There was a time when fresh food was rather costly in Los Angeles. The pueblo was hot and dusty, the river periodically burst its banks and flooded, and your neighbor just might illegally divert water from a zanja for their own use. Los Angeles traded with San Bernardino for eggs, crackers, and other foods, but the long and hot wagon trip often meant food was well on its way to spoiling by the time it arrived.
If you had a talent for growing fresh fruit and vegetables, you could make a good living.
André Briswalter arrived in the Pueblo from Alsace in the early 1850s. He rented a plot of land on San Pedro Street, planted vegetables, and sold them door-to-door in a wheelbarrow. With high demand for fresh food and limited competition, he could charge whatever the market would bear.
Briswalter made so much money that he was soon able to buy his own plot of land, followed by a horse and wagon.
André Briswalter planted an orchard in a plot bordered by present-day Main Street, Ninth Street, Los Angeles Street, and Olympic. When I mapped the site I was shocked to realize I knew the area quite well. The California Market Center (my professors informally called it "the Mart") now stands on the site. I couldn't even begin to list how many times I went there as a young design student. Briswalter's fruit trees are long gone, of course, as is the house on the land (where he spent his last years).
Briswalter had another orchard, south of what is now the Wholesale Produce Market. He also began to grow nuts. City directories list Briswalter's longtime home at Washington and Main.
André Briswalter eventually owned a great deal of City and County property, notably much of present-day Playa del Rey.
Briswalter was active socially, belonging to Knights of Pythias Lodge 79, better known as "La Fraternité" due to the lodge being composed of French speakers and conducting everything in French.
André Briswalter died of blood poisoning in 1885. A large cemetery chapel was built at Old Calvary Cemetery in his honor and served as his burial site.
Briswalter left behind an estate valued at $375.407.76 - nearly $11 million in 2020 dollars. (His land holdings, of course, would be much more valuable today due to the higher demand for land in Los Angeles.) That estate was willed to a veritable 'who's who' of 1880s Los Angeles - Isaias Hellman, Henry Hammel, W.H. Denker, Rev. Peter Verdagner, Mary Agnes Christina Mesmer, Louis Mesmer, Mary Collins, and Alice Briswalter Meit.
The will was contested by Caledonia Guirado, who claimed that she had been married to the elder André Briswalter and that he was the father of her son Andre. Investigation showed that ten years before Briswalter died, she had married someone else and had five children with him. She had several other children by what one newspaper politely called "three other irregular connections". The matter took nearly two years to sort out in court, with a jury ruling that Ms. Guirado was not André Briswalter's wife and the boy was not his son. (Sound familiar?)
Regular readers may recall that Tina Mesmer inherited money and land from Briswalter, who was a friend of her father's (curiously, she was the only Mesmer child included in the will). This became a problem after she married Griffith J. Griffith, who would eventually falsely accuse her of poisoning Briswalter and attempting to poison him.
In 1915, St. Peter's Italian Church moved into Briswalter's old chapel, having outgrown a smaller church on North Spring Street (much of modern-day Chinatown was Little Italy then). By 1943, the parish had outgrown Briswalter's chapel and was raising money for a new church.
Ironically, St. Peter's didn't tear down André Briswalter's chapel. They didn't have to - a terrible fire destroyed the building. The current St. Peter's opened its doors in 1947.
It isn't clear if André Briswalter's remains were destroyed in the fire, reinterred at New Calvary, or if they remain onsite at St. Peter's.
An immigrant prospers...his considerable estate is contested...a phony heir pops up...everything he owned or built is long gone...and for extra fun, it's unclear where he's buried. Yep...it's another day in Frenchtown.
Friday, August 7, 2020
Friday, July 17, 2020
Next Webinar 8/2: French Angelenos and Early LA's Water Struggle
Every Angeleno knows William Mulholland is credited with bringing water to Los Angeles.
Few, if any, are aware that for about forty years, French and French-Canadian Angelenos fought hard to bring safer and more reliable water to the growing city.
Some of those battles ended in muddy sinkholes. One of them ended in a scandalous death. And one of them ultimately prevailed, successfully creating the forerunner for the modern-day Department of Water and Power. (And they managed to do it without stealing water from struggling Native American farmers. Just saying.)
Join me on Sunday, August 2, at noon to learn about these remarkable Angelenos and their efforts - successful and not - to provide water to the City of Angels. Tickets are affordably priced at just $5.
Few, if any, are aware that for about forty years, French and French-Canadian Angelenos fought hard to bring safer and more reliable water to the growing city.
Some of those battles ended in muddy sinkholes. One of them ended in a scandalous death. And one of them ultimately prevailed, successfully creating the forerunner for the modern-day Department of Water and Power. (And they managed to do it without stealing water from struggling Native American farmers. Just saying.)
Join me on Sunday, August 2, at noon to learn about these remarkable Angelenos and their efforts - successful and not - to provide water to the City of Angels. Tickets are affordably priced at just $5.
Sunday, July 5, 2020
Forgotten French LA Virtual Tour 7/12
Back in March, I canceled and refunded all Lost French LA tours through mid-April. I had hoped to be giving tours again by June at the latest.
Obviously, that hasn't happened. Between the latest spike in coronavirus cases, clashes between protestors and police (the tour route passes close to City Hall and I do NOT want a tour guest getting hurt), and air quality taking a very steep dive from heavy fireworks usage and resulting fires, I don't know when I'll be able to do a walking tour again.
But I do have seven years of notes, lots of pictures, and Zoom installed on my laptop. And I can show you around, so to speak, from my living room.
Join me next Sunday, July 12, at noon (Pacific Standard Time) for a virtual visit to Forgotten French Los Angeles. It's not quite the Bastille Day parades that French Angelenos used to have, but I believe a virtual celebration is better than none.
Tickets are available here. Since so many people have limited funds right now, I'm pricing tickets at just $5 for this webinar only. That way anyone can afford to attend.
See you next Sunday on Zoom!
Obviously, that hasn't happened. Between the latest spike in coronavirus cases, clashes between protestors and police (the tour route passes close to City Hall and I do NOT want a tour guest getting hurt), and air quality taking a very steep dive from heavy fireworks usage and resulting fires, I don't know when I'll be able to do a walking tour again.
But I do have seven years of notes, lots of pictures, and Zoom installed on my laptop. And I can show you around, so to speak, from my living room.
Join me next Sunday, July 12, at noon (Pacific Standard Time) for a virtual visit to Forgotten French Los Angeles. It's not quite the Bastille Day parades that French Angelenos used to have, but I believe a virtual celebration is better than none.
Tickets are available here. Since so many people have limited funds right now, I'm pricing tickets at just $5 for this webinar only. That way anyone can afford to attend.
See you next Sunday on Zoom!
Sunday, June 21, 2020
Ten Highball Glasses and Seven Cafés de Paris
I was practically raised in antique stores, and I still like to "treasure hunt".
Shortly after starting this blog, I found one of my favorite treasures: ten vintage highball glasses labeled Café de Paris, with an address on Sunset Boulevard in Hollywood. I was told they're from the 1950s, which looks about right.
7038 Sunset Boulevard is now the Sycamore Tavern (temporarily closed due to COVID-19). It was built in 1940 and remodeled in 1963.
Researching the Café de Paris itself posed a challenge...there have been at least seven in LA County between the 1870s and the 1970s. Several of them existed at times that overlapped. And many resources (ESPECIALLY newspaper articles) don't distinguish between them very well or at all.
The earliest Café de Paris on record in Los Angeles did not, surprisingly, belong to a French restauranteur. Jerry Illich, a Croatian chef who had a rivalry of sorts with Victor Dol, co-owned the restaurant with one of the Marcovich brothers (who were also Croatian). If it were still standing, it would be in the Pueblo, next to the Masonic Hall. A surviving ad from LA's premier Spanish-language newspaper of the day, La Crónica, indicates that it was open by 1877.
For those of you who don't read Spanish, the restaurant was open day and night, had private dining spaces for ladies (in the 1870s, it was somewhat taboo for unaccompanied women to eat in a restaurant), and, in spite of the name, the restaurant served "all styles" of food. (Want to class up a restaurant? Slap a French name on it, even if you aren't French and there are tamales on the menu.)
At least one Café de Paris existed in south LA County - it opened in the 1960s as an addition to the Fortune Room steakhouse in Gardena.
And finally...the Café de Paris on Sunset Boulevard.
The postcard pictured above is of roughly the same vintage as the highball glasses, and the addresses match. This is THAT Café de Paris.
Shortly after starting this blog, I found one of my favorite treasures: ten vintage highball glasses labeled Café de Paris, with an address on Sunset Boulevard in Hollywood. I was told they're from the 1950s, which looks about right.
 |
| Vintage glasses from Café de Paris |
Researching the Café de Paris itself posed a challenge...there have been at least seven in LA County between the 1870s and the 1970s. Several of them existed at times that overlapped. And many resources (ESPECIALLY newspaper articles) don't distinguish between them very well or at all.
The earliest Café de Paris on record in Los Angeles did not, surprisingly, belong to a French restauranteur. Jerry Illich, a Croatian chef who had a rivalry of sorts with Victor Dol, co-owned the restaurant with one of the Marcovich brothers (who were also Croatian). If it were still standing, it would be in the Pueblo, next to the Masonic Hall. A surviving ad from LA's premier Spanish-language newspaper of the day, La Crónica, indicates that it was open by 1877.
 |
| "Cafe de Paris" ad from La Crónica, 1877 |
A 1911 article in the Venice Evening Vanguard documents the opening of a different Café de Paris, this one presumably (with libraries closed, I could only find a digitized card catalog citation) in Venice.
A 1919 article in the Los Angeles Herald began "Marking the final passing of the last of the old Bohemian resorts of Los Angeles, it became definitely known today that on Feb. 1 the Cafe de Paris will pass into the hands of the Chinese." Mme. Zucca, retired opera singer and widow of the restaurant's owner, was selling the cafe to return to Italy. A 1913 article indicated that Zucca's Café de Paris served only French food (in contrast to the Calle Principal/Main Street Café de Paris) and that it was located at the corner of Arcadia Street and North Los Angeles Streets - south of the Plaza and just a block from the heart of Frenchtown.
There must have been a Café de Paris in Santa Monica, as a 1944 Desert Sun blurb indicates that its owner, Ernest Garbaccio, had purchased a house in Palm Springs. The blurb describes this Café de Paris as "a popular night club and cafe". (I do wonder if this might, possibly, have been the same Café de Paris that opened in Venice in 1911, as some people who don't live all that close to Los Angeles tend to confuse the two. With research facilities still closed, it's difficult to be as thorough as I prefer.)
The best-known Café de Paris in Los Angeles history is easily the 20th Century Fox studio commissary, still in use today. The commissary, which is not open to the public, made use of an existing French restaurant set and hasn't changed since 1935.
 |
| Enough said. |
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| No, I haven't seen it...I'm not sure when it closed . |
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| Café de Paris |
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| 7038 Sunset Boulevard |
Digitized 1940s and 1950s phone books for the City of Los Angeles seem to be maddeningly elusive (and, as mentioned, I can't exactly go to the library right now). I was able to find a listing for Café de Paris, at the Sunset Boulevard address, in a 1955 street address directory, but I haven't been able to determine if they opened in 1940 when the building went up or if they were a later tenant. A Los Angeles Times article from 1957 names Café de Paris as a noteworthy source for French cuisine and mentions its "alfresco dining" (note the awning on the postcard above).
Michel Cartier helmed this Café de Paris, and it was popular with fine dining aficionados as well as clubs. Guests included the Club Francais de l'Institut International of Los Angeles (which aided French newcomers in everything from language lessons to house hunting), the Club Culturel Francais (a 1969 clipping names Claudia Taix as a member), and - gasp - even non-French civic and cultural groups (too many to list).
A newspaper blurb from July 1969 named French restaurants celebrating Bastille Day. Café de Paris went all out, hosting special $5 dinners and dancing over Bastille Day weekend - Saturday, Sunday, and Monday (July 14, 1969 was a Monday).
Café de Paris could be adaptable, however - the 1969 Thanksgiving menu offered turkey as one of its main-course options.
Does anyone out there know when Café de Paris closed its doors? I haven't been able to find a mention of it after about 1977.
Thursday, June 18, 2020
Cerro Gordo Needs Some Help
Regular readers will know a bit about Cerro Gordo from my entries on Victor Beaudry and Remi Nadeau. The silver lead bullion mined at Cerro Gordo helped to put Los Angeles on the map, since Remi shipped it via the port of San Pedro.
Cerro Gordo has been in the public eye here and there lately, since the town came up for sale in 2018, was featured on "Ghost Adventures", and opened to day visitors.
Co-owner Brent Underwood, who lives in Texas, came to Cerro Gordo a few months ago so the town's caretaker could check in on his wife in Arizona when the coronavirus outbreak began. It was supposed to be a short visit, but Brent was quickly snowed in and has now been in Cerro Gordo for about three months. Read some transcribed Zoom interview questions with Brent here (look for a picture of Victor Beaudry's smelter!).
Two days ago, a fire broke out in Cerro Gordo. Dry mountain air + very old, very dry wood frame buildings = highly destructive fires.
The American Hotel, Crapo House, and Ice House all burned down. There were a few hundred buildings in Cerro Gordo during the town's heyday, but fewer than 20 buildings are left.
The town needs volunteers to help clean up the mess from the fire. Brent and his business partner Jon Bier also need money to build a new hotel. The hotel's blueprints have survived, so the goal is to build a new hotel with electricity and running water while paying homage to the lost American Hotel. (As it stands, Cerro Gordo doesn't have running water at all.) When such a hotel is completed, the town will be able to accept overnight guests. (No, I haven't been to Cerro Gordo yet. Yes, I definitely want to go.)
Contact Brent and Jon via the Cerro Gordo website or on Instagram.
Cerro Gordo has been in the public eye here and there lately, since the town came up for sale in 2018, was featured on "Ghost Adventures", and opened to day visitors.
Co-owner Brent Underwood, who lives in Texas, came to Cerro Gordo a few months ago so the town's caretaker could check in on his wife in Arizona when the coronavirus outbreak began. It was supposed to be a short visit, but Brent was quickly snowed in and has now been in Cerro Gordo for about three months. Read some transcribed Zoom interview questions with Brent here (look for a picture of Victor Beaudry's smelter!).
Two days ago, a fire broke out in Cerro Gordo. Dry mountain air + very old, very dry wood frame buildings = highly destructive fires.
The American Hotel, Crapo House, and Ice House all burned down. There were a few hundred buildings in Cerro Gordo during the town's heyday, but fewer than 20 buildings are left.
The town needs volunteers to help clean up the mess from the fire. Brent and his business partner Jon Bier also need money to build a new hotel. The hotel's blueprints have survived, so the goal is to build a new hotel with electricity and running water while paying homage to the lost American Hotel. (As it stands, Cerro Gordo doesn't have running water at all.) When such a hotel is completed, the town will be able to accept overnight guests. (No, I haven't been to Cerro Gordo yet. Yes, I definitely want to go.)
Contact Brent and Jon via the Cerro Gordo website or on Instagram.
Monday, May 25, 2020
It's Not Too Late to Save Taix
Regular readers (and anyone paying attention) know that Taix's longtime home, a French Country-esque building on Sunset Boulevard, is doomed.
But what if it doesn't have to be?
There are few surviving remnants of Old French Los Angeles. Of the 500 French-associated sites I've catalogued on a Google Map over the past 7 years, there are only about 25 still standing in Los Angeles County.*
Does Taix - one of those rare survivors - really have to be demolished so this revolting abomination can dwarf everything else in Echo Park?
New owners Holland Partner Group** initially claimed they would preserve some of Taix's current features. The newer rendering indicates that isn't the case.
According to a former tenant, Holland Partner Group is also a bad developer and a bad property manager (the company is vertically integrated).
Well, what do we really expect from out-of-town developers? They're not invested in the community. They don't care about Los Angeles or its people. They see "LA" and get dollar signs in their eyes.
But what if we could landmark Taix and give the building some protection? What if it could even be incorporated into a (hopefully far less ugly) housing complex?
I'm not anti-housing. I'm against housing misuse. Apartments should never be illegally run as hotels, livable vacant homes should never sit empty and rot by the thousands while ordinary Angelenos struggle to afford inflated rents, and shiny new luxury apartments (which we have more than enough of) should never displace existing affordable housing. Successful cities have a mix of housing at a mix of pricing levels for every class of resident. That problem can't be solved by one new development. Although I dislike excessive taxation, a vacancy tax might provide landlords with a stronger long-term incentive to keep units filled with full-time renters.
Want to save Taix? Sign the petition here.
Join Friends of Taix if you're on Facebook.
And if you're close enough, help the restaurant keep going by ordering takeout or delivery.
*Not counting street names, park names, school names, memorial plaques, or cemeteries.
**To clarify: the Taix family still owns the restaurant business. Holland Partner Group owns the building, the land it's on, and Taix's overflow parking lot nearby.
But what if it doesn't have to be?
There are few surviving remnants of Old French Los Angeles. Of the 500 French-associated sites I've catalogued on a Google Map over the past 7 years, there are only about 25 still standing in Los Angeles County.*
Does Taix - one of those rare survivors - really have to be demolished so this revolting abomination can dwarf everything else in Echo Park?
New owners Holland Partner Group** initially claimed they would preserve some of Taix's current features. The newer rendering indicates that isn't the case.
According to a former tenant, Holland Partner Group is also a bad developer and a bad property manager (the company is vertically integrated).
Well, what do we really expect from out-of-town developers? They're not invested in the community. They don't care about Los Angeles or its people. They see "LA" and get dollar signs in their eyes.
But what if we could landmark Taix and give the building some protection? What if it could even be incorporated into a (hopefully far less ugly) housing complex?
I'm not anti-housing. I'm against housing misuse. Apartments should never be illegally run as hotels, livable vacant homes should never sit empty and rot by the thousands while ordinary Angelenos struggle to afford inflated rents, and shiny new luxury apartments (which we have more than enough of) should never displace existing affordable housing. Successful cities have a mix of housing at a mix of pricing levels for every class of resident. That problem can't be solved by one new development. Although I dislike excessive taxation, a vacancy tax might provide landlords with a stronger long-term incentive to keep units filled with full-time renters.
Want to save Taix? Sign the petition here.
Join Friends of Taix if you're on Facebook.
And if you're close enough, help the restaurant keep going by ordering takeout or delivery.
*Not counting street names, park names, school names, memorial plaques, or cemeteries.
**To clarify: the Taix family still owns the restaurant business. Holland Partner Group owns the building, the land it's on, and Taix's overflow parking lot nearby.
Wednesday, May 6, 2020
The King of the Castle
It's no secret that the Pyrenees Castle is up for sale. It's been on the market for so long that the asking price was recently reduced.
Nor is it a secret that the fabled chateau is a notorious murder site. Phil Spector purchased the property in 1998, and just five years later, killed Lana Clarkson inside the mansion.
I won't get into THAT ugly mess, as it's been done before. I will say that I wasn't surprised when it happened, since one of my parents had a terrifying firsthand experience with Phil Spector's bizarre behavior and hair-trigger temper.
Instead, let's go back to simpler times and meet the castle's original owner, Sylvestre Dupuy.
Sylvestre Julien Dupuy was born August 4, 1878 on the Rancho Rosa de Castille (modern-day Cal State LA - my dad taught there and never knew the property's history). When Sylvestre's mother passed away, his father took him and his siblings back to France.
As a young boy growing up in the Pyrenees, Sylvestre admired a large and elegant chateau close to where he lived. Someday, he would build one of his own.
Sylvestre wouldn't see Los Angeles again until he was 14 years old, returning with an older brother. Several years later, his uncle Jean Pedelaborde decided to return to France, leaving Sylvestre his grazing land on Rancho Rosa de Castille's hills. Sylvestre would soon lease neighboring plots and plant grain fields - in addition to raising sheep, of course. (I'm pretty sure every French Basque Angeleno must have raised sheep at some point). According to an old newspaper article, he found it cheaper to rent or lease grazing land than to own it outright. Sylvestre's sheep grazed everywhere from the Plaza area to the eastern suburbs.
Sylvestre married Anna Candelot in 1899. The couple had four children - Frank (1902), Marie (1903), Peter (1904), and Henry (1905). By 1910, the Dupuy family had relocated to the San Gabriel Valley, where land was still plentiful. Sylvestre was patriotic - he registered for the World War I draft despite being 40 years old. He was also active in the Lafayette Club.
Sylvestre's agricultural activities were successful, but he also invested in oil and worked for Walter P. Temple's Temple Townsite Company (developers of Temple City). He helped convince the Pacific Electric company to extend a Red Car line to Temple City, and a street was named for him (it was later changed to Primrose Avenue). There is a reference to Dupuy owning a general store.
In the 1920s, with business booming and Los Angeles expanding, Sylvestre decided to build a grand home on a three-acre hilltop property overlooking his ranch lands in Alhambra.
Scottish-born architect John Walker Smart was commissioned to bring Sylvestre's childhood memory of that elegant chateau to life. Thirty rooms - ten bedrooms, eight bathrooms, a basement AND a wine cellar (the Dupuys made their own wine), and more made up the 8,600 square foot mansion.
Artisans were brought over from Europe to work on the Pyrenees Castle, and work on it they did: the elegant interior boasted maple floors (recycled from Alhambra High School's original building) and elegant wood paneling, crystal sconces, chandeliers, marble floors in all eight bathrooms, and a marble foyer.
The grandeur continued outside - a massive fountain in the courtyard, tennis courts, recreation areas for the Dupuy children, and strategically placed guard towers to protect everything. The property was so vast and elaborate that the landscaping still wasn't quite complete when Sylvester passed away.
The Pyrenees Castle cost Sylvester Dupuy $500,000 (or about $7.3 MILLION in 2020 dollars). He paid IN CASH.
Locals and tourists alike have gawked at the Pyrenees Castle ever since it was built. And since the Dupuys liked their privacy (apart from the occasional celebration, i.e. entertaining French athletes during the 1932 Olympics), rumors began to circulate about the big, beautiful, mysterious castle on the hill.
One of the more common stories was that the house's owner was an automobile mogul who never let anyone see him enter or leave the property.
Another legend had it that East Coast gangsters lived inside the house (not the weirdest story that could have been invented, given that there were some real-life East Coast gangsters living in LA at the time).
Yet another rumor held that only two or three of the chateau's rooms were ever lit and that the rest of the vast home was kept in perpetual darkness. Ghost stories circulated, too.
But more than anything else, there were tall tales of secret entrances and secret passages - hidden garage entrances, an elevator inside the hill, tunnels, secret passages, and hidden rooms. (In fact, there was one secret passage - from Anna's closet to the attic.)
None of it was true, of course. In 1939, Anna and Henry Dupuy finally had to go on the record with the Los Angeles Times to explain that the Pyrenees Castle was just a very big family home. They didn't even give the house its nickname - to the unpretentious Dupuys, it was "the house on the hill", or even "the hill".
In 1928, Sylvestre took Anna and two of the children, Marie and Peter, on a trip to France. Passenger manifests show that they sailed through the port of Le Havre and returned via the port of New York.
Unfortunately, Sylvestre's oil investments tanked in 1936, wiping out most of the family fortune, and he passed away on April 22, 1937.
Sylvestre had left enough assets for Anna, three of the couple's children (Frank lived in another house), and their families to continue living in the chateau until they sold it in 1946 for the pittance of $60,000 ($847,000 today).
The mansion was then converted into eight large apartments. Anna Candelot Dupuy lived in one of the apartments until her own death three years later. (Records disagree over whether Anna financed the conversion or whether the next owner did.) The surrounding ranch lands were turned into tract housing. The Dupuys are buried at Calvary Cemetery.
As for the castle, it fell into disrepair, changed hands over and over, was abandoned and vandalized, and was purchased by Chris Yip in 1985.
The house had been treated abominably - broken windows, a leaking roof, severe scarring to the hardwood floors, and even holes in the walls and ceilings where vandals had torn out the sconces and chandeliers. Yip had the floors, paneling, and roof tiles restored, but updated the kitchen and bathrooms and added some modern conveniences.
Chris Yip bought the chateau for $585,000 and put $500,000 into fixing up the house and grounds. He intended to retire there. But in the end, it was all too much, and the Bank of Hong Kong foreclosed on the mortgage.
By now, you've heard the rest. One wonders what the Dupuys would think of the shocking murder that took place in their elegant marble foyer.
Alhambra doesn't have any historic preservation ordinances, and notorious murder sites are often altered or even demolished to deter gawkers. Can anyone spare $4.4 million?
Nor is it a secret that the fabled chateau is a notorious murder site. Phil Spector purchased the property in 1998, and just five years later, killed Lana Clarkson inside the mansion.
I won't get into THAT ugly mess, as it's been done before. I will say that I wasn't surprised when it happened, since one of my parents had a terrifying firsthand experience with Phil Spector's bizarre behavior and hair-trigger temper.
Instead, let's go back to simpler times and meet the castle's original owner, Sylvestre Dupuy.
Sylvestre Julien Dupuy was born August 4, 1878 on the Rancho Rosa de Castille (modern-day Cal State LA - my dad taught there and never knew the property's history). When Sylvestre's mother passed away, his father took him and his siblings back to France.
As a young boy growing up in the Pyrenees, Sylvestre admired a large and elegant chateau close to where he lived. Someday, he would build one of his own.
Sylvestre wouldn't see Los Angeles again until he was 14 years old, returning with an older brother. Several years later, his uncle Jean Pedelaborde decided to return to France, leaving Sylvestre his grazing land on Rancho Rosa de Castille's hills. Sylvestre would soon lease neighboring plots and plant grain fields - in addition to raising sheep, of course. (I'm pretty sure every French Basque Angeleno must have raised sheep at some point). According to an old newspaper article, he found it cheaper to rent or lease grazing land than to own it outright. Sylvestre's sheep grazed everywhere from the Plaza area to the eastern suburbs.
Sylvestre married Anna Candelot in 1899. The couple had four children - Frank (1902), Marie (1903), Peter (1904), and Henry (1905). By 1910, the Dupuy family had relocated to the San Gabriel Valley, where land was still plentiful. Sylvestre was patriotic - he registered for the World War I draft despite being 40 years old. He was also active in the Lafayette Club.
Sylvestre's agricultural activities were successful, but he also invested in oil and worked for Walter P. Temple's Temple Townsite Company (developers of Temple City). He helped convince the Pacific Electric company to extend a Red Car line to Temple City, and a street was named for him (it was later changed to Primrose Avenue). There is a reference to Dupuy owning a general store.
In the 1920s, with business booming and Los Angeles expanding, Sylvestre decided to build a grand home on a three-acre hilltop property overlooking his ranch lands in Alhambra.
Scottish-born architect John Walker Smart was commissioned to bring Sylvestre's childhood memory of that elegant chateau to life. Thirty rooms - ten bedrooms, eight bathrooms, a basement AND a wine cellar (the Dupuys made their own wine), and more made up the 8,600 square foot mansion.
Artisans were brought over from Europe to work on the Pyrenees Castle, and work on it they did: the elegant interior boasted maple floors (recycled from Alhambra High School's original building) and elegant wood paneling, crystal sconces, chandeliers, marble floors in all eight bathrooms, and a marble foyer.
The grandeur continued outside - a massive fountain in the courtyard, tennis courts, recreation areas for the Dupuy children, and strategically placed guard towers to protect everything. The property was so vast and elaborate that the landscaping still wasn't quite complete when Sylvester passed away.
The Pyrenees Castle cost Sylvester Dupuy $500,000 (or about $7.3 MILLION in 2020 dollars). He paid IN CASH.
Locals and tourists alike have gawked at the Pyrenees Castle ever since it was built. And since the Dupuys liked their privacy (apart from the occasional celebration, i.e. entertaining French athletes during the 1932 Olympics), rumors began to circulate about the big, beautiful, mysterious castle on the hill.
One of the more common stories was that the house's owner was an automobile mogul who never let anyone see him enter or leave the property.
Another legend had it that East Coast gangsters lived inside the house (not the weirdest story that could have been invented, given that there were some real-life East Coast gangsters living in LA at the time).
Yet another rumor held that only two or three of the chateau's rooms were ever lit and that the rest of the vast home was kept in perpetual darkness. Ghost stories circulated, too.
But more than anything else, there were tall tales of secret entrances and secret passages - hidden garage entrances, an elevator inside the hill, tunnels, secret passages, and hidden rooms. (In fact, there was one secret passage - from Anna's closet to the attic.)
None of it was true, of course. In 1939, Anna and Henry Dupuy finally had to go on the record with the Los Angeles Times to explain that the Pyrenees Castle was just a very big family home. They didn't even give the house its nickname - to the unpretentious Dupuys, it was "the house on the hill", or even "the hill".
In 1928, Sylvestre took Anna and two of the children, Marie and Peter, on a trip to France. Passenger manifests show that they sailed through the port of Le Havre and returned via the port of New York.
Unfortunately, Sylvestre's oil investments tanked in 1936, wiping out most of the family fortune, and he passed away on April 22, 1937.
Sylvestre had left enough assets for Anna, three of the couple's children (Frank lived in another house), and their families to continue living in the chateau until they sold it in 1946 for the pittance of $60,000 ($847,000 today).
The mansion was then converted into eight large apartments. Anna Candelot Dupuy lived in one of the apartments until her own death three years later. (Records disagree over whether Anna financed the conversion or whether the next owner did.) The surrounding ranch lands were turned into tract housing. The Dupuys are buried at Calvary Cemetery.
As for the castle, it fell into disrepair, changed hands over and over, was abandoned and vandalized, and was purchased by Chris Yip in 1985.
The house had been treated abominably - broken windows, a leaking roof, severe scarring to the hardwood floors, and even holes in the walls and ceilings where vandals had torn out the sconces and chandeliers. Yip had the floors, paneling, and roof tiles restored, but updated the kitchen and bathrooms and added some modern conveniences.
Chris Yip bought the chateau for $585,000 and put $500,000 into fixing up the house and grounds. He intended to retire there. But in the end, it was all too much, and the Bank of Hong Kong foreclosed on the mortgage.
By now, you've heard the rest. One wonders what the Dupuys would think of the shocking murder that took place in their elegant marble foyer.
Alhambra doesn't have any historic preservation ordinances, and notorious murder sites are often altered or even demolished to deter gawkers. Can anyone spare $4.4 million?
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