by Paul R. Spitzzeri
The town of Sierra Madre, nestled at the base of the San Gabriel Mountains between Pasadena and Monrovia, was established by Nathaniel C. Carter, a sewing machine manufacturer from Lowell, Massachusetts, who, for health reasons, as was the case with so many others, came to the San Gabriel Valley in 1874 and purchased land in what is now San Marino from Civil War General and future California Governor George Stoneman and established his “Willow Dale” estate. Seven years later, he acquired more property to the north, including the new family home of “Carterhia” and then laid out the town of Sierra Madre.
With its location in the foothills of the mountain range, there was plenty of water for those using the land commercially, but also with landscape gardening for their homes and perhaps Sierra Madre’s best-known attraction is a stellar example of this: the massive wisteria vine that has grown for 130 years and is considered the largest blossoming plant on the planet, having been given this distinction by the Guinness Book of World Records.
The highlighted object from the Museum’s collection for this post is an 8 April 1928 snapshot photograph of a pair of women posed in front of a pergola on which part of the plant was growing. As to the name, it was bestowed on the plant by renowned botanist Thomas Nuttall, one of whose students, William Gambel, was on the Rowland and Workman Expedition of 1841 when it traveled from New Mexico to this area.
The namesake of the plant, one strain of which is from the eastern United States, is Caspar Wistar, an anatomist and physician in Philadelphia who knew Nuttall well, though despite the last name, the rendering was wisteria, which remains the official genus name. The humble origins of the Sierra Madre vine was that it was purchased in a one-gallon container, purportedly for 75 cents, by Alice Prosser Brugman, for her newly established residence at the upper northwestern section of the community.
Brugman (1857-1937) was from Pennsylvania and, in early 1886, married William F. Brugman, a chemist with the Scranton Steel Company. The couple resided in Wilkes-Barre until, like Carter, William had to find a warmer, drier climate for his tuberculosis (which was almost certainly worsened by his profession and work environment.) The Brugmans, who had two daughters, settled in Los Angeles in 1891, residing at the northeast corner of Figueroa and 11th streets, across the street from Crypto.com Arena and the LA Live complex, though they also briefly owned land at Toluca Lake in the lower San Fernando Valley. Soon after arrival, William pursued mining possibilities at San Dimas Canyon.
Their Sierra Madre property was given the name of Piedmont Heights and it did possess a commanding view of the area. The Brugmans leased out the property while they spent a year in México, perhaps because of his ongoing mining interests. William died in March 1899 and his widow and children continued to reside in the house, though Alice listed the place for sale right away. Five years later, they built and moved into a new bungalow nearby, while renting out the Piedmont Heights house. In 1906, this latter and its wisteria vine were acquired by J. W. Somerville, who held it for a half-dozen years until it was sold to Henry T. Fennel and his wife Estelle Haines.
Haines (1869-1960) was born in Placer County, California, in the Gold Rush county of the Sierra Nevada Mountains, northeast of Sacramento, but when she was two years old her family moved to Los Angeles where her father was superintendent of a telegraph operating facility. After she graduated from Los Angeles High School in 1888, she was among just a few young women selected from many applicants to be a probationary attendant of the Los Angeles Public Library, established sixteen years earlier with Thomas W. Temple as a founding trustee.
Over the next seven years, Haines moved from a basic role at the library to becoming head of the research section which was located separate from the rest of the facility. She remained in that position, but also took on the job of bookkeeping, until spring 1895. A brouhaha erupted with a new set of trustee leadership and head librarian Tessa Kelso was ousted, with Adelaide Hasse (who went to work at the New York Public Library and further controversy) also being terminated and Haines, apparently in solidarity, submitting her resignation.
Later that year, she married Henry T. Fennel (1861-1925), who was born in San Francisco and worked in a tannery as a buckskin dresser before becoming an insurance agent. It appears that it was on one of his many business trips to the rapidly growing Los Angeles that he met Estelle Haines. During the courtship the couple and her mother went on an excursion to a camp on Mt. Wilson, which is north of where the couple ended up living in Sierra Madre.
After their marriage in fall 1895, however, the Fennels lived in San Francisco and remained there until they moved across the Bay to Fremont, north of San Jose and where they operated a fruit orchard. In 1912, the acquired the property on which the wisteria vine, nearing its twentieth year, was becoming better known for its impressive size and number of blooms. In April 1913, when Sierra Madre held its annual flower show, Estelle joined the executive committee responsible for planning, though nothing was said about the vine in press coverage.
That would soon change quickly and dramatically and one key reason was the accelerating growth of the automobile in greater Los Angeles, which rapidly became the car capital of the world. With its natural beauty, the San Gabriel Valley was a prime place for tourism as early as the 1880s, when a transcontinental railroad link to the region was a major reason for the great Boom of the Eighties.
By the mid-Teens, auto ownership, as well as the use of omnibuses and larger vehicles to convey tourists, in competition with the extensive Pacific Electric Railway streetcar system, made access to places the Sierra Madre wisteria vine far easier. The 22 July 1914 issue of the Monrovia News included a report that thanks in part to Henry Fennel and his work with the town’s Board of Trade, “guide posts will be provided along highways approaching and reaching various parts of Sierra Madre.”
With the road manager of the powerful and influential Automobile Club of Southern California, which took on the task of signage before there was a state transportation department, Fennel and a Board committee member went through town and “laid out a sight seeing route which will guide visitors to all points of interest.” Moreover, “arrangements were made for the printing of a map sheet for the auto club’s loose leaf map system” and this was to be distributed to the club’s 7,000 members. When this was announced to a Board meeting, the report was “greeted with applause and a vote of thanks.”
The Los Angeles Times of 24 March 1915 included mention of “a unique entertainment for the benefit of charity” at what the Fennels dubbed “Scenic Point,” including the wisteria vine, and which was sponsored by the Dickens Fellowship Society, of which Estelle, hardly surprisingly, was a key member. The article added that “many visitors take the automobile road . . . to get a peep at this plant” and, regarding the event, commented,
It is in celebration of a wistaria vine which was planted more than twenty years ago, and which is now in full bloom. This vine, which covers an arbor on the Fennel residence, is more than 200 feet long . . . Many auto parties have arranged to make the trip to “Scenic Point” which is one of the show places on the automobile maps.
Among the activities was the serving of tea, toasted muffins and marmalade in what was termed a “Boffin’s Bower” under the vine, with Society members dressed as characters from Dickens classics. This entertainment set the stage for what became an annual wistaria festival at the site. While there was a sixth Sierra Madre flower festival in spring 1916, there was no mention of the Fennels’ vine, but that changed the following year.
Through the first three weeks of April, reported the Times of 22 April 1917, “4000 visitors, mostly from outside California, have visited the famous wistaria vine on the H.T. Fennel place, Scenic Point.” By press time, it was added, the blooming period was over and the “violet shade has given place to emerald green,” though, despite this change, “the pilgrimage of visitors has not ceased, showing the interest that has been awakened.”
A notable example of this was that a woman residing in the prestigious Oak Knoll section of Pasadena, west of the estate of transportation tycoon and art, books and manuscripts collector, Henry Huntington, sent visitors in her vehicle twenty-five times to view the monster vine. The paper noted that “among the many Mr. and Mrs. Fennel spoke with were two score of world travelers, who have seen the finest of wistaria anywhere extant, including Japan, where the natives make a specialty of it” along with other places “and all declared that no individual vine anywhere equalled [sic] the one in Sierra Madre in extent and beauty.”
The piece also described how the vine, which was planted near the center of the front of the Brugman-built dwelling, “completely encircles the house and the new growth on the north side has been carried into trees beyond” to a length of 250 feet. It was added, moreover, that “beginning three years ago an annual reception has been held in its honor on the Saturday and Sunday nearest to the prime of the blossom period” and the Fennels planned to continue doing so. Beyond this, an observation deck at Scenic Point was “regarded as one of the choicest viewpoints in Southern California” and the Auto Club signs were credited with boosting interest.
For 1918, there was even more press attention, with the News of 19 April admonishing other newspapers for having “occasioned thousands of people considerable disappointment by premature announcement of the wistaria blossom fete” to be held, because of America’s involvement in the First World War, by the local chapter of the Red Cross. “Due to the lateness of the season” the vine “is not now in full blossom” and so the event was delayed about a week.
Repeating what was reported for the prior year, the account went on that the vine possessed “a reputation worldwide” that “not only brings the lovely little city of the foothills into special prominence” but provided another tourist attraction for the region. Yet, two days later, the Times in its regular column of Sierra Madre news stated that “the Wistaria fete . . . has been the mecca for hundreds of tourists” with Red Cross members serving refreshments to those venturing to see the vine.
By early May, though, according to the Arcadia Tribune of 4 May, “several thousands persons have vitwed [sic] . . . during the past ten days, and hundreds more are expected to visit this beauty spot within the next few days.” The paper observed that “the vine has been at its best the past week,” but the bloom was fading and those wishing to see it were encouraged to go over the next couple of days. One group that took in the spectacle was a Long Beach chapter of the Red Cross, with twenty women enjoying a picnic lunch nearby and then visited the vine, where their Sierra Madre colleagues sold refreshments “and all kinds of articles.”
The 1919 edition of the fete began on 2 April, with the bloom anticipated to last a week to ten days and the 300-foot vine, “the object of admiration by people from all parts of the world,” was the centerpiece of an event that, with the war over several months prior was sponsored by various organizations in Sierra Madre. Tea gardens and booths serving light lunches and other refreshments were placed under the expanse of the vine and “a kaleidoscopic view . . . may be seen in all its grandeur.”
The Times of the 1st reported that the prior year festival drew 5,000 visitors and proceeds totaled $2,350 with the current edition of the event held under the auspices of the local chamber of commerce and woman’s club and “the proceeds from the sale of lunches, cooked foods, candies, flowers and so forth will be divided.” The Chamber planned to use its share for a fund for a memorial to soldiers who fought in the late conflict, while the woman’s club earmarked monies for its sinking fund to pay debt.
We’ll return tomorrow with part two and carry the store of the Sierra Madre wisteria vine through the 1920s.