by Paul R. Spitzzeri
As has been oft-noted in this blog, greater Los Angeles was the original wine-making center of California until the much superior conditions of Napa and Sonoma counties supplanted our area. Even its heyday, however, local vineyards, largely devoted to the so-called Mission grape, or vitis vinifera, produced a rather poor quality of wine, so what was for more successful was the processing of the grapes into brandy through fermentation, yielding aguardiente, a powerful high-alcohol version that fueled many fights and acts of violence in an already crime-ridden City of the Angels.
Other products like Angelica, port and sherry, all of which were fortified with spirits like brandy and had a very high sugar content, proved to be more palatable to most consumers than the table wine with intense tannins that proved to be very bitter. William Workman, for example, was a grape grower for decades and, in the mid-1860s, built three wineries just south of the still-existing Workman House, to process some the fruit of some 100,000 vines on 100 acres irrigated by water from San José Creek (now a flood control channel.)
Until pest infestations and diseases wreaked havoc on almost all of the region’s vines in the later 1880s, the industry in greater Los Angeles was quite active, with such figures as Leonard J. Rose, Mathew Keller, Benjamin D. Wilson and others being the largest growers and manufacturers, while Workman was more of a middle level producer. As for those who distilled separately from growing, this was more rare, but one example from the mid-1870s was the facility briefly operated by Elisha Terry Tarbox and it involved a notable degree of controversy of operations as gleaned from newspaper accounts, mainly from 1874 to 1878.
Tarbox was born in New York state in July 1837 to Jane Terry and George Tarbox, who, however, died when Elisha was just a baby. His mother married a second time, but lost this husband after six years, with the union producing a daughter. In February 1847, the Mormon convert became the third wife of Brigham Young, who officially became President of the Latter Day Saints and retained that position for nearly three decades, though she died after just five days of marriage and as the Mormons were readying the leave Nebraska on their migration to Utah and the establishment of their Zion.
It appears that Tarbox was raised by his mother’s parents and little is known about his early life until he ended up in San Francisco in the 1850s. Whether he remained a Mormon is also not known, but he embarked on a career as a launderer, including at the well-known What Cheer House hotel, which opened in 1852, was destroyed by the fire that followed the earthquake of 1906 and the site of which is a state historic landmark. He also owned a laundry in Vallejo to the northeast of the Bay Area. In 1868, he suffered the double tragedy of losing his wife and their only child.
Why Tarbox decided to migrate to Los Angeles and engage in a totally different and likely unfamiliar line of work is not known, but, in mid-September 1872, as the city and region were amidst the first period of significant and sustained period of growth, he acquired 20 acres just east of the Los Angeles River where César E. Chávez Avenue crosses now (in the area where the massive Union Pacific/Southern Pacific railyard is situated) for $14,000, this money perhaps being a major part of his assets derived from his laundry business.
The property was owned from 1867 to 1869 by Lorenzo D. Gavitt, a Rhode Island native who came to California during the Gold Rush and long resided in San Jose, before resettling in the Angel City. Before he headed west, Gavitt operated a distillery, likely of hard liquor, in Massachusetts and took up that occupation again with an enterprise on his riverside tract. He sold the distillery and land to James S. Kennedy, and moved west in the La Cienega section where he farmed, and Kennedy sold the distillery and tract to Tarbox.
There may have been some issues, however, in Tarbox readying the distillery for operation, including a significant amount of renovation, as it was two years before it looks to have finally been put into use. The Los Angeles Express of 22 August 1874 included a listing in its real estate transactions section of Tarbox assigning “the Los Angeles Distillery, Refinery and Boarding House, and lands thereby occupied, east of river” as a straw deed of $1 to Charles N. Felton, a San Francisco figure of note who was treasurer of the federal mint there and went on to be a member of the House of Representatives and Senator—apparently, Felton had a major financial interest in the distillery.
The 19 September edition of the paper then reported,
Mr. Tarbox will on the 6th proximo [following], commence distilling brandy from grapes in the new distillery across the river. He expects to use seven tons of grapes a day [the paper soon corrected this to be 70]. Taking this fact into consideration, in connection with the speedy inauguration of the Alden fruit drying process, our vineyardists and orchardists may confidently rely upon a good market for all their productions this season.
Whether this was the first distillery in the city specific to a particular product is not known, but the reference to the Alden works is also notable, as this was another new enterprise highly promoted in the local press as a boon to its booming agriculture—which took economic precedence after the floods and droughts of the early Sixties severely damaged the livestock industry, long the backbone of the regional economy.
The Los Angeles Herald of the same day added that “grape raisers are beginning to harvest their crop now, preparatory to manufacturing them into wine and spirits” and that Tarbox was to begin his operations on 5 October. Two days later, the Express, having corrected the amount of fruit to be used in the distillery, opined that “the prospect for a profitable disposal of the entire vintage of the valley is now excellent.”
In its 6 October edition, the Los Angeles Star published a feature on the distillery after it and the other papers in town, along with other citizens, were taken on a tour and “to witness the commencement of operations,” which were being directly overseen by Lucien Curtis under the general oversight of Tarbox. The paper added that “everything about the establishment looks as neat and nice as can be, many improvements having been made with a view to effective operations.”
In mid-afternoon, the machinery was fired up and a stem-remover and crusher, driven by a 60-horsepower engine, handled 3,300 pounds of grapes in six minutes. A crew of 30 “will furnish the muscle for handling boxes of grapes and doing whatever else is necessary about the premises.” One the juice was derived it was sent to a vat of 2,500 gallons for mashing and then into a dozen 5,000-gallon tubes “where it is allowed to stand for forty-eight hours to ferment. After this, the material was placed in a 12,000-gallon cistern and then into the distiller and, finally, into a trio of casks of 2,500 gallons each.
At this point, the article observed, these storage tanks
are kept, together with the room in which they are placed, closed under the lock and key of our respected Uncle Samuel, whose deputy, John O. Wheeler, Esq., sees to that part of the arrangement.
That is, the federal government took responsibility for guarding the product and Wheeler, who co-published the Southern Californian newspaper some two decades ago, was the local Internal Revenue Service (formed in 1862 to collect income and other taxes to fund the Union effort during the Civil War) official in handling the security. Once the visit was completed, the party decamped to Tarbox’s house for consuming “a bounteous collation . . . as well as of sundry bottles of green seal [referring to the federal tax seal] and other delicate potables.”
The end of the excursion included a toast to Tarbox, who “promised to devote his energy and money,” and, almost certainly, that of Felton and others, “to the building up of the new industry.” As most of the group left the house, E.J.C. Kewen, a notable local, arrived and the Star remarked that “we presume there was no lack of good things for those who remained, even if half a dozen hungry reporters had been playing knife and fork at the table.”
In its report of the tour, the Express observed that 10 tons of grapes were processed during it, this being the hourly capacity of the distillery. It also added that the material was taken from the cistern and “pumped to the top of the building where it passes into the still.” The paper concluded that, “Mr. Tarbox, the lessee [of Felton as recent owner], has made extensive improvements in the works and he will doubtless be rewarded by a very profitable season.”
The Herald of 22 October reported that “operations at the distillery will be partially stopped for a few days to allow the grape juice now at hand to be worked up and the fermenting tubs cleared.” It was added that, while there were a dozen of these with a combined capacity of 60,000 gallons, “they are insufficient to receive the pulp from the crusher, when run to its full capacity for any length of time.” Though harvesting of grapes “has thus received a temporary check,” it was presumed that work would soon resume.
Nothing further was reported until the 26 February 1875 issue of the Herald, which briefly stated, in its Local Brevities section, that “Tarbox’s Distillery was again seized by Government authorities yesterday for alleged irregularities.” The following day’s edition, which is in the Homestead’s collection, addressed this matter in great detail and with no little amount of sarcasm about the presence of federal agents and officials in town. Its multiple-part headline included “A Grape Brandy Bonanza” and “An Underground Reservoir of Brandy Discovered” as well as “The Los Angeles Distillery In A Tight Place.”
The paper stated that,
The Los Angeles distillery has for some time been in the hands of the Revenue officers, on suspicion that it had manufactured more grape brandy than it paid revenue [taxes] for. Lately it was permitted to resume operations for the purpose of working up the stock, but at no time was it entirely free from the talons of the American eagle.
Federal officers were mum, so a reporter crossed the bridge to the facility and “our attention was attracted to a number of vineyardists who had sold their grapes to Mr. Tarbox . . . and had not yet received their pay therefor.” It was discovered that “in a hidden away corner of the distillery the officers dug a small shaft, and at the depth of a foot or so they struck a perpendicular iron pipe with a plug in the end.” It went six feet under and half of that was “filled with spirits.”
The pipe was traced as it went horizontal and, after 100 feet, “just where it ran under a shed used as a deposit for grape boxes, they came upon a prize in the shape of a wooden tank about ten feet deep and perhaps sixteen feet in diameter, level full of fine grape brandy.” More investigation yielded the finding of a second such tank, under a wagon shed, “similar in size and also full of brandy.” Both were about a foot-and-a-half below ground “and the surface of the ground was carefully planked over.”
From the wagon shed, “it was easy to raise the contents with a pump” and the feds recorded that the two tanks stored some 30,000 gallons of brandy and the paper observed that “there is room around there for half a dozen more of these tanks” and workers hired to conduct the digging operation were to continue with that task. In a barn, moreover, “under the hay . . . we found thirteen pipes [barrels] of brandy carefully stowed away” and this was mentioned to the officers.
The Herald blithely added,
It’s a wonderful place for grape brandy, and if a few hundred pipes are found in the cook-stove and a like number in the distiller’s hat, we shall not be surprised. Counting our hay-mow discovery and that promiscuously scattered around and dug up out of the ground, there have been about 60,000 gallons already brought to light. The distillery accounts for 25,000 gallons manufactured, and 15,000 gallons of that was sold and removed. On what is already in the hands of the officers, the Government revenue amounts to over forty thousand dollars, none of which has been paid.
The article concluded with the question of “how and when was the brandy buried?” with the paper facetiously noting that, as it had been known for thousands of years that interring the beverage improved its flavor, “some people have started the theory that what was found by the officers yesterday was buried by C[hristopher] Columbus, while on a spree.” Others, it continued, “believe that Los Angeles is as full of brandy deposits as the San Fernando [Santa Susana] mountains are of petroleum.” Consequently, the Herald exclaimed, “we live in an age of wonders. Only think, Los Angeles valley [is] one great grape brandy bonanza!”
The 28 February issue, also in the Museum’s holdings, further addressed “The Grape Brandy Bonanza” and, while saying that there weren’t many more details about the seizing of the distillery and the finding of the “contrabond [sic] brandy,” it stated that,
It seems to be the general impression that the distillery has been carried on for the sole purpose of defrauding the Government out of the tax on its products. The discoveries made indicate that everything has been carefully and deliberately planned. There are no signs of recent preparation; the pipe and underground vats appear to have been arranged some months ago. The fence and buildings over the latter were erected last Fall and were probably put up more as a blind and cover than for the purposes for which they are used. The distillery building and real estate are in the name of Tarbox, but it is generally supposed that parties both in this city and San Francisco are in partnership with him and were fully cognizant of the unlawful nature of the business carried on.
Additionally, remarked the Herald, “the real sufferers are the farmers who sold their grape crop to the distillery and have not received a cent therefor.” Moreover, it was observed that “two years ago, when Curtis was at the head of the concern, the grape growers were victimized,” and, now that it appeared that the same situation took place, the plight of local grape growers “excites the sympathy of the whole community.”
Such could not be said for Tarbox, Curtis and others affiliated with the enterprise, as, concluded the paper, “they violated the law and the penalty of conviction is the forfeiture of their entire property.” This was deemed well and good “did they not involve in the wreck the hard earnings of a great many poor and industrious farmers.”
We’ll return tomorrow with part two of this post, so be sure to check back with us then!