[Noozhawk’s note: First in a series. Click here for the second article, click here for the third, click here for the fourth, and click here for the fifth.]
Our beloved Santa Barbara Zoo has turned 60 years old. It opened in 1963, as a charming place for children and families and interesting animals, in an enchanted setting overlooking East Beach.

And what a fascinating history of tremendous community involvement would make it happen!
But this special property actually had another 60 years of Santa Barbara history before becoming the fabulous place of flora and fauna in 1963.
There are many “urban myths” about the original Child’s Estate named for an eccentric old lady who let hobos live on her property. Wasn’t her late husband once a hobo, the story goes, so she took pity on them and let them stay?
Oh, there is so much more to her story. So, boys and girls, let us get into our Mr. Peabody and Sherman’s WABAC (Wayback) Machine (<— who remembers that one?), set the dial to 1903 and find out what happened.
Actually, we’ll start a few years earlier to the lead-up.
John Edward Beale
John Beale was a prominent New York sugar broker and a winter resident of Santa Barbara. He absolutely loved the natural beauty of the area.
In 1896, Beale bought the former “Nidever Hill” on the “new boulevard facing the channel” for $8,750. (Cabrillo Boulevard did not have a name yet — just “the boulevard” or “east boulevard.”)
The location was claimed to be “one of the most beautiful in the neighborhood of Santa Barbara and the land … consists of nineteen and a fraction acres amply sufficient for a really beautiful country estate.”
Beale bought another 10 acres from a neighbor, Oscar Hinsdale, and before that year ended, he was already soliciting bids from contractors to build his new home and barn. (Oh! For those simple days before the exhaustive building permit marathon of Planning Commission, Architectural Board of Review and Coastal Commission, et al!)

A fellow New Yorker, Frederick L. Roehrig, the “Millionaire’s Architect,” came in to design the mission-style mansion with red tile roof, pink stucco walls and terraced gardens for $15,000 (that’s about $548,000 in 2023 dollars — but did not include all the planning, permitting and review costs of today.)
Beale called his estate Vegamar, “Star of the Sea,” on his eponymous Beale Hill. And it was finished by the end of 1907.
What a place! A two-story high living room sported a wrap-around balcony to afford spectacular views of the mountains, or out to the islands, overlooking the city, or clear down the coastline.

Although his name is not well known today, Beale was an important local citizen at the turn of the 20th century.
He was a community leader in many areas of endeavor, gave part of his property to the city for waterfront access, served as a judge for the popular Floral Parades, was a founder of the Central Bank, and was a founding member of both the Arlington Jockey Club (1890) and the Santa Barbara Club (1892).
Beale threw parties, including a grand barn dance with flowing magnums of champagne — said to be the party of the year! And for several years, two of his young nieces lived with him at his grand home.
An attractive and clean-shaven man, Beale was always in riding clothes and knee-length boots — with a riding crop stuck in one boot ready to go.
And no wonder. Beale had fine black and white horses upon which he would enjoy a daily ride along the beach.
Then around 1905, the long-time “confirmed bachelor-ladies man” Beale would become captivated by one charming new visitor in the community: Mrs. D.W. Brown.
Mrs. Daniel Wheeler ‘Lillian Bailey’ Brown
When New York millionaire D. Wheeler Brown (of the banking brothers renown) married Lillian Bailey of Staten Island in 1891, their wedding was attended “by all the prominent residents of New Brighton.”
They later made their home in Chicago, on Sheridan Boulevard on the North Shore.
Lillian had been married 10 years when she separated from her husband and began coming to Santa Barbara around 1903, staying at The Upham Hotel to visit childhood friend Marian Watts, who had moved to Montecito.
Watts introduced Lillian, the soon-to-be “gay divorcée” of New York, to lifelong bachelor John Beale of Santa Barbara.
Beale was quite taken with Lillian Brown.
And when the millionaire wed Lillian in June 1906, it made national news. Moreover, the newspapers duly noted that he was 68; she was 35.
To add to the fun, the couple married only three days after Lillian’s divorce was finalized. The Beales promptly left on a three-month honeymoon through Europe.

Upon their autumn return, Lillian Bailey Brown Beale became thoroughly engaged in the community, hosting or sponsoring tables and theater seats for friends and the high society set.
The Beales entertained the likes of the Fithians, Coles, Duryeas, Leadbetters, Milo Potter and Sherman Stow, as well as many of the “estate aristocrats” of Montecito, such as John Percival Jefferson (Miraflores) the McLeans (Solano), Heberton (El Hagar), Louis Jones (Wildwood), the Underhills (La Chiquita) and Talbot Walkers (The Gables).

The Beales’ own estate, Vegamar, was a showplace of beautiful architecture, fantastic gardens, magnificent views and impeccable service from her house staff.
The home was, without a doubt, THE landmark along the waterfront. (Bellosguardo, which was owned by William and Eleanor Graham at this time, was another impressive estate — but too high up to be seen and appreciated by the general public.)
At this time, it was the fashion for the newspapers to report on people’s coming and goings: when they were leaving town and where they were going; when they returned from their summer or winter residences. The Beales were mentioned regularly in the social columns in Santa Barbara and San Francisco.
Ladies of the “moneyed set” frequently held luncheons and dinner parties at their estate homes, for a dozen or even dozens of people. Private dinner parties for a half-dozen people or soirées for 200 people were all duly noted, including the names of many in attendance.
It was not uncommon to host a dinner in honor of someone new to town, or for a local resident leaving town for an extended trip, or returning from a seasonal home. Any nominal reason would suffice to host a dinner or luncheon.

Lillian herself enjoyed presenting teas and luncheons for the ladies. She was considered a gracious hostess, regularly opening up her home, or sometimes treating the ladies to a luncheon at Le Chalet, the French restaurant in Montecito on North Jameson Lane.
They entertained local leaders and those in American industry as well as aristocrats of Europe: from Mrs. W.W. Hollister, to William Disston of the Philadelphia manufacturer, to Count de Laborde, Marquis and Marchioness of Headfort.
The Beales enjoyed taking the occasional trip to New York and Europe for business and pleasure, or even vacationing for a month in Honolulu (decades before it was really discovered as a tourist destination). All noted in the local newspaper.
In June 1914, however, the music suddenly stopped. Beale died after a few months of failing health.
Although Beale had no children, and left the estate to his wife, the will was contested by some of his nieces and nephews who felt their names should have been in the will because he had been generous to them throughout their lives.
The relatives clearly thought they were due a substantial cut of the estate.
They variously accused Lillian of undue influence; that Beale was not competent when making his will; that there was a second secret will; or even that Lillian was treating her husband with morphine.
Three lawsuit trials took place over 1½ years in which all the lurid accusations were covered in the press.
Beale’s friends, lawyers and physicians, and even her Japanese chauffeur made it clear to the courts that her late husband had only one legitimate will, that he was in sound mind, in good relationship with his wife, and that his property (alone was worth $278,367 — roughly $7.8 million today) and total estate worth $1.5 million was to be left to Lillian.
(There was also an understanding between the couple that she would leave something to his extended family members in her own will — which she did).
Finally, by May 1916, Lillian was so thoroughly exonerated, that the judge threw out a new lawsuit initiated by the relatives.

The prolonged “ill will” and news coverage took a small toll on Lillian, as did the loss of the companionship of her husband, of course. Her social activities slowed down somewhat — but she soon busied herself with fundraising to help the orphans at St. Vincent’s.
She also spent much time assisting at the Community Drying and Canning Plant. This was located at the Neighborhood house at the corner of Santa Barbara and East De La Guerra streets.
Residents donated produce, which volunteers then variously made into jelly, or canned other fruits and vegetables to aid and feed local residents by conserving food resources from home gardens and orchards.
When the United States entered World War I, Lillian raised funds for the Red Cross and canteen fund, and even headed up a district recruitment in the campaign for Red Cross membership.
In October 1918, millionaire Lillian Beale even planned to put away her formal frocks, roll up her sleeves and join the canteen movement of the YMCA for the good of soldiers overseas. (The YMCA volunteers assisted the Army with soldiers in training by feeding them hot coffee, soups, sandwiches and doughnuts, and by providing activities to bolster morale, like recreation, library and religious services.)

Lillian took the train Back East to enlist for six months of service, but plans changed along the way.
One explanation was that she actually was “too old” to qualify for the program. So she stayed with friends in Rhode Island and her sister in Long Island; in the spring, she was back in Santa Barbara at Vegamar.
Then life took another turn.
In April 1921, in New York City, Lillian Bailey Brown Beale married widower John Howard Child — yet another millionaire. They promptly went off to Europe for a three-month honeymoon.
The 61-year-old Child was an importer in the firm Maynard & Child, with offices in Manhattan and Boston. He lived on Park Avenue, had a home in Massachusetts and traveled often to Europe on business.
He was a man of great culture with a special interest in music, and he was a member of the exclusive Metropolitan Club of New York.

And Child was a millionaire back in the day when being a millionaire was really worth something. A million dollars in 1921 would be worth $17.154 million today. (The average annual salary in 1921 was $2,950.)
Child had never been to Santa Barbara, and was decidedly impressed. He promptly joined The Valley Club of Montecito for golf and the Santa Barbara Club for men’s social and business activities.
The couple kept an apartment at The Plaza in New York where they spent their winters, and come late spring they moved into Vegamar.
They were a dashing couple, and Lillian was especially noted for her fashionable wear: flamboyant chiffon scarves, couture hats and gowns of gold.
And when they weren’t in New York or Santa Barbara, the Childs were off again to travel Europe!

When back stateside, the local newspapers continued to chronicle the couple’s busy schedule of either attending or hosting dinners, luncheons, fancy parties or dinner-dances taking place at at Vegamar or other Montecito estates, at the Montecito Country Club or at the new El Paseo Restaurant.
In April 1931, after 10 years of marriage, Child died. By this time, the “Beale Estate” nomenclature was informally replaced with “The Child’s Estate” — reflective of the contemporary owners.
Mrs. Child continued her community work and donations.
One news item even relayed that after World War II, when some interned Japanese families returned to Santa Barbara, homeless and without means, Lillian Child bought houses for them.
She continued to entertain — including many of the titled friends the couple had met through their decade together, among them Lady Ribblesdale, the first wife of John Jacob Astor IV, who died in the sinking of the Titanic; the Marquis de La Coudraye; Count and Countess Pecci-Blunt; Count and Countess de L’Arbre; Lord and Lady Tennyson; Prince and Princess Orsini; Duke de Trevise; and Lady Hadfield.
Then, in 1944, Lillian offered her entire 16-acre estate to the regents of the University of California, along with several stipulations that did not ultimately meet with the university’s approval.
For a half-century, Vegamar had been a landmark and a showplace on the Santa Barbara shore. The estate included 16 acres on the picturesque knoll between the Mar Monte Hotel and the Andrée Clark Bird Refuge.

In 1947, Lillian, pursuing her desire that the estate be dedicated to the use of her community, left her Vegamar to the Santa Barbara Foundation.
When deeded to the foundation, Lilian retained a life tenancy for herself and some of the itinerate residents on her property — the hobos.
Next up: Part II and the Hobos of Child’s Estate, coming later this week.



