THE SOUTHERN PACIFIC
1876
Before the completion of the San Fernando tunnel, a journey East from
Los Angeles by way of Sacramento was beset with inconveniences. The
traveler was lucky if he obtained passage to San Fernando on other
than a construction train, and twenty to twenty-four hours, often at
night, was required for the trip of the Telegraph Stage Line's
creaking, swaying coach over the rough road leading to Caliente--the
northern terminal--where the longer stretch of the railroad north was
reached. The stage-lines and the Southern Pacific Railroad were
operated quite independently, and it was therefore not possible to buy
a through-ticket. For a time previously, passengers took the stage at
San Fernando and bounced over the mountains to Bakersfield, the point
farthest south on the railroad line. When the Southern Pacific was
subsequently built to Lang's Station, the stages stopped there; and
for quite a while a stage started from each side of the mountain, the
two conveyances meeting at the top and exchanging passengers. Once I
made the journey north by stage to Tipton in Tulare County, and from
Tipton by rail to San Francisco. The Coast Line and the Telegraph Line
stage companies carried passengers part of the way. The Coast Line
Stage Company coaches left Los Angeles every morning at five o'clock
and proceeded _via_ Pleasant Valley, San Buenaventura, Santa Bárbara,
Guadalupe, San Luis Obispo and Paso de Robles Hot Springs, and
connected at Soledad with the Southern Pacific Railroad bound for San
Francisco by way of Salinas City, Gilroy and San José; and this line
made a speciality of daylight travel, thus offering unusual
inducements to tourists. There was no limit as to time; and passengers
were enabled to stop over at any point and to reserve seats in the
stage-coaches by giving some little notice in advance.
In 1876, I visited New York City for medical attention and for the
purpose of meeting my son, Maurice, upon his return from Paris. I left
Los Angeles on the twenty-ninth of April by the Telegraph Stage Line,
traveling to San Francisco and thence east by the Central Pacific
Railroad; and I arrived in New York on the eighth of May. My son
returned, June 29th, on the steamer _Abyssinia_; and a few days later
we started for home. While in Brooklyn, on June 4th, I attended
Plymouth Church and heard Henry Ward Beecher preach on "Serve Thy
Master with a Will." His rapid transition from the pathetic to the
humorous, and back to the pathetic, was most effective.
Our itinerary brought us to the Centennial Exhibition in Philadelphia,
on the Fourth of July; and aside from the peculiar satisfaction at
being present on historic ground upon that anniversary, I recall, with
pleasure, many experiences and impressions new and interesting,
notwithstanding the inconvenience caused by the great crowds. At the
Exhibition, which had a circumference of only three and a half miles,
I saw California's small but very creditable display; and I remember
my astonishment at seeing a man seated before an apparatus, apparently
in the act of printing letters. He was demonstrating an early
typewriter, and I dictated to my wife half a dozen lines which he
rapidly typed upon paper. Of the various nations, the Japanese and the
Chinese attracted me most. Machinery Hall, with its twelve hundred
machines all run by one huge Corliss engine, was as noisy as it was
interesting. The New York _Herald_ and the _Times_ were printed there
daily. In the Art Gallery there was one marble figure so beautifully
draped that a young lady, passing by, said: "Father, why don't they
remove that lace shawl from the statue?" During the evening, on the
balconies of the Union League Club, we enjoyed a torchlight parade
never to be forgotten.
On our way West we stopped at Salt Lake City; and as we had been
informed that Brigham Young would be at the Opera House that evening,
we attended the performance. I have forgotten the name of the play,
but Rose Eytinge was the star. Brigham sat in his private box with two
of his wives; and as it was a very hot night in July and the building
was packed with people, his wives were both fanning him assiduously
and otherwise contributing to his comfort. The following day we called
at his residence to see him, expecting to renew an acquaintanceship
established years before; but to our regret he was ill and could not
receive us. A few months later, he died.
Leaving Salt Lake City early in August, we traveled by the Central
Pacific to San Francisco where several days were very pleasantly spent
with my brother and his family, and from there we left for Los
Angeles, taking the Southern Pacific to its terminus at Lang's
Station. Proceeding over the mountain by stage, we arrived at what is
now the south end of the long tunnel and there boarded the train for
this city.
Among others who went from Los Angeles to the Philadelphia Centennial
was Ben C. Truman. He took with him specimens of choice California
plants, and wrote letters, from various stations on the way, to his
paper, the _Star_. Governor and Mrs. Downey, whom I met in New York in
June, were also at the Exhibition.
Ben Truman's visit recalls the enterprise of preparing a booklet for
circulation at the exposition setting forth the advantages of Los
Angeles, and the fact that the _Star_ was the first to propose sending
copies of the local newspapers to Philadelphia, at the same time
agreeing to contribute its share. In that connection, it also referred
to a previous, similar experiment, endorsed by Truman, in these words:
This City has never been so prosperous as when the Chamber
of Commerce sent fifty papers each week for one year of the
_Herald_, _Express_ and _Star_, to the leading hotels and
libraries throughout the country, a movement inaugurated
and carried out by Mr. M. J. Newmark. Those few papers,
distributed where they would do the most good, filled our
hotels and boarding houses, and sent joy to the hearts of
the real estate dealers. It's a most trifling thing to do,
and "there's millions in it."
Another interesting experiment in early advertising, by means of the
stereopticon, was made in 1876 when the Los Angeles photographer,
Henry T. Payne, exhibited at Philadelphia a fine selection of views
designed to inform the spectator about Southern California and to
attract him hither. Toward the end of May, Payne left for the East,
taking with him a first-class stereopticon and nearly a thousand
lantern slides of the old wet-plate process, the views being the
product of Payne's own skill and labor.
For some time prior to 1876, the suitable observance here of the
anniversary of the Nation's independence had been frequently
discussed, and when James J. Ayers called a meeting of citizens in the
County Court House, on the evening of April 29th, and another on May
6th, it was decided to celebrate the Fourth of July in a manner worthy
of the occasion. Committees were appointed to arrange the details; and
when the eventful day arrived, the largest throngs in the City's
history assembled to give vent to their patriotism.
The procession--led by Grand Marshal H. M. Mitchell, assisted by
Marshals Eugene Meyer, Francisco Guirado, John F. Godfrey and Otto von
Ploennies, mounted on the best-groomed steeds of the Fashion
Stables--formed towards ten o'clock and was half an hour in passing
the corner of Temple, Spring and Main streets. The Woods Opera House
Band, the Los Angeles Guard and the Los Angeles Rifleros assisted. The
parade wended its tortuous way from the Aliso Mills in the northeast
to the Round House in the south.
An interesting feature of the march was the division of Mexican War
Veterans. Forty-two of these battle-scarred soldiers, a number of whom
had become prominent in civic life, lined up, among them General
George Stoneman, Captain William Turner, Dr. J. S. Griffin, Major
Henry Hancock, S. C. Foster, John Schumacher, L. C. Goodwin, D. W.
Alexander and A. W. Timms. Another feature worthy of note was the
triumphal chariot of the French Benevolent Society, in which three
young ladies represented respectively the Goddess of Liberty, France
and America. Fire Engine Company No. 38, Confidence Engine Company No.
2 and the Hook and Ladder Company formed another division, followed by
several societies and secret orders. In one float thirteen young
ladies represented the thirteen original colonies and in another
twenty-five damsels portrayed the rest of the States. There were also
the Forty-niners, the butchers and the other tradesmen; while George
and Martha Washington accompanied the Philadelphia Brewery!
For this local celebration of the Centennial, streets, public
buildings, stores and private residences were beautifully decorated,
portraits of Washington being everywhere. Hellman, Haas & Company, S.
C. Foy, the Los Angeles Social Club and H. Newmark & Company were
among those who especially observed the day. There was a triple arch
on Main Street, with a center span thirty feet wide and thirty feet
high, and statues of Washington, Grant and others. The railroad depots
and trains were also fittingly adorned; and at the residence and
grounds of Consular Agent Moerenhaut, the Stars and Stripes, with the
French tricolor, were displayed under the legend, "Friends Since One
Hundred Years." The Pico House was perhaps the most elegantly adorned,
having a column, a flagstaff and a Liberty cap, with the enthusiastic
legends:
1776. 1876. Now for 1976!
To the patrons of the Pico House: May you live 100 years!
No North, no South, no East, no West!
[Illustration: William Pridham]
[Illustration: Benjamin Hayes]
[Illustration: Isaac Lankershim]
[Illustration: Rabbi A. W. Edelman]
[Illustration: Fort Street, from the Chaparral on Fort Hill]
The Round House gardens having been reached, the literary and musical
program began. The band played _Hail Columbia!_ and General Phineas
Banning, the presiding officer, introduced the Rev. T. T. Packard who
delivered the opening prayer. Banning then made a short patriotic
address; _America_ was sung by several church choirs of the city;
Professor Thomas A. Saxon read the _Declaration of Independence_; the
choirs sang the _Red, White and Blue_; and J. J. Ayers, as poet of the
occasion, read an original poem. _Yankee Doodle_ came after that; and
then James G. Eastman, as orator of the day, delivered the address,
reviewing the civilization and wonders of every age, and tickling the
hearers' vanity with perorations such as this:
When the mournful zephyrs, passing the plain where Marathon
once stood, shall find no mound to kiss; when the arch of
Titus shall have been obliterated; the Colosseum crumbled
into antique dust; the greatness of Athens degenerated into
dim tradition; Alexander, Cæsar and Napoleon forgotten; the
memories of Independence Hall shall still bloom in
imperishable freshness!
At the conclusion of the oration, Jacob A. Moerenhout, the venerable
French representative, spoke very appropriately of the relation of
France to America in our great Revolutionary struggle; after which the
Rev. A. W. Edelman concluded the exercises by pronouncing the
benediction. The celebration had a soul in it and no doubt compensated
in patriotic sincerity for what it may have lacked in classical
elegance.
Incidental to this commemoration, the Literary Committee having in
charge the exercises had named Don J. J. Warner, Judge Benjamin Hayes
and Dr. J. P. Widney a sub-committee to compile the most interesting
data about the old town from the Spanish occupancy by the founding of
the Mission at San Gabriel; and on the Fourth of July, or within less
than two months after their appointment, the historians produced their
report--to which I have already referred--a document, known as _An
Historical Sketch of Los Angeles County, California_, which, in spite
of the errors due to the short period allotted the editors, is still
interesting and valuable; portraying, as it does, various
characteristics of early life in the Southland and preserving to
posterity many names and minor facts.
In the summer of 1875, fifteen hundred men began to dig their way into
the San Fernando Mountains; and about the end of the first week in
September, 1876, the long tunnel was completed--a bore six thousand
nine hundred and forty feet in length, beginning twenty-seven miles
from Los Angeles. During the course of construction, vast quantities
of candles, generally the best, were employed to furnish light for the
workmen, H. Newmark & Company supplying most of the illuminants.
Some of the facts concerning the planning, building and attendant
celebration of this now famous tunnel should be peculiarly interesting
to the Angeleño of to-day, as also to his descendants, for not only do
they possess intrinsic historical importance, but they exemplify as
well both the comparative insignificance of Los Angeles at the time
when this great engineering feat was so successfully undertaken and
the occasional futility of human prophecies, even when such prophecies
are voiced by those most fitted at the time to deliver them.
I have already mentioned the interview which Governor Downey and I had
with Collis P. Huntington, in San Francisco, when we presented the
arguments of Los Angeles for the extension of the Southern Pacific
Railroad to this point. The greatest difficulty, from an engineering
standpoint, was the boring and finishing of the San Fernando tunnel,
and the then small town of Los Angeles was compelled to pass through
much discouragement before she became the Southern terminus of the
road, a selection of the most vital importance to her future
prosperity and growth. In the first place, a Mr. Rice, whose office
was in Temple Block, represented the Railroad Company in telling the
citizens of Los Angeles that if they did not appropriate toward the
undertaking two hundred and fifty thousand dollars--then an enormous
sum of money--Los Angeles would be left out of the line of travel and
the railroad would be built so as to pass several miles inland,
compelling our city to make a choice between putting in a branch to
connect with the main line or resigning any claim she might have to
become a railroad center. In fact, this is precisely what occurred in
the case of Visalia and a number of other towns; that is to say: they
are to-day the termini of railroad feeders, instead of a part of the
main line as they perhaps might have been.
When this threat or warning was delivered, an agitation immediately
set in, both to collect the money that the Company demanded and to
influence its management to include Los Angeles on the main line.
Judge R. M. Widney was one of the prominent figures in the local
campaign. The Chamber of Commerce, through its President, Solomon
Lazard, also buckled on its armor in behalf of Los Angeles and entered
the lists. Notably it sent a telegram to the United States Senate--the
railroad, as is well known, having received land-grants of inestimable
value from Congress and being considered, therefore, susceptible to
influence; and this telegram was penned with such classical eloquence
that it poured seventy-five dollars into the coffers of the telegraph
company. The net result of the campaign was the decision of the
Railroad Company to include Los Angeles among the favored stations.
The politics of the situation having thus been satisfactorily settled,
the engineering problems began to cast their shadows. General Stoneman
stated that the tunnel bore could not be effected, an opinion which
was by no means uncommon at that time. Others again said that people
would never be induced to travel through so long a tunnel; still
another set of pessimists stated that the winter rains would cause it
to cave in, to which Senator Stanford laconically replied that it was
"too damned dry in Southern California for any such catastrophe." This
railroad and the tunnel, however, were fortunately to become one of
those happy instances in which the proposals of man and the disposals
of the Lord are identical, for in course of time both found their
completion under the able direction of railroad genius, assisted in no
small way by the gangs of thousands of Orientals who did the hard
road-work.
As in the case with practically every Southern Californian enterprise,
the finishing of this great undertaking was accompanied by a rather
elaborate celebration. A delegation of San Francisco citizens, one of
whom was my brother, met at Newhall a delegation from Los Angeles
including S. Lazard[34] and myself, and I thus have the pleasant
recollection of having been among the very first who went through the
tunnel on that initial trip. Having arrived at Newhall, the citizens
of the Northern and Southern cities symbolized, by fraternal
handshaking, the completion of this new and strongest bond between
them. Amidst general rejoicing, and with thousands of Chinamen lined
up on either side of the track, each at full attention and all
presenting their--_shovels!_--General D. D. Colton drove the golden
spike which bound the rails from the North with the rails from the
South. After considerable speech-making and celebrating, most of the
company boarded the train for Los Angeles, where the jollification was
concluded with a banquet, a ball, illuminations and other festivities.
Possibly due to the great increase in Chinese brought to Southern
California through railroad work, repeated demonstrations against the
Mongolians were made here at meetings during the summer.
Shortly after the completion of the Southern Pacific Railroad the
people of Los Angeles became very much dissatisfied with the Company's
method of handling their business, and especially with the arbitrary
rulings of J. C. Stubbs in making freight rates. On one occasion, for
example, a shipper approached Stubbs and asked for a rate on a carload
of potatoes from San Francisco to Tucson. Stubbs asked him how much he
expected to pay for the potatoes and what he would get for them; and
having obtained this information, he allowed the shipper a small
profit and took the balance for freight. This dissatisfaction on the
part of an enterprising community accustomed to some liberality found
in time such an open expression that Charles F. Crocker, one of the
original promoters of the Central, and one of the owners of the
Southern Pacific, who had occasionally visited Los Angeles, came down
to confer with the City Council at a public meeting.
Crocker, as President of the Central Pacific Railroad Company, was a
very important man, and I felt at the time that he was most
discourteously received by those with whom he had come to discuss the
situation. The meeting, which I attended, was held in the small
Council Room, and I well remember the oppressive closeness. The place
was, indeed, packed; people were smoking and chewing tobacco; and the
reader may perhaps imagine the extreme condition of both the
atmosphere and the floor. This, however, was not all: when one of the
Councilmen--out of regard, I suppose, for the railroad President's
other engagements--asked that Mr. Crocker be permitted to address the
City Fathers, J. S. Thompson, a revolutionary Councilman, stood up and
declared that the San Francisco magnate would be heard when his time
came and--not before! How this lack of consideration impressed the
visitor may be seen from the conclusion of my story.
After a while, Crocker was allowed to speak; and in the course of his
remarks he stated that the Southern Pacific Railroad Company had
invested a great amount of money, and that it was necessary to realize
proper interest on their expenditure. Thereupon, Isaac W. Lord, one of
the spectators, after whom Lordsburg was named, arose and begged to
tell a little story. An ambitious individual, he said, who had once
built a hotel on the desert at a cost of one hundred and fifty
thousand dollars, was without a guest until, one day, a lone traveler
rode across the burning sands and put up for the night at the
hostelry. Next morning, the stranger was handed a bill for
seventy-five dollars; and upon inquiring why so much had been charged,
the proprietor explained that he had spent one hundred and fifty
thousand dollars in building the hotel; that the stranger was, thus
far, the first and only guest; and that, therefore, he must pay his
part of the interest on the investment.
The story, to Mr. Crocker's discomfiture, brought a loud laugh; and it
was then, before the laughter had died out, that the famous railroad
man, resuming the debate, made his memorable threat:
"If this be the spirit in which Los Angeles proposes to deal with the
railroad upon which the town's very vitality must depend, _I will
make grass to grow in the streets of your city_!"
And, considering the fate that has befallen more than one community
which coldly regarded the proposals of these same California
railroads, Crocker's warning was not without significance.
The Crocker incident having left matters in a worse state than before,
Colonel Eldridge E. Hewitt, agent for the Southern Pacific, brought
Governor Stanford to my office and introduced him. Stanford stated
that his road would soon be in operation and expressed the hope that
H. Newmark & Company would patronize it. I told Stanford that our
relations with the steamship company had always been very pleasant,
but that we would be very glad to give his line a share of our
business, if rates were made satisfactory. At the same time, the
Southern Pacific Railroad Company, having secured control of the Los
Angeles & San Pedro Railroad, issued circulars announcing that steamer
freight would henceforth be classified. As this was a violent
departure from established precedents, it foreshadowed trouble; and,
sure enough, rates moved upward from eight to as high as thirty
dollars a ton, according to classification.
H. Newmark & Company and Hellman, Haas & Company, who were the
heaviest shippers in Los Angeles, together with a number of other
merchants, decided to charter a steamer or sailing vessel. James
McFadden, of Santa Ana, owned the tramp steamboat _Newport_ which
plied between San Francisco and Newport Landing, in an irregular
lumber-trade; and this, after some negotiations, we engaged for three
years, on the basis of three dollars per ton. Having made this
contract, we entered valiantly into the contest; and, in order
suitably to impress the Southern Pacific Railroad Company with our
importance, we loaded the vessel, on her initial trip, to the
gunwales. Now cargo, on arriving at Wilmington at that time, used to
be loaded into cars, brought to Los Angeles and left in the freight
shed until we removed it at our convenience; but when the _Newport_
arrived, the vessel was unloaded and the merchandise put into the
warehouse at Wilmington, where it was held several days before it was
reshipped. On its arrival in Los Angeles, the Railroad Company gave
notice that removal must be effected within twenty-four hours, or
demurrage would be charged; and since, with the small facilities in
those days at our command, so prompt a withdrawal of an entire cargo
was a physical impossibility, our expenses were straightway heavily
increased.
Subsequent to this first shipment, we adopted a more conservative
policy, in spite of which our troubles were to multiply. The Southern
Pacific Railroad Company named a rate of three dollars a ton in less
than carload lots between San Francisco and way-stations, and this
induced many of our country customers to trade in that city. At the
same time, the Company carried many lines between San Francisco and
Los Angeles free of charge, potatoes and other heavy items being
favored. The mask was now discarded, and it became evident that we
were engaged in a life-and-death struggle.
Had there been a united front, the moral effect might have sustained
us in the unequal contest; but unfortunately, H. Newmark & Company
were abandoned by every shipper in Los Angeles except Hellman, Haas &
Company, and we soon found that fighting railroad companies recalled
the adage, "The game's not worth the candle." At the end of ten months
of sacrifices, we invoked the assistance of my former partner and
friend, Phineas Banning, who was then associated with the Southern
Pacific; and he visited the officials in San Francisco in our behalf.
Stanford told him that the Railroad Company, rather than make a single
concession, would lose a million dollars in the conflict; but Banning
finally induced the Company to buy the _Newport_, which brought to a
close the first fight in Los Angeles against a railroad.
In the winter of 1876-77, a drought almost destroyed the sheep
industry in Southern California. As a last resort, the ranchers,
seeing the exhausted condition of their ranges, started to drive their
sheep to Arizona, New Mexico or Utah; but most of them fell by the
way.
Again, we had the coincidence of drought and a fatal epidemic of
smallpox, not only leaving death in its wake, but incidentally
damaging business a good deal. Mrs. Juan Lanfranco was one of those
who died; Mr. and Mrs. Solomon Lazard lost a son, and a grocer by the
name of Henry Niedecken, who had a little frame store where the
Angelus Hotel now stands, as well as many others, succumbed.
FOOTNOTE:
[34] Died, January 13, 1915, in the ninetieth year of his age.