Helena Modjeska’s California paradise

You have to see it to believe it. At the end of a winding country road that narrows to a small dirt lane, which you have to walk down because cars are not allowed, it appears: A fairytale cottage, a profusion of flowers and trees and fountains and a picturesque wishing well. Nestled in the secluded canyons below the Santa Ana Mountains, this National Historic Landmark is the “Forest of Arden,” now owned by Orange County and open to visitors lucky enough to know it exists.

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Most Californians are also unaware of the brilliant woman who made this magical place a reality, a woman who was once an international household name. Helena Opid was born in Krakow in 1840, the out-of-wedlock child of a wealthy widow and an unknown father, who many whispered was a count. The youngest daughter of a large, theatrical family, the shy, intelligent child bloomed when performing. In her 20s, she became the darling of the Polish theater scene under the stage name Helena Modrzejewska (Modjeska), and she was invited to work in the grandest theaters in Warsaw. In 1868, after shaking off a Svengali-like relationship with her partner Gustaw Zimaje—the father of her son, Ralph—she married Karol Bozenta Chłapowski, known in America as Count Bozenta, or simply “the Count.”

Count Bozenta, who Modjeska called “Charlie,” was a somewhat ineffectual intellectual charmer, whose father had been a nobleman. The Count worked as a journalist and was heavily involved in the tangled politics of Russian Poland. “He adored her,” Ellen Lee, director of the Helena Modjeska Foundation, told the Los Angeles Times. “Their personalities seemed to fit perfectly. The Count was excitable, talkative. Modjeska was more quiet, more subdued."

The couple traveled all over Europe, Modjeska performing in the best theaters, and the Count acting as her manager. The two bonded over their love of learning and exploring new ideas, though the self-taught Modjeska was often much more practical than her dreamy, philosophical husband. But this common-sense side of Modjeska did not stop her from buying into the Count’s ultimate dream: to travel to the promised land of the American West.

As the years wore on, the outspoken couple found themselves increasingly at odds with Poland’s regressive political and theatrical society. In 1876, they finally decided to pack up their life and immigrate to America. Modjeska was excited to start a new chapter in her life, “one with new scenery and the possibility of settling down somewhere in the land of freedom.”

The couple did not travel alone. The Count didn’t just want to move to America, he wanted to start a Utopian farming community in the sunshine of California. To supply their colony with residents, they brought along Modjeska’s son, Ralph, and several of their elite, intellectual friends, including journalist Henryk Sienkiewicz, a future Noble Prize winner best known for his novel Quo Vadis.

The idealistic group landed in New York and made their way to California. While Modjeska and the others found their footing in relatively cosmopolitan San Francisco, Sienkiewicz traveled to the small agricultural enclave of Anaheim, in rural Orange County, where he secured a tiny two-bedroom house with a bit of ranch land. Anaheim had been chosen by the colonists primarily because of its large German population. Since most of the group could speak German, it would make their new lives much easier.

Modjeska arrived at the ranch in Anaheim and was instantly disappointed. “The commonplaceness of it all was painfully discouraging,” she wrote in her autobiography Memories and Impressions of Helena Modjeska. “The front yard, with its cypresses, shaggy grass, and flowers scattered at random, looked like a poorly kept small graveyard.” While the others were enthusiastic, “my disappointment was great, and I was on the point of exclaiming, ‘Oh why do we not live in tents!’”

But Modjeska was still game. The actress, used to wearing majestic costumes (often of her own design), suited up to play her latest role. “My housekeeping days began,” she remembered. “At seven next morning, attired in one of my pretty aprons which I had brought from Europe, I went to the kitchen.” After eating a hearty breakfast supplied by Modjeska and her trusty maid Anusia, the men went out to begin their lives as pioneering farmers. “The first time our gentlemen started on the cultivation of the orange orchard, they looked eager, full of energy and enthusiasm,” Modjeska wrote. They were riding high, “nursing brilliant hopes of making fortunes out of the fertile ground of California.”

It took only one work day in the not-always-kind California sun for things to begin to fall apart. “Next morning some of the party were late for breakfast; the third day someone complained of a lame back; a week later there were only two who insisted still on working, my husband and my son,” Modjeska remembered.

The colonists had come to California at a particularly bad time. Not only was there a drought in Southern California, the region had also fallen into an economic depression. But, Modjeska knew the real reason for the men’s lack of success. These cultured men were “amateur farmers, who were full of good will and fine theories, but sadly lacked experience.”

Modjeska urged her husband and son to find jobs more practically suited to their skills, while the Count urged her to be patient. Despite his encouraging words, as the days went by Modjeska wrote: “I noticed that my husband grew despondent and unusually nervous, and I also began to feel restless, and at moments felt a sort of pang around my heart.” But soon Modjeska met a couple who would lead her to her true California dream:

One afternoon, when I sat at the window, sad, unnerved, brooding over our fate, I saw two people approaching the house; a man about 40-years-old, with sharp, clear-cut, regular features, blond hair and beard- a perfect American type, -and a woman, forming a strong contrast, with her olive complexion and black hair.

The couple were Joseph E. Pleasants and Maria Refugio Pleasants. The charming, inseparable duo had heard of this curious band of settlers and had come to introduce themselves to the rumored great actress of the European stage. They invited Modjeska and the Count to their ranch in a beautiful oak covered valley in Santiago Canyon, at the foot of the Santa Ana Mountains, in eastern Orange County. Modjeska was instantly enchanted:

On an acre or so of level ground stood a tiny shanty, the dwelling-house; a few steps farther was an arbor covered with dead branches, vines, and climbing roses…All around, like a living dark green frame, oaks and oaks, some of stupendous dimensions. In the distance mossy rocks and mountains. The whole picture looked more like fantastic stage scenery than a real thing, and looking at it, my imagination carried me far, far, beyond the hills, back to the footlights again.

The footlights continued to call Modjeska’s name. The Count’s colonial experiment lasted less than six months, and put the couple $15,000 in debt. While many of the colonists returned to Europe, Modjeska traveled back to San Francisco. Here, the multi-lingual Modjeska doggedly learned to speak English in a record six months.

On December 22, 1877, Modjeska made her American debut as the title role in the play Adrienne Lecouvreur. Over the next 10 years, the stately, naturalistic Modjeska became one of the most famous actresses in America, known particularly for her gifted interpretations of Shakespeare’s heroines, including Rosalind in As You Like It. Her co-stars included theatrical superstars Otis Skinner and Maurice Barrymore, and she was godmother to Maurice’s daughter, Ethel. The great Edwin Booth (brother to John Wilkes) said of her, “She is a genius; I learn something new from her every day.”

Despite all her success, Modjeska never forgot the beautiful little cottage in Santiago Canyon. She and the Count would occasionally visit the Pleasants. In 1888, Maria Pleasants died, and her devastated husband, haunted by memories of his wife in the home they had shared, offered to sell the ranch to Modjeska and the Count. The couple, weary from life on the road, jumped at the chance.

Modjeska instantly knew what her new sanctuary would be named. “I called it ‘Arden’,” she recalled, “because like the ‘Forest of Arden’ in As You Like It, everything that Shakespeare speaks of was on the spot- oak trees, running brooks, palms, snakes, and even lions, -of course California lions, - really pumas.”

The couple began to convert the rustic ranch into their own magical summer retreat. To expand the Pleasants’ modest bungalow, they hired their friend Stanford White. The legendary architect designed homes for the Vanderbilts, Morgans, Pulitzers, and Astors, and would later be killed by a jealous husband. Working remotely from the East Coast, White created a rambling, gabled white cottage, every bit as enchanting as the scenery that surrounded it. He also included practical details like a side porch that could double as a makeshift rehearsal stage (complete with stage left and stage right). The grounds were carefully landscaped, and eventually the Count, an avid swimmer, even had an artificial swimming pond created; it is often credited as the first swimming pool in Orange County.

A visiting reporter for the Los Angeles Times described the magical effect that Arden produced:

The very house and the out-buildings are blended in the landscape, and the beauty of the low, rambling white house amid a shade of great spreading live oaks and palms, surrounded by closely cropped lawns of blue grass, beds of luxuriant flowers of every hue, climbing vines about the piazzas, and over trellises, the walks and driveways, as smooth as asphalt, that curve in and out of lawns and flower beds, is difficult to tell.

Modjeska, with the Count in tow as manager, continued to tour a grueling nine months out of the year, but her magical forest was never far from her mind. “I have acted Lady Macbeth and Portia now for many years,” she told a reporter. “The lines have a charm that's like my California home. I never wish to forget or cease to be fond of either.”

The house itself had been designed for relaxation and renewal. “The windows are tall and wide,” one visitor wrote. “In several rooms they are of the French style and open out upon broad verandas. Hammocks, awnings, big porch chairs and inviting recesses abound.”

For Modjeska, the secluded spot was a place to forget the cares of her demanding career. “Every time I came to my ‘Arden’ my thoughts were far away from the stage. It was an ideal place for rest- and I needed rest.” She continued:

Our place was removed ten miles from the railroad and twenty-three from the nearest town, Santa Ana. it was really a very peaceful retreat, far from the turmoil of the world. Access was not easy, and we had no visits except from those who really cared for us. Yet we did not suffer from lack of society, for during the many returns to California we had won a great many dear friends, too numerous to be mentioned here.

The eccentric loners who populated Santiago Canyon, including mountain men and beekeepers, were welcome at Arden, as were the couple’s theatrical friends. They were also often visited by Ralph, who had become a respected engineer.

In 1893, a young British horticulturist named Theodore Payne became head gardener at the ranch. He was soon enchanted with its natural wonders—its flittering hummingbirds, butterflies, and Modjeska’s beloved rose gardens, which she loved to stroll while rehearsing lines.

Payne, who would become one of the most famous landscape designers of his day, adored Modjeska and the Count. He recalled them as “very nice, democratic kinds of folks.” He credited them with creating an atmosphere where “the whole air seemed charged with gaiety and romance.” He remembered with particular fondness a birthday party Modjeska threw for him:

People came from all over the countryside; ranchers, beekeepers, laborers, Americans, Mexicans, Indians… I think there must have been nearly eighty people there. We had foot races, sack races, horse races and other sports. In the evening we had a dance on the veranda of the house. There was Madame Modjeska, one of the greatest actresses the world has ever known, by many considered second only to Bernhardt, dancing with Jose Serrano wearing a big Mexican sombrero. What a picturesque scene. I thought to myself, ‘what a wonderful country.’ Nowhere else could this happen. Hospitality and freedom. No social lines or barriers and everyone happy and contented.

When not hosting visitors, Modjeska and the Count indulged in their numerous passions. Unable to let go totally of his utopian agricultural dream, the Count played gentleman farmer, buying up surrounding land to raise cattle and grow olive trees. Modjeska left the Count to the business side of the ranch, while she took advantage of her few months of precious leisure.

“What do I do when at my mountain home?” Modjeska rhetorically asked a reporter visiting Arden. “Why, I do just what I like. The Count and I live as near nature as we can. For days at a time we have all our meals served in the arbor; we climb over the mountains; go horseback riding; hunt for game; have visits from our friends and go down to Los Angeles, Santa Ana and Anaheim on short visits. I spend some time every day in dramatic study, and many hours each week sketching.” In the sitting room were a piano, zither, harp, flute, violin, cornet, and banjo, which were often utilized for impromptu concerts. Modjeska spent a great amount of time in her study, which a reporter of the day described in detail:

…this is Madame’s work table, and close to it is her favorite deep-seated leather covered easy chair. There are books of plays…great volumes with colored pictures of costumes and stage settings and scrap books of dramatic criticisms and theatrical events on the table, under the table, on the stone mantle and on the floor.

As the years passed, word of Modjeska’s retreat spread. Fans began to visit the ranch, and Modjeska would often send her friends out to greet them dressed in her own clothes, pretending to be her. Modjeska would occasionally give interviews at her Arden, well aware of the good publicity which came from such a celebrated woman talking about her favorite chickens or cow. But the “working” agricultural portion of Arden, overseen by the Count, would end up being the ranch’s ruin.

By 1906, it was evident that the ranching efforts at Arden were failing. The couple, generous to a fault, had also given away much of their fortune to aid friends and progressive causes they held dear. The Count, never good with money, had sunk them once again into debt. An ailing Modjeska reluctantly decided to sell her little piece of American heaven. In 1906, she sold the 1,341-acre ranch to the Townsend Dayman Investment Company for $40,000. That same year, Arden architect Stanford White was murdered by his lover Evelyn Nesbit’s husband, Harry Thaw, sparking the first “scandal of the century.”

In 1909, Modjeska died of Bright’s Disease in a small seaside cottage in Newport Beach. Her funeral at St. Vibiana’s attracted thousands. Later that year, the Count returned to Arden with two friends. He found a large boulder in the property’s creek and hauled it to a picturesque spot near the house, where the couple had spent so many free, happy days. On the boulder he affixed a small metal plaque, which bears the words “Madame Modjeska.” The boulder sits there, deep in Modjeska’s enchanted forest, to this very day.