Views of Los Angeles from 100 Years Ago

Los Angeles in 1913 had a population of 465,000, and boasted of over 600 miles of graded and graveled streets, of its position as the commercial capital of southern California, and of its spacious homes. The following photographs are from Frank W. Staley’s Views of Los Angeles.

Weeping Willow, Echo Park

Weeping Willow, Echo Park

Residence and Park, Beverly Hills

Residence and Park, Beverly Hills

Pacific Ave and Park, House facing the sea, Long Beach

Pacific Ave and Park, Long Beach

Hollywood Residences

Hollywood Residences

Bathing Scene and Amusement Pier, Venice

Bathing Scene and Amusement Pier, Venice

Boulevard, Hollywood

Boulevard, Hollywood

Broadway, north from 8th Street

Broadway, north from 8th Street

Primer to Gilded Age New York Society

julian fellowes

By now you’ve probably heard the news of NBC’s new deal with Downton Abbey’s Julian Fellowes to create a period drama set in Gilded Age New York titled–naturally–“The Gilded Age.”

In its release, NBC described the series, which will be called “The Gilded Age,” as an “epic tale of the princes of the American Renaissance, and the vast fortunes they made — and spent — in late 19th century New York.”

Mr. Fellowes said in a statement, “This was a vivid time with dizzying, brilliant ascents and calamitous falls, of record-breaking ostentation and savage rivalry; a time when money was king.”

I fell in love with the Gilded Age after reading Edith Wharton’s The House of Mirth when I was a teenager, and couldn’t resist setting a significant portion of my book, The Townsend Inheritance, in New York and Newport, so I am excited to see it gaining more attention–both positive and negative–on this side of the pond. American history isn’t just about the Civil War! *g* I have blogged a fair bit about life in America (specifically New York City), but to refresh your memory I am creating a brief primer, and look for more posts about the era in the future.

The lavishness we associate with the Gilded Age did not reach its fruition until the 1880s, when “swells” like the Vanderbilts–spearheaded by Alva Vanderbilt, wife of Willie K.–launched a social campaign against the small, snobbish clique of old New York elite known as the Knickerbockers. These were the descendants of the great Anglo-Dutch families who settled in New Amsterdam in the 17th and 18th centuries, and built their wealth on “respectable” trades like shipping and real estate. The boom in American industry after the Civil War created millionaires out of nobodies, and the glitter and glamor of New York attracted them over any other major US city, which meant the old Knickerbockers had to devise ways to keep them out.

Most of the old, genteel Knickerbockers retained their English brownstones in quiet and elegant Washington Square, though some had begun to move up Fifth Avenue towards Central Park. Department store millionaire A. T. Stewart threw down the first gauntlet when he built a grand marble mansion directly across from the Mrs. Astor’s discreet brownstone, but she pointedly never acknowledged the man or his wife, and after their deaths in 1876 and 1886, respectively, Stewart’s magnificent house was rented to the exclusive Manhattan Club–the irony!–before being razed in 1901 to make room for the new premises of the Knickerbocker Trust Company. Many other new millionaires attempted to assail the deeply entrenched society focused around Caroline Astor and her “court jester”, Ward McAllister (from whom the term “The Four Hundred” derived), but it took a woman to best Mrs. Astor at her own game–the pugnacious Southern belle, Alva Erskine Smith.

Alva married William Kissam Vanderbilt, grandson of the family patriarch Cornelius Vanderbilt, in 1875. Cornelius Vanderbilt’s vulgar behavior kept the family out of NY high society, but Alva was determined to use her new millions to become a social leader. She noticed that the stuffiness of the Knickerbockers, with their simple dinners and quiet living, was beginning to grate on younger members of society and correctly predicted that they as well as New Yorkers, thirsted for lavish consumption. She immediately commissioned a magnificent house from Richard Morris Hunt at 660 Fifth Avenue. Her father-in-law, William H. Vanderbilt, had commissioned twin mansions nearby, and both Vanderbilt homes were completed around the same time.

The size and grandeur of these mansions staggered New York, and set off a flurry of media attention about the size and dimensions, the treasures that lay within, and the lifestyle of those who lived within them. Alva solidified her pursuit of prominence by hosting a fancy dress ball for 1000 guests at a cost of $3 million. Carrie Astor, Caroline’s favorite daughter, spent weeks practicing a quadrille with her friends, and in a cunning move, Alva sadly mentioned that Carrie could not take part in the quadrille as she did not know her mother. That sent the Mrs. Astor scrambling to pay a call on Alva Vanderbilt after repeated snubs, and Alva promptly dispatched an invitation to the ball!

Another coup in which Alva was involved was the establishment of the Metropolitan Opera House. Weekly attendance at the opera was de rigueur for Knickerbocker elite, and the opera boxes in the small Academy of Music were coveted by nouveaux riche who were barred from purchasing even one by the directors. The millionaires got their revenge when the Metropolitan Opera House opened in 1883. This building was, as usual, lavish, opulent, lush, and grand, and the three tiers of boxes designated for high society were known as the “golden horseshoe”. The Metropolitan Opera House supplanted the Academy of Music within three years, forcing the Academy out of the opera business and into cheaper entertainments like vaudeville! After these K.O.’s to the Knickerbockers, New York established itself as the playground for America’s social elite, and other major cities emulated their markers of prominence (wealth, mansions, summer homes, Paris fashions, exclusive dances and clubs, and of course, American heiresses).

For a closer peek, here are some of my previous posts on the topic!

The New York Social Season

The Four Hundred

The Origins of the Waldorf=Astoria

Upstairs Downstairs in Gilded Age America

Lobster Palace Society

American Resorts: Newport

Further Reading:
To Marry an English Lord by Gail MacColl and Carol McD. Wallace
A Season of Splendor: The Court of Mrs. Astor in Gilded Age New York by Greg King
When the Astors Owned New York: Blue Bloods and Grand Hotels in a Gilded Age by Justin Kaplan
Fortune’s Children: The Fall of the House of Vanderbilt by Arthur T. Vanderbilt
Gilded: How Newport Became America’s Richest Resort by Deborah Davis
Edith Wharton at Home: Life at the Mount by Richard Guy Wilson, John Arthur and Pauline C. Metcalf
First Four Hundred : New York and the Gilded Age by Jerry E. Patterson
The Splendor Seekers: An informal Glimpse of America’s Multimillionaire Spenders by Allen Churchill
The Opulent Interiors of the Gilded Age

Edith Wharton & Autumn in the Berkshires

The Mount

I don’t know about you, but I love the change from summer to autumn, when the temperature cools, the leaves change color, and there is something fresh and exciting in the air! For our Gilded Age counterparts, the change in season meant leaving Newport and preparing for the New York season, which was book-ended by the opening of the Metropolitan Opera season and Lent the following winter. During that brief lull between Newport and New York, many of the Four Hundred wedged in a visit to the countryside, with the Berkshires–Lenox, MA in particular–a fashionable destination. Though society in this beautiful area of New England was much staider than the flash and glamor of Newport, it was infinitely more “American” in its atmosphere, with large homes that harkened back to the Colonial days rather than the court of the Sun King, and entertainments held on an intimate scale. There were no prying tourists in the Berkshires, or tour guides interrupting their meals as in Newport, yet the area was also not super exclusive to the point of snobbishness like Tuxedo Park.

By the turn of the century, however, ultra-fashionable society had discovered the delights of the Berkshires, and though they brought their caviar dinners, Worth gowns, and European-style palaces, the tone never veered towards the ostentatious vulgarity that resulted in dog’s dinners. The principal events of the season in the Berkshires were the horse show and the Berkshire Hunt, and other events included gymkhanas, lawn tennis parties, archery competitions, strolls through the woods, deer stalking, and boating excursions. The end of the season was marked by the Tub Parade in September, where “a length procession of carriages, landaus, and coaches bedecked with flowers that were judged according to the elaboration of their decoration.

It was in the Berkshires that Edith Wharton built The Mount, which she considered her “first real home”, and it was with much regret that she was forced to give it up. While in residence, Edith managed to run afoul of the Berkshires’ leading hostess, Emily Vanderbilt Sloane, whose “cottage” Elm Court was the largest shingle-style house built in America, and with nearly one hundred rooms, was the second largest house in the Berkshires. Wharton, who drew many of her stories from fellow members of society, managed to hit a little too close to home with her short story The Line of Least Resistance, which was a thinly-veiled account of Emily’s ex-sister-in-law, who flaunted her extramarital relationship with Perry Belmont. As the queen of Berkshires’ society, everyone sided with Emily on the matter, and Edith was forced to apologize or risk being completely ostracized. The ladies made up with a luncheon, but no one was fooled.

In 1891, Emily’s supremacy in the Berkshires was challenged by one Anson Phelps Stokes, a self-made multimillionaire and avowed Anglophile, who decided to build a larger “cottage” than Elm Court. This was Shadow Brook, which by its completion in 1894, cost $1 million, and with more than one hundred rooms, was the largest private home in America. Its ground floor covered an entire acre, and apocryphal stories about its capacity for entertainments abounded. In one story, Helen Phelps Stokes would tell her children to ride their bicycles in the attic on rainy days, and in another, Anson Phelps Stokes Jr. wired his mother to inform her he was bringing “a crowd of 96 men” (meaning, those from his graduating class at Harvard). Mrs. Stokes allegedly wired back “don’t make it more than fifty; have friends already here.”

Though the season was short, the Berkshires were a source of restoration and inspiration to more than just socialites, and judging by how much Edith Wharton loved the area, its awe-inspiring vistas fed the mind of the artist. Many of the “cottages” remain in existence, though as hotels or convention centers, but you can still walk in the path of Edith Wharton and her ilk (as well as the path of W.E.B. DuBois, whose family had very strong roots in Great Barrington).

Further Reading:
The Berkshire Cottages: A Vanishing Era by Carole Owens
Houses of the Berkshires, 1870-1930 by Richard S. Jackson & Cornelia Brooke Glider
Edith Wharton at Home: Life at the Mount by Richard Guy Wilson
A Season of Splendor: The Court of Mrs. Astor in Gilded Age New York by Greg King
The Berkshire Web
Ventfort Hall
A Look at Bellefontaine