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.

Bastille Day in Old LA

On this day in 1789, the French Revolution began.

I an pretty open about having a complicated relationship with La Fête Nationale/Bastille Day. My dad is a descendant of an earlier French monarch, which makes both Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette my very distant cousins. My mom's family comes from centuries of French peasant stock.

Still, I wish I could take a time machine to Old LA on this day. The French community put on quite a Bastille Day celebration.

In fact, it used to be a pretty big deal in LA.

Los Angeles Herald, 1881

One of the earliest references I can find lists the parade route: Aliso to Arcadia, Main to the Plaza, then to Spring, Spring to Second, Second to Fort (Broadway), Fort to Fourth, Fourth to Main, Main to the junction with Spring, and to the Turnverein Hall for speeches. "A representation of the Bastille" (i.e. a very early parade float) was included in the procession.

This route would have effectively started in the French Colony, gone to the Plaza, doubled back and wound through downtown, ending up where the Convention Center parking lot is today. For comparison, the Rose Parade follows a roughly 5.5 mile route.

Two of the speakers were Pascal Ganée and Georges Le Mesnager, who was quite well known for his speeches! More on that in a minute. 

Bastille Day 1881 concluded with a banquet at the Pico House, prepared under one of LA's early celebrity chefs, Victor Dol.

On this day in 1882, the festivities began with a 21-gun salute at sunrise from Fort Hill. The Mayor, the President of the City Council, "delegates from fire companies and civil societies", French citizens of varying prominence, and a beauty queen - the Goddess of Liberty - all made appearances.

The Goddess of Liberty chosen for the event, by the way, happened to be 14-year-old Narcisse Sentous, eldest daughter of Jean Sentous. She was carried in a "Car of Liberty" with several maids of honor, all girls from the French Colony.

Los Angeles Herald, 1882 (snippet of much longer article)

The parade procession was big enough to have two divisions, both made up of prominent citizens and local societies. Besides the Car of Liberty, another car had Marie Deleval representing France, Mathilde Reynaud representing the United States, Honoré Penelon (eight-year-old son of the late Henri Penelon) dressed as the Marquis de Lafayette, and ten-year-old Auguste Lemasne dressed as George Washington. Rounding up the rear were citizens riding donkeys in tribute to the city's butchers.

Eugene Meyer, the "President of the Day" (i.e. Grand Marshal) and then-Agent for the French consulate, gave a speech in French and introduced Frank Howard (who gave a quick history lesson on Bastille Day in English). "The Star-Spangled Banner" was sung, the band played, "La Marseillaise" was sung, and Georges Le Mesnager gave a speech in French.

And that wasn't all. A large model of the Bastille had been built on Fort Hill. After the sun went down, it was stormed and set on fire. (Good thing two fire companies were there!)

The day concluded with a party at Armory Hall.

In 1886, the French Colony invited the editor of the Los Angeles Herald to attend the Bastille Day celebration. He had a prior commitment in Long Beach that day, but thanked the French Colony in the newspaper.

Los Angeles Herald, 1886

The newspaper did still cover the event, of course. 

In spite of a half-hour rainstorm (an extreme rarity during a Southern California summer), the parade went on, although many people who had planned to join the parade waited inside the French Theatre for the rest of the day's events. The President of the Day was Jean-Louis Sainsevain this time - and again, one of the last speeches was given by Georges Le Mesnager.

The biggest celebration of them all was held in 1889 - the 100th anniversary of the French Republic. Besides the usual festivities, an extravagant banquet and ball was held at the Pico House, then owned by Pascal Ballade and renamed the National Hotel. The speech Georges Le Mesnager gave on this day was particularly well remembered by French Angelenos - and you can read most of it (thoughtfully translated into English by the Los Angeles Herald) here.

Los Angeles Herald, 1891.

An interesting footnote to the 1891 celebration is that one of the vocalists was J.P. Goytino, who despite having some musical talent was also a highly problematic newspaper editor/slumlord/all-around dirtbag.  Goytino is perhaps most notorious for stopping issuance of a marriage license five years later when his extremely wealthy father-in-law, Joseph Mascarel, sought to legally marry his common-law second wife. (He needn't have bothered; Mascarel left most of his fortune to his grandchildren from his first marriage.) I could do a pretty ugly deep dive on Goytino, but David Kimbrough already did a very thorough one on Facebook (warning: it's a 12-parter).

Los Angeles Herald, 1900

Los Angeles Herald, 1901

Los Angeles Herald, 1908

Los Angeles Herald, 1908

By 1908, Bastille Day was a big enough celebration that it was held at Chutes Park - and pyrotechnics were part of the event (no gunfire here!).

Los Angeles Daily Times, 1926

By 1926, two thousand French Angelenos were coming to the Bastille Day celebration. That evening's grand ball was a fundraiser for the French Society for the French War Orphans - and hosted by Felix Clavere.

Los Angeles Daily News, 1930

Hollywood Citizen-News, 1940

Bastille Day took on a somber significance in 1940, with two-thirds of the country having fallen under Nazi control. The following year, the Colony was nearly as divided as France, but everyone agreed that a big party wasn't appropriate during a time of war. Supporters of the Free French (who accounted for most of the Colony), believing France would rise again, had their own event at the Riverside Breakfast Club. Supporters of the Vichy government spent the day in mourning.

Los Angeles Daily News, 1941

In 1943, Capt. Paul Perigord addressed the United Nations Committee at the Hotel Clark. His keynote? "France is rising again." While there understandably doesn't seem to have been a celebration, the Fighting French tricolor flag was flown from City Hall's flagpole. (In case anyone needs to be reminded: the French are fierce fighters.)

Los Angeles Times, 1943

Los Angeles Times, 1946

Los Angeles Times, 1947

After the war, Bastille Day was back - and hosted by the Los Angeles Breakfast Club! 

Two years later, Bastille Day was marked by a flag ceremony at City Hall.

Los Angeles Daily News, 1949

Los Angeles Times, 1951

Hollywood Citizen-News, 1952

Los Angeles Times, 1957

Highland Park News-Herald and Journal, 1957

Los Angeles Times, 1960

Bastille Day was a big enough event to merit an annual flag ceremony at City Hall and draw a crowd of thousands to the Colony’s celebration. That certainly isn't the case now, and I fully expect Mayor Garcetti to ignore Bastille Day again, as Mayors of Los Angeles have tended to do for years.

What happened? 

Bastille Day fell on a Sunday in 1968. 

Any city employees involved in the ceremony would have had to come in on their day off, and overtime pay would have more than doubled the usual cost of the ceremony. The City Council didn't want to pay for it, voted against increasing the budget, wanted to scrap the ceremony entirely, and Councilman Wilkinson sniped "you ought to remember what France has done to us in the past year or two". 

French Consul General Gerard Peres put an end to the uproar by canceling the ceremony himself "so that City Hall personnel will not lose a day off and municipal expenses will not be increased at a time of financial difficulties". 

Mayor Sam Yorty sent Peres an official apology for the Council's rudeness, and the French tricolor did still fly alongside the US flag in the Civic Center.

At one of my lectures, I was asked when the last Bastille Day parade was held. I can't be 100 percent certain when the parade was retired, but the last time the city officially acknowledged Bastille Day at all (although wordlessly flying a flag barely counts) seems to have been in 1968.

Knowing that the flag ceremony was retired for budgetary reasons, when the city now spends a fortune lighting up City Hall in different colors for just about everything, is pretty irritating. There is no liberté, egalité, or fraternité in regards to what the city chooses to consider important enough to recognize.

Have a good Fête Nationale anyway, dear readers!

A Brief History of Philippe Mathieu and the French Dip

Neon blade sign at Philippe the Original.

Philippe Mathieu started out working in a deli in his native France. By the time he retired, he'd invented a quintessential LA dish that has been imitated many, many times - but never really duplicated. (Give it up, Cole's - no one believes you. More on that in a minute.)

After a stint owning a deli on Alameda, Philippe and his brother Arbin opened the New Poodle Dog restaurant on Spring Street in 1911 (if it existed today, it would be just southwest of City Hall). The name was likely a tongue-in-cheek reference to the Old Poodle Dog restaurant in San Francisco. The New Poodle Dog closed in 1913, and the Mathieu brothers opened another white-tablecloth restaurant on Alameda Street just south of Aliso Street - the heart of Frenchtown.

Frenchtown had more than a few nicer French restaurants, however, and Philippe had a talent for simpler, but still well-prepared, food. Philippe opened his namesake restaurant on Alameda Street, south of Temple, in 1908. If it existed today, it would be firmly in the middle of Little Tokyo, but at the time, it was the center of Frenchtown's original core.

Philippe's customers often referred to him as "Frenchy", and took to calling the restaurant "Frenchy's".

You know where this is going, right?

Philippe moved his eatery to 246 Aliso Street (south of Los Angeles Street) in 1918 (again, still in Frenchtown's original footprint). That year, he began serving the sandwich we now call the French Dip.

The story of how the sandwich came to be invented varies, depending on who told it and when. I won't rehash any of the origin stories here, but I will refer you to Eater LA's commentary on a Thrillist piece examining who really invented the French Dip. (Read both. Trust me.)

I'll add a little food for thought (pun intended) to both publications' conclusions (spoiler alert: the evidence gives Philippe's a stronger and far more logical claim): imitators typically pale in comparison to originators. Every so often, someone (food blogger, local magazine, travel writer) will sample both, or ask local eaters for their pick of the two French Dips. Philippe's always wins taste tests easily and always wins polls by a landslide.

By the way, I have no personal stake in this and can't offer a firsthand opinion on either version of the sandwich (I don't eat meat). I do, however, believe in giving credit where credit is due.

Philippe packed up and moved up the street (to 364 Aliso) in 1925. But he, personally, didn't stay for very long.

Philippe (whose grandson described him to the LA Times as frugal) had promised his wife that he'd retire when he turned 50. He did indeed retire in 1927 at age 50, selling the restaurant to the Martin brothers and moving back to France with his wife.

But the restaurant, by far one of the very oldest in Los Angeles, had one more move to make. Freeway construction forced Philippe's to relocate to its present location, just north of Union Station on the southern edge of Chinatown.

Los Angeles Magazine recently explored how to correctly pronounce the restaurant's name. What they don't seem to notice is that pronunciation seems to vary based on the speaker's background. Philippe's grandson uses the French pronunciation (no surprise here), and Emeril Lagasse isn't TOO far off. Most Angelenos who didn't grow up speaking French use the Hispanicized pronunciation "Felipe's".

It's worth noting, of course, that many early Angelenos adopted, or at least sometimes used, Spanish versions of their names. To give just a few examples from Frenchtown: Louis Bauchet was typically listed in records as Luis, Jean-Louis Vignes was "Don Luis del Aliso", Pierre Sainsevain was commonly referred to as "Don Pedro", and Henri Penelon was often called "Horacio" or "Honore". Mispronouncing "Philippe" as "Felipe" is, in a way, fitting for one of LA's oldest restaurants.

(In the interest of full disclosure, my parents used to go to Philippe the Original on dates.)

We're Still Here, Part 5: The Natural History Museum

It may seem odd to some of my readers that the Natural History Museum of Los Angeles County would have, let alone display, anything related to the city's French community. The words "Natural History Museum" tend to conjure up images of rocks, dinosaur bones, and dioramas of taxidermy wildlife. (Yes, the museum has plenty of those things too, but that's beside the point.)

When it opened in 1913, the Natural History Museum of Los Angeles County was named the Museum of History, Science, and Art (Le Guide calls it "our County Museum", and I'm sure I don't need to point out that Los Angeles' population was about the same size as Anaheim's is today). The museum's art department spun off into the Los Angeles County Museum of Art (LACMA) and moved to Wilshire Boulevard in 1965. Today, the Museum's emphasis is firmly on science, but our history remains - in the "Becoming Los Angeles" exhibit.

And there are some nice surprises in store for French Angelenos.

General John C. Frémont is said to have signed the treaty ending the Mexican-American War at this humble kitchen table.

Jean-Louis Vignes' brandy still and strainer

The father of French migration to California used this brandy still and strainer. They're intact (if slightly battered) and safe in a glass case. I'm amazed these humble items survived when so much of our history has been demolished, paved over, renamed, or actively erased.

Charles Ducommun's scales and shotgun

Charles Ducommun was a half-blind smallpox survivor when he loaded up a donkey with as much as it could carry and WALKED from Arkansas to California, with this shotgun for protection. Incredibly, in spite of his reduced eyesight, the Swiss-born, French-speaking Ducommun continued to ply his trade as a watchmaker, opening a combination jewelry/hardware store. Ducommun's store grew into Ducommun Industries, a defense/aerospace supplier and California's oldest corporation.

I can't even tell you how much time I spent staring into that case, in awe of the fact that California's oldest corporation began with that tiny set of jeweler's scales.

Original log pipe, wrapped in heavy-duty wire

Jean-Louis Sainsevain and the ill-fated Mayor Damien Marchesseault tried to solve LA's water problems with pipes made from hollow logs. It backfired horribly (over and over...), but at least their struggle is remembered in the Museum. (The artifact information doesn't list them by name, but at least there's a surviving log pipe on display. And if you're reading this blog, you probably already know I'm used to this sort of thing. Still...this would make a GREAT segment on Mysteries at the Museum.)

Feliciana Yndart, painted by Henri Penelon

In the 1950s, Henri Penelon's granddaughter took two of his paintings to the Museum to donate them.  Less than a century after his death, no one at the Museum had any idea who he was. I can only imagine how badly that must have stung.

Don Vicente Lugo, painted by Henri Penelon

Today, the Museum's Seaver Center for Western History Research owns thirteen of Penelon's surviving paintings. I wasn't expecting to see any of them on display and yet...there they were!

Don Francisco Sepulveda, painted by Henri Penelon

I have yet to visit the Seaver Center, but will be reaching out to them to do further research.

Animator's desk, chair, and multiplane camera - developed by Walt Disney

Few people realize that Walt Disney had French ancestry. "Disney" is a corruption of "D'Isigny", after Isigny-sur-Mer in Normandy. I have never considered it a coincidence that Disney's Los Feliz home was influenced by traditional Norman architecture.

And then there's the city model.

Built in the 1930s as a WPA project, the model is an amazing tool for seeing what downtown looked like before freeways sliced right through Frenchtown (and a couple of Beaudry tracts). 

Do note that the street we now call "Paseo de la Plaza" was labeled "Sunset Boulevard" on the model. You read it here first: Marchesseault Street was (at one point) renamed Sunset Boulevard.

Beaudry Avenue on the model.

Pershing Square as it appeared before that hideous redesign in the 1950s.
Do note the tiny Doughboy statue in the upper right corner.

Sadly not on display: a portrait of Therese Bry Henriot, who emigrated from French-speaking Switzerland, married a French-born gardener, and established LA's first French-language private school. (Le Guide makes reference to Mme. Henriot's portrait hanging in the Museum. I can only presume it was moved to storage long ago.)

Nonetheless...can you imagine the tears of joy that seeing this exhibit brought to this French/Quebecois/Anglo-Norman Angeleno's eyes? (Who am I kidding? I'm crying as I write this.) For the first time in my life, I felt represented and acknowledged in my hometown. I have argued that we deserve our own museum (and my position on the matter isn't going to change), but just for one afternoon, it was as if the city had tapped my shoulder and whispered into my ear "I hear you".

We're Still Here, Part 4: Ramona

There are two key areas of Southern California that actually treat their French roots with respect. The first, as I've mentioned, is the San Fernando Valley.

The second - and virtually no outsider knows this - is the tiny town of Ramona.

Situated in northeastern San Diego County, Ramona is an unincorporated town named after Helen Hunt Jackson's famous novel. (By the way, getting there can be a challenge. It's well off the beaten path, and some of the highway signage is confusing and/or missing. Do yourself a HUGE favor and take Highway 67 through Poway. The 78 SEEMS shorter and more direct, but trust me, it's not.)

The town was previously called Nuevo. But don't let the Spanish names fool you - Ramona's deepest roots are heavily French.

Like many other French families who came to Los Angeles, the Verlaque family moved farther afield in search of land. They raised sheep in San Diego, and by 1886 were making a good enough living to build themselves a little place out in the country.

This house - the Verlaque family's country retreat - was the first permanent building in the Ramona area. 

It's also the only known example of a French Colonial house built out of adobe.

The town of Ramona clearly respects its French pioneers.

When Henri Penelon painted the rebuilt Old Plaza Church, he was assisted by 21-year-old Bernard Etcheverry, who had just arrived from France. As you can see, Bernard and his family eventually settled in Ramona.

I should note that the Guy B. Woodward Museum, housed in the Verlaque adobe, does NOT allow photography. I was granted special permission to photograph two items in the museum because they are original to the Verlaque family.

This soup tureen belonged to Elizabeth Verlaque and was used in this house.

To the untrained eye, this might LOOK like any fireplace you'd find in an adobe house's kitchen...

Theophile Verlaque, however, had the roasting spit custom made (in Paris!) for the house. It has a built-in mechanical timer to ensure perfectly cooked meat. What can I say? Even way back in 1886...even in a humble country retreat...we like our food cooked perfectly (and I don't even eat meat).

The Verlaques, like most French families, buried their dead in the local Catholic cemetery. However, San Diego's Calvary Cemetery was turned into Mission Hills Park (previously called Pioneer Park) in the 1970s. They took out the tombstones, but not the bodies (I wonder if Pioneer Park might have been the inspiration for Poltergeist...incidentally, San Diego has quite a long history of flagrantly disrespecting its dead). In any case, two of the Verlaque family's tombstones were salvaged (most of the tombstones were simply thrown into a ditch on the edge of the "park") and can now be found outside the house.

The Etcheverry family home exists only in memories (if I had to take a guess as to why, I'd say it might have something to do with the fact that San Diego County's backcountry is prone to brush fires). But, a few miles south of the Verlaque house, Etcheverry Street still bears the family's name.

We're Still Here, Part 1: Olvera Street and LA's Old Pueblo

The acknowledged foremost authority on Frenchtown, Helene Demeestre, has called at least one of her Frenchtown lectures "Without a Trace".

With all due respect to Dr. Demeestre, if you can't find traces of Frenchtown in modern-day Los Angeles, you haven't looked hard enough by a LONG shot.

Recently, I was fortunate to get a Saturday off work and spent it exploring the old Pueblo and nearby Chinatown. This is what you'll find if you make the same trip.

Damien Marchesseault, progressive six-term mayor, is remembered in a plaque outside the Biscailuz building. (Am I alone in thinking it's weird that the plaque is in English and Spanish, but seems to be missing a French translation?) The inscription references the nearest street being named after Marchesseault, which it was. However (insult to injury here), Marchesseault Street was renamed Paseo de la Plaza sometime after this plaque was installed. Oh, and the dates of his mayoral terms are highly inaccurate. (Even in death, Marchesseault gets no respect.)

Rest in peace, Mr. Mayor. And this plaque should really have a French translation...

Union Station, opposite the Pueblo. If Marchesseault Street still existed, it would lead right to Union Station's front doors.

Plaque outside the Garnier building. At a time when the United States government didn't believe Asians were human beings and anti-Chinese sentiments ran high, Philippe Garnier built this building specifically to rent to Chinese tenants (the Chinese-American community used this building continuously from 1890 to 1953). Today, it is the last surviving relic of LA's original Chinatown. (The plaque is in English and Chinese, but once again, missing a French translation.) 

Plaque on the wall of the Garnier building.

Do note the "P. Garnier 1890" relief.

LA's oldest Masonic hall. Sources disagree on whether Jean-Louis Sainsevain was grand master of LA's oldest lodge or not. We do know, however, that Judge Julius Brousseau was a high-ranking Mason.

The Pico House doesn't seem that big when you're right in front of it, but it looks enormous from across the plaza. French hotelier Pascale Ballade owned the Pico House for a time and threw the centennial to end all centennials here when the French Republic turned 100 in 1892.

Brunswig building (do not confuse with Brunswig Square in Little Tokyo) on the left, Garnier block (do not confuse with Garnier building) on right.

Garnier Block.

Brunswig building.

Inside the Garnier building, which now houses the Chinese American Museum.

There are too many clues to list, but there is plenty of hard evidence that much of old Chinatown was part of a French neighborhood first.

Back view of Garnier building. The building was much larger many years ago - only the last sections on the right are original.

Biscailuz building. Eugene Biscailuz, of French Basque extraction, was a respected lawman for many years in LA, and helped establish the California Highway Patrol.

La Placita and its unforgivably ugly faux-Byzantine mosaic. Up until the late 1930s, that exact spot contained LA's first public art - a mural of the Madonna and Child. The mosaic went up in 1981. (Somewhere, Henri Penelon is quietly crying into a glass of Sainsevain Brothers wine.) Oh, and let's not forget that La Placita's first TWO resident priests were from France!

And now...prepare for the shock of a lifetime.

As of this writing, if you visit the old Avila Adobe on Olvera Street, you just might stumble upon something unexpected...

...an exhibit about the struggle for water services in early LA.

I had no idea it was even there. It's not advertised, and most of it is gated off. But the first part, which concerns the Sainsevains, Beaudrys, Solomon Lazard, Mayor Marchesseault (etc.), was open.

Water permit signed by water overseer and mayor Damien Marchesseault.

Jean-Louis Sainsevain - engineer and Marchesseault's business partner.

Early map showing the old water system.

Jean-Louis Sainsevain's water wheel, feeding water into the Sainsevain Reservoir (now a closed-off old park called Radio Hill Gardens).

How it worked.

Dr. John Griffin (an Anglo with a background in public health), Prudent Beaudry (French Canadian), and Solomon Lazard (French) - partners in the Los Angeles City Water Company. Many of the LACWC's early employees were French as well.

You had NO idea. did you? Most Angelenos don't.

The old Plaza with the original LACWC building - fittingly located on Marchesseault Street.

Bauchet Street, near Union Station. You know who Louis Bauchet is.

Philippe the Original! Don't worry, I will write about Philippe Mathieu in the future. This is not the location where the French dip sandwich was invented (that one was torn down for development purposes), but on a personal note, my parents used to go on dates here.

Classic neon sign at Philippe's.

Corner of Mesnager Street and Naud Street. You had NO idea this was here, did you?

So as you can see...we haven't really vanished "without a trace", as Dr. Demeestre puts it. There is a wealth of clues. You just have to spend some time looking for them.