by Paul R. Spitzzeri
As has been pointed out earlier in this blog, the Al. G. Barnes Wild Animal Circus received plenty of positive publicity for performances in greater Los Angeles press coverage, but the proprietor’s personal peccadilloes put him in the news for much else. This was largely centered on the long divorce battle with his first wife, Dollie, and her concerted efforts to get revenge, mainly by accusing him of Mann Act violations in the transporting of women across state lines for immoral purposes. A second divorce, to one of those women, Kate Hartigan, also raised some eyebrows.
The narrative continued beyond the early 1920s, though the legal woes became financial, as well. Still, that mix of promotional circus coverage and sensationalized personal reporting worked in an uneasy tandem. For example, as the 1923 season came to a close, the Pomona Bulletin of 14 November featured “Tusko,” an elephant that the circus claimed was “the largest creature that walks the earth, and it was reported that his tusks spanned seven feet with enough ivory to supply keys for hundreds of pianos and billiard balls for all the pool tables in the area.
Also highlighted was one of the 65 circus clowns, Bill Tate, who evidently turned down motion picture work to remain in his long-held vocation. The account continued that “in this stand Tate is almost alone for all the other members of ‘clown alley’ with the Barnes circus have at some time or another participated in screen productions.” This meant that “when the circus arrives many film fans will recognize the familiar faces of some of their favorite screen actors among the clowns who provide the merriment that is so essential in every well-balanced circus program.”
The connection to Hollywood was further represented in a pair of photo ops with actor Estelle Taylor, who achieved some significant stardom though she was probably best known from 1925 onwards as the wife of heavyweight champion boxer Jack Dempsey. The publicity pieces showed Taylor clowning with a Barnes monkey and a film camera, as well as feeding fish to one of the circus seals. An innovation for the 1924 season was the introduction of racing ostriches with riders in wild costumes—a photo in the recently launched Los Angeles Illustrated Daily News seems to show one of them in blackface as if portraying an African.
Another way to attract attention and audiences was a pairing of the circus with the newly opened residential tract of East Compton, as its developer, the Long Beach Investment Company, offered the Barnes show, still in its winter downtime, as part of a mid-February extravaganza that included one of the well-known “Spanish” dinners by the “Barbeque King” Joe Romero, father of Homestead owner Walter P. Temple’s paramour, Modesta Romero Bassity.
Speaking of lavish entertainment, just a week after that event, Barnes threw a lavish party at his residence on the winter quarters property, by then denoted as being in Culver City, though it was unincorporated county land close to that film studio town. The Venice Vanguard of the 24th remarked,
Wild animals and birds of rare species from Africa, India and Central America formed a colorful and spectacular setting for the “Jungleland Party” given by Al. G. Barnes . . . at his home and the winter quarters . . .
A representative gathering of the Southland’s most socially prominent folk attended the gorgeous function, including many artists and celebrities of international fame.
The paper gushed that the colors of the costumes worn by guests and the decorations meant that “never has a more brilliant and original setting been provided for a social function in Los Angeles county.” Moreover, the home’s “magnificent dining room, with its decorated ceiling and superbly painted frescoes” was highlighted, as was the fact that “the interior of the spacious ballroom was transformed into a veritable jungle, with a myriad of colors representing tropic vegetation.
Birds were plentiful in hanging gilt cages and canaries sang when the band took a break. The article also mentioned that “the reception hall of the Barnes residence was decorated in the manner of a Roman atrium” including the note that “the floor, inlaid with mosaics and black and white Carrara marble, was covered with priceless Oriental rugs.” To the sides fountains gurgled with scented water and, not unlike Temple’s La Casa Nueva, then under construction, the Barnes mansion had “in the center wall dominating the entire foyer . . . a magnificent piece of stained glass,” with a representation of Stanley’s expedition in central Africa, juxtaposed to the Temple home’s rendering of ships bringing supplies to colonists in Spanish California.
The accolades continued to flow as the Vanguard commented that Barnes’ domicile “represented the house beautiful, the last word in comfort, culture and splendor” while “the feast was worthy of Lucullus,” a Roman general and politician, and “the floral decorations alone drew gasps of admiration from all present. An abundance of Japanese lanterns and suspended parasols was also noted, along with cherry trees, ferns, palms, smilax and wisteria in profusion.
Dancing and dinner were also described in some detail and the entertainment included a pianist performing “several tropical selections of his own composition, including popular American jazz,” while a pair of opera singers employed by the circus included one who was the star of a new element to the show, “Pocahontas at the Court of Queen Anne.” Also noted was that fact that “one of the sensational features of the evening was a one-act jungle drama, staged by Barnes circus performers and wild lions and tigers.”
The piece ended with the observation that “following the dance, the guests visited the circus grounds adjacent to the house, where many of the educated [as opposed to “trained”] wild animals entertained with tricks and hair-raising ‘stunts.'” The most apt summary, perhaps, for the bacchanale was that “when Mr. Barnes plays the host he never does anything by halves” and one can only imagine how much money was expended for the event.
In the midst of the 1924-1925 winter rest, the Los Angeles Times in its New Year edition, featuring a photo of the impresario with Sally, an orangutan, who looked like she wanted to be anywhere but in his arms being photographed, told readers,
One of Southern California’s great winter amusement places is Al. G. Barnes’ Winter Quarters and Zoo, better known in Greater Los Angeles as Barnes’ Circus City located on Washington Boulevard, between Culver City and Venice. Here each year, when the circus goes into winter quarters, thousands of animals—to be exact, 4000—furnish an amusement feature unexcelled by anything of a similar character in the world.
The article enumerated the menagerie that comprised the circus’ animal population, including some said to the only of their kind in the country and there was also mention of “Joe Martin,” an orangutan said to be “the only Gorilla Man in captivity” and a performer in dozens of movies including some with the animal as the star. The list of creatures is lengthy, including “Lotus,” accounted to be “the largest performing hippopotamus in the world.”
In all, the Times concluded, the enterprise “is one of the largest of its kind in the world, including perhaps more performing show animals than all other shows combined.” This meant, it noted, that the “Barnes Circus is known everywhere as the circus that is different and distinctively in a class by itself.”
At the conclusion of the 1925 season, the Pasadena Star-News of 13 November ran a photo of Mabel Gardner and Margaret Graham, trainers posed with elephants, of which one called Ruth was a new addition and of whom it was said that “hobnobbing with pretty motion picture actresses is a privilege which is not accorded everyone, but Ruth can’t see anything to prevent her being as sociable as she likes; especially since the movie stars are her companions on the road this year.”
That interestingly monikered “Pocahontas in the Court of Queen Anne” was deemed “the greatest circus feature triumph of the age” as well as “the most resplendent and historic American extravaganza the show world has evolved. Joe Martin was mentioned here, too, but, notably, the orangutan was recently acquired by Barnes from Universal Pictures after it appeared in some 50 films from 1914-1924, but incidents involving attacks on other animals, film crew members and actors led the studio to determine that the animal was too dangerous and it remained with the circus for several years.
A few months after the Star-News article, however, the Vanguard of 23 February 1926 reported that an animal cruelty complaint concerning Tusko was issued against Barnes and two circus staff members by a Humane Animal Commission member and a deputy sheriff with a hearing held in Long Beach at which the impresario pled not guilty.
Other reports stated that the elephant killed a trainer and that it broke its famed tusks against a cage after a humane society officer entered to examine it. Not long after the Express published a mock interview with Tusko, who was said to express disdain for the negative publicity. The Long Beach jurist, however, ruled that there was no mistreatment of the pachyderm by the circus.
The Whittier News of 31 August reported on another animal trainer incident as William Westlake, a veteran, was bitten 19 times by a python that was 23 feet long and weighed 215 pounds. Westlake reached in the snake’s mouth to treat it for a sore when it grabbed the trainer’s wrist and then began the deadly wrapping around him. Westlake managed to grab a stick and shoved it in the animal’s mouth to get free, but it was stated that the python was likely to succumb to injuries from the stick being jabbed in its mouth.
More legal problems arose for Barnes in 1926, including indictments for purported tax fraud involving nearly $190,000 from 1920-1922 as well as associated perjury allegations regarding the illegal reporting, though nothing was located as to an adjudication of these charges. The 23 April edition of the Vanguard published a Notice of Foreclosure Sale in suit filed against Barnes and his circus by the lumber firm of Patten and Davies, which was owned some $1,850. The decree involved the entirety of the winter quarters property.
Notably, in November 1925, the paper reported that Barnes planned some $100,000 in improvements and beautification so that “the circus plant is to be made one of the most attractive spots in Southern California.” The plan included replacing the wire fence encompassing the property with a coped brick one, importing a dozen palm trees costing some $6,000 from the East Indies, and the addition of driveways, fountains and pergolas. Lastly, “new buildings for the many rare animals at the establishment will also be built,” while Barnes’ already luxurious residence was to be further enhanced.
Finally, as Culver City looked to expand westward and annex the territory including the winter quarters, the impresario concocted a plan to establish Barnes City, which, following a February election yielding a result of 148-127 in favor of creation, was incorporated the following month and a board of trustees established to manage the new town and comprised of “Progressives” aligned with the circus magnate. Barnes’ brother and circus partner, Albert Stonehouse, became mayor and one of the trustees was Porfirio Machado, descendant of a family that once owned large swaths of land in the area before the American seizure of Mexican California.
In short order, a slate of “Home Owners” mounted a challenge and took control of the board in an April 1926 election, just as that foreclosure was taking place, as well as the tax fraud allegations. Further legal wrangling finally led to a new movement to have Barnes City annexed to Los Angeles and a mid-September election decided that by a majority of 261-153.
A Vanguard article from nearly three decades later identified the boundaries of the shortly-lived Barnes City, accounting for changes to roads through the mid-1950s (and we have to consider what has transpired in the seven decades since), so that Washington Boulevard, where the entrance was, was the western limit.
To the north, the boundary was Berryman Avenue, while Ballona Creek was said to be the eastern edge. Finally, Mesmer Avenue, now only on the opposite side of the creek, then becoming to the west today’s Stoner Avenue and Kensington Road, was denoted as the southern limit.
Following a link in Cato Hernández’ recent LAist article on Barnes City, another map, however, shows a wider and strangely shaped configuration with one limit being as far west as Washington and Del Rey Avenue, which is just north of Lincoln Boulevard, as far south as Jefferson Boulevard between Centinela and Mesmer avenues (this latter about where Interstate 405 and the 90 Freeway intersect) and as far east as very close to the southern boundary of Culver City High School. Generally, the Barnes City area is today’s Del Rey neighborhood in the City of Los Angeles.
In any case, a confluence of critical events took place by mid-1926 that forced Barnes to pull up stakes and move his circus’ winter quarters to a more rural and much less expensive area. That finally gets us to Baldwin Park and we’ll pick up the story there tomorrow with part six of this post. Be sure to join us then!