by Paul R. Spitzzeri
A key reason for choosing to focus on Don Pío Pico, the last governor of Mexican-era California and compadre of the Workman and Temple family whose final resting place is in the Walter P. Temple Memorial Mausoleum at El Campo Cemetery at the Homestead, for the Museum’s participation in this year’s Doors Open California program is because he died on 11 September 1894.
As two prior posts here related to this program have discussed, Pico’s last years were marked by eviction from his beloved El Ranchito home on the Rancho Paso de Bartolo in Whittier, adjacent to the former ranches of the Workmans and Temples; the poverty he endured; movements to provide him financial assistance; public appearances and events in which he declined to participate; and more.
With the second and last day of our offerings, including a slide-illustrated presentation, a small display of artifacts related to Pico, and a tour of El Campo Santo, this post is a “postview” concerning the last days of his life and his death in 1894, as well as a terrible incident that occurred nearly a decade later at what he assumed would be his place of eternal rest, the Calvary Cemetery in Los Angeles.
Don Pío was not the only member of his family to live a lengthy life, his younger sister María Pico de Ortega, died in February at her home in Los Angeles just a few days prior to her 90th birthday. The Los Angeles Herald reported that she “was a wonderful woman in many respects,” citing that “she was highly educated” and “conceived the idea of teaching the children of her family and intimate friends” so that “among her pupils were some of the noted men and women of the state, up to a few years ago.”
Among her students was Don Pío, who “received his first lessons from his bright sister” and Arcadia Bandini, who went on to be the wife of merchant and landowner Abel Stearns and then Robert M. Baker, who built the Baker Block on her former El Palacio residence and co-developed Santa Monica, in which there was a well-known Hotel Arcadia. The article concluded that Señora Ortega was still mentally sharp and the day of her death shared early California history information with a priest.
The Los Angeles Times, in its 13 February coverage of her funeral, reported that there was a large attendance at St. Vincent’s Church, not far from her house, and it echoed its contemporary in observing that Doña María “was a woman of remarkable memory, [with] her recollections of persons and events in California extending over the period of nearly a century.” The piece ended with the report that “the remains were placed in a vault at Calvary Cemetery, where the cast-iron tomb of her brother was also situated.
Another noted funeral at which Don Pío was an attendee was that of Antonio Franco Coronel, a former state treasurer and whose collections of California historical material were mentioned in the two recent posts in this series. Coronel’s 21 April funeral took place from his house at Central Avenue and 7th Street, where a procession went to St. Vibiana’s Cathedral, at Main and 2nd, for the service.
A prominent group of pallbearers included former Mayor Thomas Rowan, banker Isaias W. Hellman, Dr. John S. Griffin (who died later in the year), Andres Machado, and Nicolás Covarrubias. The Herald of the following day added that mourners included “many of the leading citizens and ladies of this city” and that “among the most venerable of the visitors was noted ex-Governor Don Pio Pico, still looking hale and hearty notwithstanding his great burden of years.”
The 15 May edition of the paper had a brief piece that observed “it is not generally known that some of the most famous of the early Californians are now residents of University,” this meaning the burgeoning district around the University of Southern California, formed at the very edge of town and in “the sticks” not even fifteen years prior.
The widow of John C. Frémont, one of the more notable and controversial Americans of the century, was mentioned, although she did not live in Los Angeles until very recently, as was Jonathan Trumbull (Juan Josè) Warner, who settled in the pueblo in 1831 for health reasons. The paper ended by noting that “his nearest neighbor is the venerable Pio Pico, “who was governor of California long before the Mexican war.” While it is true that Pico was an interim chief executive of the Mexican department just after Warner’s arrival, he was governor when the Americans invaded Alta California in 1846.
For the Angel City’s celebration of American independence, the Times of 3 July briefly discussed the preparations of the organizing committee and looked forward to the “providing [of] a programme [sic] that takes the nature of genuine patriotism without entailing any expense upon the businessmen.” The national depression of 1893 still cast a considerable financial pall at the time, but the article ended with the note that prominent personages on the platform for the event included Governor Henry H. Markham, Mrs. Frémont, and Don Pío.
The Los Angeles Express of the same day remarked that the Historical Society of Southern California, then just a little over a decade old and still in existence after 140 years, met in a room at the county courthouse. The paper continued that,
A very delightful paper was read by Mr. H[enry] D. Barrows entitled “California in the ’30s.” The paper, a charming series of reminiscences, was dictated by ex-Governor Pio Pico and Colonel J.J. Warner, and gives many interesting historical events of the years between 1830 and 1840, which were most exciting at that time.
The paper added that a focus of Barrows’ address to “quite a number of visitors” was on the Mission San Gabriel, where much manufacturing, including of blankets, cloth and saddles, was done, while “the Governors of that period,” including, of course, Don Pío, “were also the centers of revolutionary spirit.”
It is not known whether Pico was present for the talk, so it may well be that his presence on the Independence Day celebration dais was his last major public appearance. Though the last post included a statement from one of the papers that his health was such that friends believed he could live to be 125, the Express of 11 September reported that Don Pío “has been ailing for some time and his death was not unexpected.”
Though he’d resided in the University Park area since he was forced from his El Ranchito adobe house, Pico passed away at the house of a daughter on the southwest corner of Broadway and 15th Street, where a textile company operates today. In its encomium, the paper told its readers that,
Don Pico’s [it should either be “Don Pío” or “Señor Pico’] life of nearly a century in California has been one of many years connected with public affairs. He was one of the most capable and influential men in the early history of California . . . [During the Mexican-American War] Don Pio was Governor . . . and did his best to defend the Territory, but the contest was a hopeless one . . . He accepted the inevitable and became a good American citizen. He has for many years been seen on our streets, a striking figure; his hair and beard snowy white, but he was a vigorous and courtly as a cavalier of 25.
The obituary, noting that an oil painting of Pico from 1868 and donated by him hung on the walls of the Historical Society’s quarters, concluded that his once extensive landholdings and wealth were long gone, but that “Don Pio was liberal, generous and a gentleman of the old school.”
The Herald of the 12th different from its competitor in saying that, though Pico suffered from a short illness, the unidentified writer “saw him driving through the streets in his buggy behind his well known brown horse only a few days ago,” while, “notwithstanding his great age, he was a hearty, vigorous man up to within a few days of his death.”
The paper recounted some of Pico’s political career including that he “vainly endeavored to sustain the Mexican cause” in the American seizure of the department, noting that he “fled the country,” while his brother, General Andrés Pico, remained to surrender the territory to Frémont—not mentioning, however, the stunning victory of the Californios, commanded by the general, at San Pasqual near San Diego prior to the capitulation.
In the postwar period, the account went on, after the return and a brief stay at the Workman House, for which the military commander in the pueblo, Col. Jonathan D. Stevenson wrote that William Workman “was ever hostile to the American cause” for not remanding Pico to his authority, “Governor Pico continued to reside in Los Angeles, where he had immense interests, both in ranchos and in city property.”
The article continued that Don Pío “was of a very litigious temperament, and was constantly in the courts” which, in turn, meant that “most of his vast possessions were dissipated by the enormous expense” involved “and the closing years of his life were embittered by poverty brought upon him by his own contentious disposition.” Clearly, the Herald had a different perspective on Pico than the Express!
It did cite Barrows, who provided some history of Pico, adding that most of his last three years were spent in a house provided to him by Warner and his wife, who were “the godchildren of the old man, he having stood with them at their marriage many years ago, according to the Spanish custom.” Barrows concluded that Pico never learned to speak English (and, of course, that issue was a significant factor in the fraud that led to the loss of El Ranchito), but stated that Don Pío “was a kind, generous man, a friend to those in need, and many of the early settlers owe much to his helping hand.”
The Times, in its feature, affirmed that Pico could be seen on his daily “constitutional” riding through town until not long before he passed. It remarked,
Don Pico [sic] was the courtly Spanish gentleman of the old school up to the last. While he was friendly to Americans, he never learned the English language, and always spoke through an interpreter in his conversations with them. He always commanded respect, and had many warm friends among the old-timers in this end of the State.
While recounting his once-vast landholdings and property and then the shock of the Cohn suit, the Times opined that “his decline seemed to date from that time [of the loss of the latter case], as he then appeared to lose hope.” Strangely, it added that he returned to El Ranchito after the legal affair ended “and there remained until some months ago, when he came into the city to the place where he died,” when he moved to Los Angeles three years before and lived next to Warner until relocating to his daughter’s residence.
The paper also provided a detailed summation of Don Pío’s life, including his early years and some of his siblings, but focused, as to be expected, on the drama of his political life and his governorship. The piece ended with the observation that “Gov. Pico, who was almost the last of his family, was hale and robust up to a short time before his death; he was to be seen on the streets, a striking figure; his white hair and full beard attracting attention wherever he went.”
As was the case with his sister, Pico’s funeral, discussed in the Express of the 13th, was held at St. Vincent’s and the pallbearers included Rowan, José G. Estudillo, lawyer George H. Smith, Richard Egan, politician Reginaldo del Valle, and William R. Rowland, son of the late co-owner, with William Workman, of Rancho La Puente and a former sheriff and oil company owner. A bit of poesy was shown as the account recorded that “the casket was placed in front of the altar, the light of many candles falling softly on the face of the ex-Governor whose lips were sealed in death.”
In a brief statement in its editorial page, the paper commented,
All that was mortal of that old historic character, DON PIO PICO, was laid in its final resting place this morning. Probably no man in California had such an intensely romantic and exciting career as the deceased. He was the very embodiment of Spanish gallantry and generosity and was withal broad-minded and liberal in his beliefs.
The Herald of that day remarked that, within a short period of time, five former Golden State governors had died, with the others being Frederick F. Low, Leland Stanford, George Stoneman, and John G. Downey. The paper, following its more dour assessment of the life and times of Don Pío, offered its own peculiar encomium, penned in purple prose a bit which, tellingly, focused on the superiority of the American era, not the Spanish and Mexican ones:
What eventful years this half century of the nonagenarian’s life have been! They witnesses the overthrow of one civilization, and the rise and, we might almost say, the culmination of another which so far surpasses it in the glory of its advancement as the effulgence of a sunlit day over an obscure and moonless night.
It’s been a great pleasure to take part for the second year in a row in the Doors Open program and to share some of the history of Don Pío Pico and his wife María Ygnacia Alvarado, who, thanks to the efforts of Walter P. Temple, rest in peace in the tranquil setting of El Campo Santo Cemetery and the elegant little mausoleum Temple built for his family and their compadres.