Four Decades of Service: Maurice Kremer

We've met "Don Solomon" Lazard. Today we'll meet his cousin and onetime business partner.

Maurice Kremer was born in France's Lorraine province in 1824. After a stint in Memphis, he departed for Los Angeles in 1852, taking a steamer from New Orleans to Panama. Kremer walked across the Isthmus (the Panama Canal was 62 years away from opening), then took another steamer to Wilmington via San Francisco.

Upon arrival in Los Angeles, Kremer met up with his cousin Solomon Lazard. They co-founded a dry goods store, Lazard & Kremer, in the old Bell Block. In 1853 the store moved to Mellus' Row, at Los Angeles and Aliso Streets. Aliso Street was a very active business district in the 1850s, and it was near the road that led to El Monte, San Bernardino, and San Gabriel, so Lazard & Kremer did very well for themselves. Kremer's ability to speak French, German, Spanish, and English no doubt helped the cousins conduct business in Los Angeles, which was quickly becoming a multilingual settlement.

In those early days before lawless Los Angeles appealed to bankers, locals still needed secure places to store cash and valuables. Although Lazard & Kremer were merchants,* they were trustworthy citizens and had a safe. They soon faced a new challenge: customers asked to leave their money and jewelry with Lazard & Kremer for safekeeping! Lazard & Kremer obliged (and so did many other Jewish merchants in Western states).

In 1856, Kremer parted with Lazard, going into business with another prominent Jewish family - the Newmarks. Newmark, Kremer, & Co. dealt in wholesale and retail dry goods.

That same year, Kremer married Joseph Newmark's daughter Matilda. Six of the couple's twelve children (Rachel, Emily, Ada, Agnes, Fred, and Abraham) survived infancy.

Kremer was one of the founding members of Congregation B'nai B'rith (still in existence as Wilshire Boulevard Temple). He was also a founding member of the French Benevolent Society and a trustee of the Hebrew Benevolent Society (now known as Jewish Family Service of Los Angeles).

Maurice Kremer served the community in one capacity or another for four decades. He was made County Treasurer in 1860, a position he would hold for five years.

Harris Newmark, who acted as Deputy Treasurer on a volunteer basis (there was no money in the budget for a paid deputy), recalled that "Inasmuch as no bank had as yet been established in Los Angeles, Kremer carried the money to Sacramento twice a year; nor was this transportation of the funds, first by steamer to San Francisco, thence by boat inland, without danger. The State was full of desperate characters who would cut a throat or scuttle a ship for a great deal less than the amount involved."

Newmark added that while the money COULD have been sent via Wells Fargo, thus saving Kremer a long and dangerous trip, the company's fees were much too high at the time. Later on, when Wells Fargo had expanded and lowered their fees, the company took over transporting Los Angeles County's money to Sacramento.

After his term as County Treasurer, Kremer served on the Los Angeles School Board from 1866 to 1875. An 1875 newspaper article (naming Kremer as a Board of Education member) states that there was a motion to "build and furnish a school-house near the French Hospital".

Kremer then served as City Clerk, a position he held for one year.

After that, he served the city as a tax collector for three years.

Kremer later founded a fruit shipping company catering to farmers (the railroads opened up new markets for California produce).

In 1880, the Newmarks sold their insurance interests to Kremer, who co-founded Kremer, Campbell, and Co. In 1889, Kremer, Campbell, & Co. added fire insurance to the services they offered.

Kremer served as Chief Tax Collector of Los Angeles in 1900.

Matilda Newmark Kremer was also community-oriented. She was active in the Ladies' Benevolent Society - so much so that she served as Charter Vice President. Matilda helped found the Temple Union Sewing Circle, which made clothes for the needy, and helped found the Home of Peace Society, which maintained and beautified the city's Jewish cemetery (still called Home of Peace).

Maurice Kremer passed away in 1907. The firm of Kremer, Campbell, & Co. continued to conduct business after his passing.

*Solomon Lazard's other cousins founded Lazard Fréres, which was initially a dry goods import/export business. They eventually got into investment banking. Not only is their firm still in business, you can buy the stock (NYSE: LAZ).

Coming Up: French-Jewish Citizens of Early Los Angeles

I can't stand watching the news anymore.

One of the things that appalls me the most is the rise in anti-Semitism, both in the USA and abroad (I'm especially horrified by a certain congresswoman's hate-spewing). It's become an alarming problem in France - home to the world's third largest Jewish population. So many French (and French-speaking) Jewish people have moved to Los Angeles in recent years that there is a Jewish-French Community Center in Pico-Robertson.

I'm not Jewish, but I am from multicultural Los Angeles. On top of that, I'm from Sherman Oaks. My immediate neighborhood was about 90% Jewish when I was a child (it's slightly more mixed now). It honestly never occurred to me that my neighbors and friends were any different than I was. We celebrated different holidays, but so what? (Our next-door neighbors invited us over on Jewish holidays, and winter holiday parties at my school were equally balanced between Christmas and Hanukkah for obvious reasons.)

I can't stop other people from being hateful, violent, or just plain horrid.

But I can post whatever the hell I want on this blog.

Starting this Friday and going until the last night of Passover (April 26), I will be profiling French-Jewish citizens of Old Los Angeles.

I've previously written about Solomon Lazard, the most trusted man in 1860s Los Angeles. Also, please visit the (online-only) Jewish Museum of the American West.

Stay tuned...

Goodnight from Frenchtown,

C.C.

Arbin Mathieu's Next Chapter

If you're reading this blog, you know who Philippe Mathieu was.

I've mentioned that prior to founding his namesake restaurant (and oh, yeah, inventing the French Dip sandwich), Philippe and his brother Arbin opened the cheekily-named New Poodle Dog restaurant, followed by another white-tablecloth eatery.

I've always wondered what Arbin did after the brothers closed both of their restaurants and Philippe focused on Philippe's. A 1920 picture of the Lanfranco Building provided a clue.

Look closely...

Lanfranco Building (photo from Water and Power)

The third shop front on the ground level - street address number 216 - reads "A. Mathieu French Delicacies".

A. Mathieu? ARBIN Mathieu?

The 1923 city directory confirmed my hunch, listing Arbin Mathieu at 216 N. Main Street - under "Delicacies".

I'm not surprised Arbin stayed in the same line of work. By the early twentieth century, there was certainly more than enough demand for well-prepared food in Los Angeles to keep both brothers in business.

Damien Marchesseault's Death Was Much Weirder Than I Thought

My seventh-grade history teacher made a point of teaching all of his students that "there is no such thing as a 'final history'". As time marches on, new information surfaces, new artifacts are discovered, and improvements in technology allow for more accurate analysis of the facts. (Case in point: many forgeries are only detected centuries later.) This entry's for you, Mr. Lehrer.

If you're reading this blog, you already know Mayor Damien Marchesseault committed suicide - not by shooting himself in the head as is usually reported, but by shooting himself in the face.

It's also commonly reported that he shot himself in an empty City Council chamber.

As it turns out, there are more details. And they're weird enough that I'm scratching my head.

The Los Angeles correspondent for the Daily Alta California went into more detail than the Los Angeles Semi-Weekly News (apart from the fact that the correspondent eliminated the text of Marchesseault's suicide note). I'll break it down:

D. Marchesseault, who has been Mayor of this city for a number of terms, went into the City Marshal's office

The City Marshal's office? Why is "empty City Council chamber" reported elsewhere?

which adjoins the Mayor's office

Why did Marchesseault choose the office next to his?

Also, the City Marshal was a combination of law enforcement officer, tax/license fee collector, and dogcatcher. I'm unaware of any bad blood between Marchesseault and the City Marshal at the time of his death...although Marchesseault's debts might very well have resulted in an inability to pay his taxes or the license on his saloon.

yesterday morning, about seven o'clock, and locking the street door, carefully laid himself upon a table, placing his head upon a cushion, and his feet upon a chair, discharged a pistol, the ball of which entered his head.

I definitely understand why Marchesseault would lock the door. And this detail explains why a different newspaper account refers to Marchesseault's suicide note being on a table next to him. But still, this is just plain weird. Why lie down on a table, feet on a chair?

 The report of the pistol was heard, but caused no alarm, as it was supposed to have been fired in the rear of the building. 

As bizarre as this sounds to modern-day Angelenos, gunfire was a common sound in 1860s Los Angeles. It was a Wild West town with the highest murder rate in the United States, and even peaceful people carried guns for protection (Harris Newmark, who had never owned a gun before emigrating to Los Angeles, recalled using an abandoned adobe for target practice).

 Between eight and nine o'clock in the morning, when he was discovered, he was lying on his back with one arm folded on his breast and the pistol in the hand of the other: there was no appearance that a single muscle had moved after the firing of the fatal shot.

Maybe I watch too many police procedurals, but this doesn't seem quite right. Normally, when someone shoots themselves, they drop the gun.

The rest of the Daily Alta California article contains no new information, so I won't reiterate it here.

I'm a firm believer in logic and reason. And I know I'm prone to overanalyzing everything. BUT...

The suicide location differs from most reports.

The Mayor positioning himself on a table, feet on a chair, doesn't make any sense.

And he somehow managed to not drop the gun after killing himself.

Couple that with the fact that Marchesseault isn't on the official list of former mayors (in spite of SIX terms) and the circumstances of the Mayor's death are weirder than I ever would have guessed.

Gaston Méliès Comes to Hollywood...Err, Santa Paula

(Huge thanks to Santa Paula historian Mitch Stone for his help in researching this entry. Merci, Mitch!)

Any serious film buff knows who Georges Méliès was.

Most aren't aware that Georges' brother Gaston also made films - more than 200 in total.

Very few know that Gaston made films in the Ventura County town of Santa Paula.

Poster for "Wanted - A Wife"; staged in front of the Santa Paula train depot (which looks much the same way now as it did then). Published in Motion Picture World. Picture courtesy of Mitch Stone.

Content infringement has always been a problem for creative people, and the silent-film era was no exception. After the family shoe factory shut down, Georges Méliès sent his brother Gaston to America to help protect his films from copyright violation.

Gaston arrived in New York in 1903, setting up an American subsidiary of Georges' Star Film Company. But by 1908, Gaston was trying his hand at making his own films.

French audiences of the time were very interested in the American West (I'm not sure if this had anything to do with the sheer number of French expats and their descendants in California). Gaston was the first filmmaker on record to shoot on location in Texas, mostly filming Westerns. But after a year or so, he followed other filmmakers' migration to California.

Gaston moved Star Film Company's American studio to 7th and Main Streets in Santa Paula in 1911, also residing on the site. (Currently at 7th and Main: the Santa Paula Theatre Center.) Again, he mostly produced Western films. Of the 50 or so short films Gaston produced in Santa Paula, only two are known to survive.

In 1913, Gaston decamped to Tahiti to make the first of many silent short films shot in exotic locations. Besides Tahiti, he produced films in New Zealand, Australia, Java, Singapore, Cambodia, and Japan.

Unfortunately, much of the film was damaged before it could be processed in the United States. Of the 238 films produced by Gaston, only about 60 came from his filmmaking expedition to the South Pacific and Far East.

After the location-shooting expedition ruined his health and nearly bankrupted him, Gaston returned to Santa Paula for long enough to sell his studio/residence. He then returned to France. Supposedly, Georges (who was ruined financially by Gaston's travels) never spoke to him again.

Just two years later, the Santa Paula Chronicle reported on Gaston's death from typhoid fever in Corsica.

In 2015, French documentarian Raphael Millet directed Gaston Méliès and His Wandering Star Film Company. The documentary focuses primarily on Gaston's filmmaking excursion to the South Pacific and Far East. (Does anyone have a copy I could borrow? My usual sources for obscure film don't have it.)

Gaston Méliès is nearly forgotten today. Perhaps it's time for a well-publicized screening of Millet's documentary?

The Frenchwoman Who Built the Italian Hall

Frenchtown had a longstanding friendship with Los Angeles' Little Italy. In fact, the Italian Hall was built by a Frenchwoman.

Miss Marie Madeline Ruellan, a Parisian by birth, sailed for California on the Guiding Star in the summer of 1868 at the age of 22. In 1869 or 1870 (sources disagree), she married Henry Hammel, a German immigrant who owned the United States Hotel (he also had a large vineyard). The couple's only child, Mathilde, was born in 1875.

Henry Hammel passed away in 1890, leaving his $400,000 estate to Marie and 15-year-old Mathilde.

Marie was active in charitable work and known for her kindness to orphans, but she shunned attention. When Mathilde married and had a family of her own, Marie lived with them and spent much of her time with her three grandchildren.

Marie's sizable inheritance included a parcel of land on the Plaza. Frank Arconti, who had owned the land before Henry Hammel and Isaias Hellman bought it, encouraged her to build on the site. Marie commissioned a two-story brick building (from Italian-owned Pozzo Construction), intended to serve the growing Italian community.

Like the nearby Garnier Building, the new Italian Hall served multiple community needs. Italian-owned businesses filled the ground floor. The second floor hosted musical and theatrical performances and provided a home for the Garibaldina Mutual Benefit Society (a health-and-welfare safety net for members) as well as social organizations like the Italian Workers' Club. Today, the restored Italian Hall houses the Italian American Museum of Los Angeles. (Read more here and scroll down a bit for a picture of Marie.)

Marie Madeline Ruellan Hammel died of heart failure in 1913 at age 71. She is buried at Calvary Cemetery with her mother.

The French Roadhouse That Became Hollywood's First Film Studio

The film and television industry owes an immeasurable debt to French innovators.

The very first motion-picture camera was invented by a Frenchman - Louis Le Prince.

Although Thomas Edison gets much of the credit for early moving pictures, it was the Lumière brothers who invented the cinematograph. The cinematograph, a combination camera and projector, was the first device to make screenings for more than one viewer possible. (Gaston and Auguste Lumière both have stars on the Walk of Fame, although Auguste's is spelled incorrectly. An earlier and very different cinematograph was invented by another Frenchman, Léon Bouly, who sold the name and patent to the brothers.)

Cinema as a whole owes a great many things to Georges Méliès. Not only did Méliès build the first film studio on record anywhere, he pioneered the stop trick, time-lapse, dissolves, multiple exposures, and hand-tinting. Disney* gets most of the credit for storyboards, but Méliès is known to have used them to plan visual effects. His best-known films A Trip to the Moon and The Impossible Voyage are among the earliest science fiction and fantasy films on record. (Méliès never came to California, but his brother Gaston did. More on him soon. Also, why does Méliès not have a star on the Walk of Fame?!)

The world's first film company, Gaumont, still exists today and is still headquartered in France.

The Pathé brothers created the world's largest film equipment and production company and invented the newsreel. My Baby Boomer readers might recall seeing "Color by Pathé" in the credits of some of their favorite TV shows.

You get the idea. In order for Hollywood as we know it to exist, French inventors had to exist first.

But in the earlier days of Hollywood, back when it was a very different sort of artists' colony, there was a roadhouse owned by a Frenchman. That roadhouse played a role in changing everything.

René Blondeau was from Normandy, a region of France known more for hard apple cider than for wine. Blondeau's Tavern, built in 1892, stood on Sunset Boulevard near Gower Street.

René Blondeau passed away in 1902. The town of Hollywood, which had not yet been absorbed by Los Angeles, went dry in 1904. The roadhouse was no longer a viable business, and Blondeau's Tavern sat empty for years.

In 1911, filmmakers David Horsley and Al Christie came to town in search of a home for their Nestor Motion Picture Company. Cinema was still in its infancy, and Hollywood residents thought filmmakers were crazy. There were other filmmakers in the LA area, but none in sleepy little Hollywood.

Two stories are told about how Nestor Motion Picture Company found its new home. Either a local photographer introduced Horsley to Marie Blondeau, or a real estate agent knew about the property. In either case, René Blondeau's widow Marie did indeed rent the long-vacant roadhouse to Christie and Horsley.

Blondeau's Tavern, with some alterations, was well suited to an early studio. The roadhouse's large bar area became the carpentry shop, the private dining rooms became offices and stars' dressing rooms, and the less fortunate performers had makeshift dressing rooms in the barn's horse stalls (the barn also doubled as the prop cage). The orange grove and tropical plants in the roadhouse's back garden made a lovely backdrop for outdoor scenes (unfortunately oranges tended to appear pitch-black on early film), and a stage was constructed behind the roadhouse.

The day after renting the tavern, Horsley and Christie began shooting The Law of the Range, starring Harold Lockwood. (Although Lockwood died in New York, last year's Halloween and Mourning tour of Heritage Square featured a tableau of Lockwood's 1918 funeral. He is, to my knowledge, the only movie actor to have died in the Spanish flu pandemic.)

If you're wondering why you haven't heard of Nestor, don't feel too bad for them. Nestor was acquired by Universal in 1912.

The tavern is a very distant memory today. The Gower Gulch shopping center, which is themed like a Western town, now stands across the street. (Bringing the whole story full circle, the French love classic American Westerns.)

René Blondeau, fittingly, is buried among later Hollywood legends at Hollywood Forever Cemetery.

*Yes, Walt Disney had French ancestry. I'll get to him.