by Paul R. Spitzzeri
A major local event celebrating America’s 250th birthday (note that a new Cato Institute poll records that 46% of those taking part do not know what the commemoration is for) takes place at the Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum, where one of a series of events across the country under the banner of America’s Block Party will be held on the 4th and feature concerts by such famous artists as Chaka Khan and The Smashing Pumpkins, as well as fireworks, a drone show and a Block Party Village with food, drinks, games and more—all for a patriotic price of $17.76 with proceeds going to charity.
Back in 1876, as the nation marked its centennial, including with an exposition in Philadelphia that lasted much of the year, Angelenos held a very different kind of celebration, but one just as much about community as this year’s festivities. The Los Angeles Star, after taking a day off as a holiday, returned on 6 July with a lengthy summation of the event, beginning its coverage with:
The patriotism of the people of Los Angeles found a most fitting expression in the ceremonies of yesterday. We doubt if love of country and gratitude for the blessings which we enjoy under our system of government had anywhere, in all the broad area of the American Union, a more imposing or heartfelt demonstration, all things being relatively considered, than here in our young and beautiful city.
The piece added that planning was underway for quite a while, but residents were unaware of how much work was put in “or how perfectly success had characterized the efforts of the various committees.” What was clear was that “the public spirit of our fellow citizens was made manifest by the beauty of the private decorations of stores, hotels and residences,” covering, apparently, some two-thirds of the city.
The city’s main thoroughfare, Main Street, was particularly well-coiffed for the festivities and one of the few surviving structures from the era was highlighted, as the paper recounted,
The Pico House [hotel] led the van in the extent and elegance of adornment. In front of the building the proprietors had erected a column about forty feet high, surmounted by a flag staff bearing a liberty cap. On the four sides of the column were the following legends. “1776. 1876. Now for 1976.” “To the patrons of the Pico House, may you live 100 years,” “No North, no South, no East, no West. A Fourth of July for all.” “Independence Day. A welcome to all our guests.” The entire front of the building was most gracefully festooned with wreaths of evergreens and long lines of miniature flags of the Union and of all nations.
Other edifices named for their decorative endeavors were “the Oriental buildings,” meaning a restaurant of that name, “noticeable for their fine display,” the Fashion Stables, Colonel Woods’ Opera House, and “Abbott’s Theatre,” which was the Merced Theatre adjacent to the Pico and which structure is still with us. Also highlighted was the Grand Central Hotel, a new edifice on the east side of Main that was soon to be neighbor to the palatial Baker Block, where U.S. 101 runs through the area now, and which was razed in 1957.
The hostelry was praised for “the unique and exceedingly attractive manner” its operators decorated the structure as their “contribution to the beautiful picture which the city presented.” The Star continued that,
Thousands of flags streamed and fluttered on the front of the building, while from the roof of the building to the ground depended [?] a number of ropes wrapped with the national colors, which had the appearance of storm stays [used to prop up ship sails in bad weather] and made the whole edifice look like a splendid ship crowding the waters under a press of parti-colored canvass.
Just south was the St. Charles Hotel, formerly the Bella Union, one of the early such businesses in town and whose proprietors “spared neither pains nor expense in decorating their popular hostelrie [sic].” These included “starry banners . . . arranged in squares and triangles and other fanciful forms” and positioned “with such exceeding good taste that one could wish the handsome picture could remain a permanent institution.”
Across Main at the Lafayette Hotel, the focus was on the large front balcony, at which was a life-size representation of George Washington “encircled by flags and evergreens” as well as “other appliances of the decorative art” that provided “a very pleasing effect.” The Farmers’ and Merchants’ Bank, the City of Paris store, Charles Ducommun’s building, the Commercial Bank and others were also mentioned, while “the Fashion Saloon was embowered in a perfect wealth of evergreens” and “innumerable flags and lanterns flashing and glowing amid the verdure.”
Yet another caravansary, the United States Hotel, owned by the partnership of Hammel and Denker, observed how that enterprise because “a suburban picnic ground” as “two or three hundred forest trees, more or less” were “adorned with flags or streamers” and “made up a cool, refreshing picture which was by no means the least noticeable part of the general display.”
French consul Jacob Morenhaut’s “handsome residence and beautiful grounds . . . presented a delightful picture” as the flag of France was “in harmonious juxtaposition” with Old Glory and a banner over the entry read “friends since one hundred years,” referring to the assistance given by the French to the American revolutionary effort.
The Southern Pacific Railroad, which had a near monopoly (and soon would with its acquisition of the Los Angeles and Independence, the train of which was “handsomely decked with patriotic colors” while its depot was “in gala attire”) in local railroading, got involved and “the depot was handsomely decorated and the trains were rigged out in a holiday suit. The one from Wilmington and the harbor was “most beautifully adorned with flags and garlands of flowers” as it carried up to 400 passengers in for the celebration, while “the engine of the Anaheim [via Florence in south Los Angeles] train was a marvel of the decorative art and looked a perfect beauty.”
The firm of Lehman and Company, specializing in carpets, as well as in oil cloth, upholstery and wallpaper in their store in the Downey Block, was hired to undertake public decor and the firm was credited for “having faithfully and successfully carried out their important trust,” of which “the prominent feature is the noble triple arch which spans Main street.”
This was 30 feet wide and high, with side elements of 17 feet width and 20 feet height as well containing columns, on which the two main ones were statues of Washington and current president, Ulysses S. Grant, while atop the arch was Columbia, the female personification of the nation. Two smaller columns had images of Revolutionary War and Civil War Union Army soldiers, while eagles were on the arch sides and below Columbia was the California coat-of-arms and text on the arch read “1776. One Hundred years ago. 1876.”
Shields with the names of the American states along with heroes of the Revolution, as well as flags and evergreen garlands, were observed, as well. The paper remarked that “the arch was the subject of universal comments,” while Lehman and Company also placed wires across the town’s main streets on which were flags, streamers and wreaths.
The 38s volunteer fire company installed a triple arch in front of the Spring Street station house, with a firefighter figure holding a trumpet on the keystone. Laurel wreathed a rendering of Washington, while “The Centennial” and “Thirty-Eight Fire Company” were placed with flags and shields “bearing familiar historical names.” The arch was accounted “a noble tribute to the spirit of the boys of the 38s.”
On Main Street, the other volunteer firefighting unit, the Confidence, “erected a bower of arches in front of their building . . . which is a gem in its way.” On lines running across the street, the volunteers placed evergreens and wreaths and hung a flag of 40-foot length and width. It was commented that, while the two companies wanted their decorations to be considered part of the public presentation, the costs was undertaken by the members. It was concluded, “their contributions to the success of the Centennial Fourth entitles them still further, if such a thing could be, to the respect and good will of our citizens.”
As for the citizenry flowing into town to see the parade, the Star observed,
There were crowds of people coming into the city, by car and carriage, buggy and wagon. They were coming on horseback and a-foot and they continued to come. There were representatives by the score from all parts of the county. Tustin City, Richland [Orange], Anaheim, Wilmington, Santa Monica, San Fernando, Spadra [Pomona]—from all the four quarters of the compass, they came and saw, rejoiced with us, were made welcome with us, and we trust and believe went home, well pleased with us. The streets were crowded at an early hour. Every window along the line of march was crowded, every balcony had its throng of eager lookers on. There never was such a crowd in the city before. With one or two trifling exceptions everybody was on good behavior.
The divisions and route of the parade were elucidated in part three of this post, but some of the details include the note that Grand Marshal Henry M. Mitchell was attended by aides, all lawyers, Henry M. Smith, Erskine Ross (later a federal judge of note), Jackson Graves (whose 1927 memoir is an interesting chronicle) and Frank H. Howard. The first division’s “magnificent car” conveying Carrie Cohn as the Goddess of Liberty and joined by Peace (Lulu Lehman) and Plenty (Ally Carpenter).
Among the veterans of the Mexican-American War were George Stoneman, a Union Army general in the Civil War, Dr. John S. Griffin, an Army surgeon, Sheriff David W. Alexander, surveyor and attorney Henry Hancock (namesake of the Hancock Park neighborhood), and former mayor Stephen C. Foster. The French Benevolent Society offered a “splendid display made by our patriotic French citizens” in the form of “a triumphal chariot, elegantly adorned” and conveying another Goddess of Liberty (Mary Lache), a representation of France (Blanche Crowley) and one of the United States (Leonie Dupuytren) whose “costumes were elegant and appropriate” and who “constituted a very charming trio.”
A car from the Confidence car company was also deemed a highlight, as it had “an ornamental canopy” under which were seven persons, including Hattie Furman as Columbia, her sister Mamie as Uncle Sam, Henry Dockweiler, Jr. as a firefighter lying on a coiled length of firehose, William Gard as a 38s representative and Isidore Dockweiler, who went to be a very prominent Angeleno, as a Confidence firefighter. Not mentioned before was a third volunteer fire company, that of Wilmington, which “made a manly feature in the procession.”
In the third division “was a car containing thirteen young misses representing the original Colonies,” while the fourth had one with “thirty-eight young ladies, representing the states of the Union.” When it came to an entry of the fraternal Improved Order of Red Men, it was noted that one was dressed as Captain Jack of the Modoc Indians and who “contributed not a little to the hilarity of the occasion.” Yet, just a few years prior, the Modoc War, involving up to 60 warriors of this tribe from northern California and southern Oregon against about 1,000 Army troops, was hardly a laughing matter.
As for tradespeople, there was representation from the butchers’ association, the Philadelphia Brewery and wagon makers Page and Gravel, who were commended for entering “an immense van in which a dozen or more artisans were plying the different branches of wagon making and blacksmithing.” Through this, the paper went on, the duo “never do anything by halves and they made the most of their opportunity” including having, on the side of their vehicle, “a handsome picture representing Washington and other revolutionary worthies welding,” like blacksmiths, “the links of the Union chain.” Further, the firm added a remark:
He who encourages home industry is a public benefactor. Mechanics—the foundation of civilization and progress. The American mechanic—the strength of the Union, the symbol of patriotism and the bone and sinew of the nation.
Others in the trades participating included the Asbestine Stone Company, a windmill dealer, a butcher, a cooper, a Grange (farm organization) store, a laundry, a hardware store, a fruit dealer, the Los Angeles Soap Company, merchants Dotter and Bradley, the Los Angeles Broom Factory and its centennial product, a coffee maker and sewing machine dealers. Lastly, there were residents on horse and in carriages in what was deemed “the most magnificent pageant that Los Angeles has ever witnessed.
The literary exercises were conducted at the Round House of George Lehman, a noted eccentric whose fanciful Garden of Eden was noted for its religious representations and where all 1,500 seats were full while hundreds stood through the proceedings. The Opera House Band played “Columbia” and the day’s president, “Port Admiral” Phineas Banning “delivered a short address replete with patriotic sentiments.”
A combined male choir from various groups in the city sang “America” before Thomas A. Saxon, a well-known schoolteacher, read the Declaration of Independence with the Star commenting, “the performance of which is a somewhat ungracious task,” but Saxon’s “fine elocutionary powers were brought out.” Another choral piece was given following by journalist James J. Ayers offering a “Centennial Poem,” of which we provide a sample:
Awake, my Muse! send forth thy latent fire,
To sing a paean to our country’s name—
Let lofty thoughts thy swelling notes inspire,
And flowing verse exalt her matchless fame.
Time, in his ceaseless march, has ushered in
The year Centennial of our Nation’s life;
And here, with bounding hopes, we now begin
To grapple with the new-born cycle’s strife.
The record of an hundred years was made;
And, though with faults and errors it may teem,
Before its dazzling glories these will fade,
As clouds disperse before Aurora’s beam . . .
One hundred years, summed in a nation’s life
Form but the childhood torn—the tender age—
When, with disease and heedless error rife,
The COMING MAN gropes through his infant stage . . .
Freedom is ours in trust—oh, priceless trust!
To guard with hearts that beat the Godward side—
With souls that feel the impulse of the Just,
And rising swell to Honor’s manly pride! . . .
Out from thy pregnant womb, oh, Time! bring forth
Men equal to our country’s future needs.
With faces skyward, hearts of purest worth,
And iron nerves strung to the bravest deeds.
With these we’ll bid defiance to the woes
That Fate may launch against our hallowed land—
Unyielding breasts will brave our open foes,
And Honor’s foot on prostrate Baseness stand.
With these ringing words of Centennial pride, we’ll return tomorrow to continue our look at the Ange City’s Independence Day celebration, so be sure to check back with us then.