STEAM-WAGON--ODD CHARACTERS
1860
Early in 1860, Phineas Banning and J. J. Tomlinson, the energetic
rivals in lighterage and freighting at San Pedro, embarked as lumber
merchants, thereby anticipating the enormous trade that has flowed for
years past from the North through Los Angeles to Southern California
and Arizona. Having many teams, they hauled lumber, when traffic was
not sufficient to keep their wagon-trains busy, from the harbor to the
city or even, when there was need, to the _ranchos_. It must have been
in the same year that F. P. F. Temple, at a cost of about forty
thousand dollars for lumber alone, fenced in a wide acreage, at the
same time building large and substantial barns for his stock. By the
summer of that year, Banning was advertising lumber, delivered in Los
Angeles; and from October 1st, Banning & Hinchman had an office near
the northern junction of Main and Spring streets. A couple of years
before, Banning in person had directed the driving of seventeen mule
teams, from San Pedro to Fort Yuma, covering, in twelve or thirteen
days, the two hundred and thirty miles of barely passable road. The
following March, Banning and Tomlinson, who had so often opposed each
other even in the courts, came to an understanding and buried the
hatchet for good.
At this time, Joseph Everhardt, who, with Frederick W. Koll, had
conducted the Lafayette Hotel, sold out and moved to San Francisco,
marrying Miss R. Mayer, now John Lang's widow, sister-in-law of Kiln
Messer. Later, Everhardt went to Sonoma and then to Victoria, B. C.,
in each place making his mark; and in the latter city he died.
Like both Messer and Lang, Everhardt had passed through varied and
trying experiences. The owner of the Russ Garden restaurant in 1849,
in lively San Francisco, he came to Los Angeles and took hold of the
hotel Lafayette. With him was a partner named Fucht; but a free fight
and display of shooting irons, such as often enlivened a California
hotel, having sent the guests and hangers-on scurrying to quarters,
induced Fucht to sell out his interests in very short order, whereupon
Everhardt took in with him Frederick W. Koll, who lived on a site now
the southeast corner of Seventh and Spring streets where he had an
orange-grove.
Pursuing Indians was dangerous in the extreme, as Robert Wilburn found
when he went after some twenty head of cattle stolen from Felix
Bachman by Pi-Ute or Paiute Indians in January, 1860, during one of
their marauding expeditions into California. Wilburn chased the red
men but he never came back; and when his body was found, it was
pierced with three or four arrows, probably shot at him simultaneously
by as many of the cattle-thieves.
Don Tomás A. Sanchez, Sheriff from 1860 to 1867, had a record for
physical courage and prowess, having previously been an officer under
Pico in the Mexican War days, and having later aided Pico in his
efforts to punish Barton's murderers. Sanchez had property; and in
1887 a patent was granted his estate for four thousand or more acres
in the ranch known as _Ciénega ó Paso de la Tijera_.
Destructive fires in the open country, if not as common as now, still
occasionally stirred our citizens. Such a fire broke out in the San
Fernando Valley in the middle of July, and spread so rapidly that a
square mile and a half of territory was denuded and charred. Not only
were there no organized means to fight such fires, but men were
compelled to sound the alarm through couriers on horseback; and if the
wind happened to be blowing across the plains, even the fleetest
horseman had all he could do to avoid the flames and reach in time the
widely-separated _rancheros_. Here I may add that as late as the
sixties all of the uninhabited parts of Los Angeles, especially to
the of Main Street, were known as plains, and "crossing the plains"
was an expression commonly used with a peculiarly local significance.
So wretched were the roads in the early decades after my arrival, and
so many were the plans proposed for increasing the rapidity of travel,
that great curiosity was excited in 1860 when it was announced that
Phineas Banning had bought a "steam-wagon" and would soon introduce a
kind of vehicle such as Los Angeles, at least, had never before seen.
This steam-wagon was a traction engine built by J. Whitman & Sons, at
Leeds, England, and was already on its way across the ocean. It had
been ordered by Richard A. Ogden, of San Francisco, for the Patagonia
Copper Mining Company, a trial before shipping having proved that,
with a load of thirty-eight tons, the engine could attain a speed of
five miles an hour; and Banning paid handsomely for the option of
purchasing the vehicle, on condition that it would ultimately prove a
success.
The announcement was made in April, and by early June the engine had
reached San Francisco where it made the run to Mission Dolores in
three-quarters of an hour. All the San Francisco papers told of "the
truly wonderful machine," one reporter averring that "the engineer had
so perfect control that a visit was made to various parts of the city,
to the astonishment and gratification of the multitude;" and since
these accounts were immediately copied by the Los Angeles papers
(which added the official announcement that Captain Hughes had loaded
the engine on board his schooner, the _Lewis Perry_, and was bringing
it south as fast as he could), popular excitement rose like the
mercury in summer, and but one more report was needed to make it the
absorbing talk of the hour. That came on the twenty-eighth of July,
when the _Star_ announced: "The steam-wagon has arrived at San Pedro;"
and it was not long before many persons went down to the port to get a
sight of the wonderful object.
And wait they did. Although the _Star_ said that "all our citizens
were anxiously, hourly, expecting to see Major Banning heave in sight
at the foot of Main Street," no Banning hove! Instead, on the fourth
of August, the same _Star_ broke forth with this lament: "The
steam-wagon is at San Pedro, and we regret to learn that it is likely
to remain there. So far, all attempts to reach this city with freight
have failed." And that was the end of the steam-wagon experiment here.
In every community there are characters who, for one reason or
another, develop among their fellows a reputation for oddity. We have
all seen the good-natured, rather stout old gentleman, whose claim to
dignity is his old-fashioned Prince Albert and rather battered-looking
silk hat, but who, although he boasts many friends, is never
successful in the acquisition of this world's goods. We have seen,
too, the vender of ice-cream, _tamales_ or similar commodity, who in
his youth had been an opera singer or actor, but whose too intensive
thirst rendered him impossible in his profession and brought him far
down in the world. Some were dangerous criminals; some were harmless,
but obnoxious; others still were harmless and amusing. Many such
characters I have met during my sixty years in Los Angeles; and each
filled a certain niche, even those whose only mission was to furnish
their fellows with humor or amusement having thus contributed to the
charm of life.
Viejo Cholo, or Old Half-breed, a Mexican over sixty years of age who
was never known by any other name, was such an eccentric character. He
was half blind; wore a pair of white linen pantaloons, and for a
mantle used an old sheet. This he threw over his shoulders; and thus
accoutered, he strutted about the streets like a Spanish cavalier. His
cane was a broom-handle; his lunch-counter, the swill-bucket; and when
times were particularly bad, Viejo begged. The youngsters of the
pueblo were the bane of Cholo's existence and the torment of his
infirmity and old age.
Cholo was succeeded by Pinikahti, who was half Indian and half
Mexican. He was not over four feet in height and had a flat nose, a
stubby beard and a face badly pockmarked; and he presented,
altogether, as unkempt and obnoxious an appearance as one might
imagine. Pinikahti was generally attired in a well-worn straw hat, the
top of which was missing, and his long, hair stuck out in clumps and
snarls. A woolen undershirt and a pair of overalls completed his
costume, while his toes, as a rule, protruded from his enormous boots.
Unlike Viejo Cholo, Pinikahti was permitted to go unmolested by the
juvenile portion of the population, inasmuch as, though half-witted,
he was somewhat of an entertainer; for it was natural for him to play
the flute and--what was really interesting--he made his own
instruments out of the reed that grew along the river banks. Pinikahti
cut just the holes, I suppose, that produced what seemed to him proper
harmony, and on these home-made flutes performed such airs as his
wandering fancy suggested. He always played weird tunes and danced
strange Indian dances; and through these crude gifts he became, as I
have said, sufficiently popular to enjoy some immunity. Nevertheless,
he was a professional beggar; and whatever he did to afford amusement,
was done, after all, for money. This was easily explained, for money
alone would buy _aguardiente_, and Pinikahti had little use for
anything else. _Aguardiente_, as the word was commonly used in
Southern California, was a native brandy, full of hell fire; and so
the poor half-breed was always drunk. One day Pinikahti drank a glass
too much, and this brought about such a severance of his ties with
beautiful Los Angeles that his absorption of one spirit released, at
last, the other.
Sometime in the eventful sixties, a tall, angular, muscular-looking
woman was here, who went by the singular _sobriquet_ of Captain Jinks,
a title which she received from a song then very popular, the first
couplet of which ran something like this:
I'm Captain Jinks of the Horse Marines,
I feed my horse on pork and beans!
She half strode, half jerked her way along the street, as though
scanning the lines of that ditty with her feet. She was strong for
woman's rights, she said; and she certainly looked it.
Chinamen were not only more numerous by 1860, but they had begun to
vary their occupations, many working as servants, laundrymen or farm
hands. In March, a Chinese company was also organized to compete for
local fish trade.
In 1860, Émile Bordenave & Company opened the Louisiana Coffee Saloon
as a French restaurant. Roast duck and oysters were their specialty,
and they charged fifty cents a meal. But they also served "a plate at
one bit."[20] Some years later, there was a two-bit restaurant known
as Brown's on Main Street, near the United States Hotel, where a good,
substantial meal was served.
James, often called Santiago Johnson, who, for a short time prior to
his death about 1860 or 1861, was a forwarder of freight at San Pedro,
came to Los Angeles in 1833 with a cargo of Mexican and Chinese goods,
and after that owned considerable ranch property. In addition to
ranching, he also engaged extensively in cattle-raising.
Peter, popularly known as Pete or Bully Wilson, a native of Sweden,
came to Los Angeles about 1860. He ran a one horse dray; and as soon
as he had accumulated sufficient money, he bought, for twelve hundred
dollars, the southeast corner of Spring and First streets, where he
had his stable. He continued to prosper; and his family still enjoy
the fruits of his industry.
The same year, George Smith started to haul freight and baggage. He
had four horses hitched to a sombre-looking vehicle nicknamed the
_Black Swan_.
J. D. Yates was a grocer and provision-dealer of 1860, with a store on
the Plaza.
I have referred to Bishop Amat as presiding over the Diocese of
Monterey and Los Angeles; but Los Angeles was linked with Monterey,
for a while, even in judicial matters. Beginning with 1860 or 1861
(when Fletcher M. Haight, father of Governor H. H. Haight, was the
first Judge to preside), the United States Court for the Southern
District of California was held alternately in the two towns
mentioned, Colonel J. O. Wheeler serving as Clerk and the Court for
the Southern term occupying seven rooms of the second story of John
Temple's Block. These alternate sessions continued to be held until
about 1866 when the tribunal for the Southern District ceased to exist
and Angeleños were compelled to apply to the court in San Francisco.
For years, such was the neglect of the Protestant burial ground that
in 1860 caustic criticism was made by each newspaper discussing the
condition of the cemetery: there was no fence, headstones were
disfigured or demolished, and there was little or no protection to the
graves. As a matter of fact, when the cemetery on Fort Hill was
abandoned, but few of the bodies were removed.
By 1860, the New England Fire Insurance Company, of Hartford,
Connecticut, was advertising here through its local agent, H.
Hamilton--our friend of the Los Angeles _Star_. Hamilton used to
survey the applicants' premises, forward the data to William Faulkner,
the San Francisco representative, who executed the policy and mailed
the document back to Los Angeles. After a while, Samuel Briggs, with
Wells Fargo & Co., represented the Phoenix Insurance Company.
H. Newmark & Company also sold insurance somewhat later, representing
the Commercial Union Insurance Company. About 1880, however, they
disposed of their insurance interests to Maurice Kremer, whose main
competitor was W. J. Brodrick; and from this transaction developed the
firm of Kremer, Campbell & Company, still in that business. Not only
in this connection but elsewhere in these memoirs it may be noted how
little specialization there was in earlier days in Los Angeles; in
fact it was not until about 1880 that this process, distinctive of
economic progress, began to appear in Los Angeles. I myself have
handled practically every staple that makes up the very great
proportion of merchandising activity, whereas my successors of to-day,
as well as their competitors, deal only in groceries and kindred
lines.
Two brothers, Émile and Théophile Vaché, in the fall of 1860, started
what has become the oldest firm--Vaché Frères--in the local wine
business, at first utilizing the Bernard residence at Alameda and
Third streets, in time used by the Government as a bonded warehouse.
Later, they removed to the building on Aliso Street once occupied by
the Medical College, where the cellars proved serviceable for a
winery. There they attempted the manufacture of cream of tartar from
wine-crystals, but the venture was not remunerative. In 1881, the
Vachés, joined by their brother Adolphe, began to grow grapes in the
Barton Vineyard in San Bernardino County, and some time afterward they
bought near-by land and started the famous Brookside Vineyard. Émile
is now dead; while Théophile, who retired and returned to Europe in
1892, retaining an interest in the firm of T. Vaché & Company, passes
his hours pleasantly on the picturesque island of St. George d'Oléron,
in the Charente Inférieure, in his native France.
On September 21st, Captain W. S. Hancock, who first came to Los
Angeles in connection with the expedition against the Mojave Indians
in 1858, sought to establish a new kind of express between Los Angeles
and Fort Mojave, and sent out a camel in charge of Greek George to
make the trial trip. When they had been gone two and a half days, the
regular express messenger bound for Los Angeles met them at Lane's
Crossing, apparently in none too promising a condition; which later
gave rise to a report that the camel had died on the desert. This
occasioned numerous newspaper squibs _à propos_ of both the speed and
the staying powers of the camel as contrasted with those of the burro;
and finally, in October, the following announcement appeared placarded
throughout the town:
BY POULTERER, DE RO &. ELDRIDGE ----OFFICE AND
SALESROOM, CORNER CALIFORNIA & FRONT STREETS, SAN
FRANCISCO.
PEREMPTORY SALE OF BACTRIAN CAMELS IMPORTED FROM THE AMOOR
RIVER EX CAROLINE E. FOOTE.
ON WEDNESDAY, OCT. 10, 1860, WE WILL SELL AT PUBLIC AUCTION
IN LOTS TO SUIT PURCHASERS, FOR CASH, 13 BACTRIAN CAMELS,
From a cold and mountainous country, comprising 6 males and
7 females, (5 being with young,) all in fine health and
condition.
* * * For further particulars, inquire of the Auctioneers.
In 1858, Richard Garvey came to Los Angeles and entered the Government
service as a messenger, between this city and New Mexico, for Captain
W. S. Hancock. Later, he went to the Holcomb Valley mines, where he
first met Lucky Baldwin; and by 1872 he had disposed of some San
Bernardino mine properties at a figure which seemed to permit his
retirement and ease for the rest of his life. For the next twenty
years, he was variously employed, at times operating for Baldwin.
Garvey is at present living in Los Angeles.
What was one of the last bullfights here, toward the end of September,
when a little child was trodden upon in the ring, reminds me not only
of the succeeding sports, including horse-racing, but as well that
Francis Temple should be credited with encouraging the importation and
breeding of good horses. In 1860 he paid seven thousand dollars, then
considered an enormous sum, for _Black Warrior_; and not long
afterward he bought _Billy Blossom_ at a fancy figure.
A political gathering or two enlivened the year 1860. In July, when
the local sentiment was, to all appearances, strongly in favor of
Breckenridge and Lane, the Democratic candidates for President and
Vice-President, one hundred guns were fired in their honor; and great
was the jubilation of the Democratic hosts. A later meeting, under the
auspices of the Breckenridge Club, was held in front of the Montgomery
saloon on Main Street. Judge Dryden presided, and Senator Milton S.
Latham was the chief speaker. A number of ladies graced the occasion,
some seated in chairs near by and others remaining in their vehicles
drawn up in a semicircle before the speaker's stand. As a result of
all this effort, the candidates in question did lead in the race here,
but only by four votes. On counting the ballots the day after
election, it was found that Breckenridge had two hundred and
sixty-seven votes, while Douglas, the Independent Democratic nominee,
had polled two hundred and sixty-three. Of permanent interest,
perhaps, as showing the local sentiment on other questions of the
time, is that Lincoln received in Los Angeles only one hundred and
seventy-nine votes.
Generally, a candidate persuaded his friends to nominate and endorse
him, but now and then one came forward and addressed the public
directly. In the fall of 1860, the following announcement appeared in
the _Southern News_:
TO THE VOTERS OF LOS ANGELES TOWNSHIP:
I am a candidate for the office of Justice of the Peace,
and I desire to say to you, frankly, that I want you all to
vote for me on the 6th of November next. I aspire to the
office for two reasons,--first, because I am vain enough to
believe that I am capable of performing the duties
required, with credit to myself and to the satisfaction of
all good citizens; second, because I am poor, and am
desiring of making an honest living thereby.
WILLIAM G. STILL.
During my first visit to San Francisco, in the fall of 1853, and while
_en route_ to Los Angeles, my attention was called to a line of
electric telegraph, then just installed between the Golden Gate and
the town, for use in reporting the arrival of vessels. About a month
later a line was built from San Francisco to Sacramento, Stockton and
around to San José. Nothing further, however, was done toward reaching
Southern California with the electric wire until the end of May or the
beginning of June, 1860, when President R. E. Raimond and Secretary
Fred. J. McCrellish (promoters of the Pacific & Atlantic Telegraph
Company, organized in 1858 to reach San António, Texas, and Memphis,
Tennessee) came to Los Angeles to lay the matter before our citizens.
Stock was soon subscribed for a line through the city and as far as
Fort Yuma, and in a few days Banning had fifty teams ready to haul the
telegraph poles, which were deposited in time along the proposed
route. In the beginning, interest was stimulated by the promise that
the telegraph would be in operation by the Fourth of July; but
Independence Day came and went, and the best that the telegraph
company could do was to make the ambiguous report that there were so
and so many "holes in the ground." Worse than that, it was announced,
toward the end of July, that the stock of wire had given out; and
still worse, that no more could be had this side of the Atlantic
States! That news was indeed discouraging; but by the middle of
August, twenty tons of wire were known to be on a clipper bound for
San Francisco, around the Horn, and five tons were being hurried here
by steamer. The wire arrived, in due season, and the most energetic
efforts were made to establish telegraphic communication between Los
Angeles and San Francisco. It was while McCrellish was slowly
returning to the North, in June, that I met him as narrated in a
previous chapter.
Finally, at eight o'clock on October 8th, 1860, a few magic words from
the North were ticked out in the Los Angeles office of the telegraph
company. Two hours later, as those familiar with our local history
know, Mayor Henry Mellus sent the following memorable message to H. F.
Teschemacher, President of the San Francisco Board of Supervisors:
Allow me, on behalf of the citizens of Los Angeles, to send
you greeting of fellowship and good-feeling on the
completion of the line of telegraph which now binds the two
cities together.
Whereupon, the next day, President Teschemacher (who, by the way, was
a well-known importer, having brought the first almond seed from the
Mediterranean in the early fifties) replied to Mayor Mellus:
Your despatch has just been received. On behalf of the
citizens of San Francisco, I congratulate Los Angeles,
trusting that the benefit may be mutual.
A ball in Los Angeles fittingly celebrated the event, as will be seen
from the following despatch, penned by Henry D. Barrows, who was then
Southern California correspondent of the _Bulletin_:
LOS ANGELES, October 9, 1860, 10.45 A. M.
Here is the maiden salutation of Los Angeles to San
Francisco by lightning! This despatch--the first to the
press from this point--the correspondent of the _Bulletin_
takes pleasure in communicating in behalf of his
fellow-citizens. The first intelligible communication by
the electric wire was received here last night at about
eight o'clock, and a few hours later, at a grand and
brilliant ball, given in honor of the occasion, despatches
were received from San Francisco announcing the complete
working of the entire line. Speeches were made in the
crowded ball-room by E. J. C. Kewen and J. McCrellish. News
of Colonel Baker's election in Oregon to the United States
Senate electrified the Republicans, but the Breckenridges
doubted it at first. Just before leaving yesterday, Senator
Latham planted the first telegraph pole from this point
east, assisted by a concourse of citizens.
Barrows' telegram concluded with the statement, highly suggestive of
the future commercial possibilities of the telegraph, that the steamer
_Senator_ would leave San Pedro that evening with three thousand or
more boxes of grapes.
On October 16th, the steamer _J. T. Wright_, named after the
boat-owner and widely advertised as "new, elegant, and fast," arrived
at San Pedro, in charge of Captain Robert Haley; and many persons
professed to see in her appearance on the scene new hope for
beneficial coastwise competition. After three or four trips, however,
the steamer was withdrawn.
Leonard John Rose, a German by birth, and brother-in-law of H. K. S.
O'Melveny, arrived with his family by the Butterfield Stage Route in
November, having fought and conquered, so to speak, every step of his
way from Illinois, from which State, two years before, he had set out.
Rose and other pioneers tried to reach California along the
Thirty-fifth parallel, a route surveyed by Lieutenant Beale but
presenting terrific hardships; on the sides of mountains, at times,
they had to let down their wagons by ropes, and again they almost died
of thirst. The Mojave Indians, too, set upon them and did not desist
until seventeen Indians had been killed and nine whites were slain or
wounded, Rose himself not escaping injury. With the help of other
emigrants, Rose and his family managed to reach Albuquerque, where
within two years in the hotel business he acquired fourteen thousand
dollars. Then, coming to Los Angeles, he bought from William Wolfskill
one hundred and sixty acres near the old Mission of San Gabriel, and
so prospered that he was soon able to enlarge his domain to over two
thousand acres. He laid out a splendid vineyard and orange grove, and
being full of ambition, enterprise and taste, it was not long before
he had the show-place of the county.
Apparently, Temple really inaugurated his new theater with the coming
to Los Angeles in November of that year of "the Great Star Company of
Stark & Ryer," as well as with the announcement made at the time by
their management: "This is the first advent of a theatrical company
here." Stark & Ryer were in Los Angeles for a week or two; and though
I should not vouch for them as stars, the little hall was crowded each
night, and almost to suffocation. There were no fire ordinances then
as to filling even the aisles and the window-sills, nor am I sure that
the conventional fire-pail, more often empty than filled with water,
stood anywhere about; but just as many tickets were sold, regardless
of the seating capacity. Tragedy gave way, alternately, to comedy, one
of the evenings being devoted to _The Honeymoon_; and as this was not
quite long enough to satisfy the onlookers, who had neither trains nor
boats to catch, there was an after-piece. In those days, when Los
Angeles was entirely dependent on the North for theatrical and similar
talent, it sometimes happened that the steamer was delayed or that the
"star" failed to catch the ship and so could not arrive when expected;
as a result of which patrons, who had journeyed in from the ranches,
had to journey home again with their curiosity and appetite for the
histrionic unsatisfied.
Prisoners, especially Indians, were employed on public works. As late
as November, 1860, the Water Overseer was empowered to take out any
Indians who might be in the calaboose, and to use them for repairing
the highways and bridges.
About 1860, Nathan Jacoby came to Los Angeles, on my invitation, as I
had known him in Europe; and he was with me about a year. When I sold
out, he entered the employ of M. Kremer and later went into business
for himself. As the senior partner of Jacoby Brothers, he died
suddenly in 1911. Associated with Nathan at different periods were his
brothers, Herman, Abraham, Morris, Charles and Lesser Jacoby, all of
them early arrivals. Of this group, Charles and Lesser, both active in
business circles in their day, are also dead.
Toward the end of 1860, Solomon Lazard returned to France, to visit
his mother; but no sooner had he arrived at his old home and
registered, according to law, with the police, than he was arrested,
charged with having left his fatherland at the age of seventeen,
without having performed military duty. In spite of his American
citizenship, he was tried by court-martial and sentenced to a short
imprisonment; but through the intervention of the United States
Minister, Charles J. Faulkner--the author of the Fugitive Slave Law of
1850--and the clemency of the Emperor Napoleon III., he was finally
released. He had to furnish a substitute, however, or pay a fine of
fifteen hundred francs; and he paid the fine. At length,
notwithstanding his unpleasant experience, Lazard arrived in Los
Angeles about the middle of March, 1861.
Tired of the wretched sidewalks, John Temple, in December, 1860, set
to work to introduce an improvement in front of his Main Street block,
an experiment that was watched with interest. Bricks were covered with
a thick coating of asphalt brought from La Brea Ranch, which was
smoothed while still warm and then sprinkled with sand; the
combination promising great durability. In the summer season, however,
the coating became soft and gluey, and was not comfortable to walk
upon.
I have already spoken of the effect of heat and age on foodstuffs such
as eggs and butter, when brought over the hot desert between San
Bernardino and Los Angeles. This disadvantage continued for years; nor
was the succeeding plan of bringing provisions from San Francisco and
the North by way of the ocean without its obstacles. A. Ulyard, the
baker, realized the situation, and in December advertised "fresh
crackers, baked in Los Angeles, and superior to those half spoiled by
the sea voyage."
Previous to the days of warehouses, and much before the advent of
railroads, the public hay-scale was an institution, having been
constructed by Francis Mellus in the dim past. Exposed to the
elements, it stood alone out in the center of Los Angeles Street,
somewhat south of Aliso; and in the lawless times of the young town
was a silent witness to the numerous crimes perpetrated in the
adjacent Calle de Los Negros. Onto its rough platform the neighboring
farmers drove their heavy loads, often waiting an hour or two for the
arrival of the owner, who alone had the key to its mysterious
mechanism. Speaking of this lack of a warehouse brings to my mind the
pioneer of 1850, Edouard Naud, who first attracted attention as a
clever pastryman with a little shop on Commercial Street where he made
a specialty of lady-fingers--selling them at fifty cents a dozen.
Engaging in the wool industry, he later become interested in wool and
this led him in 1878 to erect Naud's warehouse on Alameda Street, at
present known as the Union Warehouse.[21] Naud died in 1881. His son,
Edward, born in Los Angeles, is famous as an amateur _chef_ who can
prepare a French dinner that even a professional might be proud of.
In May, as elsewhere stated, Henry Mellus was elected Mayor of Los
Angeles; and on the twenty-sixth of December he died--the first to
yield that office to the inexorable demands of Death. The news of his
demise called forth unfeigned expressions of regret; for Mellus was
not only a man of marked ability, but he was of genial temperament and
the soul of honor.
FOOTNOTES:
[20] Twelve and one-half cents.
[21] Destroyed by fire on September 22d, 1915.