by Paul R. Spitzzeri
We conclude, with this third part, the latest of our Boyle Heights at 150 series of posts, commemorating the 1875 founding of the Los Angeles neighborhood, with more on the life of its namesake, Andrew A. Boyle (1818-1871), whose experiences in Ireland, Texas, Louisiana and California included plenty of drama, as well as perseverance as he came to success in the Angel City during his last baker’s dozen years.
This included the successful production of wine from the Paredon Blanco (this the original name for the Boyle Heights area) vineyard planted by the López family before him, as well as growing fruits in an orchard and raising some field crops. Boyle also operated, as he’d done earlier in San Francisco, a boot and shoe store in downtown. In the years following the Civil War, when greater Los Angeles endured floods, drought, smallpox epidemics and other troubles, the region underwent its first boom, though modest compared to later ones.
Politically, the Democrat got involved in municipal politics later in his life and served a few years on the Los Angeles Common (City) Council and a 1901 biographical sketch, almost certainly provided by family members and, therefore, played up to place Boyle in the best light possible, remarked,
No one was more interested in local development than he, and no one to a greater degree rejoiced in the constant growth of the city and its progress in commerce, horticulture, education and all those things which go to make up the culture and refinement of existence.
Boyle’s only surviving child (a son died as an infant in New Orleans), Maria (1847-1933, her name pronounced Mar-ay-uh) received her education with the Sisters of Charity, a Roman Catholic order of nuns, and, in October 1867, the 20-year old married William Henry Workman (1839-1918). It is said the couple met with Maria was a bride’s maid and he was the best man at a wedding, though she refused a dozen marriage proposals from him before finally accepting.
Workman, the nephew of Homestead founders William Workman and Nicolasa Urioste, was born in central Missouri, where his father, David, settled two decades prior to his birth. David was a merchant with extensive travels in northern México and came to California during the Gold Rush to explore possibilities, which included opening a store in Sacramento that, however, burned to the ground in an 1852 fire that ravaged most of the future state capital.
When visiting his brother, William, on the Rancho La Puente after the disaster, David was implored to bring his family and settle on the ranch. This was done in 1854 with a trip across the plains from Missouri, but, shortly afterward, David was driving livestock to the gold fields for William and was killed by a fall down a cliff when trying to retrieve a stray animal.
His widow, Nancy, and their three sons, including William Henry’s older brothers, Thomas (1832-1863) and Elijah (1835-1906), moved to Los Angeles and settled on Main Street. Thomas went to work for the “Port Admiral” Phineas Banning at Wilmington and was his chief clerk, but was killed in April 1863 with many others in the explosion of a lighter, the Ada Hancock, at the rudimentary port.
Elijah set up a harness and saddle business in town, while William found employment with the Southern Californian newspaper, then joined Thomas at Wilmington and, finally, became part of Elijah’s business, which soon became a partnership as Workman Brothers. The two prospered, especially as the boom set in around the time of the wedding, while the siblings also soon became politically active with service on the board of education as well as the Common Council.
The nuptials took place at the Boyle residence on the bluff (Paredon Blanco meaning “white bluff”) and were conducted by Rev. Francis Mora of the Plaza Church. The Los Angeles News of the 22nd, requesting newspapers in San Francisco, St. Louis and New Orleans to copy the report for family and friends residing in those cities, remarked that “a large assemblage . . . of the respectability and fashion of the city and county met at the mansion,” though the house was not particularly large or ornate.
The account continued that,
After the ceremony music was introduced and dancing kept up with spirit until 12 o’clock P.M. [Midnight], when the guests were invited to a supper that would tempt the appetite of the most fastidious epicure. The health of the bride and groom were drunk and responded to, and when at 3 o’clock in the morning the last of the guests took their departure all felt that they had indeed been at a happy marriage feast.
In September 1868, a boy was born to the couple and named after his grandfather and he was followed just after the dawn of 1871 by a daughter, Mary Julia. The 1870 federal census recorded the Boyle and Workman family residing together at the house on the bluff, adjacent to Francisco “Chico” López, with Boyle giving his occupation as “City Councilman” and reporting the value of his real estate at $35,000 and his personal property at $4,000. Workman, listed as “sadler,” posted a modest $1,500 in land and a more substantial $5,000 in personal holdings.
Though just 52 years old, Boyle, who recently completed his council service, was reported by the News of 13 January 1871, just after the birth of his granddaughter, to be “dangerously ill” while it was added “his health has been failing for some time.” Perhaps he suffered from cancer, though the Los Angeles Star of the 28th informed readers that “we were pleased to meet on the street, yesterday, our old friend . . . who has for some time past been confined to his house and bed by severe illness.”
In its 9 February edition, however, the paper reported “the many friends of Mr. A.A. Boyle, will regret to hear that he is seriously ill at his residence” and added “it is with deep sorrow that we announce the fact that his life is despaired of by the best physicians in he city.” That day, he passed away. On the 10th, the News published a death notice that contained the information that, without explanation about the last portion,
He had long been a citizen of Los Angeles, and at various times occupied positions of honor and trust in the community. Impulsive in disposition, he made many warm friends and also did not fail to secure enemies.
By contrast, the Star offered a more detailed and laudatory obituary and mentioned his 1851 migration to California, residence for seven years in San Francisco “where he acquired a competence,” and then his relocation to the Angel City “to enjoy the result of his labors in early life.” He was noted for his success in winemaking and the “purity and excellence” of his vintages, while, regarding his political career,” the paper commented,
He was for years a member of the City Council, in which he was remarkable for his integrity and conscientious discharge of the office—being conspicuous for his defence [sic] of the rights of the people, and his opposition to everything that was not for the best interests of the community. His demise leaves a void, not only in the family circle, but in the community, which cannot be easily filled up.
The following day’s Star also covered Boyle’s funeral, which took place at the family residence, “and was largely attended by mourning friends and citizens generally, which attested the respect in which the deceased gentleman was held by the members of this community, where he has so long resided.” Graveside services in the Calvary Cemetery at the base of the Elysian Hills, where Cathedral High School is today, but Boyle was reinterred at Evergreen Cemetery and rests in a family plot including his daughter and son-in-law.
Three days before his death, Boyle sold his “interests in certain lands in city and county,” to William H. Workman for not far under $14,000, though why this was, in lieu of what was left in a will to Maria and her husband, is not known. In any case, the Workmans remained in the Boyle house and the Paredon Blanco property flourished under their management, including the vineyard, orchards, expansive gardens and more.
In April 1875, as the boom in Los Angeles was at its peak, Workman; banker Isaias W. Hellman, who held extensive lands in the Paredon Blanco area as well as as throughout the region; and John Lazzarovich, who was married into the López family and managed some of their property to the north of the Boyle portion, formed the Boyle Heights project and began to plan for water distribution and streetcar service to the community, as well as sales of lots.
Just four months later, however, an economic panic was unleashed and, among the casualties was the Los Angeles bank owned by Workman’s uncle, William, and the latter’s son-in-law, F.P.F. Temple. As with other new subdivisions, including at Artesia, Pomona and San Fernando, the resulting financial malaise, which was part of a national Long Depression that continued through the rest of the Seventies, Boyle Heights languished, but was revived by the much larger Boom of the 1880s, which peaked during William H. Workman’s term from December 1886 to December 1888, as mayor of Los Angeles.
Boyle’s namesake grandson Boyle Workman, was his father’s assistant during that term and when William H. was city treasurer from 1901 to 1907, while going on to be on the City Council for several years in the late 1910s and into the 1920s, and was author of a popular 1935 history, The City That Grew.
On 15 December 1870, no doubt because of his illness, Boyle dictated his “Reminiscences of the Texas Revolution,” which was published in three installments in the Star of 25 June, 2 July and 9 July 1871. In his account, Boyle related his enlistment, when he was just 17 years old, from the Irish colony of San Patricio in the revolutionary army of Americans in Texas and his artillery unit was ordered to Goliad, where Boyle remained as other actions, which he detailed, took place involving the movement of revolutionaries and the Mexican army.
While at Goliad, Boyle recalled, “about the 8th or 9th of March, we heard of the fall of the Alamo [Mission, at San Antonio, which took place on the 6th] and the killing of Colonels [Jim] Bowie and [Davy] Crockett and all their men.” On the 17th, which was, of course, the important Irish holiday of St. Patrick’s Day, the Mexican Army deployed across the San Antonio River and the revolutionists sent a party over to skirmish, with Boyle and his fellow soldiers “watching from the ramparts with the most intense anxiety.”
After the Mexican force left the field, it returned the next day, while the Americans decided to march to the northeast intending to join the army of Sam Houston. After the Mexican Army caught up with the revolutionaries some ten miles eastward, Col. James W. Fannin decided to engage the former, but then continued the march toward a timbered area along Coleto Creek. A force of Mexican infantry then overtook the Americans and Boyle stated,
We formed as previously [into a hollow square with wagons and the armament magazine in the center]l our little force then not numbering more than 311 men, maintained the action from half past one o’clock P.M., and fought until near dark, when the enemy retreated, leaving twenty-five of us killed and wounded.
For the second part of the series, Boyle reported that he was shot in the leg about two hours in to the battle, but he stated that the worst took place after the Mexicans left and there was a lack of water “from which the wounded especially suffered severely.” Overnight, Boyle laid next to Col. Fannin, who offered the young man his good leg for a pillow.
When the Mexicans returned the following morning, they were reinforced with artillery from Gen. Antonio López de Santa Anna, one of the most famous figures in his country. After some desultory firing, which had no practical effect, a white flag was raised by the Mexicans and the revolutionaries, realizing there was no hope otherwise, decided to surrender. Articles were signed, including that the Americans were to abandon their weapons and remain as prisoners of war until exchanged or released on condition of returning to the United States.
The able-bodied Americans marched to Goliad, while the wounded, like Boyle, waited a few days for carts to convey them and he observed that “our sufferings were intense, on account of the heat of the sun, thirst, and want of medical attendance.” When they reached Goliad, the wounded went into a hospital, while the other captives were placed under guard in the yard of the fort. He then recalled,
Just one week after the surrender, all the unwounded men were marched out of the fort in separate divisions, and shot. Soon after, a Mexican officer came into the hospital, and ordered me to tell all those able to walk to go outside . . . In the meantime, four Mexican soldiers came in and began to carry out those who were too severely wounded to walk. I was assisted by two comrades who were but slightly wounded. As we passed through the door, an officer told me were all to be shot. This I told the men.
The wounded were placed in a corner of the yard by a church door and two men were ordered to lie down, after being blindfolded, and were shot in the head at close range. Then, an officer appeared “and asked, in a loud voice, in English, whether any one named Boyle was there or not.” When an affirmative came, Boyle was taken back into the hospital for further treatment of his injury, with the officer stating he would speak to him shortly.
Before Boyle’s eyes, another American wounded prisoner, conveyed outside the hospital and visible through the door, was killed, while he related that another force of revolutionaries were captured and executed, with more than 400 such soldiers and officers killed, according to Boyle. A few hours after the other prisoner was shot, the account went on,
the officer who had asked for me in the yard came into the hospital. Addressing me in English, he said: “Make your mind easy, sir; your life is spared.” I asked if I might inquire “the name of the person to whom I was indebted for my life.” “Certainly,” said he, “my name is General Francisco Garay, second in command of [Gen. Jose de] Urrea’s division.” He had taken my name and description from my sister, at whose house he had been quartered while his division occupied San Patricio, and by whom and my brother he had been kindly treated. She and my brother had refused all remuneration from him, only asking that if I should ever fall into his hands I should be kindly treated.
Gen. Garay then told Boyle that he was leaving to join Gen. de Urrea, but told the garrison commander at Goliad “to furnish me a passport whenever I should call for it.” Part three began with the recollection that Boyle returned to San Patricio. On 21 April, he learned, the Battle of San Jacinto, fought just outside modern Houston, was on by Gen. Houston and the Americans, including the capture of Gen. Santa Anna, with an American war cry being “Remember the Alamo! Remember Goliad!” though Boyle remembered this as “Alamo and Fannin!”
As Gen. Garay retreated toward México south of the Rio Grande, he passed through San Patricio and, as requested by him as still being a prisoner, Boyle accompanied him to Matamoros, where he was told that he could not remain in Texas. While the officer asked Boyle to go to México City with him and that he would do so as a free man and with “the most profuse offers to friendship and assistance,” this was refused “on account of my anxiety to see my relatives in the United States.”
Boyle, however, had difficulty getting permission to leave Matamoros, so he presented as the son of an Irishman headed for New Orleans and, with a passport under that pretense, was able to take passage across the Gulf of México to the Crescent City. He sought out the Texas consul, but was only able to get a free ride to Texas, though “being out of money and in rags, I was compelled to seek employment” and worked for 11 days as a painter. He then took passage to Texas, landing at the Brazos River where it empties into the Gulf, southwest of Houston.
After securing a letter of introduction from interim President David G. Burnet at Velasco, part of Freeport, Boyle walked 150 miles in five days to get to a camp commanded by Gen. Thomas J. Rusk at Victoria, along the Guadalupe River west of Freeport. While it was thought a Mexican Army would arrive to fight with Rusk’s forces, the general “excused me, on account of my impaired health, from further service in the army,” this apparently being “a severe attack of fever and ague.” The account concluded with the remark that,
As soon as I recovered, I went to [West] Columbia, then the Seat of government [actually, where the first Congress of the Republic of Texas convened in October 1836] and obtained a passport to New Orleans.
While the first part of this post essayed some of Boyle’s life in the Crescent City and his coming to California in 1851, a 1902 by Henry D. Barrows and appearing in the annual publication of the Historical Society of Southern California recorded that “Mr. Boyle made the acquaintance of Don Mateo [Mathew] Keller,” also of Ireland, “in Texas and at Vera Cruz, Mexico, whither both went on trading expeditions in the early 40’s.”
Barrows continued that “it was through the influence of Mr. Keller that Mr. Boyle was induced to sell out his interests in San Francisco and come to Los Angeles.” The naming of Keller’s son, Henry Workman, was a reflection of these close ties. The writer remembered enjoyable visits to the Boyle residence at Paredon Blanco and recalled that Boyle “was of a very genial, social nature.”
We’ll look for other ways to commemorate the 150th anniversary of Boyle Heights with posts on this blog, so keep an eye out for those.
As recently the stories about Tres Hermanos Ranch and Boyle Heights were posted alternatively one after another, I was able to notice that there are some striking similarities as below between the key figures behind these two places – Harry Chandler and William H. Workman:
1. Both came from other states to settle in Los Angeles as young newcomers.
2. Both gained wealth through marriage, inheriting from their father-in-law substantial resources – land, networks, political connections, and in Chandler’s case, even a media empire.
3. Both developed land in partnership with two other prominent figures: Chandler with William Scott and William Rowland, and Workman with Isaias Hellman and John Lazzarovich.
4. Both wore two hats – running diversified businesses while also serving in civic roles.
5. Both of their developments were visionary, yet also self-interested, blending public benefit with personal benefits.
6. Both skillfully used inside knowledge, political access, and political connections to advance their private gains.
7. Both left enduring legacies in the Los Angeles region through their family names, institutions, and historical footprints.
I personally think both Harry Chandler and William H. Workman set a remarkable example for political figures. They made truly significant contributions to Los Angeles and to the public, and I personally don’t mind to see that they also benefited themselves in the process. What I find far more frustrating are those so-called “ethical” or “clean” officials who waste taxpayers’ money and public resources while accomplishing nothing. In other words, an incapable but “clean” politician can be far more harmful than a capable one with some moral stains.
If there is no documented explanation for why Andrew Boyle sold part of his land to his son-in-law, William H. Workman, for about $14,000 only four days prior to his death, various possibilities and wild guesses can be imagined.
I don’t know the exact size of the land involved, nor whether the sale price was above or below market value. However, if the price was on the higher side, it might make sense to assume that Boyle’s intention was to raise the appraised value of his remaining properties. This could enhance their overall estate value, especially considering that Boyle was likely land-rich but cash-poor at the time.