No Place Like Home: A Photo of Gould’s Folly, The Castle of La Crescenta, ca. 1908, Part Three

by Paul R. Spitzzeri

As the 19th century came to a close and the 20th dawned, the cement, stone and wood castle built in 1891-1892 on an eminence in the newly founded community of La Crescenta, a little more than ten miles north of Los Angeles, was, despite being under a decade old, largely abandoned, missing many elements and looking as if would soon succumb to total destruction.

Its builders, May Briggs and husband Eugene Gould, battered by financial issues that were hardly uncommon in the 1890s, during which there was a severe national depression and, regionally, several years of drought wreaking havoc on agriculture, the backbone of the economy, moved to Los Angeles.

Moreover, they’d amassed a significant amount of debt, borrowing a very large sum from Emilie Gibbons Cohen, a wealthy widow from the Bay Area, who pursued legal action to take full control of The Castle, as the dwelling was known, and its surrounding acreage. Apparently, a significant reason for the debt was Eugene’s plowing of large sums into mining at Randsburg in Kern County, northeast of the Angel City, but there was more to the matter.

Yet, the 24 June 1900 issue of the Los Angeles Times in a lengthy article that was likely a double feature to advertise, as well, on the Red Cloud Mine, east of the Salton Sea and south of today’s Interstate 10 in Riverside County, informed readers that, “the management of these great properties on the ground is in the hands of Mr. Eugene H. Gould, a man of State reputation for his finesse in business matters, of wide scope, and practical resources.”

Fifteen months later, through, the 13 September 1901 edition of the Los Angeles Record recorded that,

One of the heaviest petitions in bankruptcy ever filed in this district is that of Eugene H. Gould, which was docketed in the United States district court shortly before noon today.

His debts aggregate $176,488.26 and there is left for the creditors $8.65 [which Gould had in his pockets at the time].

The bankrupt’s heaviest creditor is Emil G. Cohn [sic], a resident of Alameda, who has offices in San Francisco. There is due Cohn over $120,000 . . .

The article remarked that Emilie Cohen possessed Gould’s accounts, books and papers and that there were a half-dozen other creditors, including two San Francisco banks and the remainder Los Angeles individuals. It was noted that he had a Fresno County ranch, but this was under mortgage, while his attorney cited the failure of a fruit drying and raising company in that area which “forced its losses” upon his client” and that Gould “has made every endeavor to meet the debts of the concern,” but was unable to do so.

While bankruptcy resulted, Cohen, whose February 1899 foreclosure resulted in her taking possession of the property, spent years on other legal wrangling related to The Castle tract with respect to its water rights, claiming that more than $110,000 worth of the precious fluid was taken by those residing to her north in the foothills of the San Gabriel Mountains and drawing from Snover Canyon, a short distance to the east in what is La Cañada-Flintridge.

In its coverage of the suit, in which Superior Court Judge Walter Bordwell granted Cohen a certain number of inches of water for the 40 acres on which The Castle sat, the Los Angeles Express of 4 October 1905 commented,

An immense building of stone and wood was built by a wealthy Mrs. Gould [note again that credit was given to May for the structure, which one source stated cost $65,000] in a tract extending for about two miles across the lower part of the canyon, and water was piped there in 1892. It was about an inch and a half [which is what Judge Bordwell allotted Cohen], but in dry seasons [note the drought reference above] it gave out, and the place, known as “Gould’s Folly,” was allowed to go to waste.

The new owner and her family remained owners of The Castle for about 30 years. Emilie Gibbons was born in 1824 at Wilmington, Delaware to a Quaker family with her father, a doctor and intellectual, moving the family to Philadelphia when she was 20 years old. Following his brothers, Henry Gibbons migrated to Gold Rush San Francisco, where he not only continued his medical practice, but headed the state Board of Health was a founder of a library and an Academy of Sciences and a medical society, as well as Cooper Medical College.

In 1854, she married Alfred Andrew Cohen, who was born in London in 1829 and was of Jewish ancestry (including in 17th century Germany and then Amsterdam), with his father, uncle and grandfather coffee plantation owners in Jamaica. When Alfred was a child and after his father Andrew returned to London, the British Parliament passed a slavery abolition act and the Cohen family, using slaves on their properties, were reimbursed with a large sum through a loan to the government made by renowned Jewish banker Nathan Rothschild. Alfred, who worked in a law office when young and absorbed some knowledge of the field, spent a short time in Montreal, then briefly resided in Jamaica, but, hearing of the Gold Rush, migrated to California, living first in Sacramento, where he ran a commission mercantile business with a brother, and then San Francisco.

Alfred was a grain and produce broker when, shortly after his marriage to Emilie Gibbons, he was selected as a receiver for the failed banking firm of Adams and Company, but was accused of illicit practices in that role, though he was acquitted after a half-year in jail, during which he studied the law. In 1856, as San Francisco was embroiled in the “Second Vigilance Committee” turmoil in which law and order was turned upside down amid political upheavals, the Cohens moved across the Bay to Alameda and established their Fernside estate, including a sprawling 70-room mansion and grounds on which Alfred farmed.

In 1863, Alfred and others formed the San Francisco and Alameda Railroad, a competitor of the San Francisco and Oakland Railroad established earlier by Emilie’s uncle, Rodman Gibbons. When the latter got into financial trouble a couple of years later, Alfred took it over and merged the two firms. As the transcontinental railroad line was nearing completion, the Central Pacific, which built the western portion, acquired the local ferry business, even after a major earthquake in 1868 caused its failure. In the acquisition, Cohen was hired as a lawyer for the Central Pacific, though that relationship ended in acrimony after several years.

Alfred died in 1887, leaving Emilie a substantial estate, including Fernside, which, though, was consumed in a fire a decade later. A son’s residence, the Cohen-Bray House, completed in 1884, still stands in Alameda. How Emilie Cohen came to loan such large amounts to Eugene Gould is unknown, though it may stem from relationships forged when Gould’s father was a well-known figure in Santa Clara at the south end of the Bay Area, specifically as Alfred Cohen sought to build a rail line from Oakland and Alameda to San José.

It is also unclear if Cohen and her family ever spent much time at The Castle during their long tenure as owners. Its foothill location made it vulnerable to wildfires in the adjoining mountains, such as in September 1908, this being the year when the two photos in the Museum’s holdings featured in this post were created, when the Los Angeles Herald of the 11th noted that a brush fire consumed 13 square miles of land in the area, destroying three houses.

The paper noted that the heroic efforts of residents kept the flames, started by a Glendale man who had a permit to burn brush on his land, “from laying low the town of La Crescenta, the old Gould Castle,” though it was under 20 years of age, “and the $8000 mansion owned by Samuel Merrill.” It was added that “for a time it appeared the old Gould Castle was doomed, but fortunately the fire burned itself out in that direction before it reached the famous structure.”

As was the case in the late 19th century, when hiking and picnic parties roamed the edifice and grounds, this was done in the Cohen era, though the rise of the automobile meant a different means of conveyance to The Castle. The 10 June 1911 number of the Express featured just such a trip made by Columbia and Maxwell cars as its participants explored the “ivy-covered ruins” of the structure.

The paper highlighted another auto tour, this time using a Studebaker “30,” meaning that the engine produced that much horsepower, and its 12 October 1912 article reported that though the area was “long known as one of the most beautiful stretches of foothill country in Southern California,” the section embracing “La Crescenta and La Canada has remained undeveloped through [a] lack of transportation facilities.” The new “La Canada Boulevard,” meaning Foothill, meant a great change was afoot, and L.E. Kimball piloted his car on a trip, with the Express remarking,

It was proposed to make the trip to La Crescenta “castle” to see if the automobile had played the part of fairy prince and awakened that romantic building from a slumber of 15 years.

A copy of a Swiss castle and a truly beautiful piece of architecture it has been untenanted ever since passing in the hands of the original owner to E.G. Cohan [sic] of San Francisco . . .

Arriving at the castle grounds, it was found that they have been closed to the public. Special permission was secured, however, after some difficulty, and the Studebaker was driven inside. The grounds showed the same signs of progress that were evident elsewhere through the valley. Long the picture of neglect, they are now neatly kept, and it would be hard to imagine anything more beautiful than the vine-hung arches and towers of stone, and the castle courtyard with the fountain playing in its midst.

Valley, hills and far-off city combine to form a view from the castle that is one of the most beautiful and picturesque to be found in Southern California. If the castle grounds were to be opened to the public again, it would be sure to become one of the most popular of nearby trips that Los Angeles automobilists could make.

With regular tenants, The Castle looks to have been well-maintained in succeeding years, though a 1948 article about it said it was uninhabited until 1920 when two families in the Carpenter clan moved in. In the late 20s and into the Depression years, it was rented as a summer home by artist Eugene Franquinet. In 1924, Emilie Cohen died and her heirs continued ownership for a short period—in summer 1927, there were advertisements for “a castle on a Hill” in La Crescenta, “all stone construction” on an acre lot with “a wonderful view,” to be had for $25,000, this possibly being The Castle.

As for the Goulds, they lived in Glendale when the 1910 census was taken and Eugene’s occupation was listed as “gold miner,” as he pursued a revived fortune. A decade later, the couple lived in Orcutt in San Luis Obispo County, where he ran a store for an oil company. In late September 1929, just before the crash of the stock market in New York City that ushered in the Great Depression, Eugene died at age 72. May followed not quite a year later, on 1 August 1930, at 74. An obituary in the Northeast News-Herald, in the Highland Park area of Los Angeles where she last resided, stated,

Mrs. May Isabel Gould, pioneer California resident and one of the first settlers in the Verdugo Valley north of Glendale . . .

She came to Southern California in 1878 with her uncle, Dr. George Briggs, and they built the home for themselves now known as Gould Castle at La Crescenta. It is the oldest building in the Verdugo Valley and is now partially in ruins. It was designed by Mrs. Gould.

Aside from the fact that the “first settlers” in the La Crescenta area were indigenous people many generations ago, the article erred regarding her settling in the area, which was not until after her father, George, who was not a doctor died in 1885. Instead, the physician was her uncle Benjamin and The Castle was not built with him, but with her husband, Eugene, though it is the case that she designed the unusual edifice. It is also notable that the house again was in some state of disrepair as the Depression began.

The Homestead’s interpretive era ends at 1930, but there are some interesting references to The Castle in subsequent years, including the 1948 article referred to above, from the New Year’s Eve edition of the Pasadena Star-News. The piece recorded that a Dr. W.L. Haworth (Walter L. Haworth, who lived full-time in Los Angeles) owned the residence and reviewed some the history, including May’s supervision of the construction and its basis on Spanish castles. Also mentioned were the use of granite from local boulders, with Chinese labor utilized, while it was asserted that,

A show place of the 90’s, sightseers came from all points to view the castle, tally-hos [carriages] coming from the Pasadena hotels. In a period when lavish furnishings was [sic] the order of the day, the castle was famous. Marble columns, draperies imported from abroad, [and] ornate appointments drew distinguished visitors who were entertained at sumptuous parties.

The “ancient castle” was highlighted in a Star-News feature from 11 November 1953 and Pauline Collier wrote that B.G. Haworth and wife (this was Basil, Walter’s brother, who was residing in the dwelling with his family in the 1950 census) were “living in an old Spanish castle with all of the modern conveniences” and that “the old-world building needs only a moat and drawbridge to make it an exact replica of the picturesque castles of Europe.” As for mystery and legend, it was recorded that Eugene Gould was a “raisin king of the 80s,” though this actually was May’s father, George” while it was added that the 185-acre property was to be “the site for a winter home.”

Collier continued that May wanted a structure such as she had seen in Spain and “with money no object, her husband did his best to please her.” There was some substantial detail in the article concerning the layout, with living areas and bedrooms divided by a large patio and connected by archways. The eastern section’s large hall had marble pillars and substantial arched windows and contained the dining room, kitchen, employees’ quarters, and cellars, while a large veranda at the front was “commanding a breath-taking view of the entire valley.”

The use of Chinese labor and a cable car system for transporting materials were discussed, as was the means for bringing water from the adjoining canyon. The legends included the issues with the floors and roof with her demand that there be no vents (because the castles in Spain lacked them), so the wood floors were laid almost on the soil and rotted after a few rainy seasons. Because of this and a problem with rattlesnakes, “the floors were torn out and for many years . . . the castle floors were just dirt.” With respect to the roof, Collier commented that “the Goulds had to construct three roofs before they found one that didn’t leak.”

Some of the 1948 text was recycled with respect to The Castle’s glory days and the Gould loss of the property, though it was added that the footprints of the three children, Dorothy, Theodore and Winston, remained. The piece ended with the briefest of summaries of its recent history:

The castle passed through a succession of owners, much of the property was subdivided, fire destroyed the cottage, but the old landmark still stands—a romantic spot, watching the world go by from its lofty perch . . .

In early March 1955, the Haworths hosted their daughter’s wedding at their residence, said to be in La Cañada, though, the following year, they were residing in the Linda Vista section of Pasadena. Though nothing could be located in press accounts, Crescenta Valley historian Mike Lawler records that “in 1955, [The Castle] was demolished, the rock pushed into an adjoining canyon,” with it added that “the empty site of the castle is an undeveloped flat spot on the hill above the end of Canalda Drive,” though a 1950s address for the Castle was 5500 Ocean View, a short distance to the north in what is within the city of La Cañada-Flintridge.

While it only existed a little more than six decades and was frequently unoccupied, in poor condition or in ruins, The Castle was a notable and significant landmark in the Crescenta Valley, though also reflective of excess and overreach, hence the term “Gould’s Folly.” It is perhaps, however, a precursor to the Homestead’s own, La Casa Nueva, a lavish mansion which was only occupied by the Temple family for a couple of years before it was lost—fortunately, this latter is still very much with us a century after its completion.