How French Was Los Angeles?

There has been some debate over how many French people lived in Old Los Angeles, with estimates ranging from two percent to twenty percent.

The book Los Angeles in Civil War Days puts the figure around ten percent. 

As time travel most likely isn't possible (but feel free to prove me wrong on that), and since there was a significant migration wave after 1850, I suspected the 1860 census would hold the answer. Unfortunately, most of it has not been transcribed (and I'm not about to volunteer because, like most people who grew up in the computer age, I have trouble reading frilly Victorian handwriting). I had to figure out a workaround for that.

Here are all the French, Québecois, French Swiss, Walloon, and French-American (at least one French parent) Angelenos I can find in the 1860 census (if there are any missing, please comment with citations):

Abarta family: Pedro, French. Jose, Pedro, Isabel, Emilia, and Graciosa, Californians. 

Aillard, Hillarain. French.

Alexandre family: Raymond, French. Amsindo and Alexander, Californian.

Alexis, Camille. French.

Alma family: Antonio, French. Antonio (Jr.) and Florentina, Californian. 

Amellac, Auguste, French.

Amestoy family: Domingo and Baptiste, French.

Aullebmy family: Jean, Carolina, and Satarina, French.

Baingust, Nicolas. French.

Baltz family: Angela, Peter, and Philip, French.

Bartolin, Antonio. French.

Beaudry, James. Québecois.

Beaudry, Victor. Québecois.

Beaugardin family: Theodore and Adeline, French.

Behn family: Adela (maiden name not listed), French. Alexander, Nieves, and Luisa, Californian.

Bernard, Jean. Swiss.

Bernick, Jean. French.

Blaine family: Jeanne and Peter, French.

Billon, Jean. French.

Biscardes, Juan. French.

Bise, Pedro and Diego (brothers). French.

Bodart, Henry. French. 

Bonlantaya, Juana. French.

Bordenave, Emile. French.

Boscano, Emiliano. French.

Bouet family: Jean-Baptiste, French. Juan, Elizabeth, Alfonzo, Virginia, Guillermo, and Agustin, Californian.

Boysual, Armand. French.

Brenzin, Stanislaus. French.

Brisson, Pedro. French.

Briswalter family: Andre and Agathe, French.

Brittone, Jean. French.

Brunet family: Manuel, French. Maria S., Californian.

Brust, Martin. French.

Bry, Louis. Swiss.

Budin, Prudie. French.

Caillet, Louis. French.

Carter, Peter. French.

Caugnina family: August and Mary, French. Josephina and Alice, Californian.

Chanaca, Francisco. French.

Charles, William. French.

Clarot family: Charles and Elizabeth, French. Amado, Californian.

Claude family: Henriot, Maria, Annice, and Maria (Jr.), French. Louisa, Californian.

Clement family: Michael and Mary, French. Michel and Mary JC, Californian.

Cleobule, Blanch. French.

Cretinier, Pierre. French.

Davis, Jean. French.

Davoust, Adrien. French.

Dazzet family: Julian and Renie, French.

De Dios family: Juan (French) and Procopio (Californian).

Defoe, Joseph. French.

Delangro, Herman. French.

Delaval, Charles and Henri. French.

Delaval, Gustave. Swiss.

Deman, G. French.

Dery family: Geblin and Marie, French. Octavio and Ernest, Californian.

Docan, Juan and Pauline, French.

Domac family: Juan J, Juan B, French. Frank, Californian.

Domec family: Pierre, French. Francisca, Saladonio, and Terecia, Californian.

Dubaardoux family: Thomas, Bernarda and Lucia, French; Juana, Lucia, Amelio, Maria, and Henry, Californians.

Ducommun, Charles.

Ducommun family: Amelia, Alice, French.

Dugue, Elesac. French.

Duprat, Leon. French.

Echepare, Martin. French.

Esprit, Candita, French.

Etchemendy, Juan. French.

Etitus, Estifen. French.

Farney family: Jacob and Julia, French.

Fingar, Henrietta. French.

Flowers, Jean. French.

Fourcade, John and Theresa, French.

Francis, Jean. French.

Gaillard, Maria, French, and Maria (Jr), Californian.

Garrett, Amos. French.

Gassagua family: Charles and Mary, French.

Gassoit, Arnault. French.

Germain, Jean. French.

Gossons, Peter. French.

Gouddin, Louis. French.

Grange, Achille. French.

Gregory, Ernest. French.

Grosse, Alphonse. French.

Guiol family: Frederic, French. Children Frederic and Adolfo, Californians.

Harraway, John. French.

Hathaway, Jacob. French.

Hennaquin, Maria. French.

Humberd, Prosper. French.

Jicovis, Domingo. French.

Johns, Reitch. French.

Juanna, Philippina. French.

Jueguen, Jean. French.

Kremer family: Maurice, French. Rachel, Californian.

Kuhn, Henry. French. 

Labatt, Jean. French.

Labi, Pierre. French.

Lacerol family: Pedro and Maria, French. Frederick, Californian.

Lauren, Jean. French.

Laboite family: Fernando, Mary, and Mary A. (daughter), French.

Labory family: Antonio. French. Leonardo, Californian. 

Lacarde, Prosper. French.

Lachamois family: Achille and Clementine, French.

Lachenais, Michel. French.

Lacke, William. French.

Lacourer, Frank. French.

Lafare, Martin. French.

Lafon, John. Québecois.

Lalle family: Pedro, French. Juan and Pedro (Jr), Californian.

Laroche, Alexandre. French.

Lazard, Solomon and Abraham (brothers). French.

Lecor, Carlos. French.

Lecroq family: Emile and Sarah, French. Emily and Sarah (Jr.), Californian.

Lecroy family: Felix and Henry, both French.

Legran, Joseph. French.

Lehman, George. French.

Leigle, Arsenne. French.

Lelong family: Martin, French. Martin T, Martin S, Martin F, Bautista, Bernabe, Victor, Josepha - American.

Lemaire, Francois. French.

Lepaon, Honorine. French.

Liboban family: Charles, French. Maria, Californian.

Licrox family: Juan, French. Francisca, Californian.

Lincitt, Paul. French.

Lorain, Thomas. Québecois.

Louis, Magil (Miguel?). French.

Louis, Michon. French.

Louis, Stanislaus. French.

Luckhart, Charles. French.

Maes, Pedro. French.

Mano. Andre. French.

Marchessault, Damien. Québecois.

Margined, James. French.

Mascarel family: Joseph, French; Josefa, Joseph, Petronila, and Adolfo, Californian. 

Maurnos, Bernard. French.

Menaker family: John, Catharine, and Mary, French.

Menards, Francisco.

Mesmer family: Louis and Catherine, French. Joseph, Californian.

Messonier, Victor. French.

Metch, Remy. French.

Meter, Francisco. French.

Moerenhault family: Jacob, Belgian (French diplomat). Antonio and Emma, born in Tahiti.

Montaln, Dennis. French.

Neven, Theodore and Celena, both French.

Pelotte, Julian. French.

Penelon, Henri. French.

Plasant family: Charles and Jean, both French.

Prudhomme family: Leon Victor, French. Maria, Charles, and Caroline, Californians.

Poulain family: Augustine and Eugenie, French. Sidonie, Leonarda, Peter, Adrien, and Honore, Californian.

Reddy, Peter. French.

Rene, Simon. French.

Ribourne, Frederic. French.

Richards, Peter. French.

Rives, Bartin. French.

Riviere, Frank. French.

Romain, Doleac. French.

Routet family: Mathias and Louise, French. Susana, Californian.

Rumebe, Joseph. French.

Sainsevain family: Louis, Jeanne, Miguela, French. 

Salaveri, Isabel. French.

Sapell, Charles. French.

Sarlandie family: Jennie and Jose, French.

Sarris family: Phillipe, French. Maria and Phileciadrea, Californian.

Sassate family: Charles and Eugenie, French.

Saul, Delon. French.

Sebrala, Jean. French.

Segovia, Zula. French.

Selahon, Jose. French.

Shumacker family: Mary, French (maiden name not listed). Mary A and Caroline, Californian.

Signoret family: Felix and Catherine, French. Rosa, Californian.

Sorirel, Juan. French.

Sorness, Manuel. French.

Snyder, Clara. French.

Staats, D. French.

Tanheart, Jean. French.

Thirion, George. French.

Tunirie family: Antonio, Georgia, French. Toracia, Anota, John, American.

Vaché family: Emile and Zoe, French. Louise and Emile Jr., Californian.

Vigal, Louis. French.

Vignes family: Jean M., Jean, Jeanne, Jean-Louis, Vitale, Emma, French. Helen, Californian.

Vigo family: Antonio and Mary, French.

Weaver, Nicolas. French.

While I cannot personally guarantee the full accuracy of the census in the days of poorer record-keeping and inconsistent spellings (I found some errors - hell, I submitted several corrections to things I KNEW were transcribed wrong), this indicates 316 or so French, mixed French, and Francophone Angelenos in Los Angeles City proper. 

With the 1860 population at 4,385, assuming the census is reasonably accurate, that puts LA's French community at 13.87%. Which is certainly below the twenty percent estimate, but it blows the two percent claim out of the water.

I should tackle the 1870 census next.

*Note: Yes, there are a lot of Spanish names. Many French Angelenos adopted Spanish versions of their birth names; quite a few of the families listed were mixed marriages, often with Californio, Mexican, or Native American wives; and the census does not distinguish Basques from other French or Spanish citizens. Also, any spelling errors (and I suspect quite a few of these are misspelled) are either the census takers' or the transcribers' and not my own.

AI-Free and Proud Of It

With the WGA strike in effect, it's well-known that one major sticking point is the possible use of AI in entertainment writing. I'm not a WGA member, just a nerd with a blog and the occasional byline elsewhere, but I'm not a fan of replacing human writers. 

The other day, my dad asked me to explain what ChatGPT was. 

I explained that ChatGPT is an AI chatbot, and you can prompt it to generate all sorts of content. I mentioned that AI is being pitched as a way to generate ad copy, articles...and blog posts...and that screenwriters are concerned about having work taken away by AI bots, or having to fix scripts generated by AI bots. 

Dad asked me to try an experiment in ChatGPT: prompt it to write an article about the French in Los Angeles and show it to him.

I warned him that it was going to be terrible. 

I tried generating several different versions, and they were almost as bad as the mistake-heavy clickbait that's still floating around out there. Almost.

Here are some of the highlights - or is it lowlights? Anyway:

One of the most notable French architects to work in Los Angeles during this time was Paul J. Pelz, who designed many of the city's most important buildings, including the Los Angeles Public Library and the Bradbury Building.

Hilariously incorrect. First of all, Pelz was born in a part of Eastern Germany that isn't even close to France. Second, he lived in Washington D.C. after immigrating. Third, while he did design the Point Fermin lighthouse in San Pedro (lighthouses being one specialty of his), he had nothing to do with Central Library or the Bradbury Building.

In the late 19th and early 20th centuries, French immigrants continued to arrive in Los Angeles, and the French community began to grow.

Uh, not quite. The biggest influx came between 1850 and 1860, and after the railroad arrived, the French became a smaller and smaller portion of the City and County's population. 

Many French citizens settled in the city's affluent neighborhoods, such as Beverly Hills and Bel Air, where they established businesses and built impressive homes.

Uh, I've spent 9 years working on a map that says otherwise. Relatively few French citizens settled in rich Westside neighborhoods, and even then, most of those I've found were celebrities living amongst other celebrities, such as French filmmakers Jean Renoir and Louis Malle. (One outlier: Thomas Pedy, who was in the cutlery business and lived close to where the Four Seasons is now.)

The French Consulate in Los Angeles serves as a hub for French cultural and economic activity in Southern California.

Good luck getting them to return an email (I have tried).

The history of the French in Los Angeles dates back to the late 19th century when a small number of French immigrants arrived in the city. However, it was not until the 20th century that the French community in Los Angeles began to grow significantly.

This is so, so wrong that it made me cackle like a wicked witch in a Disney movie. 

During the early 1900s, French immigrants began to settle in the city, attracted by job opportunities in the oil and gas industries, as well as the growing film industry. Many of these early French immigrants were from the southern region of France, particularly from the city of Marseille.

WRONG! The first French immigrant arrived in 1827, the first big wave began in the 1840s, the French were a tiny fraction of LA's population by 1900, and back in the day, most French immigrants went into winemaking, sheep ranching, or farming. Oil and gas came quite a bit later. Regular readers may recall that Prudent Beaudry accidentally struck oil on one of his hilltop properties while digging a well.

Also, while LA's French community came from all over France and French Canada (with some outliers from Belgium and Switzerland), there were relatively few arrivals from Marseille. LA's most represented region of France was the Basque Country, hands down.

Le Mesnager founded the French Hospital in Los Angeles, which later became the French Hospital Medical Center...

George Le Mesnager is one Frenchman LA should remember, and for good reason - but he had nothing to do with the founding of the French Hospital, which became the Pacific Alliance Medical Center. He was still a teenager when the cornerstone was laid. While the hospital was being built, he went back to France to fight in the Franco-Prussian War. 

...and the city hosts several French-themed events each year, including the Bastille Day Los Angeles festival.

I FREAKING WISH. LA used to have a huge Bastille Day celebration, but has rudely ignored Bastille Day since 1968. (Hey Mayor Bass, who exactly does one have to be to get City Hall lit up like the Tricolor on July 14?)

...there was a French community that settled in the downtown area of Los Angeles in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, particularly around the area of Main Street and Arcadia Street.

It was early-to-mid-19th century, and the intersection is close, but wrong. The hub of the French Colony was at Alameda and Aliso Streets.

The French community in Los Angeles was not as large or well-established as in some other American cities...

While I have yet to make an exhaustive study of the census, one reliable figure estimates that the French accounted for one out of every ten Angelenos, and another put the figure closer to twenty percent. Ten percent is pretty significant (for comparison, 11.6% of Angelenos are of Asian descent and 9% of Angelenos are Black; would you call either of those populations insignificant? I wouldn't). Twenty percent certainly isn't small.

One of the most prominent French neighborhoods in Los Angeles was located around the intersection of Main and Winston Streets. This area was known as "French Town" and was home to many French immigrants who worked in nearby factories and shops.

Main and Winston is on the edge of the Toy District, southwest of what was called "French Town". It's almost a mile away from the hub of the French Colony. (What is it with anyone, human or bot, thinking Frenchtown was a mile away from its true location?)

Another notable French community was centered around the city's historic Olvera Street, which was originally a Mexican marketplace but became a popular destination for tourists interested in experiencing the city's Spanish and Mexican heritage.

While there were some French activities in the Plaza area, Olvera Street was definitely not the hub of French LA. Don't get me started on the bot's description of Olvera Street (which was probably originally an alley). 

There were French-owned shops, restaurants, and hotels, as well as a French-language newspaper called "La Gazette."

The first half of this sentence is correct. The second half made me cringe. LA has had several French-language newspapers over the years (possibly as many as 10), but I have yet to find a single reference to one called La Gazette.

However, the legacy of the French community can still be seen in the French-style architecture of some of the historic buildings in the Bunker Hill area, as well as in the French names of some of the streets in the area, such as Grand Avenue and Figueroa Street.

ChatGPT must not be aware that Old Bunker Hill was annihilated decades ago. There is nothing on modern-day Bunker Hill that I would classify as resembling French architecture. Also, while there are some French street names (Beaudry, Mignonette), Figueroa's origins are distinctly Spanish, and Grand Avenue got its name when residents tired of jokes about living on Charity Street. 

Today, there are still a few French-inspired businesses and landmarks in the downtown area, such as the French restaurant Taix, which has been in operation since 1927.

Taix's downtown location was lost in 1964 (for a parking facility, of all things). The restaurant's sole surviving location is in Echo Park...for now.

The French writer and journalist Charles Lummis also settled in Los Angeles in the late 19th century and played an important role in promoting the city's cultural heritage and history.

This blog has tremendous respect for Charles Fletcher Lummis, but he was from Massachusetts.  

Some of the most prominent French winemakers in Los Angeles at the time included Jean-Louis Vignes, Charles Kohler...

Charles Kohler was prominent enough to have Kohler Street named after him. However, he was German. 

Do I need to go on, or have I made my point?

With the sole exception of the quotes pasted above, this blog has always been, and will always be, free from AI. I type every word, and I always will.

The Masselins and the Miracle Mile

Northern California's gold fields attracted prospectors from around the world, including France. Some unsuccessful Frenchmen left for Los Angeles, which still boasted an ample supply of cheap land and already had a growing French community that could help them raise money to return home - or to find work, buy land, and settle permanently.

Joseph Masselin was one of them. Hailing from Haute-Normandie, Masselin was seventeen when gold was found halfway around the world at Sutter's Mill.

Sources disagree on whether the Masselin family stayed in Northern California until 1859 or until 1870, which was more than 20 years after the gold rush began. Masselin was married to Aquitaine native Marie Sehabiague, and they had six children: John Baptiste, Jennie, Joseph, Zellie, Julia, and Cornelia.

In 1870, Los Angeles was expanding east (really). Unable to afford ranch lands on the Eastside, Masselin bought 120 acres of much-cheaper farmland on what was then the Westside. 

Specifically, the farm fronted what is now Wilshire Boulevard.

A family member's obituary states that the farm was bounded by Wilshire, Rimpau, Olympic, and "what is now La Brea". I checked this claim against an acreage calculator and found it to be about 148 acres, not 120. Since there are multiple references to the farm fronting Wilshire, I'm certain of that boundary, but I can't be 100 percent sure that the others are accurate. Masselin bought land throughout his life, so it's certainly possible he expanded the farm at a later date.

Masselin also began buying land on the old Rancho La Cienega and in the Beaudry Tract within a decade of his arrival. He was later known as a major landowner in the Cahuenga Valley (southeastern Hollywood).

Like so many Frenchmen before and after him, Masselin raised sheep, partnering with Rock Sarrail on the Verdugo ranch. Although other Frenchmen were ruined when the price of wool suddenly dropped, Masselin and Sarrail survived the crash, and did well enough to expand to Bolsa Grande (Garden Grove), Bolsa Chica (Huntington Beach), and San Diego County.

Masselin also became a city councilman, often served on the Bastille Day committee, and championed civic improvements as an early planning commissioner.

Masselin partnered with T.J. Molle in a store, selling coal, hay, wood, grain, and such on Eighth Street between Main and Spring. Molle left in 1891, leaving Masselin to fill orders alone. 

Masselin passed away in 1898 at age 68, and is interred in Calvary Cemetery with his wife and their children (in eight adjoining mausoleum vaults). But this story doesn't end with him.

Much of what we now call Wilshire Boulevard was initially a path used by the Tongva people, and for nearly all of Masselin's lifetime it was known as Calle de los Indios. Wilshire Boulevard as we know it today was born closer to downtown, in 1895, and slowly expanded both east and west. 

Henry Gaylord Wilshire initially planned for Wilshire Boulevard to be 15 blocks long and 60 feet wide, with 35-foot sidewalks, and to be paired with a hotel. He soon applied to build an electric railroad that would run through Westlake and on the proposed Boulevard.

The "Wilshire Boulevard Ordinance", proposed in 1899 and later upheld by the city, sought to protect the stylish new thoroughfare from "heavy teaming, particularly the hauling of oil." (This is somewhat ironic, given that Wilshire Boulevard's predecessor Calle de los Indios was used by the Tongva to collect tar from the La Brea Tar Pits and haul it to the coast, where they would use it to fill the cracks in their wooden plank canoes.) Oil vendors took the matter to court a year later and won. 

Wilshire Boulevard was intended for "boulevard and park purposes" rather than business purposes, although it's certainly much busier now than Wilshire and the interested property owners could ever have imagined. The issue of banning heavy vehicles from the Boulevard came up over and over, and the ordinance was deemed valid again and again. 

1908 news blurb on "boulevardizing" Wilshire Boulevard

1909 blurb on a court hearing for the Wilshire Boulevard ordinance. Joseph Masselin (II) was present at the final hearing.

The farm's end came in 1922, when the Masselin family sold their last 73 acres to the developers of the Wilshire Vista tract. 

1922 clipping on the sale of the Masselin farm's last 73 acres to the Wilshire Vista tract

The Masselin farm may be long gone, but Masselin Avenue still bears their name, just eight short blocks from the farm's western boundary. Masselin Avenue runs north-south, intersecting with Wilshire Boulevard.

"That Simple, Friendly House Front"

Prudent Beaudry was wealthy and successful. But he, personally, didn't spend all that much on himself.

He did take a vacation once, in 1855. He went to Montreal to visit his brother Jean-Louis (who later became Montreal's Mayor) before continuing on to Paris to see the Exposition Universelle and visit world-famous oculist Dr. Jules Sichel in hopes of improving his poor eyesight.

But, for the most part, Beaudry seems to have funneled his earnings right back into his varied business ventures and into improving his adopted city. For such a successful man, he lived relatively frugally.

Modern-day Angelenos might expect Beaudry - a successful developer, business owner, and two-term Mayor - to live in a beautiful, spacious house in an upscale neighborhood. 

He didn't. 

Prudent Beaudry's house on New High Street

Side view of Prudent Beaudry's house

Prudent Beaudry lived alone in a fairly narrow three-story tenement-style house close to the Plaza - not even on Bunker Hill, which he developed. And the house doubled as the Beaudry brothers' real estate office and the office of the Temple Street Cable Railway (which they helped develop) for a time. Victor lived on Temple Street with his wife and children.

1883-1884 City Directory listing for Beaudry's house/office on New High Street

The house was initially assigned the address of 81 New High Street. By 1884, the street numbering had changed, making the address 201 New High Street. The address changed again later, to 501 New High Street.

Prudent Beaudry passed away in 1893, by which time he had moved out of the little house on New High Street. New owners were renting out rooms.

1892 ad for rooms to let in Beaudry's former home

A Mrs. Sallie Bailey was living in the house in 1893, and filed a criminal complaint against a Mr. George White for attacking her with a pistol.

A few months after Beaudry's death, the house factored into a scammer's lurid plot. 

San Francisco con artist J. Milton Haley arrived in Los Angeles and soon heard of three sex workers who wanted to open their own brothel. (Prostitution was somewhat tolerated as long as it was confined to the area now occupied by Union Station, Father Serra Park, and the El Pueblo parking lot.) Haley posed as the Chief of Police's confidential clerk and offered to rent out 501 New High Street for them.

By this time, the house was jointly owned by a Mr. Nolan and a Mr. Smith. Haley got the house's keys from them on the pretense of looking over the place, then forged a receipt. Unfortunately for Haley, the sex workers did their due diligence by going to police headquarters and asking questions. 

Thirteen days after arriving in Los Angeles, the San Francisco scammer was arraigned for forgery.

A 1900 news blurb indicates that a fire at the building necessitated a permit for $130 worth of repairs.

Detail of Beaudry's former home at 501 New High Street in 1906 Sanborn Map. 
Do note that it is now identified as a paint shop, with a dwelling on the second and third floors.

501 New High Street's former location in context with other Plaza-area buildings. It would have been across New High Street from the back of the Brunswig Building (still F.W. Braun & Co. at this point). 

1903 ad for Craig & Burrows' painting and wallpaper hanging business, based in the Beaudry house

I surmise that the ground-level office space and the upstairs living quarters may have been either rented out separately or one tenant sublet the unused space to another. Newspaper ads continue to place Craig & Burrows' paint and wallpaper business in the house, along with co-owner George Craig (Frank Burrows lived at 501 1/2). But, a 1906 news blurb notes that Mahogany Hall, a notorious brothel, was also located at 501 New High Street (presumably upstairs). Mahogany Hall was dubbed "Suicide Hall" by the twenty-five Black and mixed-race women trafficked inside, and was considered one of the absolute worst places in Los Angeles. (I should note that at least one 1906 account places Mahogany Hall at 515 New High Street; however, number 515 doesn't exist on the 1906 Sanborn map.)

Ironically, another article about Mahogany Hall stated that the courthouse had used 501 New High Street as office space at one point.

By 1907, the house was so dilapidated and filthy that it was being eyed for condemnation and demolition along with several older adobe houses down New High Street. However, the city directory continued to list Craig & Burrows' paint shop at the address. I surmise the owners made some badly needed repairs after the brothel's closure, since the directory lists a variety of renters, including Spring Street dentist Dr. Tagaki, living in the house beginning in 1908.

A 1915 news blurb states the building was leased to E.F. Potter for a branch of the Bible Institute. That arrangement can't have lasted long, since a year later it was housing the Sonora Union Gospel Mission, a Spanish-language branch of the Union Rescue Mission (yes, this is the same Union Rescue Mission active today - it dates to 1891). 

1916 blurb placing the Union Rescue Mission's Spanish-language branch at 501 New High Street

The mission seems to have moved out by 1923, since the city directory places restauranteur Florentino Jimenez at 501 New High Street, followed by Refugio Guerrero in 1927. Mrs. Marie Jimenez appears in listings in 1928. 

The city directory failed to identify the restaurant on the premises, but the LA Times didn't. Lee Shippey's column mentioned it twice:

Excerpt from "Lee Side O' LA" mentioning Moctezuma Restaurant

Shippey, detailing Arthur Millier's 1928 exhibition of etchings at what is now the Natural History Museum, noted "Many of us have passed it a hundred times without noticing that there is a great deal of artistic beauty in the rather dingy building on New High Street which shelters the Moctezuma Restaurant." (Millier's etchings were all of California scenes, and more than half were of scenes in the Plaza area. Some of them can be found in world-class art museums. Please let me know if the etching of Beaudry's house ever turns up.)

Several paragraphs later, Shippey added "And all are of things which soon must pass away before the onrush of progress. Within a few years most of the things pictured in this collection will be only memories to the people who possess such pictures as Millier's - and not even memories to most of us." (City Hall was dedicated nearly nine weeks later and the plans for Union Station were under way. The original plan was to wipe out the entire Plaza, but that's an even longer story and the main character is Christine Sterling.)

How do we know Moctezuma Restaurant was located at 501 New High Street? The LA Public Library has photographic proof (although I am not sure the 1910 date is accurate).

Three months later, Shippey's column revisited 501 New High Street. In part:

Some months ago we were walking with Arthur Millier, the artist, when he stopped before the three-story house on New High Street which bore the name of the Moctezuma Restaurant, and began to sketch.

"There is something really beautiful, really interesting," he exclaimed. "There is some real art on that simple, friendly house front."

We wondered what the history of the place was, but no one we asked then knew anything about it. 

Mexicans who knew nothing of the history of the place were living there then, and it had not been used as a restaurant for a long time. But the interior of the house was as interesting as the exterior, full of quaintness and beauty in a setting of brick and adobe. This was discovered recently by some folks who wish to start a tea-room close to the City Hall, and now the old place is being refurnished as an early-day Los Angeles home. 

The new lessees say the house was built by Prudent Beaudry, Mayor of Los Angeles in 1875. Beaudry also was one of the first real estate promoters here, and is credited with being the first to start selling real estate on installments. He made and lost three fortunes and then got busy and made a fourth. He had a store in the Beaudry Block on Temple Street and launched a cable car line. [Shippey got the street wrong, per my last entry.]

But isn't it rather encouraging to be reminded that the City Hall may result in the rehabilitation instead of the destruction of landmarks? There simply can't be anything lovable about a city in which everything is new. It is the old, the historic, the things one has grown used to, that make a city lovable.

(Emphasis mine.)

Snippet from Shippey column referencing Prudent Beaudry's house

As you can see from the clipping, the Moctezuma Restaurant was also a clean match for Beaudry's narrow three-story house.

Unfortunately, Shippey's first prediction ultimately proved correct. Water and Power states that Beaudry's humble house was torn down in 1931. (In between, it housed La Bombilia Restaurant in 1930.)

Detail of 501 New High Street from 1906-1950 Sanborn map

The above map snippet shows the County Bureau of Weights and Measures at 501 N. Main. However, the building is six feet wider and much deeper than Beaudry's humble house - plus the first floor is made of reinforced concrete. I believe this was a newer building added later. Strangely, like its predecessor, it served as emergency courthouse space in 1947. After that, it was a sheriff's department laboratory (which later moved across the street to the Garnier Block).

The 500 block of New High Street no longer exists, of course. Like a depressingly high number of other things in Los Angeles, it disappeared under a parking lot many years ago (most likely in the 1950s when the freeway wiped out much of what surrounded the Plaza).

Beaudry's house survived Beaudry's death, the decline of the Plaza area, generations of renters, doubling as a squalid brothel with a violent reputation, and nearly being torn down twice (1907 and 1928). It was undergoing restoration. It was going to survive after all...and then we lost it.

And now I need to add Prudent Beaudry's house to my never-ending "They Paved Frenchtown and Put Up a Parking Lot" entry.

Let's Visit Beaudry's Block!

Regular readers may already know that Prudent Beaudry owned a commercial building, which his brother Victor remodeled into Southern California's finest business block.

Beaudry's Block (or the Beaudry Block) is long gone; the corner where it stood became part of the 101 long ago. But we can get an idea of what it was like.

At least one source indicated it was originally adobe, but that the original adobe walls were replaced with brick. This was an expensive endeavor for the 1850s, costing $25,000 (about $884,000* today) - and cost more than twice the building's $11,000 price tag!

Newspaper accounts indicate Beaudry's Block had fronts on both Los Angeles Street and Aliso Street, and a map in the Huntington Library collection indicates it was part of a tract he developed. (In a sign of the times, at least one older source gives an address using Los Angeles Street's old name.) Pepper trees were planted outside.

Beaudry property map, 1863. Courtesy of the Huntington Library

In this 1855 newspaper ad, note that the address for Beaudry's Block is given as "Calle de Aliso" (the original Spanish street names still very much in use) with no number.

Ad for W.W. Twist, grocer and commission merchant, 1855

In this ad, published a few months later, note the frontage on what is now Los Angeles Street. (I should probably also explain "made to order by machinery" here. Sewing machines existed in 1855 but were not widely accepted until the Civil War necessitated making a lot of uniforms very quickly.)

Ad for machine-made bags, tents, wagon covers, and other heavy-duty fabric items, 1855

By 1857, you could visit the City Marshal's office to pay your taxes.

Notice of city Marshal's office in Beaudry's Block receiving taxes, 1857

Prudent Beaudry expanded his real estate later that year, turning one building into a block of brick buildings (see the map above for how this played out). By October of 1857, it comprised seven storefronts.

1857 news blurb describing Beaudry's expansion of the Beaudry Block

1857 news blurb noting completion of the Block

1858 ad for Fleishman & Sichel's storefront on the Aliso side of Beaudry's Block

1859 ad for Jones & Barber's wares

1860 ad for a maker of horse tack and carriage trimming

1860 ad for a new store selling willow ware (i.e. blue willow china), glassware, silver-plate, crockery, etc. The ad refers to the building as "Beaudry's Brick Block".

Spanish-language ad from 1860 advertising a tinsmith. Mr. Breuzin sold utensils for household and mining use, and the bolded bit advertised repair for liquor stills. I'm sure I don't need to explain how popular booze was in Wild West-era Los Angeles.

1862 ad for Au Gamin de Paris, a private boarding house with a well-stocked bar and coffee saloon. Miss J. Fillean seems to disappear from history after this, but Louis Gruillot went on to co-found the Barnum restaurant five years later, serving tripes 'a la mode de Caen (tripe with cider and Calvados), a traditional dish from Normandy, every Sunday.

I should note that Au Gamin de Paris was an outlier for French-owned boarding houses because it was at Aliso and Los Angeles Streets, not in the immediate vicinity of Alameda and Aliso like nearly all of the other French boarding houses.

1862 ad for three vacant storefronts (one with living quarters), plus three upstairs rooms. A similar ad published a few months later advertises two storefronts for rent, plus a wine cellar.

Beaudry got into the flour business as well. Longtime readers may recall that the Aliso flour mill was the workplace of murder victim Henri Deleval. An ad published a few months later mentions the same storefront selling brooms, calfskin and sole leather for shoemaking, and, curiously, a thousand pounds of Petaluma cheese.

This large 1864 newspaper ad, which must have cost a pretty penny even then, advertises Beaudry's own store, taking up several of the Block storefronts. Groceries, alcohol, hardware, clothes, shoes, wagon supplies, crockery, and seeds for grain farming - Beaudry had something for every Civil War-era shopper in Los Angeles. Later ads mentioned doors, window sashes, blinds, cotton seeds, wallpaper, finer ladies' clothing, and sewing machines (which, by 1865, were increasingly desirable household items). Beaudry advertised goods sold "at San Francisco prices", meaning without the hefty markup most of LA's merchants added at the time (having anything shipped to then-remote Los Angeles was expensive).

Beaudry added some special services, too: monthly grain storage for area farmers, and insurance for buildings (whether residential or commercial).

Unfortunately, by 1866 Beaudry announced he was closing up shop and liquidating the store, auctioning off the stock. He had made the mistake of offending Harris Newmark with a comment about his store running Jewish merchants out of business, which prompted Newmark to undercut Beaudry’s pricing. Newmark took a financial hit (from which he recovered), but succeeded in shutting down Beaudry’s store. (As to whether Beaudry was anti-Semitic: he’d probably be canceled for that comment today. Still, he had Jewish tenants and Jewish business partners, and entrusted his poor vision to a Jewish optician. Only Beaudry himself knows for sure, and he’s not talking.)

1866 ad for Laventhal's clothing, shoe, and dry goods store.

1868 notice of restaurant ownership transfer

The Beaudry Block housed at least one French restaurant - La Pension Français. 

By 1869, Beaudry was running his real estate office from Beaudry's Block.

1869 ad for Beaudry's real estate business at Beaudry's Block address

I hasten to add that he moved his office to 4 Beaudry Terrace in the spring of 1870.

Ad for Eagle Mills grain and livestock feed store, 1872

The corner storefront got a new tenant in 1874. Messrs. Serrano and Bilderrain sold clothing, boots, shoes, and dry goods in the space.

In 1891, Prudent Beaudry sold Beaudry's Block to T.D. Stimson, a lumber baron who had recently arrived from Chicago. Stimson was 60 years old, searching for a quieter life out West, and was worth several million dollars - in 1891, that was quite a lot of money. (Read about Stimson's West Adams home here.)

Stimson must have made some alterations to Beaudry's Block; the 1894 Sanborn Map shows it was no longer a continuous L shape. Los Angeles didn't have a significant earthquake in the 1890s, and brick buildings are less likely to catch on fire, which suggests the changes weren't the result of a natural disaster. 

Former site of Beaudry's Block, 1894

As you can see, the corner that was home to Beaudry's L-shaped Block now housed the Wilcox Block (home to two French hotels), with a 55-foot gap separating the existing buildings from some hay sheds. 

Beaudry had passed away in 1893. I do wonder if his sale of the building had anything to do with it being more or less next to the red-light district.

*The actual cost of remodeling a 19th century adobe into a brick building would likely be higher today due to California's strict building codes. I hasten to add that I hope no one ever actually replaces a surviving 19th century adobe with a brick building in the 21st century - there aren't that many of them left.

Prudent Street in Maps

Beaudry Street, named for the Beaudry brothers, still exists.

Victor Street, named for Victor Beaudry, still exists (although it was bisected by the 101 long ago).

Victor Heights, also named for Victor, still exists (although it tends to get lumped in with Echo Park). 

There is no street named for Prudent Beaudry specifically.

Anymore, that is. There was a Prudent Street!

1894 Sanborn map showing Prudent Street

1906 Sanborn map showing Prudent Street

1920 Sanborn map key detail showing Prudent Street

Sanborn map revised 1923, showing Prudent Street

Sanborn Map republished 1953, still showing Prudent Street

A 1950 atlas page that is unfortunately too blurry to post here indicates that Prudent Street was close to Naud Junction, the Bauchet Tract, and the elusive (because the street grid is gone) Ballesteros Tract.

So Prudent Street did exist, and no longer does. Where did it go?

As shown above, railroad tracks and freight houses were built right alongside Prudent Street. A 1912 news article notes the Southern Pacific Railroad applied for permits to legalize 18 existing railroad spurs. All of the spurs were either on Prudent Street or in its immediate vicinity.

Before the railroad came to this part of LA, it was residential. Two news blurbs from the 1880s reference people who lived on Prudent Street.

Those Southern Pacific spurs are lost to time now, Union Station having made them redundant. As for Prudent Street, its site is currently a big dirt lot near Metro's Chinatown Station.

So You Think You Hate the French, Huh?

Dear Readers: 

As I type this, July 4, Independence Day, is coming to a close. This day would not be possible if France hadn't backed the fledgling US in the Revolution - in fact, I seem to recall something about French ships defeating the Royal Navy at the very end of the war. 

For over 20 years, I've seethed at every philistine who makes nasty, untrue, or just plain bigoted comments about French people. Excusez-moi? I don't go around spouting rude remarks about other ethnicities/cultures, so I don't think it's unreasonable to demand a little respect.

Although it's outside the scope of this blog, I've been tempted to speak my mind on this subject for a long, long time. I promise I'll be back with my latest discovery in a few days (and it was a total shock!). In the meantime, please feel free to share this with anyone you know who might need to read it. 

So you think you hate the French, huh?

If that's really true, you had better act like it and stop availing yourself of everything good they've brought to this world. I will never, ever pretend France or its people are perfect (I openly discuss some very badly behaved Frenchmen in this very blog, plus I don't approve of the whole colonialism thing, even though I'm a product of it twice over). 

This list is not intended to be exhaustive. I don't know everything there is to know. Yet, anyway. Now here we go...

Fashion:

What could be more All-American than jeans? Oh, wait, sorry, you're not allowed to wear them anymore! Jeans are made from denim, which is French. The name itself comes from "serge de Nîmes", referencing the fact that denim was originally produced in Nîmes, France. 

Are you a shoe fiend? Not anymore you're not. Shoes in and of themselves have existed for millennia, but it was Louis XIV's passion for fancy heels that made shoe addiction a thing. (Read Joan DeJean's "The Essence of Style." Actually, read everything she's written. Professor DeJean knows her stuff.) 

Do you read fashion magazines? Cancel your subscriptions immediately and chuck your back issues in the recycling bin tout de suite. Fashion was first reported in print in Le Mercure Galant, way back in the 1670s. Fashion dolls, fashion plates, even depicting the latest styles on the celebrities of the day - that all began in 17th century Paris.

Lingerie as outerwear? Been there, done that, again in the 17th century. It was called "en déshabillé négligée." And I personally guarantee you that Versailles' courtiers wore it better.

And strictly speaking, you really shouldn't be dressing fashionably, or updating your wardrobe, or wearing anything mass produced, at all. Until the court of Louis XIV (yup, him again), clothing didn't change for decades, or even a few centuries, at a time. Trust me on this, I studied History of Costume extensively. The fashion industry itself was born at Versailles, again in the 1670s. Before that, everything was made-to-measure for the wearer.

Retail therapy is now firmly off limits. Until (you guessed it) 17th century Paris, most stores weren't much more than a storage room with a window for service. Customers stayed out in the street and would tell the shopkeeper what they wanted. What fun is that? Chic Parisian shops had the first luxe store interiors and the first window displays - so if you work in retail, you'd better change jobs.

You can also forget about getting a nice stylish haircut. The first professional hairdresser (also the first celebrity hairstylist) was one Monsieur Champagne, whom DeJean compares to Warren Beatty's character in Shampoo. The word "coiffeur" (still used by French speakers) had to be created to describe his job. 

Do you own rain gear? Donate it to a homeless shelter. Waterproof clothing - and compact folding umbrellas! - are French inventions.

Are you absolutely certain you want to dress like a 16th century peasant and cut your own hair yourself? If you truly hated the French, that's what you'd do.

Home:

Do you buy antiques? Thank 17th-century France (again). High-end Paris shopkeepers were the original antiques dealers. Heck, the French word "antiquailles", meaning "worthless old furniture" spawned the word "antique" to distinguish worthless old furniture from desirable old furniture. So hand over the oil paintings, ginger jars, and Bergere chairs - you get to hit the Burbank IKEA!

Turn your dining room into a reading nook while you're at it. The first dedicated dining room was at the chateau Vaux-le-Vicomte.

Do you have a dresser? Donate it - like so many other things in this entry, they debuted at Versailles.

Don't even think about turning on your central heating (if you have it) in the winter. French doctor Louis Savot invented and installed a special air-circulating fireplace at the Louvre, and French lawyer and scientist Nicolas Gauger innovated a heating system with ducts and registers to circulate and heat fresh air. Their work paved the way for an American invention - the Franklin stove.

And you can wave goodbye to your modern bathroom, too. While the French cannot claim to have invented the first-ever toilet, the first modern flush toilet - complete with bidet faucet and ventilation piping - was introduced in early 18th century France. As for actual bathing in a room built for that purpose (with faucets and a water heater etc.), it too began in the homes of the French elite, albeit in the mid-17th century. The increasing demand for modern sanitary facilities, by the way, led to tearing up French streets to install pipes that would bring water to private homes. By contrast, Los Angeles didn't get proper plumbing for another two centuries (through the efforts of a French-Canadian developer, a French-Jewish entrepreneur, and a public health official). If you hate the French, build yourself an outhouse, dig yourself a well, and get used to bathing in a horse trough.

Food:

You can't be a foodie anymore. At least not without some restrictions.

For starters, the first modern cookbook, Le Cuisinier Francais, was published in 1651 by professional chef Francois Pierre, under the pen name La Varenne. This was the first cookbook that made recipes and techniques public knowledge, the first one that grouped recipes by section, and the first to have an index. So you'd better get very good at memorizing recipes very fast, or just tape a random assortment of recipe clippings to your refrigerator.

You can't have a pressure cooker (this includes the famous Instant Pot), either. French physicist Denis Papin invented the first pressure cooker. (It's also the forerunner to the autoclave, so hold off on getting any tattoos.)

Pasteurized food of any kind is absolutely forbidden. Louis Pasteur was French. Good luck not getting sick from raw milk.

Don't like mixing savory and sweet in one dish? French cuisine was the first in the West to separate the two and move sweets to the dessert course. Now pour some maple syrup on that cheeseburger!

I'm sure I don't have to explain why you can't have any sparkling wine, regardless of where it was made. Even if it's not actual Champagne, the process for making wine bubbly was still invented by a French monk, Dom Pierre Pérignon. Heck, any wine with a cork is off limits because Pérignon made corks the standard way to seal wine bottles. 

Also firmly off limits: all California wine, even if it's boxed. Regular readers already know California's wine industry got its start with Bordeaux native Jean-Louis Vignes.

Although restaurants pre-date France itself (a surviving Roman-era fast food place in Italy is proof of that), fine dining began in France - again, in the 17th century, when the elite would dine chez le traiteur. Dine out all you want - but you can't go anywhere upscale. Celebrity-chef establishments are off limits anyway, since the first one was Francois Vatel.

And you might not want to order soup when you're out. Soup bowls, and the rise of individual spoons, came about in late 17th century France. Up until then, diners simply drank soup from bowls. That's normal in Japanese restaurants, but not so much anywhere else. So have fun with that.

Travel:

Kiss your tourist guidebooks goodbye. They were first published in 1690 for foreigners visiting Paris.

Actually, you won't be able to get very far anyway. See, you won't be able to travel by air. The hot air balloon, which kicked off modern aviation, was invented by the Montgolfier brothers, the first human-powered dirigible was invented by Jean-Pierre Blanchard, and although two Southerners tend to hog all the credit, the first machine-powered flight on record was performed in 1890 by Clément Ader. All Frenchmen.

Public transportation is off limits, too. The first public mass transit system (shared carriages running on regular schedules) was invented in Paris, and co-created by famed mathematician Blaise Pascal at that. So no buses, no trains, no trolleys.

You can also forget about driving. The first automobile (albeit a steam-powered one) was invented by Nicolas-Joseph Cugnot. 

Hope your French-hating self can handle riding a bike everywhere! 

Oh, and it goes without saying that greater Los Angeles is permanently closed to you. This blog is about LA’s extensive French and Francophone roots. Modern LA would simply not exist without people like Prudent Beaudry, Remi Nadeau, and the cinema pioneers who made the entertainment industry possible (more on them in a minute). Oh, you’re an actor/model/whatever? Too bad. Suck it up, start walking to New York, and don’t come back. Ever.

Entertainment:

Without streetlights, nightlife as we know it simply would not exist. Operas used to begin in the middle of the afternoon so everyone could get home before it got too dark. Guess how Paris got the nickname City of Light? Because it was the first city to light the streets after dark. Which, in turn, made evening events possible and made nightlife a reality. So you can't go out after dark anymore.

You can never, ever see a movie again. Ever. Without Louis Le Prince, the Lumière brothers, and Georges Méliès, movies simply would not exist. (The LACMA exhibit City of Cinema: Paris 1850-1907, which ends in a few days, provides ample proof of this.) That means no television, either, since motion picture technology made television possible. Watching TV on your laptop or smartphone is still watching TV, so give that up too.

Everything Disney touches is also off limits, including its theme parks. Besides a disproportionate number of Disney princesses being French (Belle, Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty), the Disney family has French roots. "Disney" was originally "D'Isigny", after Isigny-sur-Mer. The fact that Walt Disney's longtime home in Los Feliz was influenced by Norman architecture may not be a coincidence.

Don’t even ask me if you can go to the ballet. The answer should be obvious.

Are you absolutely sure you hate the French? Are you? Because all those nasty, hateful comments sure sound like sour grapes to me.