of mind, Lang devoted his spare time to profitable reading, and to such an extent had he excluded himself that when he died on December 9th, 1900, he had passed full 30 years here without having seen Santa Monica or Pasadena, nor had he entered the courtroom more than once, and then only when compelled to go there to release some property seized upon for taxes, remaining unpaid by one of the other, John Lang's. Regarded by his family as idealistic and kind-hearted, John Lang was really such a hermit that only with difficulties were friends enough to found who could properly serve as pallbearers. On June 2nd, B.F. Ramirez and others launched the Spanish newspaper La Cronica, from the control of which Ramirez soon retired to make way for E.F. de Céliz. Under the latter's leadership, the paper became notable as a coast organ for the Latin race. Almost simultaneously, A.J. King and A. Waite published their city directory. On the 17th of July, our family circle was gladdened by the wedding festivities of Caspar Cone and Miss Holda, a sister of M.A. Newmark. The bride had been living with us for some time as a member of our family. I have spoken of the attempt made in 1859 to found a public library. In 1872, there was another agitation that led to a mass meeting on December 7th in the Old Merced Theater on Main Street. And among others present were Judge Ignacio Saples Veda, General George H. Stoman, Governor John G. Downey, Henry Kirk Waite, Bent, S.B. Caswell, W.J. Broderick, Colonel G.H. Smith, W.B. Lawler, and myself. The Los Angeles Library Association was formed and Downey, Bent, Broderick, Caswell, and I were appointed to Canvas for funds and donations of books. $50 was charged for a life membership and $5 for yearly privileges. And besides these subscriptions, donations, and loans of books maintained the library. The institution was established in four small dark rooms of the Old Downey block on Temple and Spring Streets where the federal building now stands and where The Times, then the youngest newspaper in Los Angeles was later housed. And there, J.C. Littlefield acted as the first librarian. In 1874, the state legislature passed an enabling act for a public library in Los Angeles. And from that time on, public funds contributed to the support of the worthy undertaking. On January 1st, 1873, M.A. Newmark, who had come to Los Angeles eight years before, was admitted into partnership with H. Newmark & Company. And three years later, on February 27th, he married Ms. Harriet, daughter of J.P. Newmark. Samuel Cohn, having died, the associates then were Caspar Cohn, M.J. Newmark, M.A. Newmark, and myself. On February 1st, 1873, two job printers, Yarnel and K-Style, who had opened a little shop at 14 Commercial Street, began to issue a diminutive paper called The Weekly Mirror with four pages, but 10 by 13 inches in size and three columns to the page. And this miniature news sheet, falling wet from the press every Saturday, was distributed free. Sources greeted the advertising adventure in the journal was known as the smallest newspaper on the coast. A month later, William M. Brown joined the firm thenceforth called Yarnel, K-Style, and Brown. On March 19th, the publishers added a column to each page, announcing, rather prophetically perhaps, their intention of attaining greatness that should know no obstacle or limit. In November, the mirror was transferred to a building on Temple Street, near the Downey Block, erected for its special needs. And there it continued to be published until, in 1887, it was housed with the times. Nels Williamson, to whom I have referred, married a native Californian and their oldest daughter, Mariana, in 1873, became the wife of Antonio Franco Coronel, the gay couple settling in one of the old Pueblo, Adobe's, on the present site of Bishop and Company's factory. And there they were visited by Helen Hunt Jackson when she came here in the early 80s. In 1886, they moved opposite to the home that Coronel built on the southwest corner of Seventh Street and Central Avenue. Educated here at the public and the sister's schools, Mrs. Coronel was a recognized leader in local society, proving very serviceable in the preparation of Ramona and receiving in return due acknowledgement from the distinguished authorists who presented her with the first copy of the book published. Daniel Freeman, a Canadian who came in 1873, was one of the many to be attracted to California through Nordhoff's famous book. After looking at many ranches, Freeman inspected the Sentinella with Sir Robert Burnett, the Scotch owner then living there. Burnett insisted that the ranch was too dry for farming and cited his own necessity of buying hay at $30 a ton. But Freeman purchased the 25,000 acres, stocked them with sheep and continued long in that business, facing many a difficulty attendance upon the dry seasons, notably in 1875 to 76 when he lost fully 22,000 head. L. H. Titus, who bought from J. D. Woodworth the land in his St. Gabriel orchard and vineyard, early used iron water pipes for irrigation. A bold venture of the same year was the laying of iron water pipes throughout East Los Angeles at great expense by Dr. John S. Griffin and Governor John G. Downey. About the same time, the directors of the Orange Grove Association, which, as we shall later see, founded Pasadena, used iron pipe for conducting water, first to a good reservoir and then to their lands for irrigating. In 1873 also, the Alhambra tract, then beginning to be settled as a fashionable suburb of Los Angeles, obtained its water supply through the efforts of B. D. Wilson and his son-in-law, J. DeBarth Shorb, who constructed large reservoirs near the St. Gabriel Mission, piped water to Alhambra and sold it to local customers. James R. Toberman, destined to be twice re-chosen as mayor of Los Angeles, was first elected in 1873, defeating Cristobal Aguilar, an honored citizen of early days, who had thrice been mayor and was, again, a candidate. Toberman made a record for fiscal reform by reducing the city's indebtedness over $30,000 and leaving a balance of about $25,000 in the treasury, while at the same time he caused the tax rate during his administration to Dwindle from $1.60 per hundred to $1. Toberman Street bears this mayor's name. In 1873, President Grant appointed Henry Kirk White Bent, who had arrived in 1868, postmaster of Los Angeles. These several agitations for protection against fire had, for a long time, no tangible results, due most probably to the lack of water facilities, but after the incorporation of the Los Angeles Water Company and the introduction of two or three hydrants, 38 loyal citizens of the town in April organized themselves into the first volunteer fire company, popularly termed the 38s, imposing a fee of a dollar a month. Some of the yeomen who, thus, set the ball of rolling were Major Ben C. Truman, Tom Rowan, W.J. Broderick, Jake Kurtz, Charlie Miles, George Tiffany, Aaron Smith, Henry T. Hazard, Cameron E. Tom, Fred Eaton, Matthew Keller, Dr. J.S. Crawford, Sidney Lacey, John Cashin, and George P. McClain. As such was their devotion to the duty of both allaying and producing excitement, that it was a treat to stand by the side of the dusty street and watch the boys bowling along answer the fire bell. The fat as well as the lean hitched to their one horse cart. This cart pulled by men was known as the jumper, a name widely used among early volunteer firemen and so applied because when the puffing and blowing enthusiasts drew the cart after them by means of ropes, the two-wheeled vehicle jumped from point to point along the uneven surface of the road. The first engine of the 38s, known as Fire Engine Number One, was housed, I think, back of the Pico House, but was soon moved to a building on Spring Street near Franklin and close to City Hall. About 1873 or possibly 1874, shrimps first appeared in the local market. In 1873, the Los Angeles Daily News suspended publication. A.J. King had retired on the 1st of January, 1870, to be succeeded by Charles E. Bean. On October 10th, 1872, Alonzo Waites had sold his interest and Bean alone was at the helm when the ship foundered. To resume the narrative of the Daily Star. In July, Henry Hamilton sold both the paper and the job printing office for $6,000 to Major Ben C. Truman and the latter conducted the star for three or four years, filling it brimful of good things just as his more fiery predecessor had done. John Lang, Number Two, the cultivator of fruit on what was afterward Washington Gardens, who established Lang's station and managed the soul for springs and the hotel there, in July, Kilday Bear said to have been one of the grizzliest grizzlies ever seen on the coast. Lang started after Mr. Bruin, and during an encounter in the San Fernando Range that nearly cost his life, finally shot him. The bear tipped the beam, forbid it that anyone should question the reading of the scales, at 2,350 pounds. And later, as gossip had it, the pelt was sold to a museum in Liverpool, England. This adventure, which will doubtless bear investigation, recalls another hunt by Colonel William Butts, later editor of the Southern Californian, in which the dodie, Colonel, while rolling over and over with the infuriated beast, plunged a sharp blade into the animal's vitals, but only after Butts' face, arm, and legs had been horribly lacerated. Butts Bear, a hundred hunters in San Luis Obispo County might have told you, weighed 2,100 pounds or more. Dismissing these bear stories, some persons may yet be interested to learn of the presence here in earlier days of the ferocious wild boar. These were met with for a long time in the wooded districts of certain mountainous land tracks owned by the Abilas, and their wild swine were hunted as late as 1873. In the summer, D. M. Berry, General Nathan Kimball, Calvin Fletcher, and J. H. Baker came to Los Angeles from Indianapolis, representing the California Colony of Indiana, a cooperative association which proposed to secure land for Hoosiers, who wished to found a settlement in Southern California. The scheme originated with Dr. Thomas Bolch-Eliot of Indianapolis, Berry's brother-in-law, and an army surgeon who had established the first grain elevator in Indiana, and whose wife, now ill, could no longer brave the severe winters of the Middle West. Soon after their arrival, Wall Street's crash brought ruin to many subscribers, and the members of the committee found themselves stranded in Los Angeles. Berry opened a real estate office on Main Street near Arcadia for himself and the absent, Eliot, and one day, at the suggestion of Judge B. S. Eaton, Baker visited the San Pasquale Rancho, then in almost primeval glory, and was so pleased with what he saw that he persuaded Fletcher to join Dr. Eliot, Thomas H. Croft of Indianapolis and himself in incorporating the San Gabriel Orange Grove Association, with 100 shares at $250 each. The association then bought out Dr. J. S. Griffin's interest, or some 4,000 acres in the ranch, paying about $12.50 per acre, after which some 1,500 of the choicest acres were subdivided into tracks from 15 to 60 acres each. The San Pasquale settlement was thus called, for a while, the Indiana Colony, though but a handful of Hoosiers had actually joined the movement. The doctor and Mrs. Eliot, reaching Los Angeles on December 1st, 1874, immediately took possession of their grant on the banks of the Arroyo Secoe near the Fremont Trail. On April 22nd, 1875, the Indiana Colony was discontinued as the name of the settlement. It being seen that a more attractive title should be selected. Dr. Eliot wrote to a college mate in the East for an appropriate Indian name, and Pasadena was adopted as Chippewa for Crown of the Valley. Linguists, I am informed, do not endorse the word as Indian of any kind, but it is a musical name and now famous in satisfactory. Dr. Eliot threw all his energy into the cultivation of oranges, but it was not long before he saw, with a certain prophetic vision, that not the fruit itself, but the health giving and charming qualities of the San Pasquale climate were likely to prove the real assets of the colonists and the foundation of their prosperity. Pasadena and South Pasadena therefore owe their existence largely to the longing of a frail Indiana woman for a less rigorous climate and her dream that in the sunny Southland along the Pacific, she should find health and happiness. M.J. Newmark was really instrumental, more than anyone else, in first persuading D.M. Barry to come to California. He had met Barry in New York and talked to him of the possibility of buying the Santa Anita Rancho, which we were then holding for sale. And on his return, he traveled homeward by way of Indiana, stopping off at Indianapolis in order to bring Barry out here to see the property. Owing to the high price, asked however, Barry and his associates could not negotiate the purchase and so the matter was dropped. Lawson D. Hollingsworth and his wife, Lucinda Quakers from Indiana, opened the first grocery at the Crossroads in the New Settlement and for many years were popularly spoken of as Grandpa and Grandma Hollingsworth. Dr. H.T. Hollingsworth, their son, now of Los Angeles, kept the post office in the grocery, receiving from the government for his services, the munificent sum of 25 cents a week. The summer of 1873 was marked by the organization of a corporation designed to advance the general business interests of Los Angeles and vicinity. This was the Chamber of Commerce or as it was at first called, the Board of Trade and had its origin in a meeting held on August 1st in the old courthouse on the site of the present Bullard block. Ex-Governor John G. Downey was called to the chair and J. M. Griffith was made Secretary Pro Tem. Before the next meeting, over 100 representative merchants registered for membership in on August 9th, a constitution and bylaws were adopted, a Board of 11 directors elected and an admission fee of $5 agreed upon. Two days later, the organization was incorporated with J. G. Downey, S. Lazard, M.J. Newmark, H. W. Hellman, P. Bodry, S. B. Casswell, Dr. J. S. Griffin, R. M. Whitney, C. C. Lips, J. M. Griffith and I. W. Lord as directors and these officers chose Solomon Lazard as the first president and I. W. Lord as the first secretary. Judge Whitney's office in the temple block was the meeting place. The Chamber unitedly and enthusiastically set to work to push forward the commercial interests of Southern California in the first appropriation by Congress for the survey and improvement of San Pedro Harbor was affected mainly through the new society's efforts. Descriptive pamphlets setting forth the advantages of our locality were distributed throughout the East and steps were taken to build up the trade with Arizona and the surrounding territory. In this way, the Chamber of Commerce labored through two or three succeeding years until bank failures, droughts and other disasters of which I shall speak through the cold blanket of discouragement over even so commendable enterprise and for the time being its activities ceased. On October 3rd, C. A. Stork founded the Daily and Weekly Herald, editing the paper until August 1874 when J. M. Bassett became its editor. In a few months, he retired and John M. Baldwin took up the quill. In the autumn of 1873, Barnard Brothers set in operation the first woolen mill here built in 1868 or 1869 by George Hansen and his associates in the canal and reservoir company. It was located on the ditch along the canyon of the Orroyo de los Reyes, now Figueroa Street, and for 15 years or more was operated by the Barnards and the Colters after which it was turned into an ice factory. In March of the preceding year, I sent my son Maurice to New York expecting him there to finish his education. It was thought best however to allow him in 1873 to proceed across the ocean and on to Paris where he might also learn the French language at that time and especially valuable acquisition in Los Angeles. To this latter decision I was led when Zadok Khan, grand rabbi of Paris and afterward grand rabbi of France and brother-in-law of Eugene Meyer signified his willingness to take charge of the lad and for three years the grand rabbi and his excellent wife well fulfilled their every obligation as temporary guardians. How great an advantage indeed this was will be readily recognized by all familiar with the published life of Zadok Khan in his reputation as a scholar and pulpit orator. He was a man of the highest ideals as was proved in his unflinching activity with Emile Zola in the defense and liberation of the long persecuted Dreyfus. Sometime in December, Elsie Tibbetts, one of the early colonists at Riverside received a small package from a friend at Washington D.C. after having driven 65 miles to Los Angeles to get it and he took it out of the Little Express office without attracting any more attention than to call forth the observation of the clerk that someone must care a lot about farming to make so small fuss about two young trees.  The package in question contained two small orange trees from Bahia Brazil brought to the United States by the agricultural department and destined to bestow upon Tibbetts in the honor of having originated the naval orange industry of California. In 1873, drum barracks at Wilmington were offered by the government at public auction and what had cost a million dollars or so to install was knocked down for less than $10,000 to B.D. Wilson who donated it for educational purposes. During the winter of 1873 to 74, the Southern Pacific commenced the construction of its Anaheim branch and the first train from Los Angeles to the thriving expectant German settlement made the run in January 1875. Max Kohn, a nephew, arrived in Los Angeles in 1873 and clerked for H. Newmark and Company for a number of years. In December 1885, when I retired from the wholesale grocery business, Max became a full partner. In 1888, failing health compelled him, although a young man, to seek European medical advice and he entered a sanatorium at Falkenstein in the Taunus Mountains where in 1889 he died. End of chapter 30.