Sat 28th March: Scotty’s Castle

In all of Death Valley National Park’s  5,220 square miles ( 2/3 the size of Wales) there is but one opulent, extravagant building: Scotty’s Castle. Scotty neither built nor owned it, but was instrumental in its creation. Here’s a summary of the unusual story.

Scotty was an adventurer and a conman who claimed that he had found gold in Death Valley in the early years of the 20^th century. He persuaded a number of investors from back East to put funds into his non-existent mine, including a Chicago businessman called Albert Johnson.

Johnson was rich, a millionaire, and also a mining engineer. After some years he decided to go and see this mine for himself. When he arrived in Death Valley he was confronted by a gunfight staged by Scotty, designed to scare him off, but Johnson was made of tougher stuff and stayed. He soon realised that there was no mine, but against all odds he and Scotty became firm friends.

Johnson thereafter frequently visited the valley with Scotty where the two enjoyed cowboy style living and adventures. Johnson came to believe that the hot dry climate was beneficial to his fragile health and thought a simple dwelling where he and his wife could live for part of the year would be a good idea. He found a good

site in one of the foothills with a large spring. Johnson’s wife was persuaded to view the location and fell in love with it.

However, ‘simple’ was not in Bessie Johnson’s vocabulary, so some of the best architects of the day were commissioned to design a suitably grand residence. Frank Lloyd Wright’s submission was rejected as too austere and they selected a Spanish Revival theme from another architect. It was started in 1922 and never fully finished. This is the premises.

On closer examination it’s a showpiece based on the in theme of the day for American millionaires. The great hall has a sort of plastic medieval film-set look. An interesting feature is that some of the walls were hollow to allow some of the spring water to flow through and provide cooling from the summer heat. Johnson the engineer was fascinated by technology, and incorporated the latest methods and gadgets wherever possible.

Of course the reason for the house’s extravagant appearance was to impress guests. This climaxed in the music room where whatever was playing on this piano (it played using cylinders) could be relayed throughout the estate from the bell tower outside. That’s the separate tower on the left in the first photo. 

The whole place is a time-capsule. Everything in it is original as installed by the Johnsons. This sideboard contains traditional Indian baskets made by the wives of the local Indian workers who laboured on the building of the castle, some of whom stayed on as estate workers. There’s even Bessie’s Singer sewing machine, bottom right. 

The house was powered by water turbine electricity, all concealed in a maze of underground tunnels that also ducted the cooling water into various rooms. The generator still works and was started up by our ranger guide; it illuminated some lightbulbs. 

Changes in water flow or sudden demands on the current caused the lights to flicker sometimes, and this got on perfectionist Johnson’s nerves. His solution was to install a massive bank of batteries that would accumulate the current and then release it at a uniform rate. The batteries are still there and in working order.

Hot water was created from thermal energy, making Johnson one of the earliest eco warriors. His ingenuity was more from necessity than any thoughts of saving the planet, but it worked really well. Spring water was run through metal containers (not now there) supported by the wooden framework in the photo. The fierce sun heated up the water that was then stored in the large insulated tank behind before being pumped into the house via the service tunnels. 

Scotty himself, full name Walter Scott, was well provided for. He had the run of the “castle” and Johnson even built him a place of his own on the estate. Johnson’s will also left Scotty the use of the place should he survive him, which he did by 6 years, and is in fact buried on a small hill behind the house.

There were separate guest quarters, stables and garaging for several vehicles. Johnson’s favourite was a 7 seater 1914 Packard, a bit ancient in the mid 20’s, but a quality car in which they would trundle round the valley if not riding horses. What sort of bone jarring ride the car gave is anyone’s guess with its solid tyres on rough dirt roads.

There was a lot more detail to the story. Like Death Valley itself, it had more depth and interest than was first apparent.

Death Valley was indeed a unique and rewarding experience. Now onwards and upwards, to Lake Isabella.