LOS ANGELES AT THE BEGINNING OF THE 1890S
{While there is no description of the city as it existed at the end of
1889, the tenth anniversary edition of the Times, which carried the depiction
of the city as it existed in 1881, paired that article with one describing Los
Angeles in 1891. The hilltop viewpoints from which the fictional visitor observed
the city still exist: up Beaudry to Figueroa Terrace and to the upper part of
White Knoll Drive, and up Thomas to the open area beyond Two Tree Avenue, above
and west of Lincoln High School.}
{Times, Dec. 4, 1891, p. 2}
AS IT IS.
- - -
The Los Angeles of Today, with a Population of More Than 55,000.
Would you obtain a comprehensive impression of Los Angeles, as it is
today, within a short space of time? You can do this in a single day if you
are a good walker and will start out before the sun is very high, or you can
drive to all the points mentioned in a buggy. In making the trip you will get
a better general idea of Los Angeles and see more of it in a day than many old
residents have seen in ten years, for Los Angeles is an extensive pueblo, the
city limits embracing an area of thirty-six square miles.
Take the Temple-street car to Beaudry avenue and walk up the latter
street, around the Sisters' Hospital to the white-fenced reservoir which you
see on the hill. There is no fear of your mistaking your road, for that
reservoir is a landmark which is visible from almost any point for ten miles
around. It is something of a climb, but you will be rewarded when you get to
the top. What a magnificent panorama is spread before you! The city and
country for miles around are spread out like a relief map at your feet. A long
ridge, thickly covered with residences, extends from Buena Vista to Pearl
street, hiding a great portion of the business center, but through a break in
the hill you see the most thickly-settled residence portion, extending away to
the south and southwest, until it is lost in the groves and fields in the
distance. To the left, on the very summit of the ridge, the High school, a
large, dark red brick building of stately architecture, stands out prominently.
A little to the right of this is the new Courthouse, the highest building in
the city, which towers like a giant among the surrounding edifices. Still
further to the right the tower of the City Hall may be seen, rising above the
trees. The groves of gum trees and stretches of orchards away to the southwest
are in Vernon, the beautiful horticultural suburb of Los Angeles. To the
left--or east--of the High school the river is plainly seen, winding between
its leveed banks, under numerous bridges, through the city and in a tortuous
course toward the ocean. On the east and west bank frequent trains of the
Santa Fe and Terminal railroads puff along, the sound of their whistles
reaching the ear through the clear atmosphere several seconds after the
escaping steam at the throttle has disappeared. The numerous large brick
blocks on this side of the river are in "Sonora Town," the old Spanish quarter
north of the plaza.
Beyond the river, on a high mesa which terminates in a bluff, at the foot
of which the river formerly ran, is Boyle Heights, the airy and healthy eastern
residence section of Los Angeles. Ten years ago you would have seen a couple
of farm houses there on the treeless plain. Today it is dotted over with
hundreds of beautiful residences and punctuated with graceful shade trees,
while a double-track cable railroad traverses it from the river to the eastern
limits of the city. The large brick building on the crest of the bluff, which
is almost as prominent a landmark as the High school and the Courthouse, is the
Catholic orphan asylum. The rays of the setting sun cause the gilt cross on
its summit to shine out like the evening star. Beyond Boyle Heights, about ten
miles to the eastward, is the low range of San Jose hills. On their eastern
slope Whittier is plainly seen. The large white building, high up on the
hillside, is the Whittier High school. The massive building lower down to the
right is the Reform school. Still farther away, a hundred miles distant in an
air line, the dark, gray mass of San Jacinto mountain looms up. Coming back
home and looking to the extreme left a portion of east Los Angeles is seen,
embowered in verdure.
Now turn your gaze to the south. The Sisters' Hospital, a quaint,
peaceful-looking brick building set in beautiful grounds, lies at your feet.
Five years ago this was "out in the country." Today it is surrounded by
residences and graded streets. Ten years ago not half a dozen of the hundreds
of tasteful residences which you see at your feet had been built. In the
distance to the south, is the range of hills which hides San Pedro and the
harbor. Further west, in the plain, is Inglewood, with its avenues of green
trees. By their smoke you may watch the course of trains on their way from
Redondo and San Pedro to the city. Still further west is the low range of
Ballona hills. Just to the right of where they terminate you may on a clear
day plainly see the ocean glittering in the sun through a break in the high
sand banks which align the beach.
The elevated group of large residences near in, to your right, is Angeleno
Heights, the highest residence section of the city. Behind, to the west,
extends the country between Los Angeles and Santa Monica. The Arcadia hotel
and the gum trees on ocean avenue at the latter place may be easily
distinguished on a clear day and clear days are the rule in Los Angeles. To
the right of Santa Monica, in the foothills, is the group of buildings
composing the Solders' Home. The Cahuenga range of mountains frames the
picture to the northwest. Along the slopes of its foothills are dotted here
and there a few houses, the precursors of thousands that will be built in this
beautiful semi-tropic valley as soon as better means of communication are
furnished and the large ranches divided up.
Now go around to the northern side of the reservoir and another beautiful,
though very different, scene meets your gaze. The hill upon which you stand
slopes abruptly down several hundred feet, its sides covered with a dense
growth of white sage, thyme and laurel, to a peaceful valley, where an old
ranch house is set in the midst of an orchard and vegetable garden. A couple
of brick kilns are the only other evidences of human activity. Further down
the valley the Jewish cemetery, its white tombs gleaming out from the shadows
of a sombre olive grove, accentuate the rural character of the scene. Not half
a dozen houses are visible, look whichever way you may. If planted down here
suddenly, you would never dream that you were within the limits of a city of
over 50,000 population and not over thirty minutes' walk from the business
center. Yet this is so; the northern line of the city being two miles from
where you stand. It is not necessary to inform you, after this, that the city
has been growing in a southerly direction. On the other side of the valley are
a succession of wild, rolling hills, one above another, and still further,
closing the background, the dark, rocky Sierra Madre range of mountains, its
crest fringed with pine trees, which at this distance look like blades of
grass. An opening between the hills allows a few white specks, nestling at
their base, to be distinguished. These are cottages in the Crescenta Canada.
After looking your full upon this fair scene, follow the path along the
crest of the hill, a distance of about half a mile to the east. You have
constantly in view on the right the populous city and on the left the peaceful
valley, with its background of mountains. Passing the cozy residence of Mr.
Hayes, the artist--the highest within the city limits--a walk of twenty minutes
brings you to the Downey avenue branch of the cable railroad at the south end
of the viaduct. Boarding a northbound car you are quickly whisked over the
long viaduct, a remarkable structure, built on single iron pillars, said to be
the only one of its kind in the country. Its purpose is to keep the cable road
away from the numerous Southern Pacific tracks and switches which pass below.
Beyond the viaduct on the left is the long freight depot of the Southern
Pacific Company, loaded with merchandise of every description. Over one of the
archways of the building is inscribed "Santa Monica," a relic of the days when
steamers called regularly at that point, as they probably soon will again.
Beyond the freight sheds is the passenger depot. It is now almost deserted,
but was a bustling place until three years ago, when the passenger offices were
removed to the new Arcade depot, nearly two miles south. The neighborhood of
the old depot has felt the effect of the change, and has a rather woe-begone
appearance. All trains on the Southern Pacific, except those to and from the
East, still stop at San Fernando street.
A ride of a few minutes more and the Los Angeles River is crossed, over an
elevated bridge. During the summer season it is a narrow stream, which a good
vaulter could leap over, and the unsophisticated stranger looks with wonder at
the big levees on each side of the wide, dry bed. Let him visit it, however,
in winter, after there has been a heavy rainfall in the mountains and he will
see a deep, swiftly-moving torrent, filling the river-bed from bank to bank,
and frequently carrying down a mass of driftwood and big timber. When the Los
Angeles River, innocent looking as it is, has gone on a rampage, there have
been anxious times for the residents along its banks, to whom the completion of
the levees came as a welcome relief.
The visitor is now in East Los Angeles, one of the prettiest residence
sections of the city. As the car moves up Downey avenue, a broad thoroughfare
lined with graceful pepper trees, the tasteful residences on either side, set
back on lovely gardens and half smothered in climbing vines, cannot fail to
arouse admiration. Just before reaching the end of the track alight and take a
road on your left--Thomas street--which mounts gradually up a ridge of high
hill, on the summit of which stand a few isolated gum trees. There is a good
path and a climb of fifteen minutes or so brings you to the summit, where you
may enjoy the finest view to be had in or near the city. You are here much
higher than at your previous point of observation. The city, as seen from
here, makes a different picture. It is more at a distance and you see much of
it that was hidden from your former "coigne of vantage." Stretching away from
the foot of the hill upon which you stand, East Los Angeles looks like a vast
forest or park, so thickly is it embowered in shade trees. To your left you
get a fine view of Boyle Heights. On the north and east the scenery is
striking in the extreme. Cutting its narrow passage through the high hills
from the north, flows the Los Angeles River. You can trace the valley as it
opens out toward Burbank, above the mouth of the Arroyo Seco, adown which
ravine comes the mountain stream of that name from Pasadena, a portion of which
city is visible. In the background are a succession of mountains, ending in
the Sierra Madre, which from this point appear quite near. There rises in the
mind of the beholder the thought: What a magnificent site for a big hotel! A
branch cable track could easily be run up this hill from Downey avenue. A
resort here would soon become world famous. Right here it should be remarked
that there are few cities in the world that offer so many picturesque building
sites and grand views as does Los Angeles. A month may be spent in
explorations and still fresh beauties found.
If you had time, by going a little beyond the cable road terminus you
would come to a pretty little lake, set in a framework of hills, but this would
extend the trip beyond the limits of a day. Therefore, return to the point at
which you left the car and ride back to town. You will now take a ride of six
miles in one direction, without leaving the city limits. After recrossing the
viaduct you pass through "Sonora Town," an interesting section, once the Los
Angeles, now mostly composed of dilapidated adobe houses, interspersed on the
main thoroughfare, with large brick warehouses. Toward the plaza the Chinese
divide the retail business with the paisanos. This is old Los Angeles, the Los
Angeles of '81 and '51, and is rapidly passing away. It would have disappeared
much more quickly were it not for the fact that the city is growing in the
other direction. The cars jolt you as it makes a sharp turn, and you are at
the plaza. This is the geographical center of the city and ten years ago was
an important center of business before Spring street was thought of. In the
center of the open space is a little circular park with large rubber trees that
have a stately appearance. On the right is the long, low, plastered red
Catholic Church, erected, as an inscription tells, by los filieles {fieles? - ed.}
de esta Parroquia to the Queen of the Angels, in 1861. On the south of the plaza
is Chinatown, a section of the celestial kingdom set down in California. The
strangeness of the sights here is only exceeded by the strength of the smells
which emanate from the Celestial region below and rise to the heavens above.
At the southeast corner of the plaza is the Pico House, ten years ago the
leading hotel of the city. Perchance you may see, as the writer did the other
day, Don Pio Pico himself, the venerable nonagenarian ex-Governor, seated in
front of the building, both alike relics of former, and to them, flourishing
days. A little further south, on Main street, is the Baker Block, for many
years the chief business building in Los Angeles and still standing forth as an
imposing edifice of pleasing architecture.
At the Temple Block the car passes into Spring street, now the leading
retail business street of the city, in 1881 little thought of in that
connection. In that year the Temple Block marked the southern limit of retail
business; now it is near the north line. Here all is bustle, and fine business
blocks multiply. The Phillips Block on your right, a little north off First,
is especially noticeable. On a Saturday afternoon and evening Spring street,
from Temple Block to Third, presents a lively and attractive scene, with its
brilliantly lighted stores and dense crowd of purchasers and promenaders on the
sidewalks. At the corner of Spring and First streets the car turns into the
latter thoroughfare, where the Boyle Heights line branches off. This is at
present regarded as the business center of the city, and a busy place it is,
cable cars coming and going every few minutes, besides a multitude of other
vehicles, while the sidewalks are thronged with hurrying pedestrians. At the
southwest corner is the Nadeau Hotel, a large building, the leading commercial
hotel of the city. One block westward on First street and the car turns into
Broadway. At the northeast corner, unique in its architecture, is the
castellated granite abode of The Times. Broadway, formerly called Fort street
after an old fortification on the hill which you see to the north, now being
cut through, is the coming retail business street of Los Angeles, a handsome
thoroughfare, smoothly paved with asphaltum. First street comes to an abrupt
end one block farther west where a hill blocks the way to the western suburbs.
Many plans for cutting through and tunneling this hill have been discussed, but
a commencement of the very necessary work has yet to be made. On Broadway are
many handsome buildings. Two blocks north of First is the imposing Courthouse,
which you passed when you started out on your trip up Temple street this
morning. Proceeding southward at Second street you will perhaps see one of the
swiftly-gliding cars of the electric railroad pass. At the southwest corner of
Second and Broadway is a very handsome block, on a part of which the Y.M.C.A.
has its home. The architectural features of this building are striking. A
little further south is the new City Hall, an imposing structure, patterned
after a German town hall of the middle ages. A couple of blocks more brings
you to the postoffice, which has been moved twice during the past five years.
The present location is quite a distance from the business center and there was
much complaint on that account. The site is supposed to be only temporary
until a proper government building shall have been completed. Opposite the
postoffice is a market place and armory hall. At Sixth street you will catch a
glimpse of a little park, a block west on that street. It is the most
tastefully improved open space in the city and furnished with plenty of seats
for the wayfarer. Opposite is Hazard's Pavilion, where our horticultural and
other fairs are held. The large brick building in the rear, at the head of
Fifth street, is the Normal school.
At Seventh street the car runs west for three blocks and again turns south
on Grand avenue opposite one of the three engine houses of the cable company.
Here the Seventh street line branches off to Westlake Park. Grand avenue,
formerly known as Charity street, is one of the most fashionable residence
streets in the city, having many imposing houses, but the visitor from an
Eastern city will probably admire this street less than some others where more
time and expense have been lavished on the grounds and a little less on the
buildings. In a city which contains over 23,000 acres there is little excuse
for putting a $50,000 house on a fifty-foot lot. The large building at the
corner of Washington street is St. Vincent's College, which was removed here
three years ago when the old site on Sixth street came into demand for business
purposes.
Get off at Adams street and walk a few blocks west. Adams street, for a
couple of blocks west of Figueroa, is undoubtedly the most beautiful street in
Los Angeles, and it is doubtful it if can be surpassed anywhere. The lots are
all large, as they should be in this city, running into acres instead of front
feet. Large drooping pepper trees hang over the cement sidewalks, on the outer
edge of which is planted turf. The residences--large buildings, each with an
architectural individuality of its own--are set well back from the street in
carefully-kept grounds, which are realized dreams of semi-tropical beauty.
Large date and fan palms, grevillas, magnolias, orange and other graceful trees
cast their shade upon park-like lawns of brilliant green; roses, jasmine and
heliotrope cover porches, trellises and carriage-houses; flaming geraniums and
snow-white calla lilies form big hedges, and morning-glories wantonly climb to
the very top of all evergreen trees, hanging from the branches in graceful
festoons, while lovely flowers of every hue grow in such lavish profusion as to
need, not encouragement, but constant repression at the hand of the gardener.
It must produce a curious impression upon the visitor from the snow-clad plains
of Minnesota and Dakota, as he views this scene on a winter day, while a
southern sun invites him to court the shade. Such a picture does more
missionary work for Southern California in five minutes than a ton of
pamphlets, filled with climatic statistics, can accomplish in as many years.
There are scores, if not hundreds, of houses in Los Angeles as beautiful as any
of these, but in other places a vacant lot with neglected trees, or a vulgar
building atrociously colored, will intervene to mar the picture. Here there is
no break in the vista of beauty , and the result is a scene which delights
while it rests the eye at the same time, showing what can be accomplished here
when taste and wealth go hand in hand.
Figueroa street, to which you now return, is the bon bon residence street
of the city. It and its northern extension, Pearl street, extend for nearly
five miles from north to south. On this street are to be found some of the
handsomest residences in Southern California, many of them standing in grounds
of rare beauty. The street is shortly to be paved for its whole length with
asphaltum, which will still further increase its attractiveness. You can take
a Figueroa-street horse car back to Ninth and Grand avenue, whence you can walk
to the engine house and board a Seventh street car for Westlake Park. Seventh
street is another favorite residence street and is destined to become an
important thoroughfare, as it extends from the western to the eastern city
limits. It is elevated, which, to many, gives it a preference over the
southwestern part of the city. Westlake Park, on the western city limits, is a
pretty, breezy spot. It will gain much in beauty after the trees shall have
attained a larger growth. The lake is well provided with boats, which are
liberally patronized, and a band plays once a week. A climb of a few minutes
up one of the surrounding hills will reward you with some expansive views of
the country between Los Angeles and the ocean.
Returning to the car, you may now take another little ride of about six
miles from west to east. After passing the business center, the car proceeds
down past First street three-quarters of a mile, crossing the river on a fine
elevated viaduct. Down below, on the right, is the Santa Fe depot, a temporary
structure. From Boyle Heights you get a good view of Los Angeles from the
east. This suburb has settled up rapidly since the cable railroad was opened.
On Boyle avenue, at the top of the bluff, near the river, are some beautiful
homes, which it would be worth your while to walk by if you had the time. High
elevation and gravelly soil make Boyle Heights a specially desirable residence
section from a hygienic point of view. The engine house is soon passed and the
car comes to a stop at Evergreen Cemetery.
Returning by the same car, get off at Los Angeles street, the first street
east of Main, and take the electric car for Vernon, a distance of about three
miles to the south, passing, on your way, the Arcade depot of the Southern
Pacific. Vernon is a beautiful suburb, whose orchards and vineyards were
fortunately not cut up into town lots during the boom. Much of the fruit
consumed in Los Angeles comes from this section. There are no grand houses,
but cosy cottage homes, half buried under great shade trees and surrounded by
heavily bearing orchards of oranges, peaches, apricots, pears and other fruits,
which, with berry patches and alfalfa fields, make the happy owner of five
acres here much more independent than some owners of a fifty foot lot on
Figueroa street or Grand avenue, who lie awake o'nights wondering where they
shall raise the money to pay off their mortgages. Striking instances of what
may be accomplished on a few acres in Southern California may be found in
Vernon. Near Jefferson street, on Central avenue, the car passes a pretty
little park, which is approached between a row of immense pepper trees, over 20
years old--quite a respectable age for shade trees in Los Angeles, although
they would be considered babies in New England. Beautiful flowers are grown in
this park by a nursery company. There are swings, tables and benches under the
trees. It is a pleasant place for families to bring their children to and
spend an afternoon.
Returning to the city, you have now finished your car rides, as laid out
for you, and being probably by this time rather tired, we shall only ask you to
lunch and then walk down Main as far as Fifth, passing the Catholic Cathedral,
the Westminster Hotel and the Federal building in course of construction--a
building which requires enlargement beyond the original plans. A larger
appropriation is expected, and a Government building befitting a city of the
size and prospects of Los Angeles. Turn up Fifth street into Spring and walk
back along that street to First, noticing the massive Bryson-Bonebrake Block at
the corner of Second street.
You have now obtained as good a general view of Los Angeles as it is
possible to get within a day, missing no important features, at a total cost of
50 cents for car fares. The impression made upon you can scarcely fail to be a
favorable one, but it will lack the element of wonder which overcomes those who
return to Los Angeles after an absence of ten or even five years. If your time
permits you may, as aforesaid, travel around within the city for a month and
see something new every day. The discovery of dainty homes that are beauty
spots and new and strange vegetation will reward such fresh exploration. Much
of Los Angeles is almost a terra incognita to many of our residents, in spite
of the fact that rapid and frequent transit has to a great extent annihilated
distance.
After looking over the city, the visitor who contemplates settling or
investing will doubtless make investigations more in detail of the condition of
affairs here. He will find that the population of Los Angeles is at least
55,000. The census of last year gave it a trifle over 50,000, and that did not
include Vernon, University and other suburbs which are really part of the city.
The assessed value of all the city property is $45,953,704, there are 8744
public school children enrolled, the banks of the city and county held
$12,000,000 in deposits, there are over fifty miles of cable railroad track and
an electric system nearly as large, partly constructed, over 200 electric
lights illuminate the city at night, eleven railroads center here, two of which
are transcontinental lines; there are over 1000 manufacturing establishments of
all descriptions and over 100 carloads of produce are frequently shipped away
in one day by one of the overland lines. These and other facts, which are
given more in detail in the following pages, including a description of the
productive enterprises of the county, should convince the intelligent
investigator that the claims made in the introduction to this issue and the
predictions there offered are more than justified by the facts. There is no
need for exaggeration here. The Times adheres to the sentiment which has
actuated this journal in all its previous special issues of this character:
"The truth about Lou Angeles is good enough."