Full text of "California; an intimate history"

See other formats

■iSi

:. ■■J 1

"0!

."Ji

iHlHii^jRP

IBaml

f- vj.v..fv.j- .-. . ....•,o<j.,.i4*Ai. i^,i.-v . , ... > , -..1^ ■ •:■ . ■■-■j^jr- -^h.

'^te&Btxteb to
of ii]t

^ntligrgtty of Toronto

Robert B. Johnston

and
Editha W. Johnston

4\»V^

P SAN DfJEGO

...Ji

™j

<J^ct.^tc£. /■ /cr£-c.<..ii,./-oL.c.<^

■

Digitized by tine Internet Arciiive

in 2007 witii funding from

IVIicrosoft Corporation

littp://www.arcliive.org/details/californiaintimaOOatlieuoft

^•

CALIFORNIA

Books by
GERTRUDE ATHERTON

[PUBLISHED BY HARPER & BROTHERSl

The Story op California. Illustrated. Crown 8vo

Rulers of Kings. Post 8vo

The Bell in the Fog. Frontispiece Portrait. Post 8vo

The Travelling Thirds. Post 8vo

Ancestors. (Californian.) Post 8vo

[published elsewhere]

NOVELS AND STORIES OF CALIFORNIA

Rezanov (1806) ) To be issued in one volume.

The Doomswoman (1840) > " Before the Gringo Came"

The Splendid Idle Forties (1800-46)

The Valiant Runaways (1840)

A Daughter of the Vine (The Sixties)

American Wives and English Husbands

(The Eighties)
The Calipornians (The Eighties)
A Whirl Asunder (The Nineties)

OTHER NOVELS AND STORIES

Perch of the Devil

Patience Spabhawk and Heb Times

Senator North

His Fortunate Grace

The Gorgeous Isle

Mrs. Pendleton's Foub-in-Hand

The Aristocrats

Tower of Ivory

Julia France and Her Times

BIOGRAPHY
The Conqueror
A Few op Hamilton's Lettbbs

This monument was
erected in San Fran-
cisco, September g,
1897^ to commemorate
the admission of Cali-
fornia to the Union,
September 9, 1850, and
dedicated to the Native
Sons of the Golden
West. The sculptor
was Douglas Tilden, a
native of California,
and the monument was
presented to the city
by James D. Phelan.

..^ma^^^^Ma^mtM

THE NATIVE SONS FOUNTAIN

Al ^1

CALIFORNIA

AN INTIMATE HISTORY

Gertrude Atherton

ILLUSTRATED

HARPER &• BROTHERS PUBLISHERS

NEW YORK AND LONDON

MCMXIV

,iiiL2i1953

'siry of

852181

PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
PUBLISHED OCTOBER. 1914

JAMES D. PHELAN

THIS STORY OF THE CALIFORNIA TO

WHOM HE HAS ALWAYS BEEN FAITHFUL

CONTENTS

CHAP. PAGE

I. The Geological Drama i

II. The Mission Padres 15

III. The Spanish Governors — I 36

IV. The Spanish Governors — II 47

V. The Mexican Governors — I 62

VI. The Mexican Governors — II 78

VII. Fremont and the Bear-flag Revolution 94

VIII. Gold 116

IX. San Francisco 130

X. Crime and Fire 144

XL Politics 162

XII. James King of Wm 174

XIII. The Vigilance Committee of 1856 190

XIV. The Vigilance Committee and David S. Terry . . . 201

XV. Broderick 218

XVI. Broderick and Gwin 230

XVII. The Broderick-Terry Duel 249

XVIII. The War 263

XIX. The Terrible Seventies 272

XX. The Chinese in California 282

XXI. "The Chinese Must Go" 290

XXII. Last Phases 308

ILLUSTRATIONS

The Native Sons' Fountain Frontispiece

From a photograph by Charles Weidner.

Kaweah Mountains, near Kern River Canon . . .Facing p. 6
Three Brothers, Showing the Merced River .... " 12

From a photograph by Taber.

Glacier Point, 3,300 Feet, and South Dome " 12

From a photograph by Taber.

Statue of Padre Junipero Serra " 18

From a photograph by Charles Weidner.

Santa Barbara Mission — Founded 1786 " 28

From a photograph by Graham & Morrill;

San Gabriel Mission (First Gold Found in 1842) . . " 28

From a photograph by Graham & Morrill.

Don Jose de la Guerra " 80

Don Pablo de la Guerra " 80

From a photograph in the Charles B. Turrill collection.

Gen. Don Jose Castro " 80

From a photograph loaned by Delfina de la Guerra.

Casa Grande, the Home of the De la Guerras ..." 90

From a photograph loaned by Delfina de la Guerra.

John A. Sutter " 102

From a photograph in the Charles B. Turrill collection.

James W. Marshall " 102

Gen. John C. Fremont " 102

From Harper's Weekly, i860.

Gen. M. G. Vallejo " 102

From a photograph by Taber loaned by Delfina de la Guerra.

Sonoma Mission " 104

Mission Sam Juan Bautista " 104

Sutter's Fort as It Was in 1848 " 116

From California Illustrated, 1853.

March of the Car.wan " ii8

From The Expedition of the Donner Party.

From "London Punch," i860 " 122

The "El Dorado" Gambling Saloon " 122

From Annals of San Francisco.

vii

ILLUSTRATIONS

Sacramento, California, 1850 Facing p. 136

From The United Slates Illustrated. Published by H. J. Meyer.

San Francisco " 136

From an old print.

First Admission-Day Celebration, 1850, California and

Montgomery Streets " 168

From an old print.

James King of Wm " 174

From a photograph in the Charles B. Turrill collection.

Back of a Typical Letter-sheet Such as was Used for

Personal Letters to Correspondents "East" . . " 186

From an old print in the Charles B. Turrill collection.

Fort Vigilance, or Fort Gunnybags. William T. Cole-
man, President of the Committee of Vigilance. . " 210

From a photograph in the Charles B. Turrill collection.

David C. Broderick " 252

Col. E. D. Baker " 252

David S. Terry " 252

William M. Gwin " 252

William C. Ralston [Insert], who Frequently Took His
Guests to Yosemite and Big Trees, was the First

TO Drive a Four-in-hand through "Wawona" . . " 274

James D. Phelan " 310

From a photograph by Hartsook.

Judge Lawlor " 320

From a photograph by Vaughan & Fraser.

Rudolph Spreckels " 320

From a photograph by Habenicht

Francis J. Heney " 320

Fremont Older " 320

From a photograph by Estey.

Gov. Hiram Johnson " 324

From a photograph by Pach Brothers.

Prune-orchard " 328

From a photograph in the Charles B. Turrill collection.

Wheat-field " 328

From a photograph in the Charles B. Turrill collection.

In compressing the history of California, a state of
unexampled variety and crowding interest, an uncommon
number of personalities and dramatic incidents, into one
volume it is only possible to select the main historic
events for treatment, connecting them with a synopsis of
the contributing causes and illustrating them with all the
personalities and anecdotes available. The details neces-
sarily sacrificed are so well worth reading, however, that
I shall feel I more than doubly have achieved my purpose
in telling this strange tale of California in rapid narrative
if I have stimulated an interest that will send readers to
Theodore A. Hittell's History of California (four voltunes) ;
Bancroft's many volumes on the Pacific coast; Josiah
Royce's California (one volume and dealing mainly with
Fremont) ; Jeremiah Lynch's Senator of the Fifties (Brod-
erick) ; the memoirs of William M. Gwin and of Stephen J.
Field; the various books relating to the Vigilance Com-
mittee of 1856, and to a possible reprint of that delightful
and useful volume, The Annals of San Francisco, by
Soul6, Gihon, and Nisbit, from which all historians of the
period between 1849 and 1854 have drawn, with never
an acknowledgment. For those interested in the later
political history of the state, and particularly of San
Francisco, there are the "Report on the Causes of Mu-
nicipal Corruption in San Francisco," etc., made by a
committee appointed by Mayor Taylor in 1908, of which
Mr. William Denman, always keenly interested in the

reform of the city, was chairman, and a forthcoming
volume called The System, by Franklin Hichbom, who
made a thorough investigation of the records of the San
Francisco graft prosecution before they began to take
wings.

To those interested in the geology of the state there are
the works of Professor Whitney, chief of the first Pacific
Coast Geodetic Survey sent out by the United States
government in the early 60 's; that impeccable classic
by a member of his staff, Clarence King, Mountaineering
in the Sierra Nevada; the works of John Muir, George
Davidson, and of Professor Le Conte of the University
of California.

I have striven to be as accurate as history— never
accurate — will permit, while writing an interesting story
— or a paradoxical drama — ^but I have enjoyed the reading
of the many authorities as much as my own work, and
therefore confidently recommend to Califomians, at least,
a thorough course in California history.

If I used the word "paradox " just now it was because
I suddenly remembered how many good men we have pro-
duced in California and what bad history they have suc-
ceeded in making.

Gertrude Atherton.

New York, August 11, JQ14.

CALIFORNIA

THE GEOLOGICAL DRAMA

When Caspar de Portola discovered the Bay of San
Francisco in 1769 he found the surroiinding country in-
habited by Indians whose ancestors had dwelt on the
peninsula and among the Marin hills ever since that
uneasy coast had been hospitable to man. From them
he heard the tradition that some two hundred years
earlier the space covered by the great inland sheet of
water had been a valley, fertile and beautiful, broken
by hills and watered by two rivers that rose in the far
north and found their outlet to the sea through Lake
Merced. Then came a mighty earthquake, the valley
sank, the hills of the coast were rent apart, the salt waters
rushed in and covered not only the sunken valley floor,
but all save the tips of its hills. A man on the peak of
Mount Tamalpais might have seen the whole terrific
drama, and then, later, marveled at the justice of Nature.
Only the end of the fertile Central Valley was gone, and
in its place the Pacific coast had been presented with one
of the three great harbors of the world.

There are certain facts that give a strong color to the
truth of this legend; and, although it makes a geologist

CALIFORNIA

Writhe even to intimate that any significant physical
phenomena can have taken place within the historic era,
the layman is sometimes reminded that the most con-
servative students of the rocks do not always maintain
the theories they have inherited, or even advanced, long
enough to permit them to grow quite hoary with age.
The reader, therefore, is invited to take his choice.

It was on June 17, 1579, that Drake cast anchor in the
little bay that bears his name. It is but fifteen miles
north of the Golden Gate. He not only disembarked and
lived with his officers inotents for thirty-six days, but took
excursions over the Marin hills and valleys under the
guidance of the friendly Indians who besought him to
remain and be their king. Drake neither heard nor saw
anything of this superb green jewel of otirs; if he had,
England, instead of being profoundly indifferent to the
strip of land he dutifully took possession of in the name
of the crown, would have grabbed it promptly. Even if
he had sailed up the coast of California there would have
been nothing remarkable in his oversight, provided he had
not lingered in his little cove; for the long narrow cleft
between the hills known as the Golden Gate is often ob-
literated by fog. But that after his long sojourn, dur-
ing which he must have climbed Tamalpais and roamed
the hills above Sausalito, he should have left the coast
in ignorance of this inland tract of water, dotted with
beautiful islands and large enough to harbor the com-
bined navies of the world, is incredible save on the
hypothesis that it did not exist. For all we know Drake
and his party may have picnicked in the glades on the
lower slope of Belvedere, now many fathoms beneath the
green nervous waters of the bay.

THE GEOLOGICAL DRAMA

The great valley of the Yosemite looks as if miles had
been neatly sliced out of a high plateau and dropped like
a plummet into the yawning earth; the walls are often
perpendicular, rising to the height of several thousand
feet. Professor Whitney admits that the bottom may
have dropped out of the space covered by the present
valley floor, although, being a wary geologist, he hastens
to add that it was probably at a time when that section
of the earth was semi- viscid.^ Even conservative geolo-
gists admit that the subsidence which forms the Golden
Gate and filled the end of the Central Valley with sea-
water occurred in later Pleistocene — that is to say, only
about forty thousand years ago. But it is a mere idiosyn-
crasy of the scientific mind which persists in relegating
any phenomenon of which it has not positive historical
data to as remote a period geologically as the rocks will
stand. An earthquake which metamorphosed some fifty
miles of coast-land, however quick in action, was no more
phenomenal than the performances of the Mississippi
Valley in 1811-12, of Krakatoa in 1883, nor that titanic
convulsion in India in 1762, when all but the higher parts
of an area of sixty square miles of coast sank beneath the
sea. For several days after the California earthquake of
1906, when San Francisco for a long minute seemed to
fight with the very roots of the earth for release, govern-
ment boats were to be seen daily in the bay taking sound-
ings; much apprehension was felt lest the profoimd dis-
turbance of its floor may have rendered it unnavigable, and
closed the commercial history of the state.

James Perrin Smith, to quote but one of many authori-

^ Glacial erosion is the popular belief to-day, but to one brought up in an
earthquake country the old theory seems more natural.

CALIFORNIA

tative writers on the disturbance of 1906, has this to say
in Science, September 10, 1909: "The last phase of the
physical history of the western coast is the recent sub-
sidence that allowed the sea to encroach on the river-
valleys forming the Bay of San Francisco and other bays
along the coast. This has been going on in almost modern
times, for Indian shell-mounds, apparently made by the
same race that still exists in California, have been flooded
by the continued subsidence of the Bay of San Francisco."
It must be borne in mind that a geologist's modem
time is not ours; but, as there is no evidence that Indians
were living in California during any of the interglacial
periods, nor, in all likelihood, for many years after the
end of the Pleistocene — ^some twenty-five thousand years
ago — we may believe, if we like, that the Bay of San
Francisco is post-Drakian.

Far more sharply outlined and more independent of its
Indian traditions is the history of the Salton Sea. There
is no doubt that when Francisco de UUoa explored the
Gulf of California in 1539 that long arm of the sea differed
little if any from its present channel and termination.
Its lost two hundred miles, to be known by us as Salton
Sink, had run their course from a dismembered part of
the Great Pacific Ocean, down through long geological ages
to a mere desert of salt.

The enemy here was the Colorado River, whose mouth
was then some sixty miles east of its present location.
It built, with true geological leisure, the delta that
gradually separated the headwaters of the gulf from its
main supply. This creature of a sovereign and cruel
river was alternately toyed with and neglected ; sometimes
rejuvenated with an abundant stream of fresh -water,

THE GEOLOGICAL DRAMA

when his majesty, the Colorado, tired of the less respon-
sive gulf, abruptly swung aside and poured his offerings
into the lake. But his long periods of neglect grew longer,
the stranded sea contracted, its waters more and more
alkaline ; deserted, finally, it fell a victim to the dry winds
of the desert, its aqueous history at an end for a thousand
years. The Salton's chief title to fame other than
spectacular is its depression below sea-level, 273.5 feet,
a distinction it shares with but one other tract of land in
the United States.

But although as recently as 190 1 the Salton Sea looked
as ancient and as dead as the moon, its history was not
finished. During that year the Colorado River, via the
Alamo and the New rivers, made one of its old capricious
visits, overflowed the Salton Sink, threatened a section
of the Southern Pacific Railroad with destruction, and
obHterated a great corporation industry. It flooded the
Sink, burying the productive salt -beds fifty feet deep.
In the autumn of 1906 the Southern Pacific Company
managed to shut it off, only to do battle once more in
December, and again to conquer. Whether the science and
determination of man will prevail against one of the most
irresistible and wickedly resourceful forces of the Western
Hemisphere remains to be seen. The river that made the
Grand Cafion of Arizona, gnawing out mile after mile of
solid rock, fighting Nattire herself at every step, is likely
to fume and fret imder the harness of man and, finally,
to take a swift revenge.

But both the San Francisco Bay and the Salton Sea,
whatever their birth-dates, are the youngest of California's
phenomena children, bom in the last of her throes, pic-
turesque hostages that her monstrous labors were over,

CALIFORNIA

that, save for an occasional spasm along her earthquake
rift, she would make geological history no more.

California, according to conservative geologists, reading
the tale of the Archean rocks in the Sierra Nevada range,
began her life some himdred and fifty million years ago.
But it was not until the latter part of the Palasozoic era,
some thirty million years ago, that an uplift began along
the axis of the range, manifesting itself in outpourings of
lavas and other volcanic ejecta. And it was not until
several million years later, in Jurassic times, that these
strange and formidable masses of rock, still insignificant
in height, estabHshed themselves permanently above the
epicontinental sea.

They are the oldest of California's children, sole sur-
vivors of the extrusive eon, during which life made its
first negligible appearance on the globe. As the range
rose higher and higher during vast succeeding reaches of
geological time the Sierra witnessed the gradual unfold-
ing of the California drama; destined itself to undergo
many and terrific changes, it was the solitary spectator of
the heroic and often thwarted struggle for existence of a
younger range of mountains, born of the sea.

At first the Sierra looked west over an illimitable
expanse of gray water that washed its very base. What-
ever folding and crumpling might be going on under that
stormy surface, it was many million years before a long
low chain of rocks lifted its heads and tarried long enough
to be so eroded that man — ^when, some forty million years
later, he developed the scientific brain — should read the
story as the old Sierra saw it. They were smothered for
eons again, not only by the sea, but by sediments many
thousands of feet deep, to be known later as the Franciscan

o
>

THE GEOLOGICAL DRAMA

or Golden Gate series. The boldest of the peninsula's
headlands, Telegraph Hill, and the present islands in the
bay are of sandstone interspersed with shales and rocks
of peculiar interest to the geologist, not only for their age
and record, but for their coats of many colors.

In late Jurassic or early Cretaceous times, some twenty
million years after its first baffled attempt to live, the coast,
including what are now its bay shores and islands, then
but a part of the range, was born again. Folded and
faulted on the sea's uneasy floor, the mass was pushed up
into the light at last and permitted to grow and breathe,
and harden and erode, and signal across a gray cold sea to
the stately first-born of the west — for nearly a million
years. Then down she went once more, and the Pacific
stood on end and rushed with tidal ferocity at the in-
vincible Sierra.

But the Coast Range, if her ambitions were curtailed,
did not waste her time. During that long period of sub-
mergence she accumulated those deposits of fossiliferous.
Cretaceous, Eocene, and Miocene treasures, so beloved
of her students to-day. The sediments of the last period
alone attained a thickness of eight thousand feet. This
took time, and it was not until some twelve million years
after her first appearance, and during the Miocene, that
she got her hydra-headed masses out again. The faulting
and crumpling and folding and deformation went on dur-
ing that vast reach of time until, bombarded from below,
the reluctant sea parted and there rose at last a real range
of mountains, oscillating and bowing through the mists
to the Sierra, who thought that her long and lonely
watch was ended. But alas! Reckoning geologically,
which was all the time she knew, her companionship was

CALIFORNIA

brief. In late Pliocene the Coast Range subsided once
more, and only a long low chain of hills held their heads
obstinately above the sea and broke the ponderous at-
tacks of the Sierra's old enemy.

It was during the Pliocene, late Tertiary, about six hun-
dred thousand years ago, that the Coast Range achieved
her wonderful series of deposits known as the Merced,
which may be seen to-day along the edge of the ocean
near San Francisco. The deposit is a mile in thickness,
and at its base is what the sea has left of an old pine forest.
During the last submergence it went down some five
thousand feet, and so rapidly that the trees were buried
under sediment before they could decay. In the upper
beds are fossils of Recent Quartenary, which began (to
be conservative) but twenty-five thousand years ago.
Their elevation has been more gradual than their descent,
and they are now tilted up at an almost perpendicular
angle and dislocated by a fault.

It was not long before that doughty coast proved —
what all geologists now admit — ^that her disposition, un-
daunted by cruel vicissitudes, is to grow, and not long
after her subsidence she began once more to rise. At one
time, indeed (early Quartenary), she stood some three
thousand feet higher than now, if we read aright the tale
of her submerged cations, eroded by other elements than
the sea. But although she was forced to accept a later
subsidence — ^no doubt to fill a hole in ocean's floor — she
kept her heads out, as we have seen, and she has been
growing ever since.

It was at the beginning of the Miocene that certain
faulting and folding developed the great earthquake rift
of California. That was something over two million

THE GEOLOGICAL DRAMA

years ago, and one shudders to think what it must have
done in its heyday. For that old wound has never
healed ; every.f orty or fifty years the Coast Range has an
acute attack of Miocene fever, accompanied by spasms
and followed by many minor protests at this long chastise-
ment of nature.

But these are merely the pangs of old age, which she
endures with more equanimity than we do, ruminating as
she must upon the visitations of her youth and maturity;
and not only upon those painful births, deaths, burials,
and reincarnations, but that terrific vulcanic period when
she was forced to tear apart her smooth yotmg flanks and
the most lofty and aspiring of her brows to disgorge into
the shrinking central sea the molten masses the earth
could no longer contain.

That, of course, was the most spectacular era of our
Western Hemisphere's history, but the great Sierra herself
was too fully occupied letting the fiery blood of the
swollen patient to observe and admire the new activities
of her interesting neighbor. But to the men in the moon,
whose atmosphere as it sank inward may have been
converted, for aught we know (all things being so wonder-
ful at that time) , into a powerful lens, it must have been a
stupendous drama : that red and roaring world, dulling the
music of the spheres, ten hundred thousand thousand
flames distorted into as many shapes, and seen fitfully
through a smoky curtain rent with boiling rock magma.

The igneous activities began with the close of the
Cretaceous period and reached its climax some seven
million years later in the Miocene, although by no means
its end. Of course, the Coast Range, being swallowed
periodically, was unable to discharge her share of the

CALIFORNIA

obligation during all of that time, but making due al-
lowance for periods of rest — throughout long geologic
ages — ^and these mean tens of thousands of years at best —
torrents of flaming lava poured incessantly from the lofty
craters and the mangled sides of both of California's
mountain-chains. Before the waters retreated during the
early Pliocene the central sea was a steaming hissing
cauldron, hiding the throes of one range from the other,
and after that the valley was dry and scorched, the thick
Miocene deposits pelted with red-hot rocks and ash.
Gradually, however, the valley floor was raised and built
up by sediment, and during those intervals, now and then,
when the plutonic energy of the moimtains ceased, the
ranges, scarred and battered but serene, smiled at each
other across a magnificent valley, dotted with lakes
and groves of trees, and, no doubt, ancient and fearsome
monsters, now happily extinct save in museums.

And dtuing all these measureless eons, while her
neighbor was tossed aloft or recalled to stop a hole in the
sea, the Sierra had many and varied trials of her own,
holding her breath for centuries, wondering if she, too,
were to be engulfed, if that persistent, ponderous, roaring
ocean meant to devour her. There had been compression
and faulting at the end of the Palaeozoic, as well as some
igneous activity and, later, erosion. The whole range,
about eleven milUon years ago, at the close of the Jurassic,
was once more compressed, folded, and then triumphantly
uplifted. But the elements peneplained her imtil the close
of the Miocene, and the sea tore at her roots unceasingly,
although never again to dislodge them. Rivers wore
away her surfaces, to lay the floor of the central sea
until she was some four thousand feet lower than she is

THE GEOLOGICAL DRAMA

to-day. It was during this period, when the vast Eocene
sea threatened her existence, and she was torpid with fear
and exhaustion, that her "aged rivers'* rescued the gold
from her battered veins and, crawling downward with
their heavy burden, disgorged it into the lower canons, or
carried it out into the sea between the ranges, where it
sank into the rising beds of future rivers.

In the late Miocene, or early Pliocene, the central
waters receded for ever, and the Sierra, dtiring a long and
blessed interval between igneous violence, was elevated
again, and her streams, like herself, rejuvenated. During
these intervals of repose she no doubt was almost as
beautiful as she is to-day; although the cations and
scenery of the highest portions of the range are post-
Tertiary, the work of the ice-chisels, her vigorous streams
carved deep cafions into her lower slopes, quite as fine as
those cut into the lost pedestal of the Coast Range.

Then once more her great chimneys sent forth their
pillars of flame and smoke and were answered by the
watch-fires on the heights opposite, and the valley was
pounded with rock and covered with lava and dust and the
bones of monsters, for which there was no escape.

To this long age of alternate turmoil and the heavy
fatigue of convalescence, or the brief periods of rejuvena-
tion and beauty, succeeded an epoch of terrible repose.
After the trial by fire the ptmishment of the ice. Al-
though California was too far south to be included in the
great ice-sheet that came down out of the north in the
Pleistocene (glacial) era she had an ice age of her own
which, with the interglacial periods, lasted some five
hundred thousand years.

Diuing the greater part of this time the Sierra was

CALIFORNIA

covered with a continuous sheet of ice. The crystal
masses were packed into every canon and river and lake,
covered every crag and table-land, rose in frozen waves
from the dead craters of a thousand volcanoes. The ice
laid its heavy weight on the harsh outlines of the moun-
tains, mighty hands grasping a million little chisels to
carve the high caiions, the pinnacles and domes and
turrets, the arches and lacework and spires, that make
the Sierra Nevada a thing of wonder to-day.

It was the turn of the Coast Range, less afflicted, to
watch and admire and hold its breath in the face of
that stupendous beauty which only death cotild create.
For silent interminable centuries the crystal mountains
flashed prismatically in the simlight or lay white and cold
under the gray mists that rose from the frozen earth.
Then came the first long interglacial period, when the ice-
sheets crept down the mountainsides, carrying great
masses of decayed material to choke the Central Valley,
whose lakes and rivers, released from the long and bitter
winter, sparkled in a warmth and sunshine almost
forgotten.

The rocks breathed again and called to the green hills
of the coast, protected by the milder currents of the
Pacific, from the assault of the ice, but only for a brief
space of fifty to a hundred thousand years. Like the
Coast Range, during her earlier trials, the Sierra was
engulfed again, not by a vast and restless sea, but equally
helpless under snow-fields and ice-sheets.

But all things come to an end, temporarily at least.
The Coast Range witnessed the last of the interglacial
periods, the last of the ice descents which is behind us;
life struggled from below the soil ; the mountainsides and

■

,«wi'' tt,

THE GEOLOGICAL DRAMA

the Central Valley turned green; acorns that had slept
for centuries side by side with the nuggets torn from the
veins of the high Sierra, stirred and swelled, and pushed
their way out of the softened earth ; trees burst from the
mountainsides and lined her canons. From the moun-
tains of Asia wandered in due course what we call the
Rocky Moimtain goat, a beautiful spirited creature, as
white as the polar bear. He is the surest proof that the
Indians of our west came from the same region, following
in his wake, or driving him before them. That was before
a narrow neck of land between the hemispheres broke
in two.

It is only twenty-five thousand years since the end of
the ice age (or so we believe at this writing). Forests on
the moimtainsides, protected from the cold and blustering
winds of the Pacific, rose and fell, were born and died,
living for a longer period, perhaps, than man and the
elements permit to-day. No one knows. The Merced
book was old and closed long before Asia conceived the
myth of Noah. The "Big Trees" {sequoia gigantea) are
believed to have lived in Tertiary times, a few of their
roots or seeds surviving the ice, to father those in exist-
ence to-day. It is estimated that there may have been a
time when these trees, peculiar to a few hundred miles
of the Pacific coast, flourished for five thousand years
instead of a paltry fifteen hundred. Certainly the miser-
able degenerate Asiatics we call Indians — nowhere farther
below the standards of the white races than in California
— did not disturb them. The savages cut young trees for
their wigwams or huts, as they lived on hares and goats
and the rich products of the valley's soil which Nature
planted and tended and watered.

CALIFORNIA

But the great trees of the Sierra awaited the coming
not merely of the white man, but of the genus Americana
to fall before anything but storm and. time. There is no
historic proof, but it seems indubitable that the men of
the early surveying parties, or the emigrants who followed
in their footsteps, who were obliged to build cabins in the
Sierra, were the first to lay an ax to the roots of the
great sequoia. The missions were built of adobe and were
far from the redwood forests. The ranch-houses were all
built of adobe, and so was Sutter's Fort, although he was
close to the oak-trees of the Sacramento Valley. The
redwoods felled by Luis Arguello were in the Coast Range
and of an inferior variety. As a nation we are prone to
hitch our wagon to a star, and we therefore lay claim to
be the direct connecting-link between a time, reckoned —
as time goes and as typified by the Sierra — at a hundred
and fifty million years, and the apologetic modem period
which will follow this chapter.

THE MISSION PADRES

California's historic period began very late. When
New England was burning witches on the green, and the
South was dancing the minuet, and New York was foimd-
ing an aristocracy out of Dutch burghers, this vast and
lovely tract, with a soil as rich. as the minerals within her,
was peopled by a few Indian tribes, so stupid that they
rarely learned one another's language, so lethargic that
they rarely fought. The squaws did what work was done;
the bucks basked in the sun for eight months in the year,
and during the brief winter sweated out their always
negligible energies in the temescals.

Nevertheless, there were strange legends about Cali-
fornia, and in the light of her actual inhabitants it would
be interesting to trace their origin. When Ordonez de
Montalvo wrote his astonishing yam all the world (at that
time principally a Spanish world) believed that the vari-
ously located California was a land of "romantic wonders
and fabulous riches, splendid cities and vast magazines
of wealth." There was a legendary "seven golden cities "
which, Cortez failing to find during his visit to the southern
peninsula in 1535, were later relegated to the western base
of the great Sierra rampart. Montalvo begins his assur-
ance to a credulous world in this wise :

Be it known unto you that at the right hand of the Indies [sic] there
was an island formed of the largest rocks known and called California,

2 IS

CALIFORNIA

very near to the terrestrial Paradise. This island was inhabited by ro-
bust dark women of great strength and great warm hearts, who lived
almost as Amazons, and no man lived among them. Their weapons
and the trappings of the wild beasts which they rode after taming
them were entirely of gold, and no other metal existed on the island.
The people lived in well-hewn caves. They had many ships in which
they made excursions to other countries, where they caught men whom
they carried away and subsequently killed. During periods of peace
with their neighbors they commingled with them without restraint.
When children were born the females were preserved, but the males
were killed at once, saving only those required to guard against de-
population, so that their domination over the land would be securely
maintained.

There were many griffins on the island, and they were a great
torment. There were also an infinite ntmiber of wild beasts which
are found in no other part of the world. When these animals had
young the women went to fetch them and carried them, covered with
heavy skins, to their caves, and there bred them and fed them with
the men and male children. The women brought up these animals
with such skill that they knew them well and did them no harm, and
they attacked and killed any man who entered the island and ate him ;
and when their appetite was sated they would take them up flying into
the air and let them fall from great heights, killing them instantly.

This quotation, from a once famous book, is interesting,
if only to reveal what a Spaniard of the sixteenth century-
believed to constitute a "great warm heart" in woman.

Certain romantic writers and even historians connected
California with Asia via what we now call Newfoundland,
and many expeditions were fitted out by Spain in the
hope of discovering this golden land and claiming it in the
name of God and the king.

But California might have taken one of her ancient
dips beneath the sea, so elusive did she prove until 1542,
when Cabrillo, convinced that the beautiful coast rising
before his galleons was California (or might as well be),
sailed into two of its bays and named them San Diego and
Monterey. He took note of a country rich in scenery and

THE MISSION PADRES

naked savages, but with no visible Amazons or gold.
He died, and his captain, Farello, sailed as far north as
Cape Mendocino, and so did Viscaino in the following
century. Neither saw anything of the Golden Gate and
the great inland sheet of water encircled by hills.

California, in spite of these formal acts of possession —
the erection of cross and flag — seems to have lost her lure.
Mexico (New Spain) already covered an immense area,
in great part imexplored, much of it infested by savages,
and but sparsely populated by the Spaniard. None
of the explorers had learned aught of the fertile central
valleys of California or of the golden skeleton within her.
The Jesuits, against incredible odds, made repeated
attempts to colonize that long strip of land that still
belongs to Mexico, called Baja (Lower) California, and
Christianize the Indians. But the country was so barren
and arid that almost all material sustenance was brought
from the other side of the gulf, and the Indians did not
take kindly to the spiritual. Although the hardy priests
managed to interest Spain to some extent in the pearl-
fisheries, the beds could be ravaged without financing mis-
sions, and the poor padres were supported mainly by
private funds. In 1768 Spain drove the Jesuits out of all
her possessions, and those in Baja California were forced
to abandon the Indians after seventy years of devoted but
almost futile labors in a cause to which they had given not
only their youth and strength, but their personal means.
They left CaHfomia, still believing it to be an island,
and having made no attempt to penetrate Alta (Upper)
California, which they also assumed to be an island and
bounded on the north by the "Straits of Amien."

But California's first and greatest pioneer was born,

CALIFORNIA

and her historic period was to begin in 1769, the year
after the expulsion of the Jesuits.

Twenty years earHer a priest had left Spain for Mexico
and spent the intervening time either in the College of
San Fernando or the lonely perilous missions of the Sierra
Gorda. His piety and exaltation were on every tongue,
and by many he was hailed as the most remarkable man
of his order since it was founded by his prototype, Francis
of Assisi. His name was Junipero Serra. There is a
monument erected in his honor in the Golden Gate Park
of San Francisco, and another overlooks the harbor of
Monterey. No name shines in the brief history of
California with a brighter and more persistent luster.
While he looked nine-tenths spirit, and no doubt was, and
was endowed with a humility and simplicity of mind that
permitted him to see a miracle in every meager bit of
good luck that fell to his share, he was the bom pioneer,
resourceful, practical, indomitable. He knew no obstacle
where the glory of the Church was concerned; neither
weary leagues infested by hostile tribes, nor the racking
ills of his own frail body.

Simultaneously with the expulsion of the Jesuits the
Franciscans determined to succeed where the rival order
had failed. They were encouraged by Charles III., King
of Spain, one of the most enlightened princes of his time.
He was quite willing to save the souls of the pestilential
savages if it could be done, but his ardent missionaries
were a cloak for his ultimate design; he purposed to
occupy and settle that land of all possibilities, explored
along eight hundred miles of its coast by Cabrillo, Farello,
and Viscaino — to say nothing of the insolent foreigner,
Drake, who had presumed to call the land New Albion-^

STATUE OF PADRE JUNIPERO SERRA

He was the founder of the California missions. He was hailed as the rnost re-
markable man of his order since it was founded by his prototype, Francis of Assisi

THE MISSION PADRES

thus linking it inseparably to the Spanish crown. The
spiritual expedition was placed as a matter of course in
charge of Junipero Serra, and he and his little band of
priests went first to Loreto to re-establish the missions of
Baja California. They arrived on Good Friday, April i,
1768, with orders to separate to the different mission
establishments left by the Jesuits and, while saving souls
by baptism, await further orders from Don Jose de
Galvez, who had been appointed Visitador - general and
charged with the execution of the real purpose of the king.

Galvez arrived in Loreto two months later and held a
long consultation with Father Fr. Junipero Serra, who,
as president of the California missions, was almost his
equal in authority. They mutually agreed that forces
and missionaries should be sent early in the following
year by land and sea to take formal possession of Alta
California.

Serra at this time was fifty-five years old; his body was
wasted by fasting and scourging and tireless missionary
work, but animated by one of the most remarkable wills
ever developed in the psychical anatomy. Although three
ships had been placed at the disposal of the explorers, he
elected to go with one of the land expeditions, which, of
course, meant traversing hundreds of thorny miles either
on foot or the back of a mule.

The ships sailed (one of them was lost). The first of
the two land expeditions started under the leadership of
Capt. Rivera y Moncada. The second was in charge of
Capt. Caspar de Portola (also appointed governor of Cali-
fornia), and left Loreto on March 9, 1769. Serra was to
have ridden at the head of this party, but was forced to re-
main behind and in bed for several days. Since his arrival

CALIFORNIA

in Mexico in 1749, when he had insisted upon walldng
from Vera Cruz to the City of Mexico for the glory of God,
he had suffered from a painful ulcer in the leg, which was
constantly irritated by his arduous and unremitting labors
and received no attention from this devoted servant of the
Church until he collapsed from weakness.

On March 25 th, accompanied by two soldiers and a
servant, he began his march over roads that might have
been designed by Nature in her most vicious geological
mood to test his unfaltering spirit. Baja California is
little more than a rough mountain-chain, parched, stony,
already blistering at this time of the year imder a tropic
sun. The only game was rattlesnake.

Serra's leg became so swollen that it threatened not only
to become insupportably painful, but useless. But re-
monstrance availed not ; resting but a day or two at the
successive missions (where the beds were probably boards) ,
he continued his march, losing himself in religious medita-
tion or dreams of the beautiful land he was about to
redeem. Mind triumphed over matter (aided by an
opportune mule-doctor who poulticed him with herbs) ; he
caught up with Portola in May. On July ist they arrived
on the shores of the Bay of San Diego and found the party
of explorers that had preceded them camped in the sandy
valley, and two of the ships in the harbor. Serra went
to work the day he arrived upon the latent religious
sensibilities of a particularly suspicious and bloodthirsty
tribe of Indians. First he celebrated mass, and then he
made them presents.

Portola gave them their first taste of beef. He and
Capt. Rivera y Moncada had driven before them the
ancestors of the herds and flocks the Americans foimd

THE MISSION PADRES

in the California valleys three - quarters of a century
later.

Portola, having seen his missionaries and their guard
safe, as he supposed, within a stockade, set out on the
14th of July to rediscover the Bay of Monterey. He was
accompanied not only by his peons and a large body-
guard of soldados de cuera (leather- jacketed soldiers), but
by Capt. Rivera y Moncada, Don Pedro Pages, Don
Miguel Constanzo (engineer), Father Gomez, and Father
Crespi — to whose diary the historian is so deeply indebted.
A train of mules carried provisions for the journey. But
Portola could not find the Bay of Monterey. Indifferent
to the Bay of San Francisco^ which, pushing on north,
he inadvertently discovered, and convinced that the bay
most famous among California explorers had disappeared,
he wended his weary and himgry way back to San Diego.
There he was horrified to learn that Father Serra and his
little colony barely had escaped massacre by the Indians ;
they had saved themselves less with their firearms than
with their wits.

Portola was thoroughly discouraged. He had been
tramping for the greater part of six months over a
dusty or muddy imbroken coimtry, whose magnificent
scenery was no compensation for the mule diet to which
he finally had been reduced. The bay coveted by the
King of Spain evidently had been obliterated by the
elements ; and, although he had found a superb bay farther
north, he scorned it, convinced that it was the harbor
discovered by Drake and the Spanish explorers, and held
by Spain as of little account. As the Drake harbor was
named San Francisco on the Spanish maps, he rechristened
the inland sheet after the patron saint of the expedition j

CALIFORNIA

to the unbounded delight of Father Serra, who looked
upon Portola's march north and discovery of the bay-
already named for St. Francis in the light of a miracle.

He was a handsome and gallant yoimg officer, this
Don Gaspar de Portola, first governor of California, but
there is no denying that he was stupid ; and when he dis-
covered later that he had camped for several days on the
beach before the Bay of Monterey, perhaps he thought so
himself. As none of the Spaniards ever appreciated the
Bay of San Francisco, he lived and died in blissful ignorance
of the greatest of his mistakes.

Only one of the ships remained in the Bay of San Diego,
the San Carlos. The San Antonio had been sent back to
San Bias in July, not only for provisions, but for sailors
and soldiers, many having died on the voyage out from
diseases caused by the abominable conditions. The San
Antonio had not returned; Portola doubted if it ever
would. The provisions on hand were running low. He
made up his mind to return to Mexico at once, and would
have done so had it not been for the prayers and deter-
mination of Father Serra. There is no doubt that if the
Spaniards had abandoned CaHfornia at that time the
government, upon receiving the discouraging reports of
such seasoned officers as Portola and Rivera y Moncada,
would have lost interest once more. Without the pic-
turesque if imperfect civilization of the late eighteenth and
early nineteenth centimes men of a more energetic and
adventiirous breed never would have heard of California.
Her "American" history woiild have been delayed for a
century or more ; and those enterprising citizens that have
wrested fortunes from her vitals, her fertile surfaces, or
their fellow-citizens, should render yearly thanks to that

THE MISSION PADRES

old priest of racked body and unquenchable enthusiasm,
and of a will too strong for Gaspar de Portola. Otherwise
they might be battling with the wilderness themselves
instead of reaping the harvest of the argonauts and pio-
neers of '49.

Portola unwillingly consented to wait till the 19th of
March. On that date if the San Antonio had not arrived
he should abandon California. She arrived on the 19th
(another miracle), and only because she needed an
anchor — she had been ordered to Monterey. Portola,
now convinced that God and the authorities were on the
side of the heathen, and that if he valued his career he had
better be also, immediately organized another expedition
to search for the Bay of Monterey. But this time he
went by sea, already half persuaded by Father Serra
(who took care to accompany him) that the bay above
which Viscaino had erected a cross — still remaining —
could not have disappeared. Even when the ship steered
straight for the cross, however, Portola saw nothing that
resembled a bay, but Serra recognized it at once and pro-
nounced it a beautiful port. Portola, who seems to have
been able to see anything that was ticketed and labeled,
agreed with him, and they took possession of Monterey
with impressive ceremonies.

This was on Jtme 3, 1770, a fateful day in the history of
California. San Diego, sandy, barren, intensely hot,
differing little from Baja California, would hardly have
unloosed the purse-strings of the "pious fund" of Mexico
had that second expedition north not been undertaken.
But now even Portola admitted that California was a
vast orchard of plums, all worthy of the active appetite
of Spain. He had eaten wild grapes and oranges himself

CALIFORNIA

in the lovely valleys he had traversed, he now remembered,
and seen pine forests of which seventy-times-seven cities
might be built. These same forests had towered on the
coast above them as the San Antonio crawled north;
and along the cliffs was a narrow belt of ancient cypress
trees, an advance-guard from the Holy Land to greet the
cross.

Seals crowded the outlying rocks, over which the pon-
derous waves of the Pacific dashed on their way to assault
the cliffs. They kept up an incessant and horrible racket,
but the scene above was very cool and green and inviting
to eyes weary of the glare of the desert.

On the ship had been packed not only the necessaries of
camp life, but altars, vestments, all the paraphernalia of
the Church, as well as the parade uniforms of the officers.
On the morning of June 3d priests and officers arrayed
themselves magnificently and assembled about an altar
under the great oak named for Viscaino. The priests rang
the silver bells they had hidden among the branches, sum-
moning all that might hear to prayer. The Indians, who
were hidden behind every rock, ignored the invitation, but
felt sufficient awe of the impressive ceremonies to remain
passive.

The little congregation was composed of Don Caspar de
Portola and his officers, several priests, many soldiers,
and the native muleteers, who had been Christianized in
Baja California. They all knelt while Father Serra, in
the white ceremonial robes of his order, blessed them and
consecrated the ground and sands of the shore, sprinkled
them with holy water, and planted an immense cross.
The chanting was incessant, and, as there were no musical
instruments, salvos of artillery and musketry were fired

THE MISSION PADRES

during the mass. With the Te Deum the religious cere-
monies finished and the military ceremonies began.

The royal standard was planted, and California (which
extended to the north pole, for all they knew) taken posses-
sion of in the name of Charles III., King of Spain. The
day finished with a great feast on the beach. The brave
little band was tired and hungry, but happy. Not only
had the Mission of San Carlos de Monterey been founded,
but a royal presidio.

When the barracks were built the high stockade in-
cluded not only the quarters of the governor and his
officers and barracks for the soldiers and peons, but a
parish chapel and rooms for the missionaries. Later a
Castillo (fort) was erected on an eminence above the har-
bor, and the presidio was rebuilt far from the shore and
about a large plaza.

The natives proved docile and willing to be baptized.
Father Serra soon made up his mind that Monterey was
no place for a mission, owing to the absence of broad acres
to" till and waters to irrigate. Serra, like all the priests
that came after him, was an excellent judge of soils;
moreover, he was far-sighted, and did not mean that his
missions should be encroached upon by future towns.
Prowling up and down the coast, he soon discovered, about
a league to the south, a beautiful and fertile valley on the
shores of a river, which he named Carmel. The waves
dashed over Point Pinos, and the mountains were black
with pines, but there were hundreds of acres of rolling land
which could be covered with grain and fruit, and there was
a lake of fresh water besides the river.

He ordered certain of his Indians, old and new, to fell
trees and erect a stout inclosure for a church, garrison,

CALIFORNIA

Kving-rooms, huts, and a corral. This he baptized with
the name Mission de San Carlos del Rio Carmel, but
then, as now, more briefly known as Carmel.

When this energetic little padre, propelling his tormented
body by the living flame within, was not designing, pro-
jecting, overseeing, exhorting, or baptizing he was writing
letters to the College of San Fernando in Mexico, dwelling
with holy zeal and real descriptive ability upon the beau-
ties of the new land, the richness of her soil, above all, of
course, the precious souls to be saved. He asked for a
hundred more missionaries, and he got thirty; not only
did he communicate his enthusiasm to the Guardian of
San Fernando, but to the more practical Viceroy of
Mexico and the Visitador - general. The news of the
solemn ceremonies on the shores of the Bay of Monterey
had already been received, and the Marques de Croix, the
viceroy, had published the news in the capital and ordered
the cathedral and all the little churches to ring their bells.

Two years before when Portola and his band were toil-
ing over the Santa Lucia range Father Crespi had been
deeply impressed by a valley seen from the summit and
afterward crossed by the weary party. It was a valley
of beautiful proportions, with waving fields of wild oats
and grains, and fruits as wild. When word came from the
College that the new missionaries with the necessary vest-
ments, bells, and funds would start as soon as might be,
Father Crespi recalled the beautiful fertile valley and in-
fected Father Serra with his enthusiasm. That warrior
soul mounted his mule, and, accompanied by two priests
and a body-guard, set out for the spot, some twenty-five
leagues south of Monterey. When he reached the wide
valley, watered by a river, dotted with groves of stately

THE MISSION PADRES

trees, the ripened oats looking like a waving sheet of gold,
he lost the head that never had been as strong as his
spirit, capered about in spite of his always swollen leg,
and, as soon as the bells were hung in the trees, pulled the
rope himself, shouting: "Come, oh ye Gentiles, come to
the Holy Church! Come to the faith of Jesus Christ!"

Inasmuch as there was not a Gentile (Indian) in sight,
and no church, and as his conduct was altogether imusual,
his companions thought he had gone mad. But who
knows what visions of the future flashed across his vision
on that brilliant July morning? Given a starved and
neglected body, a brain filled with the poisons of that
body, an inner altar upon which the flame never burned
low, surroimd these deviations from the normal by the
blue and gold of a California morning, a thousand choirs
of birds, the exquisite scents of the virgin earth, and
visions follow as a matter of course.

Thus was founded the Mission of San Antonio de Padua.

When I saw it more than a century later its ruins were

crowded with evicted Mexican squatters, the women very

fat, wearing a solitary calico garment, and the children,

although the San Antonio Valley is bitter-cold in winter,

quite naked. But it must have been a beautiful mission

up to the days of secularization, long and low, red-tiled

and painted white; the rancheria (Indian quarters) and

factories close by, set in a magnificent valley, one of whose

ranches,^ when I saw it, covered forty-five thousand acres.

^ My father-in-law, Faxon D. Atherton, saw this ranch when a youth
on his way to Chile in search of fortune. He vowed to himself that he
would one day own it, and did obtain possession sometime in the 70's,
after a lawsuit of several years; he had bought it as a Spanish grant,
and the many squatters in possession claimed that it was government
land. The Supreme Court decided in his favor, and the squatters (threaten-
ing my husband and the gh^riffs with death, but doing nothing), were evicted,

CALIFORNIA

During Father Serra's lifetime the neophytes numbered
1,084. Like all the missions, it was self-supporting ; seeds
and pits of fruits, cereals, grains, and vegetables, cattle
and sheep were sent from Mexico, and the priests soon
learned to ciiltivate the wild orange and grape.

San Gabriel was the next mission to be foimded. It
stands in another rich plain not far from the sea and
walled in behind by a rampart of high mountains, white
with snow when the oranges and olives are ripe in the
valley. Near by to-day is the California Chicagito, still
named for the little Spanish pueblo that once drowsed at
its base, Los Angeles, City of the Angels ! As few people
know the meaning of the name they mispronounce, the
incongruity is less painful than it might be.

San Luis Obispo, surrounded by bare chrome hills and
beautiful valleys, arose next. Then, after passionate rep-
resentations on the part of Father Serra as well as a trip
to Mexico, during which he nearly expired of fever and
exhaustion, funds and missionaries were sent, and the
following missions built in quick succession: San Juan
Capistrano, San Francisco de Assisi, Santa Clara, San
Bueneventura, Santa Barbara, La Purissima, Santa Cruz,
Soledad, San Jose, San Juan Bautista, San Miguel, San
Fernando, San Luis Rey, and Santa Inez. These missions,
with their barracks, factories, and rancherias for the
neophytes, were about thirty miles, or one day's ride,
apart. The spots chosen were as far as possible from the
mountains on either side of the long valleys, and a con-
stant lookout was maintained by sentries for hostile In-
dians. The churches were humble in the beginning, but
were gradually replaced by large buildings of adobe,
painted white, the roofs covered with bright-red tiles, and

SANTA BARBARA MISSION — FOUNDEU I 786

SAN GABRIEL MISSION (FIRST GOLD FOUND IN 1842)

THE MISSION PADRES

were, for the most part, of Moorish architectiire. There
was a long corridor before the living-rooms and facing the
plaza, or courtyard, and under its sheltering roof a friar
might tell his beads and meditate upon the hopeless
Indian ; few being as unremittingly enthusiastic as Father
Serra.

The chain of missions beginning at San Diego on the south
finished for many years at San Francisco, the bay being
then an insurmountable obstacle to further progress. A
road was gradually beaten out between the establishments,
and the chance traveler was always sure of a welcome, a
good bed, and a far better meal. Each was a hive of
industry, for the Indians worked if the padres stood over
them, and they had learned how to make cakes of choco-
late and other delicacies, to till the soil, to turn the grape
into wine and the wheat into fine bread. A sheep or a
beef was always killed in honor of the guest ; he was in-
vited to remain as long as he pleased, and sent on his way
with a fresh horse. No questions were asked, but he was
expected to attend mass. For the visitors soon ceased to
be merely priests. Many explorers cast anchor in the
bays — La Perouse, Vancouver, Puget, Duflot de Mofras
are the most celebrated — sailors deserted ships, and set-
tlers had been encouraged to emigrate from Mexico at
once. These came by every packet-boat — ^which, to be
sure, was not often! — and they were given small farms
near the presidios and furnished with two cows, two
sheep, two goats, a mule, farming-implements, and a yoke
of oxen. Those that settled at the pueblos (towns),
founded in due course at San Jose and Los Angeles, were
treated with even more paternalism, for the central gov-
ernment was anxious that these and other pueblos should

CALIFORNIA

grow and flourish. Houses were built for each inhabitant,
his farm and orchard staked off and his irrigation ditches
dug. In addition he was stocked as generously as the
farmer. Little can be said for these first settlers. Some
were convicts, and all were idle and dissipated. The fine
old Spanish-California families are descended, not from
them, but from the officers that protected the missions.
Many of these sent for their families and in course of time
— although bitterly opposed by the priests — obtained
large grants of land and became the great ranchers of
California's pastoral era; sometimes the younger officers,
hastening eagerly to the City of Mexico, when their term
of duty expired, returned by the next packet-boat, ac-
companied by their brides, and settled in a country which
even then seems to have exercised a curious fascination.
There was little to do, an abundance of game and every
other delicacy that cost nothing, sunshine for eight months
of the year, a climate electric in the north and soporific
in the south, and not too much discipline — save at the
missions.

Padre Serra, in spite of his increasing ills and feebleness,
spent much of his time visiting his long chain of missions.
He was granted the right to confirm by a special edict,
there being no bishop in the coimtry, and month after
month, year after year, he traveled over those terrible
roads, choked with dust in stimmer, knee-deep in mud in
winter, making sure that his idle, thieving, stupid, but
affectionate Indians would pass the portals of heaven.
A motorist skimming up and down El Camino Real to-day
would stare hard at the vision of a shnmken figure in a
brown habit, with a shining face above, plodding along on
a mule, his body-guard of soldiers a few respectful paces

THE MISSION PADRES

behind. There was not an inch of that long road between
San Diego and Dolores, nor any trail that led from it, that
was not as familiar to him as to the pleasiire-seekers of
to-day.

The missions, after an interval of warfare with the more
aggressive and unfriendly tribes, in which they lost both
priests and soldiers, settled down to a long period of
simple peace and prosperity. Immense fields of grain
were cultivated, vineyards were planted, and wine was
made; the women were taught weaving and spinning, all
fruits and vegetables seemed to flourish, and the horses
and cattle and sheep multiplied in the land. That long
chain of snow-white red-tiled missions, hedged with Cas-
tilian roses, surrounded by olive-orchards, whose leaves
were silver in the sim, orange-groves heavy with golden
fruit, the vast sweep of shimmering grain-fields broken by
stately oaks, winding rivers set close with the tall pale
cottonwoods, lakes with the long branches of willows
trailing over the surface ; bounded by forest and mountain
and sea, and not a city to break the harmony, must have
been the fairest sight in the modern world.

But there was another side to the picture. Father
Serra and the other devoted priests who were willing to
give their lives to the saving of heathen souls were terrific
disciplinarians. It was not only their mission to convert
and save at any price, but to use these instruments God
had given them to insure the wealth and perfection of
their establishments. Haussmann took no more pride in
rebuilding Paris nor Ludvig I. in modern Mimich than
these clever priests, exiled to the wilderness, but educated
in Madrid or the City of Mexico, in their beautiful adobe
missions, some severely plain, others sculptured, but all

3 31

CALIFORNIA

symmetrical and built by their brains with Indian hands.
It is to be confessed that the hands had a sorry time of it.
Father Serra had no cruelty in hirn, but many of the
other priests in their pious zeal developed more than was
good for either the soul or body of the neophyte. It was
after Serra's death, and while Lausen was president of
the missions, that La Perouse visited California. He wrot^
the story of his voyages, and as follows of Monterey:

The Indian population of San Carlos consisted of seven hundred and
forty persons of both sexes, including children. They lived in some
fifty miserable huts near the church, composed of stakes stuck in the
ground a few inches apart and bent over at the top so as to form oven-
shaped structures, some six feet in diameter and the same jn height,
and illy thatched with straw. In such habitations as these, closely
packed together at night, they preferred to live rather than in houses
such as the Spanish built, alleging that they loved the open air which
had free access to them, and that when the huts became uncomfortable
on account of fleas and other vermin they could easily bum them down
and in a few hours build new ones. The condition of the neophyte
was that of abject slavery. The moment an Indian allowed himself
to be baptized that moment he relinquished every particle of liberty
and subjected himself, body and soul, to a tyranny from which there
was no escape. The Church then claimed as its own himself, his labor,
his creed, and his obedience, and enforced its claims with the strong
hand of power. His going forth and his returning were prescribed;
his hours of toil and his prayers fixed; the time of his meals and his
sleep prearranged. If he ran away and attempted to regain his
native independence he was hunted down by the soldiers, brought
back, and lashed into submission. His spirit, if he ever had any,
was entirely broken, so much so that in a short while after the estab-
lishment of a mission anything like resistance was almost unknown,
and its three or four hundred or a thousand neophytes were driven to
their labors by three or four soldiers like so many cattle. . . . They
were roused with the sun and collected in the church for prayers and
mass. These lasted an hour. During this time three large boilers
were set on the fire for cooking a kind of porridge, called atole, consist-
ing of a mixture of barley, which had first been roasted and then
pounded or ground with great labor by the Indian women into a sort
of meal, with water. . . . Three-quarters of an hour were allowed for

THE MISSION PADRES

breaMast. Immediately after it was over all the neophytes, men and
women, were obliged to go to work, either tilling the ground, laboring
in the shops, gathering or preparing food, as might be ordered by the
missionaries, under whose eyes, or the eyes of other taskmasters
appointed by them, all the operations were performed. At noon the
church-bells announced the time for dinner. ... At about two o'clock
the Indians were obliged to return to their labors and continue until
about five, when they were again collected in the church for an hour
of evening prayers. They lived on porridge, but on rare occasions
meat was given them in small quantities. This was eaten raw.
When a cow was slaughtered the poor wretches who were not at work
would gather round like hungry ravens, devouring with their eyes
what they dare not touch with their hands, and keeping up a croaking
of desire as the parts for which they had the greatest avidity were
exposed in the process of dressing. ... In rainy weather they were kept
as hard at work indoors, and on Sundays, although they were allowed
an hour or two of games, they were driven for the most part into the
church to pray.

Other travelers Were horrified at the conversion, not so
much of the heathen to Catholicism as of a race inde-
pendent for centuries into unhappy machines; and there
is no doubt that many of the instances of reported cruelty
are true. But it must bo remembered that this was in a
day when more enlightened nations than Spain were buy-
ing and selling slaves, whipping them, and separating
them from their families. Even the white underdog had
not learned to raise his head, and schoolmasters and
parents all over the world used the rod unsparingly. The
Spanish priests had come to the wilderness not only to
save souls, but to do their share in welding California to
the crown of Spain. Moreover, no nation that brings its
children up in the bull-ring can be otherwise than cruel,
or callous at the best. These savages were the only
instruments an all-wise Providence had deposited in Cali-
fornia for the priests to use in the performance of their
task, and they used them. If the instruments had to be

CALIFORNIA

remade, even by the process of fire, why not, if it were to
the glory of God and the King of Spain?

There is no question of their pious zeal. And all for
naught. Never were devoted services in the Garden of the
Lord more futile. Brainless, little higher in the scale of
life than the wild beasts of their plains and forests, these
native Indians of California, so aptly renamed "Diggers"
at a later date by the American, did not rise one step in the
scale of civilization. Further enervated by diseases in-
troduced by the Spanish soldiers, and reduced almost
seventy-five per cent, by the ravages of smallpox, while
still under the sway of the missions, they relapsed into
savagery as soon as the priests were shorn of their power;
meaner objects than before, for they had lost their an-
cient independence. It may be argued against the padres
that the results of modern methods in California show
that a certain amount of intelligence and character in the
Indian can be developed by education and kindness.
Even so he is far below any white standard, and there is
no evidence of modern or any sort of civilization in his
villages. He merely has the benefit of what he can
assimilate from a more enlightened era, an era of which
the priests of Spain had no vision; nor would have
treated with aught but scorn and contempt had it been
interpreted to them by an oracle. God made the poor
to toil for the rich, the weak to be oppressed by the strong,
and, as both were put upon the earth to glorify Him,
why not?

Padre Serra loved them all, individually and collectively,
being not a priest,'but a saint. He saw nothing of their
ugly squat bodies and stupid faces, only the soul within,
which, of course, he never guessed was but a projection

THE MISSION PADRES

from his own radiant and supernormal ego. He died at
the Mission of Carmel, August 28, 1784, full of years and
honors and bodily sores, and was buried under the floor
of the church he loved best — the chiurch in the Mission
de San Carlos del Rio Carmel. It became in due course a
magnificent ruin, with an owl-haunted belfry, and the
weeds grew over his grave, and all the tombs were broken.
But it is now restored and quite hideous.

Father Fr. Junipero Serra may have failed to reap the
great harvest of Indian soiils he had baptized with such
gratitude and exultation, and that consoled him for all
his afflictions, but he lifted California from the imread
pages of geological history and placed it on the modern
map. I wonder what he thinks of it.

Ill

THE SPANISH GOVERNORS — I

Charles III. had not a suspicion of the gold that
lacquered the Sierra canons and spangled the beds of the
rivers, but it was the policy of Spain to add land and more
land to her American dominions, and so recover, if possible,
the power and prestige she had lost in Europe. There is
no doubt that this far-sighted ruler purposed to encroach
upon as much of the American continent as his soldiers
could hold and his missionaries civilize. This, it must be
remembered, was during the last third of the eighteenth
century; the English and French were on the far eastern
rim, curving north and south; Vancouver had not yet
visited the northwest, nor is it likely that an echo of the
rising storm of "American" discontent had reached the
Spanish king. What we now call Texas, New Mexico,
Arizona, Utah, Nevada already had been invaded by the
Spaniards from their central stronghold, Mexico; no
doubt, like the great Russian, Rezanov, after him, Charles
dreamed of a new American empire that should extend
as far as the Rocky Mountains, at least, and farther still,
mayhap.

Portola was succeeded as governor of the Calif omias by
Felipe de Barri in 1771 ; and if he possessed even as much
personality as Don Caspar it has not come down to us
through those early meager pages of California history.

THE SPANISH GOVERNORS — I

His short administration was distinguished chiefly by-
rows with the missionaries over the vexed question of
supremacy. Portola, ahhough a strict discipHnarian in
the army, had too much respect for the president to inter-
fere with the missions, but Barri aspired to be lord of all
this vast domain, with the priests as his humble subjects.
He was routed by Father Serra, although the friction con-
tinued. The chief weapon in the missionaries' moral
armory, and one they never failed to flourish, was the
avowed purpose of Spain to annex the Californias solely
for the glory of God and the redemption of heathen souls.
The military was sent along merely to protect the mis-
sions; and the civil administrations necessary to pueblos
were even more incidental.

It was during the administration of the third governor,
Filipe de Neve, although while he was still detained in
Baja California, that the presidio of San Francisco and
the neighboring mission were founded. During the
previous year, 1775, Bucareli, the enlightened Viceroy of
Mexico, had sent Juan de Ayala, Lieutenant of Frigate of
the Royal Navy, to survey the Bay of San Francisco.
This was done, not because even he realized its strategical
importance, but to gratify Father Serra, who had long
importuned him for means to establish a mission at a
point hallowed by the name of the patron saint of Cali-
fornia.

Ayala, the first white man, so far as is known, to sail
through the Golden Gate, arrived in the Gulf cf the
Farallones on August 5th, and sent a launch ahead to
navigate the straits. He followed on the same evening
in his packet-boat, the San Carlos, and navigated the bay
as thoroughly as one might in those days. He also named

CALIFORNIA

the islands — ^Alcatraz and Nuestra Senora de los Angeles
(Angel Island). In the following year, while men of
English birth at the other end of the continent were filling
the land with the clamor of liberty bells, the peninsula
of San Francisco wrote her own first chapter in modern
history. To the terrific cataclysms of the geological cen-
turies had succeeded the camp-fires and dances and
lazily gliding canoes of Indians ; nothing more momentous
enlivening the shores of the bay on any side than a war-
dance or a battle between rival tribes. But now there
were to be forts on her heights and a fine presidio not far
from the beach, officers strutting about in uniform,
parades, love-making at grated windows, and cock-
fights. It was not a change that threatened the peace of
the world, but it marked the end of the prehistoric era
and the embarcation of San Francisco upon her changeful
seas.

A league to the south the Mission of St. Francis d'Assisi
was founded, to be known almost at once from the lake
on which it stood, as the Mission Dolores. It had been
the intention of Captain Anza, who had charge of the
expedition, to found a pueblo close by, but the settlers
whom he brought with him had just sufficient intelligence
to see no prospect of farming sand-dunes. Governor
Neve, when he arrived, sent Lieutenant Moraga to con-
duct them down to the Mission of Santa Clara, and the
pueblo of San Jose was founded. The padres, however,
appropriated many hundreds of acres to the south of
Dolores, and this mission soon became almost as flourish-
ing as the others.

Governor Neve also founded the pueblo of Los Angeles,
and he composed a code of legislation (Reglamento) for

THE SPANISH GOVERNORS — I

both presidios and pueblos, so minute and so far-seeing
that it would serve them did they ever attain to the
growth of large cities. But he was too big a man for a
mere province, and was soon recalled to the City of Mexico
with high honors. The missionaries saw him go with no
regret. He disliked them intensely and did not hesitate
to tell them that their policy of repression and cruelty
was both imwarranted and short-sighted.

Pedro Pages succeeded him. He was one of the pio-
neers, and had accompanied Portola on that first futile
expedition in search of the Bay of Monterey. He was a
man of enterprise and industry and high in favor with the
Viceroy and the Visitador-general. He was also a favorite
of Father Serra, but he disliked the missionaries in general
and resented their power.

Pages had the ability to rule as well as the instinct, and
if he could not force the missionaries to their knees he
managed to make them feel the weight of his authority.
He got a law passed that no one should leave the Cali-
fomias without the consent of the governor. The priests
had been in the habit of nmning over to Mexico to
refresh their souls with civilization and the holy conversa-
tion of the College San Pemando. The new law emanated
from the City of Mexico, and, although the priests gnashed
their teeth and hated Pages, they were helpless. Cali-
fornia in those days was pastoral, but not too pastoral.

He also curbed the immorality of the soldiers, and
encouraged them to marry the neophyte girls, settle
down, and become the real pioneers of the country. He
seems to have been the first to punish horse-stealing and
to interfere with the excessive sale and consumption of
liquor. The eight years of his administration were spent

CALIFORNIA

either in reforms or in enforcing the original laws, and
he took an equal interest in the domestic affairs of the
colonists, settling their quarrels, prodding them to their
work, berating and encouraging them.

But he had his match at home, and his own domestic
affairs were the talk of California. His servants whis-
pered the secrets of the gubernatorial household to the
"wash-tub mail" — the women that washed in the stone
tubs sunken in the ground near a convenient spring or
creek — and they told other servants, who told their ladies,
who wrote to other ladies at other presidios. Society was
barely out of its shell in those days, and that first dish of
gossip must have been a godsend.

The Sefiora Pages has the honor to be the first woman
named in the history of California. If wives and daughters
accompanied the previous governors and their officers
they were too meek to win mention in the records, but the
helpmate of Pages was an individual if not an angel.
As it is not possible that she was with her husband during
that first expedition into unknown territory, this lady of
high degree, and consequence in the City of Mexico, must
have had the courage to take the long and hazardous
journey with a child and a retinue of ignorant peon ser-
vants, practically alone. But that same spirit made her
too mettlesome for the hearthstone. And brave and
hardy as she was, she abominated the rough presidio life
that awaited her at Monterey. No doubt she had read
Montalvo and dreamed her dreams.

To be sure, the missionaries and settlers were cultivating
the fields, and her table was loaded with delicate fish and
luscious fruits, venison, fowl, and bear-steak; there were
pine woods on the hills where she and the officers* ladies

THE SPANISH GOVERNORS— I

could roam and talk of the City of Mexico, and look at
whales, spouting iridescent geysers in the bay, a bay as
blue as the vice-reine's sapphires, and curving to silver
sands; she could thrill at the whoops of unbaptized In-
dians prowling round the stockade at night ; and on Sun-
day, after mass, she could attire herself in a flowered gown,
drape her handsome head in a mantilla, and, coquettishly
wielding a fan from Madrid, sit on the corridor surrounded
by gallant officers and watch a bull fight a bear in the
plaza; and there were festas aplenty at the missions. But,
although everybody seems to have worked himself to the
bone to please her, there was no peace in the governor's
mansion — which she called an adobe hovel. She wanted
the pleasures and excitements of the City of Mexico ; and,
as the governor could not import them and would not
return, neither he nor all his minions could smooth her
brow nor curb her tongue. The padres, called in by the
unhappy governor, talked to her of the consolations of
the Church, and were treated with high disdain.

Exhausting her resources in other directions, she pre-
tended to be jealous of her husband, that stern dispenser
of stocks and stripes to amorous soldiers. In her deter-
mination to amuse herself with a scandal she became a
scandal herself, for she hurled her wrongs into the public
ear, which expanded to twice its natural size.

Once more the distracted Pages appealed to the priests,
and this time they entered her sala with the authority of
the Church and threatened her with handcuffs and a
sound whipping. Her silvery laughter could be heard all
over the presidio. Well she knew that never would they
dare to put such an indignity upon the Senora Goberna-
dora, even though she belonged to that sex held in such

CALIFORNIA

casual regard by the men of her race. The padres gave
her up, and Capt. Nicolas Soler, first in military command,
was next called in. Soler was not only a disciplinarian of
the first water, but diplomatic and resourceful. He began
by upbraiding her furiously, telling her that she was a keg
of gimpowder full of sparks which sooner or later would
blow up California and lower the prestige of Spain in the
eyes of the world. This flattered her, and she applied her-
self to calming the indignant officer, who in turn wheedled
her. Perhaps her mood of revolt had worn itself out ; in
\ this more enlightened era it would seem that the poor
exiled lady was merely suffering from nerves and idleness.
She settled down finally into the leader of fashion, not
only for Monterey, but for those growing pueblos, San
Jose and Los Angeles, and for the other presidios. Her
maiden name was Eulalia Challis, and she deserves fame
as the first woman of California to assert her rights
and stand upon them, albeit her methods were a bit
old-fashioned. Peace was restored in the gubernatorial
mansion by the unconditional stu-render of the governor
himself. Every packet-boat until the end of the Pages
administration in 1790 brought her gowns and mantillas,
guitars and fans, music and candelabra from the City of
Mexico. But all breathed more freely when she left ; and
so, no doubt, did she.

Dofia Josefa Romeau, whose husband succeeded Pages,
had no chance to display what individuality she may
^ have possessed, for she was fully occupied niursing a man

' who was a prey to insomnia and finally to tuberculosis.

He died in 1792, and Don Jose de Arrillaga served as
Gobernador interino for two years. Diego de Borica
received the appointment of Gobernador propietario by a

THE SPANISH GOVERNORS— I

royal order from Madrid in June, 1793, but did not arrive
in Monterey until the following year.

It was not the fate that Diego de Borica would have
chosen, exile to the wilderness of the Califomias, a country
comparatively uninhabited, believed to be too poor to
progress far beyond its present condition and with no
society worthy the name.

Borica was the first man of solid intellectual attainments
to take up his residence in California. Mexico was
already old enough to have its scholars and seats of
learning, and with these Borica had been in close touch,
delighting in literature and controversial hours. This was
the more remarkable as he was an active soldier and made
close companions of his wife and daughter. It is doubt-
ful if there was even a book of old plays in California at
that time. The priests had their hands full educating
the Indians in religion, agriculture, and manufacturing.
The comandantes of the four presidios — Monterey, San
Diego, Santa Barbara, and San Francisco — ^found them-
selves as fully occupied with military duties, siestas, flirt-
ing, bull-fights, and cock-fights ; they would have thought
it a sin to waste time cultivating their minds. The
settlers of the pueblos were men that had been failures at
home, and degenerated instead of developing any pioneer
traits. California was a veritable exile for an intellectual
man. ^

But Borica, now a man of fifty, was also a soldier. He
did as he was told. For a few weeks after his arrival in
Monterey he had the consolation of the society of two
explorers and men of the world, George Vancouver and
Peter Puget, who were anchored in the harbor; but even
before they sailed away he had set himself to work to

CALIFORNIA

improve conditions in general with a zeal that never
flagged throughout the five years and eight months of his
administration. He determined to lay the comer-stone,
at least, of a future civilization.

One of his first measures after strengthening the forti-
fications along the coast was to reform the pueblos. He
scolded the alcaldes (the alcalde was an official who com-
bined several administrative offices in one and finally
wielded a power that led to great abuses) so vehemently
and threatened them with punishments so dire that there
was an immediate decrease in the amount of liquor sold
and consumed ; and the settlers, instead of spending their
time gambling and drinking and fighting, cultivated their
fields with an almost feverish ardor.

Knowing his sovereign's desire that many civil com-
munities should flourish in the province, he next tiuned his
attention to the founding of a "city" near the present site
of Santa Cruz. It was laid out by the one engineer in the
country, Alberto de Cordoba, a young man both able and
thorough. The city he made on paper had a church, fine
government buildings, houses of adobe for the colonists
instead of huts thatched with tules like those of San Jos6
and Los Angeles. Nor was it huddled about a plaza;
it covered four square leagues of land, with long streets
and ample building-lots and grants beyond for farms.
It was named the Villa de Branciforte in honor of the
Viceroy of New Spain.

The most favorable terms were offered to colonists, but
in spite of Borica's stipulation that they should include
not only able-bodied men and women, but agricultu-
rists, carpenters, blacksmiths, masons, tailors, shoemakers,
tanners, and fishermen, only seventeen poverty-stricken,

THE SPANISH GOVERNORS— I

diseased, half-naked emigrants arrived by the first ship,
and the subsequent relays were no better. Lieutenant
Moraga, however, made them work, and the first crops
were good. But the Villa Branciforte barely survived
Borica's administration nor traveled far beyond Cordoba's
table. The enthusiasm and enterprise of one man cannot
make a city, and the inhabitants of Branciforte were no
better and little more intelligent than the native Indians.
No doubt they were degenerated half-breeds, already de-
generated at birth. In spite of its beautiful situation on
the Bay of Santa Cruz it disappeared, while the little
pueblos of San Jose and Los Angeles climg to the map and
are cities to-day.

But Borica's chief and lasting work was the schools he
founded. Not only was there until his time no teaching
outside the missions for the white children, but the Indians
themselves received no more than enabled them to under-
stand the exhortations and orders of the padres. The
priests opposed him violently, but he established secular
schools and installed the best teachers he could find. He
also controlled to a large extent the cruelties practised by
the priests on the Indians, which, since Father Serra's death,
had become a scandal in the land. As long as he remained
in California the unfortunate natives were not hunted
down like dogs if they ran away nor lashed in the missions
until they bled. It was during Borica's administration
also that the military post, Yerba Buena, the site of the
future City of San Francisco, was founded.

If this enlightened man did not accomplish aU he strove
for he at least managed to fill his time during his long
exile, and it is doubtful if he contemplated failure for a
moment. And he accomplished a great deal. Not only

CALIFORNIA

did he compel parents to send their children to his schools,
but, despairing of decent immigrants, he ordered the
Spanish families — gente de razon — to have their boys
taught the mechanical occupations. To this there was
much opposition; the best families were all military in
origin, or fact, and the blue in their veins kept family
pride alive even in a colony. But Borica put his foot
down, and the boys went to work. The province flour-
ished as never before, for few dared to be idle. The
fields and orchards yielded enormous harvests, and there
were now hundreds of acres sown in hemp and flax.
Blankets and cloth for even the gente de razon were woven ;
and cattle and sheep, horses and mules, roamed through
every valley of the Coast Range; the great Central Valley
at this time was almost unknown.

If severe and inexorable, Borica was a just man. He
would not permit natives to be executed, no matter how
grave their offense, holding that their contact with
civilization was far too recent to have taught them the
laws of right and wrong and the sacredness of human life.
No doubt he reflected also that with the exception of
the missionaries and the few officers of high character,
the Indians had found little to admire and emulate in the
ruling class. When they were sent on errands to the
presidios and pueblos or ran away and hid in them, their
associates were the soldiers and immigrants, whose only
virtue was obedience.

In 1779 Borica felt himself worn out with his unremit-
ting labors and asked to be relieved. His release came in
January of the following year, and with his devoted fam-
ily he returned at once to Mexico ; but not to enjoy the
society of scholars and books. He died six months later.

THE SPANISH GOVERNORS — II

It was during the administration of Don Jose de Arri-
llaga, who succeeded Borica as Gohernador propietario, that
California set the stage for her first romantic drama. To
the principals it was real enough, but to us, looking down
that long perspective to a vanished day, so different from
our own, it would seem as if some great stage-manager had
found a sad and beautiful play and then great actors to
perform it.

Concha (christened Concepcion) Argiiello grew up in
the presidios of Santa Barbara and San Francisco, her
father being alternately comandante of these posts.
Don Jos6 Arguello was not only an able and energetic
officer ; he was so good that he was called el santo ; and,
although he had worked himself up from the ranks, he had
married a Castilian, Doiia Ignacia Moraga, and was the
most eminent of his Majesty's subjects in the Califomias.
Although the republican ideas flourishing in the eastern
part of the continent as well as in France horrified him,
and he was an uncompromising monarchist, he was more
liberal in other respects than most Spaniards of any rank,
and permitted his daughter Concha, a remarkably bright
girl, to take full advantage of the schools founded by
Borica. She was only ten when the governor resigned,
but she had heard much learned talk in his family; her
4 47

CALIFORNIA

mind had received a bent which impelled her to read all
the books in the coimtry that were not under the ban
of the priests.

Although much of her time was spent in the lonely-
presidio of San Francisco, she visited at other presidios
and at many ranch-houses. California was no longer a
wilderness in the year 1806, although far from the climax
of that arcadian life so famous in its history. The mis-
sions, but thirty miles apart, had been the first chain to
link that long coast together; the ranchers were the next;
and the yoimg people, with their incessant desire to
dance, picnic (merienda), and ride from one presidio and
ranch to the next and then again to the next, took from
the coast valleys at least all suggestion of a day, not
forty years before, when the Indians ruled the land.
Packet-boats brought mantillas and satins and embroid-
ered shawls from Mexico, silks for rebozos (a simpler sub-
stitute for the mantilla) fans, laces for the ruffles of the
men, fine linen, high combs, gold chains, and books for a
few.

The population of Alta California in 1806 was about
twenty-seven thousand, of which a little over two thousand
were whites. The gente de razon consisted not only of the
immediate military society and the official members of
the pueblos, but of the rapidly increasing descendants of
the first officers and a few soldiers and settlers, the most
enterprising of whom had managed to obtain ranchos in
spite of the opposition of the padres. The women of the
upper class when not bearing children (which they did
commendably) had Httle to do but oversee their numerous
Indian servants, dance, and enjoy the climate. Some of
the leading families had large adobe houses, white, with

THE SPANISH GOVERNORS — II

red tiles, many of them on long irregular streets leading
from the presidio; the Indians were now too broken in
spirit to be dangerous — save sporadically at long intervals
— or had fled to the mountains. They Hved in such state
as was possible with the accompaniment of whitewashed
walls and horsehair furniture; and these estimable wom-
en (about whom there seems never to have been a scan-
dal) and such of their lords as did not gamble away
their grants and patrimonies laid the foundation of one
of the few real aristocracies in the United States. Their
names will be given later when they enter California
history through the door of politics.

Concha, when her fate sailed through the Golden Gate
on that April morning, 1806, was only sixteen, but she
was a Spanish girl, with the early maturity of her race
and a mind and personality all her own. She was La
favorita of her day, and many men sang at her grating.

Even during Arrillaga's first administration he had
avowed much anxiety over the long strip of exposed coast
and the dilapidated condition of the presidios. He put
them in repair and caused a fort to be built near the
presidio and overlooking the Golden Gate. This spot is
still fortified, and we call it Fort Point. Borica followed
up this good work with his usual ardor, for Spain went to
war with France and believed herself to be threatened by
England. He also had heavy artillery sent over from
Mexico and installed at all the presidios and at Yerba
Buena. The war-cloud blew away, but the Californians
remained alert and were under orders from the central
government to do no trading with foreign vessels, nor
give them encouragement to remain in port.

Arrillaga, when made Gohernador propietario, was the

CALIFORNIA

eighth of the Spanish governors. He found about foiu*
hundred mfen in the military establishments of the two
Califomias, which cost the government nearly a hundred
thousand dollars a year. There were thirty-eight men
regularly on duty at San Francisco, sixty-five at Monterey,
sixty-one in Santa Barbara and San Diego respectively,
and seventy-one in Loreto, Baja California. Don Jos6
Arguello was chief of all the forces in Alta California, a
great man in his little way, and enjoying the full con-
fidence of the powers in Mexico, although for some rea-
son they never made him Gobernador propietario of the
Californias. Little he recked that he was to emerge
from the dry pages of history as the father of his Concha.

This brilliant Spanish girl not only had the fine dense
black hair and flashing black eyes of the handsomest of
her race, but the white skin so prized by the blooded of
Castile, and cheeks as pink as the Castilian roses that
grew about her grating. All chroniclers and travelers
unite in praises of her beauty and vivacity, and there is
no doubt that she was high above the common, this first
of California's many beauties, whose sad but exalted fate
has given her a place in history. It is related by the
descendants of Don Jos6 de la Guerra, of Santa Barbara,
in whose house she lived for several years, that in her
dark days she wished to cut off her eyelashes, which at-
tracted too much attention by their extraordinary length
and softness, but was ordered by a sensible priest to do
nothing so foolish as to deprive her eyes of the protection
the good God had given them.

At the time of Rezanov's arrival in California her father
was in command at Monterey, and his son, Don Luis
Arguello, at the San Francisco presidio. Luis was a man

THE SPANISH GOVERNORS— II

of no little independence and individuality himself, as
we shall see later. Concha, as well as her mother and the
younger children, appear to have remained as his guests.

Baron Nicolai Petrovich de Rezanov, first Russian
Ambassador to Japan, and circumnavigator of the globe,
a chamberlain at court and privy councilor, chief part-
ner in the great Golikov-Shelikov fur company of Rus-
sian America (Alaska), author of a charter that when
signed by the Tsar Paul made his company as formidable
as a modern trust, a man of great gifts and ambitions and
enterprise, who had tired early of court life and become
one of the most active business men of his time, had
spent the winter of 1805-06 in New Archangel (Sitka),
and learned at first hand the privations and sufferings
of his company diuing those long arctic months when
the storms were incessant and there was little or nothing
to eat.

But he heard also of a California rich in soil and climate,
and he made up his mind to visit its capital and establish
relations with the colony, which would enable him to
obtain a yearly supply of cereals and other nourishing
foodstuffs for his faithful subjects. He bought a barque,
the Juno, from a Yankee skipper, and its cargo of mer-
chandise; for he wanted immediate as well as future re-
lief, and knew that it would be useless to go to California
empty-handed. And then he set sail to play a part that
never crossed even his ardent imagination. He was
forty-two at this time. In his youth he had married a
daughter of the merchant Shelikov, but she had died
soon afterward. His mind was crowded with ambitions,
duties, and business; his thoughts turned seldom these
days to women.

CALIFORNIA

It was in the month of April, 1806, just one hundred
years and six days before the earthquake and fire of 1906,
which might have devoured a Russian city had this great
practical dreamer lived a few years longer, that Rez^nov
sailed through the Golden Gate and into that romance
which alone was to keep his name alive. He was a re-
markably handsome man, both in stature and the bold
outline of his rather cold and haughty face, towering
above the Califomians, and always wearing one or other
of the superb uniforms of his rank and time. It is no
wonder that there was a face at every grille on the day
of his arrival, and a Castilian rose above every little ear
at the ball that night.

He was received with anxious hospitality by Luis
Arguello. Rezanov was a menacing figure, but his cre-
dentials were in order. That night a ball was given to
him and to his officers and guests, and Rezanov devoted
himself to the beautiful sister of the comandante. It
was a long while since the Russian had seen female beauty
of any sort ; and, although he probably never had talked
to so young a girl before, Concha was not as other girls,
and attracted him as much by her dignity and vivacious
intelligence as by her exceptional beauty. That she
should lose her heart to this superb and distinguished
stranger, the first man of the great world she had ever
met, was inevitable.

Whether Rezanov would have permitted his heart to
act independently of his cool and calculating brain, had
he been able to accomplish his object and sail away in a
few days, no man can tell. But he met with unexpected
obstacles. It was against the law of the country to
trade with foreign vessels, and it was not until after the

THE SPANISH GOVERNORS— II

arrival of Governor Arrillaga (Rezanov was not permitted
to go to Monterey) and Don Jose Arguello and long pow-
wows with the subtle missionaries of Dolores (whose in-
terest Rezanov had enlisted with diplomatic presents
from his cargo) that they arrived at a compromise. There
must be no trading, but Rezanov could sell his cargo, and
with the California money immediately buy a hold-full
of foodstuffs. So would the loyal governor's conscience
(and possibly his official head) be saved.

Meanwhile six weeks passed. Rezanov saw Concha
daily. He permitted himself to fall in love, having made
up his ambitious mind that an alliance between Russian
America and New Spain would be of the greatest possible
advantage, not only to his starving company, but to the
empire itself. He would take up his residence in Cali-
fornia; little by little, and then more and more frequent-
ly, he would welcome colonists from his own frozen land.
These, propagating rapidly in the hospitable climate of
California, would soon outnumber the Spanish (he heard
of the type of colonists induced to emigrate from Mexico) ;
if necessary, sudden hordes would descend from the north
at the propitious moment and snatch the province from
New Spain, whose navy was contemptible and whose
capital was too many arid leagues away to offer success-
ful resistance by land. Nor was it California alone that
Rezanov desired for Russia, but the entire Pacific coast
north of San Diego and as far inland as he should find
it worth while to penetrate.

There was a terrific excitement at the presidio when
he asked Don Jos6 for the hand of his daughter. In
spite of his personal popularity all her family, save Luis
and Santiago, and even the priests, opposed the marriage;

CALIFORNIA.

being of the Greek Church, he was a heretic, and not for
him was a Catholic maiden, particularly the daughter
of el santo, loyal subject of king and Church.

But it was his personal quality, as well as his offer to
go himself to Rome for a dispensation and to Madrid for
the king's permission, that finally broke down their re-
sistance. They even went so far as to permit a formal
betrothal to take place; and late in May Rezanov re-
luctantly set sail to obtain not only the consent of the
pope and king, but of his own sovereign to the marriage,
which he now desired with heart as well as mind. Opposi-
tion, the fear that after all he might not win this girl, had
completed the conquest of that imperious mind and ar-
dent heart. And as bitterly as Concha did he resent the
two years that must elapse imtil his return. Even com-
munication might be impossible.

He sailed out of the Golden Gate filled with visions
not only of a real happiness, despite his sadness and
resentment, but of a magnificent gift to his country, a
vast territory over which he as viceroy should rule with
a power as absolute as the Tsar's in Russia. He saw the
hills of San Francisco white with the marble of palaces
and gay with bazars, flashing with the golden roofs and
crosses that had made the fame of Moscow — cupolas,
spires, lofty towers with bulbous domes ! And about this
wonderful bay, which he had had the wit to appre-
ciate at a glance, a line of bristling forts, villas between,
painted with the bright colors of Italy, and set in gar-
dens sweet with Castilian roses. He was a great and
practical dreamer, as the historians of his country testi-
fied after his untimely death ; but the Fates were on the
side of the Americans, as usual, and they had willed that

THE SPANISH GOVERNORS— II

in the history of Cahfornia his name was to shine not as
a conqueror, but as a lover.

His health had been broken in Japan, where he had
been a virtual prisoner on his ship for six months; and
there had been no chance to recuperate during that ter-
rible winter in New Archangel, where, like his employees,
he had often gone himgry. Perhaps if he had set out
upon his long overland journey immediately upon his
arrival at New Archangel, while the weather was com-
paratively mild, he might have survived. But there he
lingered to strike a blow at Japan, and it was October
before he began that journey of four months and many
thousands of all but impassable miles; with never a
comfort and with the most hideous privations; drenched
often to the skin; the infrequent boat alternating thou-
sands of miles on horseback.

After lying several times in wayside inns with fever,
he succumbed at Krasnoiarsk, in March, 1807, and all
the fine fabric of his dreams, and the earthly happiness
of Concha Argiiello, lie under that altar-shaped stone in
the cemetery of the little Siberian town.

Concha waited until definite news of his death came by
the slow way of schooners from the north, and then left
the world for ever and devoted her life to the care of the
sick and the teaching of the poor; although at one time
she had a school in Monterey for the daughters of the
aristocracy. There was no convent to enter for many
years, but she wore the gray habit of a "Beata.'* When
Bishop Alemany, of the Dominican order, came to Cali-
fornia he saw at once to the building of a convent in
Monterey, and Concha was not only its first nun, but
Mother Superior. Another convent was built some years

CALIFORNIA

later in Benicia, and she died there at the age of sixty.
Practically all of the women of California's gente de razon,
who have died of old age during the past twenty years,
were educated by her, and, after the convent moved to
Benicia, the daughters of several Americans.

Her life until she became a nun had some variety. She
accompanied her father to Baja California, in 1814, when
he was appointed Gobernador propietario of that territory,
now dissevered from Alta California, and she was in
Mexico when her mother died. After that she returned
to the north and was a guest at "Casa Grande," the
home of the De la Guerras in Santa Barbara, not ming-
ling with the family, but doing her part unostentatiously
among the poor until able to take orders.

Arrillaga was an active man of no particular ability,
and far more friendly toward the missionaries than tow-
ard the Indians, who in spite of the worm-like state to
which they had been reduced sometimes turned and bit
like scorpions. Occasionally they murdered a priest
more than commonly hated, and more than once they
plotted uprisings. But there was no uprising during
Arrillaga's times; and if severe, he authorized no execu-
tions of Indian delinquents.

He had none of Borica's antipathy to aguardiente and
gambling, although a temperate man himself, and the
pueblos of San Jose and Los Angeles, even while increasing
in size, became a scandal for dissipation and idleness once
more, while the pretentious Branciforte withered away.
But several notable events occurred during Arrillaga's
administration besides the romance of Rezanov and
Concha Arguello. That great adventurer's colossal
schemes died with him; but Baranhov, manager of his

THE SPANISH GOVERNORS — n

company and governor of Russian America, a man of
great ability, was fired by Rezanov's report of the fer-
tility of California and the immense number of otters
and seals the Russians had seen in the bay and along the
coast. When news of Rezanov's death came he sent a
copy of his report to St. Petersburg, and Russia at once
entered into negotiations with Spain for permission to
establish a colony on the northern coast of California
"for the sole purpose of hunting the fur-bearing animals
and curing their skins." These negotiations were brought
to a satisfactory conclusion in 1811, and early in the fol-
lowing year Baranhov sent M. de Koskov with a hun-
dred Russians and a hundred Kodiak Indians to Bodega,
where they established themselves and began their himt-
ing and curing. They brought with them sealskin
canoes called cayukas, or haidarkas, with which they ex-
plored the coasts and islands of both arms of the Bay
of San Francisco, and all its coves and creeks and sloughs
and marshes. The Califomians never did get used to
them, and, although there were no conflicts, there were
many imeasy reports from the successive governors to
the Viceroy of New Spain.

There were weeks when they killed seven or eight
hundred otters in the Bay of San Francisco alone. As
the skins were worth from eighty to a hundred dollars
apiece the profits were enormous. They also framed and
succeeded in forcing trade relations with the Califomians.
Before long they built Fort Ross on the cliffs of Sonoma,
a square inclosure with round bastions, ramparts, a
Greek chapel, magnificently furnished, and a substantial
log houses for the governor and his staiff. It is a beauti-
ful and lonely spot, and much romance is connected with

CALIFORNIA

it. The hills rise abruptly behind to a dense forest of
redwoods, and the gray Pacific rolls its big heavy waves
to the foot of the cliffs, a viscid-looking mass which seems
to drop with its own weight. In a little cemetery high
on one of the hills and just below the forest are buried
those that died during the Russian occupation ; they are
in copper coffins, it is said, for the Russians built
ships here, among other things. One of the dead was
a beautiful guest of the last governor, M. de Rotschev,
and his wife Princess Hel^ne. One day she discovered
that her lover, whom she believed to be in Siberia,
was in the "town," the collection of huts beyond the
fort and occupied by the laborers of the company.
That night she met him in a mill, also without the
inclosure, and they agreed to flee, and throw themselves
on the mercy of the comandante of the presidio of San
Francisco. The miller's son, whom she had never seen
but who had stared often at her, followed her into the
mill, overheard the conversation, and set the machinery
revolving. It caught the girl's hair, and she was
whirled upward and crushed to death. Her lover flung
himself over the cliffs. Other convicts ran away now
and again, carefully avoiding the Mission San Fran-
cisco Solano (Sonoma), where Vallejo reigned like a king
and was friendly with the Russians (this, of course, is
anticipating). When they were caught and brought back
they were beheaded at the foot of the cliffs or put on a
vessel, which stood out some distance, and then made to
walk the plank. There is a tradition at Fort Ross that on
windy nights you can hear the shrieks of the Russian girl
in the mill, and moans of convicts in the process of de-
capitation ; but, although I once spent three months in that

THE SPANISH GOVERNORS— II

romantic spot, I am free to say that I heard nothing.
The Russians remained imtil 1842, in spite of many-
alarms and protests, and then they went of their own
accord. The fur-bearing animals were exhausted.

Meanwhile the missionaries indulged in much contra-
band trade of otter and seal skins with Boston skippers,
and often under the very nose of Arrillaga, who was
violently opposed not only to trade of any sort with
foreigners, but to the mere visits of navigators or travelers.
He had all the narrow suspicion of his time and race, and
none of the brains and genuine ability that distinguished
such men as Neve and Borica, to say nothing of the
Arguellos. He was the more nervous as alarming reports
came from Mexico, which was preparing to throw off the
yoke of Spain.

It was during Arrillaga's administration that the first
severe earthquake of the historic period occurred in
California. The walls of the presidio of San Francisco,
which were of adobe many feet thick and reinforced with
the solid trunks of trees, were thrown down, and many of
the buildings. The mission over in the valley suffered
less, but great damage was done in the south.

Arrillaga died in 18 14, and Jose Argiiello was Gohernador
interino imtil Don Vicente de Sola, the last of the Spanish
governors, arrived in the following year. Mexico was
then in arms against Spain ; and, as the revolution was un-
popular in California, Sola, as the representative of the
crown, was received in Monterey with unusual ceremony
and rejoicing. Priests, acolytes, distinguished subjects,
and all officers that could obtain leave of absence
came from the other presidios to take part in the
ceremonies, The pillars of the "corridor" surrounding

CALIFORNIA

the plaza of the presidio were decorated with festoons of
evergreens from the woods on the hill and hung with many
lamps — Uttle pots containing suet and a wick. At dark
there was a social function in the presidio ; and the guests,
men and women, old and young, romped in the courtyard
or along the corridor, strummed the guitar, danced and
sang; it is not to be imagined that there was much con-
versation in those days. The capital held itself appre-
ciably above the other settlements until American occupa-
tion, and it had already become the fashion among the
women to wear only white at night, while the men wore
dove color, silver buckles, white silk stockings, and much
fine linen and lace.. Let the cruder communities flaunt
the cruder colors, but Monterey prided itself upon its
elegant simplicity.

The next morning high mass was celebrated in the
church of the presidio. The padres wore their sacerdotal
vestments, and there was a choir of forty Indians, all
dressed in gay colors and making music on viols, violins,
flutes, and drums. They accompanied the chants of the
priests in perfect tempo. The troops, both cavalry and
artillery, were drawn up in front of the church, which was
crowded with the gente de razon of the presidios and
ranchos; those that could not find entrance knelt in the
plaza and on the corridors. When the governor and his
staff left the gubernatorial mansion and, crossing the
plaza, marched into the church, the Te Deum Ladaumus
was assisted by salvos of musketry and cannon.

The cavalry were drawn up immediately before the
entrance. They wore their sleeveless bullet-proof cueras,
or jackets of buckskin, trousers of dark cloth, low-
crowned hats fastened with yellow straps under the chin,

THE SPANISH GOVERNORS— II

rough shields on their left arms made from bull-hides,
and lances in their right hands. They, too, knelt during
the gran funcion, but sprang to their mettlesome steeds
the moment it was over and stood at attention while the
governor, followed by a gorgeous procession of padres,
marched to the flagstaff in the center of the plaza and
saluted the royal colors of Spain. The loyal demonstra-
tion from men and women and muskets and cannon that
followed this simple act on the part of the governor could
be heard at the ruins of Branciforte on the opposite side
of the bay.

A magnificent banquet had been prepared by the ladies
of the presidio of which all guests were invited to par-
take. A troop of young girls, three of whose names have
come down to us — Magdalena Vallejo, Magdalena Estu-
dillo, and Josefina Estrada, big names in the future his-
tory of Old California — ^led the governor to it. It was a day
festa, and the young and slim wore skirts of fine muslin
covered with gilt spangles, and colored jackets, and slip-
pers with high wooden heels that clacked as they danced.
Their hair was gathered in a net at the base of the head
or held high with a tall comb, and all wore a string of
Baja California pearls.

The ceremonies, religious, military, and social, lasted
for days, both at mission and presidio, and then the
governor settled down to work. He was the tenth and
last Spanish governor of the Califomias, and his rule was
short. He came in 1815. In 1821 the revolution was
successful, and Iturbide Augustin I, ascended the throne
to reign briefly as emperor of the new and sovereign
empire of Mexico.

THE MEXICAN GOVERNORS — I

Luis Arguello is known informally as the first
Mexican governor of California, although he never was
made Gobernador propietario; possibly because he had
too much individuality and independence to suit either
the Church or the powers in Mexico.

The reign of Iturbide was brief. He was compelled to
abdicate in 1823, and, shortly afterward, the republic was
proclaimed. Meanwhile, Sola had been elected a deputy
to the Imperial Congress, and Luis Arguello became Gober-
nador interino. The Califomians liked neither the em-
pire nor the republic, but they were far from the seat of
trouble; they were an indolent race, and their resent-
ment soon expired in philosophy.

Luis Arguello was far more active and enterprising
than most of his countrymen; he belongs to that small
band of exceptions in the history of Old California that
deserved to have been planted on one of the higher ter-
races of civilization. He thought for himself; was never
dissipated until misfortune and bitterness overwhelmed
him, and was devoted to the military service.

The presidio of San Francisco, of which he was co-
mandante during the administration of Sola, was in one
of its most acute stages of disrepair. Monterey was more
than forty leagues away, and the governor much concerned

THE MEXICAN GOVERNORS— I

over prowling ships and pirates in the south. Luis made
up his mind to put his presidio in order without waiting for
the slow permission that might or might not come from
the capital. There happened to be an English carpenter
in the country, and he ordered him to construct a launch.
While it was building he sent soldiers by land to Corte
Madeira, a point only twelve miles up the bay, but near-
ly two hundred by land, with orders to cut down a num-
ber of redwood-trees. When the launch was built he
taught his peaceful soldiers how to sail it, and finally he
set out with them across that bay so beautiful to the
eye, but full of strong and treacherous currents, and sub-
ject to sudden squalls. The elements played him every
trick, the boat was nearly swamped, the soldiers refused
to do aught but pray. But Arguello kept his head, sailed
the boat to safety, and towed back his timber. This feat
he performed several times, until there were enough logs
to repair the presidio. But his energies were abruptly
checked by an infuriated governor. To this old dis-
ciplinarian, the most obedient of servants himself, it was
unthinkable that any soldier should presume to act with-
out the consent of his superior; while to build a launch
in these times of trouble and revolt stank of high treason.
He sent a guard to San Francisco to seize the launch and
bring it to Monterey, and ordered the young comandante
to the capital forthwith.

Luis was too good a disciplinarian himself not to obey
orders without question, and he set out for Monterey on
horseback, covering, with relays, fifteen miles an hour.
A dashing soldier, a reckless rider, a gay and handsome
caballero, haughty, amiable, independent, but always
eager to serve his country, and withal an honest gentle-

5 63

CALIFORNIA

man, Luis Argiiello is by far the most interesting man in
Old California history until Alvarado comes upon the
scene many years later.

Barely stopping to rest, and injuring his leg from the
stumbling of his horse, he arrived in Monterey, dusty,
weary, and in much pain, but indomitable as ever. It
was early morning ; but, knowing the old man's impatient
temper, he hurried to the gubernatorial mansion, dis-
carded his stick at the door, and, supporting himself on
his naked sword, entered the presence. The governor,
who was drinking his morning chocolate, scowled at the
tincourtly figure, and without asking him to sit down
growled out a demand for an explanation of his abomi-
nable breach of discipline.

"It is plain to all," said Luis, "that I and my officers
and our families are living in decaying hovels. Why
should I waste time supplicating the royal treasury? I
was quite capable of attending to the matter myself —
as I have proved — without adding to your excellency's
burdens."

The governor, who was always irascible in the morning,
gave a roar of rage at this offhand reply, and seized the
staff with which he so often administered chastisement,
not only to peons and soldiers, but to the officers and
quaking members of the gubernatorial family. But Luis,
instead of bowing to the storm, lifted his haughty crest and
put himself in an attitude of defense. It was then that
the governor caught sight of the naked sword.

"What — what does that mean?" His excellency could
hardly articiilate. He paused in his onslaught, pointing
to the sword.

"It means," replied Luis, coolly, "first, that I have in-

THE MEXICAN GOVERNORS— I

jured my leg, and when I am tired of standing in one posi-
tion I find it necessary to change to another; and sec-
ond, that, being a soldier and a man of honor, I do not
purpose that you or any other man shall beat me."

For the moment Sola was too stunned to reply. No one
had ever thought of resisting him before, and seldom a
day passed that he did not use his cane. He stared at
Arguello but a moment, however, before he flung his
stick across the room and advanced with outstretched
h^-ndg.

"This," said he, "is the bearing of a soldier and a man
of honor. I solicit your friendship. Blows are only for
the pusillanimous scamps that deserve them."

Luis was quick to respond. The two shook hands, and,
for aught we know, kissed each other on either cheek,
then sat down to chocolate. Sola, paying a visit to San
Francisco a few days later, admitted that Luis had been
justified in making his repairs in his own way, but he
liked the launch so well that he never returned it.

It was shortly after Rezanov's visit that Luis had been
able to marry Rafaella Sal, a red-haired, gray-eyed girl,
to whom he had been engaged for six interminable years.
So important a subject as the son of Jos6 Arguello could
not marry without royal consert, and that was long in
coming. It is hard to realize in these days of steam and
steel and speed that a hundred years ago California was
almost as remote from the centers of civilization ias had
she been on the satellite, and communication as slow.
But he married his Rafaella at last; only to lose her a,
year or two later. Time closed the wound, and jn 1822
he wished to marry Dona Maria Soledad Ortega, of the
Rancho del Refugia on the Santa Barbara channel.

CALIFORNIA

That was during Iturbide's brief reign, and the City of
Mexico was closer than Madrid. Sola, now his ardent
friend, bestirred himself, and the permission arrived
within a few months. There was a great wedding at the
Rancho del Refugio. It faced a roadstead, and Luis
came down by sea, as well as the guests from San Fran-
cisco and Monterey. Those from the ranchos came on
horseback, the caballero often holding his dona before
him; the older people in carretas, the wagon of the
country — low, springless, made from solid sections of
large trees, and drawn by bullocks.

For months before a hundred Indian girls had drawn
the fine threads of deshilados for undergarments and bed-
spreads, fashioned silks and satins into gowns, while
twelve of the girl friends of Doiia Maria embroidered the
flowers of the country on white, particularly the red-gold
poppy, which had been named not long since for the good
Dr. Eschscholz. This scientist had visited California in
1816 on the Rurik, when Otto von Kotzbue brought the
first confirmation of Rezanov's death. How the girls, their
needles flying, or sitting up half the night, serenaded and
sleepless, talked with bated breath of that romantic
tragedy and wondered what their own fates would be!
There were Carillos and Orenas, more Ortegas, De la
Guerras, Estudillos, Vallejos, Alvarados, Castros, Picos,
Estradas in that gay party, and those that could not be
entertained even six in a bed in the great adobe ranch-
house met them at the Santa Barbara Mission, where the
wedding was held ; then rode over for the days and nights
of festivity, when beds, so far as we can make out, were
mere encumbrances.

I^uis ha4 ?ent to the City of Mexico for the donas of the

THE MEXICAN GOVERNORS— I

bridegroom: mantillas black and white, silk stockings,
fans, lace flounces, Roman sashes, pearis from Baja
California, high combs bound with gold, a rosary of
amethyst beads, a necklace of topaz, and, the fine flower
of the wedding-gift which, if forgotten, would have cost
the bridegroom his bride, six camisas, fine as cobweb, em-
broidered, deshiladoed, trimmed with precious lace. The
bride's wedding-dress was made with a long pointed
bodice and full flowing skirt, and a mantilla half hid her
face and flowed almost to the hem of her gown. Luis
wore his bravest imiform. It was the first great wedding
that had taken place in California, and the priests of
Santa Barbara celebrated it with all the pomp and
ceremony of the Chtirch. The older people vowed that it
was worthy of a governor's wedding in the cathedral of
the City of Mexico, but the younger were impressed only
by the prospect of three days and nights of dancing.

When the festivities were over Luis and his bride set sail
for San Francisco in the packet-boat that awaited them in
the roadstead ; and they were as glad and happy as they
deserved to be, when at last they were in the quiet presi-
dio, sheltered by its fogs and serenaded by the seals and
the sea. Both are quieter to-day in the churchyard of
Dolores, but for a while life seems to have smiled upon
them. When they were tired of the gray peninsula they
could go down to their ranch in the San Mateo Valley, El
Pilar (sometimes known as Las Pulgas!), and bask in the
sun or wander in the most beautiful woods in Califor-
nia; and while Luis was Gohernador interino they lived in
Monterey.

Argiiello had none of that petty jealousy of foreigners
which closed the doors for so many years to legitimate

CALIFORNIA

trade with the outer world. WilHam E. P. Hartnell, an
EngHsh merchant from Lima, Peru, was the first foreigner
to become a permanent resident of CaHfomia and es-
tabHsh himself in business. This was in 1822, during
Arguello's administration, and he found no difBculty in
opening negotiations with the prefect of the missions for
the purchase of hides and other native products. He
married a daughter of Don Jose de la Guerra y Noriega in
1825 and became naturalized in 1830. It was during
ArgCiello's administration also that another Englishman
arrived who was to marry and settle in the country,
William A. Richardson (some accounts say that he was a
runaway sailor) ; and., shortly afterward, Capt. John Rogers
Cooper, from Boston, who asked and received permission
to trade, although the old law was still in force. But
Arguello thought for himself, after his habit, remarking
that "necessity was higher than law." Necessities, in-
deed, came more and more rarely from that hotbed,
Mexico, and luxuries not at all. The priests as well as the
ranchers were clamoring; and Hartnell and Cooper, who
had a hold-full of merchandise, obtained their own terms
as well as the hospitality of the country. This was the
formal inauguration of trade in California.

Luis also purchased Captain Cooper's schooner and sent
it under his command to China, laden with otter-skins.
Cooper disposed of them for a large sum which enabled
the governor to pay the arrears of his officers and soldiers
(also overlooked by Mexico) and to repay half of twenty
thousand dollars he had borrowed of the missionaries.
For all of these transactions he made himself personally
responsible.

But his liberal vieWs Were hot confined to business.

THE MEXICAN GOVERNORS— I

His foreign friends introduced the waltz, which promptly
went to both head and feet of the entire department.
The young folks danced every night at the presidios,
pueblos, and ranchos. They discarded the dances of the
country — el son, el jota, the contradanza — and whirled
up and down corridor and sala like madcaps, while
parents shuddered and priests thimdered. Both might
as fruitfully have ordered the sea to lie still. The waltz
became faster and more furious. Finally the Bishop of
Sonora was appealed to. He issued an edict threatening
all with excommimication who waltzed either in private
or public. The young people were thrown into a panic.
They dreaded excommunication with all their pious souls,
and with all their youth they resented being bereft of the
most delicious excitement they had ever known in that
isolated land.

Comandante Jos6 Maria Estudillo was giving a party
in the presidio of Monterey on the night the edict was
tacked to the door of the church. The governor and his
young wife were present. No one could talk of anything
but the edict ; if they coiild not waltz they cared not to
dance at all, these Calif omians that had danced out of
their cradles. Finally some wide-awake spirit conceived
the idea of asking the governor's advice.

Argiiello shrugged his shoulders. "I am not a bishop
nor an archbishop," he answered, "and have no juris-
diction over dancing. But if I knew how and felt like
it I should waltz as much as I pleased."

The group about the governor cried "Brava!" The
word flew round the room. In another moment the
musicians were fiddling, and every young couple in the
sala was whirling. The missionaries gave it up. Even

CALIFORNIA

in those remote and unenlightened days public opinion
and determined insubordination had their effect. They
made no report to the Bishop of Sonora.

During his brief administration Luis did what he
could to improve the lot of the mission Indians, who, as
he wrote in his report to Mexico, were "poor and dis-
eased, without medical attendance, and in a state of
slavery." As Borica so often had done, he wrote warmly
also on the subject of California's wasted fertilities, her
vast valleys, her splendid forests, her "capacities of all
kinds for becoming one of the richest and happiest coun-
tries in the world." But Mexico, although she finally sent
money and supplies for the troops, took no heed of Argu-
ello's prayer for commercial expansion and settlers.

Great Britain and the United States recognized the
independence of Mexico. Jose Maria de Echeandia was
appointed Gobernador propietario of the Califomias (once
more united), but did not arrive in San Diego until
October, 1825, and meanwhile the Mazatlan troops,
mainly composed of convicts and other bad characters,
with which California had been inflicted during Mexico's
period of unrest — to protect the coast — ^were withdrawn.
These men had so misbehaved, taking night or day
whatever they were sober enough to fancy, that Argiiello
had been driven to drastic measures. He had issued a
proclamation to the effect that, owing to the leniency of
his predecessors, crime had increased in the Department
of California to a frightful extent, and that the usual
punishments had no effect; he therefore ordered that
every person guilty of stealing property of the value of
two hundred reales or upward, or of burglary and house-
breaking, should suffer death. Minor offenses would be

THE MEXICAN GOVERNORS— I

punished with imprisonment and public flogging. Ar-
giiello was the kindest of men, but he was a strict dis-
ciplinarian and a keen student of his little worid. This
proclamation was conspicuously posted all over the de-
partment, and crime immediately lost its charms.

When Echeandia arrived Luis returned to the presidio
of San Francisco as comandante. He died there March
27, 1830, aged forty-six. He lies under the tall pointed
monument of the little church of the Mission Dolores,
whose thousands of fertile acres have shnmken to a
churchyard. After the earthquake of 1906 I went out
to see what had happened to the "mission" and the
monument of my friend Luis. Even the fire had spared
Dolores, but the upper part of the monument had snapped
off and the point flown into the wall. It was soon re-
placed, however, and the old cemetery, with its Spanish
names, its periwinkles smothering the graves and crosses,
and its Castilian roses, is once more a peaceful little oasis
of the past. It looks singularly out of place.

Echeandia gave a cheerful attention to his duties ; but,
although the description has come down to us of a tall
gaunt man constantly shivering with cold (for which
reason he preferred San Diego to Monterey), and although
he was the first to suggest that the missions be converted
into pueblos and the Indians given ranchos of their
own, and although he put down an Indian uprising with
a firm hand, we see him as a man of little personaHty and
no popularity.

Although secularization did not come in his time, his
administration witnessed the curbing of clerical power;
immense grants of land were made to distinguished sub-
jects; Don Jose de la Guerra, of Santa Barbara, received

, 71

CALIFORNIA

grants from time to time until his acres numbered three
hundred thousand. This really marked the downfall of
the priests, who heretofore had claimed all the fertile
valleys near the missions as their own, granting small
ranchos to their favorites, and even these under protest.
During this administration, also, foreigners received their
first formal permission to marry and settle in the country
provided they complied with the laws of the department.
Other men of various nationalities, recognizing the pos-
sibilities of the country, were not long following Hartnell's
example. California women seem to have married for-
eign men, and Americans in particular, whenever the op-
portunity was offered them; frugal, sensible, and virtu-
ous, they no doubt recognized the inferiority of their own
men as soon as they had a new standard of comparison.

With Echeandia had come from Mexico a young en-
sign of engineers, brave, handsome, and intelligent. His
name was Romualdo Pacheco ; and, although his life was
brief, he was destined to found a family whose name lin-
gered longest in the new California after the Americans
had obliterated Arcadia. His son of the same name
was prominent in the politics of the state, representing it
in Congress, and successful in business ; owing, no doubt,
to the lady selected by his gallant young father.

Almost immediately upon his arrival in San Diego
Pacheco met Dona Ramona Carillo, a woman of character
and energy, although at that time little more than a
handsome and clever girl, famous for a brilliant smile
and uncommon vivacity. After her young husband's
death she married a Scotchman, Capt. John Wilson, who
brought up the little Romualdo without indulgence and
gave his mind a practical instruction enjoyed by few

THE MEXICAN GOVERNORS— I

Califomians. For some years after the American occu-
pation, however, he continued to practise the reckless
hospitality of his race. A visitor brought a letter to the
Wilsons and was invited to their great rancho, Caiiada
de los Osos, near San Luis Obispo. Romualdo took him
to his room and, as he was about to leave the guest alone,
wheeled and kicked aside a pile of saddle-bags in the
comer, revealing a large sack. The neck was open ; the
sack was filled with "slugs" of gold, valued at about
twenty dollars each. "Help yourself," said young
Pacheco. "The house is yours. Bum it if you will."
He had almost forgotten the sack was there.

But to return to 1825. Pacheco's comrade, Augustin
Zamorano, became enamoured at the same time of Luisa,
daughter of Santiago Arguello. Both the weddings took
place simultaneously at San Diego, with all the gaiety and
pomp of the time, and the two bridal trains, consisting of
hundreds of relatives and friends of the brides, attired in
their most brilliant plumage, mounted on splendid horses,
accompanied the governor to Monterey. The long jour-
ney was enlivened with meriendas and dances and barbe-
cues and feats of horsemanship, and every other festive
antic which enabled the light-hearted Californians to
forget that they were a stranded people on the edge of
the world.

Don Jose de la Guerra had been commandante of Santa
Barbara for many years, but he went, about this time, as a
delegate to the Mexican congress, and Pacheco was ap-
pointed to fill the vacant post. He and his bride lived in
the old military square of Santa Barbara (of which the
adobe house built by Don Jose in 1826 is the only building
of note remaining) until 1831. The superb valley is shut

CALIFORNIA

in by a big and barren range of mountains which throw
into bold relief the long white mission with its double
towers and red tiles on the rising groimd at its feet.
There was also a white aqueduct in those days built by
the padres, and the whole scene was full of color: the
sky and sea, as always, of a deep hot blue, the green
expanse between the mission and the presidio (also white,
with red tiles on the low roofs) strewn with boulders, and
here and there a tree; in the vicinity of the mission and
presidio there were olive-groves shining Uke polished sil-
ver, and fruit of every color ripening imder that golden
relentless sun.

Echeandia was governor from 1825 imtil 1831. His
successor, Manuel Victoria, remained in office ten months
and nine days. No high official was ever more cordially
hated or more quickly disposed of. Half Indian, cruel,
ignorant, prejudiced, he was, altogether, a type of gov-
ernor California never had been inflicted with during the
authority of Spain. He gratified his hatred of aristocracy
by exiling eminent citizens without reason, refused to call
the territorial deputation which assisted the chief official
in governing, and he gratified his lust of blood by enacting
to the letter Luis Arguello's drastic law against criminals.
In short, he threw the department into a ferment which
quickly developed into a revolution. He was finally
cornered with thirty soldiers under Pacheco, who believed
it his duty to stand by his chief. Pacheco was shot
through the heart. The soldiers, deprived of their cap-
tain, ran away. Victoria fled to the Mission of San
Gabriel and delivered over the government to Echeandia,
who had lingered in San Diego.

But Pio Pico, one of the most influential Californians

THE MEXICAN GOVERNORS— I

of his day and the most eminent citizen of Los Angeles,
high in poHtics and rich in acres, claimed the governorship
ad interim, and Captain Zamorano started a coimter revo-
lution. In fact, from that time on the history of Cali-
fornia imtil American occupation is concerned mainly with
internal revolutions. As long as the kind but firm hand
of Spain directed the destinies of its province it remained
monarchical and submissive ; but whether it was that the
Califomian had no respect for the governments set up
in Mexico, or whether the spirit of revolution had entered
his own blood, certain it was that pastoral lethargy was
frequently enlivened by a restless desire to put almost
any one in authority but the official who claimed the
right. California also suddenly awakened to the fact
that she had been oppressed by the missionaries, and
began to demand secularization. This not only would be
an act of poetic justice, but would divide tens of thousands
of acres of the best lands for grazing and farming, between
loyal subjects who would become rich and prosperous,
and treat the miserable Indian with kindness.

Pio Pico, having wrested Alta California from the
filming Echeandia, expressed, as Gobernador interino, the
public sentiment regarding the missionaries in a report to
the City of Mexico:

Such governors as have hitherto been sent to this country have
been absolutely subject to the influence of the Spanish missionaries.
These missionaries, unfortunately, owing to prepossessions in their
favor and general fanaticism, acquired and enjoy a certain amount of
acceptance among the larger portion of the population. This they
have managed greatly to augment by means of the wealth of their
territory, which they have administered to the prejudice of the
wretched neophytes, who have been compelled to labor incessantly
and without deriving any advantages whatever either to themselves
or their children for their labor. Up to date, consequently, these un-^

CALIFORNIA

fortunates have remained in the same unhappy circumstances as at
the beginning of the conquest, with the exception of a very few who
have acquired some knowledge of their natural rights. But in gen-
eral they have languished in oppression. They have been ground down
with stripes inflicted with the purpose of suppressing in their minds
the inborn tendency to seek reUef from tyranny, in the liberty which
manifests itself in republican ideas. During the entire history of the
country the missionaries have never lost an opportunity of seducing
the hearts of the governors and eradicating from their bosoms every
sentiment of philanthropy in favor of the Indians.

The missionaries had obeyed that ancient instinct of the
human heart to oppress the weak. Spain had invested
them with great power, and it had gone to their heads.
They had read history and seen something of the world:
the strong ever waxed arrogant and ruthless, and the
weak were born to submit. Now, alas, it was their turn !

From the moment the ball was set rolling toward secu-
larization it never halted until the padres were first de-
spoiled and then in many cases driven out. And never
had the missions been so flourishing as when the ecclesi-
astics realized th^-t their day was over. At the begin-
ning of 1834 they reigned over thirty thousand neophytes,
who tilled their fields (some of which yielded two crops a
year), herded their flocks and cattle, and increased the
vqlue of those vast properties year by year. They owned,
when the shadow of secularization rose, more than four
hundred and twenty thousand cattle, sixty thousand
horses, three hundred and twenty thousand sheep, goats,
and hogs, and they realized annually thousands of bushels
of maize, wheat, beans, and the like. In 1834 they
slaughtered over a hundred thousand cattle for the sake of
the hides, in such demand by the traders; and these, with
the tallow, brought them for that year an income of over
a million dollars. Every mission had its great orchard,

THE MEXICAN GOVERNORS— I

vineyard, and beautiful gardens, although those of
Dolores as well as San Francisco Solano (Sonoma) and
San Rafael (two missions north of the bay which had been
established in 1823 as barriers against the Russians) were
less prolific than those farther south. Many were set in
orange-groves, and few that were not shaded with the
immense fig-trees that flourished in all the warmer valleys
of California. It was not unlike the ' ' terrestrial paradise ' '
of Montalvo.

As soon as it became certain that secularization was
inevitable the missionaries began a systematic work of
destruction. Some sold what property they could dis-
pose of favorably, and others uprooted their vineyards and
ordered the slaughter of thousands of cattle, not only for
the sake of the hides, but to leave as little to their despoilers
as possible. At the Mission San Gabriel all were slaugh-
tered. This mission was then the richest in the Depart-
ment of California. It possessed over a hundred thou-
sand cattle. They were struck down wherever they
happened to be, the hides taken off, and the carcasses —
strewn all over the beautiful valley and hillsides — left
to rot. For years this region was white with skulls and
skeletons; the new rancheros foimd them useful in the
building of fences !

THE MEXICAN GOVERNORS — II

An avowed object of secularization was to convert the
missions into Indian pueblos surrounded by farms; in
other words, to give the Indians the lands to which they
were entitled by natural law. But it did not work. In
the first place, the Indians had neither the intelligence nor
the energy to cultivate even a small estate and make a
living out of it; and in the second, they were still the
weaker race. Numbers never have coimted and never
will count against superior brains and ruthless energies.
The activities, mental and physical, of the Califomians
may have amused the Americans when they devoured
them later, but they were infinitely superior to those of
a race spawned by Nature while she was still an amateur
in the game of life.

The conversion into pueblos proceeded slowly; these
were ruled by white officials, and the Indian was toler-
ated according to the value of his services. San Juan
Capistrano was the only exception; possibly as an ex-
periment, or as a salve to the departmental conscience,
the beautiful sculptured ruins of the mission — wrecked
by the earthquake of 1812 and only partly rebuilt — was
made into an Indian pueblo according to the original
edict. Its career may be imagined.

Governor Figueroa, who arrived in California in time

THE MEXICAN GOVERNORS— II

to save it from another civil war, was half Aztec, and
consequently in sympathy with the Indian; but his ad-
ministration, owing to ill health, was brief. The impulse
he gave to Yerba Buena will be described elsewhere.
Barely had secularization been accomplished when he
retired, and once more there was trouble.

He handed over the reins to Jose Castro, the first
member of the territorial deputation, and a yotmg officer
of brilliant gifts, who was destined to play a part in
California history. Castro, however, held the position
of Gobernador interino for four months only. The cen-
tral government ordered him to tvun it over to Nicolas
Gutierrez, who enjoyed the office for about the same
length of time. In December, 1835, the Mexican govern-
ment sent Col. Mariano Chico as Gobernador propietario,
and the outsider proved himself to be as petty, tyrannical,
and futile, as unjust and quarrelsome as Victoria had
been. After three agitated months he was glad to es-
cape fron the country with his life. The Califomians
had foimd themselves.

Gutierrez again assumed command, and a month later
he also was taking passage for Mazatlan. A new sort
of revolution had been accomplished imder Juan Bautista
Alvarado, the ablest man Old California produced. Cali-
fornia pronounced itself a free and sovereign state.
Alvarado was appointed governor, and he in turn ap-
pointed his imcle, Mariano Guadalupe Vallejo, that lord
of the northern valleys whose home was in the mission
pueblo, Sonoma, comandante of all the forces. The
congressional deputation which heretofore had been
called at the pleasure of the Mexican governor was turned
into a constitutional congress, to meet at regular in-

6 79

CALIFORNIA

tervals; and, although the Roman Catholic religion was
the only one recognized by the state, no man was to be
molested on account of his religious opinions. This
beneficent law was passed, no doubt, on behalf of the
considerable number of foreigners now settled in the
country, and who had become merchants or ranchers of
importance.

Mexico, busy with irritations nearer home, ignored
California ; and the new state, barring the usual jealous
explosion from Los Angeles (stronghold of the Picos,
Carrillos, and Bandinis) went her way in peace and pros-
perity for several months.

The revolution had not been instigated by Alvarado,
but, as the man whose abilities were now most con-
spicuous, he was pushed immediately to the front, forced
to undertake its leadership, and upon its rapid and suc-
cessftil conclusion, as natiirally made governor. But
knowing that California was too weak to stand alone, he
deftly wheeled it back to its old position under the Mexican
flag, after having given the central government to under-
stand that hereafter the department would choose its
own governors and administer its own affairs. Mean-
while, he devoted himself assiduously to the reform of
abuses and to bringing order out of the chaos caused by
the rapid succession of governors. He rose with the dawn
and worked far into the night with his secretary. His
dream was to make California a model state ; and if Cali-
fornia had been wholly composed of Alvarados, Castros,
Arguellos, De la Guerras, and -Pachecos, and that pest-
hole, Los Angeles, had not existed, no doubt he would
have succeeded.

But, although he had suppressed Los Angeles, which,

DON lOSE DE LA Gl'ERRA

DON PABLO DE LA GUERRA

GEN. DON JOSE CASTRO

THE MEXICAN GOVERNORS — II

since it emerged from pueblo swaddling-clothes, had
longed to be the capital of California, it was for the
moment only. He was suddenly dumfoimded with the
news that Carlos Antonio Carrillo had been appointed by
the Mexican government to supplant him. Although he
was the choice of all California, saving only Los Angeles,
and the department now longed for peace and order,
Jose Antonio Carrillo, late delegate to Mexico, had ob-
tained the governmental ear, defamed Alvarado, exalted
his brother, and claimed to speak for California.

Once more the north flew to arms. Alvarado, being
above all things a patriot, high-minded and imselfish,
would have yielded; but not so his compatriots. Not
only were they determined that the wisest among them
should rule, but no longer would they submit to the
dictation of Mexico. Vallejo remained neutral until the
issue should be plain. The army marched toward Los
Angeles under Jose Castro. The south also flew to arms.
Its general was Juan de Castaiiada.

Those internal "wars" were more to let off steam than
anything else. Hot-headed as the Califomians were,
they were mortally afraid of hurting their opponents,
possibly because they were all so closely knit by the
marriage-tie. Generally it was the army that made the
greatest display of force and noise that won, and so it
was in this case. Jose Castro surprised Castafiada at
San Buenaventura and surrounded his army, demanding
an unconditional surrender. When this was haughtily
refused, Castro's men fired somewhere, certainly not into
the enemy's ranks, whereupon the southern army ran
away and Castro captured the leaders, including Jose
Antonio Carrillo. When the northern general marched

CALIFORNIA

proudly into Monterey with his quarry, Alvarado sent
the prisoners to Sonoma. Vallejo had a reputation for
extreme cruelty against the Indians, whom he had been
sent out at various times to subdue. This may or may
not be true, for General Vallejo had many enemies, like
other rich men; but Alvarado is reported to have said,
when he despatched the prisoners of war north to the
stronghold at Sonoma, that if he sent these men to the
devil they would not get their deserts, but they would if
he sent them to Vallejo.

Vallejo was a man of many conflicting qualities; able,
intellectual, the only man in the department besides
Alvarado who in his youth had defied the priests and
read extensively; reputed brave and cruel, but never
backing Alvarado in his revolutions until convinced that
success was assured ; an admirable man of business until
the gold-rush brought thousands of abler men to the
country; haughty, arrogant, proud of his untainted
Spanish blood, but withal a very fine gentleman and
gallant soldier; if not one of the few great men of Old
California, he was one of its pre-eminent figures. His
treatment of the southern prisoners was all that Alvarado
could wish, and that firm but amiable governor soon par-
doned them and told them to go home and behave them-
selves.

Meanwhile, he sent an ambassador to the City of
Mexico, Andres Castillero, the discoverer of the New
Almaden quicksilver-mines near San Jose. This able
man soon convinced the President of the Republic that
it would be wiser to permit the ever-loyal Califomians
to choose their own governors. Simultaneously, Alta and
Baja California, which had been separated once more,

THE MEXICAN GOVERNORS— II

were reunited ; and Alvarado became, without further op-
position, Gohernador propietario of the Department of the
CaHfornias. Vallejo was comandante militar. Alvarado
issued a proclamation ordering an electoral college to meet
at Monterey in May, 1839, and returned to the work of
governing wisely and peacefully and to the satisfaction of
all concerned but Los Angeles. But, although his admin-
istration was comparatively serene, it was notable for many
events of far more importance than bloodless revolutions.

When Alvarado became governor there were one hun-
dred and forty-seven foreigners resident in Alta Cali-
fornia, either naturalized or licensed, besides a number of
vagabond hunters and trappers north of the Bay of San
Francisco. The most distinguished of the new-comers
were William E. P. Hartnell, merchant, trader, school-
teacher, rancher, Visitador-general of Missions in 1839,
linguist, translator, and interpreter; Thomas O. Larkin,
United States Consul and resident of Monterey; Alfred
Robinson, merchant, whose marriage to Dona Anita de la
Guerra is so brilliantly described by Richard Henry Dana
in Two Years Before the Mast; James Alexander Forbes,
a Scotchman; Don Timeteo Murphy; David Spence;
Capt, John Wilson, who married Dona Ramona Pacheco;
Abel Sterns; Jacob P. Leese, a German- American, mar-
ried to a sister of General Vallejo ; and William A. Richard-
son, the first American resident of Yerba Buena.

During Alvarado's term of office there was a great
influx of foreigners, the most notable of the Americans
being W. D. M. Howard, who became a few years later
one of the great merchants of San Francisco ; and the most
notable of all, John Augustus Sutter, bom in the Grand
Duchy of Baden (1803), a seeker of fortune in the United

CALIFORNIA

States and the "Sandwich Islands" (H. I.) until 1839,
when he made up his mind to try his luck in California.
He arrived in the Bay of San Francisco in June, 1839, with
a company of colonists, twelve men and two women. As
he had no license, the authorities would not permit him to
land; he therefore proceeded down the coast to Monterey
and informed Alvarado that he wished to settle in Cali-
fornia and found a colony.

Alvarado was fully alive to the dangers of too many
foreigners in his isolated and ill-defended province, es-
pecially when they were of a low type. But he recog-
nized in Sutter a man of uncommon ability and serious
purpose, who intended to become a citizen of California
and improve the conditions of that portion of the country
where he should settle. Long conversations between the
two men convinced Alvarado that Sutter was not only
willing but able to keep the prowling vagabonds and
restless Indians of the north in order; he gave him the
license to enter and to settle on a fork of the Sacramento
and American rivers, naturalization papers in the follow-
ing year, a large grant of land, and appointed him a
representative of the government on the "Sacramento
River Frontier." This part of the country was infested
with men of the lowest type, outlaws in their own coun-
try, that had wandered over the Sierras from the United
States and Mexico, and by the more savage tribes of
Indians ; as there was now a considerable number of
ranchers, both Californian and foreign, north of the Bay
of San Francisco, it was necessary that these despera-
does should be turned back or reduced to submission
by a strong hand in the north. Vallejo, it would seem,
had not proved equal to this task.

THE MEXICAN GOVERNORS— II

Sutter, who during the first year had built a fort and
a house and outbuildings, all surrounded by a stockade,
in that wild valley facing the Sierra, was authorized to
arrest and punish thieves, robbers, and vagrants, and
warn off hunters and trappers that were unlicensed;
in short, while bearing in mind that the jurisdiction of the
comandante at Sonoma extended even to the splendid
domain, which Sutter called New Helvetia, and where he
ruled like a feudal lord, he was to be the government's
strong arm in the central north.

Sutter felt no hesitation in using the powers invested
in him. As may be imagined, there was no love lost
between him and Vallejo, who, although he may have
lacked the personality and executive ability of Sutter,
bedeviled him when he could, and let him understand at
once that the troops of Sonoma would never be at his
disposal to enforce the law. But Sutter was quite able
to manage without his neighbor's assistance. He soon
had a colony of three hundred Indians, whom he taught
not only agriculture but the mechanical trades, and who
became much attached to him. He established a primary
school, built the natives comfortable huts, and altogether
seems to have treated them with paternal kindness as
long as they obeyed him blindly. When he was called
upon by the ranchers to put down bands of horse-thieves
he furnished his Indians with muskets, and they accom-
plished their purpose quite as effectively as the lazy
Sonoma garrison would have done. In 1841 the Rus-
sians, having exhausted the fur-bearing animals, were
ready to abandon Fort Ross and Bodega ; and, although
Vallejo claimed all their farms and other properties in the
"sacred name of Mexico," Sutter quietly bought them

CALIFORNIA

out for thirty thousand dollars. Of course, he had no
such sum in gold, but the property was turned over to
him and the debt assumed by the government.

But, although Sutter was quite equal to the more dis-
reputable of the adventurers, and, indeed, insured a cer-
tain degree of confidence among the residents of the north,
the increasing stream of American immigrants, whose
white prairie-wagons he could see from the roof of his
fort through a spy-glass crawl down the long slopes of
the Sierra, was quite another problem. These invaders
were farmers and their families, some in search of pro-
ductive soil, others merely itinerant and restless. The
Americans in Texas had "imfurled the banner of re-
bellion" and won. The same danger might threaten
California at any moment. Alvarado wrote to Mexico for
a larger army; but, although the government was aware
that the American newspapers were coveting California,
it was unable to spare troops. The immigrants, who, in
the course of a year or two, numbered several hundred,
were advised of this and laughed at the proclamations of
the governor and at Castro's display of military force.
There was nothing to be done as long as the invaders
obeyed the laws of the country. California was not
strong enough to put them out, and persecution would
have invited the wrath of the United States.

Alvarado fain would have kept California for Mexico,
torn by civil wars, distracted by her losses, threatened
on every side. He was too wise and clear-sighted not
to have foreseen Mexico's ultimate fate, but he battled
on, enforcing obedience to the laws of his department,
and keeping the foreigners, save the few that enjoyed his
confidence, out of politics. If his abilities had been recog-

THE MEXICAN GOVERNORS— II

nized and he had been called to the City of Mexico, that
turbulent nation might have told a different story for
one generation at least.

Alvarado was a man of great dignity, coolness, re-
source, energy, and a bom leader and administrator. Of
fine commanding appearance, taller than the majority of
his race, with black hair and eyes, regular features and the
white skin of his Castilian ancestry, simple in his dress
and reserved in manner, although courteous, he had been
a notable figure in the province from boyhood, when he
defied the priests and fed his ambitious mind on all the
books he could find in the coimtry or procure from Mexico.
Beginning his public life at eighteen, he filled one office
after another, indifferent to the dissipations of the young
officers and rancheros, and winning more and more of the
public confidence, until the time came to lead California
both in war and peace. His ideal and model was Wash-
ington, and there is no question that if born to a wider
sphere he would have achieved something more than a
local fame. His most remarkable characteristic, consid-
ering his blood, was his self-restraint. His proclamations
and state papers show nothing of the rhetorical bombast
of his time and race ; they are, indeed, models of style. He
showed his independence at the age of fifteen by cutting
off his flowing curls, and for many years was the only
young Californian who did not wear his hair long and tied
back with a ribbon. He was born in Monterey in 1809,
and was therefore only twenty-seven when he became
governor of the Californias. But even his enemies ad-
mitted that it would be impossible for a man of any age
to make fewer mistakes than he did during the six years
of his administration. In 1839 he married Dona Martina

CALIFORNIA

Castro, of San Pablo. His mother was a Vallejo, which
may have been the secret of his long patience with the
unreliable general.

The other California families now active and prominent
in the department were the De la Guerras, Carrillos,
Penas, Estradas, Osios, Gonzalez, Requenas, Jimenos
(Xim^nos), Del Valles, Martinez, Peraltas, Bandinis,
Avilas, Picos, the Santiago Arguellos, and the Castros.

The greater number of these had immense ranchos, and
did a yearly trading with the Boston skippers, exchanging
hides and tallow for a hundred and one articles of mer-
chandise— ^from fine silks and high-heeled slippers to car-
penters' tools and pots and pans.

Don Jose Castro had a ranch at San Juan Bautista, but
spent the greater part of his time in Monterey; his wife,
Dofia Modeste, a beautiful woman with black hair, white
skin, and the green eyes so prized by the Spaniards, was
California's leader of fashion until 1846. General Castro,
who seems to have led all the California armies of his
time into war, while Vallejo sneered in Sonoma and en-
joyed the imposing title of comandante militar, was a gal-
lant officer and a stem disciplinarian. He won his battles
by superior tactics ; and if a little given to grandiloquence
in his proclamations, he was none the less quick, alert,
and wary. Old California women who are now dead
described him to me as a rather tall, dark, dignified man,
very straight, with keen, flashing eyes, aquiline features,
and beard worn d la basca, a narrow strip running from
ear to upper lip. Vallejo wore his face hair in the same
fashion for many years, but he had a large benevolent
forehead and a fat chin. His expression was aloof and
somewhat cynical, and his manner, while suave and

THE MEXICAN GOVERNORS— 11

courteous, did not inspire unbounded confidence. Sutter
also had an immense forehead, caused by receding hair,
a long fine nose, a mustache so heavy that his mouth
is quite as well concealed in his pictures as a curtained
window at night, and heavy eyebrows, under which twin-
kled large, deep-set, shrewd, but kindly eyes. He wore the
sort of whiskers we now associate with stage butlers, and
the underlip tuft with Napoleon III. In figure he was
upright and authoritative, and his manners were as culti-
vated as his mind. He was an adventurer, no doubt, but
an adventurer of the highest type. He did not come to
California penniless, by any means; and if he induced
Alvarado to give him a great domain he made good use
of it, educated and drilled the Indians to better purpose
than the missionaries had ever done, was a genuine and
useful pioneer; and if he treated Alvarado with in-
gratitude, as we shall presently see, and made grave mis-
takes of judgment — ^for he fell short of being first-rate —
he was on the whole loyal to the country he had adopted,
not only under Mexican but American rule. The Ameri-
cans, of course, gobbled him up, and the city of Sacra-
mento now stands on the site of New Helvetia, although
it has had the grace to preserve the fort.

Pio Pico, who is remembered chiefly because he was
always agitating the question of moving the capital down
to Los Angeles, and was the last Mexican governor of
California, was short and very stout, with a snapping eye
and a fat empurpled nose. He had brains and an ex-
tremely active mind, and lived to a great age ; witnessing
not only the passing of his own people, but of several
generations of Americans. In his day Los Angeles was
a beautiful little pueblo with a church of the mission

CALIFORNIA

period and a sleepy plaza. It was surrounded by ranchos
that jdelded abundantly wheat and fruits and hides, for
it was on the edge of the rich San Gabriel Mission.

Don Jose de la Guerra y Noriega built his large adobe
house (Casa Grande), which covers three sides of a court,
in 1826, and moved into it from the presidio, where he
so often had been comandante until politics claimed
him. It was from this house that the great wedding
took place described by Dana. Of his vast estate twenty-
five thousand acres remain — the Rancho San Julian — the
property of one of his granddaughters and her children.
Casa Grande is in an almost perfect state of preservation,
and occupied by two other daughters of his son, Don
Pablo de la Guerra, who for several years after the Ameri-
can occupation played an important part in politics.

It was during Alvarado's administration that the
establishment of Dolores, legally converted into the
Pueblo San Francisco, was made the capital of the north-
em subdistrict, and the peninsula entered upon yet
another phase of its history ; although the site of modem
San Francisco was still called Yerba Buena. The priests,
shorn of their great estates, either returned to Mexico
or clung to their mission churches and the crumbling
rooms alongside; the gente de razon still attended mass.
It was seldom that an Indian entered the doors of Dolores
or any other mission, after secularization. They con-
tinued to live in their rancherias, unless they wandered
off to the mountains or more interior valleys; but they
relapsed into a deeper degradation, assisted by aguardiente,
than had characterized them before they enjoyed the
edif3ring example of the white man.

Alvarado's administration also was notable for the

THE MEXICAN GOVERNORS— II

first discovery of gold in California. In 1842 a ranchero
named Francisco Lopez, living on Piru Creek about thirty-
five miles west of Los Angeles, took his noonday siesta
under a tree one day, and, as he awoke, absently played
with a clump of wild onions. The roots were dislodged,
and as the sleepy ranchero regarded his trophy his eyes
opened wider and wider until he sat up quite straight.
The roots were glittering with bright yellow particles,
which, he made no doubt, were gold. He was not the
man to keep a secret. There was a rudimentary gold-
rush ; and, although the news did not leave the state, about
eight thousand dollars were panned out between the
Santa Clara River and Moimt San Bernardino. But its
story was forgotten after 1848.

In 1842, Alvarado's health failing, he asked to be re-
lieved; and Manuel Micheltorena was sent from Mexico
as Gohernador propietario. Of course there was another
war. This time, however, it was not only that several
ambitious men wanted the position, but the entire de-
partment had just cause for complaint. Micheltorena
arrived with an "army" three hundred and fifty strong
(Mexico having decided that it was time to reinforce
California), composed of the scoiuings of the prisons.
Without a jacket or a pantaloon between them, and clad
in tattered blankets, with manners and morals on a par with
their appearance, this present from the Mexican stepmother
was regarded by the proud Californians as a bitter insult.

To add fuel to the flame, Micheltorena halted at Los
Angeles and announced that he should make it the capi-
tal of California during his administration. His reason
was not inadequate. The United States, in the person of
Commodore Thomas Ap Catesby Jones, had made a pre-

CALIFORNIA

mature seizure of Califomia, and occupied Monterey at
that moment ; being under the impression that Mexico and
the United States were at war, and having, as he thought,
raced a British squadron from Peru. Finding that the
information upon which he had acted was in both cases
false, or, at least, premature, he apologized on the day-
following his landing and elevation of the American flag
on the custom-house (October 19th), and withdrew from
Mexican waters. But Califomia did not forgive a gov-
ernor, particularly when commanding an "army" of his
own, for not advancing at once upon the intruder. Michel-
torena seems to have possessed a genius for doing the
wrong thing. His next offense was an attempt to restore
the mission lands to the Church, which, of course, would
have meant the dislodgment of the now wealthy rancheros.
He did restore twelve mission churches to the mission-
aries, and ordered the Indians to return to their old
allegiance. But this was a mere farce and pleased no
one. Then he turned his attention to reducing the
salaries of high officials who had done little more than
draw them, and the department reverberated. He at-
tempted to accomplish something in the cause of educa-
tion, but with little success, and he took certain active
if futile measures to prepare California for the inevitable
war with the United States. But he could win no favor
from the Calif ornians. His own offenses were supple-
mented by the abominations of the imported troops,
who clothed themselves as they listed and fed from any
larder that pleased them. No woman dared venture
abroad, and if Los Angeles temporarily realized her am-
bition she payed dearly for the privilege, for she lost her
popularity as a resort even in the south,

THE MEXICAN GOVERNORS— II

Micheltorena arrived in 1842. The Calif omians stood
him until November, 1844. Alvarado, although adminis-
trator of the custom-house at Monterey, spent the greater
part of his time on his rancho, for he seems never to have
recovered his health. However, he was called upon to
head a revolution, and responded promptly. Vallejo
being reluctant, as usual, the northern army marched
south under the command of General Castro and of
Alvarado himself. To their amazement, Sutter marched
his forces to the support of Micheltorena ; and, although
he was bitterly repentant later on and tried to explain
his conduct with the excuse that he had believed his
allegiance to be due to his governor, he never regained
his old prestige with the Californians.

Alvarado and Castro made short work of Micheltorena,
his troops, and his allies. They ran him out in Feb-
ruary, 1845.

Pio Pico succeeded him, becoming governor of the
Calif ornias in May, 1845. But during his administra-
tion events occurred too big with significance and results
to be included in the accoimt of any Mexican governor's
administration. They marked the beginning of Cali-
fornia's American era, and must be treated separately.
Not even Alvarado's hand could have stayed them; and
Pico, almost forgetting his morbid loyalty to Los Angeles,
could only stalk about Monterey and fume, flee to Mexico,
return and proclaim himself governor in a brave little
attempt to defy the hated gringo, and finally subside.
The superstitious may like to hear that he was not only
the last Mexican governor of California, but the thirteenth.

VII

FREMONT AND THE BEAR-FLAG REVOLUTION

In 1835 the United States offered to buy California
from Mexico. The offer was rejected; Mexico knew
that she had practically lost Texas, and had no desire
to curtail her American possessions further.

The American colony in Texas was very large. In
1835, wearying of the tyrannies of Mexico, they declared
their independence, and for nearly a year waged a san-
guinary war with the Mexican troops sent to exterminate
them. On April 2 1 , 1 83 6, the Texas-American forces imder
Sam Houston completely routed the enemy and took Santa
Anna prisoner. The United States, in spite of its desire
to expand westward, adroitly refused to annex Texas
until its independence had been recognized by Mexico,
having no excuse as yet to violate that elastic myth known
as the faith of nations. Texas was told to go ahead and
prove its power to stand alone and establish a govern-
ment which the world would be compelled to recognize.
Texas did the best she could ; but, being constantly har-
assed by Mexico, she once more asked the boon of an-
nexation in 1845. She had at least maintained her in-
dependence for eight years, and this time the United
States was prepared to respond. No one could now ac-
cuse her of grabbing the greater part of another republic
at the first excuse, but she had been impatiently awaiting

THE BEAR-FLAG REVOLUTION

the right moment to become embroiled with Mexico and
acquire CaHfomia.

The United States cared little about Texas one way or
another, and she might be working out her own destiny
still had she not been useful as a cat's-paw. It was Cali-
fornia that the government had its eye on, and under-
ground wires had been humming for several years. The
gold discovery of 1842 had attracted little attention, nor
was the cupidity of the United States particularly excited
by the letters of the American settlers — which frequently
found their way into the newspapers — although the glow-
ing accounts of soil and climate were responsible for many
an emigrant train. It was the Bay of San Francisco that
the government wanted and was determined to possess.
At first, no doubt, the powers in Washington hoped that
the American emigrants would solve the problem as they
had done in Texas, and every means, subtle and open,
was employed to encourage the farmers of states where
nature had done little for soil and less for climate to take the
long trip across plains and mountains to a land abundantly
provided with milk and honey. Thousands rose to the
bait, poured over the Sierras, and pitched their tents in
the great Central Valley, to the dismay of Alvarado and
Castro and the secret exultation of Vallejo and Sutter;
who, if not so loyal, were the first to appreciate the advan-
tage California would reap if delivered over to the enter-
prising American. That it would mean their own ruin
never occurred to them. They believed that France had
machinated, and that England hovered ready to pounce,
and for reasons best known to themselves they preferred
the neighbor next door. An Irish priest named McNamara
dreamed of bringing two thousand Irish families to Cali-

7 95

CALIFORNIA

fornia, driving out the Spaniards and the Americans, and
restoring the mission lands to the Church; although he
talked of colonization only. Pio Pico favored this scheme,
if only to spite the Americans. All knew that war be-
tween Mexico and the United States was inevitable.

Colonization is slow work. The policy of the United
States has never been a bold aggressive one in regard to
conquest. No country has ever been more certain of
what she wants or more certain of getting it; but she
refuses to grab, partly owing to an innate sense of jus-
tice, partly to a youthful taste for being patted on the
back, and an equal distaste for criticism. In the begin-
ning, no doubt, hers was the policy of a weak nation too
wise to offend the great across the sea, but inherited
Anglo-Saxon pharisaism may have had something to do
with it. To-day it is a settled poHcy; and, although the
United States has offered to buy and has bought, no one
can deny that she can acquire more territory at less ex-
penditure of blood and money than any nation in history.
No one has ever been bom as shrewd as a Yankee, nor
as persistent, nor as fathomless, under his straightfor-
ward simple guile. If the United States ever falls into
decay, after the fashion of certain European states, it
will be because she has permitted the scourings of those
states to swamp and exterminate the original Yankee.

And so it was in the early forties. Thomas O. Larkin,
it is now known, drew, in addition to his pay as United
States Consul to California, the sum of six dollars per
diem for what in these crisp days would be termed "keep-
ing on the job all the time." It was his duty to win
the confidence of the leading Californians and inspire
them with belief in the friendship of the United States

THE BEAR-FLAG REVOLUTION

for this insulted and neglected department of Mexico;
to animate them with a love of freedom, particularly
under the protection of the United States flag; but if
the idea of a change of flags alarmed them — ^for the
Spaniards, too, have an adage combining the frying-pan
and the fire — then he was to intrigue merely to separate
them from Mexico and persuade them to cast themselves
upon the protection and sympathy of a sister republic.
Moreover, he was never to let them forget the wicked
intentions of England and France, which had shown their
hands so plainly by impertinent explorers, and squadrons
at no great distance from Pacific shores.

The minds of the Califomians being duly prepared, the
United States, which also had a squadron in the Pacific,
would, upon the outbreak of hostilities with Mexico, run
up the flag in Monterey and San Francisco as a natural
act of war, without opposition from the local authorities —
it was hoped with their joyous consent. Larkin did his
duty faithfully. He nursed along the leaders of thought
and politics in the country he sincerely loved, planted
American ideas in those bright but often empty brains,
and even succeeded in quieting the apprehensions of all
but a few regarding the long trains of emigrant wagons
rolling like a thin cascade over the western flanks of the
Sierras. All was going well, and the war-cloud was slow-
ly rising on the horizon and taking such shape and form
as would compel the United States to do the proper
thing, when a yoimg man upset Larkin's apple-cart as
Jameson upset Cecil Rhodes 's. His name was John
Charles Fremont.

So completely forgotten is this remarkable man that
it is difficult to realize that in the forties and fifties he

CALIFORNIA

was the idol of the American boy, and was very close to
being carried by a popular wave straight into the White
House. "The Pathfinder" at the age of twenty-three
had accompanied the French geographer Nicolett in his
capacity of lieutenant of topographical engineers, to ^-
plore the northwestern prairies; and three years later
was in sole command of an expedition to explore the
South Pass of the Rocky Mountains, which opens the
way to the Colimibia River valley. Emigration was being
encouraged not to California alone. The ostensible pur-
pose of this and the two following expeditions was to
mark out a suitable overland trail for emigrants and
select the proper sites for forts; but Fremont seems to
have received instructions from Benton, at least, never
for a moment to lose sight of the principal object in spread-
ing a net over the continent, which was to get the Eng-
lish out of Oregon and prevent them from getting into
California. The immediate result of these expeditions
was an enormous public interest in the West and desire
for its ownership. Fremont's reports, published by the
government and widely distributed, became the most
popular literature of the day. Here were genuine hard-
ships heroically endured, encounters with Indians in
which real blood was spilled, harrowing adventures of
every sort in which man's personal bravery and wit
triumphed over Nature — and all told in a vivid and fas-
cinating style. There can be little doubt that Fremont
was selected for these expeditions as much for the manner
in which he was able to portray the advantage of a region
coveted by the United States, as for his talents as a path-
finder and his scientific attainments.
Everything was in Fremont's favor, not only to make

THE BEAR-FLAG REVOLUTION

him a popular hero and current "best-seller," but to give
him immortal fame. Bom of a good family in Savannah,
Georgia (January 21, 18 13), at the time he first appeared
upon the scene he was young, dashing, fearless, the bom
explorer and adventurer, and in appearance slender, ad-
mirably proportioned, and woiild have been handsome
had he not cultivated a bushy beard and had not Nature
presented him with a somewhat hard and staring eye.
But youth and fame cover all defects, and for many years
he was the most gallant and picturesque of America's
heroes.

Upon his return to Washington after his expedition
with Nicolett he made a friend of Senator Benton of
Missouri, who had a bright and handsome daughter.
With her he fell in love in his usual headlong fashion,
and seems to have had little or no difficulty in rousing a
like ardor in Miss Benton. The romantic young couple
saw fit to elope, but were quickly forgiven, and then
Benton and Fremont laid their heads together.

The government sent Fremont on the second expedi-
tion (1843), during which he reconnoitered Oregon and
California. There was much uneasiness in Washington
over England in Oregon. As a matter of fact, that astute
nation when she lost California relinquished Oregon as
not worth fighting about; but there was no doubt in
the government's mind that she coveted the whole Pacific
coast in the northern hemisphere. The time had come
to strike, and the war-cloud was permitted to rise.

Polk became President of the United States in March,
1845, ^^d he made no secret of his determination to ac-
quire California. He would have purchased it, but this
was recognized as impossible before Fremont started

California

upon his third expedition. Fremont claims that he had
a secret understanding with the government to walk
warily but to act at his own discretion. The Pacific
squadron received orders to seize the ports of California
as soon as war was declared ; and, although no such defi-
nite instructions could be given to a young engineer in
charge of a topographical expedition, there seems no
reason to doubt that Fremont, encoiu*aged by his father-
in-law, with whom it was a ruling passion to acquire
Oregon and California, and assisted also by his not in-
considerable faith in himself and his exalted destiny,
believed in this silent commission from the government.
He was not a model of discretion, but he was, all things
considered, a necessary tool at the moment; and there is
little doubt that the government fully intended to use
him, and then applaud or repudiate him later, as cir-
cumstances might dictate.

In December, 1845, Fremont had crossed the Sierras
and was for the second time a visitor at Sutter's Fort.
Thence he rode down to Monterey to enlist the influence
of the consul, Mr. Larkin, with the authorities, as he wished
to bring his men to one of the settlements and replenish
their ragged outfits, as well as to buy new saddles for the
horses and lay in the necessary supplies for his "geo-
graphical expedition." Pico was away, but Larkin took
him to call on General Castro, the prefect, the alcalde,
and Alvarado. He informed these dignitaries that he
was engaged in surveying the nearest route from the
United States to the Pacific ocean, the object of the sur-
vey being geographical and in the interests of science
and commerce. He made his usual good impression,
and, the necessary permission being given, he sent for

100

THE BEAR-FLAG REVOLUTION

both sections of his divided party and met them at a
vacant rancho about thirteen miles south of San Jos6.
Here he remained imtil the 2 2d of February, purchasing
horses and suppHes and refitting his men.

Meanwhile Castro and Alvarado had been laying their
heads together. They knew that Fremont was a son-
in-law of the powerful Senator Benton, so deep in the
confidence of the United States government; and he had
a retinue of sixty men, a large number to the Califor-
nians, whose army rarely exceeded three or four hundred.
Fremont had asserted that these men were, with the ex-
ception of the himters and trappers, strictly scientific,
and unarmed; but Castro had his doubts. Fremont also
had had the imprudence to remark casually that ten
thousand American colonists were prepared to emigrate
to California and Oregon in the spring. What more like-
ly than that this subtle gringo had come to consolidate
the Americans already in the country and provoke an
uprising ? Better be rid of him at once.

It was no difficult matter to involve one of Fremont's
men in a row with a Califomian over a woma», and then
protest that the California women were not safe when
gringos were about. Castro wrote Fremont — who was
now in the Salinas Valley — a peremptory order to leave
the country immediately.

But Fremont had no intention of doing anything of the
sort. It was too soon to give battle, for as yet there
was no news of the outbreak of hostilities between Mexico
and the United States ; but he returned word by the mes-
senger that he would not comply with an order that was
an insult to his government. The next morning he moved
his camp to the summit of Gavilan Peak ; and his men,

191

CALIFORNIA

who were jubilant at the idea of a possible fight, built a
log fort and unfurled the American flag. From this
eminence he could see the green Salinas Valley in all di-
rections and San Jos6 in the distance. At his feet was
the beautiful Mission San Juan Bautista, the residence
of General Castro, and other buildings about the plaza.
It may be imagined that the fort on Gavilan made a
sensation. Every hour the rancheros rode into San
Juan and tied their horses in the plaza and volubly dis-
cussed the audacity of a gringo of America, a nation
incredibly young, insignificant, plebeian, but withal ag-
gressive, to intrench himself and run up his ridiculous
flag. Incidentally they hoped for battle.

But Fremont's designs were deep and well ordered.
On the second day he saw a party of cavalry ascending
Gavilan Peak and made ready to defend himself. Noth-
ing would have pleased him better than an attack, for
this would have been an act of aggression on the part of
Mexico and directed against, not himself, but the Amer-
ican flag; and his men were all armed and experienced
sharp-shooters. But the cavalry suddenly wheeled and
rode down the mountain. Fremont waited another day
and then reluctantly withdrew. It was evident that
Castro also had no desire for the doubtful fame of pre-
cipitating war.

Fremont withdrew up the valley, and after a week at
Sutter's Fort, where he bought more horses, he began
to march toward Oregon, announcing publicly that he
should return thence to the United States. He did not
make any undue haste, however, and while he was camping
on the shores of Klamath Lake he was overtaken by two
men from Sutter's Fort and informed that Lieut. A. H.

Z02

JOHN A. SUTTER

JAMES W. MARSHALL

GEN. JOHN C. FREMONT

GEN. M. G. VALLEJO

THE BEAR-FLAG REVOLUTION

Gillespie had arrived with despatches for him from the
United States government and was under directions to
find him, wherever he might be. He had trailed him for
many weary leagues north of the fort, and was now in
camp some forty-five miles south and surrounded by
dangers from hostile Indians. "Then," says Fremont,
"I knew that the hour had come!"

When Fremont was examined in 1847-48 before the
Claims Committee in Washington he "protected" the
United States with masterly evasions, but many years
later, both in articles over his own name and in an inter-
view with Josiah Royce, he asserted that the messages
from headquarters — destroyed by Gillespie before enter-
ing Mexico — conveyed to him the authoritative informa-
tion that the United States purposed to seize California,
and that he was absolved from his duty as an explorer
and left to perform his duty as an officer of the United
States. As for Senator Benton's letters delivered by
Gillespie, veiled as the language was, it was clear-cut to
Fremont. "His letters," said he, "made me know dis-
tinctly that at last the time had come when England
must not get a foothold; that we must be first. I was to
act, discreetly but positively."

It must be borne in mind that Fremont was the only
United States army officer in California at that time.
Captain Montgomery, commanding the Portsmouth, was
anchored off Yerba Buena, and Commodore Sloat had
sent the Cyane and the Levant to Monterey. Sloat him-
self was hovering about Mazatlan awaiting definite news
of war before sailing for California; but in all that vast
and coveted territory Fremont alone represented the
army of his coimtry. If he felt a trifle important and

103

CALIFORNIA

disposed to act on his own initiative, who shall blame
him? The trouble with Fremont was not so much that
he thought too well of himself during this momentous
chapter of his country's history, but that he was not so
justified as certain other men have been in similar con-
ditions.

The immediate result of that meeting in the northern
wilderness, after the Indians had been disposed of, was
that Fremont and his little company marched south and
camped near the Marysville Buttes — a fine range of
mountains rising abruptly out of the valley floor. Short-
ly afterward all the American ranchers north of the bay
received an anonymous paper stating that two hundred
and fifty Calif ornians were on their way to the Sacra-
mento Valley, destroying the crops, slaughtering the cat-
tle, and burning the houses of the settlers. Men who
valued their liberty were advised to go at once to the
camp of Captain Fremont. A large number responded,
and the captain informed them that, while he could not,
as an officer of the United States army, commit any
act that might be construed as a hostility by a nation
which, so far as he knew, was still at peace with his own
country, he could and would give them some friendly
advice. The advice was as follows: They should elect
ten or twelve of their number to harass the California
troops; if possible they should secure the leaders and
incarcerate them, thus possibly provoking the fiery
Castro, already irritated almost beyond endurance with
Fremont and Americans in general, to commit some overt
act of hostility against the United States. It would also
be advisable to have horses in readiness upon which to
jBee the country.

J04

'. ■ "■"•^

S'H

Irii^'SP

■m

1 \

^\/- Ji

" JB

^Hfc.

.flii^^

:JH

■1^ r. .n

__-^^^C*^^

HPT

, ;ipB9H

S^^^'^^SREmh!^' ^^

^- ij^ \,^

,^^^H

-' jhI

'■ -,^iii^

_jffK^^

A ^<»,., '■'

■ Mi^M

^jf$W'^

■h^'*'

immM^WS

JP» I ji T' , V

^^c^^hiis^ ^^

^^diM!\.

'•< — --

jfS ^l y-''. -^

BflHii^^ f

\..:-'m

■^^

jS^'t.''^

-'■'''■0'^^^^M

immsmea^^masai i

'' Jill

•? ^ ~ ■

'•■* .,*■* !

' 'f'-;

": ,7^

y. */v* '

'"*• ' ' ~4.'

iH' '^' 1

1 :/l:J

■ '. " .. K

' ^^^^^^Bk

, ^ ' -

i'wIS^

-'< . ;

^^1

V^B

^^vB--,

Ik-jAl: ■^'•1

W I: ^

'!;;''

tHnBiti^'^^

.KJ ^

•■ ^;"'' ^^ ,•;■ '--y

THE BEAR-FLAG REVOLUTION

The first act of the northern drama was the seizing of
two hundred and fifty horses which Francisco d'Arce and
fourteen vaqueros (the bugaboo army) were driving down
to Castro's camp at Santa Clara. The American party,
headed by one Ezekial Merritt, captured the horses, re-
turned with the booty, and informed Fremont that he had
told Arce to tell Castro that if he wanted his horses to
come and get them. Then occured the Bear Flag episode,
and whether Fremont suggested or encouraged it may
never be known. Historians disagree ; Ide — possibly out
of personal vanity — says that it was his own idea, and
Fremont himself indignantly repudiates it. However
this may be, there is no doubt that it was he who de-
spatched a force of settlers, again under Merritt, to Sonoma
to take General Vallejo prisoner, although he remained
himself in the background.

There were no soldiers in the Sonoma garrison at the
time, as the troops were concentrated at Monterey and
Los Angeles, Castro and Pio Pico being engaged in a
furious controversy over the capital of the department,
and both expecting to receive the news of war at any
moment. Vallejo occupied a large house on one side of
the square, and close by were the houses 'of Salvator
Vallejo, Victor Prudon, and Jacob P. Leese. The bar-
racks occupied another side of the plaza, and in the
northeast corner was the mission church.

Just before sunrise of June 14th the Americans, having
stolen into the pueblo at midnight, surrounded the house
of General Vallejo ; and Merritt, Dr. Semple, and William
Knight rapped loudly on the front door. Vallejo, when
invited to lead civil revolutions, may have declined
through moral cowardice or cynicism, but there was

105

CALIFORNIA

never any dispute over his physical bravery and his
dignity as a soldier. He haughtily stuck his head out of a
window and demanded to know who and what they were
that they dared to disturb a personage of his importance
at that hour of the night. While the trio were endeavor-
ing to explain through Knight, who acted as interpreter,
Salvator, Leese, and Prudon were escorted to Vallejo's
"corridor" by an armed guard, and then Knight an-
nounced unequivocally that the Sonomans were prisoners.
It was not necessary to mention Fr6mont's name. The
Americans had real grievances and cause for uneasiness:
General Castro had issued a proclamation ordering all
Americans to become Mexicans at once or leave the
country.

The dawn was breaking, and Vallejo saw that the plaza
was filled with armed men. The California rancheros
north of the bay were not within call, and they were far
outnumbered by their American neighbors. He with-
drew his head, dressed himself in his uniform, buckled on
his sword, and then opened his doors and invited the
three leaders to come in and have a glass of wine. The
door closed and time passed.

It was very cold outside, as cold and gray as California
dawns usually are. Those awaiting the return of the
chiefs became first impatient and then alarmed. Could
Messrs. Semple, Merritt, and Knight be poisoned? One of
their number, John Grigsby, was elected to enter the Jiouse
and return at once with a report. Grigsby entered with-
out the formality of knocking; and he also did not return.
More indignant, and still more alarmed, the victors laid
their heads together and finally induced William Ide to
venture within.

zo6

THE BEAR-FLAG REVOLUTION

Ide knocked, but there was no response. He opened
the door and found his way to the large dining-room.
Merritt was lying half across the table among the
empty glasses and bottles, asleep. Grigsby also slept.
Knight's head was nodding on his chest. Semple, who
seems to have carried his liquor better, was writing the
formal articles of capitulation. Three of the prisoners
were smoking and yawning. General Vallejo regarded
his guests with some philosophy. They could take him
prisoner, but he had made fools of them.

Ide went outside with the articles of capitulation and
read them to the Americans. Over Spanish and American
signatures was an agreement by the Califomians to sub-
mit and to bear no arms, and an announcement that a
government had been established on the principles of the
Republic of the United States. Seciuity of life and prop-
erty was promised to the prisoners.

The next question was what to do with the illustrious
quarry. Some were for marching them to Fremont's
camp. Grigsby staggered out and demanded what were
the orders of Fr6mont. Then it was that the Americans
learned one from the other that the wily Fremont had
given no orders, leaving all to the discretion of his wise
and gallant countrymen. Grisgby fell into a drunken
panic, vowed he had been deceived, and would run away.
Semple ran him back into the house lest his panic be com-
mimicable; and there might, indeed, have been a general
and ignominious stampede had not Ide, who, despite his
absurdities, possessed some of the qualities of leadership,
rallied them by crying out that rather than play the part
of a coward he would remain alone. He sprang on a box
and made a speech, reminded them of all the wrongs, real

J07

CALIFORNIA

and imaginary, they had endured at the hands of the
Calif ornians, and darkly hinted of worse to come; then,
having propped up those wilted spirits, he thundered that
there was "nothing now but to see the thing through."
"We must be revolutionists or suffer the fate of robbers
and horse-thieves !" he cried ; and this appealed to the true
American spirit. They proclaimed Ide their leader, and
the next step was to seize the fort. This act was com-
mitted against the will of Semple and the now compara-
tively sober Merritt and Grisgby, for seizing the fort
meant the cannon and other ammunition in it as well as
the treasury, and constituted an act of war. Their
reasoning, in the light of their articles of capitulation,
and seizure of the comandante militar, was somewhat
obscure, but at all events they repudiated the new leader
and rode off with their prisoners.

Ide was one of those vainglorious men who deceive
themselves (and others for a time) with sounding phrases,
refuse to recognize their itching desire for what they call
fame, who are called idealists by their friends and asses
by their critics, and who are quite certain of being ani-
mated by a mixture of patriotism, brotherly love, and
Christianity. He had been a carpenter in Massachusetts,
and was now a farmer, and father of a large brood in
California; a long, lank, hairy person, who waved his
arms and uttered many words.

His next speech was a ringing declaration of indepen-
dence and a demand for a flag. Fremont had provided
them with none, but there was an artist in the company,
who claimed later to be a relative of Mrs. Abraham
Lincoln. His name was Todd. He found a flour-sack,
which he cut into the proper oblong shape. Then he

io8

THE BEAR-FLAG REVOLUTION

pressed into service a strip from the red-flannel shirt of
another of that gallant band and sewed the red to the
white. Then he found a pot of paint and in the northwest
comer of the "flag" he painted a star, and not far away
the counterfeit presentment of a bear (the Califomians
thought it was a pig) and the proud words "California
Republic." The Mexican flag was hauled down and this

CALIFORNIA BEAR FLAG

work of art and patriotism given to the breeze. The
Bear-flag Revolution entered history. The date was
June 14, 1846.

Ide organized his forces, prohibited intoxicants, re-
assiired the trembling native population (eighteen in all),
promising them a liberty they never yet had enjoyed,
but warning them to be his friends would they live to
enjoy it. He frequently invoked the name of Washington
while haranguing them. It was the only word of his dis-

109

CALIFORNIA

course they understood, but they knew that the ablest
man of their Httle world, Juan Bautista Alvarado, ad-
mired Washington; so they embraced the long ugly
Yankee on both cheeks and promised to be his loyal
subjects.

Fremont was growing restless. War had begun on
May 13th; but, although he assumed that this must be the
case, he had no information, and, full of military ardor as
he was, had much difficulty to keep in the background.
He moved his camp down to New Helvetia, and when
the prisoners arrived consigned them to the fort. This
act of hospitality must have enchanted both Sutter and
Vallejo. Nor could Fremont hear of any act of reprisal
on Castro's part. Finally on the 23d he received a letter
from William Ford, of the Bear-flag party, begging him
to come to Sonoma, as the Americans, who had now been
reinforced and numbered one hundred and thirty, were
despising Ide. He started at the head of seventy-two
mounted riflemen, and when he reached Sonoma was
informed that Capt. de la Torre, of the first division of
Castro's army, was in command of the guerrilla forces
north of the bay and harassing the American settlers.
He ordered Ford to take command of sixty men and
march on the enemy; he would go along with his seventy-
two "to see the sport" and "explore the neighborhood of
the bay." Ford, who seems to have made up in fervor
what he lacked in practice, ran De la Torre so hard that
the Califomian, little used to real fighting, would have
scampered back across the bay if Ford had not cornered
him. So he resorted to strategy. Three prisoners were
taken by the young American "general," and in their
boots were letters betraying the fact that Castro was

THE BEAR-FLAG REVOLUTION

marching on Sonoma. This ruse succeeded, and Fremont
and Ford hastened back to Sonoma while De la Torre
made good his retreat. The three imfortunate prisoners
were shot as an act of vengeance for the death of two
Americans; the famous scout, Kit Carson, who was in
Fremont's train, boasting later that he was the execu-
tioner. Fremont turned about and pursued De la Torre
as far as Sausalito, where he discovered that the Cali-
fornian and his men had crossed the bay. He, too, bor-
rowed a boat, and was rowed to Fort Point. The pre-
sidio was deserted. He spiked the fourteen gims and
retiuned to Sonoma on July ist.

But Castro had no intention of attacking Fremont.
He realized that the Americans were too many and too
determined for him, rumors of war were growing thicker
every hour, and there were United States sloops of war
in the San Francisco and Monterey harbors. He and Pico
forgot their grievances and took counsel regarding armed
resistance should the, enemy appear in force. The Cal-
ifomians may have had quaint methods in battle, but
there was never any question of their elaborate and war-
like methods before the event.

Fremont was deeply mortified. He had fully expected
that Castro would make an attempt to rescue Vallejo.
He appeared to be side-tracked in Sonoma with these
ridiculous Bear -flag warriors, for even Commodore
Montgomery, who had furnished him with ammunition,
while refusing Ide, had declined to follow and capture
De la Torre. He could, however, publicly proclaim his
lack of affiliation with the Bear-flag movement, dispose
of the chief offenders, and prepare for another move. A
number of naval officers had accompanied him back to

8 III

.. CALIFORNIA

Sonoma, prestimably to "see the fun." Fremont called
a convention and stated explicitly before it that as an
officer of the United States army he could not countenance
such an act of aggression as the capture of Sonoma, nor
could he interfere with politics or attack the government;
but he did not consider it an act of war to pursue and
capture Castro, who had insulted the government of the
United States, and take him to Washington as a prisoner.
He then invited the American settlers to enroll them-
selves under his banner, promising them protection and
provisions from his commissariat, and pointing out that
an undertaking of this sort, which, he hoped, would be-
come a brilliant example to the oppressed throughout the
world, must be led by capable and experienced officers.
Ide protested, but was quickly overruled. These shrewd
Americans, whatever may have been their secret opinion
of Fremont's tactics, liked and admired him as much as
they now despised Ide. With cheers they proclaimed him
their chief and pronounced the Bear-flag revolution at
an end. Fr6mont was to lead the American party in
California to independence. Once more it looked as if
Fremont would be able to provoke a battle and be the
war's central figure in California ; and if this had been the
5th of Jtme, who knows what might have happened?

But it was the 5th of July. On the 26. Commodore
Sloat, having heard that the Mexican troops had in-
vaded Texas, entered the Bay of Monterey. On the
7th, although he had as yet received no confirmation
of an engagement, he determined to land and run up
the American flag on the custom-house. Not only was it
imperative to get ahead of the British admiral. Sir George
Seymour of the Collingwood, watching events at San Bias,

112

THE BEAR-FLAG REVOLUTION

but he found the Califomians in a state of war-like fury
with Fremont, who for a time at least had the credit of
forcing the war. Sloat believed that Fr6mont was acting
under positive information and orders; in any case, he
rhade up his mind that it was better to be sacrificed, if he
had to be, "for doing too much than too little," landed
his marines, hauled down the Mexican colors from the
custom-house, and ran up the American flag. The Col-
lingwood arrived on the 1 6th, and Sloat was prepared to give
battle, if necessary. But Great Britain had no intention
of going to war with the United States. She had lost
the race and gracefully withdrew.

The next day the American flag was raised in Yerba
Buena, and a day or two later at Sonoma and Sutter's
Fort. Castro and Pio Pico were understood to be mass-
ing their forces in the south. Commodore Stockton ar-
rived on the Congress, and on the 24th received full com-
mand, succeeding Sloat. Fremont by this time was in
Monterey with his company, which consisted of about
one hundred and sixty men. Stockton formed them into
"The Battalion of California Volunteers," appointed
Fremont major and Gillespie captain, and ordered them
to San Diego by sea to engage the forces of Castro and
Pico and complete the conquest of California; at last it
was definitely known that the two countries were at war.

Gone was the dream of being received by California as
a matter of course or with passionate gratitude. The Cal-
ifomians, although their army was not in sight, were known
to be boiling with fury over the indignities in the north.
To the possible war they had been indifferent, or to its
outcome, but that bandaleros, horse-thieves, canaille,
led by that arch -conspirator Fremont, should take

113

CALIFORNIA

prisoner the comandante militar and other Califomians,
haul down the Mexican flag and elevate their own, and
proclaim a republic, besides shooting three California
soldiers in cold blood, and all unprovoked, seemed to
them a wanton insult, and it aroused them to a deeper
indignation than if Sloat had bombarded Monterey. With
one accord they hated the Americanos; even the Mon-
tereiios, who, under Larkin's subtle manipulation, had
been on the verge of loving them.

Nevertheless, when Fremont arrived in San Diego he
found no army, although horsemen were frequently seen
on the horizon. It was rumored that Castro and Pio
Pico had retreated to Sonora. Stockton, who had been
routing various little California companies on his march
south, took formal possession of Los Angeles and, leaving
Gillespie in charge with a small force, returned with Fre-
mont to Monterey. California might hate the invader,
but it looked as if she was overawed and had concluded
to submit.

The Americans congratulated themselves until August
28th, when a mounted courier dashed into Monterey
crying that all the south was in arms and Gillespie fight-
ing for his life in Los Angeles. This proved to be no
false alarm, and it took the Americans under Fremont,
Stockton, Talbot, and General Kearney, when he arrived
overland from Mexico, until January 13 th to subdue them.
It is not necessary to give in detail those engagements
in which the Americans were not always victorious; for
the Californians, not being opposed to friends and rela-
tions, fought with valor and admirable tactics. But
there was no question of the outcome, and on January
J 3th the entire forcQ surrendered to Fremont, lai4 down

THE BEAR-FLAG REVOLUTION

their arms and dispersed. Fremont by his clemency and
generosity recaptured his lost prestige and was once
more the popular hero. Stockton appointed him "gov-
ernor," but by this time Stockton and Kearney were at
sword's points over the supreme command in California.
The upshot of many broils and the bitter enmity of Kear-
ney was Fremont's trial in Washington for "mutiny"
and numerous other charges. He was found guilty by
the commission, and pardoned by the President; he re-
signed from the army, and returned to California to
embark upon a political career.

And the Calif omians? Their day was over, their sun
had set. Once more the strong devoured the weak.

VIII

GOLD

Sutter felt very happy and secure with the Ameri-
can flag hanging hmp above his fort in the windless
valley summer. Although a European born, he had al-
ways despised the Spaniards as much as he admired the
vigorous enterprising people of the Great Republic. To
be sure, he reigned like a prince at New Helvetia, where
his domain covered thirty- three square miles, with, just
beyond, another vast grant of ninety -three thousand
acres. He had thousands of head of cattle, horses, sheep,
hundreds of Indians who were veritable subjects; his
crops were magnificent in that warm Central Valley, and
practically every trade was pursued at the Fort. It is
not likely that he dreamed of greater wealth under the
Americans so much as of seciuity; for he distrusted
Mexico. But he had known the cities and towns of
the Eastern states, with their teeming industries, and
he longed to see California roused from her lethargy,
all her great resources developed. And in a sense he
certainly forced the pace of California history.

For several years Sutter had watched the emigrant
trains roll down the slopes of the Sierras; and what in-
spired a more or less vague mistrust in the minds of the
Californians was a foregone conclusion to the clever
Swiss. He dispensed hospitality to these weary adven-

ii6

GOLD

turers, selling them all the necessaries of life from his
stores when they had the money to pay, and giving lavish-
ly to the needy. He advised them where to pitch their
tents and how to avoid encroaching on the ranchos, enter-
tained the more presentable at his board, and sent many a
relief party up into the high Sierras when emigrants had
been overtaken by disaster.

Hundreds and hundreds of these covered wagons har-
nessed to oxen crawled down the mountain-trail during
the years 1845-46, most of them from the Middle West,
all of the immigrants in search of little farms in the land
of climate and plenty. During the following two years,
as if in obedience to the law of nature that sends the lull
before the storm, the numbers fell off ; but there was one
party destined to live in the history of California at
least, and its name was Donner.

This was a party of eighty-five people — men, women,
children— that had started early enough to cross the
Sierras before the snow fell, but lost time on a false trail
and began the eastern ascent on the last day of October,
with exhausted provisions. They encountered one bliz-
zard after another. The snow buried their wagons and
cattle; they built cabins of boughs covered with hides,
fearing, in spite of those that pushed on ahead in search of
relief, that they must spend the winter in these terrible
fastnesses. Relief parties from Sutter's Fort were little
more fortunate. They fell coming in, or going out with
the few that were able to brave the storms and travel.
The winter wore on, the blizzards increased in fury and
duration. Men, women, and children died, exhausted
or starved. The Sacramento Valley was covered with a
brilliant carpet of the California wild flowers of spring

117

CALIFORNIA

before the last of the relief parties brought out the last
of the ill-fated emigrants.

Donner, like a good captain, had refused to leave his
foundering ship until those under his command had been
saved. When the second relief party left Donner Lake
they took all that were camped at this point except
Donner, who was now too weak to travel, Mrs. Donner, who
refused to leave her husband, and a man named Keys-
burg, who was ordered to remain and look after them.
When the snows had melted somewhat a third relief
party reached the lake to find Donner laid out in a winding-
sheet, Keysburg looking like a gorilla and acting like a
maniac, and no Mrs. Donner. They found her later in
the camp kettle and a bucket, salted down. When
Keysburg, assisted by a rope round his neck, recovered
his mind, he confessed to having miu-dered and eaten
portions not only of this brave woman, who had perhaps
consciously dared worse than the Sierra storms to console
her dying husband, but of others, before the second relief
party had come. Nor did he deny the story that a child,
perishing with cold, had crept one night into his blankets,
and that he had devoured it before morning.

Such law as there was in the country seemed to break
down before this monster. A year or two later the
Americans would have lynched him; but Sutter, knowing
the effect of the terrible stillnesses under falling snow, the
monotonies of a long Sierra winter, and the hunger and
privation that poison the brain with vitiated blood, let
him go. He lived miserably in the mountains for the
rest of his life, shunned as a pariah.

Sutter had had men engaged in looking for a site for a
sawmill when Fremont arrived and set the country by its

ii8

GOLD

ears. Yerba Buena, the immigrants, and various settle-
ments springing to life along the Sacramento River de-
manded lumber, and the man who supplied them would
make a fortune. Sutter, in spite of his baronial domain
and his many enterprises, was always in debt, and he
would have put this new idea for increasing his revenues
into immediate execution had not Fr6mont carried off
nearly all the able-bodied men in the north.

Sutter also wanted lumber for a projected flour-mill
from which there would be another fine revenue, but the
lumber must be brought from the Sierras. Finally an
immigrant from New Jersey drifted in, a wheelwright by
occupation, James W. Marshall by name, to whom Sutter
gave work, and soon recognized as an honest and indus-
trious man, if somewhat surly and erratic. He talked
over his schemes for the two mills with him, and the up-
shot was that Marshall agreed to find a site and build and
manage the sawmill if Sutter would take him into partner-
ship. Those were frontier days when one did what one
could, not what one would, and articles of partnership
were drawn up : Sutter was to furnish money, men, tools,
and teams, and Marshall would do the rest.

The point selected by Marshall was in a mountain
valley about fifteen hundred feet in altitude; and in
August of that year (1847) he started for the Sierras,
accompanied by six Mormons, who after service in the
Mexican War were on their way back to Salt Lake, but
thankful for remunerative work; and ten or twelve
Indians. The road across the valley, beaten out by
emigrant trains, was about forty-five miles long, but the
men rode or drove the wagons, and in the bracing Sierra
air were soon at work.

119

CALIFORNIA

They were four months felling trees, building the mill
and dam, and digging the race. It was shortly after the
gates had been put in place and the water had been
turned into the race to carry off the loose dirt and rock
that Marshall immortalized himself. The water had
been turned off one afternoon, and he was walking in the
tail-race when he saw something glittering on the bed.
He picked up several of the yellow bits and examined
them doubtfully. They looked Hke gold, but — ^he had
also seen pyrites. However, certain tests convinced him
that he had at least found an alloy in which gold might
predominate. This was on Monday, the 24th* of January.
Several days later he rode into New Helvetia and showed
his little collection of golden peas to Sutter. He, too.

AUTOGRAPH OF

^S^L^f4^^^

THE DiSCOYMR OF GOLD W CAL1R)M1A

January 19th, 1848.

AUTOGRAPH OF J. W. MARSHALL, FROM CALIFORNIA'S GOLDEN JUBILEE

was doubtful, but he possessed an encyclopedia. The
two men read the article on gold carefully, and then ap-
pHed the sulphuric-acid test; finally, with the further

^ The mistakes in dates which prevailed for many years were due to the
fact that Marshall was old and his memory feeble by the time historians
^sked him for statements.

I«9

GOLD

assistance of scales, they convinced themselves that
Marshall's trove was pure gold.

Neither of the men was unduly excited. The gold had
been found in the mill-race only, and was probably iso-
lated, a mere pocket. At all events, they made up their
minds to say nothing until the flour-mill was completed.
Sutter now had a number of intelligent men working
for him, thanks to the Mormon wayfarers, and he had
no desire to lose them.

But, although Nature may keep her golden secrets for
several hundred thousand years, man is bom of woman.
One of Marshall's laborers was sent out every few days
to shoot a deer. The gold discovery had interested this
man Bigler mightily, and he invariably searched the
edges of the streams he passed. He soon became con-
vinced that gold was as thick in the Sierra cafions as the
sands on the shores of the sea; in less than six weeks
Sutter did not have an able-bodied man left at the Fort,
and many of his Indians had joined the stampede.

Yerba Buena at this time was not a mere adjunct to
the military post at the presidio, but a town of eight
hundred and fifty inhabitants, the most important of
whom were the American merchants and traders. Be-
sides the large importing and exporting firms there were
a nimiber of small merchants that supplied the inhabi-
tants with all the necessaries of life and did a quiet but
remunerative business. The mechanics commanded about
two dollars a day. The only excitement was the arrival
of mail from the East, and an occasional fight or fan-
dango, duly recorded in the two weekly newspapers, the
Calif ornian and the California Star. On March 15th the
Calif ornian announced casually that there was rumor of a

121

CALIFORNIA

gold-mine having been discovered at Sutter's sawmill ; and
shortly afterward the editor left to get what news there
might be, at first hand. He visited the original "mine,"
escorted by Sutter himself, but returned to tell his pub-
lic that it was all a sham, and advised them to stay at
home and stick to business. A few weeks later he was
forced to close his printing-office, as there was not a man
left in Yerba Buena to set the type.

There was no telegraph wire in California, nor even a
pony express, but it would seem that the word " gold "
was carried on invisible waves and shouted into every ear.
The large merchants closed their warehouses for want of
laborers, and the small ones left their shops in charge
of their wives, if they had any, or merely turned the key;
mechanics threw down their tools, bought a pick, shovel,
and pan and shouted that they'd work for other men no
more; farmers left their crops to rot in the fields; the
editors followed their printers. The great ranchos were
deserted, for even the indolent Calif omians and their
Indians were dazzled by the hope of sudden wealth, or
by that subtle and deadly magnetism which emanates
from the metal. By July the whole territory was at the
mines or marching there, some in the family coach, many
on horseback, more on foot, others by sloop to the em-
bar coder o near Sutter's Fort. The ranch-houses looked
like the castles of Europe in the Middle Ages, when all
the men were at the wars and the women stayed at
home to spin.

For a time the excitement was confined to California.
There were rumors in the East; but, long before she took
the discovery seriously, the ports of the Pacific, to which
bags of gold-dust were sent to buy provisions for the

122

FROM "LONDON PUNCH," 1860

THE "el dorado" GAMBLING SALOON

t^i

GOLD

camps, had recognized the significance of the placer-
mines; and Mexicans, Peruvians, Chilians, as well as
settlers in Oregon, had begun to pour into California.
But Mr. Larkin wrote twice to the Secretary of State,
Mr. Buchanan, giving a circumstantial account of the
discovery. Before writing the second time he visited
the mines and satisfied himself that they were of enor-
mous richness and extent. It was already known that
the placers extended for miles; and some men were taking
out from one thousand to five thousand dollars' worth of
gold a day. Mexicans told him that there was nothing
so rich in Mexico. Governor Mason also paid a visit
to the mines, and estimated that the gold yield was from
twenty to thirty thousand dollars a day. The metal was
so abundant that many men found their pickaxes, shovels,
pans, and cradles superfluous, and pried it out from the
crevices of the rocks with their jack-knives. These re-
ports, when given to the public, banished any doubts
that may have lingered in the minds of those who had
received letters from their friends at the diggings, and
in the spring of 1849 the great stampede began.

Once more Sutter watched the emigrant wagons roll
down the slopes of the Sierra, this time looking not like
thin cascades, but avalanches of dusty snow. Already
he had rented buildings to enterprising storekeepers,
who were paying him a hundred dollars a month for one
room; but to the few mechanics he had induced to re-
turn he was paying ten dollars a day.

About twenty-five thousand of the gold-seekers crossed
the Sierras that year. The government had made a con-
tract with the Pacific Mail Steamship Company for a line
of monthly steamers between New York ^nd San Fran,-

f23

CALIFORNIA

Cisco by way of Panama, and thousands more took the
journey by sea. There were few women in either wagon-
trains or ships, and almost without exception, during
that first exodus, the men were yotmg, strong, and of
good character. Many of them had recently been mustered
out of the army that had reduced Mexico to terms ; they
were excellently disciplined and accustomed to hardships.
Some were young men of good family whom necessity
compelled to work, and — "good families" were not very
democratic in those days — preferred to work with pick
and shovel in distant California to clerking in aristocratic
New York or Boston. California was truly democratic
for several years, and some of these young men who were
not strong enough for the hard work of the mines made
a living as they could in San Francisco. One man who
afterward, when fortune had smiled on him, became a
brilliant member of San Francisco's young society and
finally died of lockjaw as the result of being wounded
in the aristocratic duel, peddled shoe-strings for several
months until a family friend discovered him and set him
up in business. But to return to the placers.

It is estimated that not less than seventy thousand
immigrants arrived from the East during 1849 and went
straight to the mines. Among them, of course, were
many deserting sailors; and for months the Bay of San
Francisco was crowded with craft marooned and waiting
for the gold-fever to subside. Thousands more poured
in from the Pacific ports; at the end of the year there
were not less than a hundred thousand whites in Cali-
fornia, most of them Americans. Every trade, every
class, was represented, also every variety of human
nature, as was soon discovered when the camps, so far

124

GOLD

from the towns, became a law unto themselves, although
there was little trouble during that first year. The men
worked hard by day, excited, silent, minding their own
business strictly; in the evenings they spun yams of
home before rolling into their blankets to be lulled to
sleep by the singing of the pines, rent now and again by
the long yowls of the coyote or the snorting of the grizzly
bear. The gold yield of that year was twenty-three
million dollars.

But those rich and apparently inexhaustible placers
soon became a magnet for the type of man that flocks where
gold is after some one else has taken the trouble to make
it or extract it from the earth. Gamblers and sharpers
of all sorts began to take passage for California, many
of them remaining in San Francisco, but others going to
the mines and pitching their tents. Soon every camp had
its faro-table and other varieties of gambling "hells";
dance-halls and the easy-money female followed as a
matter of course; there were as many bars as there were
gallons of bad whisky; and the work of demoralization
began. Men who were tired of work or had worked as
little as possible began to make a profession of gambling
or mined only to have " dust " to stake. Fights were of
daily occurrence, and if one of the antagonists fell no
one bothered to try the victor. Thieves and disrep-
utable characters were often run out of camp by the
better class of miners, or left it at the end of a rope.
Few men returned from that great orgie of gold precisely
the men they were when they reached those beautiful
silent canons and began the work of tearing them to
pieces; although many a man's character stood the test,
and he returned to civilization with a fortune in his belt,

125

CALIFORNIA

no blood on his knife, and a character so hardened and
toughened that he was quite equal to the task of founding
the greatness of San Francisco. Others boasted to their
dying day of how many times they had "killed their
man"; and countless others, despite that auriferous
abundance, failed to "make their pile," owing to physical
weakness sometimes, but mental weakness generally;
they slunk back to the towns or remained to haunt the
camps, whine about their luck until they were kicked
out or died of starvation, or blew out their brains "up the
gulch." Darwin would have been delighted and social-
ists puzzled. Even Marshall died in poverty. His saw-
mill was soon overrun by the ruthless miner, and he
seemed to have had little affinity for the metal he dis-
covered. Either he was a poor miner or he could not
get along with other men; like the rolling stone he had
always been, he kept moving on, accomplishing nothing.
During the seventies the legislature voted him a pension
for a few years, then forgot him, and he died old and
alone in a mountain cabin. A few years later California
suddenly remembered him and spent several thousand
dollars on a big bronze effigy, which now stands over
his grave near the spot where he enriched the world and
starved to death.

And Sutter? Wealth poured in on him for a time, for
if he could not supply all the wants of that vast concourse
of miners the men who did had to rent his land and
buildings. His sawmill was destroyed, but his grist-
mills went day and night, and he could command any
price for his cattle and horses. Moreover, his was the
fame of the discovery, and he entertained constantly at
his fort men who were his intellectual equals, or visited

126

GOLD

them in San Francisco. His popularity was enormous,
aside from his hospitality. He was now a man of forty-
six, gray, but ruddy and erect, his blue eyes always full of
good will, and he delighted in playing the grand seignieur
either when entertaining his equals or giving largess to
the unfortunate; his manners were more natural and
simple than was to be expected of a man who had ruled
so long. He seldom visited the mines himself, but often
laughed at the names his droll new countrymen had given
them: Whisky Bay, Brandy Gulch, Poker Flat, Seven-
up Ravine, Loafer's Retreat, Git-Up-and-Git, Gospel
Swamp, Gouge Eye, Ground Hog's Glory, Lousy Ravine,
Puke Ravine, Blue Belly Ravine, Petticoat Slide, Swelled-
Head Diggings, Nary Red, Hangtown, Shirt-tail Caiion, Red
Dog, Coon Hollow, Skunk Gulch, Piety Hill, Hell's Delight.
Whole chapters of mining history might be evoked from
these names alone. No wonder that Bret Harte was inspired !

But although Sutter entertained many gentlemen, their
dress differed little from that of the humblest of their
associates : a blue or red woolen shirt, pantaloons finishing
inside long heavy hobnailed boots and belted in at the
waist, a slouch-hat over long hair and uncut beard. In
the belt were the inevitable brace of pistols and bowie-
knife. The typical miner of any class was as cool as he
was reckless and hot-tempered; as time went on he be-
came more and more laconic and more and more profane,
and the best of them drank hard and gambled, little as
it might affect them. They amused themselves at the
gaming-tables for want of other entertainment and lost as
lightly as they won. Some hated the thought of living in
a house again, governed by the laws of civilization; others
"made their pile" and returned to the city or "back

9 127

CALIFORNIA

East," satisfied with their adventure and ready for the
more serious matters of Hfe.

The gold yield of 1850 was $50,006,000; of 1853,
$65,000,000. Then the placers began to show signs of
decline, and men left them in hordes. Sutter had laid
out the town of Sacramento, a square mile about his fort,
with two streets running through the marsh down to the
embarcadero. This he had sold in lots, and as he wit-
nessed the troubles and disgraceful riots caused by
"squatters," the lawless element that had entered the
country shouting that California belonged to the American
and that no Mexican grant, despite the treaty, should be
valid, he may have had some premonition of his own fate.
If he did not, he was soon enlightened. These needy
adventurers "squatted" wherever the land pleased them,
swarming not only over the rich grants of Sutter, but of
the rancheros. The only hope lay in the courts, and the
result was years of litigation and either a complete loss
in the end or the cession of the more valuable parts to
lawyers to cover their fees.

And the lawyers that left their Eastern practices to come
where prices were high and pickings abundant, were, "with
a few notable exceptions, men of as little decency and
principle as the squatters. They had no desire to break
their backs at the mines, but no aversion whatever from
soiling their hands. They not only charged their clients
exhorbitantly and were on sale to the other side, but,
being real Americans, they despised foreigners and were
solicitous of squatter votes.

The details of the despoiling of the Califomians is
one of the ugliest chapters not only of state, but Amer-
ican history; for Congress, by passing Senator Gwin's

128

GOLD

bill, subtly worded but conceived entirely in the
interests of the Americans in California, made de-
spoliation of the original grant -holders practically cer-
tain.

Sutter's grants were worth millions, but in 1870 he
had not a dollar. The California legislature of that year
granted him a pension of two hundred and fifty dollars a
month, but discontinued it when he went to Washington
to ask for justice. He died in poverty, this great land
baron, monarch of all he surveyed for so many years, and
lies in Littiz, Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. The year
of his death was i88o, and he was seventy-seven years old.

SAN FRANCISCO

In April, 1806, Rezanov, anchored off the presidio of
San Francisco, dreamed of a Russian navy in the bay,
saw the gaunt hills and sandy amphitheater of the penin-
sula set with the palaces and churches and bazars, the
lofty towers with their Tartar domes, the slender crosses
of his native land; the gay California sun shedding a daz-
zling light on marble walls and golden roofs. In April,
1906, San Francisco, one of the ugliest cities in the worid,
but one of the most famous and prosperous, was de-
stroyed by earthquake and fire. It has risen again,
handsome, substantial, earthquake-proof and fireproof,
its picturesqueness and "atmosphere" gone for ever, but
on the eve of a larger population and commercial activi-
ties through the Panama Canal; climbing steadily over
the hills toward the south, and threatening to embrace
the towns around the bay; in the course of a few years
boimd to become one of the greater cities of the United
States, as it has, almost from its beginnings, been one of
the most notable.

Between the dreams of Rezanov, dust long since in
Krasnoiarsk, and the triumph of American materialism
over the desire of a few for the beautiful and artistic city
Nature had in mind when she planned the site, San Fran-
qisco has passe4 through many changes intrinsic an4

130

SAN FRANCISCO

fortuitous. It was these changes, in number out of all
proportion to her brief existence, which made the "at-
mosphere" that went up in smoke in April, 1906.

The battery of Yerba Buena in Rezanov's day was situ-
ated between our Telegraph Hill and Rincon Point on
a cove afterward filled and built upon, but then be-
ginning at Montgomery Street. Coyotes and even bears
roamed over the sand-dunes, and the sea-gulls were al-
most as numerous as on Alcatraz and Angel Island. It
was in the month of May, 1835, that Governor Figueroa
determined to lay out a settlement at Yerba Buena, and
offered William A. Richardson, the Englishman who had
arrived in California in 1822 and naturalized in 1829, the
position of captain oethe port if he would settle on the
cove. Richardson, ;^j.io was a business man, and who
seems to have recognized the importance of Yerba Buena,
consented, and with his family moved north at once from
his home near the San Gabriel Mission.
- The governor died shortly after Richardson reached
the end of that long slow journey of many weary leagues
with his train of bullock-carts packed with women, chil-
dren, and household goods. He arrived at the cove in
June, and literally pitched his tent, awaiting the next
move of the government. After Figueroa's death Jose
Castro, as primer vocal, confirmed Richardson's appoint-
ment and told him to select a site for the village. The
alcalde of the Pueblo y^)olores was the surveyor appointed,
and in October he lai^ out the foundation street — La Calle
de la Fundacion — running from a point near the present
comer of Kearney and Pine streets northwest to the
water. That seems to have exhausted him, and he re-
tired to Dolores, while Richardson selected for himself a

131

CALIFORNIA

lot one hundred varas square, embracing the present Du-
pont Street between Clay and Washington streets.
There, with what assistance he could get from the Indians
remaining at the Pueblo Dolores, he erected his rude
dwelling. This is known in history as the first house
built on the site of the future city of San Francisco; but
it is to be supposed that the Mexican officers in charge
of the battery for many years did not sleep in the sand.

The next settler was Jacob P. Leese, an American who
had arrived in California the year before and engaged in
the mercantile business in Monterey. He came to San
Francisco to establish a branch house and do business
of all sorts not only with the many ships that took shel-
ter in Yerba Buena waters, but wf'.h the ranchers north
and east of the bay. Governor Chi^.^) gave him permission
to select a lot one hundred varas square, but not within
two hundred yards of the embarcadero, that space being
reserved by the government. Leese, who brought lum-
ber and working-men with him, put up a frame building
sixty by twenty-five, after choosing a lot near the present
site of the Plaza or Portsmouth Square. Shortly before
it was completed this astute merchant issued invitations
for a great Fourth of July celebration, Captain Richard-
son, not being overwhelmed with work, riding north and
east with the invitations. General Vallejo rode down
to this entertainment with a retinue from Sonoma, him-
self a gallant figure on one of his "superbly caparisoned
horses. Sutter came by water in a large flat-bottomed
boat manned by ten naked Indians. He sat alone in the
stern, quite as imposing as General Vallejo.

The other rancheros and residents of the pueblos,
Americans and CaUfomians, men and women, came on

132

SAN FRANCISCO

horse and in carreta, and crossed the bay Heaven knows
how. But they found, for that day, a grand entertain-
ment awaiting them. Numerous tents had been erected
for their comfort, and flying above them as well as at
each corner of a great marquee and the new house were
the American and Mexican flags. The officers of the
presidio were there, visitors from Monterey, and the cap-
tains and supercargoes from the vessels in the harbor —
which had furnished the bunting. They were entertained
at a really magnificent banquet under the marquee at
five o'clock on the 4th; a band composed of drum,
clarinet, fife, and bugle discoursed airs national and
sentimental, when the more important of the sixty guests
were not on their feet complimenting one another and
making toasts. Vallejo toasted Washington in flowery
Spanish, and all cheered wildly when another speaker
alluded feelingly to the union of the Mexican and Ameri-
can flags.

When the banquet finished the guests danced in the
new house until the evening of the 5 th, rested in their
tents, and, again replete, dispersed regretfully to their
homes, invoking blessings on the Fourth of July. A few
days later Leese's store was packed with twelve thousand
dollars' worth of merchandise, and his grateful guests
were the first and most amenable of his purchasers. In
the following year he married a sister of General Vallejo,
and their daughter, Rosalia Leese, born April 15, 1838,
was the first white child born in the future San Francisco.

Leese remained the most successful and energetic citi-
zen of Yerba Buena until 1841, when he sold out to the
Hudson's Bay Company and moved to Sonoma. Soon
after Alvarado v/as firmly established in Monterey he

CALIFORNIA

asked that most enlightened and pubHc-spirited of gov-
ernors to give his attention to the languishing village on
the cove. Jose Castro was prefect of the district, and
immediately received orders Irom Alvarado to have a
survey made of Yerba Buena and of such of the adjoin-
ing lands as were likely to become incorporated in a
growing pueblo. Leese had in his household a young
civil engineer named Jean J. Vioget, and Castro appointed
him to survey the pueblo and give it streets.

Vioget 's little city was laid out between the present
Broadway, Montgomerj^ Powell, and California streets,
obliterating the Calle de la Fundacion. This was in
1839, and soon afterward other merchants saw the advan-
tages of living on that popular harbor. The more active
business men were foreigners, Americans for the most
part, although a few Mexicans had little shops, and one
even had a grist-mill. William Thomes, who visited
CaHfornia as a sailor -boy in 1843, describes this fair
sample of Mexican industry as follows:

We came to an old adobe biiilding about a cable's length from
Clark's Point and looked in. It seemed to be a mill for grinding
wheat, for there was a poor disconsolate-looking mule connected with
a pole, and it would xnake two revolutions of the ring and then stop
and turn round to see what was going on at its rear. A cross be-
tween a poor Mexican and an Indian, who seemed to have charge of
matters, would yell out in the shrillest of Spanish after each halt:

"Carambal Diablo/ Amiga/ Malo/ Vamos/"

Then the mule, after hearing such frightful expressions, quietly
dropped its ears and went to sleep, and the Mexican would roll a
cigarette, strike fire with flint and steel, and smoke contentedly for
half an hour, then get up and hurl some more bad words at his com-
panion. . . .

It may be imagined that this breed of Mexicans was

of little more use for loading and unloading and working

in the warehouses than the Indians; and, as a matter of

134

SAN FRANCISCO

fact, the men employed, until the gold-rush brought thous-
ands of American laborers into the country, were Kanakas
— natives of the Hawaiian Islands. Even then there was
an American saloon on the Plaza, but it seems to have
done little business except when a ship was in harbor.

In 1846 there were about two hundred people living in
Yerba Buena. The most notable of the California resi-
dents was Dona Juana Briones. She was a widow, hand-
some and vivacious, and, electing to live in what to her
eyes no doubt was a gay and busy city, built an adobe
house, raised chickens, and kept several cows in a corral,
so wild that they had to be lassoed and their legs tied
before they could be milked. She had a big white-
washed sala and gave many a fandango, to which all were
invited, irrespective of nationality. But it must have
been a very quiet life in the little gray, foggy, wind-swept
village ; and even the American business men, no doubt,
took their daily siesta and closed their stores in the middle
of the day. The first real excitement — for they paid little
attention to the internal revolutions — was caused by Fre-
mont and his escapades in the north, the arrival of Mont-
gomery on the Portsmouth, and the news that the United
States and Mexico might go to war at any moment.

On the morning of July 8, 1846, Captain Montgomery,
accompanied by seventy sailors and marines, landed and
marched to the Plaza. There, under a salute of twenty-
one guns from the Portsmouth, he hauled down the Mexican
flag and ran up the Stars and Stripes. The Plaza was re-
christened Portsmouth Square by the delighted American
residents, and shortly afterward the street along the em-
barcadero was named for Montgomery. The first Ameri-
can alcalde was Lieut. Washington A. Bartlett, of the

135

CALIFORNIA

Portsmouth, and he appointed Jasper O'Farrell to resttr-
vey the pueblo. The practical American cossed the
streets at right angles and enlarged the blocks, but the
achievement of which he and Bartlett were proudest
was the naming of the streets, heretofore undesignated
in that friendly village, after the men prominent in the
history of the moment: Montgomery, Kearney, O'Far-
rell, Beale,^ Mason, Powell, Stockton, and California.

It is to Bartlett also that we finally owe our San Fran-
cisco, between whose tonic atmosphere and uneasy sur-
face we were thus permitted to grow up instead of in
a remote and ill-weathered comer of a subsidiary bay.
General ' Vallejo, Thomas 0. Larkin, and Dr. Semple,
landholders of the north, certain of the destiny of Cali-
fornia, although ignorant of its great auriferous deposits,
and desirous to be among the first to reap the benefit of a
rapidly increasing population, conceived a subtle and far-
sighted scheme. They projected a town on the shores of
San Pablo Bay, a continuation, in the north, of San Fran-
cisco Bay, to be called the City of Santa Francisca, nomi-
nally as a marital compliment on the part of the general,
really because they knew that a city so identified with
the famous Bay of San Francisco would be a natural bait
both for settlers and sea-craft, becoming in the course of
a few years the metropolis of the future state.

Fortunately, Bartlett's mind worked as quickly and
astutely as theirs. Before they had time to record the
title of their town he changed the name of his from Yerba
Buena to San Francisco, publishing the ordinance in the

* Named for Lieutenant afterward General Beale, who distinguished him-
self during the final "war" with the Calif omians. He was the father of
Truxtun Beale, a well-known citizen of San Francisco and mentioned in
appendix,

SACRAMENTO. CAUFORNIA 185O

SAN FRANCISCO

Authenticated picture of the city as it appeared in 1846-47

SAN FRANCISCO

California Star, recently started by Sam Brannan.
Vallejo, Larkin, and Semple protested in vain. Con-
fusion must be avoided, and the fuming capitalists on the
Straits of Carquinez were obliged to call their village
Benicia, the second name of Sefiora Vallejo. There is
to-day a town near by called Vallejo. But neither of
these little northern communities has risen to the dignity
of ten thousand inhabitants, although there is an arsepal
at Benicia and the city named for the old general is close
to the Mare Island Navy Yard.

Brannan had arrived on the 31st of July, 1846, on the
Brooklyn, with a ship-load of Mormons. It was his purpose
to found a colony on the bay and erect a great tabernacle.
But he found the American flag flying in Portsmouth
Square, and the United States gO"«''emment was not
partial to Mormon colonies. However, they pitched a
large number of tents on the sand-hills behind the little
town and prepared to make the best of it. Some joined
Fr6mont when he marched south to subdue the Califor-
nians, a few sought farms, and later many went on to
Salt Lake; but for the moment they were a decided
acquisition to Yerba Buena, as there were many excellent
mechanics among them who had brought implements
and tools. Their leader carried everything necessary for
printing a newspaper, and on January 9, 1847, published
the first number of the Star, having previously issued an
extra containing General Taylor's official report of the
battles of Palo Alto and Resaca de la Palma. Brannan's
generous details in the issue of April loth of the horrors
of the Donner party pales to a mere modest primrose the
yellowest efforts of to-day. So estimably has our taste
for morbid, hideous, and exaggerated details decreased

137

CALIFORNIA

since 1847 that it would be quite out of the question to
transfer extracts on this absorbing topic from the Cali-
fornia Star into a respectable history.

On May 28th there was a grand illumination in San
Francisco in honor of General Taylor's victory over the
Mexicans at Buena Vista. Every home, tent, warehouse,
and shop flew the American flag and was as brilliant at
night as a limited amount of oil and tallow would permit.
Of course, there was a grand fandango. Fire-crackers
cracked for twenty-four hoiu-s, and big bonfires flared on
the sand-dunes and on the steep granite hills behind the
settlement.

At this time there was every prospect that San Francisco
would continue to be a peaceful and prosperous little town
whose worst vice was gambling in moderation. It was
well governed by the alcalde and the ayuntamiento, a town
council of six members, initiated by Governor Figueroa;
there was little strain on the spirit of law and order; a
school flourished; the leaders and merchants were growing
rich. There were two "hotels," several boarding-houses;
private dwellings were slowly increasing in number, and
there were one or two billiard-rooms, pool-rooms, and ten-
pin -alleys. Lots on the water-front were selling, two
wharves were in the process of construction. There were
twelve mercantile and commission houses, agencies of
large firms in the East, British America, South America,
and the "Sandwich Islands" (H. I.). The little town was
clustered just above Montgomery Street, that being the
water-front, and if it had not the physical allurements of
the southern towns, and only men seriously engaged in
business were attracted to it, nevertheless it was the city
preferred by the sea-captains, for it was full of bustle and

138

SAN FRANCISCO

real business. The center of life by day was the Plaza;
at night there were dances, and the men guided their
womenkind to the scene of festivity with a dark-lantem;
there was also much entertaining on the war-ships and
commoner craft out at anchor. Men settled down to the
business of getting rich slowly, enjoying life in a way,
looking forward to retirement in some one of the civilized
cities "at home." Only those that had married Cali-
fornia women dreamed for a moment that they would
spend their lives on this edge of the world where, the
occasional news of the war over, the only excitement was
when the ships sailed through the Golden Gate, bringing
merchandise and mail.

And then, presto ! all things changed.

For some weeks after the news of the gold discovery
drifted into San Francisco that well-regulated com-
munity poo-poohed the idea. Then suddenly the stam-
pede. When Governor Mason arrived in San Francisco
from Monterey on June 20th he found not an able-bodied
man in the place save the merchants (and not all of those),
who were unloading the merchandise themselves, even the
sailors having nm off to the mines. He wrote to Commo-
dore Jones, who was at Mazatlan, that, treaty or no treaty,
the gold discovery had settled the destiny of California.
But before this letter reached its destination definite news
of the Treaty Guadalupe Hidalgo, which ceded Alta Cali-
fornia (including what we now call Nevada, Utah, and
Arizona), New Mexico, and Texas to the United States
for the sum of fifteen million dollars, had arrived. Mexico
cursed herself when she heard that one of her cheaply sold
provinces had turned into a river of gold, but luck as ever
was with the United States.

139

CALIFORNIA

There was by this time another newspaper in San
Francisco (removed from Monterey) called the Califor-
nian, and on the 29th of May, 1848, it published this in-
dignant editorial :

The whole country from San Francisco to Los Angeles, and from the
sea to the base of the Sierra Nevada, resounds with the cry, "GOLD!
GOLD ! ! GOLD ! ! ! " while the field is left half planted, the house half
built, and everything neglected but the manufacture of shovels and
pickaxes, and the means of transportation to a spot where a man
obtained one hundred and twenty-eight dollars' worth of the real stuj
in one day's washing, and the average for all is twenty dollars per
diem.

The following week there was no Star. Even the editor
was on the highroad, a pick over one shoulder, a shovel
over the other, and a pan under his arm.

In September certain leading citizens who had caught
the gold-fever recovered and hastened back to the de-
serted city, and a number of American working-men, realiz-
ing the anxiety of those and other eminent citizens who
had proved immune, to have their work done and erect
new buildings, and that labor would command almost as
much a day as an ordinary man could pan out while
breaking his back, transferred themselves to San Fran-
cisco, Soon afterward, the first brick building erected in
California was finished. It was on the corner of Mont-
gomery and Clay streets and was the property of Mellis
and Howard.

Still, those that remained in the town must have
taken a gloomy view of the future. Shops were closed;
it was difficult to obtain the commonest necessaries of
life. The little city so serene and prosperous a few
months before now looked like a deserted mining-camp
itself. The windows of empty shops were broken by

140

SAN FRANCISCO

the small boy, who never under any circumstance deserts
the type; doors were barricaded; merchandise was rot-
ting on the wharves; and prices threatened to wipe out
tidy little fortimes. The streets of the town huddled on
the bay looked like dreary canons running up into the
gray unfriendly hills. During the spring and autumn
there was little change, although a number of unsuccess-
ful miners returned to their old homes emaciated, feeble,
and dispirited. Those that could work demanded ten and
twenty dollars a day, and the price of all foodstuffs had
risen four hundred per cent. The shopkeepers were
among those that returned early^ knowing the necessities
at the mines. Within the first eight weeks after the ter-
ritory was alive to the richness of the ''diggings" two
hundred and fifty thousand dollars in gold-dust had
reached San Francisco, and within the next eight weeks
six hundred thousand dollars more; all to purchase sup-
plies at any price for the miners.

But early in 1849 San Francisco, predestined city of
many changes, entered upon a new phase of her chec-
quered career. Ship-load after ship-load of immigrants
arrived from the East, and of necessity passed through
San Francisco and were fitted out for the mines. They
paid what w^as demanded for picks, shovels, pans, and
camping-outfits: about fifteen dollars apiece for the im-
plements of mining, and from fifty to eighty dollars for
a rocker. These, with the overland immigrants, were the
men who were to go down to history as the "pioneers of
'49," and there were some thirty-five thousand of them.

Before the year was well advanced San Francisco could
no longer complain of dullness. Not only had many
more ships arrived in the harbor — where they remained

141

CALIFORNIA

helpless for months — but the later ones brought as many
scalawags as honest miners. In a short time San Fran-
cisco had more saloons and gambling-houses than she
had dwellings, and they were open twenty-four hours of
the day. By this time many of the miners were returning,
some with mere sacks of gold-dust, others with fortunes,
but all longing for at least a semblance of civilization
once more after the incredible barbarisms of mining life.
Many intended to return to the East as soon as a ship
could be manned, and it has been stated that not one of
those that really enriched themselves remained to build
up San Francisco; all found amusement meanwhile at the
gambling-houses.

These were scattered all over the town, but the largest
and most dazzling were clustered about the Plaza. No
matter how rough the structures, they invariably had large
plate-glass windows, music, a handsome bar, a handsomer
cashier, and dozens of little tables. Day and night these
tables were surrounded by men in flannel shirts, top-
boots, and sombrero or silk hat. On the tables beside
the cards were little bags of gold-dust and piles of "slugs"
worth ten or twenty dollars each. In the aisles himdreds
of people passed continually, watching the gambling or
awaiting their turn at a table, while hundreds more pressed
eagerly against the plate-glass windows. And every grade
of life was represented, as at the mines: scions of good
families, young soldiers, small merchants, mechanics, par-
sons, school-teachers, editors and their former printers,
sailors, firemen, farmers, tramps, and professional gam-
blers. Of all these gambling-houses "El Dorado" be-
came the most famous. Fortunes were lost and won.

New "hotels" were erected in an incredibly short time,

142

SAN FRANCISCO

but could not catch up with the demand, and hundreds
slept in bunk-houses that looked like the worst of accom-
modations on a river steamboat. Tents also were pitched
in the city streets, and the abandoned hulks of two
beached vessels served as quarters for the night. But
all were gay and philosophical, unless they ruined them-
selves at the tables, when they either remained philo-
sophical or shot themselves out in the sand-hills.

The merchants soon adapted themselves to the high
prices and wages, as employers ever do, and gouged
somebody else. At the end of July, 1849, the population
numbered five thousand, and in September twenty
thousand. Real estate was booming, the city was spread-
ing over the hills, the new houses being mainly "canvas,
blanket, and bough-covered tents." But building-lots
had been surveyed, and a large number of warehouses
and stores were building, while the bay was a forest of
masts. The streets were almost impassable with shifting
sand-banks in summer and mud after the first rains.
The plank sidewalks were seldom repaired. Rats played
in the ooze, and there were enormous heaps of rubbish
everyivhere. But no one minded these trifling draw-
backs. All were rich, or expected to be. The shop-
keepers cried aloud their wares in front of their doors,
"sized up" a new arrival's qualifications for being "done,"
and made their charges accordingly. As for the mechanic,
he made thirty dollars by day and lost it at night in one
of the gambling-saloons "glittering like fairy palaces,
where all was mad, feverish mirth, the heated brain never
allowed to get cool while a bit of coin or dust was left."
Such was San Francisco in 1849.
10

CRIME AND FIRE

During San Francisco's short existence as a growing
pueblo everybody made a good living without extor-
tion, and the more energetic of the merchants looked
forward to independence in the course of a few years.
Leese and Richardson had already retired to the country,
and the little town, despite fogs and winds and rats and
fleas and isolation, must have been as light of heart and
free of care as is possible to any community of human
beings on this imperfect planet. There is no record of
bitter enmities, murder, or even the lighter crimes. There
was not a poHceman in the city, and if they had no church
tieither had they found it necessary to build a jail. It is
ttue there was some gambling and the inevitable saloon,
but neither led to excess nor crime. Moderation, tem-
perance in the real meaning of the word, seems to have
been the keynote between 1835 and 1848.

But that was the last tranquillity San Francisco was
to know. Her history has been singularly imhappy.
Both nature and man have done their utmost to destroy
her; and even now it remains to be seen whether she has
survived grafting politicians only to be throttled by labor-
unionism, too ignorant to realize that dead geese no
longer lay golden eggs.

The exodus to the gold-mines was the first convulsion

144

CRIME AND FIRE

to shake San Francisco fairly out of her true Califomian
serenity ; but as the greater number of the sober-minded
citizens returned within a few months, Httle harm would
have been done as far as law and order were concerned
had all emigrants elected to cross the Sierra Nevadas.
But the thousands that passed through San Francisco
left their refuse behind them,, men who since the begin-
ning of history have preyed upon their fellows, sometimes
frankly as thieves and highwaymen, as often endeavoring
to deceive the public, and possibly themselves, under
sounding titles and protestations of brotherly love.

It was in the spring of 1849 that a gang of young des-
perados calling themselves "The Regulators," but soon
rechristened "The Hounds," loudly proclaimed that they
were an association formed to protect the weak against
the strong, to succor those that were too "green" to bear
the new burden of wealth alone — there being so little law
in San Francisco — to be as a reliable squadron in times of
danger. On Sundays they paraded the streets with flags
flying and band playing. But busy and absorbed as
San Francisco was during those exciting months, it did
not take her long to define the status of the Regulators.
They were, in truth, an admirably organized band of cut-
throats, thieves, cowards, and bulHes. Wise enough to
avoid the muscular American, unless he was quite alone,
they confined their attention to the Chilenos and other
foreigners who lived in tents beyond the city limits.
Their own headquarters were a large tent near the Plaza,
which, in fond memory, no doubt, of the great city of the
East, they called Tammany Hall. It is to be presumed
that they slept by day, for every night, armed with dubs
and bludgeons, they sneaked from their lairs on Tele-
US

CALIFORNIA

graph Hill to the isolated tents, taking the gold-dust of
those more recently rettimed from the mines, and any-
thing else they fancied, and beating all that presumed to
resist. These foreigners, being far less robust than the
Americans, remained at the mines only long enough to
accumulate a bag of dust or nuggets; and, owing to the
enterprise of the Hounds, seldom enjoyed the excitement
of losing either at the gaming-tables. It was useless to
appeal to the alcalde, for no alcalde could enforce laws
without police. In those early days no wrongs were
redressed until they became so abominable as to call
for a mass-meeting of the citizens.

The citizens stood this infliction for several months
with the notorious patience of Americans. They no
longer ventiired into the street at night, and barricaded
their doors and windows; but their gorge rose slowly.

It was these very people scattered in tents over the hill-
sides that the Hounds claimed to be waging war against
for the benefit of the good American citizen; many of
the men and all of the women of the tent colony were
wayfarers of little character, and as they were Chileans,
Peruvians, or Mexicans, no doubt it was that contempt
of foreigners so ingrained in the American mind that per-
mitted the outrages to last as long as they did.

The Hounds naturally grew bolder and bolder. On
the afternoon of Sunday, the 15 th of July, they returned
from a piratical adventure among the ranchos across the
bay; triumphant and very drunk, they suddenly deter-
mined to outdo themselves. Flourishing firearms and
bludgeons, and led by their "lieutenant," who wore a
uniform of sorts, they paraded the streets shouting and
screaming and occasionally discharging a gun into the

146

CRIME AND FIRE

air. At sundown they made a violent descent upon the
foreign quarter, tore down the tents, plundered the ter-
rified dwellers of their last dollar and everything port-
able, then beat them until the hills resounded with groans
and screams, pelted them with stones, and yelled like
Indians as they saw the blood flow; finally, they let off
their firearms, killing a number of those that were unable
to hide in the brush or find refuge in the town. They
kept this up all night.

On the following day San Francisco rose to a man.
Alcalde Leavenworth, urged by Sam Brannan, a better
citizen than Mormon, issued a proclamation calling a
mass-meeting at three o'clock in the Plaza. At that hour
all work was suspended, all shops and places of business
closed. Every resident of San Francisco except the
Hounds and their victims packed Portsmouth Square.
Mr. W. D. M. Howard, one of the many Eastern men of
education and ability who had settled in the country,
was called upon to preside, and Dr. V. J. Fourgeaud was
named secretary. Brannan addressed the meeting, ex-
pressing the alarm and disgust of all at the criminal horde
which they had permitted to attain full growth in their
midst, and giving a terse but eloquent recital of the
Hounds' many outrages. A subscription was taken up
for the wounded and plundered foreigners, and then a
volunteer force of twenty-three grim and determined
citizens were organized as constables to dispose of the
Hounds. They were armed to the teeth, and that same
afternoon arrested twenty of the outlaws and imprisoned
them on the United States ship Warren.

Another meeting meanwhile was held in the Plaza, and
Dr. William J. Gwin and James C. Ward were elected

147

CALIFORNIA

associate judges to assist Alcalde Leavenworth, who has
not left a very high record for efficiency; Horace Hawes
was appointed district attorney, and Hall McAllister his
associate counsel. Mr. McAllister, who soon afterward
rose to the leadership of the California bar and maintained
it until his death, won his spurs in this the first sensational
lawsuit of his adopted city.

There was little difficulty, however, in proving these
wretches guilty. They were condemned to various
periods of imprisonment ; but as there was no prison in the
city, the authorities were forced to set them at liberty.
Their backbone was broken, however, and they feared
lynching. Many of them left the country, others returned
to the mines, where for the most part they were disposed of
by buzzards while dangling from trees "up the gulch."

As the treasury was empty and there was a crying need
for policemen, watchmen, and street-lighting, there was
another mass-meeting; and after a furious debate a law
was passed licensing the gambling-houses and imposing a
heavy tax upon them as the likeliest source of revenue.
Hundreds of gambling-houses were now flourishing, and
every hotel had its tables : faro, monte, roulette, rouge-et-
noir, vingt-et-un. Heavy taxes were also levied upon
real estate, auction sales, and licenses of all kinds. The
hulk of the brig Euphemia, then anchored at what is now
the corner of Jackson and Battery streets, was bought and
converted into a city prison. On August 31st a Baptist
church was dedicated; and other denominations, which
already had Sunday-schools, bestirred themselves to build
stable places of worship, if only to counteract the licensed
vice of the town. A little steamboat was sent out from
Boston, and new town lots were surveyed. The streets

148

CRIME AND FIRE

and Plaza were now almost constantly filled with a
changing throng, representing practically all the races of
the world, many in their native costumes: Chinamen,
Malays, Negroes, Abyssinians, Kanakas, Fiji-Islanders,
Japanese, Russians, Turks, Jews, Spaniards, Mexicans,
Peruvians, Chilenos, Englishmen, Italians, Frenchmen,
and Americans.

Among this vast motley crowd [says Sould] scarcely two men from
any state in the Union could be found dressed alike. . . . The long-
legged boot with every variety of colored top, the buckled-up trouserg,
scrapes, cloaks, pea-jackets, broad-brimmed slouch-hats and glazed
hats. ... On one if not three sides of the Plaza were the open doors of
the "hells" of San Francisco. On other portions stood hotels, stores,
and offices, the custom-house and courts of law. . . . The little open
space which was left to the crowds was occupied by a multitude of
nondescript objects, by horses, mules, and oxen dragging burdens
along, boys at play, stalls with sweetmeats, newspapers, prints, toys,
. . . occasionally even at this early period the crowd would make way
for the passage of a richly dressed woman, sweeping along, apparently
proud of being recognized as one of frail character, or several together
of the same class mounted on spirited horses dashing furiously by,
dressed in long riding-skirts pr, wjiat wag quite comnqon, male attire.

The average age of the men was twenty-five, and there
were few, if any, over thirty. These men when they came
in from the mines wore the usual red or blue flannel
shirt, top-boots almost concealing the trouser-leg, a heavy
leather belt in which two pistols and a knife were con-
spicuously displayed, and on their heads a silk hat. This
last, worn at all hours, was a sort of advertisement of its
proud possessor's good luck at the mines.

In that year of '49 there were few decent women in the
city, and no homes save those that had existed before the
discovery of gold. The women of commerce had followed
the invading army as ever, and those that did not go to
the mining-camps to share the golden harvest without toil

149

CALIFORNIA

presided over the gambling-rooms or were employed as
decoys for the restaurants and saloons. The young men
returning from the mines heavy laden, eager for new
excitements and any kind of civilization, sought the com-
pany of these women, there being none other to seek.
They paraded the streets with them by day, to the scandal
of the few but increasing number of decent and permanent
citizens, and crowded the gambling-rooms at night. San
Francisco at that time was a sort of crucible in which
human character became fluid, only the wildest and most
lawless impulses crystallizing on the surface. Perhaps
the htmian character never has been put to so severe a
test. Most of these, young men had been well brought up,
many would return, if they did return, to a social position
in their native town. But they were in a country almost
without law, with none of the restraining influences of
organized society, their brains reeling with sudden wealth
taken from the earth in the most romantic surroundings,
and further exhilarated by the electric air; all that was
primitive in them became rampant.

To characters naturally strong came the inevitable
reaction before harm had been done, and many of these
wild young men lived to become "leading citizens " in San
Francisco and elsewhere. But others formed habits never
to be broken, squandered all they had on worthless women
and in the gambling-halls, and either drifted whence they
came or hid themselves under the brush of the sand-
hills and blew out their brains. The mines themselves
were a relentless clearing-house. It required not only
physical strength but moral endurance to succeed greatly ;
and hundreds of miners, weakened by hardships and the
unsanitary conditions, and despairing of ever "striking it

CRIME AND FIRE

rich," crept back to the city to die of pneumonia, dysen-
tery, or by their own hand; unless they had saved the
price of the return voyage or could borrow it.

Only the clean tonic air of San Francisco saved it from
hideous epidemics, for its population grew daily, and most
of it was herded in bunk-houses made of lath and cotton,
or was camping in tents. The refuse was left in the streets ;
there was a garbage-heap at every door. As it was, there
were several light epidemics of cholera, and it is possible
that even the keen Pacific winds would not have saved the
city from sudden depopulation had not another element
come to the rescue. Within eighteen months San Fran-
cisco was almost burned to the ground six times. The
first of these fires occurred on December 4, 1849, and a
million dollars went up in flames, but with them a vast
amount of germ-breeding filth. On the 4th of May, 1850,
property was destroyed to the amount of four million
dollars. The greatest of these fires was on the 14th of
May, 185 1, in which twelve million dollars' worth of
business blocks and merchandise were consumed.

After each of these fires, almost before they were ex-
tinguished, the citizens began to rebuild with dauntless
courage and energy, and in spite of the cumulative effects
of disasters seeming to hint that Nature had not lost her
old spite against that coast of so many geological vicis-
situdes. But the final result was, that after the most
leveling fire in her history, not to be surpassed until
April, 1906, she erected the greater number of her hotels
and business houses of substantial materials and organ-
ized a proper water system; an improvement entirely
overlooked before. The indomitable spirit and enter-
prise of that day can be laid to the survival of the fittest,

CALIFORNIA

The times needed strong men, strong of body and brain,
and only the strong could survive in the face of unparal-
leled hardships, trials, temptations, and disasters. These
men, not all saints by any means, formed a nucleus which
enabled San Francisco itself to survive and become the
great city of the Western world.

It is to be remembered that although a year and a half
is a negligible period in an old community, every month is
a crowded year in such conditions as existed in San
Francisco during and immediately after the gold-rush.
Scarcely a day that men did not have their faculties and
characters tried to the limit of human endurance. The
strong men saw the weak falling on every side, dying like
flies, creepijig back from the mines unrecognizable wrecks
of the men that had struck the trail a few months before
with the insolent boast that they would sail for "the
States" with a million in their pockets before the year
was out. The men bom to survive spent their days in
keen business competition, money crises, and in a fever-
ish atmosphere whose temperature never seemed to drop;
their nights with one ear open for the horrid cry of fire and
the sharp clang of alarm-bells. At the first signal they
were out of bed, doctors, lawyers, merchants, politicians,
mechanics rushing to the engine-houses, of which the
greater number were enrolled members, thence to the hills
to watch a sea of flame roll over all they possessed. They
had their moments of despair, of wild excitement, hut out
of each succeeding conflagration they emerged more
finely tempered, more grimly determined that this city
of San Francisco should become as great a city as any
they had left behind, and their own fortunes rise from the
ashes seventy times seven if the Fates pursued them,

CRIME AND FIRE

When one remembers the character of these men and the
spirit with which they animated the'^city and stamped it,
one can the more easily understand the courage and
energies which astonished the world after the great
disaster of 1906.

But the sturdy citizens of San Francisco were not tested
by fire alone and the demoralizing atmosphere of the
times. No sooner had they disposed of the Hounds than
they became aware of a new menace to their security,
although these fresh additions to the young city's under-
world were difficult to locate. Taking warning from the
fate of the noisy and defiant Hoimds, these scoundrels did
not advertise themselves by a headquarters, nor did they
parade. A few of this new band of criminals were
Mexicans, but the greater number and by far the bolder
were released criminals and ticket-of-leave men from
Australia. At the end of 1849 a himdred thousand immi-
grants had poured into the territory. A similar number
arrived in 1850, advancing the population of San Fran-
cisco alone from five thousand to nearly thirty thousand.
Naturally, it was easy for criminals to slip in singly or in
hordes, for all claimed to be bound for the mines, which
were turning millions a month into the pockets of the
industrious, the persistent, and the lucky. The "Sidney
Coves," however, had no intention of working with pick
and shovel at the min^s; San Francisco was a gold-mine
itself.

The citizens, after their exercise of summary justice by
popular tribunal, had elected officers to keep the city in
order, and returned to their personal avocations. But
while the merchants, bankers, and other business men
snatched the city again and again from ruin by fire> finan-

IS3

CALIFORNIA

cial shipwreck, and the still greater menace of moral evil,
the judges, lawyers, and public officials in general were
no credit to the community. The Hall McAlHsters were
rare, and lawyers of the order of shyster and shark had
come to the new territory in droves, knowing that they
could establish themselves imnoticed and make as much
money with their dishonest wits as all but the luckiest
at the mines. These men could be bought by the enter-
prising members of the underworld with gold-dust and
promise of votes, and the human vultures that now infested
the city were able to conceal their individualities and their
dwelling-places from the citizens as long as they chose,
looting the town with such frequency and thoroughness
that every man went to business with a pistol in his belt
and slept with it under his pillow. Once more nobody
stirred abroad at night; and those that patronized the
gambling-rooms entered before dusk and remained imtil
daylight.

Where the Hounds had dared to kill upon one occasion
only, these desperados murdered nightly and often by
day, partly because it amused them, partly to cover their
tracks. The few police were terrorized and rarely inter-
fered with their adventures. They were more than sus-
pected of starting the fires that they might loot by whole-
sale, and they even raided the gambling-houses in broad
dayHght, filling their hats with the gold on the tables
and leaving a trail of blood behind them.

It is true that some were arrested, but their lawyers
were well paid and specious, and it was seldom that a
judge could be found to convict them. Theft, robbery,
burglary, murder were all in the day's work, and as
their contempt for law increased, a community of un-

154

CRIME AND FIRE

speakable wickedness and degradation called Sidney
Town flourished openly on the outskirts of the city at
Clark's Point. Its denizens seemed to increase with the
malignant velocity of locusts. The busy harried citizens
of the little community endured their outrages from the
end of '49 to the beginning of '51, hoping against hope
that the law would prove equal to its obligations and
leave the good men free to build and rebuild and attend
to their ever-increasing problems. But although the
San Franciscan is noted for his philosophy and his pa-
tience, he is equally distinguished for the sudden cessa-
tion of those virtues and for his grim and immovable
attitude when he has made up his mind to exterminate
and reconstruct.

Tlie citizens of San Francisco suddenly and without
warning "sat up" in June, 185 1, and formed the first
of the two famous Committees of Vigilance.

One hundred and eighty-four of the wealthiest, most
prominent, and, what was more to the point, as it meant
neglect of business, the most industrious and enterprising
of San Francisco's men formed themselves into a secret
Committee of Vigilance for the purpose of cleaning up
the city morally and restoring it to order. Although it
had been mooted for some time, it was not organized until
Jime, and then not until a desperate attempt had been
made to induce the proper authorities to enforce the law.
The patience of the general public being exhausted, there
had been daily mass-meetings, and indignation reached
its climax when two alleged murderers, an Englishman
named James Stuart and a confederate, Joseph Windred,
were taken to the City Hall for trial with little prospect
of conviction. Eight thousand citizens surrounded the

155

CALIFORNIA

building, clamoring for justice. Fourteen of their num-
ber— W. D. M. Howard, Samuel Brannan, A. J. Ellis,
H. P. Teschemacker, W. H. Jones, B. Ray, G. A. King,
A. H. Sibley, J. L. Folsom, F. W. Macondray, Ralph
Dorr, Theodore Pajme, Talbot H. Green, and J. B. Huie —
were appointed a committee to consult with the authori-
ties and guard the prisoners from public wrath until
they should be tried. The situation may be indicated
by the brief speech made by Mr. Brannan to the more
conservative of the committeemen:

I am very much surprised to hear people talk about grand juries,
recorders, or mayors. I'm tired of such talk. These men are mur-
derers, I say, as well as thieves. I know it, and I will die or see them
hung by the neck. I'm opposed to any farce in this business. We
had enough of that eighteen months ago, when we allowed ourselves
to be the tools of those judges who sentenced convicts to be sent to
the United States. We are the mayor and the recorder, the hangman
and the law. The laws and the courts never yet hung a man in Cali-
fornia, and every morning we are reading fresh accounts of murders
and robberies. I want no technicalities. Such things are devised
to shield the guilty.

But moderation prevailed for the moment. After an-
other appeal to the assembled people it was decided to
choose a jury from their number, as well as a sheriff,
judges, a clerk, and a public prosecutor. Men of the high-
est standing were immediately elected for these offices:
William T. Coleman, prosecuting attorney; Hall McAl-
lister and D. O. Shattuck, counsel for the prisoners;
J. R. Spence, presiding judge; H. R. Bowie and Charles
L. Ross, associate judges; John E. Townes, sheriff; and
W. A. Jones, clerk. While the whole town was still in
an uproar the two prisoners were tried and defended,
but the jury disagreed, and in spite of the shouts of
"Hang them! Hang them!" from without, "The ma-

J56

CRIME AND FIRE

jority rules!" they were handed over to the authorities
to be tried in due legal form. The result Was what no
doubt even those stem but still patient men may have
expected : Windred, who was sentenced to fourteen years'
imprisonment^ found no difficulty in cutting his way out
of jail and escaping; and Stuart (who turned out to be
the wrong man and innocent) was sent to Marysville to
stdnd his trial for murder.

It was then that patience ceased to be a virtue and the
Vigilance Committee was organized.

They chose as headquarters rooms on the fcornfer of
Battery and Pine streets. The Monimiental Fire Com-
pany was to toll the bell (instead of ringing it wildly, as
for fires) as a signal for the committee to meet and try
a prisoner. It was on the night of the ibth of June that
the bell tolled for the first time ; and its deep solemn note
filled the city. Thousands of citizens who had the
merest inkHng of what was on foot tumbled out of their
houses and gathered in the street before the lighted room
to await the verdict, for they sOon learned that a prisoner,
John Jenkins, a "Sidney Cove," was t>n trial for his lif6.

The proceedings within were thorough but brief. At
midnight the bell tolled again as a signal that the death-
sentence had been passed and that the execution would
take place at once. Mr. Brannan came out and addressed
the crowd, telling them what had been done, that all
evidence had been sifted, and asking their opinion of the
verdict. The crowd expressed its unanimous approval iti
a shout which drowned the slow clanging of the bell. A
clergyman went in to talk to the condemned man, and at
two o'clock Jetikins was brought out, closely pinioned and
surrounded by the members of the committee, who Wei-e

157

CALIFORNIA

armed to the teeth. The waiting crowd silently fell into
line behind and marched through Sansome, CaHfomia,
Montgomery, and Clay streets to the Plaza. The noose
was adjusted and the other end thrown over a beam
projecting from an adobe house. Scarcely a word was
spoken, but many hands volimteered at the rope imtil the
wretch's struggles ceased. The man was one of the most
notorious of the desperados infesting the city, but had he
been obscure it is doubtful if "the law" would have taken
more than a perfimctory notice of this act of summary
justice, being now fully aware that the majority of San
Francisco's population was on the side of the Vigilantes.

The committee then emerged from its secrecy, published
its roll of names in full, and, invoking an old Mexican law
which forbade the immigration of any person convicted
of crime in another country, ordered the Cove population
to leave California at once. Some were shipped off;
others, terrified by the fate of Jenkins, fled without
further invitation.

Meanwhile the Committee of Vigilance had fotmd the
true James Stuart and ordered the miserable creature
shivering in the Marysville jail to be set at liberty. Of
all the villains of that day Stuart seems to have been dyed
with the darkest and most indelible pigment. He had
begun his career of crime at the age of sixteen and omitted
none in the calendar. When, staring down at those rows
of determined men, with their set grim faces, and at the
armed body-guard against the walls, at the doors, and on
the stairs, he realized that the game was up he deter-
mined to retire from the world in a blaze of glory, and told
of his hundred crimes vividly and in horrid detail. After
he had finished he was given two hours for repentance.

158

CRIME AND FIRE

At the end of that time the big bell tolled; manacled and
siuTOimded by drawn pistols to prevent any attempt at
rescue, he was escorted to the wharf at the foot of Market
Street and hanged.

At this point the governor, John McDougal, although
secretly in S5mipathy with the committee, felt that he
must make a show of upholding the law, and when it was
known that two other prisoners had been taken to the
rooms on Battery Street he counseled the sheriff to rescue
them and take them to the official lockup. The sheriff
effected the rescue by a coup; but immediately the bell
tolled, and the committee hastened to their headquarters.
A few hours afterward they broke into the jail, brushed
aside the guards, and hurried the prisoners into a coach. A
whip was freely applied to the horses, which galloped down
to Battery Street, while the bell tolled the annoimcement
that the men, Whittaker and McKenzie, were about to die.
The crowd ran after the carriage, but when they reached
the place of execution the two bodies, hooded and pinioned,
were swinging in the air.

After this no further attempt was made to interfere
with the committee, but neither were they called upon to
execute further vengeance. Those of the Coves that had
dared to linger on fled like rats, and for a while the city
had a complete rest from crime, although seldom from
excitement.

It was now a substantial-looking city, with real hotels
and solid houses in place of shacks and tents; a hospital,
a mercantile Hbrary, a cemetery (for a time the dead had
been buried where they fell and often sickened in the
streets), churches, brick and granite business buildings, and
an orderly population — for a time. The better class no
11 159

CALIFORNIA

longer gambled in public or attended bull-fights at the
mission ; and although the city was still unpaved and the
rats ran over the citizens' feet as they floundered through
the mud at night, and the prices remained so high that
the San Franciscans of the '50's would have laughed to
scorn the complaints of to-day, at least the proud citizens
could go unarmed once more and enjoy the knowledge
that their belongings were their own and that there was a
reasonable prospect of dying in bed.

The population of California at the close of 1853 was
estimated at 326,000, of whom 204,000 were Americans,
30,000 Germans, 28,000 French, 20,000 Hispano-Amer-
icans, other foreigners of white extraction 5,000, Chinese
17,000, Indians 30,000, Negroes 2,000. Of this number
one hundred thousand were supposed to be working
miners, the others forming the population of the towns
and rural communities. The population of San Francisco
was fifty thousand, thirty- two thousand of whom were
Americans. By this time the metropolis boasted about
eight thousand women, good, bad, and indifferent. Three
hundred children, many of them the abandoned offspring
of the criminal class, had wandered into a town which had
little welcome for the unprotected. In 185 1 my grand-
father, Stephen Franklin, assisted by several ladies of the
different churches, succeeded in founding an orphan-
asylum, and gathered up such of the waifs as had sur-
vived neglect or had not gasped out their feeble lives,
abandoned among the sand-hills.

There were fifteen fire-companies in this ambitious but
inflammable city, which now had nearly two hundred and
fifty streets and alleys, two public squares, sixteen hotels,
sixty-three bakeries, five public markets, twenty bathing-

160

CRIME AND FIRE

establishments, fifteen flour and saw mills, thirteen foun-
dries and iron-works, nineteen banking-firms, eighteen
public stables, ten public schools with twenty-one teach-
ers and 1,259 scholars, besides private schools, eighteen
churches with 8,000 members, six military companies
with 350 members in all, two government hospitals and
one private one, an almshouse, eight lodges of secret be-
nevolent societies, a fine law library, two himdred attor-
neys, four public benevolent societies, twelve newspapers,
a Philharmonic Society, five theaters, two race-courses,
several lecture - halls, twelve large wharves, forty -two
wholesale liquor houses, and five hundred and thirty-
seven saloons. It was now five years since the great
immigration had given a fresh impulse to the once serene
little city, and it had lived at the rate of fifty. It cov-
ered three square miles, and its real estate was valued at
thirty-eight million dollars. Since it had risen from the
ashes of the last fire in 185 1 it had begun to feel more
like a veritable city, not quite like other cities perhaps,
but still one of which its indomitable and sorely tried
founders could well be proud. After its sweeping clean-
up it breathed freely for almost three years ; but although
it had few delusions about the permanence of good con-
duct in that town of many nationalities and temptations,
nothing was further from its mind than tolling the bell
for another Committee of Vigilance.

But before describing those tragic and far-reaching
events whicl. led to the organization of the most formi-
dable public tribunal in the history of modem civilization
it is necessary to devote a chapter to the politics of the
state from the time of the American occupation, in 1846,
until the assassination of James King of Wm.

POLITICS

The military governors of California immediately fol-
lowing the occupation were Sloat, Stockton, Kearney,
Mason, and Riley. On April 13, 1849, Brig.-Gen. Ben-
nett Riley, upon his arrival in California, annoimced
that he had assumed the administration of the civil
affairs of California. He foimd a territory seething
with political problems in no wise obscured by the ex-
citement of the gold discovery.

Congress had provided no territorial government for
its new possession on the Pacific coast, although the treaty
with Mexico had been ratified in May of the previous
year. It was not long before the anxious and indignant
Califomians, their need of definite laws increasing daily,
learned the reason. The two great parties in Congress
had locked horns over the question of the introduction
of slavery into the vast territory extending to the Rocky
Mountains and known as CaHfomia. The South had
advocated the annexation of Texas and the Mexican War
solely in the hope of increasing its own strength. Con-
gress being equally divided on the slave question.

President Polk in his message of December 5, 1848,
had pointed out that California with its abnormal con-
ditions demanded the immediate organization of a terri-
torial government. Its inhabitants, already numbering

162

POLITICS

many hundreds of Americans, were entitled to the pro-
tection of the laws and Constitution of the United States,
and yet were left without any provision according them
their rights. It was true that the very Hmited power of
the executive had been exercised to preserve and protect
them from anarchy; but the only government in the
country was that estabUshed by the military authority.
In other words, California had a mere de facto govern-
ment— ^resting on the presumed consent of the inhabi-
tants— consisting of nine parts military authority and
the rest such efforts as minor officials might make to in-
sure peace by the enforcement of the old Mexican ma-
chinery. The Americans in California had accepted this
condition on the understanding that Congress, immedi-
ately upon the consummation of the treaty with Mexico,
would legislate a legal and authoritative government.
New-comers and old cherished nothing but contempt for
the rusty and inadequate Mexican laws, and they liked
the undemocratic military rule no better. As time
passed and no relief came from Washington they grew
more and more indignant, holding mass-meetings all
over the state, save at the gold-mines, which preferred
their own laws.

All that Washington had done at the beginning of
1849 was to extend the revenue laws over the new terri-
tory, making San Francisco a port of entry, and Monterey,
San Diego, and what was called later Fort Yuma, ports
of delivery; authorize the President to appoint a col-
lector of customs, and provide a complete revenue
system; appoint William van Voorhies agent for the
establishment of post-offices and the transmission of
mails throughout the territory; and, in January, to ap-

163

CALIFORNIA

point a commission under John B. Weller to run and
mark the boimdary hne between Mexico and the United
States. At the end of the Polk administration, in March,
1849, with the free and slave states equal nimierically,
it looked as if California might precipitate the death-
struggle between the North and the South.

There were already many able men in California apart
from the hardy pioneers seeking fortune at the mines; men
of brains, education, political experience, executive ability,
and sense of public responsibility. Some of the men —
Sutter, Leese, Howard, Pacificus Ord, Walter Colton,
Larkin, Hartnell, Semple, Brannan, Don Timeteo Mur-
phy, Josiah Belden, first mayor of San Jose — had
lived in the country for many years before the dis-
covery of gold. A few were native Califomians — Valle-
jo, Pablo de la Guerra (son of the redoubtable old Don
Jose), Romualdo Pacheco, Carrillo, Covarrubias. But the
ablest by far were William Gwin and David Broderick,
two men who had come to the future great state to gratify
their political ambitions more quickly than was possible
in older communities, and share in its spectacular oppor-
tunities. Gwin was from Tennessee, a gentleman by
birth, upon whom fortune continued to smile until the
Civil War, a man of wide experience in politics, and,
what was rare for that day, of considerable personal ex-
perience of Europe. He also had had adventures enough
to harden him for the r61e of pioneer. He may be ranked
as the most intellectual, brilliant, subtle, suave, and im-
scrupulous leader California has ever had. His one
rival was Broderick, an Irish-American, a stone-mason's
son, who had been a fireman and ward politician in New
York. His native abilities were as great as, if not greater

164

POLITICS

than, Mr. Gwin's, but he had had Httle education and at
that time was rough in dress and manner. But there was
no poUtical trick he did not know, nor had he the least
scruple in using the basest henchmen to accomplish his
ends. But he was a man in whom good predominated
outside of politics, as will be seen ; and he possessed, and
gradually developed, real greatness. Both men were
Democrats, but Gwin was proslavery, Broderick violently
opposed to it and determined that it should never be in-
troduced into California. He was twenty-nine years old
at this time, Gwin forty-four — so advanced an age in
that era of young men that he was always mentioned as
"old Gwin." He was a very handsome man, however,
tall, stately, smooth-shaven, patrician. Broderick, it
must be confessed, looked like a chimpanzee; his upper
lip was abnormally long, and his face fringed from ear
to ear, but he was quite as impressive in his way as
Mr. Gwin, and had a cold blue-gray eye of extraordinary-
penetration and power.

Fremont also had come back to California to play a
political r61e in the territory so romantically associated
with his name, but his California career was practically at
an end. Other men to figure in the history of the state
and of San Francisco particularly were William T. Cole-
man, Horace Hawes, Eugene Casserly, Hall McAllister,
Peter Burnett, John McDougal, Thomas B. King, James
King of Wm., Joseph H. Folsom, John W. Geary, Theo-
dore Payne, and a future chief justice of the United States,
Stephen J. Field, at that time identified with Marysville.

These men were not tempted, or but briefly, by the
mines. They recognized their own mental abilities as
well as the future greatness of California; but they were

165

CALIFORNIA

appalled by the conditions bordering on chaos, and they
had asked Governor Mason to call a constitutional con-
vention. But although Mason was the best and most
sympathetic of the military governors, he was a cool and
wary officer and felt no disposition toward so radical a
measure. Before his administration came to an end,
however, he was convinced that California in the absence
of protection from Washington and with a vast and
increasing number of problems, must do something for
herself, and advised his successor, General Riley, to call
the convention.

Riley demurred and hesitated, but when he learned that
once more Congress had adjourned without organizing a
territorial government for California he issued a proclama-
tion to the effect that it was necessary to call a constitu-
tional convention, and appointed August ist as election
day for delegates. These elections caused great excite-
ment all over the territory, but most of the men who
wished to be delegates and had organized their forces
properly were sent to Monterey. It was, on the whole, a
notable gathering, and among the thirty-seven delegates
were many of the men already mentioned. The conven-
tion met in Colton Hall, Monterey, on September ist, and
lasted until the middle of October. There was no ques-
tion from the beginning of a practically universal senti-
ment against the introduction of slavery into the territory;
and Gwin, too wise ever to advocate a lost cause openly,
strove to preserve the territorial boimdaries of the cession,
which embraced the present Nevada, Utah, and Arizona,
and foist it upon Congress for admission into the Union
as one vast state. Inevitably it would fall to pieces of its
own weight, and it would then be an easy matter not only

i66

POLITICS

to deliver portions of it to the Southern faction, but to
separate southern California from the north and capture
it for slavery. The native Califomians, who were already-
disgusted and alarmed, favored the division at once, but
the whole scheme, subtle and open, was defeated. North-
ern men were on the watch for every move of the enemy,
and the Americans of the intermediate period in Cali-
fornia were determined upon a compact state between the
Sierra Nevada Mountains and the Pacific Ocean.

The state constitution, closely following that of the
state of New York, was drawn up finally, and in No-
vember submitted to the people. They adopted it
promptly, and Peter H. Burnett was elected governor,
John McDougal lieutenant-governor, Edward Gilbert and
George W. Wright Representatives to Congress. On
Saturday, December 15th, the first legislature imder the
constitution met at San Jose, and Gwin and Fremont were
elected United States Senators; but Fremont drew the
short term and enjoyed the coveted honor for only six
months.

When the Senators and Representatives arrived in
Washington the fight over the admission of CaHfornia
was at white-heat. Clay, curiously enough, advocated it
without the slave clause, and Webster refused to vote for
the prohibition, "as California was destined for freedom,
and he would not take the pains to reaffirm an ordinance
of nattu-e or re-enact the will of God!" Calhoun, on the
other hand, expended his dying energy in denouncing the
Califomians for daring to make a state without the con-
sent of Congress, insisted that it should be remanded
back to its old condition, as its admission would irretriev-
ably destroy the equilibrium between the two national

167

CALIFORNIA

sections. Having exhausted their thunder, they put the
momentous question to the vote; and in August, 1850, the
bill providing for the admission of California as a state
passed the Senate, all members from free states and six
from slave states voting in its favor. On September 19,
1850, President Fillmore signed the bill, and California
became the thirty-first state of the Union.

When the news made its slow way to the Pacific coast
there was ringing of bells in San Francisco, and, in all the
towns of the state, bonfires, balls, and general rejoicing.
One great question was settled for all time, and the new
constitution had given them the laws of an old and highly
civilized state. But the laws proved to be more civilized
than the inhabitants. As we have seen, the responsible
citizens of San Francisco had twice been obliged to take
the law into their own hands; and this was done again
and again at the mines.

A community large enough for the making of money
in more than living quantities would seem to be much
like the human body afflicted with certain microbous
diseases: the germs can be frozen out or dried out by
change of climate and drastic measures, but when vigil-
ance is relaxed they swarm back to devour the body or
the body politic. If it were not for this eternal warfare
between good and evil life would be dull enough, no
doubt, and anathema to the reformers; but it is certainly
a remarkable fact that with advancing civilization there
is little or no diminution of the number and prowess of
the forces of evil. As quickly as the surgeon's knife is
applied to one spot and the world triumphantly informed
that this particular abuse is gone for ever, the same malig-
liant elements rooted in human nature break out in an-

168

POLITICS

other spot, are called by another name, and eat their
vile way until once more they are cut from the surface
and forced to burrow toward a new pasture. In other
words, the good men (or the better) go to sleep after a
grand display of all their latent forces, and the bad men
(who have enjoyed a rest and recuperated) move silently
to the fore.

In a young community like San Francisco, which had
skipped the intermediate stages of growth and developed
abruptly from an almost innocent and quite contented
childhood to a raging, crude, and heterogeneous ma-
turity, life was a matter of extremes. Men grew rich in a
month by the inflation of prices and lost all in the reac-
tion after a wild period of speculation; they were upright
patriotic citizens, behaving themselves astonishingly well,
considering the atmosphere in which they lived, or they
were disreputable gamblers, pimps, and outlaws. All
classes and kinds had but one thing in common — they
were as extravagant as if the very sand-dunes behind
the ugly uncomfortable little city were composed of grains
of gold and would be renewed until the end of time.
Wives and daughters had been sent for before the fifties
were well advanced, and they dressed quite as brilliantly
as the ladies of the lower ten thousand; many private
carriages looked singularly out of place in those uneven
streets fringed with garbage; there were nightly balls,
and the theaters were crowded whenever artists found
the way to that remote coast. In that feverish unreal
life the domestic settled existence of older communities
was almost unknown; business, politics, and the ever-
increasing problems of the town, furnished a constant
excitement for the men, who preferred to spend their

169

CALIFORNIA

evenings in the private rooms of public resorts discussing
ways and means. The women had to find excitement
for themselves; and the consequence was many divorces.
In fact, imless a woman had young children to ab-
sorb her, or abnormally high principles, or some inner
capital, flirtation was practically the only distraction in
that new community absolutely without the common
resources of civilization. It was for that reason that
when such natural social leaders as Mrs. Hall McAllister,
Mrs. Gwin, and other Southern women did take hold
and organize society, their laws were more stringent than
anything they had left behind them. Women who would
remain members of that select band must at least exer-
cise prudence in their indiscretions ; and although no one
in that gossiping community was free from slander, if
sufficiently prominent, at least there was a high standard,
and this standard existed until almost the present time.

But these women numbered himdreds, and the women
of commerce swarmed into San Francisco by the thou-
sand and paraded the streets constantly, bolder than
they have ever dared to be since — although any woman
in a crinoline and a coal-scuttle bonnet must have found
some difficulty in making herself look bold and unclassed
— and these, besides being the decoys for the gambling-
houses, saloons, and restaurants, furnished cause for
many of the divorces.

And as for the underworld, it might flee the immediate
wrath, but it invariably crept back — unless lynched — and
was augmented by villains of a new dye. After the sup-
pression of lawlessness in 185 1 the citizens had much to oc-
cupy their attention for several years. Until 1854 money
came freely, people seemed to grow richer every day. As

170

POLITICS

a natural result they became intoxicated with prosperity
and over-built, over-speculated, over-imported, and spent
with mad extravagance. In 1854 came the inevitable re-
action, which was precipitated by a dry winter and crop
failures, the ruinous speculation and even dishonesty of
business men and bankers, the looting of the city treasury
by officials. In 1854 three hundred out of a thousand
business houses failed, and in the course of the year there
were filed in the courts seventy-seven petitions of in-
solvency, aggregating many millions of dollars. In the
following year the insolvencies numbered one hundred
and ninety - seven, and several banking-houses failed,
crippling or ruining outright a large number of depositors
and business firms.

It may be imagined that during this stormy period
the excitement was greater than ever before, men were
more individual and self -centered in their interests. This
was the opportunity for thousands of human buzzards,
and they swarmed in, fattening on prosperity and ruin
alike.

By far the most devastating of these to the distracted
city were the professional politicians, men of the lowest
type, who had been educated in the wards of the Eastern
cities, and whose sole attitude to the world was that of
the looter in search of loot. Either finding it expedient
to vanish from their native haunts, or scenting heavier
dividends in vice, they came to the new city by every
ship; and while its citizens were using all their energies,
first in aggrandizement and pleasiire and then to keep
their imseaworthy ship above the storm waters, they
quietly took political possession.

Honest men, in fact, learned to avoid the polls, gangs

171

CALIFORNIA

of bullies being on hand to relieve the political organiza-
tion from the embarrassment of honest men's votes.
Conventions were a mere matter of form, the inner ring
having made its decisions in secret conclave; votes were
sold to the highest bidder, ballot-boxes were stiiffed, the
type in vogue having a "double improved back action,"
and in which any number of tickets could be hidden in
advance : there was always danger that a few honest men
might get by the bullies and cast their vote.

As this gang of clever rascals appointed all the officials
it followed that the judges were as corrupt as most of the
lawyers, and their social status may be inferred by the
fact that they chewed and expectorated in court, sat on
the bench in their shirt-sleeves, swore and shouted, and
even cut their corns.

The people of the better class of San Francisco were well
aware that their city was worm-eaten and threatened with
decay, but, absorbed in personal matters, were unwilling
to face the fact and unite in a tribunal which must mean
the neglect of business for several months at least. Be-
tween 1849 and 1856 over a thousand miu-ders had been
committed, and only one legal conviction secured. The
lawsuits following the failures of 1854-55 had revealed
the utterly corrupt state of the law. No one was con-
victed, no one could obtain satisfaction ; the lawyers were
masters of every technicality that permitted evasion or
defeat of justice; lawsuits threatened to outlast a life-
time, and an apathetic despair, which may be compared
to the proverbial lull, settled upon the citizens of San
Francisco, half or wholly ruined, as they watched pros-
perity ebbing daily; politics and law in the hands of
crooks and criminals; and thieves, looters, and murderers

172

POLITICS

as thick as the fleas in the sand. Even the newspapers
were terrorized ; and although the editors had many duels,
they were not with the men they most feared.

The times were ripe for the man, and, as ever, he
arrived.

XII

JAMES KING OF WM.

Of all the personalities that stand out so compell-
ingly in the annals of that formative period of San
Francisco James King of Wm. is the most appealing.
Gifted with a brilliant mind, an upright character, an
honest and generous heart, no one ever developed a more
passionate scorn of corruption and love of civic decencies,
no one ever was less discouraged by the remonstrances
of timid men and the threats of the powerful and un-
scrupulous. Single-handed this dauntless little gentleman
undertook to clean up San Francisco. He accomplished
his end far sooner than he anticipated, but with his life,
not his pen.

James King of Wm. was bom in Georgetown, D. C,
January 28, 1822. When he was sixteen, finding another
James King in his immediate circle, he affixed his father's
patronymic, and to the day of his death was rarely alluded
to more briefly.

He married in 1843, worked too hard in the banking-
house of Corcoran & Riggs, in Washington, broke down
early in 1848, visited Peru and Chili with the view of en-
gaging in business, but heard of the gold discovery in Cali-
fornia and sailed at once for San Francisco. He was not
strong enough for the hard physical work and exposure at
the mines, however, and after a few months of indifferent

174

JAMES KING OF WM.

luck went to Sacramento and obtained a position in the
mercantile firm of Hensley, Reading & Co. His abilities
seem to have been recognized at once, for he was made a
partner in the same year. In the following year, however,
he opened a banking-house in San Francisco in partner-
ship with Jacob B. Snyder; the firm was called James
King of Wm. & Co. His family now joined him, and for a
time his home was one of the conspicuous centers of hos-
pitality, refinement, and luxury, where the talk was as
sparkling as the wines. But this brilliant social episode
lasted less than four years. In June, 1854, his associates
having involved him by speculations, he merged his firm
with that of Adams & Co., and went down to disaster
with that house in the panic of 1855. He surrendered to
his creditors everything he possessed, and in order to
explain to an excited public his connection with the out-
rageous frauds of Adams & Co., which he had been unaware
of before the merger and powerless to arrest later, he
Wrote a number of pamphlets and newspaper articles.
The style of these — brilliant, forcible, and direct — arrested
immediate attention ; and as it was known that he wished
to edit a newspaper, the money was raised at once. On
October 8, 1855, he issued the first number of the Daily
Evening Bulletin, a newspaper that again and again has
played its part in the history of the state.

By this time James King of Wm. was as well known to
his fellow-citizens, good and bad, as a pronounced individu-
ality ever must be in a small community. His honor, in
spite of his unfortunate association with Adams & Co.,
was unchallenged; he never had hesitated to express his
opinion openly of the civic and individual corruptions of
San Francisco and to suggest remedies; hot-tempered

12 17s

CALIFORNIA

and argumentative, he had refused to fight when challenged
to a duel, but no one thought of questioning his personal
courage. When he declined, however, he added that,
while he was opposed on principle to dueling, and had a
family to consider, he went armed and certainly shotild
defend himself if assaulted.

Therefore when the public heard that King was about
to edit a paper of his own they were far more interested
than was usual in that day of many and hapless journalistic
ventures. It knew that his paper would be interesting,
virile, a new departure, and that it would be as fearless
as himself, waging relentless war upon the forces of evil
that were devastating the city. In short, lively times
were anticipated, and no one was disappointed.

He began with light satiric fencing; but in the fourth
issue he took off his gloves. Certain banking-firms, alive
and defunct, were shown up in all their rottenness. No
other paper had dared to attack them — Sam Braiman
had retired from journalism and Mormonism long since,
and was now engaged in becoming a millionaire — but
when King had finished his exposures, written as they
were by one who had grown up in the banking business,
the most friendly, indifferent, and doubting were con-
vinced. He next paid his respects to Broderick, whom
he called David Cataline Broderick, accusing him of the
most flagrant election frauds, of striving by corrupt means
only to get himself elected United States Senator, and of
complicity in the Jenny Lind Theater swindle, one of the
financial disasters of the moment. He finished one of
his attacks with a sentence that may have sealed his fate;
for, although Broderick himself was above compassing
the death of any man save in fair fight, the evil forces of

176

JAMES KING OF WM.

the city were growing more uneasy and angry with every
issue of the Bulletin.

"We have every confidence," wrote King, "that the
people will stand by us in this contest ; and if we can only
escape David C. Broderick's hired bullies a little while
longer we will turn this city inside out, but we will expose
the corruption and malfeasance of her officiary."

But, although threatened and challenged, no attempt
was made upon his life for a time, and he attacked every
man and every institution given to corrupt practices,
paying particular attention to the large gambling-houses
(whose advertisements kept most of the newspapers
going) and other traps for the weak and unwary. It is
unnecessary to add that an attempt was made to muzzle
him, by the offer of large and remunerative advertise-
ments, from the most notorious of these concerns, and
that he paid as little attention to them as to threats and
black looks. Nor had he any hesitation in showing up
the other newspapers.

Even the strongest and most upright among his friends
were aghast and uneasy; in the whole history of journal-
ism no editor had ever gone as far as this. But he was
quite justified in anticipating public support. Everybody
bought the Bulletin — ^those that hoped it would air the evils
of the city and probe its sores until the disease had disap-
peared, and those that execrated it yet were afflicted with
a morbid desire to read what might be written about
themselves or their friends. By the end of the year its
circulation was larger than that of all the other news-
papers combined, and none had ever compared with it
in swaying public opinion. While undeniably sensa-
tional, it was not vulgar nor blatant, and it was invariably

177

CALIFORNIA

well written and interesting. Above all, it furnished at
last what m^ny had long more or less vaguely desired —
a rallying-point toward which all the decent element in
the city could converge for purposes of organization.

But still nothing happened. All that he exposed was
known or suspected already, and until some fresh enor-
mity occurred it hardly would be possible for King to
hasten those converging but lagging footsteps into a dead
run. He knew that such an opportunity must come; and
come it did, long before the public had time to tire of his
exposure of well-known abuses against which the laws
were powerless.

In less than six weeks after the first issue of the Bul-
letin, and while little else was discussed but the topics
it furnished daily, and the people were in just the right
frame of mind to burst into frenzy upon provocation,
United States Marshal William H. Richardson was mur-
dered by a notorious gambler named Charles Cora. The
two men drank more than their tempers could stand in
a saloon, got into an altercation, and left the place still
wrangling. Richardson, it is assumed, had attacked the
system of ballot-box stuffing, in which Cora was a con-
spicuous expert. When the two men reached the neigh-
borhood of California and Leidersdorff streets they paused
suddenly, and a bystander saw Cora grasp the collar of
Richardson's coat and point a pistol at his breast. Rich-
ardson, who had his hands in his pockets, exclaimed:
"You would not shoot me, would you? I am not armed."
Before any one seems to have been able or disposed to
go to the rescue Cora had fired and shot him dead.

This man, of uncertain nationality, was a well-known
figure about town, being good-looking, young, well

178

JAMES KING OF WM.

dressed, always to be seen on Kearney and Montgomery
streets at the promenade hours, in the fashionable res-
taurants, and, during San Francisco's madder hours, in
one or other of the great gambling-houses. He also
walked the fashionable thoroughfares openly with the
most famous woman of commerce in the town, Belle
Cora, who had impudently assumed his name in exchange
for the funds that gratified his exquisite tastes, when luck
failed him at the tables. When the news flew through the
city that an upright citizen and servant of the Federal
government whose only weakness was the one most easily
excused in mining communities had been murdered in
cold blood by a creature whom all decent men regarded
with abhorrence as a maquereau, to say nothing of his
degraded life in all respects, there was immediate and in-
tense excitement. Cries of "Lynch him!" resounded
from the crowds that filled the principal streets in less
than half an hour; men already inflamed by King's daily
Exposures were in no mood to endure philosophically the
thought that this man Cora could command all the cor-
rupt machinery of the law in his defense.

Cora had been hurried off to jail and locked up under
a heavy guard ; but, although the city that night held its
breath as the old tocsin of the California Engine Com-
pany's No. 4 bell tolled suddenly and imperatively, and
although many of the Vigilantes of 1851 promptly an-
swered the call — the first being the fiery Sam Brannan —
it was decided after several hours of debate to give the
law one last opportunity to redeem itself.

On Monday the coroner's inquest pronounced that the
murder had been premeditated and without a mitigating
circumstance. No other verdict was possible without

179

CALIFORNIA

housing the town to frenzy, and a few hoped for a real
trial and conviction. But not James King of Wm.

That no effort will be spared to get Cora clear [he wrote in the Bulle-
tin] begins now to be apparent. His friends are already at work.
Forty thousand dollars, it is said, have been subscribed for the purpose.
Of this some five thousand will be sufficient to cover the lawyers' fees
and court charges, and the balance can be used as occasion may re-
quire. One bad man on the jury will be sufficient to prevent an agree-
ment. Look well to the jury! . . . What we propose is this: If the
jury which tries Cora is packed either hang the sheriff or drive him out
of town. ... If Mr. Sheriff Scannell does not remove Billy Mulligan
from his present post as keeper of the county jail, and Mulligan lets
his friend Cora escape, hang Billy Mulligan, or drive him into banish-
ment. That's the word! . . . Oh, Heaven, it is a mortification to every
lover of decency and order in and out of San Francisco, to think that
the sheriff of this county is an ex-keeper of a gambling-hell ; that his
deputy, who acts as keeper of the county jail, is the notorious Billy
Mulligan, the late "capper" at a "string game" table.

Belle Cora had retained several lawyers more eminent
for brains and legal ability than bitter virtue. When they
discovered that the smoldering virtue of the citizens was
aroused and growing a hotter white every instant they
tried to withdraw, particularly Col. E. D. Baker, who
was really an estimable person, and who distinguished
himself later in the Civil War. But San Francisco was a
motley city where abilities of some sort were necessary to
pre-eminence, and Belle Cora was not queen of the night
life for nothing. She held her lawyers to their bargain —
they had accepted heavy retainers — and they were obliged
to make their appearance in court with their client, who
was got up like a hero of melodrama. He wore a gorgeous
waistcoat, light gloves, a new suit of pale material, a
jaimty overcoat; his mustache was little and black, and
he lolled with the gambler's air of well-bred indifference.
The insolent bearing of this creature, fresh from a wanton

i8o

JAMES KING OF WM.

murder, caused every one that saw him to hiss, and the
crowd in the court-room was with difficulty kept in order.

Colonel Baker was one of the chief exponents of th'i
inflamed oratory of the day, and, being trapped by a
woman cleverer than himself, made up his mind to save
the murderer if words could do it. His closing speech
was a masterpiece, judging it by the standards of the
time; and, carried away by his own eloquence, he sud-
denly held up Belle Cora as a model for all men to admire ;
picturing her as wronged, mistmder stood, unfortimate,
yea, but admirable. Her devotion to her lover redeemed
her of frailty in the eyes of all men, particularly of himself,
and he almost wept as he paid her his tribute. This
speech enraged the public, but it served its purpose with
the jury, which, "fixed " beforehand, could plead that it had
been convinced by the great lawyer's eloquence, and that
the defendant had been actuated by the highest motives
in killing a marshal of the United States for objecting to
the stuffing of ballot-boxes. After being out for twenty-
four hours it failed to agree; in other words, the seven
men that were above being "fixed," voted for murder, one
for manslaughter, and four for acquittal.

The Bulletin rushed out an extra invoking the heavens
to drape themselves in black.

The money of the gambler and the prostitute has succeeded, and
Cora has another respite. The jury cannot agree and has been dis-
charged. Will Cora be hung by the officers of the law? No. Even
on this trial one of the principal witnesses was away, having sold out
his establishment for twenty-four hundred dollars and left the state.
It is said that another trial cannot be had this term, and by that
time where will the other witnesses be? Rejoice ye gamblers and
harlots ! Rejoice with an exceeding gladness ! Assemble in your dens
of infamy to-night, let the costly wine flow, let the welkin ring with
your shouts of joy. Your triumph is great — oh, how you have

?8;

CALIFORNIA

triumphed! Triumphed over everything that is holy and virtuous
and good; and triumphed legally — yes, legally! Your money can
accomplish anything in San Francisco, and now you have full per-
mission to run riot at pleasure. Talk of safety in the law? It is a
humbug. . . . Rail at the Vigilance Committee and call it an illegal
tribunal? What scoundrel lost his life by their action who did not
richly deserve it ? Many complain of vigilance committees and
say we should leave criminals to be dealt with by the law. Dealt
with by the law indeed! How dealt with? Allowed to escape when
ninety-nine men out of a hundred believe the prisoner to be guilty
of murder? Is not this very course calculated to drive an exasperated
people to madness, and, instead of a vigilance committee with all its
care and anxiety to give a fair trial without the technicalities of the
law, to call into action the heated blood of an outraged community;
that, rising in its might, may carry everything before it, and bang
the wretch without even the semblance of a trial? We want no
vigilance committee if it. can be avoided, but we do want to see the
murderer pimished for his crimes.

Day after day King poured forth his indignation in the
newspaper that every man read and an ever-increasing
ntimber looked to for guidance. It speaks well for the
stem school of those few years in a new and unprecedented
community that the men of San Francisco restrained
themselves as long as they did. They were law-abid-
ing citizens and determined to give their law every op-
portunity to vindicate itself; but King knew that there
was no hope in the law unless it could be shamed into
vengeance upon such men as Cora and others of his ilk;
into action over murders committed daily, not only in San
Francisco, but throughout the lawless state. Two com-
mitted on prominent citizens tinder circumstances of
peculiar atrocity while traveling in the country served
to press his arguments home, although he needed no fresh
fuel to feed his own horror and disgust.

King knew his danger, knew that his enemies, who
numbered not only the entire underworld, but the corrupt

182

JAMES KING OF WM.

in his own class, were eager to have him out of the way.
They experienced the sensation of being marooned in the
crater of a Hve volcano with upright and unscalable walls.
At any moment the muttering lava tides beneath might
shoot up and deprive any one of them of power and even
of life. One more earthquake and their fate would be
sealed. If they could reach down and choke the daunt-
less little stoker of that bubbling furnace all might yet be
well. Life was very busy, memories were short, the
other newspapers could be relied upon. Who were in the
plot to eliminate James King of Wm. will never be known ;
possibly because the directing brains were too clever to
commit themselves to anything but whispered directions
in back-rooms, conveyed through an inconspicuous tool.
But that it was a conspiracy deliberately planned and
executed no one may doubt. And it furnished the final
earthquake they sought at any price of blood or con-
science to avoid.

On May 14 (1856), four months after the farce of the
Cora trial, King published an article in the Bulletin
attacking the appointment of a man named Bagley to a
position in the United States custom-house. This man
had been engaged not long before in a disreputable elec-
tion fight with James P. Casey, one of the San Francisco
supervisors. The editorial was aimed not so much at
Bagley as at Casey, who was one of the most "undesirable
citizens" in the town.

It does not matter [remarked Mr, King] how bad a man Casey has
been nor how much benefit it might be to the public to have him out
of the way, we cannot accord to any one citizen the right to kill him
nor even beat him without justifiable personal provocation. The
fact that Casey has been an inmate of Sing Sing prison, in New York,
is no offense against the laws of this state; nor is the fact of having

183

CALIFORNIA

stuffed himself through the ballot-box and elected to the board of
supervisors from a district where it is said he was not even a can-
didate, any justification why Mr. Bagley should shoot Mr. Casey,
however richly the latter may deserve to have his neck stretched for
his fraud on the people.

Shortly after this article appeared Casey presented him-
self at the Bulletin office, which was on Merchant between
Montgomery and Sansome streets, and walking in with-
out ceremony, demanded in a loud voice:

"What do you mean?"

King, who was writing at his desk, glanced up casually.

"Mean?"

"What do you mean by saying that I was a former in-
mate of Sing Sing?"

"And were you not?"

"That's not the question. I don't want my past raked
up. On that point I am sensitive," added Mr. Casey,
naively.

"Have you finished?" 'King had not laid down his
pen. "There is the door. Go. Never show your face
here again."

Casey glanced through an open door. There were
men in the next room. If K!ing had been quite alone it is
possible that he would have lost no time. As it was, he
merely struck a belligerent attitude and exclaimed, in a
loud voice, "If necessary I shall defend myself."

King rose and pointed to the door. "Go. Never
show your face here again."

He did not even take the trouble to remind the hired
assassin, who stalked out, that he might have selected a
more plausible pretense for his indignation than the Bul-
letin's allusion to his sojourn in Sing Sing, since in the trial

184

JAMES KING OF WM.

following his election fight with Bagley he had, under
cross-examination, admitted the fact, and the news had
been commented upon by every newspaper in town.
Casey was a thoroughly bad man of violent temper, quite
ready to commit a cowardly murder for a consideration,
secure in the protection of an element that, in a later
battle for municipal decency, came to be known as the
"higher ups."

King was under no illusions, and when he left the office
saw that his pistol was in his hip pocket.

San Francisco will always be a gray city, for although
her winds — ^poetically but incorrectly known as "the
trades" — make her uncommonly healthy, the fogs that
roll down from the tule lands of the north and in from
the sea impress their sad hue on the imagination of
the builders. This may be because the Californians are
an artistic people, and the law of harmony demands
that the city landscape shall mate with the soft-gray
tides that sweep and curl about the shelters of men,
often obliterating them; or the fog-bank that marches
through the Golden Gate like a mighty ship, to wreck
itself upon the hills in a thousand fantastic shapes.

The streets of San Francisco are almost, and often
wholly, deserted when the fogs invade the city, giving
them an unspeakably dreary aspect and afflicting delicate
throats. When the hour for closing comes in the business
district, hundreds of men swarm down to the ferry-boats
at the foot of Market Street eager to reach their homes
under the sun and set with flowers; those living in the
city hurry along like black ghosts, with their heads down,
looking neither to the right nor the left and longing for
their warm firesides.

i8s

CALIFORNIA

At five o'clock on that evening of May 14th King left
the Bulletin office to walk to his home on the comer of
Pacific and Mason streets. He wore a slouch-hat and a
cloak called "talma," which he had a habit of holding
together across his chest. It is possible that he had quite
forgotten Casey and the advisability of being on the alert,
particularly when the fog was drifting through the city,
for his hands were in their usual position and far from his
pistol-pocket. He was crossing Montgomery Street di-
agonally between Washington and Clay, and was more
than half-way across, when Casey, who had been skulk-
ing behind an express-wagon, suddenly stepped out of
the fog, threw off his cloak, and pointed a large navy re-
volver at King's breast. Even he, it would appear, had
his nerves, for he cried out excitedly:

"Are you armed? Defend yourself! Come on! De-
fend yourself!"

But he was probably unconscious of his words, for he
fired as he spoke. His victim had no time to draw his
pistol.

King staggered into the Pacific Express building on the
comer. The only other person visible seems to have been
Casey's friend, "Ned" McGowan, who scuttled up Wash-
ington Street ; and no one behind walls noticed anything
so common as a pistol-shot until King appeared, stum-
bling and fainting, in the office of the Pacific Express
Company. Then he was tenderly cared for, messengers
were despatched post-haste for surgeons, and a bed was
improvised. When the surgeons arrived they found that
the ball had entered the left breast and gone out of the
body imder the left shoulder-blade. There could be no
doubt that the wound was mortal. He was in great

186

JAMES KING OF WM.

pain; anesthetics were administered, and his wife was
sent for.

Casey had hastened to give himself up, knowing that
the only safe place for him was the jail guarded by his
friends and protected by "the law." He was none too
soon. Although that was long before the day of the tele-
phone, the news that King had been mortally wounded by
Casey flew over the city as if there had been a town crier
in every street, and in an incredibly short time there was
a howling shrieking mob "down -town," composed of
men as hysterical as only men can be under strong
provocation, demanding that Casey be lynched on the
moment. The prison officials, sure that the jail would
be rushed by the black howling mass in the Plaza, sent
for a carriage ; and Casey, accompanied by the city marshal
and the captain of police and several police officers, ran
down Dimbar's alley and entered it at the comer of Wash-
ington Street. The coachman whipped his horses into a
gallop, and the hack with the prisoner and his guards
inside, and another friend, the chief engineer of the fire
department, clinging on behind, dashed furiously into
Kearney Street toward the coimty jail, on Broadway
near Dupont Street. The crowd, shrieking "Hang him!
Kill him!" ran after, but the man was safely within the
stronger walls before they could catch up with the horses.

In front of the jail stood three of Casey's friends armed
to the teeth, Charles Duane, Daniel Aldrich, and Edward
McGowan. Thomas King, the dying man's brother,
harangued the crowd of furious men, inflaming their pas-
sions further until they made an attempt to rush the jail.
They were repulsed, and while they were making ready
for another attack the nmior flew about that the Vigilance

187

CALIFORNIA

Committee was organizing. At the same time Mayor
Van Ness appeared and demanded to be heard ; he made a
speech, coimseling patience and promising justice, and,
although frequently interrupted with derision, managed to
keep them quiet imtil three separate companies of armed
citizens, willing to see Casey hung but opposed to violence,
arrived and not only stu*rounded the jail, but stationed
themselves in the corridors and on the roof. The crowd,
having no leader, finally turned its back and, still ciu-sing,
went down to Montgomery Street and halted before the
building where King lay. In a short time not less than
ten thousand men stood there, anxious for news of the
sufferer, and the police were obHged to stretch a rope
in front of the Pacific Express office. Bulletins were
issued every few minutes ; but as the men could not con-
tain themselves, they finally adjourned to the Plaza, where
speeches could be made and some method of vengeance
determined upon. But again there was no leader; and,
once more hearing that the Vigilance Committee was
assembling, they finally adjourned to the space in front
of the county jail. About three hundred men were now
on guard there.

At eleven o'clock Frederick W. Macondray and John
Sime, two friends of King, and themselves citizens of the
highest type, obtained admittance to the jail. When they
came out they informed the crowd that it was impossible
for Casey to escape or to be rescued. A half -hour later
a mounted battalion under Major Rowell, consisting of
the California Guards, the First Light Dragoons, and the
National Lancers, reinforced the guard of citizens, and the
crowd finally dispersed. Casey for the moment was safe
from lynch law.

i88

JAMES KING OF WM.

But the next morning the same crowd, full of undimin-
ished fury, resenting the lack of leadership and action,
assembled again, drawing together like so many magnets
and utterly disregarding business. Then suddenly they
received a piece of news that caused them to march as one
man down to Sacramento Street near Leidersdorff and
stand in silence before the walls of the American, or
"Know Nothing," Club. The rumors of the night before
that had served to keep their passions in leash had been
foimded upon the futile meeting of several of the members
of the Vigilance Committee of 1851. Within those walls
an entirely new organization was forming, and the grim,
sober, indignant citizens assembled there had found their
leader.

XIII

THE VIGILANCE COMMITTEE OF 1 856

William T. Coleman was bom in Cynthiana, Ken-
tucky, on February 29, 1824, worked on his uncle's
farm and in the lumber-camps of the north, studied
at night, and finally made and saved enough to carry
him not only through school, but the University of
St. Louis; which gave him the degree of Bachelor of
Science. He joined the stampede to California, by the
Overland route, and arrived in Sacramento in August,
1849. It had been his intention to go to the mines,
but he foimd business conditions in the little town so
attractive that he opened a store. It amused him in
later years to tell that his principal source of revenue at
this time was derived from pies made by himself from his
Kentucky aunt's recipe and sold to miners — during their
weekly visits to Sacramento with a bag of "dust" to get
rid of — for ten dollars apiece. But as he was a young
man of great force of character, courage, and persistence,
and of strength of will under a modest and reserved
demeanor, united to original business abilities, it was not
long before he was one of the leading merchants of
San Francisco. That was the day when men rose or fell
with a rapidity hardly paralleled before or since.

In 1855, despite the panic and general depression, he
had demonstrated his faith in the future of California by
organizing a line of clipper ships between San Francisco

190

VIGILANCE COMMITTEE OF 1856

and New York, believing that cereals were bound to be
produced in enormous quantities in the great valleys of
the state and must find a ready market in the East and
Europe. Moreover, there was hardly a local issue in
which Mr. Coleman did not take an active interest, and,
although he never would consent to hold office, he was
prominent in every movement for civic reform. To all
such projects he contributed liberally, as well as to char-
ities, and he had been a member of the first Vigilance
Committee. During the five stormy years that had
passed since the organization of 185 1 disbanded he had
risen steadily to an eminence of clean and honorable
citizenship in that community whose fierce light per-
mitted no man to be misvalued; and as his courage, fair-
ness, and gift for leadership were equally recognized it
followed as a matter of course that when a new Committee
of Vigilance became inevitable he should be its president.
He was only thirty-two, but few of those leading citizens,
estimable or otherwise, were older.

Sam Brannan relieved his mind to the crowd outside
the building in Sacramento Street while the work of
organization proceeded within. Mr. Coleman coun-
seled that the organization be impersonal, that its mem-
bers should be known by their nimibers only.

"It is necessary," said he, "that the organization shall
be very close, very guarded. We must be very careful
whom we admit."

He wrote out an oath of fealty to the organization
pledging life, liberty, property, and honor, and swore in
those that were present. He then directed that every
member take his number and write it in a book with his
name and address.

13 191

CALIFORNIA

"Who will be number one?" he asked; and many cried
simultaneously :

"You, Mr. Coleman."

Even then he was willing to resign his leadership if
some one else was thought better qualified; but opinion
was unanimous on this point, and he wrote himself dovm :

"No. I."

The enrolment after this was very rapid, and so many
men in addition to the old members of 1851 applied for
membership that the Committee was obliged to adjoiirn
to the Turn Verein Hall in Bush Street, and thence to
a large wholesale house in Sacramento Street between
Davis and Front streets; the old "water-lots" below
Montgomery Street having been "filled in" and built
upon for some years. Thirty-five hundred men were en-
rolled within two days, all sorts and conditions of men being
admitted who were above suspicion. Hundreds who could
not bring themselves to so radical a departure from "law
and order" secretly sympathized with the Committee
and sent it liberal donations ; such being the noble institu-
tion of compromise invented by man! The public, bar-
ring the "Law and Order" party shortly to be formed,
and the worst element, now furious and apprehensive,
supported the new Vigilance Committee from the first, if
only because it had complete faith in Mr. Coleman. So
did the other cities, and even the mountain communities
of the state, mass-meetings of indorsement being held as
soon as the news reached them.

However, the Governor of California, John Neely
Johnson, notified by Mayor Van Ness, came down post-
haste and, arriving in the evening, went at once to the
Committee rooms and remained there until two o'clock

192

VIGILANCE COMMITTEE OF 1856

in the morning. Mr. Coleman advised him to take the
philosophical view of the inevitable so wisely adopted by-
Governor McDougal in 1851. He gave him a statement
in detail of the abominable wrongs of the city — the looted
treasury; the filthy dilapidated streets; the impudent
flaunting vice ; the lack of police protection for decent
citizens, the police being a part of the corrupt political
machinery; the stuffing of ballot-boxes. The law, added
Mr. Coleman, was a dead letter. It was merely the ob-
ject of the Committee to turn San Francisco from a hell
into a city fit for decent, industrious, and law-abiding
men to live in; and this, Mr. Coleman gently intimated,
the Committee purposed to do, governor or no governor.
He so won Johnson by his eloquence without rhetoric that
the chief officer of the state finally sprang to his feet and
slapped him on the back, exclaiming :

"Go it, old boy. But get through as quickly as you
can. Don't prolong it, because there is a terrible opposi-
tion and a terrible pressure."

But Governor Johnson was not what you would call
a man of iron purpose. He imderwent a change of heart
before night. In truth, there was much to daunt all but
the strongest, although, judging by his final words to Mr.
Coleman, he already had experienced "pressure."

But men were deserting by the score from the militia
companies on guard at the jail and joining the Vigilantes;
and William T. Sherman, who was major-general of the
second division of the California militia, and had been
chosen captain of the citizens' posse about the county
jail, refused to serve under Sheriff Scannell or in any
capacity save that of major-general. He obtained an
interview with the governor shortly after the long con-

193

CALIFORNIA

ference in Mr. Coleman's office, and, having drawn an
alarming picture of the state of the public mind, demon-
strating that the Committee roll of membership was in-
creasing every hour, and that the great bankers, John
Parrott, William C. Ralston, and Drexel, Sather &
Church, were covertly supporting it, persuaded the gover-
nor that a stand must be made for law and order, and
that the only thing to do was to enter into a treaty with
William T. Coleman and other members of the Committee.

Sherman was a better soldier than diplomatist. He
seems to have been a signal failure whenever he attempted
the office of intermediary. All Mr. Coleman would con-
cede was that the executive should place a guard of ten
men inside the jail; otherwise he proceeded with the mo-
mentous business in hand exactly as if the governor slept
in Sacramento. For the present there was but one law
in the city, and he was at the head of it.

Meanwhile James King of Wm., although he rallied
once or twice, was slowly dying. He had been removed
to a room in the Montgomery Street block, where the best
of surgeons and nurses, besides the members of his family,
were in constant attendance.

Charles Doane had been elected chief marshal of the
Vigilance Committee's military forces. Of the fifteen
hundred men he had put imder arms and drilled, many
had seen service in the Mexican War, others had belonged
to disbanded militia companies. These helped to drill
the raw recruits, and between enthusiasm and concen-
tration of purpose this little army at the end of three
days might have been composed of war veterans.

King was shot on the 14th. On Sunday, the i8th,
Marshal Doane, having notified the Committee that hig

194

VIGILANCE COMMITTEE OF 1856

forces were ready for active and immediate service, Mr.
Coleman sent word to the governor, who was at the
International Hotel engaged in constant and futile con-
ference with Sherman and others, that the Committee
was about to acti At noon the companies started by-
three separate routes for the jail. They marched up
Kearney, Dupont, and Stockton streets — King opened
his eyes as he heard the slow steady tramp of many feet,
and apparently understood what was about to happen —
and when they converged at the jail fell into position as
precisely as if they had rehearsed their parts on the spot.
It was a brilHant day; the steel bayonets flashed in the
May sunshine. Before the doors of the jail a cannon
was pointed, and a gunner was beside it. On the hills
above, on all the roofs near by, in the adjacent streets,
stood dense masses of silent people. Now that men of
high authority were acting, there was no impulse among
lesser men to expend themselves in vain emotions.
• A carriage drove up and Mr. Coleman and Miers F.
Truet ascended the steps of the jail in full view of all.
Sheriff Scannell, standing behind the wicket of the jail
door, refused entrance. Mr. Coleman pulled out his
watch and gave Scannell five minutes. The gunner beside
the cannon lit the fuse. Every man in the crowd took out
his watch and counted the minutes. The gunner waved
his fuse. Precisely as the five minutes expired the door
opened and Mr. Coleman and Mr. Truet entered.

They found Casey brandishing a knife and screaming
hysterically, but upon being assured that he would have
a fair trial he surrendered and went quietly out to the
carriage between the president and his associate. Mr.
Coleman quickly suppressed with a wave of his hand the

195

CALIFORNIA

cheer that greeted his arrival at the head of the steps,
and drove off amidst an intense and ominous silence to
headquarters. The carriage returned shortly after, and
Cora was led out in the same manner and driven down to
Sacramento Street, and then the troops reformed and
marched back to protect "the fort."

From the roof of the International Hotel in Jackson
Street, Governor Johnson, Mayor Van Ness, and William
T. Sherman were helpless onlookers at this extraordinary
spectacle; the law-and-order forces, under R. Augustin
Thompson, numbered only one himdred and fifty. Sher-
man estimated that there were at least ten thousand
people within rifle-shot of the jail. It was an impressive
sight from first to last: Marshal Doane on his white
horse, the invincible ranks of earnest young volunteers, the
carriage driving up with the man upon whom a people
had conferred the power of a Tsar, the cowed trembling
figures of the murderers hurried out and away, the black
mass of people covering Telegraph Hill to the top,
brightened with the gay shawls and bonnets of women of
every degree.

The trial of Cora began on May 20th. He was per-
mitted to choose his own counsel and asked Miers F.
Truet and T. J. L. Smedley to undertake his defense.
The executive committee sat in the long upper front room
before a table. There were armed guards on the stairs
and on the roof and parading the square before the building.

Cora, facing those serious implacable faces, hardly
could have forborne to contrast them with the packed
juries of his experience; and Mr. Coleman, a man of
imposing appearance and great dignity, must have seemed
to him a grotesque contrast to the tobacco-chewing, shirt-

196

VIGILANCE COMMITTEE OF 1856

sleeved judges of the San Francisco courts. And in a
moment lie trembled. Marshal Doane entered hastily
and announced the death of James King of Wm., and
added that the most intense excitement pervaded the city.
He was directed to inform the people that the trials were
in progress, but that the Committee must proceed with
the utmost deliberation and that every witness would be
carefully examined.

James King of Wm. died at half past one on Thursday,
May 20, 1856. Every building in the city — save the
gambling-houses and the saloons — was immediately draped
in black; all business ceased. The bells of the churches
and engine-houses tolled, and in the harbor craft of every
sort displayed their flags at half-mast. No other private
citizen has ever received such a tribute; the crowds that
packed the streets with cr^pe on every arm not only were
manifesting their profound respect and grief for the man
who had attempted to reform his miserable city single-
handed, but a deep affection for the man himself. It was
only 1856, he had lived among them but seven years, but,
as has been observed, men in those days lived by lightning,
and virtue that could not be hid under a bushel was re-
garded with awe and reverence. They knew also that if
he could have lived to round out his threescore and ten
he would have spent it in the public service; and per-
sonally he seems to have been one of the most lovable
of men. In all the other towns of the state the people,
although few had known him save as a public character,
paid him a similar tribute. Stores and public buildings
were draped with black, mass-meetings were held, and
services in the churches.

The Committee of Vigilance sat almost continuously

197

CALIFORNIA

for two days and two nights listening to the evidence for
and against Casey and Cora. No two scoundrels ever
received a fairer trial. They were unanimously pro-
noiinced guilty and sentenced to be hanged on Friday, the
23d, at twelve o'clock.

On Thursday King's funeral took place, and once more
all the world was in the street and on the housetops, a
point of vantage lost to the present generation. Tt was
an imposing cortege that left the Unitarian Church on
Stockton between Clay and Sacramento streets after the
services. The Masons, Royal Arch Chapter, in full
regalia, led the procession. Following, four abreast, were
the officiating clergymen and surgeons; then came the
hearse drawn by four white horses and attended by
fourteen pall-bearers, ten coaches filled with the family
and friends and the men employed on the Bulletin; then
the Society of California Pioneers in regalia, members of
the press, Sacramento Guards in uniform, San Francisco
Fire Department, St. Mary's Library Association, three
hundred and twenty draymen on horseback, the Steve-
dores Association, the German Benevolent Society, Turn
Verein Association, a delegation of colored men, and forty
carriages of citizens. The procession was a mile long and
accompanied for a part of the distance by practically the
remainder of the decent population of the city. It moved
slowly out Bush Street toward Lone Mountain Ceme-
tery, and no doubt the population would have escorted it
the entire way, but suddenly a rumor spread, coming
whence no one ever knew, and some ten or twelve thousand
of those not in the funeral procession began to melt back-
ward; finally, when beyond sound of the solemn music,
they broke into a run.

198

VIGILANCE COMMITTEE OF 1856

The executive committee had determined to execute
Cora and Casey on that day while all the town was
marching toward the cemetery, thus avoiding a possible
disturbance on the morrow.

The condemned men were informed of their fate. Two
Catholic priests were with them ; and one, Father Michael
Accolti, went at once for Arrabella Ryan and married
her to the man whose name she had assumed long since.
She was now legally Belle Cora, and perchance found
some consolation in being a widow.

Wooden platforms a yard long had been run out from
the second-story windows fronting on Sacramento Street,
and provided with hinges at the outer edges of the window-
sills. These platforms were held in a horizontal position
by cords fastened at their outer ends, passing up to beams
projecting directly overhead from the roof of the building.
To these beams were attached ropes with nooses and
slip-knots already prepared. Below in a hollow square
stood the Committee troops, under Marshal Doane, with
their muskets on their shoulders. There was also a de-
tachment on the roof, in front of the great alarm-bell of
"Fort Vigilance." At each end of the block a cannon
was in place. No attempt was made at rescue, however,
and the crowd that rapidly collected and blocked all the
neighboring streets or cHmbed to the tops of the business
buildings, were bent on seeing vengeance done.

The condemned men emerged from the windows at a
little after one o'clock. They wore shapeless white gar-
ments, and their arms were pinioned. Each was accom-
panied by a priest, and for the moment both seemed to
be firm. But almost immediately Casey broke into an
excited tirade, proclaiming that he was no murderer;

199

CALIFORNIA

attributing his present position to the faults of early-
education in one breath and glorifying his mother in an-
other, he adjured each newspaper in turn not to call him
a murderer. Finally he broke down completely, scream-
ing : "Oh, my poor mother ! My poor mother ! How her
heart will bleed at this news. It is her pain I feel now.
But she will not believe me a murderer. I but resented
an injury. Oh, my mother! My mother! God bless
you. Gentlemen, I pardon you. God will forgive you. I
know He will forgive me. O God, with the accumulated
guilt of my twenty-nine years have mercy on me! Oh,
my poor mother!" The priest attempted to persuade
him to pray, but in vain. He continued to fill the crowd
below with pity and admiration for the good mother of
a bad man until his legs were strapped together, the noose
adjusted, and a white cap drawn over his face and head.
Cora had stood unmoved; nor did he protest when he,
too, was strapped and covered. At twenty-one minutes
past one the signal was given, the cords holding up the
platforms were cut from above, and the two white-
hooded men swung off into space.

As they had repented and been received back into the
Catholic Church, the Mission Dolores could not refuse
them burial in its hallowed groiuid. They were hurried
out in the night by Belle Cora and a few friends and
buried by torchlight in a comer of the cemetery that
holds Luis Arguello.

XIV

THE VIGILANCE COMMITTEE AND DAVID S. TERRY

The Committee of Vigilance remained in continu-
ous session for six months. They hanged two other
murderers, Joseph Hetherington, an EngHshman, and
Philander Brace, a desperado from New York; forcibly
expelled from California all on their famous "black list,"
packing them off by wholesale on steamers and sailing-
vessels. Each was given a fair trial. It was soon under-
stood by the most desperate as well as by the most dis-
approving that the Committee was implacable, and that
it would not adjourn until the city was as clean as was
humanly possible. All things being relative, it would
be clean.

The net result of the long session was two murders as
against over one hundred in the previous six months;
the passing of the current joke — "a man every morning
for breakfast"; a complete reform of local politics; and
as peaceable and decent a state of affairs for something
like twenty years as San Francisco could stand without
instant dissolution.

But, although the steady processional advance of this
strange tribunal's high accomplishment was like a Greek
drama in its secret sinister atmosphere of blind justice
and crushing inevitableness, and its achievements were
phenomenal considering that mere men held the scales

20I

CALIFORNIA

and worked for the regeneration of one of the wickedest
cities on earth, it was beset with dangers every step of
the way and compelled to exert every resotirce of its
composite brain to save its own life.

The Southerners, who for the most part formed the
Law and Order party, were against the Vigilance Com-
mittee practically to a man. Their excuse was that it
was every good citizen's duty to uphold the law in all cir-
cumstances, but their real reasons were so well known
that in private life they did not hesitate to express them.
Apart from the smoldering resentment against the
Northerners for declaring California a free state at the
constitutional convention, and the fact that were it not
for one man, David C. Broderick (also a Democrat), the
politics of the state would be entirely in their hands,
there was a lively fear that those men who were making
history down by the water-front in their impregnable
"fort" might develop into a strong political power, able
to retain a permanent control of the state. And for the
present the Vigilance Committee actually was the only
power in California. Not a politician dared to raise his
head. The governor had issued an absurd proclamation
declaring the city of San Francisco in a state of insur-
rection, that further paralyzed the Southern party in any
attempt toward future adjustment.

The Southerners who adventured into California in and
shortly after 1849, either to improve their fortunes or to
find a sure and quick means of gratifying their political
ambitions, were for the most part gentlemen, well edu-
cated, more or less accomplished, and all experienced in
politics; in the South of that day politics was the ruling
passion. Few of these men went to the mines; and the

202

DAVID S. TERRY

stalwart immigrants from the North and West, farmers,
mountaineers, mustered-out soldiers, who invested their
gold-dust in the coimtry that fascinated them, sent for
their families and became the solid business men, me-
chanics, and farmers of the state, stood in awe for many-
years of these suave, urbane, occasionally fire-eating and
always well-dressed gentlemen from the most aristocratic
section of the Union. They were forced to admit that
the Southerner's experience of life and politics was as
superior as his manners, and if at first they did not
realize the subtlety with which the stronger party so often
gained its ends they were in no doubt whatever as to the
effects. Before this keen, clever, but too heterogeneous
mass "found itself," the Southerners, bom leaders, and
with politics the paramount interest in their lives, had
control of both San Francisco and California.

Of these WiUiam M. Gwin was the leader. The first
long-term Senator from the state, he planted a friend in
every one of its federal offices, not only gratifying his sense
of noblesse oblige, but "making himself solid" against fu-
ture emergencies. *T leave for California to-morrow," he
had said to Stephen A. Douglas on the eve of departure
from New York. "It will become a state, and I shall be
back in a year bearing my credentials as United States
Senator." This prophecy he fulfilled to the letter, and
during both terms of his incumbency he was an ornament
to the state and of some use. But his career is too bound
up with that of Broderick to be enlarged upon further in
this chapter.

The Thorntons, Crittendens, Lafayette Maynards,
Gwins, Bowies, Howards; the Maxwells, MacMullens, and
McNutts (the "Three Macs"); the Shorbs, Hitchcocks,

203

CALIFORNIA

Kelloggs, Kips, Louis McLanes, Athertons, McKinstrys,
HoUidays, Kings, Gordons, Randolphs, Thibaults, Selbys,
Parrotts, Redingtons, Macondrays, Otises, Maillards,
Fairfaxes, Bebcocks, Poetts, Scotts, and the Hall McAl-
listers— either Southerners themselves or high in favor
with the dominant party — are a few of the names still
remembered that played so great a social r61e in the '50's
and '6o's, before the Civil War put many of them out
of politics. It was many years, however, before the
Southerners in San Francisco lost their social supremacy;
they ruled as long as they had any money left, and gave
a tone to that city of many epochs that is still a tradition
if not a guide. Of all those Southern women that ruled
society as inexorably as their husbands led in law, politics,
or business, admitting and excluding as they chose, Mrs.
Hall McAUister was the most brilliant, individual, and
accomplished. Although her husband, so soon at the
head of the California bar, was not a Southerner, she was;
her position was unchallenged, not only because of her
birth and gift for leadership, but because even in those
days a New Yorker of family estimated himself as highly
as any Southerner. Moreover, Mr. McAUister had no
political aspirations.

Not all the Northerners by any means belonged to the
Vigilance Committee or even helped it in secret, and in
its ranks were a few who were above sectional distinctions
in this far-off land. William T. Coleman himself was a
Kentuckian — and a Democrat. Men from the North and
the West, however, that had stood aloof at first were con-
verted after they reaUzed that nothing but a return of Cal-
ifornia to her old haunts under the Pacific could retard the
progress of the Committee of Vigilance or interfere with

204

DAVID S. TERRY

its ultimate success. Admiral Farragut, stationed at
Mare Island, had declined to bombard the toKTi and
exterminate the "insurrectionists," and Major-General
Wool, commanding the Pacific division of the United
States army, and stationed at Benicia, refused to furnish
the governor with arms and ammunition. Sherman made
desperate efforts to raise companies of militia to oppose
the formidable and ever-growing military forces of] the
Vigilance Committee ; but, as nearly all his old men had
gone over to the enemy, and as the new recruits were for
the most part contemptible in numbers and character,
and as the governor could not be brought to see reason, he
resigned in disgust. Governor Johnson even sent two
influential men, R. Augustin Thompson and Ferris For-
man, to Washington to solicit the aid of the President in
restoring California to its lawful owners. The President
declined to interfere, and the Vigilance Committee grew
in power daily.

Both the Law and Order party and the commercial
and professional men in sympathy with the Vigilance
Committee contained many known as "moderate men."
A number of these formed themselves into a commission
to bring about some sort of adjustment between the
governor and the Vigilance Committee. Judge Joseph
B. Crockett, F. W. Macondray, Henry S. Foote, Martin
R. Roberts, Judge James D. Thornton, James Donahue,
Bailey Peyton, and John J. Williams waited upon the
executive board of the Committee, and after much palaver
obtained a set of resolutions whereby the Committee
pledged itself to keep its forces out of the public squares
arid streets and offer no resistance to the admission of
any writ of habeas corpus on consideration that the gov-

205

CALIFORNIA

ernor would withdraw his proclamation and the forces
of Law and Order disband.

On June 7 th the governor started for San Francisco
by boat, and the Citizens' Committee, accompanied by
Sherman, took the up-river boat in order to meet the
executive at Benicia. They arrived first; and Sherman,
waiting at the wharf, saw, to his disgust, that his chief
was accompanied by Volney E. Howard, Edward Jones,
Edward E. Baker, and David S. Terry, Justice of the
Supreme Bench — on his way down to play his part in
that long and bloody drama of the fifties.

"All of these men," said Sherman, later, "were known
to be of the most ultra kind, men of violent feelings, and
who were determined to bring about a collision of arms
if possible."

The governor went at once to the Solano Hotel, and,
counseled by his fire-eaters, at first refused to see the
Citizens' Committee. All were convinced that these
men were secret Vigilantes, and they alternated uncom-
plimentary epithets with wholesale denunciation of Gen-
eral Wool. But Sherman finally succeeded in assuring
them of this particular committee's moderation, and that
Judge Thornton, on the night of Casey's arrest, had been
one of the first to seize his pistols and rush to the assist-
ance of Sheriff Scannell, in the name of law and order.
He further assured the governor that all the arms in the
state not in the possession of the army and navy, were
owned by the Vigilance Committee.

Finally the Committee of Citizens was permitted to
come up-stairs and enter the presence; and the manners
of California society in the fifties, outside of exclusive
Southern circles, cannot be better illustrated than by

206

DAVID S. TERRY

describing the attitude of Judge Terry, of the Supreme
Bench, as the doors were thrown open, and, for the
matter of that, throughout the interview. In the pres-
ence of the governor of the state he sat with his hat on
and his feet on the table. He had a smooth upper lip,
and a long "political beard," and, I don't doubt, was
chewing tobacco.

The conference was futile. The governor had been
persuaded before he left Sacramento that the Vigilance
Committee was really weak and ready to "cave in." He
announced his determination to enforce the law; "and
if unhappily a collision should occur, and injury to life
and property result, the responsibility must rest upon
those that disregarded the authorities of the state." It
was then that Sherman resigned.

This was virtually a declaration of war, and the Vig-
ilance Committee proceeded to intrench itself more
securely. Sewers were examined, and the lines of patrol
extended and doubled. The building in Sacramento
Street was surrounded by a barricade of coarse "gunny"
sacks filled with sand. These breastworks, six feet thick
and ten feet high, and extending out from the front cor-
ners of the building, made a large inclosure including
the street. Embrasures were left for cannon, and there
was an inside platform and openings for musketry fire.
Cannon were also placed on the roof. Sympathizers in
the neighborhood offered their stores and warehouses as
depositories for arms and food, and for hospital purposes,
and on the roofs of these buildings sentries were stationed.
The immediate result was a great mass-meeting indorsing
the Committee, and the men within "Fort Gunnybags"
went on trying and banishing the bad characters of the city.
14 207

CALIFORNIA

The state under the law was entitled to a certain quota
of arms from the federal arsenal, and these Governor
Johnson finally managed to extract from Major-General
Wool — six cases of muskets. Two men, Reuben Maloney
and John C. Phillips, went secretly to Benicia for them,
stowed them into a schooner, the Julia, and started for
San Francisco. The Vigilance Committee having been
notified of this move by the captain of another schooner,
a force was sent to relieve the confidential agents of their
burden. The Julia was boarded in San Pablo Bay, and
both arms and men taken into custody. At San Fran-
cisco the men were released and the muskets taken to
Fort Gunnybags.

Then came a series of events which must have made
the Committee wish that they had kept their hands out
of one hornets' nest, at least. They determined to re-
arrest Maloney and Phillips, and sent Sterling A. Hopkins,
of their police force, to bring them to headquarters.
Hopkins suffered from an excess of zeal and no little
egoism. Maloney proved to be in the office of Dr. R. P.
Ashe, a captain of one of the Law and Order companies.
He was surrounded by Terry, Hamilton Bowie, and James
McNab. Terry, as a peace officer, forbade the arrest
in his presence.

Hopkins withdrew, but instead of going to head-
quarters for instruction, doubled his forces and started
for the office again. As he was marching down Jackson
Street he met the Maloney party on their way to the
armory of the San Francisco Blues on the northeast cor-
ner of Dupont Street. They were armed with guns.
Hopkins and his nine men bore down upon them and
attempted to seize Maloney. Terry, whose fighting-blood

208

DAVID S. TERRY

always seems to have been on tap, rushed at Hopkins,
brandishing his gun. The poHce officer caught it below
the nozzle, and the two men struggled to gain sole pos-
session, until Terry, now quite beside himself, drew his
bowie-knife and plunged it into Hopkins's neck. The
wounded man sank to the sidewalk streaming with blood.
He was caught up and carried to the Pennsylvania Engine-
house by his companions, who do not seem to have had
the presence of mind to make an arrest.

The Law and Order citizens, their minds no doubt
visited abruptly by a picture of those thirty men sitting
in judgment behind a long table down at Fort Vigilance,
ran for the armory, and, the usual crowd filling the nar-
row streets at once, the doors were closed and barred.
A few moments later that most ominous sound known
to the fifties, the alarm-bell of the Vigilance Committee,
sounded its single loud deep note. Within fifteen min-
utes every fighting member of the Committee was armed
and ready to march imder the leadership of Marshal
Doane on his white horse.

It was three o'clock when the tap sounded. Merchants,
professional men, mechanics, the rich, the poor, dropped
their work, seized their guns, and hurried to headquarters.
Draymen imhitched the horses from their vehicles,
mounted them, and galloped for Fort Gunnybags. At
the end of another fifteen minutes not only the armory,
but every bmlding identified with the Law and Order
forces was surrounded. The crowds retreated to the
roofs. For blocks the streets were packed with silent
rows of upright military - looking men, their muskets
glittering in the sun. This was the first object-lesson the
inimical party had received of the marvelous drilling,

209

CALIFORNIA

the appalling numbers, and the unanimity of spirit the
Vigilance Committee was able to command with a single
tap of its bell.

The horrified party inside the armory of the Blues sent
out a letter to the Committee offering to surrender if
assured of protection from violence. The letter was
signed by Ashe, as captain of Company A, and Martin
J. Reese, as first lieutenant of Company B. They re-
ceived the assurance of protection provided they would
surrender not only Maloney and Terry, but all the ammu-
nition in the building. As the intrenched were disposed
to dicker, two cannon were moved to a position command-
ing the front of the armory. They were given fifteen
minutes to accept or reject the terms, and the surrender
of the others in the armory was now demanded in addi-
tion to the original two. The men inside were no fools.
They opened the doors without further parley, and a
detachment of the Vigilance Committee forces marched
in. Three hundred muskets and other weapons were
carried out first, loaded on drays, and sent down to the
fort. Then two carriages — "hacks," in local parlance —
which always seem to have dogged those ominous mus-
terings, drove up to the doors. The prisoners entered,
police officers climbed to the box-seats and roof or hung
on behind. Large bodies of infantry, which in turn was
protected by cavalry, surrounded the hacks and began
their march down to Fort Gunnybags. On their way
they paused before other Law and Order strongholds,
which gave up their arms, ammunition, and themselves
without parley. Sherman must have been under a mis-
apprehension when he informed the governor that all
the arms in the city were in the possession of the VigilancQ

219

DAVID S. TERRY

Committee, for on that day alone they took six hundred
muskets and a corresponding amount of powder and shot
and other munitions of war. They also captured eleven
cases of muskets and three boxes of pistols and ammu-
nition sent down from Sacramento on the Mariposa.
It is possible that Sherman, thoroughly disgusted and
secretly believing in the righteousness of the other cause,
did not care to arm the riffraff of the city, who were more
likely to loot than to face the forces of the Vigilance
Committee.

Terry had ruined the Law and Order cause as thor-
oughly as if he had been its bitterest enemy, and he
was a most imwelcome guest at Fort Vigilance. As a
member of the Committee remarked, "They had gone
gunning for ferrets and corralled a grizzly." Terry not
only was a state officer, a sufficient embarrassment in
itself, but he had been prominent in California ever since
his arrival, and had served his coimtry in the Mexican
War. No man was more conspicuous as a bitter partisan
in politics; he had indisputable legal ability, and he was
brave and reckless to a degree that might have justified
him in posing as a symbol of the times. Always retaining
something of the Texas ranger in his swagger and dress —
to say nothing of manners — ^he was a pictiiresque figiire in
spite of his beard, and, like all men of violent individuaHty,
was rabidly loved and hated.

It is possible that if Terry had made off for the interior
on horseback he would not have been hunted with ardor;
but, although to hang a justice of the Supreme Bench of
the state was the last thing the Committee had anticipated
when organizing, they were prepared to go even that
length if the wound he had inflicted proved mortal.

211

CALIFORNIA

Dr. Ashe, being a naval officer of the port, was almost
as great an embarrassment; but, as he was innocent of
attempted murder and gave his word to remain neutral
and to hold himself at the disposal of the Committee, he
was let out on parole. The Committee had no desire to
get into trouble with the United States government.
The other Law and Order prisoners were also dismissed
after an uncomfortable night.

It is true that before Terry's arrest the majority of
first-class men in the Law and Order party had resigned in
disgust, not only because the governor, who should have
adequately supported them, proved to be weak and
obstinate, but they were men of brains and realized their
own futility. The Vigilance party numbered thousands
to their hundreds, and was supported by public opinion.
They had dropped out one by one, and those that remained
steadfast felt keenly the humiliation of being classed with
the miserable crooks and gamblers and saloon hangers-on
with whom they had been forced to fill their ranks ; more-
over of learning every few days that a fresh batch of these
very "Law and Order soldiers" had been arrested and
deported.

Of those that had remained until the day which wit-
nessed the final overthrow of the party Gen. Volney
Howard was the most conspicuous by reason of being in
command of the Law and Order forces and his intimacy
with Terry. He took his humiliation in no philosophical
spirit, and, although a general without an army, blustered
to the Vigilance Committee that he would put them
down in sixty days, as he expected reinforcements from
Washington. The Vigilance Committee did not even
pause to smile, and he retreated to Sacramento and

212

DAVID S. TERRY

poured out his indignation over Justice Terry's arrest
at the hands of law-breakers until some one interrupted
him with the pertinent question: What business had a
justice to leave his bench in Sacramento and engage in a
street row in San Francisco? There was no doubt that
the entire sta.te, with the exception of the individual
remnants of the former Law and Order party, and
Terry's friends, was behind the Vigilance Committee;
nevertheless, men of all opinions sincerely hoped that
Hopkins would live.

Terry has been blamed for not remaining quiet, dig-
nified, passive, refusing to acknowledge the jurisdiction of
the Committee or in any manner to recognize its action.
If he had maintained this lofty and judicial attitude it
is argued that the hostile sentiment of the c^'ty would
have yielded to admiration, and there might even have
been a peremptory demand from members of the Com-
mittee itself that he be discharged as outside of its juris-
diction.

But when a man has a rope roimd his neck, helpless in
the grasp of the most powerful and awe-inspiring secret
tribunal the world has seen since the days of the doges,
when he is a big-bodied full-blooded Texas ranger ac-
customed to bluff, and to bellowing down opponents, the
judicial attitude of mind is liable to suspension. He
railed at the Committee, shouted over the top of his
"cell," communicated with his friends outside through
his wife, and never for a moment ceased to demand his
liberty.

Great pressure was brought to bear upon the Com-
mittee ; even Commander Boutwell, United States sloop
John Adams, then in the harbor, demanded that Terry,

213

CALIFORNIA

as a state judge,'^be imprisoned on board his ship. This
move was intended to embroil the Committee with the
United States government, an issue that Governor John-
son, under the advice of Terry, had endeavored to com-
pass from the beginning.

But, although such powerful men as Hall McAllister,
Judge Thornton, and Alexander P. Crittenden managed
to delay the trial on the pretext of negotiation between
Terry and the executive committee — ^which involved many
interviews — it all came to naught. Dr. Beverly Cole had
testified on the day after the arrest that Hopkins was
dangerously wounded, and once more San Francisco was
in a state of wild excitement. Really one wonders how
those agitated brains of the fifties ever survived into the
more tranquil sixties, and what time they had to attend
to their flourishing businesses. San Francisco, however,
despite her many trials, has always manifested an almost
uncanny ability to take care of herself.

Although the trial was postponed until Friday, the
testimony of Dr. Ashe was taken on the Sunday after the
arrest, and that same evening Terry was indicted on the
following coimts. In a brief space they give not only
an insight into Terry's character and career, but into the
searching methods of the Committee toward any prisoner
before its bar.

Resisting with violence the officers of the Vigilance Committee
while in the discharge of their duties.

Committing an assault with a deadly weapon with intent to kill
Sterling A. Hopkins on June 21, 1856.

Various breaches of the peace and attacks upon citizens while in
the discharge of their duties, specified as follows:

I. Resistance in 1853 to a writ of habeas corpus on account of which
one Roach escaped from the custody of the law, and the infant heirs
of the Sanchez family were defrauded of their rights,

2X4

DAVID S. TERRY

2. An attack in 1853 on a citizen of Stockton named Evans.

3. An attack in 1853 on a citizen in San Francisco named Purdy,

4. An attack at a charter election on a citizen of Stockton named
King.

5. An attack in the court-house of Stockton on a citizen named
Broadhouse.

Although there were now practically no arms in the
city save those in the possession of the Vigilance Com-
mittee, it was feared that a sufficient number might be
supplied by Boutwell to encourage the friends of Terry
to rush the fort ; and it is possible that this naval officer,
who does not appear to have been a monster of judgment,
might have done some practical meddling had he not
been promptly called to order by Admiral Farragut, who
had no intention of risking a rebuke from Washington.
But meanwhile Fort Vigilance had extended its lines of
guards in all directions, and Terry was transferred to a
cell where he could not shout to possible friends on
neighboring roofs.

An effort was made by the negotiators to induce Terry
to resign his position on the Supreme Bench and promise
to leave the state; but if his fearless spirit ever considered
this road to liberty we have no knowledge of it. We do
know, however, that Mrs. Terry said loudly that he
never should leave the Committee fort alive save as a
justice of the Supreme Court.

All the correspondence relative to the case, by the
way, that issued from the Committee rooms was signed
Secretary 33, a signature that caused as keen a thrill of
terror in those days as the tap of the alarm-bell. The
man behind was Isaac Bluxome, Jr. Finally all cor-
respondence relative to Terry ceased and the trial
began.

215

CALIFORNIA

Terry was led into the long room and directed to stand
before the bar of the executive committee. It was a
scene that Terry knew had daunted nerves as stout as
his: that long table with its sober faces, Mr. Coleman in
the middle, just and implacable, no one else in the room
but the prisoner, the counsel, and one witness. Seventy-
five men under arms were within the building; rank upon
rank without. Gunners stood beside the cannon, and a
drawbridge was in readiness to be lowered from the sec-
ond-story window, that Terry might be spirited away in
case of attack.

The taking of testimony and the examination of wit-
nesses occupied three weeks. Terry was defended by
Miers F. Truet. Thomas J. L. Smiley appeared for the
prosecution. Terry plead not guilty to all the charges,
and this attitude entailed the examination of a vast
number of witnesses, all of whose testimony was thor-
oughly sifted. Hopkins was on the road to recovery
long before the trial was over, and this fact had restored
all Terry's dashing confidence in himself and his destiny.
On June 2 2d he plead his own case, reiterating what he
had maintained from the beginning, that he merely had
resented an insult and defended his life. This was pal-
pably a lie, but the court was anxious to be rid of him
now that he no longer was a potential murderer, and not
only in his own person but as a state officer had been
punished by much humiliation and loss of prestige. A
vote of three-fifths was required to convict him. He was
found guilty on the first charge and on one of the minor
charges. Upon the second charge, that of assault with
intent to kill, the committee sat up for two nights and
finally pronoimced him "guilty of assault." He was dis-

2j6

DAVID S. TERRY

charged and told to leave the state; but the order was
not enforced.

There is no doubt that he owed his discharge not
merely to the fact that he was a white elephant — ^for many
members of the committee refused to consider the dig-
nified position he held on the bench — but to the utter
and universal contempt which Hopkins had managed to
inspire. He strutted about like a swollen turkey cock
as soon as he was able to be out, and while still in bed
had held daily receptions. Finally he appeared before
the Vigilance Committee and offered to compromise with
Terry on a money basis. The executive committee, dis-
gusted that such a creature should have crept into their
ranks, were the more inclined to be lenient with Terry,
who at least was a man.

Boutwell received the justice on board the John Adams
and fired a salute in his honor. As soon as possible
Terry took the river-boat for Sacramento. There he
remained quiet for a while, to emerge later in a far more
important and terrible rdle.

BRODERICK

David C. Broderick, the ablest man in California's
political history and in many respects the most interest-
ing, was also one of the most complete exponents of the
Irish- American politician of the large successful type that
the United States has produced. It would seem that
only men of this peculiar breed can wage war against
an aristocracy or oligarchy without becoming mere dem-
agogues or deluding themselves with the fiction that
they are working for the brotherhood of man, coining
new names to explain themselves.

Broderick at all events cherished no delusions of that
sort. He wanted the earth, and he wanted it for himself.
A plebeian by birth, bom in an era when the aristocracies
of the republic were all-powerful, his great abilities ham-
pered by the oligarchies he despised, he swore to conquer
in spite of every intrenched and opposing force, and to
achieve the highest ambitions that might be cherished
by the "true-blue American." He was ambition incar-
nate. If he had any weaknesses or vicious tendencies he
plucked them out by the roots while he was still a young
man, lest they interfere with his paramount object. He
neither drank nor smoked nor looked upon woman. He
had warmth, and humor, but he rarely allowed these too
human tendencies to appear, lest they also retard his

218

BRODERICK

progress ; nevertheless, they were to be divined, as well as
his sense of fair play and gratitude; and in consequence
his friends loved him as passionately as his enemies hated
him. No man, however, was close to him — ^until those
dark days when he knew that his political enemies had
decreed that he must die, and for the first time his great
soul was discouraged.

His personal magnetism and political acumen were so
extraordinary that men of all ages followed him like dogs,
only asking to be allowed to take orders from this bom
leader of men; and no one smiled when at the age of
twenty-nine it was known that he had said to General
Sickles, just before leaving New York for California, that
he intended to return as United States Senator. He
never admitted to cherishing a higher ambition still, but
few doubted that if he had been permitted to outlive the
Civil War he would have roimded out his career in the
White House.

Broderick was bom in the District of Columbia, Febru-
ary 4, 1820. His father was a stone-cutter, and the
marble columns that support the eastern front of the
Capitol were the work in part of the laborer whose son
was to be the first man of humble birth to invade the
aristocratic Senate chamber and force its members to
listen to him. The mason moved to New York and died
when David was fourteen, leaving him with a family to
support. He had been apprenticed to a stone-cutter, but,
being a big strong fellow and eager to take good care of
his mother and brother, he joined, when he was old
enough, the New York Volunteer Fire Company. He
soon became its most famous member. All New York
firemen are fearless, and it was not easy to win a reputa-

219

CALIFORNIA

tion for reckless bravery; but he did, his reputation en-
hanced by the ready and effective use of his fists. Before
long he was foreman of his company, and drifted naturally
into politics. To increase his influence as well as the
comforts of his family he opened two saloons, to which
his magnetic and enigmatical personality drew all the
politicians of the neighborhood.

He was a Democrat ; but, although he hated the Whigs,
he hated the aristocratic and powerful wing of his own
party far more. The "Albany Regency " of the state, and
The "Old Man's Committee" of the city, made a formi-
dable wall for any ambitious young plebeian to scale.
Nevertheless, v/hen he was twenty-one he obtained a
position in the custom-house (a mere side-issue with
him, however) through the friendship of no less a personage
than President Tyler. Jeremiah Lynch relates an inci-
dent which illustrates the daring and resource of this
remarkable young man.

. . . President Tyler had received and accepted an invitation to visit
New York City. A committee of officials, accompanied by eminent
citizens and foreign guests, embarked on a steamer to meet the Presi-
dent on the Jersey shore. Although elected as a Whig, Tyler was
coquetting with the Democrats, and so Tammany Hall also selected
a committee, or rather two committees, to tender homage to the Presi-
dent.

One committee represented the ultra-aristocratic element — for
Tammany was then respectable — and the other, also a Tarmnany selec-
tion, was made up of young men as distinct from old men; in other
words, the classes against the masses. Broderick was of the second
committee, which was expected to gaze, be humble and silent. How-
ever, the forty sachems — twenty and twenty — after disembarking from
their steamer, walked to the President's residence, and while the
mighty rich were awaiting on the lawn the President's appearance,
Broderick strode to the door alone, opened it, entered, and presently
returned with the President of the United States on his arm. Con-
ducting Tyler to the astounded group, he saluted the President and

220

BRODERICK

then said, in the same loud tones as when directing his fire-laddies at
a conflagration, "Now, then, form a circle and the President will talk
to you." For a moment no one moved, so aghast were they, until one
of the immaculates said like a philosopher, "Come, gentlemen, give
attention to the President," and Tyler delivered a short address.
After the President ceased he very naturally turned to Broderick as
the leader, and the latter, quietly taking the President's arm with an
injunction to all Knickerbockers and firemen to "form the line of
march," led the way to the landing j where the tardy boat containing
the real city committee, with its music and platoons of uniforms, had
just arrived. Here he was obliged to surrender his prisoner; and,
although President Tyler was so delighted with him that he gave him
a lucrative position in the custom-house, he made und3ang enemies
of the oligarchy he had humiliated.

His mother died when he was twenty-four; his brother
was accidentally killed. So far as he knew he was alone
in the world. But he had no leisure hours for loneliness.
When politics spared him he read and studied under the
guidance of educated men whom he had interested and
who foresaw something of his futtue. He helped to carry
his state for Polk, but his political course was not to be
run in New York. His opponents as well as his bitter
personal enemies had made up their minds that it was
time to get rid of him, and when he ran for Congress
not only the Whigs, but the Democratic oligarchy united
against him, and he was defeated. At that age he did not
know the meaning of discouragement, although he was
quite astute enough to see that he could not win against
so formidable a combination of forces. Just then came
the news of the gold discovery in California. Nearly all
his friends joined the hegira, and it was not long before
he made up his mind that the new country was the place
for him and his ambitions. He sailed via the Isthmus,
and arrived in San Francisco on June 13, 1849.

The long unsanitary journey and the usual detention

221

CALIFORNIA

in that pest-spot, the Isthmus of Panama, seriously
affected his health. He was in no condition for the mines,
and the ragged little city of San Francisco, with its hovels
and tents, its cloth and lath bunk-houses infested with
vermin, its garish gambling-houses, its unpaved streets,
knee -deep in mud in winter and sand and refuse in
simmier, alternately in a wild state of excitement and
black depression, must have looked hopeless to a young
New Yorker of twenty-nine with an enfeebled body, not
a penny in his pocket, and a colossal ambition. But he
wasted no time in regrets or despair. Whatever jobs he
could obtain to keep body and soul together he worked
at faithfully, and within a month he had a lucrative busi-
ness of his own.

Col. J. D. Stevenson, who had known him in New
York, and appreciated his caliber, lent him a thousand
dollars; in company with another New York friend
named Kohler, he opened an assay office and manu-
factured gold slugs whose intrinsic value was four or
eight dollars respectively, but readily passed as five or
ten dollar pieces, so delighted were the people to get some-
thing more convenient than gold-dust as a medium
of exchange. To this lucrative occupation the young
men added the manufacture of jewelry, and as the women
of commerce were pouring into the town the income of
the firm jumped from day to day.

Broderick soon left this business to his partner, how-
ever, for, his necessities relieved, he lost all interest in
money-making. After the first great fire he organized
a fire company on the model of the one whose foreman
he had been in New York, and his political career began
almost immediately. He was elected to the first state

222

BRODERICK

legislature in January, 1850, six months after his arrival,
and by an overwhelming majority. He was already the
best-known young politician in San Francisco, no doubt
through his manipulation of that mighty influence in
politics, the fire department; and he ruled certain wards
despite the already growing power of the Southerners.

Gwin, when he became United States Senator, obtained
the complete control of the federal appointments. Prac-
tically every office in the gift of the national Executive
was filled with Southerners, more or less aristocratic, and
the custom-house was currently known as the "Virginia
Poorhouse." But when it came to municipal politics
the Southern Democrats, astute and accomplished poli-
ticians as they were, and with the formidable strength
of imion, found a rival in this young Tammany man,
whose rise to power and distinction was quick and spec-
tacular even for that day.

During the second session Governor Burnett resigned
and was succeeded by the lieutenant - governor, John
McDougal. This left the office of president of the senate
vacant, and Broderick was elected to fill it. He was
now thirty-one, and already the most active and marked
politician in the state of which he had been a citizen for
a year and a half. As a presiding officer he won enco-
miums even from his enemies, of which he already had a
full crop; he had acquired somewhere a thorough knowl-
edge of parliamentary law, and he always applied his
faculties to the matter in hand with that power of con-
centration inseparable from minds born to dominate.

Those were tiu*bulent days in the itinerary capital of
the state, as in San Francisco. The austerity and dig-
nity of Broderick 's character would have dictated an

15 223

CALIFORNIA

unswerving attitude of lofty detachment. But the youth
in him made his fists as ready as ever,. and even senators
appeared in the chamber bristling about the hips, al-
though they immediately transferred both pistols and
bowie-knife to the desk in front of them! Sometimes
these were pushed aside by their feet or obscured by
tobacco-smoke, or mayhap they fell into the spittoon;
but they never were wholly forgotten. In those days
politics were taken far more personally than now, and
every man was ready to defend his party with his fists
or the more deadly weapon, as with every resource of his
brain. Broderick got into more than one fight, and had his
duel. He soon proved his mettle, and, although courage
and coolness were not overvalued in a community where
the coward hardly existed long enough to prove the rule,
still a few exhibitions of both were useful in placing a
man once for all.

After the adjournment of the legislature Broderick
remembered that the ambition of his life was to be a
Senator of the United States. He Tammanyized San
Francisco, and returned a large number of his friends and
supporters to the next legislature. There his name was
proposed to succeed Fremont, whose place had been
vacant since March ist of the previous year. The vote
he received, although not sufficient to elect him, demon-
strated his growing power.

John B. Weller was elected; and Broderick, nothing
daunted, began to work for the vacancy which would
occur at the expiration of Gwin's term in March, 1855.

He had three years to lay his senatorial wires, and
meanwhile he was a member of the first Vigilance Com-
mittee, helped to put out the fires that ravaged the city,

224

BRODERICK

and invested in water-lots the money he had made in
slugs and jewelry, an investment that made him a rich
man. He seems to have had little personal use for
money, for he lived simply, rarely frequenting the society
even of men, spending all his spare hours in study, and
further improving his mind with what literature there was
in the state. But he had much use for gold in his political
organizations, and he not only made it as rapidly as he
could, but he impressed more and more men that had it
into his service. In addition to his political ambitions,
recognized by all, he cherished a desire to become San
Francisco's most energetic and useful citizen; and, al-
though he had to share this honor with such men as
William T. Coleman, San Francisco owed many of its
improvements and public buildings to his inspiration.
It was about this time that he discarded the familiar blue
shirt, "pants" tucked into his boots, and silk hat worn
far back; the last so distinctive of leading citizens.
He sent to New York for the dignified apparel of the
truly eminent and respectable, and for the rest of his life
was rarely seen save in a "boiled" shirt and black frock-
coat and trousers. The silk hat alone was retained.

Always reserved and dignified, he grew more so, more
and more averse from talking about himself and his
plans save when it was necessary to take associates or
henchmen into his confidence. He must have been an
imposing figure in those unsartorial days, and I would
that he had looked less like a reissue of the Neanderthal
race; but the preternaturally long upper lip, the tight
mouth with the ruff of hair below, may have had some-
thing to do with the absence of those temptations exerted
by the fair sex — in spite of his wonderful eyes, keen,

225

CALIFORNIA

penetrating, glittering like ice. I would also that, as an
admirer of this remarkable and unhappy man, I could
record that his political ways were above reproach, as
white and open and innocuous as politics one day may be,
when in their coffin; but there is little doubt that he
employed base tools and that his methods were too often
devious and without scruple.

On the other hand, and for the same reason — ^that he
was a great, not a little, politician — ^no man questioned
his word; he never broke a promise — save in the case of
Latham — and he was as tender of his friends' interests as
of his own, as eager to reward as Gwin himself. But the
ideal half of his rapidly developing intellect was at war
with the practical brain that made use of life as he found
it ; and while this saddened him and made him one of the
loneliest men that ever lived, he realized that life was too
short for one man to reform it and achieve something of
his mighty ambitions at the same time.

Sheriff, district attorney, alderman, tax-collector, as-
sessor, all were his, and the price was half their gains —
nothing was said of mere salaries — to be handed over to
the political organization through which Broderick ruled
San Francisco. He gave the city a party system, how-
ever imperfect, but he did not interfere in local affairs.
The dirty work, the ballot-box stuffing, the bullies at the
polls, these he shut his eyes to. He needed an organiza-
tion for his tdtimate purpose, but with its details he
would not pollute his mind.

He never descended to jobbery, his personal record was
above reproach, and he disbtirsed money with a large
hand, excusing his followers from contributions for
bands, halls, or any of the expensive paraphernalia of

?26

BRODERICK

elections. He stood alone like royalty, and money was
merely one of his slaves to be used for the benefit of the
faithful.

It is a curious and interesting fact that Broderick from
the first succeeded by sheer ability, for he had not a grace
of manner, nor tact, nor policy. To his followers he was
an autocrat, and he treated his enemies with open
contempt.

Gwin's term was to expire March i, 1855 ; Weller's two
years later. To the legislature assembling in January,
1855, would fall the duty of electing Gwin's successor.
But that was a mere matter of custom and precedent.
Broderick had other plans.

He was sure of the legislature of 1854. He was too
perfectly equipped a politician not to discount the un-
known as far as was humanly possible. He determined
that the present legislature should snap its fingers at
precedent and elect Gwin's successor.

Some of the Broderick forces were distiurbed at this
bold affront to custom, for the politician heart is normally
conservative; but they rallied to a man. It was Brod-
erick or anti-Broderick. His word was law. Obey or
leave.

The other forces also rallied, the followers of Gwin, of
Weller, those whose personal ambitions Broderick threat-
ened, those who opposed him on principle. His first
move was to have the migratory capital definitely located
in Sacramento ; and so capttued the votes of members of
that ambitious community, and of its near-by farmers and
ranchers. Then his friends and henchmen proceeded to
corrupt the enemy, and there was a scandal that threat-
ened disaster at the outset. A San Francisco banker ap-

227

CALIFORNIA

proached an incorruptible, who caught the next boat for
Sacramento to tell the story; and it took the combined
brains of Hall McAllister, Stephen J. Field, and S. H.
Williams to extricate the banker.

The assembly was Broderick's by a large majority,
but in the house the forces were almost evenly divided.
The bill was on the table for two months. Two Broder-
ick men took an otherwise unconquerable foe out for a
drive and ditched him. He was unhurt but thoughtful.
There was to be no pairing. Each man was to do his
own voting. There was a senator from Santa Clara
named Grewell, recently a clergyman. His convictions
were not iron-clad, and it was known that he had been
approached; he was locked up and closely guarded.
Broderick held himself haughtily aloof, but the excite-
ment grew more intense every moment. Insults, fights,
duels, sessions in which men used their firearms to gestic-
ulate with — San Francisco had a gallant rival in Sacra-
mento.

Grewell, who appears to have listened, at least, when
offered a round sum for his vote by a Broderick agent,
was kidnapped first by one side and then by the other,
finally taking refuge of his free will in the Broderick
headquarters. The bill came up in the assembly and
passed by a vote of forty to thirty-eight. The assem-
bly adjourned to witness the struggle in the senate.
There the excitement was so intense that even Broderick
was affected and found it impossible to preserve his air
of cold detachment. But Grewell was produced and,
voting with the Broderick forces, the result was a tie.
The president of the senate cast his vote for Broderick,
and on one side of the chamber the cheering made the

228

BRODERICK

ramshackle building tremble on its foundations. No-
body questioned that Broderick had won, that the elec-
tion of the next Senator of the United States would take
place in this his session. But that night the kidnapped
was kidnapped again, while his keeper slept the sleep that
knows no awakening until whisky fumes have run their
course. On the following day he voted for a reconsidera-
tion, which was carried by a vote of eighteen to fifteen.
Then the senate voted that the subject be indefinitely
postponed. Broderick had lost. Such were politics in
California in the year of our Lord 1854.

XVI

BRODERICK AND GWIN

But Broderick was not crushed, not for a moment.
It was a bitter disappointment to lose the prize that
he actually had fondled in his hand ; but he immediately
went to work to get possession of the next legislature.
His opponents, however, were equally active. They
were thoroughly alarmed. So far, whatever Broderick's
power in San Francisco, the state belonged to the Chivalry
Democrats — "Chivs" in affection or scorn — and they
were bitterly opposed to Broderick, both because he was
not of their class and far more because he was a vehe-
ment antislavery man. Nor was this merely a mental
attitude of Broderick's. He — and his great following —
had voted down a bill against the immigration of free
negroes as well as a fugitive-slave bill. Moreover,
Broderick had denounced Stephen A. Douglas's indorse-
ment of squatter sovereignty in Nebraska. But if this
uncompromising attitude solidified the proslavery party
against him, it attracted to his standard all that were
opposed to slavery on principle and all that had begun
to think for themselves. In short, he typified the anti-
slave sentiment of the state.

The state Democratic convention assembled in Sacra-
mento in July, 1854. Broderick as chairman of the state
committee arranged the preliminaries. He hired the

230

BRODERICK AND GWIN

First Baptist Church in Fourth Street and directed his
followers to enter by a rear door an hour before the con-
vention opened and occupy the front seats. The Op-
position were welcome to the back of the room, where they
might see or hear or attract attention as Providence willed.

But the Opposition was not asleep. It now numbered
representatives of every faction opposed to Broderick,
eager for the fray and determined to extinguish him.
They had their spies in the enemy's camp. Knowing
also that Edward McGowan had been selected by Brod-
erick to preside at the convention, they resolved upon
former Governor McDougal, and upon a list for the com-
mittee on credentials and organization.

They reached the front door of the church just as the
Broderick cohorts were about to enter by the rear.
Thirty men, including David S. Terry, surroimded
McDougal, forced the door, and ran down the aisle tow-
ard the platform. The Broderick men, who had now
swarmed in, attempted to head them off, but, although
the afterward notorious James Casey and Billy Mulligan
were there to use their fists, the Opposition forces managed
to secure as many front seats as the Broderickites. The
tension may be imagined.

Broderick walked on to the rostrum from the rear door,
looking more granite than hirnian, and called the con-
vention tc order. (The word order must have been a
standing joke in the fifties.) The moment he had uttered
the necessary formalities a man named O'Meara sprang
to his feet and nominated McDougal for president of
the convention. But simultaneously a Broderick man
was on his feet (if, indeed, he had sat down) nominating
McGowan. Broderick said peremptorily:

231

CALIFORNIA

"I nominate the gentleman from Santa Clara. The
seat of the other is contested, and I will not recognize him."

There were loud and indignant protests. Broderick
ignored them and put the question on the nomination of
McGowan. The other side indulged in a similar formality
and carried the nomination of McDougal. Both nominees
were rushed wildly to the platform by their friends.
Pandemonium broke loose. Screaming, and brandishing
fists and pistols, both sides struggled to get close to their
men. A pistol went off. Three of the most excitable but
less war-like delegates bolted through a stained-glass
window. Another shrieked that he could feel blood
running down inside his "pants." He was carried out
fainting and quite whole.

In spite of the confusion the two candidates managed
to reach the platform simultaneously. They seated
themselves side by side, and while glaring at each other
shouted the names of their vice-presidents. Pushing and
jostling, tripped and elbow-ribbed, these dignitaries also
reached the rostrum and seated themselves beside their
winded superiors. Then two sets of committees were
appointed, and when they had shouted themselves
hoarse two sets of reports were made. Then everybody
for another hour tried to make a speech, of which the only
words distinguishable were "bolting" and "treachery."
No doubt there were others which the polite stenographer
omitted. But there were wild accusations of every sort.
The men shouted, snarled, sprang on their chairs, bran-
dished their fists, made megaphones of their hands, or tried
to look oratorical.

It was quite impossible to accomplish any business.
Broderick merely sat like a rock, hardly looking to the

2^2

BRODERICK AND GWiN

right or the left, but conveying the impression that so he
could sit until the end of time. The clergyman and trus-
tees, alarmed finally at the noise, entered and asked the
statesmen to leave. They were invited to go about their
business. However, they refused lamps. Darkness had
fallen. Some one produced two candles, lighted them,
and placed one in front of each president. '■

At nine o'clock everybody was tired out. Both sides,
which had consistently opposed adjournment, suddenly
compromised. The two presidents locked arms and walked
down the center aisle. The candidates for the vice-presi-
dency followed, side by side; then the delegates, also
paired, joined the stately procession. The church was re-
stored to the trembling pastor.

Really, women, when they are sufficiently enfranchised
to hold conventions, may be no better than men, but they
hardly can be worse.

■ This uproar, part of the time in almost total darkness,
had lasted five hours. Only once had Broderick been at-
tacked personally. A man sprang to the platform and
brandished a pistol in his face. "Take care!" said
Broderick. "Take care! That might go off and hurt
somebody." As the man's jaw fell Broderick gently
captured the pistol and placed it on the table. His mere
personality had conquered, as often before, and the man
slunk to the back of the church.

The next day the two parties held separate conventions
and made their nominations for the coming state elec-
tions. Both put up strong men, and so did the Whigs.
On election day, September 6th, Broderick once more was
beaten.

In San Francisco on that day a characteristic incident

233

CALIFORNIA

took place. There were the usual bullies and fist-fights at
the polls. Broderick and Colonel Peyton met when about
to vote, and the "Chiv," already heated by several alter-
cations, immediately burst into speech and informed the
Tammany man what he thought of him. Finally Peyton
made a significant movement toward his hip pocket.
Broderick had his right hand in his overcoat pocket, and
he fixed the temperamental Southerner with his cold and
glittering eye.

"Move, Colonel Peyton," said he, "and you are a dead
man."

Peyton knew what that meant : Broderick had a der-
ringer in his concealed hand. His own hand remained
suspended. Broderick continued in those cold incisive
tones for which he was famous :

"There is no need for us to kill each other or to have
any personal difficulty. Let us take a boat out on the
bay or a walk under the trees and talk this matter over.
If we cannot agree then I am ready to fight to the death.
Come on."

Peyton nodded, and the two men walked out the Mis-
sion road. When they returned they were arm in arm.
And they were friends for life. Possibly if Broderick
had yielded oftener to the impulse to be conciliatory he
would have won many supporters as well as admirers
from the ranks of both the Whigs and the Chivs.

Among Broderick's followers were men of the highest
probity, and one of them finally remonstrated with him
for employing pugilists and bullies to smround the polls.
"You respectable people I cannot depend upon," replied
the chief. "You won't go down and face the revolvers
of the other side, and I have to take such material as I

234

BRODERICK AND GWIN

can get hold of. They stuff ballot-boxes and steal the
tally-lists, and I have to keep these men to aid me."

Once more Broderick was undismayed and began to
lay a new set of senatorial wires. Gwin, whose term
expired in March, wished to succeed himself. The
legislature convened in January. Broderick knew that
he cotdd not be elected by it, during its first session at
all events. But neither should Gwin. The great leader
of the Chivalry Democrats had more than a majority of
the Democratic members, but far from a majority of all
the members put together. His only hope was to induce
the Democrats to go into caucus; as the caucus nominee
he would be assured of election as his own successor.

Broderick organized his forces and prevented the
caucus. The entire session was frittered away. At its
end neither Gwin nor any one had been elected. Brod-
erick had persuaded a sufficient number of the legislators
that he and his party represented the genuine Democracy.
Gwin was far weaker than at the beginning of the term.

But there was another enemy in the field. The Whig
party in the United States had been wrecked by the de-
feat of Gen. Winfield Scott for the Presidency in 1852.
Almost simultaneously that party of short but vigorous
life known first as the American and then as the "Know-
nothing" party (owing to its reticence) sprang into exist-
ence. Its leading principles were well enough known:
opposition to foreigners and foreign immigration (mean-
ing principally the Irish), and to the Catholic Church.
They absorbed the greater number of the Whigs and
many of the disgruntled Democrats, and in 1854 they
had multiplied in California. In 1855 they held their
first state convention in Sacramento, After the fashion

235

CALIFORNIA

of political parties, they promised all good things, and
nominated John Neely Johnson for governor, Hugh
Murray and David S. Terry for justices of the Supreme
Bench. They carried their ticket in September, and it
looked as if the Broderick power was broken in California.
From the following it will be seen that they used strong
language, but nothing else in those days made much
impression:

Evil has followed evil, and calamity has followed calamity, until
the young state which yesterday filled the world with renown to-day
lies bankrupt, crime-ridden, and abject.

Not that they were so far wrong.

But Broderick did not know the meaning of defeat.
During the session of 1856 he again prevented the ap-
pointment of Gwin's successor, as there was no hope
during that legislature for himself. In 1857 the Demo-
crats, imited against the Whigs and the Know-nothings
and the new RepubHcan party, were once more in power.
Broderick had made capital of every weak point, and
recaptured the recalcitrant members of his own party,
visiting them all over the state. It was the year of
the presidential election — Buchanan and Breckinridge
on the Democratic ticket, Fremont and Dayton on the
Republican, Fillmore and Donaldson on the Know-
nothing. Buchanan and Breckinridge were elected. The
other parties were prostrated. Broderick ruled in Cali-
fornia.

But he no longer purposed to be Gwin's successor in
that United States Senate of his unswerving ambition.
Two years of Gwin's term were gone. Weller's term
would expire in March, 1857. His successor would have
a full term in the Senate.

i236

BRODERICK AND GWIN

Nor would Broderick permit the legislature to act ac-
cording to precedent and elect Gwin's successor first.
He intended to enjoy this advantage himself, and then
indicate his confrere at his leisure, or when the moment
was ripe. He found that he lacked two of a majority,
and for these he must recruit in the ranks of the con-
testing men — Gwin, Weller, and Milton S. Latham. He
entered into a deal with Latham promising him Gwin's
place if he would secure the needed number of votes.
The Democrats went into caucus, decided to waive prece-
dent, and elect Broderick for the long term. On January
9th Broderick was elected, receiving seventy-nine votes
against seventeen cast for the Know-nothing candidate
and fourteen for the Republican. He had achieved his
ambition, and would leave California in February to
take his seat in the Senate of the United States.

He was determined upon a colleague whom he could
rule. Latham was not of a malleable disposition. For
the first and only time in his career Broderick broke his
word. He exalted the great national issue — slavery —
above an election promise. Knowing Gwin's consuming
ambition, he determined to use it for his own ends.
Gwin cared more, he believed, for his position as a United
States Senator and his social life in Washington than he
did for abstract principles or even for federal patronage.
Then occurred one of the most memorable, not to say
melo-dramatic incidents in California history.

The caucus, after ineffectual balloting over Gwin's suc-
cessor, adjourned until Monday. Sacramento snatched
a few hours' sleep. Then they were on the streets again,
men of all parties, excited, as usual, betting, arguing; street-
comers blocked, saloons packed with men keeping up their

237

CALIFORNIA

courage and mere physical stamina. On Sunday the ex-
citement was at fever-heat : Monday and the convening
of the legislatiu-e seemed insupportably remote.

Gwin was staying at the Orleans Hotel. At midnight
he enveloped himself in a long black cloak, pulled a black
slouch-hat far down over his face, and stole out of the
back door of his hotel. Sacramento was poorly lighted.
He found little difficulty in avoiding the groups "swap-
ping" stories of political trickeries, wound his tortuous
way through dark and narrow alleys (full of refuse and
cats), and reached the rear entrance of Broderick's head-
quarters in the Magnolia Hotel. A henchman of the
great chief was waiting for the Old Roman, and escorted
him up-stairs. By this time Broderick's manners could
be almost as good as Gwin's, when he chose, although
never as suave. He greeted his visitor with the kindly
courtesy of a monarch about to sign the death-warrant,
bade him be seated, and waved his minions from the room.
The two were not long coming to terms. Gwin con-
sented to give up the patronage of the Pacific coast, and
Broderick assured him that he, and not Latham, should
accompany him to Washington. Gwin then wrote the
document afterward to be known as the "scarlet letter,"
and stole back as he had come.

He was elected. Once more Sacramento and San
Francisco seethed with stories of political rottenness and
shameful compacts. Broderick's double triumph and
the haughty "Chiv's " abasement were shouted from the
housetops. But nothing could be proved at that time.
Gwin, upon his return to San Francisco, gave a banquet,
and many of the invited declined. On the other hand,
Broderick was received with a tremendous ovation. In

238

BRODERICK AND GWIN

matters of bribery and corruption you must give, not
receive.

The two men went as far as New York together ami-
cably enough. Gwin hastened to Washington to whisper
into the presidential ear and rally his social forces in the
Senate. Broderick remained in his old city for several
days, receiving another ovation from his former political
associates, who were jubilant over their old leader's rapid
fulfilment of his notorious ambition.

In Washington, where he was bom, he was received
like a conquering hero. He was picturesque; he came
to them from the most romantic state in the Union.
Only six years before had he gone to it a poor boy, and
in less than a year he had dominated it; he had been
bom on the soil of his ultimate goal. No one questioned
that he was a man of extraordinary abilities, of genius.
Gwin was coldly received. The particulars of his deal
with the enemy were unknown, but rumors had preceded
him. Broderick was the hero of the hour, and Gwin
took his seat among averted faces.

But Broderick was not bom to a bed of roses. His
troubles at the capital of the nation began immediately.
Whether or not Gwin had any intention of keeping his
midnight pledges to Broderick in return for the toga,
no one but Gwin himself ever knew; but it is a mat-
ter of history that he had Buchanan's ear, and that the
new President took a profound dislike to the indepen-
dent young Senator from California, treated him with in-
sulting coldness, even during his first visit to the White
House, and commanded him to put into writing all his
requests for federal patronage. This was unprecedented,
and Broderick left the Executive's presence enraged, and
16 239

CALIFORNIA

inspired with his first doubts of Gwin's good faith. Of
course, he had made the usual campaign promises, and
it was doubtful if he could keep any of them. As a
matter of fact, merely to save appearances, he received a
few crumbs, in themselves an insult. The whole loaves,
as before, went to Gwin.

Broderick became the President's bitterest enemy in
Congress, although he observed the etiquette of the
Senate and made no attempt to speak during his first
session. He maintained a semblance of friendliness with
Gwin, and told no one of the secret compact. Not yet
was he wholly convinced of his colleague's treachery,
nor was he in the habit of betraying confidences.

He went to California before the session was finished
to look after his political interests ; his enemies were active,
as usual. But he was in his seat when the Thirty-fifth
Congress opened in December, and the lid flew off the
volcano shortly afterward.

The question agitating the country was the internal
condition of Kansas and its momentous relationship to
the balance of power between the North and the South.
Kansas became a territory in 1854. Stephen A. Douglas,
Senator from Illinois, had injected a clause into the ter-
ritorial act providing that the question of slavery in the
new territory should be determined by a vote of its
citizens. There was an immediate rush into Kansas of
emigrants from slave and free states, and the result was
a condition bordering upon civil war. United States
troops were called in to preserve the peace. Ultimatelj''
two legislatiu'es were chosen. The one representing anti-
slavery was dispersed by the United States marshal in
January, 1857. The proslavery legislature then con-

240

BRODERICK AND GWIN

vened and provided for a constitutional convention,
which met in September of the same year at Lecompton
and framed a proslavery constitution. The antislavery
party refused to vote for delegates, maintaining that the
legislature which called the convention was an illegal
body. Nor would they go to the polls when the con-
stitutional question was submitted to the people. On
December 2Sth, therefore, that famous firebrand known
as the Lecompton Constitution was elected by a large
majority. But there had been, meanwhile, another elec-
tion and another legislature. This body submitted the
Lecompton Constitution to the popular vote in January,
1858, and it was rejected by a vast majority.

But when Kansas made her application for statehood
to the Congress of 1857-58 it was with the Lecompton
or proslavery constitution in her hand. Buchanan, who
was a Northern man with proslavery sympathies, fa-
vored the constitution which would make Kansas a slave
state, and urged Congress to ratify it. The result was
an immediate split in the Democratic party, Douglas at
the head of one faction, Buchanan of the other. The
Senate passed the bill with the Lecompton Constitution,
but the House rejected it and demanded a substitute
bill, which the Senate rejected. Ultimately a new bill
was adopted by both Houses which provided that the
Lecompton Constitution should be submitted to the peo-
ple of Kansas for a third time. This was done, and once
more it was overwhelmingly defeated. That settled the
question as far as Kansas was concerned, but the Demo-
cratic party was now divided into two factions, calling
themselves Lecomptons and anti-Lecomptons. The last
drifted slowly toward the new Republican party.

241

CALIFORNIA

Broderick, always opposed to slavery, gave all his sup-
port toDouglas. Gwin, naturally, came out for the President.

It was during the session of 1857-58 that Broderick
distinguished himself and forced the most indifferent and
hostile to admit his great abilities and recognize him as
one of the inevitable forces in national affairs. He never
became a polished speaker, but he possessed a pointed
vocabulary and a power of invective that must have made
the President writhe many times, unless, to be sure,
Presidents are case-hardened long before they reach the
4th of March. Broderick controlled the minority, and
dictated the filibustering tactics calculated most to annoy
the Executive as well as the proslavery party. By this
time he had done far more than win admiration for his
gifts; he enjoyed the complete confidence of his own
faction. His poise, courage, stable equilibrium, and
power of quick clear thinking lifted him in Washington
as in New York and California to the leadership of men.
And as a notable figure in that greatest of all arenas he
soon attracted the attention of the American people as a
whole. His brilliant arraignments of the President, the
public scalpel he applied to that unfortimate official's
weak spots, delighted the enemies of the government and
focused upon him the attention of men of all shades of
political opinion. He became known as one of the
strongest and most useful — or most dangerous — anti-
slavery men in public life. Had he been permitted to live
there is little doubt that he would have become a candi-
date for the presidency after Lincoln's death; and his
party by that time was the only one worth considering
in the coimtry: the anti-Lecomptons were then calling
themselves Republicans.

242

BRODERICK AND GWIN

Mr. Jeremiah Lynch gives a number of extracts from the
first of Broden'ck's speeches which attracted wide atten-
tion. It was also his first long speech. The body of it
was devoted to a scathing attack on the President for
urging another slave state upon Congress. Then he ana-
lyzed the slavery enactments of Congress from the Mis-
souri Compromise of 1820, quoting the eminent champions
on either side, down to the Lecompton agitation.

How foolish [he concluded] for the South to hope to contend with
success in such an encounter! Slavery is old, decrepit, consumptive.
Freedom is young, strong, vigorous. The one is naturally stationary
and loves ease. The other is migrating and enterprising. . . . They
say that Cotton is King. No sir. Gold is King! [He was the first of the
great modems to put this painful fact into concrete form and fling it
into the public teeth.] I represent a state where labor is honorable;
where the judge has left his bench, the lawyer and doctor their offices,
and the clergyman his pulpit, for the purpose of delving into the earth;
where there is no station so high and no position so great that its
occupant is not proud to boast that he labored with his hands. [This, it
must be remembered, was flung into the face of an aristocratic oli-
garchy.] There is no state in the Union, no place on earth, where
labor is so honored and so well rewarded; no time and no place since
the Almighty doomed the sons of Adam to toil, where the curse, if it
be a curse, rests so lightly as now upon the people of California.

Some haughty slave-owner in a choleric moment had
applied the disagreeable term "mud-sills" to the laboring-
class of the North. It may be imagined that the growl
of the proletariat was deep and loud, and that the anti-
slavery leaders dyed red this rag of speech and waved
it aloft.

I suppose the Senator from South Carolina [continued Broderick,
alluding to the unhappy inventor of the classic] did not intend to be
personal in his remarks to any of his peers on the floor. If I had
thought so I would have noticed it at that time. I am, sir, with one
exception the youngest in years of the Senators upon this floor. It is
not long since I served an apprenticeship of five years at one of the

243

CALIFORNIA

tnost laborious trades pursued by man, a trade that from its nature
devotes its follower to thought, but debars him from conversation.
I would not have alluded to this if it were not for the remarks of the
Senator from South Carolina, and that thousands who know that I
am the son of an artisan and have been a mechanic would feel disap-
pointed in me if I did not reply to him. I am not proud of this. I
am sorry it is true. I would that I could have enjoyed the pleasures
of life in my boyhood days, but they were denied me, I say this with
pain. I have not the admiration for the men of that class whence I
sprang that might be expected; they submit too tamely to oppression,
and are too prone to neglect their rights and duties as citizens. But,
sir, the class of society to whose toil I was bom, under our form of
government, will control the destinies of the nation. [Once more it
may be pointed out that this speech was made in 1858, not in 19 14].
If I were inclined to forget my connection with them, or to deny
that I sprang from them, this chamber would not be the place in
which I could do either.' While I hold a seat here I have but to look
at the beautiful capitals adorning the pilasters that support the roof
to be reminded of my father's talent and handiwork.

I left the scenes of my youth for the West because I was tired of
the jealousies and struggles of men of my class, who could not under-
stand why one of their fellows should seek to elevate his position above
the common level. I made my new abode among strangers where
labor is honored. I had left without regrets. There remained no tie
of blood to bind me to any being in existence. If I fell in the struggle
for reputation and fortune there was no relative on earth to mourn my
fall.

Then, after a brief but pungent account of his political
career in California, he once more paid his respects to the
President.

I hope, sir, that in mercy to the boasted intelligence of this age the
historian, when writing of these times, will ascribe this attempt of the
Executive to force this constitution on an unwiUing people, to the
fading intellect, the petulant passion, and the trembling dotage of an
old man on the verge of the grave.

During this session of Congress Broderick secured the
passage of several measures important to California,
energetically advocating an overland railroad ; and if he

244

BRODERICK AND GWIN

could not secure the federal plums for his friends, he at
least managed to extract much of their flavor.

Gwin was seldom in his seat, Broderick as seldom
absent. The junior Senator introduced a bill to decrease
the salaries of California officials, paid out of the treasury,
stating and proving that the cost of living in the new state
which had been responsible for their high salaries in the
beginning was now altogether normal. The bill passed,
and there was gnashing of teeth in the Virginia Poor-
house and elsewhere. Broderick's enemies became bit-
terer than ever, but he lost few of his friends in Cali-
fornia in spite of his inability to keep his election promises.
When the legislatiire of California instructed her two
Senators in Washington to vote for the Lecompton con-
stitution Broderick put himself on record without delay.

The resolutions introduced by my colleague [he said] will have no
influence upon my action here now nor in the future. I am satisfied
that four-fifths of the people in California repudiate the Lecompton
fraud.

When he returned to California he found that his anti-
slavery principles, avowed in the Senate of the United
States, had cost him his Southern following in the Demo-
cratic party, and that even his Northern friends were
inclined to think him premature in his belief that war
between the two factions was inevitable. And this was
only three years before the war !

During this interval between sessions Broderick left
politics alone, made money in real estate, and qualified
at the bar. Nevertheless, a disturbing incident happened.
He had confided to W. I. Ferguson, the intermediary who
arranged the midnight interview between himself and
Gwin, that compromising sheet soon to be known as the

245

CALIFORNIA

"scarlet letter." Few people knew of its existence.
Ferguson was what used to be known as a young man of
brilliant parts. He was making a career for himself and
had attracted attention by a speech in the antagonistic
legislature of 1858 in favor of Douglas and Broderick,
scoring the President. Soon after, while in San Francisco,
a Buchanan Democrat involved him in a political dispute
— no difficult matter in those days — ^and challenged him
to a duel. Ferguson imderstood; he was to be killed as
a warning to Broderick and because the enemy was
determined to obtain possession of the letter. His antag-
onist was a practised duelist. He was a novice. He
confided the letter to another friend of Broderick's and
went out to be shot. Four balls ended his career.

The Southern element that controlled the President
was opposed to an overland railroad, as it would terminate
on free soil. If the road must be built, then they de-
manded that it lie below the parallel 36° 30', that line being
the accepted division between slavery and freedom in the
Western states and territories. Moreover, it must stop
at California's state line; if the Calif omians wished to
extend it to San Francisco they could build the extra
five himdred miles themselves. But far better no railroad
at all.

Broderick was the first to advocate the forty-first par-
allel, and he was one of the most energetic advocates of
building a railroad at once to connect the two oceans*
When he returned to Washington for the last time he
traveled overland by the new stage route. It was a jour-
ney of forty-seven days to St. Joseph, and at every city
and hamlet Broderick not only learned that the demand
for a railroad was practically unanimous, but that the

246

BRODERICK AND GWIN

country relied upon him to carry this great project through.
He was thus enabled to speak in the Senate with first-
hand knowledge. As a direct result he was dropped
from the Committee on Public Lands, and his enemies
were more definitely arrayed against him than before;
they also had increased in numbers.

He was opposed in every niewspaper, insulted at every
turn, baited, derided, made to feel that he stood alone
with his back to the wall. Not for nothing might a
yovmg Senator from a far Western state dare to oppose
slavery, advocate free labor, denounce corrupt Indian
agents, jobbery by postmasters and revenue collectors,
demand a reform and retrenchment in public affairs, and
propose a transcontinental railway in the teeth of feudal
lords who knew the value of slow communication and
painful costly travel.

In California the federal and state officials combined
to drag him down. He was a dangerous man, therefore
a marked man. Besides, too much success through per-
sonal effort always goes against the grain. More and
more were the enemies' ranks recruited. In Washington
even Douglas was afraid to stand by him openly, fearing
for his own political fortunes. Probably no man of high
ability has ever stood so completely alone in the United
States Senate. . He knew the fearful odds against him,
that a combination was forming to force him out of polit-
ical life, by men that had perfect faith in the continued
power of the Southern faction — if not too severely threat-
ened by such men as Broderick — but who hated him with
a hatred bom of fear not only personal, but of the rising
Republican party, to which Broderick in all but name
now belonged. It is possible that he forecast his death

247

CALIFORNIA

even before there was a definite plot to kill him. Living,
he would have fought on without quailing, and, as events
shaped, would have seen his principles win and no doubt
have achieved his highest ambitions. He brushed several
attempts to challenge him contemptuously aside, but he
knew that sooner or later he must fight to the death.

XVII

THE BRODERICK-TERRY DUEL

In 1859, after the adjournment of Congress, Gwin
and Broderick hastened to California, the junior Senator
to rally the state to the anti-Lecompton standard, the
older and more subtle man to win it to the support of
Lecomptonism and the administration.

There were tremendous Lecompton and anti-Lecomp-
ton meetings all over the state, and Broderick took the
stump for the first time. Horace Greeley, visiting Cali-
fornia during this agitation, advised the anti-Lecomp-
tonites to join forces with the new Republican party and
against proslavery Democracy. Broderick called him-
self a Democrat tmtil the day of his death; but, although
he did not live to see the fusion accomplished, he must
stand in the history of California as the first great Re-
publican of the state.

It was a season of uncommon political excitement, not
only because men were involved. The slavery question,
pro and anti, was reaching its acute stage even in Cali-
fornia. But the sensation of the campaign was Brod-
erick's long - reserved opinion of Gwin. He denounced
him with a cold fury of invective never surpassed by him-
self. At Shasta he read aloud from the platform the
"scarlet letter," and gave it to the press. Here it is:

249

CALIFORNIA

Sacramento City, January ii, 1857.
Hon. D. C. Broderick.

Dear Sir, — I am likely to be the victim of unparalleled treachery
of those who have been placed in power by my aid and exertion.

The most potential portion of the federal patronage is in the
hands of those who, by every principle that should govern men of
honor, should be my supporters instead of my enemies, and it is being
used for my destruction. My participation in the distribution in this
patronage has been the source of numberless slanders upon me that
have fostered a prejudice in the public mind against me and have
created enmities that have been destructive to my happiness for
years. It has entailed untold evils upon me, and while in the Senate
I will not recommend a single individual to appointment to office in
the state. Provided I am elected, you shall have the exclusive control
of this patronage, so far as I am concerned; and in its distribution I
shall only ask that it may be used with magnanimity, and not for the
advantage of those who have been our mutual enemies and unwearied
in their efforts to destroy us.

This determination is unalterable; and in making this declaration
I do not expect you to support me for that reason, or in any way to
be governed by it; but, as I have been betrayed by those who should
have been my friends, I am in a measure powerless and depend upon
your magnanimity.

Very respectfully, your obedient servant,

Wm. M. Gwin.

In spite of verbiage and pretense there was no mistak-
ing the real character of this letter. Moreover, it was
equally obvious that Gwin had not kept his part of the
shameful bargain. He took to the stump himself and
denounced the letter as a "cowardly lie." But if any
one doubted its authorship or that Ferguson had been
killed to get possession of it, uncertainty vanished after
hearing the two men speak. Gwin had little power of
oratory, even of the old-fashioned sort, and he lacked the
force in speaking that carries conviction; in this case he
lacked the righteous indignation. Broderick, cold, im-
placable, rarely indulging in gestures or play of facial

250

THE BRODERICK-TERRY DUEL

muscle, and with a ringing sledge-hammer logic, never
failed to convince people of his sincerity, however much
he might antagonize or even infuriate.

He knew that his death must have been resolved upon,
and he expected a challenge from Gwin. But either the
stately Southern Senator moved too slowly or it was agreed
in council that the honor should be relegated to another.

David S. Terry, who so narrowly escaped leaving Fort
Gunnybags by the second-story window, could be trusted
to spout fire upon a moment's notice. He was a violent
proslavery man and Lecompton Democrat (the Know-
nothing party being defunct), and had always been
among the most fervent of Broderick's political oppo-
nents. At one time the two men must have been personal
friends, for when Terry was incarcerated by the Vigilance
Committee Broderick supported newspapers in his de-
fense. But that was as long ago as 1856. Three whole
years had passed. For San Francisco and the fifties that
was a generation.

In 1859 he was a candidate for renomination to the
Supreme Bench. Before the convention he delivered
himself of his present opinion of the jimiorSenator from
California.

They — ^the anti-Lecompton party — are a miserable remnant of a
faction sailing under false colors, trying to obtain votes under false
pretenses. They are the followers of one man, the personal chattels
of a single individual whom they are ashamed of. They belong heart
and soul, body and breeches, to David C. Broderick. They are yet
ashamed to acknowledge their master and are calling themselves, for-
sooth, Douglas Democrats, when it is known that the gallant Senator
from Illinois has no affiliation with them. Perhaps, Mr. President, I
am mistaken in denying their right to claim Douglas as their leader,
but it is the barmer of the black Douglas, whose name is Frederick,
not Stephen,

251

CALIFORNIA

Broderick did not like this speech. Personally, I never
read anything more childish, but it is truly said that no
man is sane during a political campaign; which means,
no doubt, that the blood — poisoned blood, at that — is in
the head all the time. A few days later Broderick was
breakfasting at the International Hotel in San Francisco,
surrounded by a number of people. He suddenly turned
to a man named Perley and said, biting out his words:

"I see that your friend Terry has been abusing me in
Sacramento."

"Ah?" said Perley. "How so?"

Then Broderick, whose magnificent self-control had
been strained to the breaking-point by the long campaign
in the face of almost certain defeat, burst forth:

"The miserable wretch, after being kicked out of the
convention, went down there and made a speech abusing
me. I paid and supported three newspapers to defend
him during the Vigilance Committee days, and this is all
the gratitude I get from the miserable wretch. I have
hitherto spoken of him as an honest man — as the only
honest man on the bench of a corrupt Supreme Court,
but now I find I was mistaken ; I take it all back. He is
just as bad as the others."

Perley said he should inform Terry of the language that
so neatly summed him up, and Broderick told him to
carry his news as quickly as possible. But Perley, who
saw a chance here to swing his little name before the
public camera, promptly challenged Broderick to a duel.
No reply could be more insulting. Broderick sent him
word that if he should be compelled to accept a challenge
it would be from some one of his own importance and
responsibility. That disposed of Perley, but Broderick's

252

DAVID C. BRODERICK

COI.. E. D. BAKER

DAVID S. TERRY

WILLIAM M. GWIN

THE BRODERICK-TERRY DUEL

recklessness was due not only to the certainty that his life
was sought, and to the desire to have the crisis come and
be done with: his health was almost shattered. The
mental and physical strain of the campaign had been
terrific, and, moreover, he had a heavy and persistent
cold. His friends should have put him to bed; but
Broderick, no doubt, like other men, was a fractious
child where his health was concerned, and willing to send
for a doctor only when in a state of collapse.

The following extract — apropos of Broderick's refusal
to fight Perley — from a San Francisco newspaper, may
be taken as significant of the general understanding that
Broderick's enemies had resolved to eliminate him, and
of the matter-of-fact acceptance of the methods of the day :

For refusing to fight a duel under the circumstances the large masses
of the people will honor David C. Broderick. The belief is quite gen-
eral that there are certain political opponents of his who long for a
chance to shoot him, either in a fair or unfair fight, and that efforts
would be made sooner or later to involve him in a personal difficulty.
It is wisdom on his part to avoid the traps set for him and thus defeat
all the plans of those in whose path he happens just now to stand.
His seat in the Senate would be quite acceptable to a number of
gentlemen of this state. The people of California ought to manifest
in a manner not to be mistaken their approval of the conduct of a
public man who exhibits courage to refuse on any ground to accept
a challenge.

Terry, knowing that Broderick would not consider a
challenge during the campaign, and finding no oppor-
tunity for a fierce personal encoimter in which his ready
knife could do the deadly work with neatness and de-
spatch, held his peace until after election day, September
7th. His duration of office would expire with the year.
He failed of re-election, and immediately sent his resigna-
tion to the governor, left Sacramento for Oakland, and

253

CALIFORNIA

entered at once into the correspondence with Broderick
that terminated in the long-expected duel. Broderick was
staying at the house of a friend at Black Point, almost in
a state of collapse, and undoubtedly in the first stages of
pneumonia. His friends, instead of permitting him to
rest until the last minute, routed him out at midnight
on the loth and drove him into the city to be presented
with the cartel. Calhoun Benham and Thomas Hayes
were the seconds chosen by Terry; David D. Colton and
Joseph C. McKibben acted for Broderick.

Broderick's seconds, exercising their privilege, chose
pistols. The principals were to stand ten paces apart,
facing each other, the pistols to be held with the muzzles
pointed downward until the signal was given to fire.
Broderick was one of the best shots in the state, but with
the long heavy dueling-pistol then in common use. His
seconds might have been in league with the enemy, so
little did they watch his interests. They permitted
themselves to be persuaded to accept a pair of famous
dueling-pistols of Belgian make and of well-known
idiosyncrasies, which belonged to a friend of Terry's,
Dr. Aylette, of Stockton. As a matter of fact, it trans-
pired afterward that Terry had practised with these
pistols during the interval between his provocative speech
in June and the challenge in September.

Broderick was a large man with a large hand, and the
Aylette pistols were very small, with a hair-trigger. It is
not even certain that his seconds told him of the sort of
pistol with which he would defend his life. However, it is
possible that he was too much absorbed during the time
that remained to him to pay any attention to the details
of the meeting. He roused himself from his lethargy and

254

THE BRODERICK-TERRY DUEL

put his affairs in order, seemingly convinced that he had
come to the end of his days.

It would have been possible also for Broderick's sec-
onds, on a doctor's certificate, to have postponed the duel
until he had recovered his usual alertness of mind and
steadiness of hand, but they did nothing of the sort.
Perhaps they were merely fatalists; perhaps, like so many
others, they were eager for the dramatic finale of the great
political drama. The meeting was arranged for half past
five on Monday morning, September 12th, but was in-
terrupted by some legal forrnality and postponed until
the following morning at the same time. The night be-
fore, in place of permitting Broderick to sleep comfort-
ably in his bed, Messrs. Colton and McEabben drove him
in a lumbering hack to a road-house on the old Mission
road several miles from both town and the rendezvous.
There they slept in one room on cots or in bunks, and on
mattresses stuffed with "pulu," a Hawaiian vegetable be-
loved of wayside shacks and invariably infested with ver-
min. Nights in San Francisco, or close to the sea in any
part of central California, are cold and often raw. The
coverings were scanty, and between chilly and the battalions
that promptly deserted the pulu, no one closed his eyes.
They rose at five and were unable to obtain even a cup
of coffee. Shivering in their overcoats, and depressed
as only men can be before breakfast, they entered the
hack and were jolted over the sand-dunes to the dueling-
ground on the shores of Lake Merced. Terry and his
seconds, who had slept comfortably in a farm-house near
by and eaten a good breakfast, were already on the
ground.

It was a dismal spot. The fog was drifting over the
17 255

CALIFORNIA

bare ugly hills, the gray sea was booming in its heavy
sullen fashion; but the hills were covered with people,
and several other hacks stood beside the lake. The un-
asked witnesses to this most famous of California's duels
bored people for the rest of their lives.

According to Article 7 of the dueling-code Broderick,
who had brought a brace of pistols along, might have
been favored by chance if his seconds had demanded that
a coin be tossed to determine the choice of weapons.
But they did nothing of the sort, and even when the little
Belgian pistols were handed to McKibben he merely
snapped a cap on the one Terry was to use and said,
"All right." The armorer then inspected the two and
pronounced them in perfect condition, bi4t told Colton
and McKibben that the one allotted to their principal
was lighter on the trigger than the other. At the inquest
he testified that the one intended for Broderick was so
delicate that it wotild explode by a sudden jar or move-
ment.

Broderick turned the little pistol over and over in his
big hand. Then he turned to his friend Elliot More,
who stood beside him until he took his position, and said
contemptuously :

' ' My seconds are children. As likely as not they have
traded away my Hfe."

The principals were told to take off their overcoats —
the seconds had talked until nearly seven o'clock. They
obeyed and revealed themselves in the formal dueling-
costume of the day: full black suits, the frock coat tight-
ly buttoned, and no collars. Broderick wore a soft hat
pulled low over his eyes. Both were felt over for possible
suits of mail. Broderick's pistol was loaded by the

256

THE BRODERICK-TERRY DUEL

armorer; Terry's by S. A. Brooks, a well-known Chivalry
Democrat and relative of the powerful Crittenden and
Thornton factions.

Terry and Broderiek were fine specimens of men,
tall, upstanding, Broderiek the more massive of the two,
Terry the more agile and wiry. Both were in the prime
of life, but neither could be adjudged handsome by any
standard. Broderiek 's powerful prehistoric face was
the more honest, however, for Terry's mild amiable vis-
age belied the hot temper and deadly purposes of the
man.

Terry, whose favorite weapon was the knife, was
noticeably nervous before the two men advanced to
position; but Benham whispered, it is assumed, the en-
couraging information that his was the best pistol, for
he immediately threw back his head and looked as if
about to hum a time. Broderiek, who had been cool and
collected throughout this long ordeal, in spite of his
physical condition, seemed to lose some of his famous
nerve, as he once more turned the little pistol over in his
hand. Moreover, he had barely contained his rage at
the thoroughness of Benham's exploration in search of a
coat of mail. McKibben merely had tapped Terry; but
Broderiek, whose coiurage never had been called into ques-
tion, was subjected to an insulting examination. Cer-
tainly the fates were obsessed in favor of Terry.

The men stood in position, ten paces apart. Broder-
iek, upon whom apathy seemed to have descended again,
and who was staring at the tiny weapon in his hand,
projected his body in such a manner as to offer a fair
mark. His seconds might have insisted upon his plant-
ing himself squarely, but they merely informed him that

257

CALIFORNIA

he was slightly out of line. It is doubtful if he heard
them. Colton asked:

"Gentlemen, are you ready?"

Broderick adjusted the weapon between his big fingers
and nodded. Terry replied promptly:

"Ready."

The duelists held their pistols vertically at their sides.
Colton enunciated slowly, "One, two, three — " The
men raised their pistols at the word "One." Broderick's
pistol went off and hit the ground. Terry fired before
Colton had time to drawl out "Two," and hit Broderick in
the right breast, penetrating the lung. The hair-trigger
pistol, light at that, had done what was to be expected
in the unaccustomed hand, and Terry had taken an im-
mediate advantage. Broderick raised both his arms,
looked out at the heavy dull waves of the Pacific, which
he had crossed with such enthusiasm ten years before,
shuddered, and dropped the pistol. But he stood upright
for a few seconds longer ; then a powerful tremor convulsed
his body, and he sank literally by inches, as if his will were
protesting to the last. But when his friends reached
him he lay in a heap. Terry stood with folded arms as
Broderick's surgeon and seconds examined the fallen
man. It was several moments before Terry was per-
suaded that he could not have another shot at his ad-
versary. "I hit too far out," he said, discontentedly,
demonstrating that he had shot to kill and would not be
balked. But he was finally convinced that Broderick
was mortally wounded, and left the field.

Broderick's surgeon lost his head, and nothing was done
to relieve the dying man until Terry's surgeon volunteered
his services. Then Broderick was put into the same old

258

THE BRODERICK-TERRY DUEL

lumbering hack in which he had suffered tortures already,
and jolted out to Black Point. His friend Colonel Baker
hastened to his side as soon as the news of the duel and
its fatal termination flew over the town; and Broderick,
with the blood gushing again from the wound, managed
to gasp out, "Baker, when I was struck I tried to stand
firm, but the blow blinded me and I could not." It is
no wonder that the world loves the brave and forgives
them all their sins.

He lived for three days, chloroform relieving him of
some hours of suffering. In his delirium he revealed
plainly that he had known all along he was being hunted
to death ; but as often he talked of the slave power, against
which he had pitted all the great resources of his mind,
and for which he was to die.

"They have killed me because I was opposed to a
corrupt administration," he muttered again and again.
"A corrupt administration and the extension of slavery."

Some of the newspapers had the courage to express the
sentiments of a community almost as outraged as at the
miu-der of James King of Wm.

What has this man done that he should be hunted and abused?
[asked one]. Wherein was his offense against the land or the nation?
What law of morality or religion did he violate? What treason did
he commit against his country? What widow did he wrong? What
orphan did he defraud? What act of his in an official capacity ever
stained his hand? What was his crime?

But Broderick knew that the legislature was composed
of his enemies, and he murmured as he sank into un-
consciousness: "I die. Protect my honor."

He expired on Friday morning, September i6, 1859.
That Friday is said to have been the gloomiest in the
history of San Francisco. There was no excitement, for

259

CALIFORNIA

the duel had been anticipated for months, and Broderick's
death for three days. But the bankers, the merchants,
and all the shopkeepers closed their doors and draped
them with cr^pe or black cloth. The crowds, as the body
of Broderick was carried past on its way to the Union
Hotel, on the comer of Merchant and Kearney streets,
looked terrified and spoke only in whispers, as if fearful
that this time their city had been cursed by the powers
above. Night and day there was a procession past the
bier where the face of the dead man was exposed.

The funeral took place on Saturday. The casket lay
on a catafalque in the middle of the Plaza; and before
some thirty thousand people Colonel Baker pronounced
the funeral oration, a superb flight of oratory according
to the standards of the day. After this ceremony the
funeral procession, accompanied by almost the entire
male population of San Francisco, took its slow way out
to Lone Mountain — where so many famous San Francis-
cans were to join Broderick, and where so much of
San Francisco history seems crowded into a final chapter.

Broderick had his posthumous compensations, for not
only was he venerated as a martyr in the greatest cause
before the nation, but what influence he had lost during
his last bitter struggle in California he regained in death.
His party two years later swept back into power, their
talisman the name of their lost leader, and the "Chivs"
were routed for good and all. The Southerners had
triumphed for the last time in California when they
broke Broderick's heart and sent his body to Lone
Mountain. The Civil War disposed of them as effectually
as if California had returned tc her old tricks and swal-
lowed them up.

26<3

THE BRODERICK-TERRY DUEL

As for Terry, although his trial was a farce, he expiated
his sin so heavily that he demands a certain measure of
sympathy. One must remember that he was a child
of his times, poisoned with political bitternesses, and no
more sensible of committing murder by dueling than by
sending a criminal to the scaffold. He was a brave
man, and willing to take his chances; and Broderick's
death put an end to what ambitions he may have
cherished. He never was elected to the Supreme Bench
again; and although he continued to practise law in
California, his position as a first-rate man had gone for
ever. In the revolution of political feeling that began
with Broderick's death and culminated when the next
legislature expunged from its records the resolutions of
censure compassed by his enemies, Terry came to be re-
garded more and more as a pariah, and what had promised
to be one of the most brilliant careers in California was
over.

During the '80 's he took the case of an adventuress
named Sarah Althea Hill, who claimed to have made a
contract marriage with William Sharon, then one of the
city's leading millionaires. The case was lost, but he
married the lady himself. In the legal tangle that en-
sued Mrs. Terry appeared before Stephen J. Field, Asso-
ciate Justice of the Supreme Court of the United States.
Judge Field ruled unfavorably to Mrs. Terry, who sprang
to her feet and screamed out her unfavorable opinion of
the justice. He ordered her removed from the court-
room; and Terry, whose self-control had not improved
with the years and the frowns of society, drew his knife
and attacked the bailiffs. He was overpowered, and both
he and his wife were sentenced to short terms in jail,

261

CALIFORNIA

Terry emerged vowing vengeance on Judge Field.
As he was not a man whose animosities burned out, but
rather more fiercely for smoldering, the justice never
appeared in the West again save in the company of a
guard employed by the government. On the 15th of
August, 1899, Judge Field and his guard, a man named
Neagle, while on their way from Los Angeles to San
Francisco, were obliged to leave the train for lunch at
Lathrop, one of those dreary, dirty, fly-ridden eating-
houses which still disgrace the West. Terry, with his
wife, was on the same train, and when he entered the
restaurant and saw Judge Field the blood flew to his
head. He managed to control himself for a few moments,
then sprang abruptly from his seat, and, approaching
Judge Field from behind, slapped the esteemed justice
in the face. The sequel did not consume a moment.
The guard leaped to his feet and shot Terry dead. This
was almost thirty years to a day from the September
morning when Terry went out to Lake Merced with the
deliberate intention of killing a far greater man than
either himself or Judge Field. His wife lost her mind
and died in an asylum for the insane.

Broderick had his grave faults, but they were the
faults of the big men of history. He was a law unto him-
self, and in his great strength he could be crushed only
by a combination of factions and enemies. It was de-
creed that he must die lest he emerge from defeat stronger
than ever, and mount to the highest places in the land
over the bodies of his foes. So he died. He was thirty-
nine years old. He is still immovable on his lofty and
solitary pedestal in the history of California. He re-
mains in death as in life the greatest of her sons.

XVIII

THE WAR

At the Presidential election of i860 California surprised
itself by coming out for the Union. All efforts were
made to consolidate the two wings of the Democratic
party; but they were irreconcilable, and the new Republi-
can party, composed of anti-Lecomptonites, remnants of
the old Whig party and loyal Unionists of any faction,
stopped playing with politics and declared for the flag.
Gwin's term in the United States Senate expired on March
3, 1 86 1. He was not mentioned as a candidate when the
new legislature took up the business of filling the vacancy.
James A. McDougal, an anti-Lecompton Democrat, re-
ceived fifty-seven votes on the last ballot; John Nugent
and John B. Weller, Chivalry Democrats, thirty-nine and
four. Shortly afterward there was another duel in which
once more a "Chiv" was victorious and an anti-Le-
comptonite killed. This roused so much and such pro-
longed comment that it proved to be the last of the duels
in California.

Of course, there were plots and counterplots in a state
that had been ruled by the proslavery faction during its
brief history ; and, although it was no new thing to hear
that the Mexican-Californians of the South, who had been
despoiled of their vast possessions by squatters, unfair
rulings, and disproportionate taxation, were agitating to

263

CALIFORNIA

cut California in two, this time the rumor was investi-
gated and the unrest traced to the Chivalry Democrats,
who hoped to profit by a new state so dissatisfied with
the federal government. Washington was informed —
rumor said by Edmund Randolph — that not only was
the southern part of the state on the verge of secession,
but that Brig. -Gen, Albert Sidney Johnston, of Kentucky,
in command of the Pacific Department, had entered into
a plot with certain federal ofiicials in San Francisco to
seize the port and hold it for the Southern Confederacy.
There was no proof of this, nor has any transpired since;
but all rumors are alarming in war -time, and it was
thought best to replace him with a strong Union general.
Before the order reached him he had been warned by
way of the pony express, and resigned. He afterward
distinguished himself in the Confederate army.

In spite of the fact that Edmund Randolph was a
Virginian and an F. F. V. he had been openly opposed
to secession and had upheld the Union at the polls and
on the stump. His family was among the most prominent
socially, in those days when the Southern women ruled
with an iron hand, and he himself was an odd mixture of
the romantic and the practical. That is to say, he was
practical when the blood was out of his head, and ro-
mantic to the point of hysteria when wrought up on the
stump or by any sudden acute crisis. He was a lawyer
of striking ability and had been employed by the United
States government in the New Almaden Quicksilver Mine
case, and held his own against such men as Judah P.
Benjamin and Reverdy Johnson. On the other hand, he
had helped to finance the filibuster scheme of William
Walker against Nicaragua — that same William Walker

264

THE WAR

whom Joaquin Miller described in eloquent verse as a
superb and picturesque figure in full regimentals, red sash
and sombrero, standing on a hill-top and shading his eyes
against the tropic sun, but whom my grandfather, who
was in Nicaragua at the time, remembers in a wrinkled
linen duster, battered "panama," and sandy beard.

In spite of Randolph's abilities no one was ever sur-
prised at any of his abrupt departures from a former
standard, and when he appeared before the Chivalry
convention in Sacramento immediately after the news of
the firing upon Sumter was received, and indulged in a
wild recrudescence of all his Southern instincts, the mem-
bers merely smiled ; but wh en he died a few months later
his right-about-face was ascribed to failing powers.

Gentlemen [he cried. He is described as a distraught figure spring-
ing suddenly to his feet], my thoughts and my heart are not in this
house to-night. Far to the east in the homes from which we came,
tyranny and usurpation with arms in their hands, are this night,
perhaps, slaughtering our fathers, our brothers, and our sisters, and
outraging our homes in every conceivable way shocking to the heart
of humanity and freedom. To me it seems a waste of time to talk.
For God's sake tell me of battles fought and won. Tell me of usurpers
overthrown; that Missouri is again a free state, no longer crushed
under the armed heel of a reckless and odious despot. Tell me that
the state of Maryland lives again; and oh, let us read, let us hear, at
the first moment, that not one hostile foot now treads the soil of Vir-
ginia. If this be rebellion, then I am a rebel. Do you want a traitor?
Then I am a traitor. For God's sake speed the ball. May the lead
go quick to his heart, and may our country be free from the despot
usurper that now claims the name of President of the United States.

A good many other Southerners died hard, but they
died. The Rev. William A. Scott, the leading Presby-
terian minister of San Francisco and a native of New
Orleans, delivered impassioned sermons in the cause of
secession. He created a tremendous uproar, being hung

265

CALIFORNIA

in effigy in front of his own church and frequently threat-
ened by mobs. Finally his friends took him in hand.
A steamer was sailing on a certain Sunday. Passage was
secured for Dr. Scott by several of his parishioners, al-
though he was not taken into their confidence. Morning
service was held as usual, and in spite of warnings from
friends as well as enemies he once more denounced the
government and pleaded the holy cause of a new flag and
a new people. Meanwhile a mob had gathered in front
of the church, and roared its threats. It was patent
that this time he was not to be permitted to leave sanc-
tuary without a dangerous mauling. But Mrs. Thomas
H. Selby had her carriage waiting in the rear. Finally
Dr. Scott was persuaded out of the pulpit by his
anxious friends and into the carriage. The coach-
man whipped up his horses and raced the mob to the
docks; Dr. Scott, fuming, was safely stowed away. He
remained in the South imtil the war was over, then
returned to San Francisco and resumed his pastoral duties.
My grandfather, Stephen Franklin, was a member of
this church, having been a friend of Dr. Scott's in New
Orleans. He came to California first in 185 1, then went
to Central America and returned to California several
years later with his family. Although he took no part
in politics, he was opposed to the Vigilance Committee on
principle, being a firm believer in the written law. For-
merly a cotton-planter in Louisiana himself, he voted with
the Chivalry Democrats; and, a man of rigid principles,
both religious and political, it was not in him to compro-
mise either then or later with the great organization that
reformed San Francisco (although devoted personally to
William T. Coleman), or with the men that elevated the

266

THE WAR

flag above the "beloved South." When the news flashed
across the wires of the assassination of Lincoln the excite-
ment in San Francisco exceeded anything that had con-
vulsed it before. Word ran round the city that every
house and building of any sort must drape itself in
mourning or prepare for attack. No one disobeyed this
unwritten order but a church, several newspaper officers,
and my grandfather. He was the reverse of a violent or
even a bitter man, but he did not approve of Lincoln, and
that was the end of it. He would not put his house in
mourning for him. The mob wrecked the church and the
newspaper offices and then started for my grandfather's
house. As it appeared at the head of Stockton Street,
the next-door neighbors tore up a black gown, rushed in,
and hung it from the upper windows. My father, Thomas
L. Horn, one of the young merchants of the city, had been
a member of the Vigilance Committee, and was an ardent
Union man. I merely relate this bit of family history as
an instance of the intensity of feeling so far from the seat
of war, and as proof that I am able to be an impartial
historian! I was brought up by my grandfather, and
during that time and for years after I was an ardent
Southerner, but I have got over it.

The following would be incredible if it were not true,
and illustrates the raging patriotism of the women of the
South compared to which that of the men was quite
commonplace. A certain eminent judge had a family of
women, pre-eminent socially, and by this time not on
speaking terms with any one upholding the flag. The
judge heard the news of Lincoln's assassination down-
town, and, jumping into his buggy, drove furiously for
home. There were no telephones in those days, but he

267

CALIFORNIA

feared his women might hear the news and disgrace him
in the street. When he reached home he coaxed his wife
and other female relatives up the stairs and into a room
at the back of the house. There he locked the door, put
the key in his pocket, and told them that Lincoln had been
assassinated. His wife (who upon ordinary occasions
boasted all the hauteur, repose, and suave manners of an
F. F. V.) shrieked like an Indian and, picking up her
skirts, executed a waY-dance. (She was very short and very
fat.) The other women were hysterical in their delight,
screaming, laughing, and clapping. The judge was shut
up with them for nearly two hours. Then he let them
out only when each gave him her solemn word of honor
that she would not run up and down the street shouting
her satisfaction. But by this time they were exhausted
and ready to behave themselves.

California contributed three distinguished men to the
Union army — Sherman, Halleck, and Baker. In 1861 she
sent two full regiments of cavalry, eight full regiments
of infantry, besides eight companies that enlisted in the
First Regiment of Washington Infantry Volunteers:
sixteen thousand in all. In 1863 seven more companies
of cavalry were raised, six companies constituting the
First Battalion of California Mountaineers; and in the
next two years two other regiments.

California was equally liberal with her gold, although
she refused to submit to the imposition of greenbacks;
and she became the chief supporter of the famous Sani-
tary Commission organized in behalf of the sick and
wounded. Thomas Starr King, a Unitarian clergyman,
whose fame survived him locally many years, a tomb
being erected to him in the yard of his church, which

968

THE WAR

stood in the heart of the city, took charge of the braVich
organization in San Francisco, and with his energy and
eloquence raised six thousand dollars at the first meeting.
That was a good deal of money for those days, particu-
larly in war-time; but ten days later a further sum of
one hundred and sixty thousand dollars in gold was sub-
scribed and sent to headquarters in New York. In
October another hundred thousand dollars were sent on,
and before the end of 1862 still another hundred thousand.
Being in gold coin, this contribution represented a half a
million in legal-tender notes.

In 1863 California responded to another appeal and
announced her intention of subscribing twenty-five
thousand dollars a month as long as the war lasted. At
the close of the war the report of the central commission
showed that out of four million eight hundred thousand
dollars contributed to the sanitary fund California had
supplied nearly a million and a quarter, and Oregon and
Nevada nearly a quarter of a million, the three together
contributing a third of the whole amount.

The war proved to be of enormous benefit to Califor-
nia. The telegraph line across the continent was com-
pleted in October, 1861, putting her in direct communi-
cation with New York. In 1862 Congress granted her
petition for the long-denied railroad from the Missouri
River to the Pacific Ocean, the withdrawal of Southern
members from both houses making this concession pos-
sible at last. And her population received an immediate
stimulus. Hundreds of families, believing that the war
would last for many years, emigrated to California, where
they would be spared the immediate suffering, the ter-
rible strain and anxieties of those living too close to the

269

CALIFORNIA

path of war. Within a year a thousand new houses were
contracted for in San Francisco ; and the Russ House, the
Lick House, and the Occidental Hotel, superfine hostel-
ries for their day, went up, the last two retaining some-
thing of their old prestige until burned in 1906. Street-
railroads were built, and business of all sorts, which had
been depressed before the outbreak of the war, was, from
many sources, stimulated. The Republican party, of
course, claimed all the credit, and, it must be admitted,
ruled the state without too many iniquities for several
years.

In 1867 the United States government purchased what
is now know as the territory of Alaska from the Russian
government, an enormous tract of land of over five hun-
dred and eighty thousand square miles, thus shifting
California almost to the center of the United States. But
the most exciting event for CaHfornians after the close
of the war was the completion of the railroad in 1869-
Theodore D. Judah, a native of Bridgeport, Connecticut,
who had already demonstrated his ability in railroad-
building locally, interested four Sacramento merchants in
the scheme of an immediate railroad across the conti-
nent, now that the hostile influence in Congress was re-
moved. It was owing to the far-sightedness of these
four men — Charles Crocker, Mark Hopkins, Leland Stan-
ford, and Collis P. Huntington — as well as to the brilliant
young engineer, that California got her railroad in the six-
ties. They organized the Central Pacific Railroad Com-
pany, notwithstanding ridicule and opposition, incorporated
it in California, raised money, obtained the consent and
aid of Congress in spite of the war; and on January 8,
1863, Stanford broke the first ground in Sacramento at

270

THE WAR

the comer of Front and K streets, not far from the fort
where Sutter used to watch the train of emigrant wagons
crawl down the slopes of the Sierra Nevada Mountains.
This railroad, one of the most difficult of all engineering
feats owing to the intervening chains of mountains, is a
monument to the young engineer who conceived it,
Theodore D. Judah, and to the four men who won as
much contimiely as gratitude for pushing it through and
connecting the two oceans. No longer did Californians
have to travel East by mail-coach, hanging first out of
one side and then the other, their eyes raking the horizon
for scalping Indians. No longer were they forced to take
the alternative to this grizzling experience and lose a
precious month at sea, and possibly their lives crossing
"the Isthmus." Indeed, the greater number of Cali-
fornia immigrants, important and insignificant, when
they sent for their families, had resigned themselves never
to see their native states again. But as soon as the rail-
road was built they became the restless travelers they
have remained ever since.

XIX

THE TERRIBLE SEVENTIES

Speculation is a permanent microbe in the blood
of Califomians, and they are never really happy save
when they have turned it loose to multiply and run riot ;
in other words, when they have food for excitement . After
the great gold-rush, although they speculated in whatever
came to hand — city varas, water-lots, stocks and bonds, new
placers — ^they had no really terrific excitement financially
until the seventies. Then it was so mad and so prolonged
that it might have glutted even a San Franciscan.

In 1872 began the sensational history of the great silver-
mines of Nevada, and witnessed the coruscations of a
new galaxy of milHonaires : Mackay, Fair, Flood, O'Brien,
Ralston, Sutro, Sharon, HagginS Tevis, D. O. Mills, "Jim"
Keene, and too many others to mention here.

Of these by far the greatest personality was William
C. Ralston. Bom in Ohio in 1825, educated at the public
schools, leaving abruptly to try his hand at ship-building,
he finally started for California in 1850. At Panama,
however, he was offered the position of agent of a line of
steamships plying between New York and San Francisco,
and accepted it. In 1853 he was sent to represent the
same firm in San Francisco. Shortly afterward, his em-
ployers opened a bank, and, recognizing his great abilities,
took him into partnership. The firm was called Garrison,

*James Ben Ali Haggin was a pioneer, and also a man of wealth
long before this; but his family did not begin to play a leading part
until the seventies.

272

THE TERRIBLE SEVENTIES

Morgan, Fretz & Ralston. Later it became Fretz & Ral-
ston, the more brilliant and adventurous member of the
firm carrying it safely over the shoals of 1855. After
another change Ralston in 1864 induced D. O. Mills
and several other men who already were on the broad way
to fortune to join in foimding the Bank of California,
still, in spite of all vicissitudes and changes, the great
bank of the Pacific coast, and known all over the world.
Mills was the first president, Ralston the cashier, but
succeeding soon afterward to the presidency. WilHam
Sharon was the confidential agent in Virginia City, Nevada.
Ail distinguished foreigners in those days brought letters
of introduction to the Bank of California, and many to Mr.
Ralston personally. He entertained them at his magnifi-
cent and picttiresque country house at Belmont, about
thirty miles from San Francisco. It was an immense
white, rambling, French-looking structure, situated in a
wild and windy canon. One of the sights of those days
was Ralston's four-horse char-d-banc crowded with guests
(generally breathless) dashing along the old Mission
road, himself at the wheel. It might be daylight or
black midnight, it was all one to Ralston ; he never slack-
ened his pace. He generally managed to arrive with his
guests, however, just after dark, when the immense house
against the black background of the canon was a blaze
of light. There a banquet was always spread, the ball-
room always open, and the hundred bedrooms ready.
Innumerable Chinese servants in white were at the ser-
vice of the guests. At the top of the staircase was a
large room built like an opera-box, where it amused Ral-
ston to sit with a few of his chosen friends and watch his
company disport itself below.

273

CALIFORNIA

When Anson Burlingame passed through California on
his way to the Orient to conclude the treaty which bears
his name, Ralston drove him down to Belmont at his
usual furious rate. Shortly before dinner was announced
he had him escorted to the library. This was a room rather
small, handsomely finished with laurel, and, as I remem-
bered it, never a book. There Mr. Burlingame found the
large company gathered in his honor, and was asked to
sit down. All the guests faced one way. A few moments
passed. All knew that some sort of a stirprise was in
store, and felt that Ralston's originality could be relied
upon. Suddenly the opposite wall gave a sort of shiver,
then rose slowly like the curtain of a theater, revealing
an immense banqueting-hall laden with the most splen-
did plate, china, and glass that had been brought to Cali-
fornia at that period, and an almost limitless variety of
flowers and fruits. As motionless as an army about to
salute were the pigtailed Chinese.

The next morning the ambassador at Mr. Ralston's
request picked out the site for a future town the magnate
had in mind, and it was promptly named in his honor.
Ralston did not live to build it, but to-day Burlingame
is a fashionable little community representing many
millions. One of its members, by the way, is a daughter
of James Kling of Wm., and another a son of William T.
Coleman.

For five or six years Ralston enjoyed a world-wide
reputation as a host and a new-world Monte Cristo. He
would take fifty or sixty guests at a time to Yosemite and
the Big Trees, or entertain them at the Cliff House and
other road-houses, hiring special trains and entire livery-
stables. Meanwhile, the stock excitement was rising daily,

^74

WILLIAM C. RALSTON [iNSERT], WHO FREQUENTLY TOOK HIS GUESTS TO YOSEMITE
AND BIG TREES, WAS THE FIRST TO DRIVE A FOUR-IN-HAND THROUGH " WAWONA "

THE TERRIBLE SEVENTIES

There was some interest in the Virginia City silver-
mines as early as 1863, when Ophir, Savage, Hale and
Norcross, and Gould and Curry were opened, and they
were regularly bought and sold on the Stock Exchange;
but it was not until the exploitation of the Comstock
Lode, with its fabulous and apparently inexhaustible
riches, that California, and San Francisco in particular,
suddenly broke out with the most virulent form of specu-
lation fever; soon beyond all htunan power to check.

The great silver-mines of the Comstock Lode were the
California, Consolidated Virginia, Crown Point, Belcher,
and Rajnnond and Ely. Consolidated Virginia was the
most popular, made a few great fortimes and bankrupted
half the coast. It was controlled by four men, Mackay
and Fair, practical miners, and Flood and O'Brien, who
for many years had kept a saloon in San Francisco; being
men of uncommon shrewdness, they extracted the salt
from the oceans of mining talk always flowing over their
bar.

These five mines were called the Bonanzas, and prac-
tically the whole state invested in them. Women sold
their jewels, and every clerk and servant hoped to make
his or her "pile." The old Stock Exchange was no longer
able to accommodate the increasing number of brokers,
and in January, 1872, the California Stock Exchange
Board was organized. Daily and hourly, until men fell
in their tracks from exhaustion, it was a scene of such
frenzied excitement that the old stampeding days to the
diggings were relegated to the storehouse of insignificant
memories. That any one survived those years, par-
ticularly 1875, is a phenomenon that must be explained
by the cHmate. Thousands did not. They either com-

27s

CALIFORNIA

mitted suicide or crawled away to hide themselves for the
rest of their shattered lives. Only a few tremendous
fortunes were made. Several millionaires, their reason
burnt up with the speculation microbe, were ruined, and
more of the merely well-to-do ; but the greater number of
people with "money behind them" managed either to come
out even or save enough to begin life over ; the vast num-
ber that lost all were those that had nothing to lose.

In 1872 the market value of the Nevada stocks shot up
from seventeen millions to eighty-four millions of dollars,
and the sales numbered many millions. Business was
neglected. Even the gambling-tables languished. People
invested all they had, all they could borrow, beg, pawn, or
steal, in stocks. No one talked of anything else; and
many women, known as Mudhens, sold stocks on the
curb. Everybody assumed that one spot of earth at least
had enough for all, and that this day one year he would
be handling money by the bushel and proclaiming that
never in this life would he do another stroke of work.
Husbands must have been quite unmanageable in those
days, and repellant to all but wives that were equally
reckless and irresponsible.

All this went to Ralston's head, but in a totally different
fashion from its devastations in the average cranium.
Ralston, like Broderick, or, to soar higher, like Cecil
Rhodes or Napoleon, was a law unto himself, and, as his
brothers have done, discovered that sooner or later Law
manages to hold its own like the wind and the waves.
Nevertheless, if the crash had not come when it did
Ralston's commanding genius for finance and his mag-
nificent civic patriotism never would have been called
into question; now he must be regarded as a great man

276

THE TERRIBLE SEVENTIES

gone wrong. He just missed having hideous statues
erected to his memory all over the state of California.
What he needed was a whole mine of his own.

Between the insupportable excitement of those years
and the fact that he was regarded as the uncrowned king
of California he lost all sense of proportion, all power of
foresight. Bom one of the clearest of thinkers, and
famous in the financial world for taking precisely one
minute to make up his mind on questions involving
millions, it would seem that his brain, being the biggest in
the state, could accommodate the greatest number of
microbes. His passion was San Francisco, his ambition,
to make' her one of the greatest cities in the Union, the
rival of the proudest in the older East. With the silver
floods rolling down from Nevada it seemed to him that
now was the time to do it — take the tide at its flood.
In rapid succession his fertile brain projected and his
superhuman energy put through the Mission Woolen Mills,
the Kimball Carriage Factory, the Cornell Watch Fac-
tory, the West Coast Furniture Factory, the San Fran-
cisco Sugar Refinery, the Grand Hotel, the Palace Hotel,
the Dry Dock at Hunter's Point, the Reclamation Work
at Sherman Island, the Irrigating Works of the San
Joaquin Valley, the Rincon Hill Cut, the extension of
Montgomery Street, and the California Theater. Ralston
possessed one of the greatest civic imaginations the world
has produced, and if he only could have found that mine
he would rank with such city-makers and castle-builders
as Ludwig I. and Ludwig II, of Bavaria, both of whom,
by the way, nearly bankrupted their state.

One can only admire the ruthlessness of these great
imaginations that elevate the beauty and prosperity of

277

CALIFORNIA

their chosen territory above the commonplace needs of
the " plain people," or their own safety, and wish they could
discover the mines that are wasted on the sordid or the
unworthy. To my mind Ralston is far more entitled
to admiration and real fame than any of the thousand and
one smug millionaires that live smugly, take no risks save
for themselves, and leave no impress on the world. Ludwig
I. found Munich a medieval stronghold and converted it
into a great Renaissance city (with comers of other
periods), to which all the world goes and leaves many
millions of marks a year. Moreover, it is a city without
a slum. The beautiful and unique castles upon which
Ludwig II. spent the revenues of his state until the
government, fearing bankruptcy, deposed and imprisoned
him, are one of the greatest sources of revenue in Bavaria
to-day. As for Ralston, practically all of the businesses he
founded, as well as his other investments, survived him-
self, flourished, and added to the wealth and importance
of his city. The Palace Hotel, finished by Mr. Sharon,
became one of the famous hotels of the world.

But he did not live to see the fruition of any of his
great schemes, nor the growth of the city that until the
fire of 1906 owed more to him, to the tremendous impetus
he gave it, than to all other San Franciscans of his era put
together; for he was the first to rouse civic pride in a
very selfish and self-centered community. But almost
imperceptibly the mines began to show signs of exhaus-
tion, to say nothing of unconquerable undergroimd floods.
And Ralston had been improving San Francisco with the
capital of the Bank of California.

Of coiirse, he had borrowed of other banks. It suited
one of these banks, intensely jealous of the man as well

278

THE TERRIBLE SEVENTIES

as of the Bank of California, to watch for the weak mo-
ment and then turn on the screws; in other words, call
in its loans. On August 27, 1875, California rocked with
the news — ^and vibrations of this earthquake were felt all
over the world, for Ralston 's famous institution was the
agent of the Rothschilds — that the Bank of California,
which had been regarded as Gibraltar's twin, had closed
its doors.

Behind those doors the excitement was none the less
intense for being suppressed — by men that had no time
for emotions. William Sharon and others agreed to set
the bank on its feet again out of their personal fortunes,
but Ralston was requested to resign. The man that had
made the bank one of the greatest institutions in the world,
and given California a position financially she never had
enjoyed before, was treated without mercy. But he
must have picked up his hat and left that council chamber
of the just with the hope that he never woiild lay eyes on
one of those men again.

He was in the habit of taking a daily swim from North
Beach. He drove from the bank to his usual bath-house,
swam out and went down. The next excitement in San
Francisco was "Ralston's suicide." That night Mr.
Sharon said to my grandfather, "Best thing he could
have done." But my grandfather, who was perhaps the
most intimate friend Mr. Ralston had, never for a mo-
ment believed in that immediately adopted theory of
suicide, a theory that gained swift credence not only
because Ralston was ruined and had wrecked the bank,
but because he was a man of intense pride. Some years
afterward Dr. John Pitman, who was Ralston's doctor,
made, at the request of one of the great Califomian's

279

CALIFORNIA

daughters, a written statement which should dispose once
for all of the popular theory.

Fort Wayne, Indiana, January 5, igo3.

Dear Madam, — I have to-day received a letter from Mr. Charles
E. Dark, of Indianapolis, telling me of your serious desire to have a
statement from me regarding the death of your father, Mr. W. C.
Ralston, whom it was my pleasure and honor to know.

If I remember correctly it was August, 1875. He was President of the
California Woolen Mills, California Furniture Company, and the Bank
of California. He had for some time been almost pursued by Senator
Sharon, whose manipulations caused the suspension of the Bank of
California, which was totally unnecessary, as the bank was solvent;
but Sharon played his cards causing the suspension. The day of
Mr. Ralston's death was a blazing hot day, the city was a furnace of
heat. I met him as he was coming out of the bank and shook hands
with him. He told me he had just shifted a load of care from his
shoulders by resigning the presidency of the bank, and, to use his own
words, "felt Uke a school-boy ofif for his holidays." It had been a
custom of his to go in swimming at North Beach, and he told me he
was off for a swim, and he wanted me to go with him. I warned him
that he was overheated, that the water of the Pacific was dangerously
cold, and begged him to forego his bath; but he insisted. I was un-
able to go with him at the time, but promised if he would wait an hour
I would go with him to North Beach. We then separated. I fully
expected to find him waiting for me at the bath-house, but I was de-
layed, and the first thing I heard was the newsboys calling an extra
with a statement of his suicide. The Call and the Bulletin had both
been opponents of his, and were only too glad to do their dirty work.
Mr. Ralston was a grand man, a noble man; he had no idea of suicide,
and I so stated over my signature in the Chronicle. He was a coiu^a-
geous man, not a coward, was ready to meet all emergencies, and never
discouraged. He was a friend of the poor man and the rich; he knew
men, and his judgment never was at fault. His death was a great loss
to the Pacific coast, and Senator Sharon and the Call and the Bulletin
were guilty of the foulest lie when they accused him of suicide. His
death was due to cramp produced by his heated condition and very
cold water.

Trusting these lines may be of some comfort from one who knows
the facts, I am

Yours very sincerely,

John Pitman,
239

THE TERRIBLE SEVENTIES

Mr. Ralston was only fifty; his energies — ^never allowed
to rust — ^were at their supreme pitch of development ; his
resourceful and highly organized brain was a perfect ma-
chine, equipped for every emergency. If he had lived,
no doubt he would have made another fortune and con-
tinued to devote himself to the advancement of his city.
In spite of the nagging attacks of the Call and the Bulletin,
which preceded his death for several weeks, it is doubt-
ful if he ever lost the confidence or admiration of the
public. And once more all San Francisco turned out for
a funeral. He lies not far from Broderick in Lone
Mountain.

I remember Mr. Ralston — who was the great man of
my childhood — as a thick-set man with a massive face,
clean-shaven above the mouth, and not too much hair
below, a piercing but kind and often humorous blue eye,
a tightly set mouth which could relax — ^rarely — into a
charming and spontaneous smile — sandy hair, and a cast-
iron repose. I know now that that granitic exterior sur-
rounded a d3mamo, and, no doubt, often an insupportable
nervous tension. He was a great man set down into too
small a field, and, Hke other great men that have ignored
the laws made by lesser men, he paid a heavy price.

THE CHINESE IN CALIFORNIA

When California was admitted into the Union in 1850
the Chinese, welcome immigrants, turned out as patrioti-
cally as the Americans in the great parade which cele-
brated that historic episode, and were given an honor-
able position. Both Governor Burnett, the first civil
governor of California, and his successor, accepted the
Chinese as desirable acquisitions; and Governor McDougal,
in his annual message, spoke of them as "one of the
most worthy classes of oiu* newly adopted citizens," and
recommended that further immigration should be en-
couraged, as they were particularly fitted to work on the
reclamation of the fertile tule- swamps overflowed by
the rivers during the rainy season. When the Vigilance
Committee of 1856 was organized the Chinese merchants
of San Francisco, already a powerfvd and concentrated
colony, contributed munificently to its funds and received
a vote of thanks.

But it was far otherwise in the mines. Almost from the
first there was an outcry against these frugal, thrifty,
thorough, tireless Orientals. This was owing partly to an
ineradicable race prejudice against color, characteristic
of this land of many races, partly to an irritating sense of
the economical superiority of the Asiatic, partly to the
discovery that the maximum of the precious dust which

382

THE CHINESE IN CALIFORNIA

had been sluiced upward throughout long vulcanic ages
for the benefit of honest Americans was being sent to
China — ^from which, it is possible, California derived her
ancient populations. Whatever the motive, the China-
men were nm out of digging after digging, laws were
enacted against them; before long, although here and
there they were permitted to herd together at inferior
placers, they began to drift into the towns, particularly
San Francisco, where they proceeded to reduce the cost of
living by their low charges as laundrymen, merchants,
street venders, and servants. One of the most familiar
sights of San Francisco for many years was the coolie with
his coarse blue linen smock and wide trousers, native
straw hat (that so curiously resembles his native archi-
tecture), and a pole balanced across his shoulders from
which depended large baskets filled with salmon and
other fish, fruits, and vegetables. These he peddled
from house to house at incredibly low prices.

The children were never weary of standing in front of
the Chinese wash-houses and watching the "pigtails" fill
their mouths with water and eject it in a hissing stream
over the underclothes and linen that their vindictive
rival, the laundress, sprinkled occidentally. The Chinese
quarter gave a complete illusion of the Orient, particularly
at night, with its gaudy Chinese architecture and crowds
and smells, its thousands of swaying lanterns, often nebu-
lous blots of light in the fog, its ornate Joss house, its
theaters of gorgeous costumes and no scenery, its under-
ground opium-dens, its hanging balconies, over which on
the occasion of a merchant's banquet drifted the hopeless
monotonous wailing of the women, singing to entertain
their lords. Th§ shops were fascinating both to tpuiists

283

CALIFORNIA

and Califomians with their prodigal stock of kimonos
ranging from one dollar to seventy-five dollars, their china
of all prices, their jades and carved cabinets and bed-
spreads. Until the fire of 1906 San Francisco's China-
town was one of the sights of the world, but to-day the
shops alone have their old attraction.

The antagonism in San Francisco toward the Chinese
grew slowly. In 185 1 the immigration had reached about
twenty-seven hundred. In 1852 there were eighteen
thousand four hundred additional Chinese in California,
and the uneasiness had spread from the mines and entered
poHtics.

The celebrated phrase "The Chinese must go" is at-
tributed to one Dennis Kearney, the "sand-lot agitator";
but Bigler, third governor of California, came out flatly
with the sentiment in a special message to the legislatiu"e,
April 23, 1852, giving expression to the growing belief that
it was important to check Chinese immigration, particu-
larly of coolies, who were sent out under contract to work
at the mines, and would be retiimed to China after a fixed
period by one or other of the six companies. These
coolies, he advised the legislature, came to California
influenced by cupidity only (here we find no mention by
his excellency of the motives influencing the stupendous
white immigration of 1849-50, which included clergymen,
school-teachers, lawyers, editors, and other exponents of
the high occidental standard, who had deserted their
avocations and stampeded for the mines) ; he went on to
say that these coolie miners received from the companies
a mere wage, that not one of them intended to settle in the
country, that as their standards in all things were so low
(the American has always despised frugality), opposed

THE CHINESE IN CALIFORNIA

diametrically to those of the United States, they were
necessarily the most imdesirable class of citizens which
the country could adopt. He made no reference to the
fact that in spite of the prejudice against the Chinamen
at the mines it never had been found necessary to lynch
one of them, whereas every white race had been repre-
sented at the end of a rope up the gulch.

However, there is no logical argument that can make the
least headway against race prejudice; and if the Orientals,
who, we are all willing to grant, are vastly otir superiors
economically, would appreciate this fact once for all, much
trouble and possibly bloodshed would be averted. It is
the masses that rule in this country, not the enlightened
few, who, whatever their breadth of mind, are always
forced to yield to the popular clamor.

Bigler, who was anything but broad-minded, attributed
all the vices of all the ages to the Chinese, and in his mes-
sage, at least, left them not one rag of virtue to cover their
corruption. He went so far as to discourage the keeping
of the contracts with the companies, and intimated that
it would be an impertinence if the Chinese attempted
retaHation; the conditions of California were peculiar,
therefore she should enact peculiar laws ; having examined
the constitutional question involved, he believed that the
state had the right to prevent the entry of any class of
persons that it "deemed dangerous" to the interests or
welfare of its citizens.

But although Bigler with this message encouraged the
prejudice against the yellow race among the unruly
members of the population, subjecting it to abuse and
indignities, he was unable to obtain any legislation on the
subject; and the answers of the Chinese merchants so far

285

CALIFORNIA

exceeded hi? message in logic and dignity that many
Californians resented the position in which their governor
had placed them. On March 9, 1853^ five members of
the Committee on Mines and Mining Interests — James H.
Gardner, T. T. Cabaniss, Benjamin B. Redding, R, G.
Reading, and Patrick Cannay — ^presented a report which
indicated that among legislators at least there was a
reaction in favor of the inoffensive race that had played
so important a part in developing the industries and
resources of the state.

Their report asserted that there were twenty-two
thousand Chinese in California, mostly from the Canton
district. They had divided themselves into four de-
partments, representing that district. Each department
had a house in San Francisco presided over by two men
who were elected by the department in the state. All
coolies that came to the country were under the super-
vision of these houses, and were not allowed to leave the
country until debts were settled. In sickness they were
given care in hospitals in Chinatown, and in the same
district all legal matters were attended to without refer-
ence to the California courts. The heads of these houses,
men that stood high in the estimation of all reputable
San Francisco business men, had appeared before the
committee and stated that the original practice of bringing
coolies to the coimtry under contract to labor for em-
ployers had been abandoned; most of them now came as
their own masters and with their own means; some had
borrowed money and pledged their property; some had
agreed to give the proceeds of their labor for a certain time ;
others had pledged their children to be owned as slaves
in case of non-payment. They estimated the Chinese

286

THE CHINESE IN CALIFORNIA

capital in the state, other than that employed in mining,
at two miUions of dollars.

There was much palaver, and then the matter was
dropped for a time, although Bigler in his successive
messages took occasion to scold the legislature for doing
nothing to arrest Chinese immigration; and the small
boy, and sometimes his father, continued to stone China-
men in the streets or pull his pigtail when the mood was
on him. Weller, the fourth governor, in response to a
petition for aid from Shasta County to put down an anti-
Chinese riot, sent a hundred and thirteen rifles, and the
message that the spirit of mohocracy must be crushed
at no matter what cost of money or blood.

Governors Latham and Downey do not seem to have
taken any stand on the subject, probably because it was
engidfed in the all-absorbing war; but Governor Stanford
in 1862 took as positive a stand against the Chinese as the
first governor had done, maintaining that Asia sent us the
dregs of her population and that immigration should be
discouraged by every legitimate means. Governor Low,
with more independence — for the Chinese antipathy was
increasing daily and had been made an issue in the recent
campaign — "took strong ground against the illiberal and
barbarous provisions of the law excluding Mongolian and
Indian testimony from the courts of justice where a white
person was a party."

Governor Haight, in his message of December, 1869,
alluded to Chinese immigration in the choicest English
incorporated in our democratic vocabulary: "The" Chi-
nese," said he, "are a stream of filth and prostitution
pouring in from Asia, whose servile competition tends to
cheapen and degrade labor." He also declared Chinese

19 287

CALIFORNIA

testimony to be utterly unreliable, but in the next breath
announced himself in favor of "the removal of all barriers
to the testimony of any race or any class as a measure not
simply of justice but sound policy."

Governor Booth's remarks, which might have been
written yesterday, are worth quoting :

It may be true that the interests of capital and labor are the same
[said he] ; but in practice each is prompted by self-interest, and avails
himself of the other's necessities; and any system that introduces a
class of laborers whose wages are exceptionally low gives capital an
advantage; and in so far as it has a tendency to establish a fixed line
of demarcation between capital and labor and create a laboring caste,
it is a social and poUtical evil. But, however this may be and what-
ever the course of action the federal government, which has exclusive
control of the subject of Asiatic immigration, may take in relation to
it, there is but one thing to do in reference to the Chinese, and that
is to afford them full and perfect protection. Mob violence is the
most dangerous form by which the law can be violated, not merely
in the immediate outrage committed, but in the results which often
follow: commimities debauched, jurors intimidated, and courts con-
trolled by the political influence of the number that are guilty. . . .

Romualdo Pacheco, who as Heutenant-govemor admin-
istered for ten months after Booth resigned to take his
seat in the United States Senate, seems to have had no
time to devote to the question; but Governor Irwin
opposed Chinese immigration in 1875. By this time,
however, the opinion of a governor on this vital subject
counted for little save as it affected his chances of election.
It was become the especial prerogative of the mob agitators.

Periodically labor is disgraced and crippled by agitators
whose only ambition is a Utopian condition in which they
can, after looting, loaf for the rest of their Hves, and whose
shibboleth is the brotherhood of man. The mass of
laborers, unionist or otherwise, go about their business,
protect themselves by well-thought-out methods, and

THE CHINESE IN CALIFORNIA

possess brains enough to realize that all changes must
evolve slowly; if radically, the result will be mob rule
and, its inevitable sequence, a dictator — and a reversion
to first principles after the destruction of all that steady
progress has achieved. But, as in every other class, there
are thousands without brains, and these are easily manipu-
lated when conditions have arisen that present a striking
opportunity to those of their number that live without
work.

In the '70's, when everybody was excited and enormous
fortimes were being made in the Virginia City mines —
many on paper, as the events proved, for few were wary
enough to sell before it was too late — ^agitators in San
Francisco began holding meetings in empty sand-lots on
the outskirts of the town and shouting that it was time
for the rich to disgorge in favor of his superior in all the
virtues, the day-laborer; that no man should be permitted
to own more than a few acres of land. But this was a
mere preliminary skirmish. They were quite willing to
appropriate all the capital in the state ; but as that drastic
measure presented difficulties they concentrated on the
unfortunate Mongolian. This was the easiest way of
currying favor with the masses during that era; it was the
war-cry of the politicians after votes, and the stock in
trade of the agitators. And, as has been pointed out,
the temperature of the '70's was high. Everybody was
excited about something all the time, or if he enjoyed a
brief respite he feared that he was worn out.

XXI

"the CHINESE MUST GO"

Dennis Kearney, a drayman, who had arrived in Cali-
fornia in 1868 and nattiralized in 1876, soon became the
most conspicuous of the sand-lot agitators. He was a
man of some natural ability, and, although without edu-
cation, bright enough to pick up a large amoimt of useful
knowledge. As he had that mystic quality known as
personality, and made the most noise denouncing capital,
monopoly, and the Chinese, he rose rapidly to the leader-
ship of the most serious labor agitation in the history of
California. There were nightly meetings in the sand-
lots, lighted by torches when the moon was too young or
the familiar fog drifted over Twin Peaks, at all of which
an enormous amount of talking and hissing and shouting
was done; but the first overt act which called out the
police was in July, 1877. News had come over the wire
of socialistic, labor, and railroad riots at Philadelphia,
Baltimore, and Pittsburg; and Kearney & Co. had little
difficulty persuading the lighter heads among the working-
men as well as the hoodlums (successors to the Hounds
in intention, although less criminal in act) that these
agitations "back East" were but the forerunners of a
national revolution that would give the country once for
all to the labor party.

On July 23d a band of choice spirits burned a Chinese

290

*'THE CHINESE MUST GC

laundry and sacked several others. Then the "Sand-
lotters ". indulged in a grand parade, shouting that they
would drive the Chinese out of San Francisco if they had
to hum. all Chinatown to do it. The police force of the
city numbered one hundred and fifty, totally inadequate
to cope .with such a mob. San Francisco was for the
most part built of wood. Quite apart from the burning
of Chinatown, situated in the heart of the business dis-
trict, if the agitators saw fit to fire houses simultaneously
at different points and then were able to obstruct the
fire brigade, the city would bum to the ground.

Once more William T. Coleman was the man of the
hour. In response to the general demand he organized
on July •24th a strong force of volunteers to be called the
Committee of Safety. The mimicipal government, al-
though corrupt enough, was far better than that of 1856,
thanks to the Vigilance Committee, and it was not neces-
sary to interfere with the police force, merely to supple-
ment it.

Seventy thousand dollars were subscribed, and thou-
sands of citizens enrolled themselves at Horticultiural
Hall, the Committee's headquarters, on the comer of
Stockton and Post streets. Mr. Coleman was supported
by the United States Government, and provided with all
the arms he demanded; five war-ships came down from
Mare Island and anchored in the bay. All this within
forty-eight hours, and due primarily to the state and
national reputation that Mr. Coleman had acqmred
during his administration of the Vigilance Committee
of 1856.

He organized and enrolled with the simple direct
methods he had employed twenty years before. But he

291

CALIFORNIA

had no intention of spilling any blood if it could be avoid-
ed. The firearms were stacked to be used if all other re-
sources failed. He ordered the purchase of six thousand
hickory pick-handles, and before the night of the 5th the
volunteers had been formed into companies armed with
these formidable weapons and ready to reinforce the
police. They became known as the Pick-handle Brigade-
Only fifteen hundred went on duty that night, but there
was a total force of five thousand members, who would
have reached Horticultural Hall a few minutes after the
tap of the alarm-bell.

Of the fifteen hundred on duty there were three hun-
dred cavalry that patrolled the manufacturing districts
and the outskirts of the city. There were also squads of
police in boats along the water-front.

No one slept that night, and few but expected to see
the city in flames before morning, in spite of the universal
confidence in Mr. Coleman; for the rioters were known
to number many thousand, most of whom no doubt were
drunk. The large force of volunteers at the disposal of
the Committee was still a secret. The result should have
reassured San Franciscans once for all that when the
strong, quick-thinking, self-reliant, and totally fearless
men of that almost isolated strip on the edge of the
Pacific rouse themselves, use their brains and superior
powers of organization, they will put down the worst
form of mob violence that could threaten their city. They
may sacrifice blood and money, but they will do the
work. There is always a WilUam T. Coleman, a man
of the hour.

But it was a wild night. All day there had been en-
counters between the police and the mob. Thousands

'THE CHINESE MUST GO"

of people, women as well as men, stood in the streets on
the long uneven ridge known as Nob Hill, where so many
of the hated rich had built their big ugly houses (only the
size could have excited envy in the least artistic mind)
staring down upon that large flat district once known as
Happy Valley; then for a time very fashionable, with
substantial homes surrounded by gardens on Brannan
Street, Folsom Street, and on Rincon Hill closer to
the bay; now known generically as South of Market
Street, and given over to factories, the dwellings of
the laboring - class, cheap lodging-houses, and cheaper
shops. It is bounded on the east and south by the
docks.

At any moment the crowd on the hilltops expected to
see one or all of the factories and dockyards burst into
flames, and then a black mass of men surge forward like
a tidal wave to the hills. All were prepared to break
ranks and flee to the Presidio and Black Point at the first
sign that the Committee's troops had been overcome by
the mob.

Suddenly they did see flames. They leapt from the
lumber-yards near the Pacific Mail Steamship's docks at
the foot of Brannan Street, where the Chinese immi-
grants were landed; and the roar of the mob came faintly
to the watchers on the hills. The fire-bells, which were
a familial- sound in those days of wood and carelessness,
rang wildly, sounding a general alarm. Almost immedi-
ately the flames were extinguished. Not a red tongue
anywhere else; there had been far worse fires in that dis-
trict on many other nights.

Then some one came running up with the word that
the Pick-handle Brigade was administering heavy chastise-

293

CALIFORNIA

ment to the rioters. The angry roar below grew in vol-
ume, but only a few shots punctuated it. Finally the
uproar subsided, save for an occasional drunken shout.
South of Market Street went to bed utterly routed by
the hickory sticks, and having let no blood to speak of.
The watchers on the heights also dispersed, vowing to
erect a statue to William T. Coleman, a vow which, with
characteristic American ingratitude, they promptly for-
got.

The mob was cowed, defeated. On the day following
what had promised to be a portentous uprising of the pro-
letariat, the working-men went sullenly to their jobs, or
himg about in groups with no fight in them. This was a
magnificent demonstration of what can be accomplished
in a republic by the superior class of citizens over
demagogues and their mistaken followers — and the
lawless element of a city; a vastly different thing
from the tyrannies of European states ruled by mili-
tarism. In republics agitators merely lie for their own
purposes when they assert that all men's chances are
not equal; cream will rise to the top until the day of
doom.

The Committee of Safety disbanded for the moment,
but its members had been so thoroughly disciplined, even
in the short period of its existence, that they could be
called together at the tap of the bell. Thanks were for-
warded to Washington, and the marines and sailors asked
permission to parade through the city before returning
to Mare Island. Permission was given willingly, and
they were an impressive and significant sight, especially
for "South of Market Street."

But the times were hard. Hundreds of men were out

294

**THE CHINESE MUST GO*'

of work. Cowed as they were, their passions had been
roused; they had had a taste of red blood, and they still
were grist for the mill of the demagogue.

It was then that Dennis Kearney organized what he
named the Working-man's Party of California — the W.
P. C. — but what the people of San Francisco promptly
nicknamed the Sand -lot Party. Every Sunday after-
noon those in work and those idle from necessity or
choice gathered once more in the sand-lots and listened
to Kearney demand the blood of the rich, the hanging of
William T. Coleman and his "hoodlum Committee of
Safety," the police, the municipal officials, and certain
specified capitalists whose mansions on Nob Hill (hap-
pily obliterated by the fire of 1906) they would bum to
the ground. He predicted that in one year there would
be twenty thousand laborers in San Francisco armed with
muskets and able to defy the United States army. In
another flight he predicted for San Francisco the fate of
Moscow. But this was merely talk, talk, talk. Not
one of his audience bought a musket or even reconnoit-
ered Nob Hill. But the better class of these working-
men, alarmed by the continued hard times, and disgusted
by the colossal fortimes made by men no better than
themselves and no higher in the social scale, who now
ignored their existence, doing nothing to relieve their
anxieties or privations, were in a mood to do something
concrete. The W. P. C. grew larger daily with the
spectacular Kearney (in whom it still had confidence) as
president; John D. Hay, vice-president; and H. L.
Knight, secretary.

As is customary with new parties laboring under real
grievances, they vowed themselves to an infinite number

295

CALIFORNIA

of impossible reforms. The principles of the association
were formulated as follows:

To unite all poor men and working-men and their friends into one
political party for the purpose of defending themselves against the
dangerous encroachments of capital on the happiness of our people and
the liberties of our country; to wrest the government from the hands
of the rich and place it in those of the people, where it properly be-
longs; to rid the country of cheap Chinese labor as soon as possible;
to destroy the great money power of the rich — and by all means in
our power because it tends still more to degrade labor and aggrandize
capital ; to destroy land monopoly in our state by a system of taxation
that will make great wealth impossible in the future. . . . The rich have
ruled us until they have ruined us. We will now take our own affairs
into our own hands. The republic must and shall be preserved, and
only working-men can do. it. Our shoddy aristocrats want an emperor
and a standing army to shoot down the people.

These sentiments and resolutions were uttered in 1877,
but they have a striking family likeness to the soap-box
utterances of 19 14. The interval is thirty-seven years.
Even yet the working-class has not learned that its agi-
tators seek to benefit no one but themselves. If ever a
leader arises among them both selfless and capable they
will be a mighty force to reckon with, but so far their
leaders have proved themselves to be merely the more
sharp and cunning men of their class, gifted with the
plausible tongue, some talent for organizing, and a com-
manding talent for extracting money and living at ease.

Even Dennis Kearney, poseur as he was and ignorant
of history, soon discovered that he must bestir himself
and do something besides vituperate if he would hold
his position as leader of a large body of men that were
beginning to think. Each of these men had a vote.
The W. P. C. must make itself felt in the composition
9,n4 then upon the performances of the next legislature,

296

THE CHINESE MUST GO

J ♦

He invented the phrase "The Chinese must go," and
it became the shibboleth of the working-man's party,
although the Chinese were but one of its grievances. On
October i6th one leading newspaper of San Francisco
published a long manifesto from Kearney demanding the
expulsion of the Chinese. It was written in his charac-
teristic style — that is to say, the style of his sort. Not
one of these agitators since time began has displayed the
slightest originality.

Congress [said he] has often been manipulated by thieves, specula-
tors, land-grabbers, bloated bond-holders, railroad magnates, and
shoddy aristocrats [sic!]; a golden lobby dictating its proceedings.
Our own legislature is little better. The rich rule them by bribes.
The rich rule the country by fraud and cunning, and we say that
fraud and cunning shall not rule us. The reign of bloated knaves is
over. The people are about to take their affairs into their own hands,
and they will not be stopped either by "citizen" vigilantes, state
militia, or United States troops.

It has long been the wise policy of the United States
and England to let agitators "talk their heads off," and
the press is always willing to give them space if they are
sufficiently spectacular. News is news. For the mo-
ment the sand-lotters confined their explosions to the
sand-lots, the police winked, the papers gave them head-
lines, the citizens began to feel bored, and Mr. Coleman
was not the man to sound the alarm-bell unless life and
property were menaced. In consequence the W. P. C.
came to the conclusion that they had intimidated the
enemy and were now strong enough to take possession
of the city. But some had a lively remembrance of those
fifteen hundred hickory sticks, and in conference it was re-
solved to "go slow" at first; so they merely stoned China-
men when no policeman was on the beat, burned laundries

297

CALIFORNIA

in the night, and continued to inveigh against the
rich.

But memories are short and blood becomes hotter and
hotter when inflamed with talk and potations. There
was a moderate faction that advocated a constitutional
convention and subsequent legislation to remedy all evils ;
but there were many more (augmented by the hoodlums)
who finally worked themselves up to a point where only
an immediate demonstration against the rich would
lower their temperature. It was on October 28th that
this faction was persuaded by Kearney to give the "blood-
suckers" an object-lesson of their power to take posses-
sion of San Francisco whenever they chose. Some three
thousand marched up to Nob Hill, shouting that the
Chinese must go, and the rich as well. They also gave
to the winds their ultimate determination to demolish the
big houses recently built by the railroad magnates — Crock-
er, Stanford, and Hopkins — as well as those of Haggin,
Tevis, Colton, and others who had indulged in the heinous
and un-American crime of making money.

When the mob reached the "spite fence" that Mr.
Charles Crocker had bmlt about an unpurchasable bit
of land in the rear of his "palatial residence," Dennis
Kearney mounted a wagon and shouted to the world at
large that he had thoroughly organized his party and that
he and his men would march upon these Nob Hill mag-
nates and plunder the city just as soon as they felt like
it. He would give the Central Pacific Railroad just three
months to discharge its Chinamen (who, by the way,
had been largely instrumental in building the road, the
white man objecting to separation from his family, and
preferring jobs involving less hardship), and that if

298

''THE CHINESE MUST GO*'

Stanford did not attend personally to this detail he must
take the consequences. He denounced and threatened
Crocker in similar terms, and then, in the good old fash-
ion, proceeded to call every capitalist by name and de-
noimce him as a thief, a murderer, a bloated aristocrat,
etc.

There was, of course, an understanding between the
police and the leaders of this mob, for, although the
guardians of the city were out in force, they did not break
up the march nor interfere with the speeches. When
Kearney and his cabinet had talked themselves hoarse
the crowd marched back to South of Market Street,
merely emitting an occasional "The Chinese must go."

After two or three more of these demonstrations, how-
ever, the city authorities, realizing that the citizens were
becoming alarmed, determined to make a display of re-
sentment and force. Kearney, while vociferating on
Barbary Coast, was arrested and jailed. As it was ex-
pected that an attempt would be made to rescue him, the
militia was called out. Chinatown, which was tmcom-
fortably close to the jail, appealed to the mayor for
protection and barricaded its flimsy houses. Nothing
happened, however, as is always the case when the au-
thorities show energy and decision; and during the next
three or four days several of Kearney's disciples were
arrested while imitating his thunder.

This was as salutary for the city as for the W. P. C.
It proved that the agitators were cowards and could be
relied upon to make no war-like move unless inflamed by
the eloquence of Mr. Kearney at first hand. Naturally,
he could not harangue them from the inside of the jail,
an4 they let him stay there. He and his disciples finally

»99

CALIFORNIA

broke down, wept, protested that they had meant no
harm, promised to call no more mass-meetings and lead
no more mobs, and, in fact, to do nothing to excite further
riot. So they were forgiven and told to go home and
behave themselves. When Kearney emerged his own
dray was waiting. He was crowned with roses, heaved
on to it, and dragged to his headquarters by his still en-
thusiastic supporters.

Kearney had given a promise very difficult for him to
keep. Much as he disliked jail and its discomforts, he
loved the limelight more. So he stimiped the state, pre-
tending to talk the politics of the new party, but in reality
trying to organize a vast "army." The farmer and the
country laborer, however, sent him so promptly about his
business that he returned a trifle wiser to San Francisco,
and, as he had lost his influence with the superior men of
the W. P. C, made desperate attempts to regain it. Ap-
pear on the first page of the newspapers and be discussed
at the breakfast-table he must, if life were to be the
prismatic orgie of his paranoiac dreams.

His influence with the superior men of the W. P. C.
was gone beyond recall, but San Francisco could be relied
upon to furnish a respectable following of hoodlums, vaga-
bonds, criminals, and the hopelessly ignorant of the labor-
ing-class; and again he led processions, this time to the
City Hall to demand work, and harangued them in the
sand-lots; he even had a new set of words and phrases
to express his contempt of those upon whom fortime had
deigned to smile. No notice was taken until he began
to counsel lynching, burning the docks, and dropping
bombs from balloons into the Chinese quarter.

Then the Committee of Safety reorganized. The au-

300

''THE CHINESE MUST GO'*

thorities, however, were now on their mettle and prompt-
ly rearrested Kearney and the worst of the soap-box
offenders. Once more these wept, promised, and were
discharged. The legislature passed the "Gag law," how-
ever, an amendment to the penal code, by whose pro-
vision such men as Kearney could be sent to prison for
felony if they continued to incite riots. It also provided
for a larger police force. Kearney, who was well aware
that he had been discharged twice because there was no
law to cover his offense, and send him to San Quentin,
was now thoroughly disconcerted, and transferred his
attentions to the elections and the proposed constitu-
tional convention.

The working-man's party was now very strong — the
W. P. C. of San Francisco was reinforced by ' ' the Granger
party" of the state. In November, 1878, it elected a
senator to the new legislature, and in March, at the regu-
lar city elections, it elected another senator and an
assemblyman. In Sacramento and Oakland it elected
its own candidates for mayor and certain other official
positions. In a convention held in January it had adopted
resolutions to sever all connection with the Republican
and Democratic parties. A new party was in the field,
and it began to look formidable. "The Chinese must go"
was its war-cry.

The best and wisest thing it did was to expel Kearney
from the office of president (May 6, 1878), alleging that
he was corrupt and using the organization to advance his
own selfish ends. This resulted in a split, with Kearney
at the head of the faction that admired his oratory.
Moreover, he was a wiry little Irish fighter, and there
is ever a magic in the oft-reiterated name. Kearney's

301

CALIFORNIA

picture, with the familiar sweater, collarless, had been
published in many an Eastern newspaper. He was still
a great man.

The W. P. C, however split, was a distinct menace, and
an attempt was made to fuse the Republican and Demo-
cratic parties to fight the common enemy. This proved
to be impossible before 1880. An act for calling a con-
vention to change the constitution was due to the strength
of the new party. It passed the legislature April i, 1878,
and was signed by Governor Irwin.

The personnel of this constitutional convention was far
more remarkable and significant than that of the one
which created a state in 1849. On June 19th the election
for delegates resulted in 78 non-partisans, including 32
delegates at large; 51 working-men, including 31 dele-
gates from San Francisco; 11 Republicans; 10 Demo-
crats; and two independents. There were lawyers,
farmers, mechanics, merchants, doctors, miners, jour-
nalists, school-teachers, music-teachers, restaurant-keep-
ers, and a cook.

The W. P. C. wing was partly communistic, partly
anarchistic. The conservative wing of the convention
was said to possess more men of brains, experience, and
ripe judgment than any assemblage in the history of the
state. The thinking people were alive to the danger to
their republican institutions, which, however faulty, were
far better than any yet devised by man. They were out-
numbered, but if driven to extremities they meant to
make the new constitution so radical that the people
would not elect it. It is not for a moment to be denied
that the corporations were represented among these men,
but it must be remembered that they believed it to be a

302

''THE CHINESE MUST GO"

death-struggle, and the "classes" no more could be ex-
pected to lay down their arms and surrender than the
"masses."

There is no question that however passion may have
blinded the men of the laboring-class and whipped them
on to make absurd demands upon the impregnable for-
tress of modern civilization, they were justified in
their fears for the future of their class on the Pacific
coast if no restraint were put upon Oriental immigration.
The Chinese underbid the white man in the shops, fac-
tories, railroad-yards, hotels, fruit-ranches, private houses;
they lived on rice, sent their wages to China, were highly
efficient ; and they were well liked by employers not only
on account of their skill and industry, but because they
were polite, even-tempered, and sober. Formidable
rivals, indeed, and, although the employer, particularly
the asparagus-raiser and the housewife, will always regret
them, it is plain justice that in a white man's country
the white man should have no rival but himself.

James Bryce, in The American Commonwealth, has stated
very succinctly the grievances presented by the W. P. C.
at the convention, as well as their achievement.

THE GRIEVANCES

The general corruption of politicians and bad conduct of state,
county, and city government.
Taxation, alleged to press too heavily on the poorer class.
The tyranny of corporations, especially railroads.
The Chinese.

THE RESULTS

I. It (the convention) restricts and limits in every possible way
the powers of the state legislature, leaving it little authority except to
carry out by Statute the provisions of the constitution. It makes lob-
bying (i. e., the attempt to corrupt a legislator) and the corrupt action
of the legislator felony.

20 303

CALIFORNIA^

a. It forbids the state legislature or local authorities to incur debts
beyond a certain Umit, taxes uncultivated land equally with the culti-
vated, makes sums due on mortgage taxable in the district where the
mortgaged property lies, authorizes an income tax, and directs a
highly inquisitorial scrutiny of evetybody's property for the pur-
poses of taxation.

3. It forbids the watering of stock, declares that the state has power
to prevent corporations from conducting their business so as to infringe
the general well-being of the state; directs that the charges of tele-
graph and gas companies and of water-supplying bodies be regulated
and limited by law; institutes a railroad commission with power to
fix the transportation rates on all railroads, and examine the books
and accounts of all transportation companies.

4. It forbids all corporations to employ any Chinese, debars them
from the suffrage, forbids their employment on any public works,
annuls all contracts for "coolie labor," directs the legislature to pro-
vide for the punishment of any company which shall import Chinese,
to impose conditions on the residence of Chinese, and to cause their
removal if they fail to observe these conditions.

5. It also declares that eight hours shall constitute a legal day's
work on all public works.

To-day these provisions of the constitution of 1879 are
merely a curiosity. It was elected by the people be-
cause many voters were napping (as usual), but the net
result for the working-man's party was nil, with the ex-
ception of the provision for an eight-hour working-day.
When the Chinese were excluded it was by the federal
government, and those that remained in the state were
always sure of employment; and as a temporary fusion
of Democrats and Republicans in 1880 drove the W. P.
C. out of existence, and as clever lawyers argued that
many of the provisions of the new instrument were un-
constitutional, and as, moreover, clever and more clever
men went to successive legislatures, the stronger con-
tinued as ever to do as they pleased, constitution or no
constitution; and, as the strong has done since the be-
ginning of time, used their power to the full for the benefit

304

"THE CHINESE MUST GO"

of their own class and laughed at the impotent anger of
the weak. There is no lesson so persistently taught by
history as this, and it would be well for idealists, Uto-
pians, socialists, communists, single-taxers, labor-union-
ists, and all the rest of them to read it, accept it, digest it,
and then either make the best of conditions as they are
or find a leader, cultivate their brains, let alcohol alone,
avoid windy agitators like plague-bearing rats, sink petty
differences, and consolidate. And the best they may do
will be as naught imless they find a great leader.

This convention sat for one hundred and fifty-seven
days. Of course much time was constmied in speeches
on the Chinese exclusion question. There were excep-
tional chances for oratory. It is to be noted that a num-
ber of far-sighted and liberal-minded persons attempted
to insert a plank giving the suffrage to women. But they
were too far ahead of their times, and the motion was de-
feated. Altogether it may be inferred that the conven-
tion upheld the best traditions of California in the acri-
monious liveliness of its atmosphere, the choiceness of its
invective, the absurdity of many of its motions, and the
dissatisfaction and disgust of everybody concerned. Of
course no one got what he wanted except the proletariat,
and he suffered from doubts even then.

A number of the eminent men present — ^W. H. L.
Barnes, Eugene Casserly, Samuel M. Wilson, John F.
Miller — ^refused to sign the instrument at all, and it is
probable that such men as Judge Hager, Henry Edgerton,
J. West Martin, James McM. Shafter, J. J. Winans,
wrote their names only because they feared for the fail-
ure of the convention and the election of another with
an eyen worse personnel.

305

CALIFORNIA

It is not to be supposed that no good laws were passed
by this angry and desperate convention. The judiciary
department was remodeled, prison regulations were im-
proved, convict labor was prohibited, as well as the grant-
ing of railroad passes (another dead letter), the Univer-
sity of California was recognized as a public trust, to be
maintained by the state and kept free of all political and
sectarian control and open to both sexes. The eight-
hour law was passed, proving the forerunner of a general
eight-hour law. But the attempt to "cinch" capital ut-
terly failed.

In 1879 California voted against further immigration
from China, the vote standing 154,638 to 883. Pressure
had already been brought to bear upon Congress, and
on March 20th the Exclusion Bill passed. President
Hayes refused to sign it, as being in conflict with the
Burlingame Treaty, which provided that "Chinese sub-
jects in the United States shall enjoy entire liberty of con-
science and shall be exempt from all persecution and
disability." In 1880 a commission was sent to Pekin to
negotiate a new treaty permitting the restriction of im-
migration. This treaty was ratified by the Senate in
March, 1881. It gave the United States the power to
"regulate, limit, or suspend" the immigration of the
United States, but not to prohibit it altogether. By
tinkering at this treaty, employing the amendment
method, the Chinese were virtually excluded, and the
conditions of re-entry for those already resident in the
United States, who wished to visit China, were so severe
and harassing that a large proportion made no attempt
to return to California.

As for Dennis Kearney, he was (Jispo^4 pf by bein^

**THE CHINESE MUST GO'*

made a capitalist in a small way, and so adroitly that
no doubt he awakened one morning to find himself no
longer famous, but rich. I met him shortly before his
death, and asked him how he reconciled his present con-
ditions with his former socialistic principles, and he re-
plied lightly:

"Oh, you know, somebody has to do the work. What's
the use?"

XXII

LAST PHASES

All things being relative, San Francisco for some fifteen
or twenty years after the housecleaning given it by the
Vigilance Committee of 1856 was a peaceful and decent
city. But, as ever, its citizens ceased to be alert to any
but their personal affairs, particularly during the Corn-
stock madness; and, logically, the body politic, unpro-
tected by renewed vaccination, fell an easy prey to the
insidious and venomous microbes of the underworld; and
before the city realized that its system was even relaxed,
"run down," it had broken out virulently in several
places. Nor did the hostile swarms confine their activi-
ties to the police, the professional politician, the munici-
pal organs generally; eminent citizens were infected —
and they are still fumigating themselves.

Following the denunciations of the Sand-lotters, which
no one attempted to refute in toto, there was a reaction
in favor of the upper classes, owing to the intemperate
excesses of the W. P. C. and the new constitution they
were instrumental in foisting upon California. But in
the course of the next fifteen years many besides the pro-
letariat were awake and alarmed at the dangers threaten-
ing the city. The Wallace grand jury was impaneled
in August, 1 89 1. The exposures of this body, after in-
vestigations made under the greatest difficulties, so se-

308

LAST PHASES

curely were the malefactors intrenched, proved a system
of wholesale bribery and corruption by corporations,
legislators, and supervisors.

For some years San Francisco had been dominated by
"bosses," the most notorious and shameless of whom
was "Blind" Boss Buckley. (The others are too con-
temptible for more than a passing mention.) All of them,
and Buckley in particular, were experts in every form of
extortion, oppression, and demoralization of their army
of human tools. The investigations of the Wallace grand
jury startled complacent San Francisco, and Buckley fled
to return no more; but there was little improvement in
conditions until another sudden awakening of the civic
conscience swept Mr. James D. Phelan into the mayor's
chair in 1897.

One of the crying needs of San Francisco was a new
charter granting enlarged powers to the mayor, for the
exercise of which he would be directly responsible. As
the case stood he might be an angel of light, but his hands
were tied; the legislature passed nearly all laws for San
Francisco, and behind that august body of sea-green
incorruptibleg the "machine" could hide and shift re-
sponsibility as it listed.

Mr. Phelan at once appointed a committee of one hun-
dred citizens to draft a charter; and, what was more to
the point, he put it through. It provided for a respon-
sible government, civil-service reform, and home rule, and
declared for municipal ownership of those public utili-
ties, light, water, transportation, so preyed upon and de-
bauched by the municipal council, which had the power
to fix the rates.

Mr. Phelan was mayor of San Francisco for five years,

309

CALIFORNIA

and, in the estimation of any impartial student of that
politics-ridden town, was the ablest and most energetic
in her annals. It would be an insult to add that he was
honest if he were not a San Franciscan, and the tempta-
tion to do so is irresistible, because California officials who
are able, energetic, and honest are so rare that they should
have at least plaster statues while alive; to be bronzed
over or not, as an impartial and discriminating posterity
shall advise.

Mr. Phelan stood firmly with the people against the
bosses, exposed the fraudulent specifications of the light-
ing monopoly, and saved the people three himdred thou-
sand dollars a year; defended the city from pillage at the
hands of the supervisors, among other amounts, divert-
ing two million dollars from reaching their itching palms
by "blocking jobs"; raised the standard of the pay of
laborers in the city's employ; and gave back to San
Francisco in public gifts many times his salary as mayor.

Our rich men of late years have been so culpably
negligent of San Francisco's interests, so long as their
own have prospered, that too much emphasis cannot be
laid upon Mr. Phelan's sleepless and practical concern for
his city, quite apart from his munificent donations and
his unostentatious help to so many in private life, and his
presentation to the city of the best of its statues. His
father made the fortune which he inherited and doubled,
and if he had chosen to devote all his energies to business,
or even if it had been his disposition to loaf, no one woiild
have been surprised or critical. Nor, oddly enough,
would he have made one-tenth of the enemies he accumu-
lated while striving to clean up San Francisco. If he had
been poor and originally obscure he would have been for-

310

JAMES D. PHELAN

LAST PHASES

given, for Americans seem to imderstand and forgive
ambition and public efforts in the impecunious; but in
new communities, at least, symptoms of civic decency in a
rich man are regarded with alarm as a new and mysteri-
ous germ which may prostrate the entire order. When
the symptoms develop into aggression they are for stamp-
ing the traitor out of existence. All sorts of mean mo-
tives are ascribed to him, the press sneers and villifies,
he falls a victim to the cartoonist, and only his friends
and solid money respect him. If he survives and pur-
sues his undeviating way this phenomenon is due to two
causes only: his sta5dng-powers and the basic common
sense of the American people. As Abraham Lincoln
once remarked, "You can fool, etc."

During the last two years of Mr. Phelan's incumbency
there were serious labor troubles. Capital assumed a
hostile attitude to large bodies of working-men striking
not only for more pay, but for recognition of the imion;
and labor in turn becoming still more hostile, the two
camps, even after the "Teamsters' Strike" was settled,
remained armed and bristling. The result was the rise
of Abraham Ruef and his creature, Eugene E. Schmitz.

Ruef was a little ferret-faced, black-eyed French Jew,
of abilities so striking that he could have become one of
the most respected and useful citizens in the history of
San Francisco had he not deliberately chosen the "crook-
ed" r61e. Sentimentalists cannot argue in Ruef's case
that "he never had a chance." He was of well-to-do
parents, he finished his education at the University of
California, graduated into the law, and had a lucrative
practice from the beginning. But although his worst
personal indulgence was "candy," he was one of the most

311

CALIFORNIA

innately vicious men this country has spawned, and one
of the most destructive incubated by poor San Francisco.

The stiff-necked attitude of the Employers' Organiza-
tion, which denied labor's right to unionize, gave Ruef his
opportunity. He skilftilly engineered his friend Schmitz,
an imposing, bluff, and hearty person, and a real man of
the people, having been a fiddler in a local opera com-
pany, into the mayor's chair with little or no difficulty.
The class line was as sharply drawn as the earthquake
fault, and the proletariat and his sympathizers outnum-
bered the others and voted with entire independence of
party lines. They wanted a labor-union man; to his bias
otherwise they were indifferent. This fine figurehead at
the prow, Ruef began to build up his machine.

The board of supervisors during the first two years
of the Schmitz incumbency continued to be the decent
men natural to Mr. Phelan's administration; for even
Ruef, with his brilliant if distorted talents for organiza-
tion, could not upset the work of an honest mayor as
quickly as he had hoped. But he went on fomenting
class-hatred to his own advantage and that of Schmitz,
and simultaneously they grew rich by grafting on vice,
forcing that class of establishments euphemistically known
in San Francisco as "French restaurants " to pay an enor-
mous tribute, under threat of revocation of license.

When in the elections of 1905 Schmitz was found to
have lost strength with the Labor-union party, always
prone to fickleness and suspicion, and to have polled a
heavy vote in capitalistic districts, citizens shrugged their
shoulders and "guessed" that the stories of the Ruef-
Schmitz machine, holding up corporations and rich men
for large sums before granting franchises, were true,

319

LAST PHASES

The Evening Bulletin, true to its traditions, and edited
by Fremont Older, of the genuine militant brandy had
been thundering for some time against the police board
and the administrative boards of the machine, which
were making no visible use of the money raised by
taxation for specific purposes. The police board could
be bought by any violator of the law who came to it with
the price in his hand. But the result of the elections fur-
nished Mr. Older with new and forked lightning; the heavy
vote polled for Schmitz was in the wrong quarter, and
the board of supervisors were Ruef's tools, chosen from
the dregs of the working-class, men with no inherited
ideals to give them moral stamina, and utterly unable to
resist temptation in the form of the large simi that would
fall to each after Ruef and Schmitz, having "gouged"
some impatient corporation, had divided the lion's share.
Then once more the citizens of San Francisco "sat up,"
awake to the new perils that threatened their battered
city.

But although the Ruef-Schmitz machine looked as
formidable as an invading horde of locusts in Kansas,
and grew more arrogant every day, more contemptuous
of public opinion, it had its weak spots. Ruef in January^
1906, made the irretrievable blunder of putting an honest
man in office. Apprehending that Schmitz was losing his
hold on the Labor-union party, he permitted William A.
LangdoUj superintendent of schools, and possessing a large
following in labor circles, to be elected district attorney.
When he made the discovery that Mr. Langdon was quite
honest and nobody's creature, his amazement and wrath
would have been ludicrous if they had not been pathetic.

No sooner had Mr. Langdon taken the oath of office

313

CALIFORNIA

than he began a series of raids on the various gambling
institutions which paid a heavy tribute to the machine
but flourished nevertheless.

Of course, San Francisco has always been a gambling
city. It is in the marrow and brain-cells of her people,
whether their blood ancestors were "Forty-niners" or
not, and as there is no evil out of which good may not
come, it is the source of their superb powers of bluff,
their unquenchable optimism, and their indomitability
under the most harrowing afflictions. When, after the
earthquake and fire of 1906, the world was startled to
learn that the people of San Francisco were planning to
rebuild before the ashes were cold, David Belasco said
to a reporter, "The Calif ornians are bully gamblers!"

Therefore, when Mr. Langdon made it manifest that
he purposed to put an end to the industrial manifestation
of the race spirit, there was not only a terrific howl from
his victims, but the well-regulated citizens themselves
were amazed. Mr. Langdon, however, paid as little at-
tention to one as to the other. He brought down the
heavy hand of the law on the Emeryville Race -track
(the most sordid and wholly abominable in the West),
and upon the slot-machine, that lucrative partner of the
saloon and the cigar-stand. In the ordinary course of
events he would be crippled for funds; legal investiga-
tion and prosecution were necessary, and the coffers of
the city were in the robber stronghold. But Ruef had
discovered some time since that there was another dark
cloud on his horizon and that in the middle of it was a
star. And while the star directed a cold and hostile
gleam on Mr. Ruef, it was the bright hope of the district
attorney.

314

LAST PHASES

Rudolph Spreckels it was who proved to be the nemesis
of Ruef. This very remarkable yoimg man had left his
father's roof when a boy of nineteen, taking the part of
a brother whom he believed to be a victim of parental
injustice. Then he proceeded to make his own fortune;
and, having that special group of brain-cells which con-
stitute the talent for making money, he was, in the course
of a few years, one of the richest men in the commimity.
Until 1903 business and the enjojmient of life in a quiet
way occupied him fully, but by Abraham Ruef — ^unwit-
ting savior of his city ! — ^his eyes were opened to the needs
and perils of San Francisco.

Ruef, with the serene confidence of the congenitally
corrupt that every man has his price, approached the
young financier with a particularly abominable plan for
enriching himself at the expense of the city, and Mr.
Spreckels suddenly woke up. His enlightenment was com-
pleted by Mr. Phelan and Fremont Older. He applied
himself to a thorough study of existing civic conditions,
and was horrified to discover that for viciousness and
general rottenness San Francisco could vie proudly with
the worst cities of ancient or modem history.

He was emphatically the man for the hour. He was
young, rich, energetic, honorable, implacable, ruthless,
and tenacious. Mr. Phelan could help him with advice
and money, but he had made too many enemies among the
grafters of all classes during his five years as mayor to be
an effective leader. Mr. Spreckels was greeted as a sort
of knight of the Holy Grail; for in the beginning, when his
sole intention was to crush the Ruef-Schmitz machine
and imprison its chiefs and tools, he was acclaimed by
^ven that capitalistic class that later accused him of

CALIFORNIA

every contemptible motive and trait revealed in the
course of human history.

Ruef also made his investigations and discovered that
Mr. Spreckels had built his fortune honestly, and was,
therefore, unbribable. This, of cotuse, was before 1906,
and when the anachronistic Mr. Langdon grasped the
reins carelessly tossed him by the idol of the Labor party,
it became immediately apparent that if the machine
would not furnish the money for the investigations and
reforms Mr. Spreckels would. Moreover, Mr. Phelan,
Mr. Older, and Mr. Spreckels had seciu-ed the services of
Attorney Francis J. Heney, and induced President Roose-
velt to give them the services of Detective Burns, then
employed by the United States.

Then came the earthquake and fire of April, 1906.
The reader may remember that old melodrama, "The
Silver King," and the escaping convict who, watching the
train on which he had escaped blazing from end to
end with its imprisoned victims — ^he being almost the
only survivor^falls on his knees and thanks God. Pic-
ture Mr. Ruef as he watched San Francisco burning. The
crippled millionaires, including Mr. Phelan and Mr.
Spreckels, would be occupied with their own affairs for
years to come. He and Schmitz were free. So profoimd
a student of human nature was Mr. Ruef.

An hour or two after the earthquake, when it became
apparent that a large part of San Francisco would burn,
the pipes of the water system being broken and thirty
fires having started simultaneously, Mr. Downey Har-
vey, a grandson of the "War Governor," John G. Dow-
ney, and himself a citizen of wealth and influence, went
^own to Mayor Schmitz's office and suggested that im-

316

LAST PHASES

mediate measures be taken for the protection of the city
and the reHef of the homeless — who were already fleeing
to the Presidio and the hills beyond the city. Every-
body on that terrible day was either at a pitch above
the normal or hopelessly demoralized. Schmitz, being a
musician, had a temperament ; consequently he was in the
upper register. Morally supported by the "Committee
of Fifty" that he called together at Mr. Harvey's sug-
gestion, he proved himself as admirable an administra-
tive officer as if life had groomed him to be a symbol
of all the civic virtues. In truth, he was a weak man of
good intentions^ but putty in the hands of a tnan like
Ruef.

Mr. Phelan, during the first day or two, was busy in
actual rescue work and in carrying dynamite in his car
for the piupose of blowing up buildings — a vain attempt
to prevent the spread of the fire. But he was elected
chairman of the Citizens' Finance Committee, and to him
as great a compliment was paid as to Mr. Coleman in
1878. Congress voted a million and a half dollars for the
relief of San Francisco, but hesitated to send it via Ruef-
Schmitz. When, however. President Roosevelt was in-
formed that Mr. Phelan had been made chairman of the
Citizens' Finance Committee, he sent him the money per-
sonally. The President also issiied a proclamation direct-
ing the people of the United States to send their contri-
butions to Mr. Phelan, chairman of the Citizens' Finance
Committee; and the corporation growing out of this
committee received all the supplies and approximately
$10,000,000 in money.

Mr. Phelan as well as Mr. Spreckels and Mr. Har-
vey, and all the other men on the committee, neglected

CALIFORNIA

their private affairs for months, and the refugees were
housed on the hillsides either in tents or cottages, fed,
clothed, and generally taken care of. Ruef accepted the
temporary domination of the committee with apparent
philosophy, and himself opened an office just beyond the
burned district, obviously adjusting matters for his legal
clients. In reality he was looting right and left, preying
upon the women of commerce, the bootblacks, the news-
boys, the small shopkeepers, upon every class, in fact, to
which his tentacles had reached during the years of his
autocracy.

But Mr. Spreckels did not forget him nor his ultimate
object for a moment. Heney, when he promised his ser-
vices, was still engaged in exposing the Oregon land frauds,
but he was free in June. Then he came to town, and with
him Detective Btuns. This was only two months after
the disaster ; but although Ruef was surprised, he was not
particularly apprehensive; he did not believe that they
could make any headway in the existing conditions.

In October siifficient evidence of extortion in the mat-
ter of the French restaurants had been accumtilated to
warrant District-Attorney Langdon announcing that a
general investigation would begin at once. He appointed
Mr. Heney assistant district attorney.

This was six months after the earthquake. Men never
alluded to it any more. The women still talked nothing
but earthquake and fire; but the men talked only in-
surance and rebuilding. They went about dressed in
khaki and top-boots, exhilarated by the tremendous call
upon their energies, and with all the old pioneer spirit
reincarnated and intensified by the consciousness that
they were about to build a great city, not merely using

318

LAST PHASES

its site while "making their pile" to dissipate at a
gambling-table or carry elsewhere. And this time they
wanted a decent city. Schmitz, resting on his labors,
had gone to Europe, and they had no intention of re-
electing him.

Ruef was thoroughly frightened. But he was ever a
man of resource; he suddenly played one of the boldest
coups in the history of any city. Mr. Langdon was off
campaigning for the governorship; T. H. Gallagher,
president of the board of supervisors, was acting-mayor,
and, of course, a creature of the Chief. He was ;^ordered
to remove Langdon from the district-attomeyship on
the ground of neglect of duty and appoint Abraham Ruef.
The city held its breath and then emitted a roar of indigna-
tion; it was quite patent that San Francisco was not as
selfishly absorbed as Mr. Ruef had believed. The impu-
dence of this plot to dictate the personnel of the proposed
grand jury may be the better understood when it is re-
membered that the city had just been informed officially
of Mr. Ruef *s iniquities and that he would be subjected
to prosecution. But this attempt to balk justice was
summarily defeated; Judge Seawell, of the Superior Court,
held that as the district attorney represented the people
as a whole, the mayor had no jurisdiction over him.

After this events proceeded rapidly. On November
loth Judge Thomas F. Graham appointed a grand jury
to investigate the condition of the city. It was known as
the Oliver grand jury, Mr. B. F. Oliver having been
elected foreman. The other members were: Maurice
Block, C. G. Burnett, Jeremiah Deasy, Dewey Coffin,
Frank A. Dwyer, E. J. Gallagher, James E. Gordon,
Alfred Greenebaum, Morris A. Levingston, Rudolph

21 319

CALIFORNIA

Mohr, W. P. Redington, Ansel C. Robinson, Christian
P. Rode, Mendle Rothenberg, P. "G. Sanborn, Charies
Sonntag, Herman H. Young, Wallace G. Wise.

It will be observed that five members of the OHver
grand jury were of the same race as Ruef ; in fact, prac-
tically every denomination was represented. Many of
these men had close affiliations in the social and business
world with "eminent citizens" they were forced later on
to indict; but never did an investigating body do its
work more thoroughly and impersonally.

Like Mr. Spreckels, they met with encouragement at
first, their original and avowed piupose being to "get"
Ruef, Schmitz, and the supervisors, without whose consent
no franchise could be obtained.

It had been common talk for at least two years that
every man and corporation with capital to invest or
some new industry to launch was "held up" by the board
of supervisors before they could proceed. Capital of every
sort was grafted upon the moment it sought new outlets,
and rich men in condoling with one another had ceased
to comment upon the miseries of San Francisco in
general. Therefore, the Oliver grand jury, as well as
Mr. Heney and Detective Burns, thought that it would
be an easy matter to obtain affidavits from these dis-
tingmshed victims which would go far toward convicting
the malefactors. At that time they had not a thought
of prosecuting the "higher-ups." But, to their amaze-
ment, the rich men, individually and collectively, swore
that they never had been approached, never had paid a
cent of graft money. In the terminology of the hour,
they refused to "come through." It looked as if the
grand jury could not gather evidence enough to con-

320

JUDGE LAWLOR

RUDOLPH SPRFXKELS

FRANCIS J. HENEV

FREMONT OLDER

LAST PHASES

vict the machine of anything but the tribute levied on
vice.

Then it was that Mr. Heney and Mr. Bums and his de-
tectives changed their tactics. They offered immunity
to the supervisors if they would give the information nec-
essary to convict not the bribed, but the bribers. They
agreed, and the grand jury was enabled to find indict-
ments not only against Ruef and Schmitz, but against
Patrick Calhoun, president of the United Railroads, and
his manager. Thorn wall Mullaly; the finance committee
of the San Francisco Gas and Electric Company; the
agent of the Parkside Realty Company; the Home Tele-
phone; the Pacific Telephone, and the Prize-fight Trust.

It is only possible here to give a brief account of the
two principal trials. To quote from the Denman report:

The supervisors' testimony gave the grand jury the facts as to the
passing of the ordinances, the payment of the money by Gallagher
to various supervisors, and the payment of the money from Ruef to
Gallagher. The chain of evidence, however, stopped at Gallagher's
testimony that Ruef paid him the money in all but the Pacific Coast
Telephone briberies, and no further evidence was discovered against
the mayor in connection with the French restaurant extortions. The
question then arose as to the advisabiUty of treating with Ruef to
secure the evidence as to the method by which the moneys came from
the quasi-public corporations ... it became apparent that without
this man's testimony the many bribe-givers whose enrichment by the
large profits of such tmdertakings made them equally if not more
dangerous to society, woiild not only escape the penalty which was
their due, but that even their names would not be discovered and
written in the "detinue book" of the city's suspicious characters.
Besides, without Ruef 's assistance, the conviction of Schmitz, with the
resultant change in the mayoralty, the police, and other municipal
boards, seemed impossible. The district attorney had his choice in
this dilemma. He could leave the mayor and his administrative
boards in power, discover nothing regarding the profit-takers from
briberies, and content himself with a mere change in the supervisors
pud a long term of imprisonment for Ruef, or he could reasonably ex-

321

CALIFORNIA

pect the conviction of the mayor, the cleaning up of the city govern-
ment, the obtaining of a complete revelation of the grafters "high up "
as well as the "low down," and the possible conviction of some of
them. The district attorney chose the latter alternative and bar-
gained with Ruef . ... A written contract was finally signed whereby
Ruef agreed to tell fully and unreservedly all he knew of the briberies
and to plead guilty to certain of the French restaurant extortion cases,
and the district attorney agreed to use the power of his office to pro-
cure him immunity as to the other charges.

Complete immunity never was promised.

Schmitz was tried and found guilty on Ruef's testi-
mony, and convicted on June 13, 1907. He was subse-
quently released on a technicality. Although Ruef had
pleaded guilty to accepting bribes during his own trial,
he also escaped the penalty imder the decision which
freed Schmitz.

Sixteen supervisors had confessed to receiving bribe-
money from their president, Gallagher, who, of course, con-
fessed that he got it from the Chief. Ruef was again in-
dicted and made desperate efforts to escape prosecution,
including a change of venue. All devices failing, he ran
away. His friends, the sheriff, the coroner, and the po-
lice force failed to find him, but an elisor named by the
court tmearthed him. It was then that he bargained with
the district attorney.

But Ruef, after promising to "come through" (in
which case he would have been prosecuted for the French
restaurant cases alone), fell into a panic as he reflected
upon the condign punishment stire to be visited upon
him did he betray his powerful associates; he resolved
not to "snitch" — to quote once more from the elegant
vocabulary of the moment — ^and attempted to pretend
confession while admitting nothing.

But Heney was far more agile of mind than the now

322

LAST PHASES

distracted Ruef. He caught him lying and exposed him.
The immunity was canceled, and he was brought to his
second trial in the bribery transactions, August 26, 1908.
These trials — ^financed by Rudolph Spreckels — ^were con-
ducted in Carpenter's Hall in Fulton Street, just beyond
the burnt district, and before Judge Lawlor.

The chief witness against Ruef was the president of
the board of supervisors, T. H. Gallagher. On April 29,
1908, his house in Oakland was wrecked by dynamite,
but the witness whose life was sought survived and gave
his testimony. The man who placed the bomb testified
that he was employed by a henchman of Ruef.

This attempt at murder had been preceded by the
kidnapping of Fremont Older, whose thimders in the
Bulletin had never ceased. Naturally, statements crept
into those inflammatory columns that were not wholly
substantiated. One day Mr. Older accidentally printed
a libel. He made amends on the following day, but he
had given the enemies of the prosecution one of the
chances for which they had been lying in wait. The
libeled man had Mr. Older indicted in Los Angeles. Mr.
Older ignored the summons, knowing well that if he went
to Los Angeles he would remain there until the trials
were over.

On October 27, 1907, he was lured by a false tele-
phone message into a quiet street and forced, by several
men, into an automobile, which dashed through and out
of the city. The muzzle of a "gun" was pressed against
Mr. Older's side; but he was wise enough not to struggle.
A south-bound train was boarded at a way-station, and
Mr. Older shut up in a drawing-room. One of the kid-
nappers was an attorney for the United Railroads, R.

323

CALIFORNIA

Porter Ashe, a son of the Dr. Ashe, friend of Terry
and other "Law and Order" men of 1856, who so bitterly
opposed the Vigilance Committee.

The plot did not succeed. The hue and cry was raised
by suspicious friends in San Francisco, and Mr. Older and
his kidnappers were traced. The authorities in Santa
Barbara were appealed to, and when the train arrived in
the morning the party was commanded to appear in court,
and Mr. Older was released. The net result of this epi-
sode was the "reform" of the spelling of the word "kid-
napped," which, as may be imagined, was overworked.
It is now spelt — and presumably pronoimced — ^by the
California press, kidnaped.

In November, 1908, an attempt was made on the life
of Mr. Heney. The San Francisco newspapers, with the
exception of the Bulletin and the Call, by this time were
indulging in furious attacks on the various members of
the prosecution, and upon Heney in particular. The at-
tacks were necessarily personal, as they would not have
dared to defend Ruef , even had they been so inclined, but
no doubt they were actuated by fear that Heney's hector-
ing methods would surprise the names of the "higher-
ups" from the defiant Ruef, now in his third trial. Their
diatribes, assisted by cartoons, were held responsible for the
attempted murder of the assistant district attorney; but
the general opinion is that the man was a hired assassin.
His name was Haas. There was little doubt that at-
tempts were being made to "fix" the jury; and, as this
man had boasted that he soon would be able to live in
luxury, Heney succeeded in getting him off the third
jury by exposing the fact that Haas had sojourned in a
State's Prison for forgery. He was altogether a miserable

324

GOV. HIRAM JOHNSON

LAST PHASES

specimen of humanity. On the 13 th of November he
slipped up behind Mr. Heney in the crowded court-room
and fired a pistol-bullet into his head, just before his right
ear. Heney's mouth happened to be open. The ball passed
between the skull and jaw and exhausted its strength in
the soft lining at the back of the mouth, finally lodging
in the bone of the jaw on the opposite side.

There was great excitement in Fulton Street that day.
The old-time crowds were there, wrought up to the point
of hysteria, and there was much speechmaking and talk
of l5mching. But it ended in no overt attempt to frus-
trate the law, and Haas meanwhile had been rushed to
jail in an automobile. When searched, no other weapon
was discovered, but that night he was found dead from a
derringer wound in his head. Whether the derringer had
been concealed in his shoe or whether it had been passed
to him in his cell with orders to use it, or whether he was
miirdered, will probably never be known. He certainly
knew too much to be permitted to stand the "third
degree."

Heney was ill from the shock, although his only per-
manent disability was deafness in one ear. The prose-
cution of the Ruef case was continued by Matt I. Sulli-
van and Hiram Johnson, one of the ablest lawyers in
San Francisco, and in full sympathy with the prosecution.

Probably Ruef himself was not more astonished, when
he actually was convicted and sentenced to fourteen
years in the penitentiary, than San Francisco, so long
accustomed to the miscarriage of "justice," particularly
when the prosecuted was a rich man. But Ruef, at least,
is out of the way.

The next sensational trial was that of Patrick Cal-

32s

CALIFORNIA

houn, a gentleman of variegated record, handsome ap-
pearance, and fascinating personality, who had honored
San Francisco with his citizenship for several years and
was now president of the United Railroads. There is
no space to devote to this trial, which was spun out over
many weary months. He wanted an overhead trolley
system, and obtained the franchise from the Ruef-
Schmitz machine. His best friends never denied in
private conversation that he had paid over at least two
himdred thousand dollars, although he denied the charges
in toto when, after indictment by the grand jury, he was
brought before the bar. Witnesses disappeared, the jury-
men were bribed, and copies of the reports of the govern-
ment's detectives were stolen. It was impossible to con-
vict him legally.

The bringing of Calhoun to trial was the signal for a
disruption of society rivaling that caused by the Civil
War. So many of the men whose families composed
society were in danger of a similar indictment that they
naturally herded together; and Mr. Calhoim being a
social ornament, the wives were as vehement in his sup-
port as their husbands. Mrs. Spreckels, who enjoyed
a brilliant position at Burlingame, the concentrated es-
sence of California society, suddenly foimd herself an out-
sider. So did Mrs. Heney, who was a member of one of
the old Southern families. Mr. Phelan also was ostra-
cised; and the few people of wealth and fashion that
stood by the prosecutors were for a time in a similar
plight. One wife of a suspected millionaire and personal
friend of Calhoun went so far as to demand the politics
of her guests as they crossed her threshold. And among
all there was a bitterness unspeakable.

326

LAST PHASES

But although Calhoun could not be convicted, nor the
few others that were brought to trial, the prosecution at
least accomplished a moral fumigation. The first evi-
dence of this was the election to the mayoralty, after the
deposition of Schmitz, of Dr. Edward Robeson Taylor.
The second was the triumphant personal campaign for
governor of Hiram Johnson. The whole state had fol-
lowed the trials, condemned the grafters, and made up
its mind to elect the best men to office. Of course, that
high pitch of enthusiasm does not last ; and as Dr. Taylor
refused to build up a machine of decent men, the next
mayor was an objectional person named P. H. McCarthy.
He disgusted the Labor party, however, and they helped
to elect Mr. Rolph, the present mayor, with whom all
parties are as satisfied as they ever are with any one.

The most interesting event which followed the graft
prosecutions and their direct results was the passing of
the Woman's Suffrage Bill in 191 1. Conservative peo-
ple and the liquor trust fought the campaign success-
fully in San Francisco; but the women, who had taken
motors and visited practically every farmer and hamlet
in the state, won with the country vote. What changes
they will make in the moral conditions of the state re-
main to be seen, but there is no question that the cam-
paign and its encouraging result have awakened the minds
of the California women and developed them intellectu-
ally. They read better books, take an interest in public
questions, quite ignored before, are making constant at-
tempts to improve the condition of the poor women and
children; and at the San Francisco Center of the Civic
League some great or pressing question of the day is
discussed by the best authorities obtainable. Its weekly

327

CALIFORNIA

meetings are patronized by hundreds of women, and all
men invited have long since foimd it quite worth their
while to attend.

California, cleaned up as thoroughly as may be, is
flourishing and happy, secure in the fact that with her
enormous grain-supply and orchards and vineyards and
cattle-ranges, her thousand healing springs, she never
can go bankrupt, no matter how hard the times, and
that her perennial beauties will bring many hundreds
of thousands of dollars into the state annually: the
tourist never deserts California, and her winter cities
in the south are always crowded by the people of the
Eastern states that dread the cold of their own winters,
and by those from the mountain states of the North-
west, who long for sea-air and low altitudes. No matter
what happens in the world beyond the Rocky Moimtains
or the Pacific Ocean, her orange-groves bear their yellow
fruit, her skies are bluer than Italy's, her people are idle
and luxurious and happy in the warm abundant south, or
bustling, energetic, and keenly alive in San Francisco —
which is no more California than Paris is France. She is
the permanent resort of cranks, and faddists, and extrem-
ists, and professional agitators and loafers, but they are in
the minority despite their noise. As a whole the state is
one of the most dependable, patriotic, and honorable in
the Union, and has produced great personalities, eminent
and good men, and brilliant and gifted minds out of all
proportion to her age. May the fools and extremists
never wreck her!

PRUNE-ORCHARD

WHEAT-FIELU

Herewith a list of men and women identified with Califor-
nia's artistic life:

Poets — Ina Donna Coolbrith, Joaquin Miller, Bret Harte,
Charles Warren Stoddard, Edwin Markham, Edward Robe-
son Taylor, Luis Robertson, Agnes Tobin, and George Stirling.

Writers of Fiction — Bret Harte, Ambrose Bierce, William
C. Morrow, Frank Norris, Jack London, Stewart Edward White,
Herman Whittaker, Richard Tully, Hermann Scheffauer,
Charles F. Lummis, John Vance Cheney, James Hopper,
Emma Francis Dawson, Elizabeth Dejeans, Elinor Gates,
Gelett Burgess, Mary Austin, John Fleming Wilson, Charles
Field, Miriam Michaelson, Geraldine Bonner, Cora Miranda
Older, Kate Taylor Craig, Lloyd Osborne, Esther and Lucia
Chamberlain, Kathleen Norris, Wallace Irwin, Chester Bailey
Femald, and my humble self.

Horace Annesley Vachell spent several years near San Luis
Obespo and wrote a number of California romances and a
well-known book on California sports. Marie Van Saanen-
Algi, author of Anne of Treboul, is a great-granddaughter of
Josiah Belden, of San Jos6, one of the most notable of the
pioneers.

Painters — William Keith, Charles Rollo Peters, Alex-
ander Haixison, Frank McComas, Jules Tavemier, Theodore
Wores, Albert Bierstadt, Matilda Lotz, Clara McChesney,
Julian Rix, and Frederick Yates.

Actors of both Sexes — Nance O'Neil, Mary Anderson,
Blanche Bates, Katherine Grey, David Warfield, and Holbrook
Blinn.

Lotta erected a drinking-fountain in Market Street as a
token of her devotion to the city of San Francisco.

Prime Donne — Sibyl Sanderson, Emma Nevada, Maude
Fay.

329

CALIFORNIA

Dancers — Isadora Duncan, Maude Allen.

One architect of genius we have produced, Willis Polk; one
sculptor, Douglas Tilden; one composer, Edgar Kelley; and
one stage-manager, David Belasco.

Newspaper writers that have made a reputation outside of
California are: Ambrose Bierce, Arthur McEwen, E. W.
Townsend, George Hamlin Fitch, Wallace Irwin, Will Irwin,
and Ashton Stevens, dramatic critic.

Robert Loiiis Stevenson, Mark Twain, and Henry George
are casually identified with San Francisco.

The historians and geologists have been mentioned in the
preface; but the names of Benjamin Ide Wheeler, president of
the University of California; David Starr Jordan, long presi-
dent of Stanford University; Professor Holden; Professor
Morse Stevens, so closely associated with California's intel-
lectual life, cannot be omitted even in a brief history of the
state; nor that of Luther Burbank. Chief among those that
have given liberally from their private fortunes to enrich Cali-
fornia artistically and educationally are: Mr. and Mrs. Leland
Stanford, Mark Hopkins (via Edward F. Searles), Mrs. Hearst,
W. R. Hearst (whose beautiful Greek Theater at Berkeley would
create the perfect illusion were it not for the anachronism of the
donor's name, cut deep and painted green, above the stage),
Dr. H. H. Toland, Adolf Sutro, William H. Crocker, Claus
Spreckels, Raphael Weill, Truxtim Beale, Rudolph Spreckels,
and James D. Phelan.

To all that I may have forgotten I make humble apologies.
Since California embarked upon her daedal sea she has turned
out artists (using the word generically) at such a rate that it
is simpler to write a history of the state than to keep track of
any but those that have won a national reputation, or those
that one happens to number among one's acquaintance. It is
easier to recall the benefactors.

G. A.

THE END

PLEASE DO NOT REMOVE
CARDS OR SLIPS FROM THIS POCKET

UNIVERSITY OF TORONTO LIBRARY

F Atherton, Gertrude Frinklin

861 (Horn)

^°^ California; an intiaate

history

• A

%\\\%

'SAWDL.-

Internet Archive Audio

Featured

Top

Images

Featured

Top

Software

Featured

Top

Books

Featured

Top

Video

Featured

Top

Mobile Apps

Browser Extensions

Archive-It Subscription

Save Page Now

Full text of "California; an intimate history"

See other formats