by Paul R. Spitzzeri
As the 1850s drew to a close, a pair of notable references to the old Calvary Cemetery, lying at the base of the Elysian Hills below Dodger Stadium and where Cathedral High School is today with the 110 Freeway running between them, appeared in the Los Angeles Star. The first, from the 28 January 1860 edition, was headed “The City of the Dead” and began with a common lament when it came to cemeteries, “it is generally admitted that a place of decent sepulture should be provided in each community, for the necessities of its people; and yet few will say that proper attention is given this subject amongst us” while it was added “it seems as if we thought any place good enough for the last resting place of poor humanity.”
The problem was with the City, or Protestant, Cemetery, of which the paper noted that “on a barren hill-top, or in the open plain, bodies are interred, with apparently little care whether it remain sacred to that purpose or not.” This location, where the Ramón C. Cortines School of Visual and Performing Arts is now, lacked any fencing to prohibit the entry of animals, including “prowling beasts of prey,” while “the sacred mounds are trodden over and defaced,” tombstones falling or knocked down, so that “in visiting the city of our dead [this a pronounced bias as there were the two other cemeteries, including the Jewish one near Calvary], the mind is painfully impressed with its lonely, dreary desolation.”
The Star insisted that something should be done to provide a proper enclosure for the City/Protestant Cemetery and observed,
Even the Catholic Cemetery, to which some attention has been given, is unsuited to the necessities of the community. It is small and of course sadly over crowded [a little over 15 years after its founding]—a fact which made itself painfully apparent on a recent melancholy occasion—the reeking odor causing many to leave the grounds ere the conclusion of the sad ceremonies. The walls enclosing it are in a dilapidated condition, fast crumbing away.
The Rev. Blas Raho was aware of the defects at Calvary, but, remarked the paper, “having already disbursed thousands of dollars in buildings, he finds himself unable to do anything to forward certain improvements which he has projected.” The account continued that “land has been procured adjoining the present graveyard, in front and rear,” but it was suggested that the existing walls, made of adobe, be razed “and the whole enclosed with a substantial brick wall.” One idea was to subdivide the additional property into lots with sales to cover the cost of the new fences, especially “if people are desirous of having a suitable burial place,” and the priest was said to have ready a subscription book.
Moreover, it was recommended,
A chapel should be erected on the ground, for the reception of bodies awaiting interment, and a sexton’s house [caretaker’s cottage] might be added. By this means, the object desired could be accomplished, secluded burial made possible, and greater space afforded for the general wants of the community. We bring the matter before the public, for their attentive consideration and judicious action.
Los Angeles, however, was mired in an economic downturn that followed the end of the Gold Rush, during which the cattle industry provided financial boons to local ranchers, as well as the lingering effects of the national depression of 1857 and the situation would considerably worsen with massive flooding in 1861-1862 (our upcoming Super El Niño may well bring record rainfall this winter) followed by two years of devastating drought. It appears none of the projected improvements was undertaken at Calvary, but, as we’ll see below, something was finally done at the City/Protestant.
Four months later, a letter writer subscribed as “Jake” wrote of a ramble through Los Angeles, appearing in the 5 May number of the Star during which he headed north of the center of town at the Plaza and, “after a few minutes’ walk . . . we are at the Catholic Cemetery,” where the account went on,
Going in, we spend a half hour looking at the different graves—now putting our doubtful Spanish into requisition, reading some name or deciphering an epitaph, and then again admiring the taste with which some of the graves are adorned. Here a young pine is shooting vigorously from the grave of a child, drawing its nutriment from the ashes of youth, beauty and innocence. A little further on is a finely ornamented tomb, over the head piece of which someone had placed[d] a wreath of the green herbage which grows around . . . it seemed like sacrilege to touch that which the holy hand of friendship had placed there.
In the midst of the punishing drought, the Los Angeles News, which made its debut in 1860 after the demise of the Spanish-language El Clamor Público, and which was clearly run by Protestants, wrote, in its issue of 27 March 1863, of “The Cemetery” as if there was just the City/Protestant one, but announced to its readers that “the work of enclosing the City Cemetery progresses finally, and will be completed in good season,” though it hastened to add that completion was dependent on “if there are sufficient funds.”
Hoping that “such a work will not be permitted to languish for the want of a few paltry dimes,” the sheet commented that lumber for the fence was at the rudimentary port at San Pedro awaiting transport to town. It was added that “our graveyard has been heretofore a public disgrace” and prior efforts to suitably enclose it were hampered because “the almighty dollar stood in the way, and hardened men’s heart and closed their ears to all appeals.” This meant that “the exposed and neglected condition of the American or Protestant burying ground was alike a stain upon the city and the American portion of its population” and the News noted,
The Catholic Cemetery was enclosed by an adobe wall, and the Jewish by a substantial rick wall, but the City Cemetery lay open and unprotected upon the hills in the rear [west] of the town . . . [work on the fence] should not be suffered to stop until the structure is complete.
The families and friends of those interred at the cemetery had “an additional incentive to aid in the work of erecting a substantial enclosure around the graves of those they loved in life, and who memory they cherish in death.” The paper informed its readers that there was “desecration of the graves by some creatures in the form of men,” with individual palings removed “probably for fire-wood” including those for Caroline Leck, recently murdered, which were consumed on the gravesite.
In a jeremiad that would well apply to the Calvary, especially in later years, not to mention some more secluded burial grounds in our day, the News thundered, before remarking that it was a criminal offense “to mar or disfigure any grave-stone, fence or ornament of any kind surrounding a burial place” and offering a desire “to see some of the miscreants caught and made to suffer the extreme penalty of the law”:
It seems almost incredible that such vandals can exist in this community; creatures utterly lost to all feeling and dead to all shame . . . the fiery torments of hell await such monsters.
In August, a project was undertaken by “the ladies of the Church of Mary,” meaning the Plaza Church’s official name of Nuestra Señora la Reina de los Angeles, or Our Lady Queen of Angels, to host, reported the Star of the 8th, a festival “for the purpose of raising funds for enclosing the Catholic Cemetery, which is greatly needed.” An account in the News six days later observed that the effort was mounted because “the old adobe wall having crumbled down,” perhaps due to the aforementioned floods, “the last resting place of the dead lies exposed and will soon be annexed to the common.”
The event was to be held in the large hall, with two spaces “fitted up and decorated for the occasion,” built by the prominent merchant and landowner Abel Stearns in the Arcadia Block, named for his wife Arcadia Bandini and located at the corner of Arcadia and Los Angeles streets, the site now where U.S. 101 runs through the area. In its edition of the 22nd, the Star commented that the festival was likely to be “one of the most agreeable entertainments of the season” as “refreshments of all kinds will be served, and dancing in abundance.” In its review of the event, on the 29th, the paper recorded,
We are happy to announce it a complete success, and one of the most pleasant affairs that has ever taken place in this city. The halls were crowded to their utmost, and the festivities were continued until an advanced hour in the morning. [With net proceeds of about $1,160] the ladies return their thanks to the citizens, for their kindness and liberality upon this occasion.
The Star was shuttered in fall 1864 amid Civil War controversies with its Confederate-supporting proprietor and Union advocate Phineas Banning, who established the new port town of Wilmington, moved the printing machinery to that community to operate the Journal. In the 8 April 1865 edition, just days before the assassination of President Abraham Lincoln, it published an account of a visit to the Angel City including the passage through orchards and vineyards that predominated south of town with the remark “a stranger unaccustomed to Spanish towns would not consider Los Angeles a pretty place” including because of the predominance of “uncouth buildings” made of adobe bricks, though some were “inhabited by some of the best citizens, are well furnished, and make comfortable dwellings.”
After an overnight stay at the Bella Union Hotel, the first to open in town during the Gold Rush era, a Sunday morning climb on “the top of the hill,” meaning Fort Moore Hill near the City/Protestant Cemetery, “that overlooks the city” revealed the scale of the area. This was followed by a brief mention of that graveyard “situated in a pretty spot upon this hill” and where “the fruitful soil of Los Angeles soon covers the graves of the departed with the green sod, and high weeds have to be pushed aside before the inscriptions on the gravestones can be read.”
Visits were made to the Methodist Sunday School and the adobe house and substantial orchards and vineyards of William Wolfskill, where the benefits of the construction material for the residence was discerned, “they are nice and cool in the hottest weather, and we were informed that they are war in winter—so there is no inducement to exchange them for more showy dwellings.” Praise to the proprietor was propounded as the unnamed writer opined “how different this county would appear if each landholder would thus exert himself in developing his possessions to the utmost.”
The account, which ended with the admission that Los Angeles, as explored, was more attractive than at first sight, though “we were assured many times that it was too early in the season to see the city in its glory” so that it was presumed “it must indeed be a lovely spot when all its fruits and flowers are in their prime,” then continued,
Just at the close of the day we visited the Catholic cemetery. It is situated just outside the city in a beautiful locality, but it is the picture of neglect. It seems but proper that a few dollars should be expended in adorning the last resting place of the pioneers of Los Angeles.
As Los Angeles and its environs emerged from the dire days of flood and drought and moved slowly towards the region’s first boom, the News of 20 February 1866 printed a notice from the Plaza Church’s curate, the Rev. Francis Mora, who informed the public that Bishop Thaddeus Amat (who almost a decade before blessed St. Nicholas’ Chapel at El Campo Santo, now part of the Homestead) “will bless the Catholic Cemetery,” but that there would also be improvements for the burial ground.
It was continued that “persons who have relatives or friends interred in the line of the walks marked out, are requested to move them into the other places which will be assigned.” If not, Mora was ordered by Amat to “remove the monuments, palings or crossed, and will have said walks leveled.” It would certainly be interesting to know how many remains were moved and what were left to be unidentified under the new walkways.
As the Sixties came to a close, there was a notable report in the Star of 12 August 1870, which let its readers know,
The church records in possession of Vicar General Father [Francis] Mora, show that during the year ending August 1, 1870, 257 deaths have occurred [among Roman Catholics] in Los Angeles, the deceased being buried in the Catholic Cemetery. No doubt a corresponding number have died and been buried in the Protestant Cemetery, and elsewhere [such as the Jewish burying ground].
The last remark likely reflected a dramatic demographic shift that was heightened by the boom that was launched a couple of years prior with most of the new migration to greater Los Angeles comprising white Protestants from other parts of the country, including the Southern states devastated by the recent war.
The 1870 census, in fact, recorded a slight majority of Anglos in the county, though Latinos were still, if not for long, the majority population in the Angel City. It is noteworthy that the short article concluded, “the number of deaths during this year, has been largely augmented, owing to the prevalence of small-pox,” which significantly affected indigenous and Latino populations, “during a portion of the time.
We’ll return next with a fifth part of this post taking our review of some of the history of the old Calvary Cemetery into the 1870s, so be sure to check back with us for that.