Some Reminiscences of old Victoria

by Edgar Fawcett

The abomination of Los Angeles is its automobiles and motor cycles, which I blessed many times a day. They say there are hundreds—I should say thousands—of them and they are always in evidence, day and night, and what with the number of cars, it was impossible to cross the streets at times, and it was surprising the narrow escapes I had. My attention was drawn to the height of the sidewalks, they often being twelve and fifteen inches above the road. It was soon explained, for a few days later, on going to the theatre, it rained, and three hours later, going home, the streets were running rivers of water, and we had to walk up and down to find a narrow place to get over to the sidewalk. The streets having high crowns, the water, of course, runs to the gutters, and often boards have to be laid from the sidewalk across the gutters to get over these torrents. The next morning, the rain storm being over, the streets were clear of water. It is the custom here to wash the streets down at night, so that they are always clean. They are made of asphalt, and in Pasadena of a composition of asphalt and fine stone or gravel, and are also treated with crude oil. As part of our time was spent in Pasadena, I have something to say of that most beautiful of all southern cities. It is about a half hour’s run from Los Angeles, and you pass scores of pretty bungalows on the way, as well as stretches of country covered with very low green hills with cattle feeding. Pasadena is termed the "home of millionaires." Well, if handsome houses, grounds, trees and flowers make a millionaire’s home, it is rightly named. Fine roads run in every direction past these lovely plains, and you are overpowered at times with the smell of orange blossoms as you pass through miles of orange orchards or groves.

Among the beautiful homes is that of Judge Spinks, surrounded by beautiful trees of all kinds, as well as an orange garden, where after a long auto ride we received the hospitality of Mrs. Spinks and Mrs. and Miss Clapham, and carried off a supply of oranges enough for a week. The many friends of Judge and Mrs. Spinks will be glad to know that his health has greatly improved since residing there.

Passing the orange trees one day in the cars I noticed in the distance that the ground instead of being black or green was golden for quite a distance ahead and on drawing near found it to be caused by oranges, which completely covered up the surface of the soil, and was in fact the product of that grove picked and lying on the ground.

What might be considered the finest place in Pasadena is the Busch estate; the grounds are a wonder in artistic taste and extent, and are to be added to, a large piece of ground having been recently bought by Mr. Busch for that purpose. The grounds are open to the public at all times, and his residence also at stated times. He is the head of the Anheuser-Busch beer concern. I might state what is a well-known fact, that they don’t believe in fences down there. I have not seen one yet. All these lovely places are open to the road. You walk off the sidewalk to the house everywhere. Flowers grow even in the street, alongside the walk, and are cultivated by those whose property faces them. Speaking of trees, I must mention that they have the greatest variety of shade trees to be seen anywhere. The tall eucalyptus, imported from Australia, is seen by thousands, and the beautiful pepper tree of Chili or Peru. This tree was my favorite, looking something between a weeping willow and an acacia, but growing much taller, with its red berries in bunches showing clearly on the green. Then the palms with their spreading branches or stems! Of these latter, we saw a pair that the gentleman informed me he had brought home in a coal oil tin sixteen years ago, and to-day the trunks were twenty inches thick and the trees spread over a surface of twenty-five feet, leaving a passage between to walk up to the front of the house. There are avenues of these beautiful trees in the various parks in Los Angeles, Pasadena and Riverside. Further, in the matter of trees I would draw a comparison between the authorities of these southern towns and our own municipal authorities. When making new roads or drives, they find a fine tree growing on the road; instead of cutting it down as our vandals do, they leave it there and protect it, and I saw a notable example of this, when three men were treating or doctoring a veteran growing on the road which showed signs of dying, and they were doing all that could be done to save its life and keep it there. As we wandered about admiring all this beauty in nature we came to an extra pretty place, and the impulse took hold of me to have a nearer view; to if possible get permission to pick an orange and some blossoms to send home; so I stopped in my walk and made for where I saw two ladies sitting in the sunshine in front of the cottage. My wife restrained me and I hesitated, but on casting my eyes towards the ladies I perceived one of them smile, so I proceeded on, and raising my hat, apologized for our interview, saying that we were from the north and were captivated by the beauty of the place. "Oh, not at all, you are perfectly welcome. Would you like to look around?" We gladly accepted, and were shown around the premises, and at my request to pick an orange myself to send home, I was given permission, and told I might pick a lemon also, and would I like a bunch of orange blossoms?

We finally had two card boxes given us, and packed the fruit in one and the orange blossoms in the other. We were then invited in to rest and found the ladies were representative of those we met afterwards—the most kindly and courteous—and here I must say that I never met more obliging people than these same good people of California. I never met with a rebuff from anyone, and I am sure I bothered them enough during our stay with enquiries of every kind and another.

The police are instructed to supply everyone with necessary information and are provided with books containing such information as people may require. There are many excursions out of Los Angeles in various directions, of which we availed ourselves. One of these took us to Causton’s ostrich farm, San Gabriel Mission, and Long Beach. The ostrich farm is well worth a visit, to see these monster birds running about with wings outstretched. We were informed that at the age of six months they were full grown, and considering their size and weight it is a wonder. They eat as much as a cow, and, to show how high they can reach, the keeper stood on something and raised his hand up to eight feet and the ostrich easily took an orange from his hand and swallowed it whole. We were warned not to come too close to them, for the ostrich is attracted by bright hatpins in the ladies’ hats or by jewelry, or by anything bright—all are swallowed whole. One was sitting on a batch of eggs, which had just been vacated by the male, who does the most of the sitting. The visit to the San Gabriel Mission was of great interest to me, for it was of ancient origin, having been one of those founded by Padre Junipero Serra in 1771. The church we visited, and were conducted through by a lay priest who, in a monotonous tone of voice, recited all he knew of the mission. As before stated, the mission was about one hundred and forty years old, and one cannot but admire the zeal and devotion of the men who endured the hardships of the life they must have led so long ago. The church windows were very high from the ground, as the natives were not to be trusted, and the fathers might be surprised at any moment during the service and shot at. They had often to take refuge there from further attacks in early times. We were told that the building, which was built, as all were at that time, of sun-dried bricks and mud, was renewed since only in roof and seats. The original doors were preserved and shown us in a room. They were made very substantially, with iron bolts and bands and big locks, but now crumbling with age. The pictures of saints on the walls were painted in oil, and very poor specimens of art, I should say. They were old, and were sent from Spain. Although twenty-five cents was asked for admission we were asked to contribute to a fund for the restoration of the building, and many small coins were given by our party, and, when it is remembered that these excursions are daily, the year around, it must be an expensive job keeping the old building in repair. It looked as if twenty dollars would have covered the cost of any repairs made in a year, and it looked to me a case of graft on someone’s part. There is another church, founded at the same time, in Los Angeles, and I produce all I could decipher of an ancient inscription I copied from the front: "Los ---- de Esta Parroquia A La Reina de Los Angelus" (built 1814). These missions are planted at stated distances from San Diego to San Francisco, and all by that pioneer of Roman Catholicism, Junipera Serra. There is a statue to him in Golden Gate Park in San Francisco in the attitude of exhortation, leaning forward with arms extended upward. I visited three of the missions, and they are all about the same. There is great food for contemplation in visiting these relics of the past. To think of the conditions as existing then and now.

We were photographed in front of the mission, after which we left for Long Beach and spent the balance of the afternoon. The beach was covered with bathers—men, women and children—and although the surf rolled high on the sands the bathers ran in and met the rollers, which completely buried them. They then emerged laughing, and waited for the next wave. There was quite a small town on the sands where there were shows of all kinds and booths for getting money by many ways in profusion.

At the handsome and commodious Hotel Virginia we visited Mr. Roper of "Cherry Creek" who has been down here all the winter, and we found him getting better, but slowly.

Although there are many Victorians go south to spend the winter each year, the great majority are for many reasons unable to do so, and I thought it might be of some interest to these latter to give them "items by the way" in going and coming on this most enjoyable sojourn to the land of fruit, flowers and beautiful homes.

At all these winter resorts for people from the East and North are flowers, trees and fruit, with handsome hotels, fruits, beautiful shade trees, and last but not least, beautiful homes. There are public parks in all of them where in January people may sit out of doors among their flowers, with the mocking-birds singing on all sides. Residences are nearly all in the bungalow style, with projecting roofs. The more imposing residences may be of Spanish architecture with red tiled roofs which look very handsome.