by Paul R. Spitzzeri
Even though greater Los Angeles, by 1886, entered into the Boom of the 1880s, with a significant growth in population and development, as well as a major boost in tourist, the Sierra Madre Villa hotel, built by painter William Cogswell and managed by his son-in-law William P. Rhoades and then his son, Gardner, did not appear to have benefited from the transformation as might be expected.
For one, despite its recent expansion and renovations, increasing the capacity of guests from 50 to 100, it faced stiff competition from larger resort hotels like the Raymond in South Pasadena as well as ones in Santa Monica, Redondo, Pasadena and other regional locales. While it was not even a decade old, the Villa did not present the type of accommodation capacity and amenities of newer rivals.
Moreover, much of its appeal looks to have come from its country location, but as the western San Gabriel Valley grew, that meant encroachment on the Villa, even if its view was still stunning and the accommodations and atmosphere remained impressive. In fact, the 11 February 1887 issue of the Los Angeles Times contained a letter to the editor that referenced the hotel and its South Pasadena counterpart with respect to the boom in proclaiming, for those health-seekers staying there,
Then you of the Sierra Madre Villa and of the Raymond, when you feel the bloom and vigor of health returning, can look with deeper interest over the beautiful broad plain between you and the sea and realize how all here, air and vapors, sea and land, wind and sunshine and scenery grand and lovely have united to bring you back to life and usefulness and happiness.
Those seeking to restore their health certainly continued to come locally and from abroad, including prominent persons mentioned in the press. Emily Gray Mayberry, whose family owned the El Molino Viejo (Old Mill) property in modern San Marino—this formerly owned by William Workman—made the short trip early in the year “expecting relief from its pure air and water and pleasant surroundings” as she was “a great sufferer, but a cheerful and patient one” from bronchial issues.
A long term winter guest was William B. Woods, an associate justice of the United States Supreme Court, with the Los Angeles Herald of 20 April observing that “he is suffering from chronic diabetes for which no remedy of climate seems to be available.” Despite his long sojourn at the Villa, however, Woods, after returning to Washington after missing a term of the court, died just a few weeks later.
In the summer, his colleague, Stephen Field, whose tenure lasted 34 years, was interviewed by the Herald of 12 August and mentioned his visits to the Raymond, the Shorb place (now the location of the Huntington Library, Art Museum and Botanical Gardens), Santa Monica and the Villa, and enthused that “I have seen in all my travels hardly anything more beautiful” while predicting a great future for the Los Angeles region—provided that the harbor at San Pedro and Wilmington could be properly improved.
Another guest who was one of a number who succumbed to their ailments while recuperating at the Villa was Tracy Titus, manager of opera companies, most recently the Carleton, and former husband of actor and producer Alice Oates. The 14 March edition of the Times reported that his stay in an effort to recover from tuberculosis, which ravaged so many in the country during the 19th century, was for naught and he died a few days prior, just a couple months after Oates passed away from pneumonia.
In fact, the burgeoning popularity of the San Gabriel Mountains foothill communities for those seeking respite from TB and other diseases included the establishment in 1887 of two nearby sanitariums: one on the place of John S. Vosburg, very close to the Villa, and the Sierra Madre Sanatorium, which specifically advertised that it sat 100 feet higher above sea level than the Villa and claim “an unsurpassed view.”
Development, however, also kept apace during the frenzied boom. Leonard J. Rose’s Lamanda Park was the home of the depot of the Los Angeles and San Gabriel Valley Railroad, which was soon absorbed by the California Central Railroad, a subsidiary of the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe, which completed its transcontinental line to greater Los Angeles as a key catalyst to the boom.
Then came Cogswell’s son-in-law, Samuel D. Hovey, who acquired the southernmost 100 acres of the Sierra Madre Villa tract and announced, in April 1887, a new town named for the Southern Pacific’s Collis P. Huntington, uncle of Henry, founder of the aforementioned institution—the boomtown, like so many, vanished when the inevitable bust came.
Gardner Cogswell continued his management of the Villa and advertisements in the spring and fall included a lithographic print of the facility, but the year 1888 when the boom went bust was a quiet one for the hotel with only occasional general references to it as part of discussions of the San Gabriel Valley’s many attractions. This continued the following year, with most media accounts concerning an infestation of insect-generated red scale on the orange trees and Cogswell’s efforts to address the problem, which he asserted was solved with the introduction of an Australian ladybug.
Another effort to promote the Villa came early in 1890, by which time the local economy was in difficult circumstances following the end of the boom and the Los Angeles Express of 28 January included a brief article which observed that “its cheerful outlook, its semi-tropical surroundings and its profusion of home comforts have made it popular.”
Citing a motto from ads that “for comfort, a pleasant home, good living, pure air and sparkling mountain water, which are so essential for health, there is no rival,” the piece also remarked that “possessed of a genial climate, freedom from fogs, malaria and dampness and having an affable host and hostess this resort can but be a popular one.”
The 28 April edition of the Express, however, under the heading of “An Old Land Mark in Trouble” reported that the Villa “was attached” and that there were no guests at the time so that “the premises once so beautiful now look very forlorn.” Tellingly, it was added that “since the advent of other similar resorts its patronage has been so small as to discourage the managers from keeping it open during the summer,” though discounted rates had been offering previously for that season.
The Times of the same day went into more detail concerning the legal action, commenting that Deputy Sheriff (and future Sheriff) William Hammel, joined by a local constable, “served the papers of attachment, upon the property, thereby closing the hotel” and that this resulted from a lawsuit filed by Trowbridge H. Ward “on the part of the Board of Trade” in Los Angeles. This obviously indicated that Gardner Cogswell was financially indebted to the organization, but, in June, Cogswell and his wife Elizabeth, she a former opera singer, hosted a musical soiree at the Villa.
This, however, might have been one last bash to mark fifteen years of the family’s ownership of the property, as, the Express of 16 January reported that
The Sierra Madre Villa has been sold by William G. Cogswell to Sarah E. Carll. The property includes the famous hotel, furniture and appurtenances, with 76.81 acres of ground and water right. The price paid is $55,000 . . . The buy is a dead bargain. The site commands the finest view in this section. Many men of wide travel say there is nothing like it in the world. The climate is perfect.
Sarah’s husband, Peter, was a noted builder and former federal marshal in New Haven, Connecticut and a late May account from the Courier and Journal from that city reported that the couple had just returned from California with Peter in such a state that he “presents a picture of almost perfect robust health,” so it seems the Carlls came to our area for the reason so many easterners did in that era. The account continued that Peter “has bought the Sierra Madre Villa hotel, which is one of the most admirably located pieces of hotel property in all California and is situated in the midst of a semi-tropical paradise.”
Moreover, the piece went on, “connected with the hotel is seventy-five acres of land which is so utilized that it seems like a glimpse at fairy-land.” After describing the general surroundings, including that impeccable view of the mountains to the north and the valley and regions beyond to the south, the paper remarked that “comfort as well as luxury reigns at the villa. The air is pure and produces an exhilarating effect almost immediately upon the new comer. It seems to contain an ozone peculiar to itself.”
Beyond this, it was observed that “the hotel has already become famous, and its hospitality has been shared by famous men by the score, not only of this country, but of Europe and Canada,” with former Secretary of War (Defense) J. Donald Cameron, also a United States Senator from Pennsylvania, cited as one whose health was restored after a lengthy convalescence there. As for the future, the Courier and Journal noted,
It was only with the view of adding even to the beauty and size of the hotel and its surroundings that prompted Mr. Carll to advertise for the leasing of the same, so that he might give his personal attention to that work alone. He intends to make it one of the largest hotels in the state of California, put up Chinese pagodas on the grounds in appropriate nooks and corners, make new driveways and walks and in fact do little short of reaching perfection.
The paper observed that Carll sent out twenty cars, with 300 boxes each, of oranges and another thousand boxes of limes and hundreds of lemons, as well as apricots, figs, peaches and other produce from the Villa grounds. It reported that the new owner had an offer from some capitalists in the Golden State to have Carll oversee the launching of new towns and involvement in mining with a princely annual salary of $50,000. Finally, the account ended with the statement that “Mr. Carll has already become one of the most popular men in Southern California and has become already warmly attached to the people and the surroundings.”
Later in June, however, real estate listings in the Express and Times showed that William Cogswell sold 76 acres for $35,000 to the Carlls, but that the couple also immediately conveyed “all interest in agreement . . . for purchase of real estate, known as Sierra Madre Villa, and water” for $1,000 to David Lyman, who also hailed from Connecticut and likely had some relationship to the Carlls.
Lyman’s father, David, Sr., operated a washing machine and wringer company and was president of the Air Line Railroad that ran between Boston and New York City having built a section between Middletown, Willimatic and New Haven and this perhaps being where the Carlls were tied to the Lymans. Whatever the connection, the younger Lyman, an 1889 graduate of Yale University, evidently had some deep pockets from his late father’s estate with which to invest in the Villa.
Almost immediately, the younger Lyman got involved in conflict and controversy at his new enterprise, as in early August he was charged in a civil lawsuit by fruit inspector C.H. Robinson with assault and battery. Lyman, however, claimed, in a letter to the Express, published on 19 August, that he’d detected scale on this trees and undertook remediation, but said that “bug-eater” Robinson showed up to inspect the Villa property and broadcast that it was the worst-infected and, in the dispute that arose, Lyman stated that, unable to get fair treatment by the Times:
The reputation of the gentleman whom I found it necessary to horsewhip to protect my rights and uphold my dignity, will be fully established in the courts. There I am content to leave it.
I have come among the people of this section with such a reputation as a man of character, education and capital to maintain his business is usually possessed. I will at least try to take care of my own affairs, and in failing to do this, will call to my aid bug inspectors of all kinds and, if necessary, some venal newspaper.
For its part, the Times informed readers that Lyman already had instilled bad blood by purchasing a cow for the Villa, taking it to the place and then decided he didn’t want it, which led a Pasadena justice court jury to rule against him. Still, Lyman invested some $25,000 in renovations to the hotel and leased it “at a low rental” to Henry L. Barnard of Greenfield, Massachusetts, to operate the enterprise.
The Times of 13 November added that Lyman had a run-in with the previous manager and that “the most recent unpleasantness reported is the visit of a constable to the villa for the purpose of attaching some of the furniture at the request of a Los Angeles firm.” The paper then concluded by observing “it is not surprising, therefore, to hear that Mr. Lyman is disgusted, and desires to close up his connection with the villa as rapidly as possible.”
With that, we’ll end here and pick up the story tomorrow, so be sure to check back with us then!
At any time and in any place, we can observe how old businesses fade away, taken over by newer ones, much like the Sierra Madre Villa transitioned from being cherished to being forgotten. In recent decades, a striking example occurred in Las Vegas, where the brilliance of the old downtown has been overshadowed by the emergence of the Strip. When reflecting and lamenting such transformations, the Chinese often quote the old saying: “As the waves behind on the Yangtze River drive the waves ahead, each new generation replaces the old.” (長江後浪推前浪，一代新人換舊人)