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Full text of "Men and memories of San Francisco in the "spring of '50""

979.402 
Sa519ba 
1722305 



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ALLEN COUNTY PUBLIC LIBRARY 




3 1833 01114 9967 



GENEALOG'i 

979.402 

SA519BA 




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MEN AND MEMORIES 



SAN FEANOISCO, 



"SPEING OF '50." <^ 



T. A. BARRY and B. A. PATTEN. 



"Forsan et hcec olim meminisse Juvabity — ViRGiL. 



SAN FKANCISCO: 
A. L. BANCEOFT & COMPANY, 

PCTBLISHEES, BoOKSELLEBS AND StATIONEES. 

1873. 



Entered accorcliug to Act of Congress, in the year 1873, by 

A. L. BANCEOFT & COMPANY, 
In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 



1722305 



PEEFACE 



Years ago it was no unfrequent tiling for old resi- 
dentes, who, in the course of conversation, had arrived 
at a point of doubt or difference upon the location of 
some building, or the names of its occupants, their 
personal appearance, profession, or peculiarities in 
the "Spring of '50," to come to us for information 
on the mooted point, believing that our long continued 
residence and peculiar opportunities for observation, 
together with unusually good memories, rendered 
our decisions worthy of consideration. As Time's 
incessant revolution whirls us on and on, still farther 
from those days, and looking back upon the long 
vista of years, the once familiar spots and well- 
known forms and faces fade in the distance. These 
inquiries increase day by day, and so often have we 
been correct, that many of our friends have said: 
' ' Write some of the reminiscences of those old times, 
and we will read them." Disclaiming all merit in 
these pages, save their mnemonic faithfulness, we 
offer them to the kind consideration of our friends 

and the public. 

B. & P. 

San Feaxcisco, May, 1873. 



MEN AND MEMORIES 



SAN FEASCISCO O THE SPRING OF '50. 



MEIT AND MEMORIES 

OF 

SAN FEAKCISCO IN THE SPRING OF '50. 



CHAPTEE I. 



The man who has lived in San Francisco for 
nearly a quarter of a century ; who has never 
been absent from it longer than two weeks in 
all these years ; who can recall vividly all the 
old and once familiar streets and buildings, and 
the men who lived in them, can always com- 
mand attention from those whose memory, less 
active and retentive, is ever latent and easily 
awakened with an eager and peculiar pleasure 
to listen to the reminiscences of the early days. 

Disappointment may await the reader who 
expects any literary merit in these pages; but 
we think that he who searches them for facts 
long laid away and forgotten in the dusty folios 



8 MEN AND MEMORIES 

of memory's by-gone years, will find but few 
paragraphs that will prove uninteresting. 

There is a romance attached to the early days 
of San Francisco's history, a real interest cling- 
ing to the men who lived here, and to the inci- 
dents of their lives during those strange, event- 
ful days — something not so easily explained to 
those who were not here— a kind of freemasonry, 
binding fraternally all those who lived here in 
a time when the very sense of remoteness and 
isolation from all the rest of the world brought 
men closer together; made men who knew each 
other merely by name, and who had never 
spoken together, grasp each other's hands and 
form life-long friendships, born of a sympathy 
in men so similarly circumstanced, drawn to one 
field by eager, adventurous enterprise, such a 
long, weary way from home and loved ones, 
having something in common, so different from 
any previous experience known or read of by 
men. 

Although nearly a quarter of a century has 
elapsed, the kindly sentiment still burns in 
the hearts of these men. Even the scapegrace 
and vagabond of to-day, who happened to be 
here in the early days, retains, somehow, a place 
in the hearts of his more fortunate and respect- 
able pioneer brethren, who never forget that he 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 9 

is a '49-er, or, better still, more remotely dates 
his advent. A resident of those days will linger 
and courteously endure the bore of the most 
dilapidated specimen of humanity, with a for- 
bearance bordering on the marvelous in the 
eyes of those who were not here, and to 
whom the whole thing is more mysterious 
than freemasonry. If a man who came to 
San Francisco subsequent to 1850 should 
venture a hint that time and money given 
to such objects were worse than wasted, he 
will be met with a ''Yes, yes, exactly! but 
you don't quite understand it, and it isn't to 
be expected that you should ! you were not here 
in those days, you know! You see, there's a 
kind of feeling toward the men of that time, 
however unfortunate since, which — eh, well! — 
we can't see those men in want, and what little 
we give them is of no consequence.' ' And with 
a wave of the hand, and a half apologetic, half 
deprecatory shrug of the shoulders, our friend 
too gladly dodges the truth. Still, he never 
will — not if he lives for a century to come — turn 
the cold shoulder upon one of the '^ Old-time 
hoys,' ' should Time permit the venerable loafer' s 
lingering so long. While we may smile con- 
temptuously — we of later days — still, we must 
admire this spirit, more than friendship, created 



10 MEN AND MEMORIES 

under such peculiar circumstances and enduring 
through so many years. 

There is a genuine regret, a kind of Pioneer- 
pity, in the hearts of some of the unmitigated 
' 49-ers, for those unfortunate men whom cruel 
fate denied the ineffable glory of arriving in 
San Francisco in the memorable year of 1849; 
or who were not within three marine leagues of 
California's auriferous shores previous to the 
midnight of December, 31, 1849. Time cannot 
soften the hearts of these otherwise good old men 
towards those unhappy individuals who arrived 
here subsequent to that momentous period in 
the world's history. Messrs. Winant, Bond, 
Clark, Stout, M. D,, and a very few others, are 
obdurate, and our only hope is in the liberal 
faction, headed by Messrs. Holland, Yon Schmidt, 
Donahue, et at. The man who is hardened 
enough to confess that he did not see the tra- 
ditional mule, foundered in the slough on Mont- 
gomery street, between Clay and Washington — 
the man who admits that he never saw the tide 
half way across Montgomery at the corner of 
Jackson — who has not walked on sidewalks 
made of sacks of flour and boxes of Virginia' s 
finest tobacco — that man, we say, has no reason 
to expect the slightest consideration {in a Pio- 
neer way) from those inexorable men of the ' 49 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 11 

faction. AVe never could see the sense of the 
Pioneer Association, in celebrating the anniver- 
sary of California's admission into the Union. 
Why should such a body of men sanction the 
admission of California into the Union, when 
she didn' t arrive there before midnight of the 
thirty-first of December, 1849? It is simply 
ridiculous, absurd, for them to notice the ninth 
of September, 1850; almost as inconsistent as 
electing to the joresidency of the association a 
man who had the hardihood to delay his arrival 
in San Francisco until after the midnight of 
December 31, 1849. 

The atmosphere becomes very foggy at times 
in the social room of the Pioneer' s Association ; 
and it was so most likely when Capt. Johns was 
elected to preside over men who left the east 
more suddenly, and arrived in the west on letter 
time than he did. Some grave, deliberate bodies 
are comical without intention. 

All just and fair-thinking men agree that 
everybody who was in California on the ninth 
of September, 1850, should be eligible for mem- 
bership in the association of California Pioneers. 
Every man, woman or child who were here be- 
fore the Territory became a State of the Union, 
is a pioneer. It is amusing to notice the stick- 
lers for cesta among the '49ers, just among 



12 MEN AND MEMORIES 

those who came in that year ; among the earlier 
comers, the feeling does not exist. 

The De Witts or Harrisons of ' 48 are not in 
the least jealous of those who came between 
January 1st, 1850, and September 9th, 1850. 
Col. Stevenson, James L. Wadsworth, Dr. Par- 
ker, Mr. Nuttman, are not ; J. C. Denniston 
(peace to his memory) never was, being the per- 
sonification of generosity; Messrs. Russ, father 
and sons. Alcalde Hyde, Alcalde Leavenworth, 
Judge Botts, nor any of those men of '46 and 
'47. The same may be said of the late Robert 
Parker, the late Judge Blackburn, and the late 
Harry Spiel, of Santa Cruz; of Major Snyder, 
Charley Southard, the late Major Hensley, John 
Sullivan, the Murphys and Mr. Thomas Fallon, 
and all the men of ' 44 ; or of Josiah Belden, 
Don Jose Thompson, Henry F. Teschemacher, 
and those of '41- 2-' 3; of the late Thomas 0. 
Larkin, the late Wm. D. M. Howard, and those 
of ' 39-' 8-' 7 ; and farther back to Jacob P. 
Leese, Don Juan Foster, Mr. Stokes, of Monte- 
rey, Mr. Branch, of San Luis Obispo ; and still 
farther back, to Charley Brown, of Mission Do- 
lores, who came here in '29; Captains Wilson 
and Dana, David Spencer and Captain Cooper, 
who came somewhere between the years '23 
and '29; and we do not believe that Mr. Gilroy, 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 13 

who settled in California in 1814, would have 
voted against any pioneer of 1850. 

In the following editorial, clipped from the 
San Francisco livening Bulletin, Feb. 6, 1873, we 
find our own and the general public sentiment 
well and truly expressed. It was written by 
one who has earned the right to give his opinion 
upon the subject — one who arrived in San Fran- 
cisco on the eighth of July, 1849, and worked 
for two or three months after his arrival as a 
boatman in the harbor, and subsequently served 
a full apprenticeship in the mines of our State; 
one who can handle rocker or cradle; is a good 
oarsman ; a linguist ; and a genuine connoisseur 
in art. As to his ability in journalistic matters, 
the subjoined editorial may be offered in evi- 
dence: 

"WHAT MAKES A PIONEEE " ? 

"Malvolio, musing in the garden, is incited to 
attempt his lady' s favor by these oracular words : 
' Some are born great, some achieve greatness, 
and some have greatness thrust upon them.' 
The world has worshipers enough for all these 
sorts of greatness, but as the larger number of 
people who desire its notice are not so lucky as 
to belong to either the first or last of the speci- 
fi.ed classes, they are compelled to earn distinc- 
tion by some act of their own. Various are the 
roads to fame. Some men write poems, while 



14 MEN AND MEMORIES 

others stand on their heads for it. Some 'wade 
through slaughter to a throne,' while others 
tread on hot iron and swallow flaming liquor. 
There was a genius in the California mines who 
made a national repute by biting through six 
pies at once on a wager. But this conquering 
man of jaw met his Waterloo when some wretch 
inserted a tin plate between the layers. En- 
gland, which produced Shakespeare, also pro- 
duced the phenomenon who drew and etched 
admirably with his toes. Punch tells us of a 
gentleman who thrilled society by giving his 
mind to the tie of his neckerchief. We have 
often seen an ephemeral reputation made by 
writing for the newspapers, and have even 
known a very few cases in which people were 
distinguished for quiet, unostentatious useful- 
ness; 

''It was reserved for the Golden State to make 
a peculiar merit of a man' s arrival here within 
a certain time. If he was fortunate enough to 
cross the boundary or touch the shore before 
the last minute of the last hour of the last day 
of 1849, he is a Pioneer, entitled to honor as 
such, and especially entitled to a handsome no- 
tice in the newspapers when he dies, under the 
attractive caption of 'Death of a Forty-Niner,' 
or 'Another Pioneer Gone,' or, more succinct 
and pathetically suggestive, 'Passing Away,' 
If, in addition to the felicity of reaching Cali- 
fornia just when he did, he is banded in a so- 
ciety composed of men like himself, he will en- 
joy — if a caput mortuum can enjoy anything — 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 15 

the proud satisfaction of having his virtues re- 
hearsed in a preamble and resolutions, a copy 
of which will be duly forwarded to his family, 
if he have one ; and he may even be followed 
to Lone Mountain by a procession of his late 
associates, wearing white gloves and gold or 
silver effigies of the grizzly bear, dear to every 
Pioneer, in rosettes upon their black coats. 
Thus an accident in a man's life is made a source 
of distinction above the multitude who toil and 
strive around him. And here we are reminded 
on what narrow contingencies greatness often 
depends. Had a fog delaj'^ed one hour outside 
the Heads the ship in which our Pioneer ar- 
rived — had one of the oxen which drew his 
wagon 'across the plains' given out just before 
he reached the State line, and caused him to 
camp beyond it one night more than he expect- 
ed, his arrival might have been in 1850, instead 
of 1849, and he would thus have remained one 
of the unhonored mob. We knew one poor 
fellow who missed his opportunity by being 
detained at Valparaiso, for some unconventional 
excess of high spirits, repugnant to local pre- 
judice and law, until after his ship had sailed 
for California. 

"When we reflect how few out of the million 
can achieve distinction in any way, although 
the longing for it is so nearly universal, it seems 
a peculiarly happy circumstance that the Cali- 
fornia hegira afforded so many a chance to rise 
by a chronological accident. Byron says : 

'Tis pleasant, sure to see one's name in print ; 
A book's a book, although there's nothing in't. 



16 MEN AND MEMORIES 

And SO the honor worn by our 'Pioneers of 
'Forty-nine,' although so fortuitous and unpre- 
meditated, is something to exult in and to be 
jealously guarded. Men who obtained it by 
perilous consumption of ligaminous and pachy- 
dermatous diet, by reckless expenditure of two 
Spanish reals on a stimulating beverage, by 
couching on poles and sand-beds, and by rigidly 
eschewing 'boiled shirts' until woman, like an 
angel, came to sew on the buttons, are entitled 
to a monopoly of their hard-earned glory. Yet 
there are envious people, who arrived here in 
the first minute of the first hour of the first day 
of 1850, who presume to dispute for the title ot 
pioneer with these veterans! They even insist 
that the society founded by their illustrious 
predecessors shall be opened to them as equals 
— that the period to be known as the New Ar- 
gonautic in the far future, to be sung as Virgil 
sung the arrival of J^neas in Italy, shall be ex- 
tended by a whole twelvemonth, so as to admit 
to fame the tardy multitude who followed on 
the heels of their betters. Forbid it, spirits of 
adventure and romance! Forbid it, ghosts of 
Yerba Buena! Forbid it, ye noble army of can- 
vas-backed heroes, wherever ye may be, in the 
flesh or out of it, who smoked together over the 
camp fires of 'Forty-nine, and dug deep for the 
glittering ore. 

" There is a class of pioneers who put in no 
chronological claims to distinction, who have 
come here at various times during the last hun- 
dred years, and are still coming, who are con- 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 17 

tent to work without special recognition, to do 
all the good they can without making a fuss 
about it, and to die without a newspaper notice 
or society resolution. These men are not con- 
cerned in this ungracious rivahy, and these men 
we do not address. Whetlier they came in one 
year or another, and whether anybody knows 
or cares when they came, is nothing to them. 
When we find people so indifferent to the 
noblest passion of the race, it is the best to let 
them toil on in their unnoticed way. Like the 
coral insects in the sea, they may, however, be 
building monuments, that wdll' rise and speak 
for them when they are gone where dates are 
unknown and where fame is not." 



The old resident who will stand to-day on 
the corner of Montgomery and Sacramento 
streets, or even at the corner of Leidesdorff, and 
look to the corner of Sansome, can hardly real- 
ize that Dall & Austin's store was no farther 
down Sacramento street than the northeast 
corner of Sansome. It used to seem a long way 
across the water to their store, standing on the 
little pier which was the commencement of San- 
some, at the corner of Sacramento; and, when 
one had walked the length of Howison's Pier 
(now Sacramento street) to Hoffs store, on its 
extreme end, at the corner of Battery street, he 
seemed well on the way to Contra Costa. Many 



18 MEN AND MEMORIES 

people cannot remember the appearance or po- 
sition of the buildings as they stood in '49 and 
'50, unless refreshed by verbal description, or 
some lithograph of that time. It would be very 
interesting to look over a collection of all the 
old lithographs that have been made in the 
last twenty-four years. Some of the houses of 
' 49 are standing exactly where they were origi- 
nally built, and some have been moved to new 
locations. 

The two-story wooden house on California 
street, north side, corner of the alley just above 
Kearny street, was built in 1849 by Dr. Jones, 
who may be remembered by the old residents. 
The doctor was an eccentric individual. He wore 
a long, velvet-lined voluminous cloak, with the 
air of a Spanish Grandee. It was said in those 
days, that the doctor had more gold-dust than 
any man in California. Those who knew him 
most intimately, used to tell a story of his 
spreading sheets over the floor of his sleeping 
apartment, pouring his gold-dust upon them, 
and walking upon it, pushing his feet through 
it, taking it up in his hands, and pouring it 
upon his head and shoulders, and rolling in it 
— performing Jupiter and Danse, with Dr. Jones 
in both characters. During his sprees, and the 
doctor was often under the influence, he was 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 19 

fond of indulging in great absurdities. The 
doctor sold at one sale seventy-one lots, and 
liberally treated his friends at " Our House,' ' on 
"Washington street, just above Dunbar' s Alley. 
Dr. AVallace purchased and occupied for many 
years the Dr. Jones house. 

"Our House" was kept by Peter Sherrebeck, 
on the lower portion of the fifty-vara lot on 
the southeast corner of Washington and Kearny 
streets, the same formerly occupied by the El 
Dorado, now by the Hall of Records. There was 
no bar or counter for the dispensing of liquids. 
There was a table in the middle of the room, 
upon which the wines and spirits were placed, 
as in a private house. The name of Sherrebeck 
has been famous in our law courts in litigation 
for the property on Folsoni and Second streets. 
Sherrebeck was a German, and came to San 
Francisco in 1846 or '47. 

Montgomery street was not graded in the 
spring of '50. It was like any hill-side, with a 
gradual slope. Xot that it was so very gradual 
either, for the western side was several feet 
higher than the eastern. Long Wharf, now 
Commercial street, opened into the eastern side 
of Montgomery, but was not then cut through 
the other side of it, as it now is, to Kearny. A 
large wooden building, with a very high, broad 



20 ' MEN AND MEMORIES 

roof, the eaves of which projected over the 
benches, ranged against the side wall on Mont- 
gomery street, now the northwest corner of 
Commercial street. The front of this house faced 
the south, and on these benches sat or lounged 
Mexicans and Chilenos, in their native cos- 
tumes, rolling up cigarettes, and smoking phil- 
osophically over their losses — for the building 
was used on the lower floor as a gambling sa- 
loon. A large American flag was displayed over 
the door ; strains of music — good music, too — 
floated upon the air; crowds of men of many 
nations were passing in and out. Within, many 
tables were spread with games: faro, monte, 
roulette, chuck-a-luck, etc., around which' men 
were standing as closely as possible — betting, 
winning and losing, as quietly and earnestly as 
typos setting up copy. The music of the band, 
the tinkle of the dealers' bells, calling the waiters 
for drinks and cigars, and the subdued click of 
ivory checks, and clink of coin, went on inces- 
santly, but a man's voice was rarely heard. 
The players reached out their stakes, laying 
them upon the card on which they wished to bet, 
or, if it were be3"ond their reach, handed it to 
some one to place for them, indicating by a sim- 
ple monosyllable, spoken scarcely above a whis- 
per, the card whereon to place it. The dealer 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 21 

sat, with unmoved fciiturcs, until all had staked 
their money, and, with a nod, dealt the chances. 

The scenes were just the same in the " Ton- 
tine,' ' opposite, on. the corner of Long Wharf, 
in the Bella Union, La Sociedad, El Dorado, 
The Empire, Parker House, Veranda, and all 
the gambling saloons. Those upon the Plaza 
were more elegantly furnished and decorated ; 
longer, and more gaily appointed bars, flanked 
by great mirrors, pictures, glass and silverware. 
Cosmopolitan crowds flocked to the counter 
and around the tables, and in and out of the 
many entrances; the air was heavy with the 
odor of burning slow-match, or Chinese punk, 
for cigar lights, lying smoking in little minia- 
ture junks, at convenient distances, along the 
far-stretching; bar: and incessant was the chink 
of golden ounces and Mexican dollars in tlie 
hands of the players at every table. 

It was easy to tell the habitual gamblers, by 
the way they slid so skillfully, from hand to 
hand, the rolls of coin, smoothly and swiftly, with 
unerring certainty — pulling out the cjdindrical 
piles, and gliding them again together, like lit- 
tle telescopes. Crowds of men, who never gam- 
bled a dollar in all their lives, came, led by cu- 
riosity, to pass the time and hear the music, 
which was well worth listening to. Everybody 



22 MEN AND MEMORIES 

went there — for homes, reading-rooms and good 
society were rare in San Francisco at that time. 

The building which we have mentioned as 
standing on the place now known as the north- 
west corner of Commercial and Montgomery 
streets, was in 1848, and previously, the Hud- 
son Bay Company's House. It was a large 
wooden structure, two and a half stories, with 
a high, sloping roof, facing the south. In 1852, 
some laborers, digging a sewer in Commercial 
street, came upon a long, narrow wooden box, 
which, on the removal of the earth, proved to be 
a coffin. The awed workmen brushed the loose 
earth away from the oval glass, revealing, with 
ghastly distinctness, the grayish-white face of 
the dead. Singularly enough, the brow, the 
eyelids, nostrils, lips — all the features — retained 
their form, calm and peaceful, while, to the 
gazer's eyes, a sudden fancy seemed to catch 
upon the dead man' s face — a look of sad remon- 
strance with the pressing throng's sacrilegious 
stare of vulgar curiosity, intruding even on the 
grave of the long-buried dead. 

Crowds of people came to look ; to turn away, 
wondering who this long-buried, silent sleeper, 
thus suddenly revisiting the glimpses of the 
moon, could be; how his grave happened to be 
there, exactly in the centre of that noisy, pop- 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 23 

ulcus thoroughfare, resounding with the crou- 
pier' s vociferous ^^ Rouge perd et la couleurP' the 
ceaseless clink of coin at lansquenet ; the gay 
music of instrumental bands in the gambling 
saloons; laughter, song and imprecations, and 
the never-ceasing tread of eager and excited 
men, all unconscious of the silent form beneath 
their feet. 

Among all the curious gazers, none knew 
those wonderfully preserved features, once so 
familiar to many— so dear, surely, to some. 
Who could explain this mystery? At last, 
Mr. Bond, the confidential secretary of Wm, 
D. M. Howard, came that way, and he knew 
that the ground was formerly the garden of 
the house occupied by Wm. A. Rae, agent of 
the Hudson Bay Company, who rashly ended 
his life in 1846, and was buried in the then 
peaceful garden spot, where he had so long slept 
unmolested. 



24 MEN AND MEMORIES 



CHAPTER II. 

The Custom House stood on the corner of 
California and Montgomery streets. It was 
built by Wm. H. Davis, in October, 1849. The 
stairs were on the outside, ending at each story, 
across which ran a veranda, or broad balcony. 
Collierwasthe Collector of the Port in 1849-50, 
and Jesse D. Carr was the Deputy Collector. 
This building was built of brick, four stories in 
height, and the wood-work front painted white. 

Ken dig & Wainwright occupied the next 
building adjoining north. Wells, Fargo & Co's 
offices now stand on the ground where these 
buildings stood. Wainwright afterwards took 
a store on Montgomery, between Clay street 
and what is now Merchant street; and his auc- 
tion advertisements in the Alta California of 
that day informed the people that they could 
lighter goods directly from the back doors of his 
salerooms to the steamers, quite aii inducement 
to those wishing to save drayage, which was no 
small item in the account of large purchasers. 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 25 

T. J. Poulterer's auction store was on the 
northwest corner of California and Montgomery, 
in Edward Vischer's building; the spot where 
W. H. Davies built the Custom House, in Oc- 
tober, '49, just where AYells, Fargo & Co's 
banking house now stands. Sam. Gower was 
with Mr. Poulterer then, and they paid twenty- 
five hundred dollars per month rent for their 
store, and rented the " up-stairs" to Mr. Crane, 
of the Courier newspaper, for one thousand dol- 
lars per month. Many of our old residents will 
remember Mr. Gower; he was a native of Aus- 
tria, a gentleman of the most agreeable manners 
and person — accomplished in music, languages, 
literature and mercantile affairs. Many years 
have gone since Mr. Gower left California, but 
his face would be very welcome should he re- 
turn to meet the men of ' 50. 

On the south side of California street, where 
Stevenson's building now stands, were some 
little wooden structures, where Capt. Folsom, 
Q. M. U. S. A., had his offices. Capt. Folsom 
had purchased the Leidesdorff estate, and it 
was here the Leidesdorff" House stood in 1849. 
It did not stand on the street line, but diag- 
onally, like the Casa Grande^ built by Mr. Rich- 
ardson, on Dupont street, between Clay and 
Washington, and Wm. H. Davis' house, near 



26 MEN AND MEMORIES 

the corner of Stockton and Jackson. The road 
to the Presidio was along this line, upon which 
the houses stood. 

On California street, above Montgomery, in 
1849, the tents were pitched in the middle of 
the street, anywhere the dwellers chose, and in- 
terspersed with boxes, and bales of goods, and 
piles of lumber. There was an open space, 
about where Mars' assay of&ce now stands, on 
California street, through which one could pass 
behind the Custom House and adjoining stores, 
and come out upon Montgomery street, where 
Bullock & Jones now have their place of busi- 
ness. Edward Yischer, Esq., the author and 
artist of "The Old Missions of California," lived 
in a cottage on this spot, accessible from either 
street. Mr. Meacham also lived in his house 
near Mr. Yischer' s. Subsequently, Rowe, the 
pioneer of ring amusements, had on this spot 
the Olympic Circus. 

Mr. Rowe went from California to Australia, 
where he was very successful. On his return, he 
brought $95,000 in sovereigns. He also brought 
a beautiful design, in gold — a group emblematical 
of equine sports — as a gift for Wm. D. M. Howard, 
who, with his proverbial generosity, had aided 
Mr. Rowe in times gone by. The costly token 
was exhibited in a jeweler's window on Mont- 



-OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 27 

gomery street at the time. "We are glad to record 
this evidence of gratitude, wishing ourselves 
possessed of an amount equal to that never re- 
turned by those indebted to the most generous 
of California' s pioneers. 

The old road, or path, to the Mission Dolores 
in '49 or '50 was the same as had been used for 
eighty years prior to the gold discovery — a 
winding way among the sand-hills and chapar- 
ral, keeping to the level, solid ground, and 
avoiding the deep, toilsome sand. Col. Hays' 
house was the half-way stopping-place between 
the city and the Mission. At the Mission, Bob 
Ridley and C. Y. Stuart kept the Mansion 
House, part of the old Mission building, adjoin- 
ing the church, just as it stands to-day. The 
long rail of the veranda was the hitching-post 
for the saddle-horses; a vehicle was rather a 
curiosity until the plank-road was constructed. 
In the afternoon, the horses stood thick and 
close, like a cavalry halt, at Bob Ridley' s door. 
Within, milk-punch was always plentiful, like 
the lager of later, degenerate 3"ears. Nearly all 
the residents of San Francisco in those days 
rode horseback, used the Mexican saddle and 
all the jingling accoutrements; wore the vicuna 
hat, or broad-brimmed glazed soinhrew, and 



28 MEN AND MEMORIES 

the comfortable, convenient, protecting serapa. 
The new comers were pleased with costume 
de la Pais — its novelty and its easy negligence. 
Everybody was cordial, prosperous and happy. 

We were out at the Mission one warm, pleasant 
Sunday morning, not long ago, sitting upon a 
bench in front of the old Mansion House. We 
closed our eyes to shut out the street-car; the 
blocks of modern buildings ; cottages ornee; the 
fashionable, scant, nipped-looking coats and skin- 
tight pants of the scores of men continually 
passing; the ridiculous head-gear and swollen, 
puffed-out paniers of the gentler sex. As we 
sat with closed eyes, the atmosphere was just 
the same upon our cheek, just as refreshing to 
our lungs, had precisely the same somnolent 
effect stealing over our senses. Sleep used to 
be called the California fever, before the gold 
discovery, and we fell into a reverie of the past. 
We heard the jingling spurs, we saw the gay, sil- 
ver-mounted bridles, the fanc}^ saddles, the rush- 
ing horse and rider, dashing up at full speed di- 
rectly at us, sitting upon the veranda, seemingly 
intent upon riding us down madly; but, just as 
we were springing in consternation from our 
seat, the horse was upon his haunches — there 
was a crunching of hoofs upon the gravel, a 
confused rattling of spurs, snorting, champing 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 29 

of the cruel Mexican bit — a cloud of dust over 
all — and, when we had collected our startled 
ideas sufficiently to feel assured we were not 
beneath the horse's hoofs, we saw the dis- 
mounted cahaUero taking from the pommel the 
long-coiled riata to "hitch" his steed, prepar- 
atory to imbibing one of Bob Ridley' s nourish- 
ing milk-punches. It was trying to the new- 
comer' s nerves to learn the California style of 
riding up to dismount — to sit quietly and see 
horse and rider dashing at full speed directly 
for you, as if both were bent upon dashing 
through the wall of the house, nor abating in 
the least their speed until within five feet of 
you, then stopped with a shock — sudden as if 
struck by lightning. We sat upon the old bench, 
enjoying the warm sun and the same delight- 
ful atmosphere we breathed twenty-odd years 
ago, shutting our eyes to the sights of to-day, 
and looking back upon the memories — the men 
we saw when first we knew the Mission Dolores: 
El Sefiores Valencia, Noe, Guerrero, De Haro, 
Bernal and, Charley Brown, who came there in 
1829; Messrs. Denuiston and Nuttman, of Ste- 
venson's Regiment, and Jack Powers, always 
well mounted, and dashing along to show the 
merits of his nag. Jack Powers! with black 
beard and flowing hair — his glittering, restless, 



30 MEN AND MEMORIES 

omnivagant eye — the worst we ever looked 
upon in any living creature — a fascinating ter- 
ror — sure index of the devil, time eventually 
proved him to be. 

Our reverie, so long and deep, is broken. A 
procession of Holy Fathers, in sacerdotal robes 
and church insignia ! What saint' s day is this? 
How the sight of their bowed heads, slow, sol- 
emn step and chant, with burning candles, brings 
back the olden days. We had thought this 
custom unobserved of late in our busy city 
neighborhood. In the true spirit of old-time 
respect, we rise to lift our hat and stand with 
head bowed and uncovered while they pass. It 
seems — eh? how confusing — they never used to 
shake such a harsh bell as that! My head is — 
well, sure enough, I was asleep! — blinking in 
the sunlight. I now discern a man gesticulating 
violently to me. ' Tis he, ringing the harsh, dis- 
cordant bell that swept away the Holy Fathers 
— rudely, with lightning speed ! dragging me 
back, over more than twenty years of life' s 
uneven road — away from the vesper-bells, the 
soft evening air, the low^, sweet music of her 
voice, breathing la lengua de los angeles^ to 



"All aboard, now, for the city!" Harsh and 
discordant clash these selfish days against the 
memory of those halcyon hours. Alas ! why 
could we not still dream? 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 31 

There was another road, or patli, for horse- 
men and pedestrians, by which one might reach 
the old Mission track. It was along Kearny, 
turning by Caryll's stable, up Bush street to 
the hill, where a sharp turn brought you before 
the house built by Judge Burritt — the same 
since occupied by Lucien Hermann, and until 
quite recently by Dr. A. J. Bowie. As this 
pretty cottage now stands, on the corner of 
Sutter and Stockton, flanked by regular side- 
walks, the lofty synagogue towering above it, 
and blocks of houses, as far as the eye can see 
in every direction, it does not give the passer- 
by that pleasurable start of emotion experienced 
by him who, winding his way among the desert 
of sandhills and chaparral twenty- two years ago, 
came suddenly upon the bright, new, stylish 
residence — its nicely curtained, spotless win- 
dows, perfect roof, and finished chimneys, neat 
porch, veranda, paths and door-way, lying in the 
warm sunlight, nestling among the cheerless sand- 
hills, like a sweet bit of our old home spirited 
across the continent by fairies' wand, and softly 
drojjped among the unsightly huts and fragile 
tenements in which we lived — a gcjitle admoni- 
tion that we might give a little less of heart and 
soul to money, and a little more to comfort, 
beauty and utility. He who had been turned 



32 MEN AND MEMORIES. 

on a reflective vein by this unexpected vision 
of a home in the wilderness, then traveled down 
the line of Stockton across Sutter, Post, Geary 
and O'Farrell, his horse's hoofs noiseless, plung- 
ing at every step knee-deep in unresisting sand ; 
saddle and bridle trappings jingling, a clink of 
spurs, and the deep breathing of the horse ; sad- 
dle-leather creaking with every step, but not a 
sound of hoof in the soft, sinking sand, more 
than a phantom horse — on, past O'Farrell to 
Ellis, around Mr. John Sullivan's cottage into 
St. Ann' s Yalley, skirting the gardens and hot- 
houses — the remnant of which still remains on 
Eddy, between Powell and Mason — where the 
path wound in and out among sand mounds and 
ridges, piled up like dirty snow-drifts, with here 
and there a charcoal-burner' s hut, and clumps 
of scrub-oaks, until he came to Col. Thomas 
Hayes' house, where it was customary to stop 
awhile, for there were always many there, chat- 
ting, while their horses rested. This long, 
white house stood diagonally with the Mission 
road, in a little, open space, wdiere ground was 
firmer than the deep sand outside the circle of 
small trees and shrubs surrounding it — a spot 
where one would naturally halt to rest, were 
there no hospitable roof upon it. A little fur- 
ther on, a turn to the right, brought the trav- 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 33 

eler on the old Mission road, where soon he 
crossed a little, shallow, slow, but limpid brook, 
edged by willows, running across the Harmen 
tract, and down MacClaren' s lane toward Mis- 
sion Creek. The same brook' s course, diverted, 
now runs through Woodward' s Gardens, refresh- 
ing the pelicans and pink-billed swans. Past this 
stream, the rider turned diagonally across the 
block now bounded by Mission and Center 
streets, and Jialted at the Mansion House. 

On the old Mission road, many years ago — 
twenty or more — was a little roadside public- 
house, called "The Grizzly." We do not re- 
member its precise location, but it was very 
near the turn of the road, just before you came 
(going Mission- ward) to the cottages of R. C. 
Page, C. R. Peters and E. H. Parker. "The 
Grizzly' ' stood a little way from the road, on the 
north side, and surrounded by scrub-oaks. A 
little brown bear — what is known as the cinna- 
mon bear — was chained to the trunk of one of 
these oak trees, and whenever we passed there, 
which was almost every day, for years, the bear 
was leaning forward to the full stretch of his 
chain, treading from side to side, with that pe- 
culiar rocking step and swaying movement of* 
caged wild beasts. He must have been quiet 
at some time, of course, but we never saw him 
3 



34 MEN AND MEMORIES 

when not treading his incessant step. We often 
halted there, lingering awhile, to see if he would 
not be quiet; but his monotonous and never 
ceasing movement so disquieted, and in a certain 
indescribable way, confused our nerve and 
vision, that we always gave it up. 

We never knew whether this cinnamon bruin 
was the successor to some genuine grizzly cub, 
the possession of which induced its owner to 
build and name the inn, under the impression 
that symposiac profits would accrue from visitors 
curious to see the ursine captive ; or whether, 
after building this traveler' s retreat, his patro- 
nymic project failed by sheer inability to find a 
grizzly, forcing him to compromise with the 
cinnamon. But, most certainly the name upon 
the signboard was a misnomer, if the chained 
specimen of the genus ursus cinnamominus were 
offered as an adjunct corroboration. 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 35 



1722305 



CHAPTER III. 

PiocHE & Bayerque had their store on the 
north side of Clay street, just below Kearny. Da- 
vidson' s bank was just below them. Then came 
Bennett & Kirby's store; William Hobourg was 
a partner in their house. Bagley & Sinton were 
adjoining. Cross, Hobson & Co. were opposite. 
The Adelphi Theater was about half way between 
Kearny and Montgomery streets, on the south 
side of Cla}^, and was used for theatrical per- 
formances, concerts, balls, etc. W. H. Lyon 
kept the bar of the theater. Riddle & Co's 
auction store was not built on the corner of 
Clay and Montgomery until July or August, 
1850. Etting Mickle's store was on the north 
side of Clay, between Montgomery and Leides- 
dorff. Selim and Fred. Woodworth' s store was 
just at the water' s edge, on the north side of 
Clay. Below, on the wharf, were the stores of 
J. J. Chariteau, Simmons, Hutchinson & Co., 
F. Yassault, and the office of the Sacramento 
steamers. Fa}^, Pierce & Willis were commis- 



36 MEN AND MEMORIES 

sion merchants on the corner of Clay and Mont- 
gomery. 

Jno. B. Corrigan was a commission merchant 
on Clay street wharf. Mr. Corrigan went to 
Washoe in the earliest days of silver mining, 
and died there. He was a noble-hearted, genial 
man, and his memory is kindly cherished in the 
hearts of all who knew him. 

Moorhead, Whitehead k Waddington were at 
the foot of Clay street. This was a Valparaiso 
firm, doing business in San Francisco, dealing 
in flour by the cargo. Hochkofler & Tenequel 
were near by. Mr. Hochkofler came from Yal- 
pariso with a member of the firm of Morehead, 
Whitehead & Waddington, via Panama, and ar- 
rived here on the sixth of June, 1850, on board 
the steam-propeller Columhis, Capt. Peck. 

Capt. Frank Eldredge, Chas. Peck (of Ste- 
venson' s Regiment), Mr. Beck (Beck & Elam), 
Jno. F. Osgood, James George, Capt. Treadwell, 
Capt. Chadwick, Messrs. Barry & Patten, Theo. 
Nash, Mr. Dewey, John Corson, James Howard, 
John Ling, Dr. Smiley, Sawyer & Chapin, and 
many others whose names we cannot now re- 
call, were passengers on the same steamer. 

We remember as vividly as if it were but yes- 
terday the arrival of the Columbus. In those 
days there were few wharves for the vessels to 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 37 

swing alongside of, so they dropped anchor out 
in the stream, where they were surrounded by 
boats to convey passengers and baggage ashore. 
One new coiner by the Columbus had a fine bunch 
of pine-apples, purchased at San Bias for unpeso^ 
and carefully preserved for the San Francisco 
market. He had hardly set foot on Montgomery 
street, when a man hailed him with, "D'ye want 
to sell them?" "Well, yes!" "How much?" 
The amateur importer of tropical fruits looked 
at his questioner, and, with the air of a man 
who was venturing on an absurdity which would 
never be entertained for one moment, said — 
"Well, you may have them for ten dollars!" 
"Here's your money!" said the man, clutching 
the pine-apples, and thrusting a ten dollar piece 
into the hand of the astonished individual, who, 
for a moment, could not realize that it was his 
first negotiation on the shores of his adopted 
home, and not a joke. He was not long in 
doubt, however. Two or three men had stop- 
ped on the street to look at the tempting fruit 
while the bargain was being made. One of them 
said to the purchaser, "How many are there?" 
"Six!" "Want to sell 'em?" "No!" "Will 
yer sell three of 'em?" "Yes!" ''Quanto?" 
"Fifteen dollars!" " Here' s your cZmero," said 
the man, handing over three five-dollar pieces, 



38 MEN AND MEMORIES 

and walking off like one greatly pleased with 
his purchase. The Columhus passenger was ob- 
served to walk away with that peculiar expres- 
sion of countenance noticeable in new students 
of Euclid. 

Ogden & Hayneswere commission merchants 
on Clay street wharf. They had ships from 
China. We remember the arrival of the Fanmj 
Major from China, with a cargo of teas, shawls, 
silks, fancy furniture, etc. Billy Buckler, of 
Baltimore, had goods on the vessel, and on her 
arrival, he came ashore with a couple of 
grotesque stoneware images under his arm, 
and brought them up to Barry & Patten, just 
for a joke with his old friends. They received 
them, drank the health of the donor, and placed 
them behind their counter, where they stand 
to-day, old and time-honored citizens, though 
ineligible for the Association of Pioneers. Og- 
den & Haynes were liberal, public-spirited men, 
without fuss or ostentation. Mr. Haynes has 
gone to the reward of all good men. Mr. Ogden 
is still with us; and if there be any change in 
his personal appearance as we knew him twenty- 
three years ago, our eyes fail to detect it. 

It is a pleasure to observe any man through 
nearly a quarter of a century' s vicissitudes and 
temptations, in a city where cosmopolitan allure- 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 39 

ments have gathered in force, and to note, 
through all, no loss of that refinement of taste 
and feeling ; no blunting of that aesthetic appre- 
ciation, the possession of which preserves the 
mind, even as pure air and temperance does the 
body. Mr. Ogden is a facile writer, and often 
contributes to the newspapers of San Francisco. 
Mr. John Haynes, a brother of the late Thomas 
Haynes, Mr. Ogden' s former partner, is a res- 
ident of San Francisco, having arrived here on 
the steamer Columbus^ June 6th, 1850. 

The Hon. John W. Dwindle and his brother, 
the Hon. Samuel H. Dwindle, were counsellors- 
at-law in Cross, Hobson & Go's building on 
Clay street, nearly opposite Bagley & Sinton' s 
store. S. H. Dwindle is now the Judge of the 
Fifteenth District Court, and esteemed by the 
members of the bar of California as one of the 
best lawyers and most upright Judges in the 
State. J. W. Dwindle is one of the ablest mem- 
bers of the bar, a Regent of the University of 
California, and as a conversationalist the peer 
of* Dr. A. J. Bowie, Judge Hoffman, or the late 
Hon. Mr.Dela Torre, U. S. District Attorney for 
California. 

Cross, Hobson k Co. afterwards removed 
to the large corrugated-iron warehouse on San- 
some street, between Jackson and Pacific, where 



40 MEN AND MEMORIES 

William Hooper also had an office. We never 
pass this old iron store without recalling (as we 
look at the broad loft door, just a^ove the main 
entrance on Sansome street) a tragic occurrence 
which happened there in 1851. Pedro, the 
porter of the store, was standing at the open 
doorway of the loft, speaking to some one on 
the walk below, when leaning forward to hear 
more distinctly, he fell out, struck upon his 
head, and died instantaneously. Pedro was a 
native of Manila; a pleasant, faithful servant, 
who had the regard of all who knew him. 

Woodworth & Morris were shipping and com- 
mission-merchants on Clay street wharf. Selim 
E. Woodworth (subsequently Commodore Wood- 
worth, U. S. N.) was the senior member of this 
firm. Fred. A. Woodworth, a younger brother, 
was in the same house. Selim arrived in San 
Francisco in the winter of 1846-7, and built the 
first house ever erected upon a "water-lot" in 
San Francisco. Some time after his arrival, news 
reached the city of a party of emigrants dying 
of starvation on the mountain trail to California, 
and he immediately started with a party to their 
rescue, and succeeded in saving many of them, 
although several had died, and the living, when 
found by Mr. WoodAVorth's party, were eating 
the dead bodies of their unfortunate compan- 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 41 

ions. All through his life in California, Selim 
Woodworth was foremost in acts of charity, and 
in the protection of life and property, or the 
swift punisliment of outlaws and criminals. He 
was small in stature, but had the bravery and 
spirit of a giant, never to be intimidated either 
by threats or force of arms. To his courage and 
determination San Francisco owes more than to 
any other man its release from the criminals that 
infested it in the early days. Both Selim and 
Fred. Woodworth made their abode-at their store 
in the primitive times, and in their family resi- 
dence in after years — extremely pleasant to their 
umerous friends, who remember with a sad 
pleasure the happy hours passed in the hos- 
pitable home from which the two brothers have 
gone forth forever. 



42 MEN AND MEMORIES 



CHAPTER lY. 

The Fuller House — not a hotel, but the home 
of the Fuller family — was about a hundred feet 
east of the eastern line of Webb street, consid- 
erably nearer to California street than Sacra- 
mento street. The Fuller estate was the Kearny 
street half of the block bounded by Kearny, 
California, Montgomery and Sacramento streets. 
P. B. Hewlett, a captain in Stevenson' s regiment, 
bought some property in Webb street, west 
side, and built a house there. It was a kind of 
semi-hotel and semi-boarding-house, conducted 
by a very pretty widow lady. This house was 
quiet and comfortable; the table and sleeping 
arrangements far in advance of the average in 
1850. Col. Whiting, F. H. Price, M. Jazynsky, 
Barry & Patten, and Col. Thompson boarded 
there. Capt. Argyras, the Greek gentleman 
who was the owner of the celebrated yacht 
Northern Lights also boarded there. This yacht 
was in 1847-8-9 the fancy boat of Boston. 
Argyras sailed on an expedition, more for pleas- 
ure than business ; but his plans were frustrated 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 43 

by the loss of his yacht in the Straits of Magel- 
lan. Argyras was an educated, refined and hon- 
orable gentleman. He died in San Francisco 
about ten years since. James Ward built a cot- 
tage on this block, nearer to Montgomery street. 
Mrs. Meacham afterwards kept it as a boarding- 
house. We remember her house, for the reason 
that an acquaintance obtained quarters there for 
himself, wife and two children for three hundred 
dollars per week. 

Capt. Hewlett lived on Montgomery, beyond 
Broadway, high up, toward the telegraph 
station. He had a very comfortable little 
snuggery; two stories and weather proof, as far 
as rain was concerned ; an enclosure for his 
wood-pile and well-house, and it may here be 
mentioned that a well of water was a nice thing 
to have in those days, when water was a " bit" 
per bucket. 

Don Pedro, as we used to call Capt. Hewlett, 
although his name was Palmer B. Hewlett, al- 
ways had several friends living with him. He 
made a pretense of charging them for board, 
but it was only to have the pleasure of their 
company, and relieve them of any sense of ob- 
ligation — a very transparent sham — not begin- 
ning to reimburse him for the outlay of their 
accommodation. But, hospitable Don Pedro 



44 MEN AND MEMORIES 

vowed he was a manager, and knew how to keep 
house. On the morning of the fourteenth of 
June, 1850, as the company were lingering over 
breakfast, some one ran down the steep hill- 
side past the house, crying "Fire! " All sprang 
up from the table, and ran to the edge of the 
little ravine in which the house stood. A high 
rising cloud of smoke and a little fire were seen 
somewhere near Kearny street, beyond the 
Plaza. Some new comers in the party observed 
the fire indifferently, and were turning back to 
the house, but Don Pedro, who had been here 
at all the conflagrations, said, with a meaning 
smile, " You' d better be looking after your 
baggage, if it' s in the city.' ' The person ad- 
dressed answered, "Oh, it cannot reach the 
place where our trunks are — in Riddle' s store 
on Sacramento street, below Montgomery." "If 
you don't hurry, the fire will be there before 
you are," said Don Pedro, with such evident 
earnestness that his friend started. Two or 
three of the party went with him. As they de- 
scended the hill, they kept watch of the fire' s 
progress, and, before they had passed Pacific 
street, the flames were rushing on like a train 
of powder. The party commenced running, 
nor abated their pace until they reached the 
store of Riddle & Eaton, on Sacramento street, 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 45 

two doors west of Leidesdorff. The block was 
on fire at the corner of Montgomery when they 
passed it. They rushed up stairs to secure their 
trunks, which were in the upper story; and, 
before they descended to the street, the roof of 
the building was in full blaze. They saved their 
trunks, but they dared not wait to collect some 
other articles belonging to them. This experi- 
ence, however, was sufficient to convince them 
of Don Pedro' s wisdom in regard to San Fran- 
cisco conflagrations. The structures in those 
da3^s were of the slightest and most inflammable 
materials ; the rooms lined with cloth and paper, 
— buildings which, after standing a few weeks in 
this atmosphere, became tinder — food for the 
first spark. If a fire broke out, this dry material 
burned so suddenly and furiously, that, though 
the air were dead calm, the wind soon rushed 
in, sweeping all in its path. 

The Bella Union (temple of chance) was on 
the Plaza, Washington street side, just above 
Kearny, and 'yjras, in the days of '49 and '50, 
thronged with men playing against the various 
games from about eleven o'clock in the morn- 
ing until daylight the next morning. The same 
motley crowd as frequented the Parker House, 
Empire, El Dorado, etc., were to be seen here. 
There used to be a quintette of Mexican mu- 



46 MEN AND MEMORIES 

sicians, who came here at night to perform. 
There were two harps, one large and the other 
very small, two guitars, and one flute. 

The musicians were dressed in the Mexican 
costume (which, however, was nothing very no- 
ticeable at that time, as many of their auditors 
were in the same style of dress), and were quiet, 
modest looking men, with contented, amiable 
faces. They used to walk in among the throng 
of j)eople, along to the upperend of the room, take 
their seats, and with scarcely any preamble or 
discussion, commence their instrumentation. 
They had played so much together, and were 
so similar, seemingly, in disposition — calm, con- 
fident and happy — that their ten hands moved 
as if guided by one mind ; rising and falling in 
perfect unison — the harmony so sweet, and just 
strange enough in its tones, from the novelty in 
the selection of instruments, to give it a peculiar 
fascination for ears always accustomed to the 
orthodox and time-honored vehicles of music 
used in quintette instrumentatioiv 

Their repertoire contained the popular waltzes 
and dances of the time, and many weird, cu- 
rious airs of old Spain, sad refrains and amor- 
ous Lkder dhne worte] the listener knew, intui- 
tively, though he heard the music without the 
words, that the same sounds had, with words, 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 47 

centuries ago, floated on the moonlit night in 
old Seville, beneath the iron-latticed balconies 
where lovely senoritas listened with bated 
breath, and thrilled with sympathetic recogni- 
tion. 

In the Bella Union at that time might have 
been seen a man about fifty years of age, rather 
above the medium height, with a refined, intel- 
lectual and rather sad face; forehead, high, 
broad and white; gray, neatly combed and ra- 
ther long hair ; white cravat and black suit. 
This individual presided with quiet and unruffled 
dignity at the very interesting but baffling enig- 
ma known as " Faro" — genus felis tigris. 

The courteous gravity with which he witnessed 
the fluctuations of the game and the undisturbed 
serenity of his benign features, through heavy 
loss or high success, was always a study for the 
phj^siognomist and observer of human nature. 

One afternoon, a grave looking man, and 
clerical in appearance, stopped in his stroll 
through the crowded saloon — all the games 
were very busy that afternoon — in front of the 
closely surrounded table, where sat, dealing the 
cards, he, so long our study. So much absorbed 
was he in the complication of the stakes, jailed 
up so heavily, on, and between, and at the cor- 
ners of every card on the green cloth, that he 



48 MEN AND MEMORIES 

never once raised his eyes higher than the 
hands that placed the stacks of coin, or ''chips" 
in their respective places. 

Now, the deal being out, and a fresh shuffle 
and cut finished, and the pack slid within the 
little silver box, (bigger with fate than ever was 
Pandora's), our urbane friend leaned back for a 
moment in his chair, awaiting the movements of 
the players. 

Happening to raise his eyes, he looked upon 
the clerical-looking man, whose earnest gaze 
had, from the moment of his halt at the table, 
been fixed upon the face of the all-unconscious 
dealer. A keen observer might have detected 
a slight start, and sudden but faint flush upon 
the face of the grave arbiter of chance; but it 
was scarcely discernable, and the next moment 
the face was placid and self-possessed as usual. 
When the deal was finished, the dealer rang 
a bell which stood always at his liand, and 
spoke quietly to the attendant servant, who 
quickly disappeared, and soon returned with a 
pale, impassible-faced man, of slight, delicate 
figure, and hands thin, small, blue-veined and 
white, as those of a lady. Without any com- 
munication save a direct glance into the eyes 
of the retiring dealer, he sat down, took from 
a drawer in the table a new pack of cards, di- 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 49 

vested them of their cover, then for a moment 
his facile fingers slid them in and out, without 
a single ruffle or catch ; smooth, sure, and with 
regular exactness, slapped the well-shuffled pack 
upon the table, in front of his nearest right- 
hand neighbor, who cut them, and the game 
proceeded as usual. Meantime, he who had left 
the chair walked leisurely out of the room to 
the open plaza, first giving a glance to the cleri- 
cal-looking man, and an indication of the head 
towards the door. In a moment the two were 
engaged in close and earnest conversation, which 
lasted some considerable time. The purport of 
that conference was never known ; but many of 
the "Sports" from Alabama and Mississippi 
surmised its nature, as they had known both 
gentlemen as eloquent preachers in the Meth- 
odist Church South. 
4 



50 MEN AND MEMOEIES 



CHAPTER V. 

Many of our readers will remember H n, 

a member of the Pioneer Association, He was 
an enigma to everybody during the last years of 
his life. In the early days, from '49 to '63, 
he was, like the majority of Californians, en- 
gaged in any kind of business or speculation 
offering a profit — whether real estate or com- 
mission, brokerage or what not. As those days 
for sudden and richly remunerative operations 
passed away, and business settled itself into the 
grooves and confines of ordinary times and 

places, H n also conformed to the changed 

condition of circumstances in business, by a 
corresponding formality in his attire. Always 
scrupulously neat in dress, and, even in the 
most careless, red-shirt, unkempt period of 
pioneer days, he was never to be seen without 
a certain jaunty style, becoming in its very neg- 
ligence. But, when the city assumed the ways 
of older cities, when it was blessed by the com- 
ing of wives, mothers, sisters, and little ones, 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 51 

and social relations were established, then 

H n donned the formal suit of black — the 

bhick, high-crowned hat, the dainty dress-boots, 
and faultless gloves of mode color. His clothes 
were always the perfection of fit and style, — 
would have passed at Poole's in London, or 
Wyman k Derby' s in New York ; his hair and 
beard were ever trimmed and dressed with the 
utmost care ; his figure was tall, erect and ele- 
gant; his waist slender, and his shoulders well 
proportioned. At a certain hour in the after- 
noon he appeared on Montgomery street, prom- 
enading its length for an hour or so, noticeable 
for his gait, dress, and old-beau, courtier de- 
portment. Those who did not know him sup- 
posed him to be a stranger, taking a look at 
San Francisco. Citizens to whom his form 
was familiar, and who knew him only by sight, 
smiled, perhaps a little contemptuously, as his 
well-known figure passed. No one really knew 
him with sufficient intimacy to tell of his man- 
ner of life, his means of subsistence, his dwel- 
ling place, or where or how he passed the time, 
when not seen taking his regular afternoon 
promenade. He never failed to be present at 
all stated meetings of the Pioneer Association, 
at the parades, celebrations and funerals. 
On Sunday morning he was at some one of the 



52 MEN AND MEMORIES 

churches, an attentive and devout worshiper. 
He was a man considerably past middle age, 
but remarkably youthful in appearance, man- 
ners and movement, making all due allowance 
for any artificial aid in producing or maintaining 
this impression, to which one might suspect he 
resorted. We remember once, during a chatty 
conversation in the Pioneer rooms, one of our 
party said, in reply to some remark, " That is 
the year and month when I was born — thirty- 
seven years ago!" "Ah, ha!" said H n, 

in his quiet, unobtrusive and pleasant way. 
" You are a mere boy; a mere boy, sir! Why, 
in that month, and that year, I was at Niagara 
Falls on my wedding tour! Yes sir! on my 
wedding tour with my beautiful bride." Here 
he had leaned back in his chair, raised his eyes 
to the ceiling, and brought the tips of his 
fingers and thumbs together in the most gentle 
manner, like one forgetful of all around, musing 
over the long, dim years of the past. " Yes sir! 
yes, there are many members here who were 
born after my dear wife and children died ; after 
the time when we were all living so happily to- 
gether, just as so many are to-day, and as I 
supposed we were to live on together, happily 
and comfortably to old age. What a dream it 
seems — so long ago ! Well, well ! ' Life ' s but 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 53 

a dream!' " Suddenly recalled to his surround- 
ings, he glanced uneasily about for a moment; 
arose, rubbed his gloved hands gently over the 
lappels of his neat coat; arranged his hat with 
exactness upon his carefully dressed hair; bowed 
with an air worthy of Sir Charles Grandison, 
and saying in his soft, courteous voice, "Good 
morning, gentlemen!" walked daintily awa}'. 

We believe H n was an Englishman by 

birth, and came to the United States in infancy. 
We also believe that we once heard him state 
that he graduated at West Point, but chose a 
commercial life, in which for many years he 
was very successful. Certainly, his carriage 
and address had much in it to justify the belief 
that he might have been one of the cadets of 
West Point; for, with all due respect to the 
army officers of the past ten years, there was 
and is to-day, among all the remaining officers 
of the old regime, a distinguishing and unmis- 
takable ton, a something which made the ''but- 
ton " a passport to all good society, an en- 
dorsement with all business men in pecuniary 
transactions; and we never yet knew one of 
them to abuse these privileges, or to be guilty 
of unbecoming conduct, in all the many years 
during which we have had constant and pecu- 
liar opportunities to know them. 



54 MEN AND MEMORIES 

To say that the object of our sketch had 
much in his deportment like an army officer of 
twenty years ago, is as high a compliment as we 
need pay his memory. 

The vigor and elasticity apparent in H n's 

carriage and movements was not assumed. We 
were one day in Thibault's ofl&ce on Montgomery 

street, near Clay, and H n was sitting near 

the desk, transacting some business. When it 
was concluded, he arose to go, and put his hand 
upon the hand-rail which ran down each side of 
the room, enclosing the different offices and 
desks. '' Here's the gate!" said Mr. Thibault, 
politely rising to open it. '^ Thanks ! don't 

trouble yourself," said H , vaulting over 

the rail, before Mr, Thibault could carry out his 
his intention, "Well done!" said the astonish- 
ed notary. "School-boy! eh?" H n smiled, 

saying, as he walked away, " I don't feel any- 
thing of old age as yet, though ' tis many years 
since my school-boy days," 

As the years rolled on, working their visi- 
ble change in everybody and everything, they 
seemed to have granted immunity to our old 
friend. He came and went at the regular hour 
for his daily promenade, dressed with the same 
fastidious care, in clothes above reproach — hat, 
gloves and boots, hair and beard, a marvel of 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 55 

neatness. One afternoon, some one said, "I 

haven't seen H n to-day, — didn't see him 

yesterday, either!" ''Well, I hadn't noticed," 
said another. "He's always along the street, 
punctual as clock-work. I wonder where he is? 
— sick, perhaps!" and they walked on, forgetting 
all about the matter. On the third day of his 
absence from the street, the morning papers 

contained a notice of H n's death. He had 

occupied a portion of the loft in a warehouse 
near the junction of Davis and California streets, 
where, known only to the immediate neighbors, 
he had been living and engaged in stuffing cush- 
ions for pews, coaches and carriages, making 
and renovating the coverings for hassocks and 
footstools. Here he had toiled and earned his 
daily bread, gaining by honorable industry the 
food and raiment for which his self-respect and 
a just pride would never let him beg, while life 
remained. Here he had lived alone, so many 
dreary days and years — no relative, friend, or 
companion — not even the cheering hopefulness 
of youth to encourage him w4th thoughts of 
brighter days, and the belief of prosperous times 
to come. There is something pathetically touch- 
ing in the thought of this kind, brave old man 
w^orking on so pluckily, even unto death, in the 
laudable struggle to be independent and respect- 



56 MEN AND MEMORIES 

able — to win the pittance that should enable 
him to come among his fellow-men in gentle- 
men's attire — equally presentable at any time, 
with any of them — to retain the position and 
outward semblance which had all through life 
been his; and with that praiseworthy ambition, 
fighting poverty and growing infirmity to the 
very last — a truer picture of the Argonaut of 
'49 than has often been presented, as the ex- 
perience of many men can testify. 

Those who were the first to enter the room 

where lay the remains of poor old H n, saw 

upon one side of the room that which was so 
like him, so many years familiar to them — the 
neat and shapely coat, arranged upon some con- 
trivance to keep its comely smoothness, just as 

if H n himself, without his head, were in it. 

On a table, what seemed to be his head, — a wig, 
with every lock and parting so smooth and pre- 
cise, so life-like and familiar, that it seemed as 
though one, looking at the front, must see the 

well-remembered face of H n, instead of 

the wooden block they found. Across a chair 
his shirt was carefully laid, its neat bosom cov- 
ered with a spread handkerchief; his other 
clothing carefully disposed — his gloves lying to- 
gether, his boots standing with their heels in 
soldier fashion — everything like H n ; but 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 67 

when they turned to the bed, their eyes looked 
upon something they had never seen or known, 
— a white and hollow face, with sunken lips; 
the forehead high and pale, without one vestige 
of hair ; but, strange incongruity! against the 
ghastly whiteness of its cheeks, and covering 
the fallen chin, a coal-black beard,'precisely cut 
and trimmed, as if Death had, by one icy touch, 
made still more mysterious the man whose life 
was always an enigma. 



58 MEN AND MEMORIES 



CHAPTER YI. 

In 1850, and for some time previous, Liecles- 
dorff street was only half a street, a narrow 
levee, piled and capped, as a boundary for the 
tide-waters along the beach, where now the 
western line of the street runs from Clay to 
Sacramento, at which point the beach took a 
turn — a little rincon down to the corner of Cali- 
fornia and Sansome streets, thence sweeping to 
the corner, diagonally opposite, where stood 
Dewey & Heiser' s store, built upon piles. The 
sidewalk in front of this store was reached at 
the corner, by steps, and under the store the 
tide ebbed and flowed. From the rear of this 
and all the stores between California and Pine 
streets, lighters could be loaded or discharged 
at tide-serving. 

In June, 1850, we saw the surveyors, who 
were defining the boundaries for the founda- 
tions of the Tehama House, compelled to move 
tripods, theodolites and chains, or get wet feet 
in the advancing tide. Col. Folsom built the 
Tehama, or Jones' Hotel, the rendezvous of the 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 59 

army — Gen. Clark, Col. Ben. Beall, Lieut. Derby 
("John Phoenix"), Cols. Andrews, Lcndruni, 
Jones, ILiniilton, Underhill, Capts. Hunt, l^on- 
nycastle, Gibson, Whiting, Blake, Chandler, Ilirie, 
Gen. Allen, and in short, all the army officers 
of that day. Native Californians, and old resi- 
dentes from the interior, always "put up" at 
the Tehama, because it was a wooden structure, 
spread out broad upon the ground, with spa- 
cious balconies on all sides, giving one a sense 
of secux'ity in case of Mother Earth being seized 
with a shiver. Apropos of earthquakes, we 
know people who have lived in San Francisco 
since 1829, and never yet knew a shock of suffi- 
cient severity to damage any well built house. 
The stores and warehouses which have been in- 
jured have either stood on made land, or have 
been constructed by incompetent builders. 

The "Tehama" was noted for the cleanliness 
of its sleeping rooms and bedding. The single 
rooms were not, to be sure, large enough to 
swing cats in ; but, as some wag said in answer 
to that, "Who wants to swing cats in his sleep- 
ing apartment?" It o'pened with, table d'hote in 
good style; but subsequently that feature of the 
institution was changed, and Raphael opened a 
restaurant in the house, Avith public tables, and 
private rooms for families living in the hotel. 



60 MEN AND MEMORIES 

This house became, at last, one of the familiar 
sights, even to those who came long after its 
construction, standing as it did from 1850 to 
the time of its removal to make way for the 
Bank of California. The good-looking counte- 
nance of Geo. Washington Frink, the landlord, 
and the figure of John Durkin at the office 
desk, were almost as firm fixtures as the house 
itself. If you were hunting a visitor to the 
city, or an army or navy officer, you naturally 
went to the Tehama, and if John Durkin told you 
he was out, you immediately turned your steps 
to Barry & Patten's, on Montgomery street, 
where, if you did not find him, you sat down 
for five minutes, when he was sure to come in. 
Looking among the old-time reminiscences 
upon Barry & Patten' s walls, we find a small 
lithograph — a view of California street from the 
corner of Sansome, in 1849. Turning the little 
frame, we read upon its back, in the Hon, John 
W. Dwinelle's handwriting, "Photographed and 
retouched by Nahl, in 1868, from a drawing 
made in 1849, by William Cogswell, for John 
W. Dwinelle. Presented to Messrs. Barry & Pat- 
ten, October, 1868, by John W. Dwinelle." 
The little sketch represents a boatman hauling 
his dory up the beach. Just above the water's 
edge, a man is sitting on some baggage, waiting 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 61 

the boatman's operations. Close by, another 
man is unloading a heavily laden mule — an 
every-day group along the beach in '49 and '50. 
On the right, in this little sketch, is a little 
one-story wooden building, upon the roof of 
which is the sign-board of S. H. Williams & 
Co., and over the door-way the sign "G. B. 
Post." 

A rough board fence, with gate, extends 
from the outer end of this structure down the 
sloping beach into the water. On the south- 
west corner is a larger building, with the sign 
"Starkey, Janoin & Co." The perspective of 
the street shows irregular wooden buildings 
piles of lumber, and tents, which, above Mont- 
gomery, are standing in the middle of the 
street, promiscuously, as it rises the hill to 
Kearny street. Another lithograph upon the 
wall, close by, represents the stores and offices 
on the east side of Montgomery, south of Jack- 
son; the first occupied by S. P. Dewey, real 
estate; Samuel Fleischacker, wholesale clothing; 
Pratt & Cole, attorneys and notaries, and 
Brooks, Sheppard & McCracken, attorneys; the 
next building, by H. Schroeder & Yan Der 
Meden & Co., merchants; the next by J. B. 
Bidleman, shipping and commission merchant; 
the fourth by Theodore Payne & Co., auction 



62 MEN AND MEMORIES 

and commission merchants. It was on the 
Jackson street corner of this block that pack- 
ages of tobacco were used to make a sidewalk, 
•it having been discovered one morning, that, in 
the mutability of California affairs, whole boxes 
of fine Virginia tobacco were cheaper than State 
of Maine pine boards. Theodore Payne was a 
warm-hearted, generous man, ever ready to aid 
the needy, a true friend and worthy citizen; 
and it pleases us here to say that his sons in- 
herit the virtues of their father, 

C. C. Richmond had his wholesale drug store 
just around the corner on Jackson, south side, 
below Montgomery. This store was on piles, 
and the sidewalk was raised several feet above 
the middle of the street, which was a shelving 
beach, covered with the tide "twice in twenty- 
four hours," if we may be allowed a "square" 
quotation. Sansome street was occupied with 
stores from the cliff at Broadway to the corner 
of Jackson, where it ended in the curve of the 
water line which swept up towards Washing- 
ton, a little below Montgomery street, and 
approaching still nearer to Montgomerj^ as it 
came to Clay street. 

Beck & Elam were on Jackson street, south 
side, below Montgomer}^ Mr. Beck came to San 
Francisco as purser of the propeller Columbus. 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 63 

He did not leave Panama as purser, but was 
elected to the office by the passengers, who 
found themselves — five hundred and twenty- 
four in number — at sea, aboard of a six hun- 
dred ton steamship, with no particular stem or 
stern to the discipline, whatever might be said 
of those portions of the ship's hull. Captain 
Peck was the ostensible commander — a very 
amiable man, who passed much of his time 
playing checkers, or draughts, with unconven- 
tional steerage passengers. Captain Peck was 
"as mild a mannered man" as you would wish 
to meet, but not one to be compared with Cap- 
tain Bob Waterman, for having things in "ship- 
shape and Bristol fashion." Mr. Beck was 
made to accept the office nolens volens, and he 
managed things very well. The five hundred 
and twenty-four passengers were five hundred 
and twenty-five when the steamer arrived in San 
Francisco, owing to an arrival among the lady 
passengers while at sea. 

The clipper ship Eclipse^ Captain Hamilton, 
came consigned to Beck & Elam; and we re- 
member a gentleman, at a convivial entertain- 
ment, given in honor of her arrival, attempting 
to offer a sentiment, rather late in the dessert. 
"Gentlemen ! I give you the shipper-clips — the 
clippy-sh — the — Gentlemen!! I give you the — 



64 MEN AND MEMORIES 

the slipper" — here he paused, steadied himself 
by the table-edge, bowed with great gravity, 
and said very slowly : "Gentlemen — I — give— 
you — the — ship — B — clipse, and her gallant 
cap' nhamilton." The last three words, "gal- 
lantcap' nhamilton," were too much for him, 
and he subsided. 

Bullit & Patrick were on the corner of Jack- 
son and Sansome streets; Coghill & Arrington 
were on the opposite corner; Christal, Cornan 
& Co. were on Jackson, between Sansome and 
Montgomery. John Cowell was merchandising 
on the corner of Sansome and Jackson ; and the 
Commercial Hotel was kept by J. Ford & Co., 
on Jackson, between Montgomery and Sansome. 
Louis Cohn's store was in the same block. My- 
rie, Crosett & Co. were on Jackson, below San- 
some. W. H. y. Cronise and Titus Cronise 
were auctioneers on the corner of Jackson and 
Montgomery. We would like one per cent, on 
all the money made by W. H. Y. Cronise in San 
Francisco, or upon the amount he has given 
away in charity during the past twenty-four 
years. The Dalton House was on Jackson 
street, below Montgomery, and conducted by 
C. A. Smith. Dupuy, Foulkes & Co. were on 
the corner of Jackson and Battery; their store 
standing on piles, and accessible by a narrow 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. G5 

sidewalk over the water of the bay. There 
were others on Jackson street whom we cannot 
recall, nor do we wish to compete with Kim- 
ball's Directory for 1850. 

Until along into the summer of 1850, the 
sidewalks on Montgomery street ended a few 
steps south of California street, and the deep, 
slippery, shifting sand, checked the pedestrian's 
ardor very quickly after walking a block, more 
or less — generally less. When one had walked 
to Llitgen' s Hotel, about half way between Pine 
and Bush streets, on the east side of Mont- 
gomery, he began to think that he would post- 
pone his exercise for that day. Dr. Enscoe's 
house stood on the corner of Bush and Mont- 
gomery — southeast corner. Opposite was a 
long, rambling, three-story, pitched-roof wooden 
building, called the American Hotel, kept by a 
German. On the northwest corner of Bush 
and Montgomery was a grocery kept by a Grer- 
man. Our German citizens have, from the ear- 
liest of San Francisco' s days, noted the import- 
ance of corners — the chances of a man halting 
at the corner; the probabilities of a man meet- 
ing some friend just turning the corner, and the 
great odds that they will halt and chat on the 
corner ; the great likelihood of strangers stop- 
ping in to inquire for some one living in the 
6 



66 MEN AND MEMORIES 

vicinity. Corner property, of course, is a kind 
of "corner" on pedestrians. 

On the southeast corner of Montgomery and 
Pine streets there used to stand one of those 
corrugated-iron buildings, many of which were 
imported from Europe, in pieces all numbered, 
and ready for erection. Berenhart, Jacoby & 
Co. were its occupants. On the southwest cor- 
ner of the same streets was a little, unpainted 
wooden building, one and a half stories ; a gro- 
cery, kept by a German, of course. This little 
store stood on the same corner until it was de- 
molished to make way for the Russ House. 

Small, dilapidated and insignificant as it was, 
we felt a little pang of regret when witnessing 
its demolition. The long, dry seasons of many 
summers had given it the look of half a cen- 
tury. The boisterous, tossing winds had thrown 
upon its little roof the dried seeds of vegetation, 
which the alternating rains woke into green 
life ; and on shelves across the sills of the little 
windows, just beneath the venerable-looking 
eaves, were humble little flowers in improvised 
pots, once containing McMurray's oysters and 
Kensett' s green corn. 

The present site of the Lick House was in those 
days, and in fact, up to '68 or '59, a sand waste, 
unoccupied, save by the tents of some parties 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 67 

camping there, preparatory to going up-river to 
the mines ; or, in later years, when it boasted the 
dignity of an enclosure for cattle on sale, a cir- 
cus troupe, or industrial exhibition. The oppo- 
site side of the street was mostly a sand waste ; 
the line of the street only marked by fragile 
structures, few and far between. 

Kearny street was more populous and fre- 
quented, though its narrow sidewalks were fear- 
fully and wonderfully made, — the work of many 
hands, and composed of a great variety of queer 
materials. In front of one man's property, the 
walk was made of barrel-staves, nailed upon 
stretchers; the next one adjoining had thin, 
springing boards, threatening at every step to 
let you through; then a mosaic, made of sides 
and ends- of packing-cases, some j)ortions cov- 
ered with tin or zinc — the jagged, saw-like 
edges making business for the dealers in boots 
and shoes ; now you trod upon the rusty tops 
of some old stoves, or heavy iron window-shut- 
ters, or an old ship's hatchway covering; then a 
dozen or two heads of kegs, set close together, 
imbedded in the mud of last year's rainy season ; 
and so on, in great and curious variety. 

In many places these odd patches of sidewalk 
ended with astonishing abruptness, as the un- 
wary stranger, walking that way after dark, very 



68 MEN AND MEMORIES 

suddenly discovered, as he plunged forward, 
jarring his entire frame, jerking off his hat into 
the mud or dust (as the season rendered propi- 
tious), biting his tongue, and altogether anger- 
ing and discomposing himself, if he were not so 
unfortunate as to fall at full length, soiling and 
tearing his clothing or dislocating his limbs. 
The northern end of Kearny street, between 
Washington street and the Graham House (af- 
terwards used as the City Hall), was the abode 
and resort of Mexicans, Peruvians, and Chile- 
nos; while the southern part of the street was 
occupied by Germans and French, displaying 
Gast-haus and Cafe sign-boards, wine-mer- 
chants and bier-halles, Pharmacie - Francaise 
and Deutsche-Apotheke. The old Kearny street, 
with its narrow way; its slopy, uneven, rick- 
etty, pitfall-sidewalks; its toppling, unsightly 
buildings and aggravating doorsteps, viciously 
projecting half way across the footpath; its 
ankle-deep sand of summer and knee-deep mud 
of winter, at the crossings; — that old Kearny 
street has passed away — thank Heaven, for- 
ever! What a contrast the corner of Post and 
Kearny presents. Where the dingy, old gro- 
cery once stood, with its stolid, phlegmatic 
proprietor, in soiled shirt-sleeves and unkempt 
locks, pipe in mouth, and hands in his pockets, 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 69 

obstructing his own doorway, — we now look 
upon the spacious and elegant White House — 
its grand show windows of clear plate-glass, 
displaying with artistic arrangement the cost- 
liest fabrics from the looms of India and Eu- 
rope. Laces, too exquisite for man to describe 
or appreciate, but gazed upon by the gentler 
sex with the heightened color, parted lips, and 
sparkling eyes, betokening full recognition of 
their value. Everything in dry goods, from the 
soft, thick, warm, downy blanket, delighting the 
eye of poor, old, rheumatic women, to the float- 
ing folds of vaporous fabric, wonderfully orna- 
mented for a bridal veil ; and story upon story, 
piled with linens, silks and velvets, and shawls 
of every value. We are lifted, noiselessly, in a 
luxurious car, from floor to floor, where well- 
dressed, courteous, gentlemanly clerks, and our 
" old time" friends, George Huntsman and 
Raphael Weill, anticipate our slightest wish. 
And was it here that the old, dingy grocery and 
Assembly Hall stood? Surely, the late Horace 
M. Whitmore, who first projected this improve- 
ment, was no false prophet, when he said, "I'll 
alter Kearny street so that its oldest inhabitant 
will fail to recognize it!" 

Lutgen's Hotel stands to-day in the same 
spot on Montgomery street, where it was origi- 



70 MEN AND MEMORIES 

nally built in 1849 — just opposite where the 
Russ House now stands. It is a strong wooden 
building, of two stories, and a high, sloping roof. 
The second story originally projected in a kind of 
balcony over the sidewalk, its stout timbers hav- 
ing some little pretensions to carving ; remind- 
ing one of quaint, old buildings in the cities 
and provincial towns of Europe. This building 
had a substantial, old-fashion appearance, greatly 
at variance with the pine-board shanties and 
wide-crannied structures usual at that time. 
Until quite recently this building presented its 
original front to the street. We miss the old, 
familiar object — its sturdy, honest timbers had 
stood so long, firm and unscathed by time, or 
change, or oft-repeated conflagration, — doing 
good service in these later years to set aright 
the puzzled visitor from the interior, who, once 
so familiar with the street, now seemed a 
stranger in a strange land, until the old land- 
mark gave him his bearings, and sent him on 
his way, musing on reminiscences tiempo pasado. 
Many of our well known German citizens 
boarded at Liitgen's in '49 and '50, and later 
still. Nicolas Luning and A. Yon der Meden 
were there when we first knew them. It was 
quite remote from the city's bustle then. Es- 
pecially did it seem so at night, so dark and 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 71 

still — no street lamps; no illuminated shop- 
windows — the deep sand muffling every footfall ; 
a long, lonesome way to California street — 
plodding on in the soft, unstable sand — longer 
and more dreary than can be realized to-day by 
him who walks from Meyer's ivory-turning 
shop — that's where Liltgen's stood — to Wells, 
Fargo & Go's corner. Yet, the old citizen can 
remember the sigh of satisfaction with which 
he stepped upon the narrow strip of sidewalk 
in front of Howard & Green' s iron store, south 
of California street, even if that sidewalk were 
but a narrow plank, laid for single file prome- 
nading. 



72 MEN AND MEMORIES 



CHAPTER YII. 

The fire of May 4th, 1851, originated in the 
paint store of Mr. Oliver, on Clay street. Plaza, 
above Kearny, about eight o'clock on a Satur- 
day evening, and its progress was so rapid, that 
people occupying houses a block away were 
unable to remove their goods. The roofs of 
buildings, seemingly too remote for danger, 
caught fire like powder, the flames creeping from 
street to street like a laid train, finding fresh 
combustible in the dry board walls, paper and 
cloth interiors; and the wind — sleeping at the 
fire' s commencement — now roaring like a pyro- 
maniac, tossed the blazing brands and glowing 
embers far away, igniting new fires upon distant 
roofs, till people thought incendiaries were con- 
summating preconcerted deviltry, adding new 
horror to the dire confusion. The streets were 
crowded with loaded drays ; the snorting teams, 
hurried by greedy drivers to some place of safety 
to unload, rush back and close with the highest 
bidder for another freight. Frantic men stood at 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 73 

their store doors, tossing their hands in the air, 
offering twenty ! forty! fifty dollars a load, for the 
removal of valuable goods ; but soon the streets 
became so blocked with teams and furniture 
and bales of goods, and hurrying, crowding men 
and mules, that the excited drivers, hoarse with 
shouting, in the vain effort to haul their goods, 
and win the rich harvest of fire-tariffs, were 
glad to unload and escape with teams and 
vehicles, some of them having only time to un- 
hitch their animals, leaving their loaded drays 
to burn — losers in the battle, despite two or 
three loads at fire prices. Men stayed by their 
stores, hoping against hope, until the heat was 
unendurable, then ran for their lives, and many 
there were who lost the dreadful race. Ten or 
twelve bodies, charred beyond all recognition, 
were found in the streets after the fire subsided. 
Several men remained in the store of Taaffe & 
McCahill, corner of Sacramento and Mont- 
gomery, believing it to be fire-proof. When 
the heat became too intense, they tried to es- 
cape, but the swollen iron doors prevented. 
They fled to the cellar, seeking safety in a mas- 
sive vault, where their remains were found. 
One of these unfortunate victims was Captain 
Vincent, the father of Mr. Vincent, of Vincent 
& Lewis, now of this city. 



74 MEN AND MEMORIES 

Mygatt & Bryant were the proprietors of the 
Washington Baths, corner of Washington street 
and Maiden Lane. The fire of May, ' 50, wiped 
out their establishment. They built it up again, 
painted and decorated it in good style, and were 
to open on the fourteenth of June ; but, on that 
day, another fire came, saving them the trouble. 
Calvin Nutting had his iron works on Maiden 
Lane, between the bath rooms of Mygatt & 
Bryant and Jackson street. Mr. Nutting met 
the bath-house proprietors in the lane — or on 
the ground where the lane used to be — the day 
of the fire, and asked them if they were going 
to build again. They said, not unless they 
could build fire-proof, which, they supposed, 
was impossible. Mr. Nutting assured them that 
he could build them a fire-proof house; and 
before they parted a verbal contract was made. 

The work was commenced in a few days, 
and satisfactorily finished; Mr. Nutting receiv- 
ing his money in weekly or semi-monthly pay- 
ments, as suited the convenience of Messrs. M. 
& B., until the contract was fully and faithfully 
complied with. We do not remember the cost 
of iron shutters and iron work for the fire-proof 
buildings in those times; but we know that it 
was very steep, and, when the fiery ordeal came, 
very few of the so-called fire-proof buildings 
stood the test. 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 75 

"We remember, as well as if it were but yester- 
day, being in front of Jo. Bidleman's fine, 
three-story brick, fire-proof store, on the east 
side of Montgomery street, between "Washing- 
ton and Jackson, when the fire of May 4th, 
1851, reached it. Every one said, "Oh, the fire 
will stop there! It can't get through those walls 
and shutters!" But when the dreadful heat had 
turned its all-devouring breath upon the firm, 
thick walls, and bolted, massive shutters, the 
moments of suspense for the spectator were 
but few. He saw, along the iron window-shut- 
ter' s edge, a line of thin, smoky fringe, like an 
angola edging for a lady's robe. For a moment 
it slowly curled about the window-casing; then, 
with a sudden puff, the delicately waving bor- 
der quickly changed to a thick frame of wool- 
like smoke. The doubled sheets of bolted iron 
trembled and filled out like window-curtains 
shaking in a breeze, then burst their fastenings, 
belching long-tongued flames, that soon con- 
sumed the costly structure. We ran away from 
the fearful heat to the corner of Jackson street, 
and stopped to look upon the walls, melting 
like snow drifts, piled upon the edge of a long 
sleeping crater, suddenly aroused to angry vio- 
lence. Our faith in '''■fire-proof was shaken. 
Turning away, we saw the deep hollow on the 



76 MEN AND MEMORIES 

northwest corner of Jackson and Montgomery 
— a weedy basin in dry weather, a murky pool 
in winter — filled with goods of all descriptions, 
rescued from the flames. We looked around, 
thinking how strange that all those goods should 
have been hurried there to save them from fire, 
and left wholly unprotected, no one watching 
them ; the owners returned for more ; gone for 
some refreshment, wearied to sleep, or what 
not? No one was there; all seemed deserted; 
and yet, half a block away, the shouts of 
frenzied men and bellowing roar of flames were 
unabated. Lying upon some boxes in the pro- 
miscuous pile, we saw the silver-plated frame 
and plate-glass of a jeweler' s show case, with its 
velvet lining, and diamonds in their various 
styles of setting, — rings, brooches, pins, ear 
drops and bracelets, displayed in their caskets, 
as when spread for sale. 

We thought the people mad — leaving those 
jewels there — and proposed taking them from 
their caskets, wrapping them in our handker- 
chiefs, and advertising them, after the fire. One 
thought we'd better leave them alone; another 
said: "Don't open the case! some one might be 
concealed among these piles of goods, watching 
them; and, taking us for thieves, shoot us!" 
We fell back at this, arguing the question. 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 77 

One said that he was sure he knew the goods; 
they were Hayes k Lyndall' s, in Clay street ; 
and, knowing them to be good fellows, it was 
wrong in us to leave their goods to be stolen ; 
to which another answered: "It isn't reason- 
able to suppose they are left unguarded." 
While thus conversing, we had slowly moved 
from the immediate neighborhood of the 
treasure, half-turned towards, and looking at it, 
when a gang of drunken, shouting vagabonds — 
just such as hung about the dens on the hill- 
side at the heads of Montgomery and Kearny 
streets — came along Montgomery, from the 
burning buildings, and, sauntering into the 
hollow, saw the show-case and sprang upon it, 
tearing it open, snatching the contents, pushing 
and fighting for their booty, and yelling in 
drunken, thieving triumph. 

The day after the fire of May 4th, 1851, two 
young men who had roomed together, and had 
lost by the conflagration all, save the clothes in 
which they stood, and a few dollars in their 
pockets, were hunting for a place in which to 
sleep. It was about noon, and they were very 
much fatigued and weary of going from one 
public house to another, finding them all full, 
crowded with men who had been sleeping in 
their stores and offices, as was customary in 



78 MEN AND MEMORIES 

those days. "Wandering on, they came to the 
St. Francis Hotel, on the corner of Dupont 
and Clay, and ascending the outside stair, 
walked along the balconies that reached around 
each story of the building. Finding one door 
ajar, they pushed it open carefully and looked 
in. The room seemed deserted and unfurnish- 
ed, save a small stretcher for a single cot — 
just the wooden frame and canvas stretcher — 
no bedding. Stepping into the room, supposing 
• it to be unoccupied, they were surprised to 
see a man standing just behind the door. He 
was a tall, powerfully built man, and stood with 
his head drooping upon his chest; his hands, 
or rather his wrists, crossed, as if he wished 
to keep his hands from touching anything. 
As the two intruders began to apologise for 
their unceremonious entrance, the man raised 
his head and waved his hands, with a gesture 
deprecating any apology, saying, in strangely 
muffled, indistinct speech, '' Excuse me, but I 
do not know where I am, or how I came 
here." Just then — becoming accustomed to 
the dim light of the room, which so obscured 
everything on their entrance out of the bright 
sunlight — the friends saw that the man was 
dreadfully burned, his lips so swollen and dis- 
torted as almost to preclude intelligible utter- 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 79 

ance ; his eyes closed, and the lids entirely 
indistinguishable ; his quivering hands, which 
he held away from himself lest contact should 
increase their torture, so shockingly burned 
that the spectators sickened at sight of them. 
The beard was gone, and all the hair below 
the line of his hat-brim was completely gone. 
His head was uncovered; his scorched and bat- 
tered hat lying in the middle of the floor, and 
all around and on the crown of his head were 
thick, light-red curls. There was something in 
the figure and action of the man — something 
even in his voice, muffled and disguised as it 
was, through his burned, shapeless lips — which 
seemed strangely familiar to the two men, as 
they listened intently, with great difficulty 
comprehending the statement of the sufferer. 
As he was telling them how he remained too 
long in his office, getting valuable papers to- 
gether, in case the fire should reach the build- 
ing and compel him to remove them to a place 
of safety ; how he was unable to get out when 
the building took fire ; and the iron doors, closed 
for safety, were so swollen by heat, that he could 
not effect his escape until aided by some people 
outside, attracted by his cries — he suddenly 
paused, and asked, "Don't you know me? I 
am Austin, your counselor! ' ' It was Elbridge 



80 MEN AND MEMORIES 

Gerry Austin, the friend and legal adviser of 
the two men whom accident had led to the res- 
cue. With increased interest and sympathy 
they hurried out, obtained a vehicle, tenderly 
placing him therein, and conveyed him to the 
house of Mr. C. W. Jones (of George N. Shaw 
& Co.), just south of Pine street, near Battery, 
where he was kindly nursed to recovery by the 
wife of his old friend and hospitable host. Min- 
istering to the needs of one so much more un- 
fortunate than themselves, quite banished all 
thoughts of their own troubles^ — newly impress- 
ing the dos amigos with a just appreciation of the 
value of health and unimpaired faculties; and 
walking back across the smoking ruins to that 
portion of the city undevastated, they found 
quarters with Bowman k Thacher, who, just 
burned out at the corner of Clay and Mont- 
gomery, had leased storeroom on board* the 
storeship Arkansas^ lying on the north side of 
Pacific wharf, between Sansome and Battery. 
Satisfied with the good work chance had placed 
in their hands, and weary with forty-eight hours 
of action, the two friends fully enjoyed their 
sleep in the comfortable old state-room pro- 
vided for them. 

Another incident of the same conflagration 
we recall. Two young fellows who came to- 



OF EARLY SAN FRANXISCO. 81 

gether to San Francisco, and were room-mates, 
losing all, save one little trunk-full of toilet 
inclispensables, retreated before the devastating 
flames until they found themselves on the liill- 
side, where Montgomery street led to Telegraph 
Hill, and here they sat down to watch the flames. 
Jaded out, and perfectly aware of the useless- 
ness of fighting the devouring element, they 
concluded to climb the hill and seek some nook 
where they might sleep undisturbed. They soon 
reached a little valley or level spot, just beyond 
the first hill, about half-way to the summit, and 
saw a little cottage with sheltering veranda — 
extremely inviting to houseless vagrants. There 
was no light or evidence of life within. All 
seemed supernaturally quiet ; the first faint gray 
of dawn was in the eastern sky; the elevation 
of the land toward the city hid the dense clouds 
of smoke, and the low, lurid flames, well nigh 
exhausted by their carnival. So strange seemed 
the stillness after the nerve-straining babel of ex- 
citement during the past seven or eight hours, 
that, actuated by a simultaneous impulse, they 
hurried to the little eminence and looked down 
upon the smoking ruins. The fire was low and 
darkly red, like a great bed of lava, and the 
black smoke rolled over the bay, as silent as a 
picture. Not an audible sound came to their 
6 



82 MEN AND MEMORIES 

ears; the shouting of men had ceased; the fire's 
exulting roar was hushed; both man and the 
scourging element seemed exhausted. Turning 
back, thoughtful and silent from the strange 
sight, they placed their trunk upon the veranda 
and laid down to rest. Just as they were sink- 
ing into unconsciousness, a woman's voice 
aroused them, inquiring why they were there. 
Hastily rising, they explained. The woman 
was much surprised, saying that just after her- 
self and husband had retired, there came a mes- 
senger from Dewitt k Harrison' s store, on San- 
some, near Broadway, where her husband was 
the porter, requesting him to come down, as 
there was a big fire under way which might 
reach their building. The high wind, awakened 
by the fire, had blown the noise away from the 
remote and quiet locality, and she had gone to 
sleep all unconscious of the great calamity. 
With genuine hospitality and womanly sym- 
pathy, she invited them in, apologising for their 
scanty accommodations, and regretting that she 
had no bed to offer them, but refusing, despite 
all their entreaties, to allow them to sleep in 
the cold morning air, until she had prepared 
them some breakfast. By the time that day- 
light came, a hot breakfast with delicious coffee 
was set before them, filling them with refresh- 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 83 

ing comfort, and banishing all thoughts of sleep 
or weariness. With grateful hearts they ex- 
pressed their many thanks, and departed. 
Often since has their gratitude been expressed, 
and the incident never will be forgotten. 



84 MEN AND MEMORIES 



CHAPTER YIII. 

The Baltimore Boys always took a prominent 
part in. the affairs of San Francisco, and on the 
right side of all momentous local issues. 

Peter Stroebell was one of the good men of 
our early days — a man with a woman' s heart 
and lion' s frame, noble in stature and in nature, 
full of generous impulses and great integrity — 
as incapable of a mean action as of wearing the 
garments of a little man. 

Mr. Stroebell went from San Francisco to 
Melbourne, Australia, on board the steamer 
Monumental City^ of which he was agent and a 
large owner. The steamer was lost there, and 
Mr. Stroebell perished with her. The news of 
his death made sad the heart of every one who 
had known him. 

George Hossefross was another Baltimorean ; 
as true as steel, as open and honest as the sun, 
seeking with full hands the needy, and happiest 
when making others happy. He was one of the 
founders of the Monumental Engine Company, 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 85 

and was chief engineer of the San Francisco 
Fire Department. 

James Hassan was a Baltimorean and a wor- 
thy confrere of his fellow citizens in California. 

Hillard & Rider were Baltimoreans. John 
Rider died (we believe) in Nicaragua. B. F. 
Hillard is with the San Francisco Stock Ex- 
change. 

Ross Fish was, for many years, in San Fran- 
cisco ; but for the past ten years has been in the 
Treasury Department in Washington. 

Wm. H. Hoburg was in business on Clay 
street in 1849-50 with Bennett & Kirby, near 
Pioche, Bayerque & Co.'s store. Subsequently 
he was State Ganger. He is the same to-day as 
he was twenty-four years ago. Impulsive as a 
boy; utterly unable to be a hypocrite; every- 
thing for truth, but nothing for policy. Wet 
feet on Sherman's Island are, with him, far 
l^referable to the dry shoes of some San Fran- 
cisco Honorables. 

Charley Warner possessed all the noble traits 
of his companions. His life was a bitter dis- 
appointment. Brought up to a mercantile life 
in a prominent South American house, with the 
promise of a partnership in the firm, after a 
term of years. The promise was a falsehood; 
and Warner, after serving faithfully for years, 



86 MEN AND MEMORIES 

was displaced to give his well-earned position 
to a nephew of the man who had deceived him. 
From this wrong he never rallied ; and although 
now beyond all earthly disappointment, still, 
his living friends to-day are touched with sad- 
ness at the recollection of his sorrows. 

Dr. A. J. Bowie is from Baltimore. His skill 
as a surgeon is too well known for any mention 
in these pages. We could not describe his con- 
versational powers, however great our desire. 
Madame de Stael, Talleyrand, Agassiz, Daniel 
Webster, Theodore Parker or Starr King, could 
have found enjoyment in listening to Dr. Bowie. 

Julius C. McCeny is from Baltimore and a 
pioneer. He came to California when a lad, 
made money sufficient to study and graduate 
with honors at Harvard College, and returned 
to practice law in the Courts of California. 

Winter & Latimer were Baltimoreans. A. B. 
McCreery was one of their employees in '49 
and '50. 

Dungan, Moore & Pendergast, on California 
street, were Baltimoreans. 

James H. Wethered was from Baltimore ; he 
was very successful, and had every prospect of 
wealth ; but by some rascally maneuvering he 
was robbed of a fortune. We have heard him 
state the character and standing of the distin- 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 87 

guished gentleman (with an '■'■ ITonr prefixed to 
his name) who robbed him, and use every taunt 
to call him to a personal account; but the hon- 
orable gentleman always withdrew with celerity 
at Mr. Wethered's approach. 

Wm. Divier, the former Superintendent of 
Streets, Beverly C. Saunders, Jo. Capprise, Tom. 
Hamilton, Robert Bennett, Tom. Lamb and John 
L. Durkee were from Baltimore; but John 
Whitehead was not, as many supposed, a native 
of the "Monumental City," but a North End 
Boston Boy. 

There used to be in '49-50 and on into '51, 
a man, who stood every morning on the corner 
of Long Wharf (now Commercial street) and 
Montgomery street, selling the '''' Alta California T 
He always stood on the southeast corner, just 
at the curbstone, his broad-brimmed felt hat 
down over his eyes, hiding them and the ex- 
pression of his face. He held the papers over 
his left arm, his left hand extended beyond 
the piled-up papers, just from the press. He 
stood like an automaton, never moving from his 
position, never raising his head, but exclaiming, 
at regular intervals, ,"Mornin' Pa-p-u-z! 
Mornin' Pa-p-u-z!" the accent on the last 
syllable of the second word. The fingers of 



8S MEN AND MEMORIES 

the extended hand closed on each two-bit 
piece, as it was dropped into it, when the right 
hand came swinging slowly towards the coin, 
dropped upon it like some slow, awkwardly- 
moving machinery, grappled it, and slowly 
swung it to the capacious pocket in the right 
side of his heavy pilot-cloth monkey-jacket, the 
action and movement reminding one of a der- 
rick-crane lightering coals. We never heard 
any one ask the price of a paper; we never saw 
any hesitation on the part of seller or pur- 
chaser; everybody seemed to understand that 
it was ^^dos reales^ We have stood long and 
often, to see if the old fellow would utter some- 
thing more than the stereotyped " M-o-r-n-i-n' 
P-a-p-u-z ! ' ' but he never did ; nor did he ever 
sell any other paper than the "J.^^a," notwith- 
standing his cry of M-o-r-n-i-n' P-a-p-u-z ! ' ' 
The plural, doubtless referred to the number 
of " Alias,'' and he did sell a goodly number 
for many, many mornings, and realized a nice 
little sum in disseminating the news of the day 
and the well- written editorials of Frank Soule, 
Durivage and the late lamented Gilbert and 
McDermott. 

The Alta California office was on Washington 
street, just at the upper northwest corner of 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 89 

the Plaza, in 1850. Gilbert, Durivage and Kem- 
Ijle were editors. Frank Soule and McDermott 
were subsequently on the editorial staff. Paul 
Morrell, of the Sacramento Union^ was foreman 
of the Alta printing-office. One evening, we 
were walking up Washington street, when we 
met Mr. Morrell. "Turn about!" said he, 
"Come and see me win a diamond-cluster pin 
which is to be raffled in the Bella Union." 
"How many tickets have you," we inquired. 
"One! that is all that's required," he said. 
"Yes, if you happen to hold that particular 
one," we replied. "Here it is," said Don 
Pablo, holding up a ticket. AYe went in, and 
he did win it, and wears the same pin to-day. 

Kemble was on the editorial staff of the Cali- 
fornia Star, afterwards continued under the 
name of the Alta California. He was a very 
elegant-looking young fellow in those days; 
and, when we in our unsophisticated youth first 
saw him cavaliering along Montgomery street, on 
his showy, black, high-stepping charger, wdth 
full, flowing mane and tail, saddle and bridle 
profusely decked with glittering, jingling silver 
ornaments, we thought surely this is some hi- 
dalgo. He sat so proudly in the saddle; his 
broad-brimmed sombrero worn with such a Cas- 
tilian air; his rich waving hair, black, arching 



90 MEN AND MEMORIES 

eyebrows, and long, fringing lashes; his blue 
coat and gold buttons, and long, bright, buck- 
skin gauntlets, were a picture to look upon. 
We thought our informant was jesting when he 
said 'twas only an editor; he looked so like an 
Andalusian grandee. In after years, we became 
well acquainted with Kemble, and found him a 
real good fellow — fully equal to any " grandee" 
we ever knew. 

In the Polynesian of June 27, 1846, we read: 
"The arrival of the Brooklyn^ 136 days from 
New York, with 178 emigrants for California, 
has created no little interest in our town.' ' In 
the same article we read: "Mr. Brannan has a 
press with him, and intends establishing a 
paper, to be called the California Stary 

In the Mercantile Library rooms on Bush 
street, are bound volumes of the California 8tar, 
published by S. Brannan, Kemble editor. These 
volumes were presented to the library by Messrs. 
Barry & Patten. 

"Tip" was no insignificant attache of the 
AlfaofO-ce. Many men remember "Tip," a big 
terrier, black and brown — more brown than 
black. Every man and boy who knew the Alta 
knew "Tip." His office was no sinecure. Rats 
were in San Francisco by the million in those 
days, and if we could have a dollar, or even a 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 91 

dime, for every rat who received liis quietus from 
" Tip," we should have far more capital than 
some of the bankers commenced with in early 
times. The rats of San Francisco and Sacra- 
mento in 1850, and up to the middle of the 
year 1853, were something wonderful. Should 
those pests swarm the stores, houses and streets 
to-day, as they did then, people would be fright- 
ened, and not without cause. The little, four- 
footed, rodent devils worked damage only second 
to the fires of that time. Warehousemen were 
put to their wits to circumvent them. Zinc 
and tins were nailed about the floors and lower 
boarding, like sheathing on a ship, and signs 
assuring ''rat-proof storage" were plentiful and 
necessary. At dusk, the rats ventured boldly 
out upon the streets, racing and scampering in- 
cessantly ; darting in every direction — squeaking 
and fighting with that vicious spitefulness nat- 
ural to them. Pedestrians and new comers felt, 
as they walked among the countless swarm, a 
constant apprehension of treading upon the 
wicked little vermin ; nor was the new comer 
alone so annoyed. We never could cure our- 
selves at times, of suddenly halting and lifting 
our hands quickly upward, when some big fellow 
sprang within an inch of us, or struck us full and 
heavy, as was not uncommon. Sometimes, a 



92 MEN AND MEMORIES 

very venomous rat, when struck at by the 
promenader, would show fight and be killed, 
rather than retreat. A terrier dog, or a good 
cat, commanded a big price in those times. 
The captain, cabin-boy, cook, or sailor who 
chanced to bring with him one of those much- 
coveted creatures, found solid consolation in 
separating from his faithful companion of the 
voyage. 

Every dog or cat of them, however, became 
poisoned and off duty, on the sick-list very soon, 
the result of their incessant labors. As time went 
on, and brought more dogs and cats, the rat com- 
mune was thinned out, defeated and reduced to 
the ordinary number; so that the citizen of to- 
day cannot, like the early resident, distinguish 
the rat of Valparaiso, the rat of Canton or Sing- 
apore, the long, white, pink- eyed rice -rat of 
Batavia, the New York, Boston or Liverpool 
wharf-rat, nor yet the kangaroo rat from Aus- 
tralia — so well known and readily recognized in 
the days when they held high carnival in our 
streets, warehouses and dwellings. 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 93 



CHAPTER IX. 

Those who had eaten at the French restau- 
rants, the LaFayette, the Jackson and the 
Franklin, until they were tired of the same 
flavors and odors, however changed and dis- 
guised by the artistic chef; or if not satiated by 
the complications and mysteries of the cuisine^ 
if it chanced that finances were rather low, and 
ways and means were to be considered, and four 
bits instead of a dollar and a half must sufiice 
for breakfast — one could get it for' that sum, 
and very well cooked too, at the ISTew York 
Bakery, on the same spot where it now stands, 
on the east side of Kearny street, between Clay 
and Commercial — though there was no Com- 
mercial street west of Montgomery street then. 
To be sure, the breakfast was not elaborate — a 
cup of coffee, two hot biscuit and a plate of 
baked beans — but they were very good; and 
though we went there first from necessity, we 
often went afterwards when we had plenty of 
the collateral^ because the meals were so very 



94 MEN AND MEMORIES 

good, SO relishing, and such an agreeable diver- 
sion from richer, costlier and less digestible 
food. The Irving House, when it was opened, 
on the spot where Montgomery Block now 
stands, was a pleasant change to crowds of men 
without homes and family comforts ; men who, 
as most all did in those days, slept in their 
offices or stores, taking their meals anywhere 
and everywhere, at French, Italian, Spanish, 
German or Chinese restaurants. So, when the 
Irving House was opened by Du Martrey & 
Mason, in the New York style, neat, clean, with 
quiet attendants and good cooking, with the 
welcome and familiar buckwheats and golden 
syrup, the San Franciscan began to feel as he 
skimmed the ^^ Alta" or ^^ Herald," while waiting 
for breakfast, as if the city of his adoption were 
becoming quite Americanized. 

On the west side of Kearny, between Clay and 
Sacramento, was a little restaurant kept by 
Madame Rosalie, a vivacious little French 
woman, with the most piquant manner and con- 
versation, and bewitching toilette. Her chef was 
an artist, and her little salle a manger was cosy and 
comfortable, the table linen and the equipage 
nice and clean, and her patronage the better class 
of citizens. We remember going in one morn- 
ing to breakfast, and as we stopped a moment at 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 95 

the counter, to wish the fair hostess " Good morn- 
ing!" a gentleman was asking if he could have 
some fresh eggs for breakfast. " How would Mon- 
sieur like zem?" inquired the polite little 
woman. "Boiled, if you please!" said he. 
"Oh!" said the Madame, her face assuming, 
quick as thought, the expression of one who 
had lost everything worth retaining |on earth, 
her shoulders raising in the most expressive of 
shrugs, her little, speaking hands outstretched 
with upturned palms, and her whole manner the 
j)erfection of pantomimic apology, "Oh, par- 
don. Monsieur! very good for ze omelette^ but 
not for ze douiUie!'^ 

Raphael's restaurant was on Pike street, be- 
tween Clay and Washington ; a dingy, little yel- 
low casa, externally, and dingier, smaller still, 
within. The bill of fare could be readily ascer- 
tained by a sensitive nasal organ, on entering 
the salle a manger which was separated from the 
kitchen by a dingy, tattered curtain, of un- 
known material, which offered no impediment 
to sound or odor from the chefs domain, nor 
softened in the least the high key of Raphael's 
loud vociferation, profuse in the profane mor- 
ceaux of many nations, which he glibly hurled 
at French, Italian, Spanish, Portugese and En- 
glish cooks and waiters. His vocalization had 



96 MEN AND MEMORIES 

a running accompaniment of clashing fire-irons, 
rattling crockery and cooking utensils. 

Breakfast in the main saloon, a room about 
fifteen by twenty feet, was one dollar without 
the extras, such as eggs, claret, etc. In the ex- 
clusive apartment, a little, hot, smoky coop, 
closer to the kitchen fire, and raised by a few 
steps from the common room, from which it 
was separated by a curtain, breakfast was half a 
dollar extra. Many of Raphael's patrons had 
known him in the Parker House, in Boston, 
and knowing his accomplishments as a clief^ wel- 
comed him to San Francisco, and are still loyal 
to him, wherever he wears the white cap. 

After the guests became too numerous for the 
little place on la rue de Pike, Raphael came 
down to Sacramento street, on the north side, 
just above Montgomery, No. 51, where the busi- 
ness flourished, and his voice raised a semitone, 
and his loquacity increased. Of course he 
didn't stay here long. No one could remain in 
undisturbed prosperity in those days ; it would 
have been too much good fortune. The fire 
soon swept everything away. Subsequently, 
this distinguished chef took the restaurant of 
the Tehama House, and to tell of all the places 
where he has since tickled the gastronome, would 
fill by far too many pages of this volume. 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 97 

Jim D , who came to San Francisco in 

1847,— a happy, reckless, generous boy, ever 
ready for a spree, or real hard work to aid a 
friend; liberal to a fault; the best man /or you, 
and the worst you could have against you, — was 
up from his ranch of many leagues, once upon a 
time, on a little pasear in San Francisco, when 
late one night he found himself sitting on a 
doorstep on the Washington street side of the 
Plaza. We have said he found himself sitting 

there — we should have said police-officer E 

found him sitting there, for Jim was lost — in 

meditation. Officer E came along, stopped 

a moment, and touched Jim upon the shoulder, 
but receiving no response, shook him gently. 
''What is it?" inquired Jim, without troubling 
himself to raise his head. "You must move 

on," said E . " Oh, no, you're mistaken!" 

said Jim. "I'm very comfortable here; you 
had better move on yourself!" "Come, no 

nonsense," said E , "you musn't sit here." 

"Well, I'll bet you dnco pesos that I do sit here 
just as long as I want to!" "Ah, indeed!" 
said the officer, " I see that I shall have to take 
you in." At this stage of the proceedings, Jim, 
for the first time condescended to raise his 
head. "Hallo!" he exclaimed in a surprised 

tone, "Isn't this E ?" " Yes, sir," answered 

7 



98 MEN AND MEMORIES 

the guardian of the night "I'm Officer E ." 

"Well, now, listen to me!" said Jim, putting 
his head a little forward and inclining it to one 
side, closing his twinkling black eyes, and purs- 
ing up his mouth in his own peculiar manner — 
"Listen! If you don't move on yourself and 
let me alone, I' 11 hiss your wife the first time I 
see her on the stage!" We must explain that 
Mrs. E ,was a member of the dramatic com- 
pany then performing in the city — a charming 
actress, and most exemplary woman ; and Officer 

E being a good husband and sensible man, 

moved on. It is unnecessary to say to anybody 

who knew Jim D that he never would have 

carried out so ungallant a threat; but his sense 
of humor and ready invention at ruse de guerre, 
would not allow him to lose the opportunity. 
Apropos of humor and invention, we recall a 

very good thing of Ned B , whose erratic 

doings and sayings were as familiar as amusing 
to all the old citizens. If Ned made ten dol- 
lars by writing ten lines of notarial manuscript, 
or ten thousand by some speculation, 'twas all 
the same. His object was to get rid of the 
money at once, in the quickest possible way — 
a dinner at the La Fayette or the Jackson House, 
a conflict with the striped king of the jungle, 
or a costly gift to some fair acquaintance. We 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 99 

remember that on the occasion of some wedding, 
reception, ball, or festivity of some kind, a 3^oung 
lady had said in Ned's hearing that she intended 
to wear a japonica in her hair, if her brother 
succeeded in finding one. Now, japonicas, or 
any other cultivated flowers, were rather costly 
in those days; a little bunch of violets, or a 
tiny bouquet, such as might be purchased to- 
day for two bits, was worth from two dollars 
and a half to ten dollars, as circumstances com- 
manded. But this was nothing to be consid- 
ered by Ned B , who at once proceeded to 

the nearest florist' s, where one solitary japonica 
was the cynosure of eyes. Several flower-hunt- 
ers were eager to negotiate, but were appalled 
at the terms. "Have you any japonicas?" said 
Ned, bustling in. "There's the last one, sir," 
said the florist, with all the cool sang froid of 
one, master of the situation. "How much is 
it?" inquired Ned. "Fifty dollars!" said the 
modest disciple of Flora. "I'll take it," said 

B , tossing down an auriferous octagonal, 

and calmly walking away to win one smile. 

Some years later, when japonicas were more 
plentiful, but when, alas! "the root of all evil" 
had become inconveniently scarce, and expe- 
dients were absolutely necessary, Ned had a 
notarial commission, and his ofiice was on Mont- 



100 MEN AND MEMORIES 

gomery, near Merchant street. One morning a 
notice appeared in the daily papers, requesting 

the creditors of Saml. W and Frank T , 

formerly residents of San Francisco, but at that 
time living in the city of New York, to present 
their claims against the above named gentlemen 
on or before the date mentioned in the adver- 
tisement. Early the next morning, the office 

of Mr. B seemed to be doing an unusual 

business. Many people were awaiting the ad- 
vent of the notary who was collecting the claims 
against Messrs. S. W. and F. T. These kind 
people, in every trade and profession, old and 
young of both sexes, who had believed in the 
probity of S. W. and F. T., presented their re- 
spective accounts, which were carefully entered 
upon a formidable looking book, and each claim- 
ant requested to swear to his claim and pay the 
notarial fee of one dollar, which they cheerfully 
did, leaving the office and their claims, but tak- 
ing with them new hopes. It was said at that 
time that six hundred and twenty-nine claims 
were left in the hands of the enterprising no- 
tary, for which privilege each individual paid 
the regular fee of one dollar. 

It was also stated, but with what foundation 
we cannot say, that the claims averaged $200 
each, making an aggregate of $125,800. From 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 101 

our personal knowledge of these ''former resid- 
ents," we conjecture that many confiding ac- 
quaintances either foiled to read the notary's 
advertisement, or declined to present their 

"little bills." However, Ned B sported 

new and jaunty attire, and a rose-bud in his 
button-hole immediately subsequent to the fil- 
ing of the claims at one dollar each. 



102 MEN AND MEMORIES 



CHAPTER X. 

Leidesdorff street, as we have previously said, 
was originally a little levee, built along the 
beach, from a point near Sacramento street to 
Clay street, and a great convenience in those 
days it was, to come up in your boat alongside 
this levee, and step directly ashore, and pass up 
your baggage, without the necessity of wading 
and hauling your shallop up the beach. 

On Clay street wharf, at the end of Leides- 
dorff, were the zinc-front stores occupied by 
Ferdinand Vassault, Simmons, Hutchinson & 
Co., J. J. Chaviteau, Selim and Edward Frank- 
lin, and the office of "up-river" steamboats. 

We remember being in the office of the 
steamer "J/c^m," one afternoon in June, 1850, 
on some business with E. W. Bourne, purser of 
the ^^McK." when a very stately individual, 
dressed in a very nice, new suit of navy blue, 
a glazed cap with brass buttons, a voluminous 
white collar, a la Byron, walked in. The dig- 
nified stateliness of his step, the manner of 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 103 

crossing liis hands over his folded, but unbut- 
toned coat, his short neck, heavy features and 
long, dark hair, combed smoothly behind his 
ears, attracted our attention. Two or three by- 
standers touched their hats and saluted him as 
''^Capitan!'' as he walked on to an old-fashioned 
counting-house desk, at which stood an auburn- 
haired man, busy at his ledger. Some conver- 
sation ensued, which was not pleasing to the 
industrious clerk, who exploded with wrath. 

''Who the d 1 cares whether you like it or 

not?" said he. "You can go to — " (here he 
named an exceedingly sultry climate) "if you 
don't like it!" Here the "Captain" drew 
himself up with impressive dignity, and at- 
tempted to speak, but the auburn-haired man 

rattled on: "Who the d 1 do you expect 

to scare? You are nothing but a Mississippi 
steamboat clerk! You haven't been Captain 
long enough to know how to treat people, and 
you'd better go about your business and try to 
learn it." Completely vanquished, the "Cap- 
tain" walked out in a manner strikingly differ- 
ent from that of his entrance ; he of the auburn 
hair continuing a volley of complimentary 
shots, which gradually subsided as the defeated 
disappeared. 

"Who is he?" inquired we of E. W. B., in- 



104 MEN AND MEMORIES 

dicating by a nod of our head toward the 

departed. "That's Captain Charley B , of 

the ^McKimJ'' "Who is he?" nodding toward 
the still growling man at the desk. "That is 

Tom. B , the clerk!" "He will get his 

walking ticket, won' t he ? " " Not much ! " said 
our friend, laughing loudly. "The boot is on 
the other leg — this is California!" 

We walked away, musing upon the poten- 
tiality of circumstances. 

The Pacific Mail Steamship Company had 
their ofiice in Wm. D. M. Howard's building on 
Long Wharf, southeast corner of Leidesdorif, 
until the fire of June 14th, 1850, when they 
built at the corner of Sacramento and Leides- 
dorjBT, where they remained until the completion 
of their new wharf and offices, almost or quite 
twenty years. 

Dall & Austin were on the southwest corner 
of Sacramento and Leidesdorff until the four- 
teenth of June fire, when they built a pier at 
the junction of Sansome and Sacramento streets. 

Gray & Lovering were on the south side of 
Sacramento street, on the corner of a little 
alley which led through to California street, 
navigable, excepting at excessively high tides. 

Robert. Wells & Co. were commission mer- 
chants on Howison's Pier. 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 105 

Locke k Morrison were commission merchants 
at tlie foot of Sacramento street. Wilmot Mar- 
tin was with L. & M. in those days. 

Hussey, Bond & Hale were on Howison's 
Pier at a later day. 

B. Triest's store was on Sacramento, between 
Sansome & Battery — Howison's Pier. 

Benjamin H. Freeman, stair builder, was on 
the corner of Sacramento and Montgomery, 
twenty-two years ago ; his office to-day is in the 
Board of Fire Commissioner's rooms, of which 
Board he is a worthy and respected member. 

Nathaniel Gray, now on the corner of Sac- 
ramento and Webb, was, in the ''spring of '50," 
on the corner of Sacramento and Dupont. His 
advertisement in the ^^Alta California'' of that 
date, informed the public that he sold metallic 
burial cases, exchange on New York, purchased 
gold dust, and gave particular attention to the 
undertaking business. By easy analogy, we 
next come to those whose profession it is to 
execute the testamentary wishes of the men 
whose mortal remains have been consigned to 
the dust from whence they came. 

Halleck, Peachy & Billings were occupying 
offices on Sacramento street, between Mont- 
gomery and Kearny. Subsequently they re- 
moved to chambers in their own building — 



106 MEN AND MEMORIES 

Montgomery Block, on the southeast corner of 
Washington and Montgomery. Gen, Halleck's 
history is world-wide, and Messrs. Peachy & 
Billings are both too well known to require any 
comment in these pages. 

Lambert & Co. (F. F. Low was the Co.) had 
their store on Sacramento, between Kearny and 
Montgomery streets. 

Fitzgerald, Bausch, Brewster & Co. were on 
the same street, near Lambert & Co. 

Everett & Co. (Theo. Shillaber) were on 
Howison's Pier. 

Joseph S. Spinney' s shipping office was on 
the wharfj at the foot of Sacramento street. 

Mohler, Caduc & Co. had an office on Howi- 
son's Pier — Phil. Caduc built the pier. M. & 
C. were in the ship-storage business. They had 
the brigs Piedmont and Casilda off the end of 
the pier. Ship-storage was profitable for those 
in the business, and very safe and fortunate for 
the owners of the goods, when one of the 
sweeping conflagrations came. It was also con- 
venient for lightering goods to the up-river 
steamers, saving wharfage and drayage. Our 
amiable friend Caduc appears to-day just as he 
did twenty-three years ago. We do not see any 
difference in his bright eye, black hair and 
beard, or in his erect figure and quick step. 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 107 

He has taken life very coolly for many years, 
supplying our ardent and impetuous fellow- 
citizens with ice. Mohler, his former partner, 
we have not heard of for many years. 

Howison's Pier commenced at the corner of 
Leidesdorff and Sacramento streets, on the 
south side of Sacramento street, as if it were a 
continuation of the south sidewalk, a narrow, 
little strip, just wide enough for a hand-car 
tramway, and room each side for one person to 
walk. When you came to Sansome street (or 
the line of it, for there was no street then) 
there was a little pier, built out from Howison's 
Pier, running north, and on the east line of San- 
some street. This pier or wharf was just long 
enough to accommodate the store of Hall & 
Austin. 

The store-ship Thomas Bennett was on the 
south side of Howison's Pier, at the corner of 
Sansome street, and was headquarters for the 
Baltimore boys, Messrs. Stroebell, Ayer, Ross 
Fish, Hoburg, Hillard, Ryder, Warner, Bennett, 
McCeny, Hossefross, Hassam, the Gough broth- 
ers, John L. Durkee, Billy Buckler and many 
others. 

The corners of Sansome, Battery and Sacra- 
mento streets were originally built of piles — 
little piers, just large enough to accommodate 



108 MEN AND MEMORIES 

the stores and premises forming the junction 
of the streets. At high tide goods could be 
lightered from the shipping to the stores, and 
from the stores to the Sacramento and Stockton 
steamers. After a while, a narrow row of piles 
was driven from Sacramento street (Howison's 
pier) to Commercial and on to Clay street, 
and then extended to Washington, on to Jack- 
son and to Pacific. Upon the head of these 
piles was nailed a narrow plank walk, about 
four feet wide, without rail or protection of 
any kind whatever. Along this narrow way 
pedestrians passed and repassed in the dark, 
foggy nights, singing and rollicking, as uncon- 
cernedly as if their path was broad Market 
street, instead of an unprotected four foot wide 
plank walk, with drowning depth of water await- 
ing the unwary traveler who might miss his 
footsteps. 

Near Jackson street, a coffee-house was built 
and kept by W. Meyer, where the traders of 
Pacific, Jackson and Clay street wharves, and the 
masters of ships in that vicinity, could get the 
best coffee in town, without the inconvenience 
of walking all the way to Portsmouth Square. 

When the plank-road was built to the Mission 
Dolores, the tollgate was placed on Third street. 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 109 

west side, about the southern line of Stevenson 
street. In those days, when you had turned 
the corner of Third street to Mission street, go- 
ing west, you were pretty well out of town. 
Opposite the Howard cottages, where the How- 
ard Presbyterian Church now stands, was quite 
a lagoon, never wholly dry in summer, and in 
the rainy season, deep enough to drown any- 
body. When you had gone along the plank- 
road as far as Sixth street, you came to a bridge, 
across a marsh. Just before reaching this bridge, 
on the right hand side of the road, was the 
entrance to the Yerba Buena Cemetery. On the 
left of the road, nearly opposite the cemetery 
gate, was the residence of C. V. Gillespie, a 
pleasant, home-like residence, grateful to eyes 
becoming familiarized with board shanties, tents, 
and one-story, oblong, flat-roofed dwellings, 
shooting forth long, blackened, unstable stove- 
pipes. This pretty dwelling, with its high en- 
closure and quiet seclusion, its climbing vines, 
its bright window-panes and neat curtains, its 
substantial sheltering roof and chimneys, stand- 
ing upon the eminence just before you began to 
descend to the bridge, was so unlike our homes 
in the California of those days, and so like the 
old homes on the Atlantic shore, that we often 
used to think it was more affectingly eloquent 



110 MEN AND MEMORIES 

to the giddy, prosperous, thoughtless young 
men who galloped past, to and from the Mission 
and the milk punchy than the most solemn 
sermons preached at stated hours in all the 
churches. 

When past the bridge, and going up the rise 
the other side, we saw a little house, not much 
larger than a full- sized Saratoga trunk, from the 
roof of which bravely pointed a flagstaff, with 
the stars and stripes, and on the door of which 
was the word " Pipesville." This was the 
country-seat and poet's corner of the well 
known "Jeems Pipes," Stephen C. Massett, 
whose songs and music are far better than 
thousands over which the world makes more 
noise and gives far greater credit ; whose recita- 
tions, imitations and essays, both humorous 
and pathetic, are so genuinely good, that we 
are puzzled by the reflection — why is he not 
rich? and recall the old adage, "A prophet has 
no honor in his own country.' ' 

Evrard & Robinson were the proprietors of 
the Dramatic Museum, on California street, be- 
tween Montgomery and Kearny, in 1850. 

Dr. Robinson, in 1851, opened the American 
Theatre, on the corner of Sansome and Halleck 
streets, and did a great business there. Biscac- 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. Ill 

cianti, under the management of George Loder, 
made her dehut before a California audience in 
this theatre. Kate Hayes, Emily Coad, Miss 
Sophie Edwin, Miss Sue Robinson (daughter of 
the manager), Emily Thorne, Julia Pelby, and 
a score of lesser celebrities, filled engagements 
there. 

One evening, when some unusual attraction 
was on the boards, and the house was uncom- 
fortably crowded and exceedingly hot, an Amer- 
ican Sovereign, evidently from "Pike," occu- 
pying a seat in the front of the dress-circle, 
finding the atmosphere too sultry, arose upon 
his feet, and deliberately pulled off his coat, 
laid it upon the seat, and sat down in the com- 
fort of shirt-sleeves. This proceeding was ob- 
served by only a few in his vicinity, as the 
attention of the audience was given to the play, 
which just at that moment was quite interesting; 
but the " gods," who act as mentors for the 
dress-circle just as severely as for the actors — 
always watchful for, and delighted with any 
slip-up in either place — detected this breach of 
etiquette before the offender had seated himself, 
and there arose from the sky-critics such a yell 
of derision that the words upon the stage were 
drowned. The actors ceased for a moment, en- 
tirely unconscious of the cause, supposing the 



112 MEN AND MEMORIES 

tumult would subside ; but, as the bumpkin cul- 
prit had no more idea than the greater part of 
the audience what the clamor meant, he sat, 
gaping at the gallery, wondering why the show 
didn' t go on. All this time the actors stood in 
their places, while the babel swelled to some- 
thing appalling, when some good-natured per- 
son touched the unconventional party upon the 
shoulder and explained the situation. The aw- 
ful din ceased for an instant, as the hydra 
watched the dialogue. "Shirt-sleeves" seemed 
refractory — a terrific roar from the hydra — 
" Shirt-sleeves" quailed at the aspect, and the 
angry words of the impatient auditors in his 
immediate vicinity; started up with an air of 
coerced innocence, resumed his toga virillis, and 
his seat. The yell of triumph that arose from 
the " gods" in their joyful sense of victory, was 
beyond the description of tongue or pen. The 
play proceeded, and the dignity of San Fran- 
cisco dress-circle etiquette was established. 



OP EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 113 



CHAPTER XI. 

The most wonderful case of mistaken identity, 
is that of Berdue, who was arrested and charged 
with the murderous assault upon Mr. Jansen, of 
Jansen, Bond & Co., and the robbery of their 
store on Montgomery street. 

The general outline of this curious story is 
familiar to all old San Franciscans, and was pub- 
lished in the "Annals of San Francisco;" but 
the remarkable particulars, the facts of the 
case, are stranger than fiction — would in a 
romance be deemed overwrought. Thomas Ber- 
due was arrested for the crimes above-men- 
tioned, taken to the bedside of Mr, Jansen, who 
was supposed to be in articuh mortis^ and recog- 
nized by him as the man who assaulted him. 
Another man was taken with Berdue to Mr. 
Jansen' s bedside, but he pointed out Berdue at 
once as the criminal. 

He was remanded to the jail, then in the Gra- 
ham House, on the corner of Kearny, and was 
there tried for the crime, by the exasperated citi- 
8 



114 MEN AND MEMORIES 

zens, who no longer trusted the authorities; but 
the jury failed to agree. Then the citizens assem- 
bled to hang him, but were restrained by the 
military until calmer counsel prevailed. Mean- 
time, Berdue had been recognized as the mur- 
derer and robber of Sheriff Moore, of Auburn, 
California, was taken there, tried, convicted and 
sentenced to death. 

There was not the slightest room for doubt 
in the matter. Men who had known him in 
Australia, and men who had worked with him 
in the mines of California, swore positively that 
Berdue was not Berdue, but Stuart. They 
were not likely to be mistaken; the prisoner 
was a peculiar looking man, tall, inclined to 
stoop, his beard remarkably black, long and 
pointed, but his hair was a rich brown, fine and 
wavy, reaching below his collar. He had lost a 
joint from one of his fingers; had a little slit 
in one of his ears, and a scar over the left eye- 
brow. His eye was black, glittering and rest- 
less; his nose, aquiline; and he had a defiant 
way of raising his head and looking around him. 
In his gait there was a marked peculiarity, a 
long, measured step or stride, like one pacing 
the measurement of ground. The witnesses 
were not likely to be deceived, with all these 
peculiar marks of identity. Therefore, he was 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 115 

condemned to hang, and a very short time 
allowed him for preparation. While awaiting 
his sentence, there lay in the harbor of San 
Francisco an English merchant ship, which had 
brought a cargo to this port, and was about to 
sail for home. The Captain's wife was on board 
with him. One night, after they had turned in, 
they heard a sound like some one on deck. 
After listening a moment, without hearing any- 
thing more, they ceased to give it farther atten- 
tion; but presently, hearing an unusual move- 
ment in the cabin, the Captain stejaped out to 
ascertain the cause, when he was felled by a 
slung-shot, the same weapon used upon Mr. Jan- 
sen. The brave wife was grappling with the 
would-be murderer, before he could turn from 
his victim to robbery. This was an unexpected 
dilemma for the ruffian. He tried choking and 
'' slung-shotting" her, but she clung to his hands 
with a tenacity that defeated him, and screamed 
with such a power in her desperation, that the 
alarm was quickly given, assistance promptly 
came, and the cowardly villain was soon in the 
hands of the Vigilance Committee on Battery 
street. 

This was the real Stuart! the murderer of 
Sheriff Moore and the robber of Jansen. When 
he was brought to daylight, on the morning 



116 MEN AND MEMORIES 

after his arrest, the people could scarcely real- 
ize that he was not the man already tried and 
condemned to death. When Berdue, who was 
innocent of all for which he stood accused, was 
placed beside the Australian convict and mur- 
derer, the resemblance was something more 
than wonderful ; it was awful, under the circum- 
stances ! 

Not only in stature, complexion, similarity of 
hair — soft, long, brown and waving over the 
shoulders — and long, black, pointed beards; 
but each had lost the joint from the same finger 
of the same hand ; each had the little slit in the 
left ear; the same shaped scar over the left 
eyebrow; and when they stepped, there was the 
same peculiarity of gait. The physiognomist 
could see the aquiline nose, the very black eye, 
and habit of lifting the head to look around ; 
but in Berdue' s eye, the disciple of Lavater could 
not see the cold, wicked, cruel glitter noticeable 
in Stuart's eye, nor the devilish expression of 
his mouth and nostril. When Stuart was 
ordered to be brought out for sentence, the 
guard led him forward from the cell in the cor- 
ner of the committee room to the Judge' s seat. 
Stuart was taller than the guard on either side, 
and his arms were pinioned behind him. His 
black, piercing eyes glanced on every side, as 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 117 

he was led through the throng of men to the 
open space in front of the judgment seat. The 
guard halted with their prisoner directly before 
it. He fastened his gaze upon the Judge's 
calm, solemn face, with an intensity that was 
painful. Breathless silence prevailed for a mo- 
ment. The Judge' s voice pronounced the mur- 
derer' s name, and proceeded with the usual 
form, reciting his crime and sentencing him to 
be taken from thence in two hours' time, and 
hung by the neck until dead, and exhorting him 
to make his peace with God, through the priests 
who were in attendance. 

When the Judge' s words broke the silence 
which fell upon the multitude, as the murderer 
paused to hear his doom, Stuart started, lifted 
his head defiantly, and stood like a statue until 
the sentence was spoken. 

His burning eye was never for an instant 
diverted from the Judge's face, yet, by an inde- 
scribable flash, it seemed continually taking in 
everything around him, as if his sight and his 
attention were divided; fascinated by one ob- 
ject, from which he could not avert his gaze or 
thought; while watchful and intensely conscious 
of every movement and sound around him, like 
a ferocious beast of prey, surprised and angry 
at its capture, maddened with its fetters, keenly 



118 MEN AND MEMORIES 

alert with the hope of escape and the desire to 
destroy its captors, but never a thought of sor- 
row or repentance. 

At the close of the sentence, when the guard 
turned the prisoner back to the corner of the 
room, where the priests stood awaiting him, he 
strode forward with the peculiar step, charac- 
teristic of, and so nearly fatal to his double; but 
his features could not assume indifference. He 
seemed to be argus-eyed; to note the slightest 
movement near him, and to recoil from it with 
that indescribable mingling of fear, entreaty 
and defiance seen in the eyes of men awaiting 
the terrible details of execution. Within the 
appointed time, declining, scornfully, spiritual 
consolation, he was led down the stairs from the 
Yigilance Committee Rooms to the street, and 
escorted by hundreds of the members, each 
carrying a loaded revolver in his right hand, to 
a little pier on Market street, east of Battery, 
where the gallows had been improvised upon a 
derrick used for loading lighters. 

The rope was placed around his neck, after 
some one had removed his hat for that purpose. 
Then, he who had removed the hat, a broad- 
brimmed, low crown, black felt hat, placed it 
upon his head so as to cover his features, and 
pressed the prisoner's hand, saying, "Be firm. 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 119 

and 'twill soon be over!" At a signal, the tall, 
silent figure was suddenly pulled against the 
outstretched arm of the derrick by hundreds of 
hands, grasping the long rope that led from the 
gallows to the rear rank of the band, that 
marched to justice one of the vilest outlaws 
who ever came from the penal colonies of Great 
Britain to the shores of California. 



120 MEN AND MEMORIES 



CHAPTER XII. 

'' Poverty makes strange bed-fellows." So 
did California in early days. Neither gold-dust, 
not yet silver dollars, would always avail in get- 
ting a room to one's self.. A little of the ex- 
perience of those early days took the fastidious- 
ness out of most men. Still, some never could, 
though half-dead with fatigue, obtain dreamless, 
refreshing sleep in blankets, the dread of contact 
with which made him lie down for the night in 
clothing worn all day, thus precluding the re- 
freshment and freedom which disrobing gives 
the wearied body. Nor could he, predisposed 
to insomnia, sink to oblivion comfortably, after 
catching the glittering, furtive glare from the 
eyes of a silent, outstretched figure in the bunk 
above or below the one to be occupied by him- 
self, under the pillow of which he had so 
quietly (thinking himself all unobserved) just 
then slid the little chamois-skin sack containing 
his entire " credentials." 

Where the Cosmopolitan Hotel now stands, 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO, 121 

there was in 1849, and into 1850, a sand-hill, 
nearly, if not quite as high as the spacious struc- 
ture now forming the southwest corner of Bush 
and Sansome — a lonely, desolate looking spot 
even in daylight, and at night, a place to be 
avoided. In the middle of this sand-hill was a 
hollow, hidden from the sight of passers-by, 
either upon Montgomery street or the winding 
path from Macondray & Go's store (on the cor- 
ner of Pine and Sansome), past Cy. Jones' little 
cottage, and skirting the lumber-yard of R. S. 
Dorr, or the path across the deep, toilsome sand- 
waste, afterwards occupied by the Oriental 
Hotel, and now by the warehouse and offices of 
L. & M. Sachs. In the little hollow of this sand- 
hill were tents and board shanties, and occa- 
sionally the deck-house or old galley of some 
ship, the occupant of which suddenly appearing 
in the low doorway, or showing a villainous- 
looking head, with tangled elf-locks and shaggy 
beard, at the little square port-hole window, 
like a bandit-portrait by Salvator Rosa, in a very 
scant frame — an apparition not in the least cal- 
culated to inspire confidence in the minds of those 
who, in broad daylight, had wandered there. On 
the contrary, an immediate desire seized one to 
regain the more frequented pathways skirting the 
lonely sand-hill's base. Runaway sailors, es- 



122 MEN AND MEMORIES 

caped convicts, burglars and desperados of every 
nation, skulked here by day, and prowled forth 
by night, to those acts of crime and violence 
which called into existence the Yigilance Com- 
mittee of 1851. The path before mentioned, 
skirting the sand-hill rising from the corner of 
Bush and Battery, extended to where First street 
now joins Market street. There were buildings 
on both sides of First street. The tide came 
up under the workshops on the east side of the 
street. It was here that James and Peter Dona- 
hue commenced laying the foundation of the 
fortune which has ever since so generously aided 
all enterprise and charity, and every scheme for 
the advancement of public good, aside from 
private deeds of kindness, and "more good by 
stealth" than can be here recorded. 

On the west side of this street were a few 
stores, lodging-houses, restaurants, and a butch- 
er's shop. At the "Isthmus," kept by Mr. H , 

Morpheus could be wooed for one dollar cadet 
nocJie, and won — if the fleas were propitious. 
The sleeping conveniences were not quite Sar- 
danapalian, being open bunks, in tiers three deep, 
a row on each side of the apartment, and one 
row reaching along the entire centre of the floor. 
Dingy gray blankets, and dingier pillows, sans 
sachets, were the accessories. Matutinal ablu- 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 123 

tion was ignored by the worthy landlord. Still, 
this resting place was often chosen, because it 
was not quite convenient to pay three dollars 
cada nocJie for clean sheets and snowy pillow- 
cases at the St. Francis. 

There was a boy (a native of Australia) who 
sometimes gave an exhibition of the manner in 
which the hoomerang is thrown. He became 
known as an adept in casting the mysterious 
missile of Yan Dieman's Land, and often he 
would be hired by people curious to see the 
modus operandi^ and, as he passed along the 
streets to some large, open space, convenient for 
the feat, his audience would increase until the 
number afforded a very nice little contribution, 
when, subsequent to the performance, the hat 
was passed around. It was in the sand-hill 
where the Rassette House was afterwards built, 
and where the Cosmopolitan Hotel now stands, 
that the boomerang was thrown. The boy used 
to swing his body around to the right, sweeping 
the piece of thin, curved wood, like a scimetar, 
back as far as he could reach, then, quick as a 
flash, throwing it with all his force high up in 
the air before him. 

It seemed to the spectator as if it went three 
hundred feet before it suddenly paused, trem- 



124 MEN AND MEMORIES 

bled for an instant, and quickly slid back again, 
down the same path upon which it ascended, as 
if gliding along an invisible wire, until it fell 
upon the sand, a little distance to the rear of 
him who cast the queer projectile. There was 
an ale house called the ''Boomerang," kept by 
Langley & Griffiths, on Kearny street, west side, 
just beyond Palmer, Cook & Co.'s Bank; a real 
English place, "with jolly good ale and old," 
with Cheshire and Stilton cheese, and, on stated 
days, a roasted sirloin, the sight, odor and taste 
of which excited in the breast of native Ameri- 
cans great respect for British meats and British 
cooking. The proprietors were good men, and 
much respected by the citizens. Newspaper men, 
literary men, actors, musicians and others who 
liked quiet and comfort, used to resort there to 
quaff the brown October, enjoy a good cigar, and 
look over the "London Times," the "Illustrated 
London News," "Punch," "Bell's Life" and 
"The Hue and Cry." "Jeems Pipes of Pipes- 
ville" was often here, and Jeems is, or ought to 
be, a judge of good ale. 

The "Boomerang" has gone forever, like 
very many of its hahitues. Its courteous hosts 
are — we know not where! New and preten- 
tious buildings front upon the old site. Nothing 
remains save its memory, which is pleasant. 
Requiescat in pace! 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 125 

We believe that Mr. Langley, of the firm of 
Langley & Co., druggists in this city, is a 
brother to mine host of the old " Boomerang." 

Charley Elleard, as early as June, 1850, 
kept a bar and oyster room on Clay street, on 
the north side, about midway between Kearny 
and Montgomery. It was a very neat, stylish 
place. Oyster stews (canned oysters) were 
one dollar and fifty cents per plate, and 
considered very reasonable. Fresh 03"sters were 
unknown then ; subsequently they were brought 
from Shoalwater Bay, by Captain Russell, and 
first sold by Toney Oakes, on Kearny street, 
north of Washing;ton. 

Charley Elleard was a constable in 1850, and 
in the execution of his official duties, rode a 
black pony, with white feet, a sagacious equine, 
the pet of everybody about Clay street and the 
neighborhood of the Plaza and adjacent Kearny 
street. His saddle and bridle were Mexican, 
gorgeously caparisoned with jingling silver, pol- 
ished with care and glittering in the sun. He 
had learned the luxury of polished understand- 
ing; and if anybody would place a two bit 
piece in his mouth, straightway he would march 
to the bootblack stand on the southwest corner 
of Kearny and the Plaza, drop the money into 
the hand of the operator, put one hoof upon the 



126 MEN AND MEMORIES 

boot-rest, quietly note its polishing, and when 
finished, raise the other, gravely wait its manip- 
ulation, then walk directly back to his master's 
office. His ponyship seemed to derive especial 
enjoyment from this maneuver; whether from 
the polish on his hoofs, or the prevalent custom 
of trying to see how much money he could 
spend, we do not know, bilt as two bit pieces 
were plenty, and the pony was always ready, he 
might often be seen as we have related. 

Three years ago, Mr. Elleard, who was revisit- 
ing San Francisco, told us that the old pony 
was still living in his paddock in St. Louis, 
stone blind, and. just able to walk across the 
ground, whinnying feebly, and rubbing his nose 
against his master' s hand whenever he came to 
look upon his faithful old servant and companion. 

Everybody in San Francisco knew the signal 
for a side-wheel steamer; and about the time 
one was expected with the mails, men used to 
come to their store doors and look up at the 
signal-house on Telegraph Hill, right in the line 
of Montgomery street. The signal for the side- 
wheel steamer, was like two outstretched, up- 
lifted arms — two long, black boards, one on 
each side of the long, black signal pole. 

Everybody knew this signal, and knew that 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 127 

the P. M. S. S. Go's steamers were all side- 
wheelers, and citizens were so delighted to see 
the signal of "tidings from home," that it was an 
understood thing for men to suspend all busi- 
ness, and take a drink, in the pleasurable ex- 
citement of anticipation. A crowd at once 
besieged Adams & Go's office, impatiently 
waiting Ben. Moulton, Jo. Broderick, or Billy 
White, with the letter-trunk, and never were 
particular about the change in paying postage, 
so pleased were they with a letter in the well- 
known handwriting. Now-a-days, it would be 
difficult to make men, never similarly situated, 
understand the excitement created by the sig- 
nal for a side-wheel steamer. One night "The 
Hunchback" was being performed at the Amer- 
ican Theatre. G. Thorne, Senior, was " Master 
Walter." The house was crowded in every 
portion. The play had progressed to where 
"Julia" has quarreled with " GlifFord," and 
" Master Walter," just hearing of it, comes in, 
all excitement, and walks to the centre of the 
stage. The actor's figure, dressed entirely in 
black, stood in bold relief against the white, 
flower-spotted scenery representing the draw- 
ing-room walls. Throwing up his arms, long 
and black, he exclaimed, " What does this 
mean ?" "Side-wheel steamer," roared an im- 



128 MEN AND MEMORIES 

mense voice from the gallery. The effect was 
electrical. Shouts of laughter and round upon 
round of applause interrupted the play for some 
minutes. 

X little way below the Cathedral, on Cali- 
fornia street, are two old fashioned, wooden 
houses, of many rooms and halls, and narrow 
stair and passage ways, and unexpected angles, 
nooks and corners. Twenty years ago these 
houses were the aristocratic boarding-houses of 
the city, where dwelt Governors, Chief Justices, 
U. S. Land Commissioners, Commanders of the 
Army and Navy, and U. S. Coast Survey, law- 
yers of eminence, bankers and merchants, and 
beautiful, fashionable and accomplished ladies. 
The house next the Cathedral was kept by Mrs. 
Leland, and the other by Mrs. Petits. Neither 
money nor pains were spared in making com- 
fortable the guests in these dwellings. There 
was an atmosphere of enjoyment, a cordial, 
friendly intercourse, among those who assem- 
bled at the dinner-tables, spread so bountifully 
there, from '49 to '56, which made very pleasant 
hours for the guests then, and pleasant in the 
recollection of to-day, with many middle-aged 
ladies and gentlemen. 

The gentler sex were rare in those days and 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 129 

accordingly worshiped, petted, feasted, courted, 
and constantly the recipients of costly tokens 
of regard from admiring acquaintances, eager 
for the society and humanizing influences from 
which California's isolation debarred them. 
The loveliest girl of to-day in San Francisco 
would open wide her eyes at the homage which 
was laid twenty years ago at the feet of very 
commonplace ladies — ladies whose school-girl 
days were a long way back in the perspective 
of life's road. The fair ones of those days, 
many of them, found in San Francisco fortunes 
as rich as the toiling miner unearthed far up in 
the mountains. We know, among our aristocracy 
of San Francisco, wealthy dames who were pretty 
servant girls in years gone by; one in parti- 
cular, who was a nurse-maid in one of those 
wooden houses of which we have been writing, 
Neither did we ever know anything but good 
of them; nor do we ever meet them without 
feeling glad of the good fortune which is theirs. 
There is a man whose face is familiar to us, 
and to all who frequent the business haunts, 
who excites a different sentiment whenever we 
meet him. Several years ago he was a day la- 
borer for a man who was engaged in successful 
business in this city; who lived in his store, and 
slept there; frugal, temperate and industrious, 
9 



130 MEN AND MEMORIES 

gradually accumulating sufficient to make a 
home for his wife and little ones, then far away 
in another country. One morning his store was 
not opened as usual, and, uj)on investigation, the 
neighbors found him dead in his bed. It was 
known that the departed never had done any 
banking — keeping his money hidden somewhere 
in his premises. It could not be found; but 
the man in his employ, who never had any 
means of acquisition, save his daily wages, never 
sought employment elsewhere, but very soon 
after his employer's demise loaned several thou- 
sand dollars upon valuable improved property ; 
and from that day to this he has been among 
the capitalists of San Francisco. No one is his 
associate. He walks the streets as if seeking 
something upon the pavement. His manners 
are morose, or spasmodically gay — plenty of 
money, but never a day' s happiness ! 

Another: a large holder in a certain richly 
remunerative stock. He is the trustee for the 
property of a deceased friend' s child. For years 
he has, by every possible means, kept from its 
rightful channel a large part of the constantly 
increasing income, diverting to his own coffers 
another's property. In the eyes of the busi- 
ness community he is one of our most respect- 
able citizens : in his own estimation, an unhappy 
thief. 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 131 



CHAPTER XIII. 

We were at a wedding the other evening in 
the Starr King Church, Rev. Dr. Stebbins, 
Pastor. The sight of the pretty bride made us 
more fully realize the flight of time, than any- 
thing that has occurred to us in our California 
life; because we remembered, as if it were only 
one year ago, the day the brid,e was born, and 
remember our taking a congratulatory glass of 
wine with her father. She was born on board 
a storeship in this harbor twenty years ago. It 
was very comfortable, living on a storeship in 
those days, and rather an enviable situation. 
The cabins were fitted up in the cosiest and most 
convenient way; there was no fear of fire, as 
with those ashore; no dust; and if callers were 
coming, they could be observed at some con- 
siderable distance in the approaching boat, and 
received without any inconvenience or the em- 
barrassments incident to deshabille or the surprises 
of city life. There were many storeships then, 
and where they were anchored seemed a long 



132 MEN AND MEMORIES 

way out in the harbor ; but to-day rows of ware- 
houses stand u-here the old dismasted hulks 
floated with their stored merchandise. 

How many men now living in all the glory of 
soup, fish and three courses daily, from the 
artistic hand of a chef^ can well remember the 
pie, doughnuts and coffee they took with a royal 
relish, at the stand in the old ship AjJoIlo, on 
Battery street. 

Two bits for a cup of coffee ; two bits for a 
piece of pie ; or if hunger and economy were to 
be considered, two doughnuts for a quarter of 
a dollar. Hardly anybody said "two bits" or 
quarter of a dollar in those days. It was ^Uhs 
reales!'' ^^cuatro reaks!'' '^impeso!'' Nearly all 
the new comers had either crossed the Isthmus 
or came by the "Horn," stopping at old 
Spanish cities en 7Viite, picking up sufficient 
de la lengua to ask for anything they wished to 
purchase. This coffee stand was made by 
cutting into the Apollo's hull, just under the 
cabin windows, and many a man who stepped 
ashore from his long, weary voyage, took his 
first meal in California at this place. 

The proprietor afterwards built a commodious 
store for general merchandise at the corner of 
Battery and Sacramento streets, then the extreme 
end of Howison's Pier, where in honorable trade 
he accumulated an independence. 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 133 

The men are still plentiful who like to tell of 
landing on the beach between Long Wharf and 
Jackson street ; of seeing the water at very high 
tide, reaching to the west line of Montgomery, 
near the coraer of Jackson street. 



\_From the Alta Calfor7iia.~\ 

The old Niantic Hotel is a thing of the past — it has 
been torn down and carted off piecemeal. Yester- 
day the floor were "turned up," much to the gratifi- 
cation of the Micawber Convention, which has been 
in daily session at the corner of Clay and Sansome 
streets since the work of demolition commenced. 
The principal object of interest is the hull of the old 
ship Niantic, which formed the foundation of the 
building, and a portion of which is now plainly visi- 
ble. The old hulk has lain there for over twenty-two 
years, and many old San Franciscans distincty re- 
member the time when she was used as a storeship 
until the fire of May, 1851, which left nothing but 
the charred hull of the old vessel. The Niantic was 
an English ship, and sailed from Liverpool to Valpa- 
raiso about a quarter of a century ago. In the latter 
port she was purchased by Moorhead, Whitehead & 
Waddington, a Chilian merchant firm. They refitted 
the vessel and sent her to Panama, in command of 
Captain Cleveland. She reached that port about 
April, 1819, just when the California gold fever was 
at its height, and people were flocking from all parts 
of the world. The Niantic was at once billed for San 
Francisco, and in a few days after she sailed with a 
cargo of tropical produce and 248 passengers, arriv- 
ing in this harbor on the fifth of July, 1819, after a 
voyage of sixty-eight days. Within a week after her 



134 MEN AND MEMORIES 

arrival the crew deserted, in accordance with estab- 
lished usage, and the old ship was left anchored idly 
in the stream — a useless "elephant" on the hands of 
her consignees, Cook, Baker & Co. A few months 
later she was sold to parties here, who hauled her 
close in shore, near what was then the foot of Clay 
street, and there she has lain snugly ever since. After 
the May fire, in 1851, the building since known as 
the Niantic Hotel was erected. It was first leased by 
L. H. Eoby (who committed suicide some two years 
ago), under whose management it secured the reputa- 
tion of being the best hotel in the city at the time. 
In 1851 Roby sold out to a man named Johnson, who 
kept the hotel a short time, and sold out to Daniel 
Parrish in 1852. While Parrish kept the hotel one 
of his boarders was arrested on a charge of stealing 
a very large sum of money. He was convicted and 
sent to the State Prison for a term of years, but the 
stolen money was never recovered, although it was 
supposed at the time that it was secreted somewhere 
about the hotel, and diligent search was made for it. 
P. T. "Woods, who had been clerking for Parrish, 
bought his employer out soon after the event above 
referred to. He did a thriving business and made 
money — so much, in fact, that when he settled up and 
"vamoosed " for parts unknown, those who knew said 
that he carried with him more money than he took in 
while "running" the Niantic Hotel. 

N. H. Parkell next leased the hotel, and while he 
was in possession the convict one day entered the 
hotel office, said that he had buried a lot of money 
beneath the doorstep, and asked to be permitted to 
dig for it. Four or five feet of sand had been thrown 
over the place where the thief said that he had buried 
the money. But although it was all removed, the 
money was not found; and although the laborers 
lately engaged in pulling down the house searched 
diligently, it could not be found. Parkell continued 
the lease till 1864, when he transferred it to Miss 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 135 

Mooney, sister of Assistant Engineer Con. Mooney, 
and she continued as landlady of the house down to 
the last moment of its career. 

Charles L. Low is owner of the lot, and he pro- 
poses to erect forthwith a handsome and substantial 
four story brick building. The lower floors will be 
occupied by fruit and produce markets, the second 
story by printing-offices, and the third and fourth 
stories for various purposes. Having carefully 
stored his mind with the foregoing facts, any person 
will be fully qualified to mingle with the Micawbers 
and play himself off for an old forty-niner. 



The NiantiG storeship, at the corner of 
Clay and Sansome streets, was burned on the 
fourth of May, 1851. Upon its site the Niantic 
Hotel was erected, which stood until 1872, when 
it was torn down to make way for stores built 
by the owner of the land, Mr. C. L. Low. The 
Niantic Hotel was erected upon the ruins of the 
old storeship, without digging any cellar. When 
the excavation was made for the cellars of the 
new building, many relics of the fire of '51 
were unearthed. The old hull at the time of 
the fire was imbedded in the mud some eight 
feet or more below the water line. At this line, 
after the conflagration, the debris was cleared 
away and the floor timbers of the hotel laid, 
covering and keeping safe from public knowl- 
edge, stowed away in the remnant of the old 
hull, thirty-five baskets of champagne and many 



136 MEN AND MEMORIES 

other articles on storage. Twenty-one years on 
storage! We have not learned whether any 
bill for this has been sent to Mr. Yan Brunt ; 
but the wine was placed on storage by that 
gentleman and his partner at that time — Mr. 
A^erplanck. Their store was on Sansome street, 
adjoining the JSTiantic. The wine was the 
Jacquesson Mis brand — a superior wine, very 
popular in California, where dry wines are 
always preferred. This long buried wine was 
found — or rather the bottles were found — in 
most remarkable preservation; the wires, and 
even the twine, being in better condition than 
many shipments just off the voyage from France. 
Champagne deteriorates after the third year; 
but this wine had been so completely covered 
as to be almost excluded from the air, and some 
of the wine effervesced slightly on uncorking, 
and was of very fair flavor. 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 137 



CHAPTER XIV. 

In 1849, previous to taking the house on 
California street, above Kearny, Mrs. Petits oc- 
cupied the house standing on the spot where 
the Merchants' Exchange now stands, on Cali- 
fornia street, below Montgomery, The guests 
at this house were the leading men among the 
mercantile and professional class, and it was 
esteemed a privilege to obtain quarters there. 
The house stood at some distance from the 
street. After it was destroyed by fire, the Baron 
Terloo, a Russian nobleman, built two houses 
on this lot. 

The house afterwards built on the southwest 
corner of Leidesdorff and California was called 
"The Cottage." Ellen Moon was the landlady. 
The adjoining house was kept by Mrs. Manning. 
Mrs. Moon was from Australia, and the wife or 
widow of an English shipmaster. The first time 
we saw her, she reminded us of the landlady of 
the " Green Dragon,' ' in Martin Chuzzlewit; nor 
do we ever think of the landlady of the "Green 



138 MEN AND MEMORIES 

Dragon" now without seeing the person of Mrs. 
Moon. She was the personification of neatness. 
"There -were roses in her cheeks — aye, and 
worth gathering, too!" This quotation — Dick- 
ens' remark upon Mrs. Lupin's appearance — 
came to mind the moment we saw her. The 
place had a cosy, comfortable air— real English 
— and the wines, liquors and ale in her bin 
needed no bush. The end and aim of her exist- 
ence seemed to be somebody else's happiness and 
comfort, and self-abnegation. After leaving 
this place she opened the " Ivy Green' ' on Mer- 
chant street, which she kept until her death. 
Many who wore phylacteries upon their fore- 
heads, and from their lofty, social pinnacle 
looked a long way down upon Ellen Moon, will 
lift their vision high as Dives' to look upon her 
in the world where deeds outweigh the words 
of Pharisees. 

We have all heard of the party of miners who 
found an old bonnet on the road in '49, and 
simultaneously, without a word, dropped picks, 
shovels and rockers, clasped hands, as if by pre- 
concerted signal, and capered in an amorous, 
laughing ring, around the cast-off head dress. 
We remember the day, when a woman walking 
along the streets of San Francisco was more of 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 139 

a sight than an elephant or giraffe would be to- 
day. Men lingered to see them pass, crowded 
to the wharves when they arrived, and followed 
them along the streets to their dwellings, and 
stared out of countenance the house's front. 
We were in Riddle' s auction rooms one day, at 
a crowded sale, when, in a momentary pause of 
the auctioneer's voice, some one shouted, " Two 
ladies going along the sidewalk!" Instantly 
the crowd of purchasers rushed out, pell-mell, 
swarming the street so suddenly, and in such 
numbers, that the unconscious objects of the 
commotion were startled with the impression 
that fire or earthquake had come again. 

Judge S told us that when he arrived in 

1849, and walked up from the ship, with his 
wife and several little children, men crowded 
about the children, asking permission to kiss 
them, to shake hands with them, to give them 
gold specimens out of their chamois skin sacks, 
or a little gold dust tu make them rings, or 
something for an ornament, following them a 
long way, as if fascinated by the sight of their 
child ■ faces and voices. Mr. and Mrs. Greorge 

W , who kept a very select boarding-house 

on Clay street in the early days, told us of a 
similar experience with their children. The 
boys and girls of San Francisco in that time. 



140 MEN AND MEMORIES 

who were not spoiled, were remarkable children. 
The sight of their faces touched tender places 
in the hearts of men, divided by a continent' s 
breadth from their own little ones ; and to give 
other children toys, money, or something for 
their happiness, was a natural impulse, however 
questionable as to ultimate results. 

When the Custom House, on the corner of 
California and Montgomery, was destroyed by 
the fire of May 4th, 1851, the treasure saved in 
the brick vault was removed to the bank of 
Palmer, Cook & Co., corner of Washington and 
Kearny. A guard, a la militaire^ composed of 
the Custom House officials, armed and equipped, 
under the command of T. Butler King, Collector, 
escorted the revenue money from the ruins of 
the Custom House to the bank, "in due and 
ancient form." This action of the Collector 
excited much ridicule and many newspaper 
squibs, and brought forth a comic ode, satirical 
of T. Butler King. To those well informed 
upon the numbers, character and proceedings 
of the professional burglars, murderers and 
thieves infesting San Francisco, the action of 
the Collector in guarding so thoroughly the 
Government money entrusted to him, was laud- 
able and praiseworthy in the highest degree. 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 141 

We remember that while the Custom House 
boys were standing in the street awaiting the 
opening of the vault, Captain Macondray, who 
happened in the neighborhood, said: ''Well, 
boys, suppose we go over to the 'Blue Wing,' 
and join in a universal drink, before the army 
takes up its line of march?" 

Tom Harvey replied: "The motion is in 
order," and George Bromley said: "So mote it 
be!" and the Captain's hospitable offer was car- 
ried into effect. This "universal drink" was a 
favorite expression of the Captain's, when 
offering hospitality to any numerous gathering. 
All the residents of that time knew Captain 
Macondray, his kind face and welcome smile, 
his sparkling eye and short, curling hair, his 
compact figure, and the firm, honest grasp of 
his hand. 

One of the familiar objects of San Francisco 
was Captain Macondray on his black, pacing 
horse, a sleek, easy-moving nag, with four white 
feet. Erect in his saddle, his gray, felt hat, 
with the rim caught up close against the crown 
each side, a la cJiapeau militaire — moving about 
in all the business streets, the CajDtain's face 
and form were ever pleasant to the eyes of his 
fellow-citizens then, as now is the memory of 
his sterling virtues. 



142 MEN AND MEMORIES 

The old signal station on Telegraph Hill was 
a very important feature in the days when those 
long, black arms stretched out to tell thousands 
of anxious husbands, fathers and lovers that the 
steamer, bearing news of hope and happiness, or 
of the death of loved ones, was then in sight. 
How that signal for a "side-wheel" (the mails 
were brought only on the side-wheel steamers) — 
how it did wake up the street ! All along the line 
of stores were men out upon the walk, their 
faces all turned in one direction, looking at the 
signal. They couldn't do any business after a 
sight at those well-known, outstretched, up- 
lifted arms, almost human in their welcome 
significance. "Come in, bye and bye!" the 
merchant would say to his customer; "the 
steamer is telegraphed!" "What!" (with de- 
lighted surprise) ; "didn't know that !" and the 
would-be buyer left in a hurry. The idea of 
news from wife, children or sweetheart to a 
man, thirty days' distance away, made him ig- 
nore business at once. 

The old telegraph-station was a place of much 
resort. It was attractive from its associations, 
and it was good exercise to walk up there, and 
the view repaid the trouble. There were good, 
generous, refreshing milk-punches to be had 
in the room beneath the look-out on the roof. 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 143 

where privileged visitors could ascend and use 
the telescope. Without a telescope, to-day, it 
will be very interesting to any man who knew 
San Francisco twenty years ago — yes, ten years 
ago — to walk up to the hill-top and ''view the 
landscape o'er." There are thousands of men 
in San Francisco who have not been to the 
summit of Telegraph Hill in eighteen years, nor 
wdll our eloquence coax them to attempt it; 
but it is really worth the trouble. 

Mr. Bradley (now of Bradley & Bulofson), the 
daguerrean — there were no photographers in 
those days — practised his art on the west side 
of Montgomery, between Washington and Jack- 
son. His prices were from eight dollars up- 
wards, according to the size and style • of the 
portrait and frame. The courteous artist was 
hardly allowed time to breathe, much less to eat, 
or take a moment's rest for a day or two before 
the departure of a steamer. Californians were 
so anxious that their friends in civilized coun- 
tries should see just how they looked in their 
mining dress, with their terrible revolver, the 
handle protruding menacingly from the holster, 
somehow, twisted in front, when sitting for a 
daguerreotype to send "to the States." They 
were proud of their curling moustaches and 



144 MEN AND MEMORIES 

flowing beards ; their bandit-looking sombreros; 
and our old friend Bradley accumulated much 
oro en polvo, and many yellow coins from the 
private mints of Wass, Molitor & Co., Moffatt & 
Co., Dubosque, and Baldwin & Co. Mr. Bradley 
appears just the same to-day (at Bradley & 
Bulofson's) as he did twenty-three years ago; 
wears the same conventional silk hat, so seldom 
seen in those days — so universally worn now; 
the same quiet black suit; and his hair and beard 
were almost as silvery then as now. JS'either has 
he altered in the urbanity and unvarying courtesy 
which made him so popular and filled his purse 
twenty-three years ago. Many of the old daguer- 
reotypes and ambrotypes are preserved by those 
to whom they were sent; and many a middle- 
aged h4isband and father has had them care- 
lessly handed to him by his wife or the big 
boys and girls, in the secret, who were much 
amused at his questions, and failure in recog- 
nizing Mr. Bradley's production, of which he 
was so proud so many years ago. 

John S. Eagan' s paint, oil and varnish store 
was on Montgomery street, two or three doors 
north of the Custom House. Mr. Eagan was a 
very prominent member of Howard Engine Co., 
and was enthusiastic in every thing for pub- 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 145 

lie good or private charity, and never hesitated 
about putting his hand in his pocket and giving 
liberally on the slightest provocation. Bob. 
Bernard used to paint signs and fancy work for 
Eagan, and it was quite a pleasure to watch his 
steady hand and rapid progress with the brush 
and pencil. He used to stand oS from his work, 
holding his brush at arm' s length, drawing the 
color along the lines, plumb up to the angles of 
the letters, as easily, and calmly, and exactly, 
without pause, tremor or hesitation, as if uncer- 
tainty or nervousness were something entirely 
unknown to him. It was a treat to see him sweep 
his pencil on the curves of great, street-sign 
letters as gracefully and easily as if he were wav- 
ing a signal, or giving from the leader's stand, to 
an orchestra, the temjJo for an adagio movement. 
Mr, Bernard worked so easily and so rapidly, that 
his salary for the week's effort was little, if any 
less, than that of the President of the United 
States for an equal period. Fires were so fre- 
quent then, and the gambling-saloons so spa- 
cious, so elaborately decorated and gilded every 
time they were rebuilt — so many new business 
firms were forming and changing, requiring new 
signs and numbers, that Messrs. Eagan and Ber- 
nard accumulated money in a most interesting 
manner. They were not "Eagan & Bernard" as a 
10 



146 MEN AND MEMORIES 

firm, although they were in the same store, and 
worked for each other's interest much better 
than partners in business generally do. 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 147 



CHAPTER XV. 

Lieut. Derby ("John Phoenix"), U. S. A., was 
standing in Barry & Patten' s doorway, then No. 
116 Montgomery street, one pleasant morning, 
when, raising his grave, thoughtful eyes, he saw 
a horse and wagon passing by, navigated by a 
phlegmatic Teuton. "Eagle Bakery" was in- 
scribed in heavy capitals upon the vehicle. 

"Hi! hallo you!" exclaimed Derby. The 
countryman of "Our Fritz" slowly turned his 
stolid gaze upon the lieutenant, who was beck- 
oning so earnestly, that the driver hauled up, 
slowly turned his horse around to the curbstone, 
and inquired: " Yat you vants?" "I'll take a 
baked eagle!" said Phoenix. "Eh? vat ish 
dat?" said the sleepy-headed fellow. "A baked 
eagle! don't you understand?" said Phoenix, 
with feigned impatience. "I pakes pread!" 
said the indignant deutscher, preparing to drive 
on. ".Stop!" said Derby, in an authoritative 
voice. "You're an imposter! How dare you 
deceive the public in this way? Here have I 



148 MEN" AND MEMORIES 

been for six weeks trying to get a baked eagle, 
which my medical adviser prescribes for my 
health, and you have raised hopes only to de- 
ceive me. Now, listen! if you don't have those 
words — that falsehood, painted out immediately, 
I'll have you put under arrest and court-mar- 
tialed! Away!" He 'waved the astonished, 
adopted citizen from his august presence; and 
he was not slow to go, as he had evidently, from 
the appearance of his widened mouth and eyes, 
taken the affair as a serious matter. 

Many people have the impression that Lieut. 
Derby was a devotee of Bacchus, and we have 
heard it said that he was a very dissipated man. 
We know that in our acquaintance with him, 
from '51 to the time of his being ordered East, 
we never saw him put to his lips a glass of wine, 
ale or spirits, or anything that could intoxicate. 
We have been much in his company, and under 
all kinds of circumstances, where the weakness 
would have "cropped out" had it been latent, 
but a strong lemonade was the extent of his 
libations, in all the time we knew him. 

When Derby graduated from West Point, he 
was one morning in the office, at the headquar- 
ters of the army, in Washington. Gen. H , 

one of the oldest officers in the army, a venera- 
ble, white-haired soldier, was seated at his desk, 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 149 

engaged in conversation upon some official 
business. Upon its conclusion, he turned to 
the 3^oung cadet, a big lad, and greeted him with 
a very pleasant ''Good morning, Mr. Derby, 
happy to see you, sir! take a seat." Derby sat 
down, bowing his acknowledgments, with the 
demure look he often assumed. "Anything 
new?" asked the General. "Well, no, sir! — 
nothing particular, excepting that remarkable 
gun, invented by Captain , of the artil- 
lery," said the young graduate modestly, looking 
into his cap, which he was diffidently twirling 
in his hands. "What gun? I have heard 
nothing about it!" said the General, with awak- 
ening interest. "Please describe it!" Several 
officers of various grades and rank, present at 
the time, were listening attentively. Derby 
arose, placed his cap upon the chair, looked 
towards the table where drawing materials were 
lying, modestly requesting permission to illus- 
trate the principle of the new gun. The General 
eagerly acquiesced. Derb}^, who was quite 
facile with the pencil, rapidly sketched a dia- 
gram of the gun, surrounded all the time by 
interested auditors. "Now, sir," said the un- 
assuming but talented young engineer, holding 
up before the old General his neat and lucid 
drawing: "This is Captain 's invention 



150 MEN AND MEMORIES 

for throwing projectiles in a curved line, to 
sweep them around and behind intervening ob- 
jects." The General, who had been scrutinizing 
the illustration with the utmost attention, now 
turned the most searching look upon the 
speaker's earnest, modest and serious face. 
Derby clearly and succinctly explained the 
principle of the weapon, the shape of the pro- 
jectile, its motion and effect, thus and so. Let- 
ter A, the muzzle of the gun ; letter B, the line 
describing the flight of the destructive missile, 
its course, and so on. His language was so 
fluent, the words so clear and distinct, his use 
of artillery terms betraying such great intelli- 
gence upon the subject, that his listeners, not 
quite grasping the idea, charged their obtuse- 
ness to ignorance upon the subject. 

"Has the principle been tested?" inquired the 
General, when the young subaltern had ceased. 
''Yes, sir; Sergeant McCue fired the gun off 
yesterday morning." "What was the result?" 
"The shot passed entirely around the barracks, 
striking the gunner in the os coccyges J ^ The 
veteran officer turned square upon the speaker, 
that he might see him more directly through 
his spectacles — like one who doubted his sense 
of hearing. There was a breathless silence, 
while the oldest General in the army was read- 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 151 

ing the blank, puzzling face of the youngest 
graduate of West Point. 

A General ivas a General twenty years ago, 
and consternation was on every soldier's face; 
but, to the great relief of all, the General burst 
out with a hearty laugh, which was joined in 
by every one. "Mr. Derby!" said the lenient 
old soldier, placing his hand gently upon the 
youg scapegrace's shoulder, "remember that it 
is only once in a man's lifetime, and under pecu- 
liar circumstances, that such a thing would be 
overlooked." And it is reasonable to believe 
that no other individual in all the army could, 
under the circumstances, have had immunity. 

A real " London-cry" candy man held forth 
in the early days on the west side of Mont- 
gomery, near Clay street. His little shop-on- 
wheels displayed its store of sweets, over which 
he waxed eloquent. His sonorous voice rang 
out, with a distinct and banging emphasis, that 
would not be ignored. He was something of a 
humorist, and made good local hits, going on 
with the most serious voice and grave face ; his 
head lifted, but with downcast eyes, like one 
exhorting against time, for a good salary. His 
tall, black, narrow-rimmed hat could never 
have been built off English territory; his pre- 



152 MEN AND MEMORIES 

cise cravat and unrelenting shirt-collar were 
cockney; his telling tone and clear pronuncia- 
tion, vaunting his goods, betrayed a long ex- 
perience: " Hore-hound — Pep - per-mint — and 
— Win-ter-green ! Large lumps! and strong-ly 
fla-vored!" A short, dead pause, and "'Ere 
they go ! " This was three times given in a 
tone to excite the envy of a drill-sergeant or 
a stump-speaker ; occasionally diversified with 

the assertion that Judge bought them; 

that Col. bought them; always naming 

some prominent individual. One evening he 
amused the public by exclaiming, in a voice of 
unusual power: "Buy 'em up! Everybody 
buys 'em! Tom B — tt — e's sweetheart buys 
'em! 'Ere they go!" Busy-bodies lost no 
time in informing Tom of the distinction forced 
upon him. He strolled along, listening. Out it 
rang upon the air. Watching an opportunity to 
speak, unheard by others, he walked up quickly, 
saying, "Look here! you quit that, or I'll 
horsewhip you!" " All right!" said the itiner- 
ant in a soft voice — so unlike those vocifer- 
ous lungs, bowing low and courteously; then, 
straightening up, he roared out in the well- 
known voice, "Tom B — tt — e's sweetheart does 
no^ buy 'em! !" Tom looked uneasily around. 
The horsewhip threat wouldn' t work ; there 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 153 

was a rapid and eyidently satisfactory consulta- 
tion. T. B had undoubtedly concluded, as 

many men since that day have also believed, 
that when prominent men are possessed of the 
public ear, and — little facts — 'twere best to sub- 
sidize. Whatever were the terms of that whis- 
pered compact, the obnoxious utterance was 
never heard again. 

The figure, dress, and especially the hat of 
the candy man, calls to our memory the fancy 
coachman and his stunning carriage and pair — 
a real English turnout, the hired possession of 
which, for an hour or two, almost led a man into 
the belief that he was more than the self-same 
individual on foot — that he surely must have 
been intended by Nature for the occupant 
of that equipage, despite Fortune's shortcom- 
ings. The driver, horses and carriage came 
from Australia, and took up their position on 
the southeast corner of the Plaza and Kearny 
street. The driver was the most convention- 
ally correct tj^pe of an English coachman, pos- 
sible to imagine. His sleek, tall, black hat, 
drab coat of many capes, his spick-span gaunt- 
lets, his whip, and the teclinique of its position 
upon his knee, with his hand clasped upon its 
long handle, just above the polished rings, re- 
minded one of a king of England, sitting on 



154 MEN AND MEMORIES 

his throne, with sceptre -handle resting on 
the royal knee, as represented in our child- 
hood's picture books. It was such a wonderful 
thing to ride behind this dignitary; to make 
calls or " shop," hedged round by such a tower 
of strength; so like "Pa's carriage," and not 
the least odor of a hired hack. Ten dollars an 
hour, if engaged three hours, or more; fifteen 
dollars per hour for two hours; and twenty for 
the single hour. Seldom was he idle. He made 
his turnout so attractive that patrons felt satis- 
fied, and he never wanted for custom. We be- 
lieve that, as a rule, those who, seeking public 
support, perform their part better than any 
other, get their reward. The coachman of our 
sketch most surely did, for he purchased a 
wholesome bill of exchange on "the old lady 
of Threadneedle street" when he left for home. 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 155 



CHAPTER XYI. 

There were a number of little public houses, 
of the lowest order and worst reputation, scat- 
tered about on the hillside, bounded by the 
lines of Montgomery, Kearny, Pacific and Broad- 
way, and still higher up the hill, in 1849, '50 
and '51. Shabby little dens, with rough, hang- 
dog fellows lounging about their doorways; 
fellows with their features concealed by slouched 
hats; fellows who always had a way of sliding 
out of sight when you looked at them, as if 
they were averse to looking any one in the 
eye. Skulking knaves, shunning observation in 
the daylight, but very inquisitive after dark, 
coming close up to the passer-by, with an 
effrontery of persistent, impudent curiosity, 
very disconcerting to the timid or unarmed, be- 
nighted citizen. Nearly, or quite, all of these 
C7'ihs were kept by Sydney men and women of 
the lowest class. The signs, swinging or nailed 
above the doors, were the old, historical, En- 
glish or Scotch public-house names, found all 



156 MEN AND MEMORIES 

over Great Britain and Australia. Tlie familiar 
ale-house names, "The Magpie," "The Bobby 
Burns," "The Boar's Head," "The Bird in 
Hand," " The Jolly Waterman," "Tarn O'Shan- 
ter," "The Bay of Biscay," and such time-honor- 
ed inn names. The man whose path happened 
to pass these places after night fall, in those da3^s 
when the way was all unevenness and darkness, 
the hill-side steep and toilsome, no lights, and 
the neighborhood with very few respectable 
dwellings, did not feel as safe as when upon the 
populous streets below. If his step were firm 
and regular, if he carried his head up and went 
bravely on his way, his steps were dogged but a 
short distance. If the skulking follower were 
suddenly confronted, and heard the sharp, omi- 
nous click^ click:! he "vanished like a ghost at 
cock-crow;" but woe to the purse, if not the 
person, of the unlucky man who came that way 
oblivious of his whereabouts, his watchfulness 
lulled, and napping, by reason of potent and 
deep libations. Many a man came to conscious- 
ness at daylight, lying chilled and benumbed on 
the damp hillside, with his head in an agony of 
fiery pain, unable to bridge the impenetrable 
chasm of the past few hours ; the only gleam of 
light upon the situation, dawning upon him 
through the discovery that his money, watch, 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 157 

knife and pistol — every article of value he re- 
membered having on his person when last con- 
scious — were gone. The sand-bag weapon of 
assassination is silent, sudden and deadly, 
unless the robber be merciful — cares only for 
the money, not the life — happens to be in good 
humor, and does not strike maliciously. The 
sand-bag is sure death, if the blow be heavy, 
leaving no outward mark, no fracture, no trick- 
ling blood or swelled abrasion. It jars the 
brain to utter and eternal oblivion. ''''Found 
dead- — no marks of violence — apoplexy the supposed 
cause,' ' was not an unfrequent notice in the Alta 
and Herald of those days. 

MacClaren's Hotel, on the little lane leading 
from Mission — just where the residence of Greo. 
Wright used to stand, now Woodward's Garden 
— through to Folsom street, was a cozy, quiet, 
sleepy little public house, built close against 
sand-hills, rising higher than its roof, shel- 
tering it from the north and west winds, as it 
stood facing the south and basking in the fer- 
vent sunlight, just midway in the sandy path 
between the streets, and sufficiently remote to 
lose the noisy rumble of the carriages on both. 
A jolly place to lounge in easy, ricketty, old China 
cane chairs and on bulgy old sofas, with one's hat 



158 MEN AND MEMORIES 

tipped down over face and eyes, shutting out the 
sun's light, while feeling its warm, revitaliz- 
ing comfort stealing through every nerve and 
bone in the sleepy body, and no sudden clat- 
ter of hoofs or rattling carriage wheels dashing 
up to disturb one's somnolent enjoyment. 
The roadway of the lane was sandy and dry 
in some places, and in others, a little, lazy 
brook crept across, smoothing and wetting 
it like the sea beach; and as you sat, doz- 
ing away the hours, idle, for the time, ' tis true, 
but, imbibing at every pore a fresh stock of life 
and strength for future labors, the voices of 
new comers reached your ear before the tramp- 
ing of their horses' hoofs, muffled by the soft 
sand; and the impulse to get into a dignified, 
sitting posture gave way, sleepily, to the ques- 
tion, ''From which direction are they coming?" 
You were quite sure they were from the Mis- 
sion road, when first you heard them, and lifted 
back your hat just enough to blink a little at 
the trees skirting that portion of the lane ; but 
the effort was too much — the bright sunlight 
dancing through the reticulated stems and 
leaves, was quite confusing to your long-shaded 
eyes, and you drew down your sheltering som- 
hrerOj and sank back again to muse upon it. 
You dropped asleep in a second' s time, and in 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 159 

the same time woke again, fully impressed with 
the belief that hours had passed since you fell 
off", while waiting to see who they were — those 
people coming down the lane from the Mission 
road-end, and — very curious — there they were ! 
right upon the ground before the house, but 
from the Folsom street way. Rousing and 
vainly endeavoring to solve the problem, whether 
it was MacClaren' s beer, or the Stilton, that had 
made you "lose yourself" — you observe that the 
guests, laughing and chatting so merrily, are 
George Aiken, Charley Rebello and Captain 
Maryatt, three vivacious young Britishers, all 
well mounted and good horsemen. 

They do not permit you to doze in the sun 
during their stay. At sight of them Mac hails 
his spouse, who quickly appears with cold meats, 
pickles and relishes, an old English cheese, but- 
ter, and a big, home-made loaf, while Mac com- 
mences opening beer — not one bottle, but 
many — long, yellow-labelled bottles of Allsopp. 
What an appetite for beer, and for bread and 
cheese, too, those young Englishmen had in 
those days; and as to that matter, their Ameri- 
can cousins were not very slow, in those bright 
days of youth, health, hope and unsophisticated 
stomachs. What a wonderful incentive to eat- 
ing, is the air of California, and how good the 



160 MEN AND MEMORIES 

bread and butter used to be at MacClaren's! 
Good butter in those days was a rare thing. 
Many people used to ride out to Mac' s just to 
eat the scarce delicacy. They would become 
indignant at their sour French bread or stereo- 
typed German loaf, and firkin butter, via Pana- 
ma, worked over in lime-water, stamped in little 
pats, and sworn to as fresh ranch butter; and 
thinking of the sweet, fresh, cool, genuine 
luxury, and the great, crisp, brown, home-made 
English loaf, always to be found at Mac's, they 
would straightway march to the nearest stable 
and hire a saddle horse or vehicle, to make the 
quickest time for that cozy, old, English public- 
house, now gone the way of all mortality. 

William Vincent Wallace, the highly gifted 
composer of "Maritana," was in San Francisco 
in its early days. The precise time of his ar- 
rival from Australia we never knew, nor the 
date of his departure for New York; but we 
are sure that he was in the latter place very 
early in 1853. Wallace came every day while 
in San Francisco, to an ale-house on California 
street, very near where now is the office of the 
Spring Valley Water Works Co. The ale-house 
was kept by an Englishman named Jackson, a 
man of culture, taste and talent, and something 



OP EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 161 

of an artist. He molded a little plaster medallion 
of Wallace' s head in profile, an artistic produc- 
tion, and a good likeness. Wallace, as we re- 
member him, was about five feet eight inches in 
height; a round, white, high forehead, and nearly 
bald upon the crown, but the rest of his well- 
shaped head plentifully clothed with light brown, 
almost flaxen hair. He wore the English style 
of side whiskers, but no moustache or imperial ; 
his weight must have been near one hundred 
and seventy pounds. 

It is said that Wallace was an Irishman, and 
we are quite certain that he was, although his 
appearance was that of a Scotchman or blonde 
Britisher. His manner was reticent, save with 
congenial people, but quietly affable at all times. 
Wallace' s wife died in San Francisco, and was 
buried in Happy Valley, which seemed at that 
time more remote than the Lone Mountain of 
to-day. Happy Valley was frequently a place 
of sepulture prior to the establishment of Yerba 
Buena cemetery; but the spot where all those 
dead, still sleep, can now be no more pointed 
out, than the blue ocean wave, which once 
opened to receive its dead, gently enfolding and 
concealing them forever. 



In the second story of Macondray & Go's 
11 



162 MEN AND MEMORIES 

store, corner of Sansome and Pine, were sleep- 
ing apartments for members of the firm and 
clerks in the house. One afternoon towards 
dusk, Tom Gary, who had been posting books 
in one of the up-stairs rooms, where he might 
not be disturbed, came out of the room towards 
the stairway descending to the main store, when 
he noticed Belcher Kay's head, just above the 
edge of the floor around the staircase. Kay, 
who was taking a rapid survey of the interior, 
started in a confused way, saying ''Ah, how d'ye 
do? — rooms up-stairs, eh? — do people sleep up 
here ? — nice place, eh? " '' Yes, Belcher," said 
Mr. Gary, in a pointed way, "there are several 
men sleep up here, and they are always well 
armed ; and we have watchmen, and dogs that 
do not sleep in case the watchman should hap- 
pen to." The tone of this reply was too sig- 
nificant not to be understood by Belcher, who 
simply said, "Ah, just so. Good evening, Mr. 
Gary,' ' and withdrew. 

Kay, who had been elected to the office of 
Port Warden for San Francisco, and treated with 
much kindness by gentlemen who were for- 
merly pupils in his school for the art of self de- 
fense, had failed to appreciate it, returning to 
his old ways, and association with thieves and 
burglars, as subsequent events verified. He 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 163 

was assisted by a confrere from Boston in his 
escape. The day we came ashore in San Fran- 
cisco, we were walking with a friend who came 
on our ship, and who at home was a pupil at 
Kay's gymnasium. Kay was delighted to see 
one of his old scholars, and asked, as a great 
favor, if he would go down to his boat — Kay 
was the Port Warden then — and make a few 
notes for him, as he had injured his right hand 
and was unable to hold a pencil. The whilom 
pupil at once consented, and we went off aboard 
the ship. Kay issued his orders, which were 
duly noted down by the impromptu clerk, who 
soon came ashore. When we were alone, he 
laughed, saying, "You didn't understand that 
dodge!" "What is it?" "Nothing; only Kay 
never could write." 

In the month of January, '51, or perhaps some 
time earlier, in the last of '50, Mr. Nathaniel 
Page was unloading some lumber on the beach, 
between Sacramento and California streets, as 
near as we can remember, about where Halleck 
street joins Leidesdorflf. While giving his 
orders to the workmen engaged, Mr. Page was 
peremptorily ordered to remove that lumber 
and vacate the premises. Looking around at 
the person so dictatorial, Mr. Page saw Captain 



164 MEN AND MEMORIES 

Folsom gesticulating violently; and before any 
explanation could be made, the Captain drew 
his revolver and fired at Mr. Page. The shot 
struck the watch in the latter' s pocket, hitting 
it with a slant, glancing off, and perforating 
the side of a boat about fifty feet distant. Mr ■ 
Page wore his watch in the waistband pocket 
of his pants, as was the fashion in those days, 
and a very fortunate thing for Mr. Page that it 
was the fashion just at that moment. The oc- 
currence attracted some attention and a little 
gathering at the moment, otherwise no notice 
was taken of it. Might was right in those days, 
and Captain Folsom was very arbitrary and dic- 
tatorial, by reason of his position and the funds 
at his command, and was accustomed to imme- 
diate obedience. He was a generous, impulsive 
man, but too hasty on this occasion, having no 
reason to fear any squatter pretension from Mr. 
Page, who was as good a citizen as lived in the 
community; and, we are pleased to say, that we 
consider him such at the present writing. Pis- 
tols were very freely used by hot-headed people 
in early days. Captain Folsom, we know, was 
ashamed of his conduct, for he afterward dealt 
largely in a business way with the man whose 
life he had endangered. 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 165 



CHAPTER XYII. 

Staekey, Janion & Go's store was on the 
southwest corner of California and Sansome 
streets. It stood in an enclosure with gates. 
The building was two stories, with a steep, 
sloping roof, and had a balcony or veranda 
around the second story. The building was 
painted white, and the posts and rails of the 
veranda were painted green. The building in 
those da3'S seemed quite substantial and spa- 
cious. In the evening, after business hours, the 
gates were closed, all snug and secluded, when 
ruddy-faced, portly men might be seen leisurely 
pacing the balcony, smoking their No. 1 Manilas, 
suggestive of men who had dined well, and 
drank good old port with dessert; comfortable 
looking men, the sight of whom would excite 
the envy of some passer-by, who had "dined 
with Duke Humphrey." The fire swept away 
this house, leaving no vestige of the comfortable 
looking composite of store, counting house and 
residence. 



166 MEN AND MEMORIES 

West of Starkey, Janion & Co' s store, on the 
south side of California street, were the stores 
of Glen & Co., Backus & Harrison, S. H. Wil- 
liams & Co., DeBoum, Yigneaux & Grisar, and 
G. B. Post & Co. 

After the fire of June 14th, 1850, J. L. Rid- 
dle & Co. built an extensive shanty of China 
matting, wisely concluding that if conflagrations 
were to be so frequent, it were better to raise a 
mere shelter for their goods, at the least possi- 
ble expense. 

The building occupied by this firm prior to 
the fire of June 14th, was a substantial three 
story wooden store on Sacramento street, north 
side, just above the corner of Leidesdorflf. The 
upper story of this building was used as a 
dormitory for all the acquaintances of the firm 
who wished to sleep there — ship masters who 
happened to be late ashore — new arrivals who 
had not established themselves — any man or 
boy who knew Riddle & Co. It was a spacious 
room, nearly square. Hammocks were slung 
at every corner and available post. All about 
the room were cots, stretchers and mattresses, 
plenty of blankets and pillows, but no sheets 
or pillow-cases. 

Against the walls on all sides were large 
China water-jars, China wash-stands and large 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 1G7 

China-stone wash-basins, and cocoanut-shell 
dippers. Nearly all the furniture then was 
of China importation; and very commodious, 
stylish and comfortable it was, too. The 
man who went early to bed in this apartment, 
might sleep undisturbed until midnight or a 
little after; but about that time, several young 
men, not long from Boston, would return from 
protracted meetings — young men musically in- 
clined, who wished to rehearse just once more 
before retiring. These birds of Minerva would 
sometimes discover that a sleeper had posses- 
sion of a very comfortable place they fancied 
for themselves, which would cause a playful 
argument on the sleeper's right of possession. 
When Judge Blackburn, Bob Parker and Char- 
ley Southard were in town. Riddle & Co's hos- 
pitable roof sheltered them, and they were not 
disposed to sleep, as long as any fun could be 
got out of anybody or anything. 

Judge Blackburn would have a wrestling 
match with Charley Southard, and as the Judge 
was about six feet four and Charley about four 
feet six, it was considered rather unequal, and 
excited lively comments from the aroused and 
thoroughly interested fellow-lodgers. Bets were 
freely offered by Jim Riddle, Eben Niles, Ward 
Eaton, Jim Leighton, Harry Spiel, et al. 



168 MEN AND MEMORIES 

Some one would throw a pillow, or a light cane 
chair, or some harmless thing, to trip up the 
contestants, which roused the ire of some one 
else who had a wager pending; then there was 
a general hullabaloo, and pelting of pillows, 
mattresses, china cushions, etc., a perfect pan- 
demonium. There were no ladies or children to 
disturb ; nothing that the fellows did seemed to 
hurt them; their heads and stomachs seemed 
stronger than copper, and sleep was almost 
ignored. 

Captain Charley Scholfield was always to be 
seen at Riddle & Co's in the day time; he had 
a little house of his own — his "ranch," as he 
liked to call it. He was a very eccentric man ; 
affected the nautical, bluff style, interspersing 
his remarks very freely with emphatic exple- 
tives, and assuming a rough deportment entirely 
foreign to his nature, for he was all gentleness 
and kindness. He always wore a full suit of 
navy blue, prim, plain and old-fashioned, a 
brown vicuna hat, never changing the style, as 
the city changed and '49 customs gradually 
vanished. He clung to everything belonging 
to the days when everybody was free and easy, 
liberal and unconventional, and gradually dis- 
appeared from his old haunts — or, perhaps, they 
disappeared from him — and he lived almost in 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 169 

seclusion, in his little box on Post street, next 
to the large lot on which Alcalde Hyde's house 
stood. Here, to the last, he lived as they used 
to live in the pioneer days; his little single cot 
and blankets, the big China water-jar — its cover 
a piece of redwood, with a nail in the centre for 
a handle — the cocoanut-shell dipper; a demi- 
john under the table; clean glasses on the table 
— the Captain was scrupulously neat — and a box 
of cigars on the shelf, welcome to all who had 
the open sesame of an early residente. It is many 
years since the Captain went the way of all 
good pioneers ; but many are left who will recog- 
nize his peculiarities recalled by our sketch. 

The fire of June 14th, 1850, smoked out the 
habitues of Riddle & Co' s upper story, and most 
of them went to the rooms over Mr. Hoff's 
store, on the extreme end of Howison' s Pier, 
which was crowded with goods of every de- 
scription, saved from the fire. Close against 
Mr. Hoff ' s store was a large quantity of cloth- 
ing — black dress suits. The morning after the 
fire, we were all standing on the pier, looking 
at the ruins of the city, when a pleasant, black- 
eyed little man, with an aquiline nose — a brisk 
little man, who had been standing thoughtfully 
looking at the goods on the pier, and many suits 
lying in the mud, where they had been crowded 



170 MEN AND MEMOEIES 

off the pier — suddenly came up to us and said : 
' Grentlemen, if any of those clothes will fit any 
of you, help yourselves! You are quite wel- 
come to them ; there' s no place to store them, 
and they' 11 be ruined here. I shall enter them 
on my books as dosed out hj flre!^^ We all 
stared at him, when he commenced talking to 
us, supposing him demented by losses or over- 
exertion at the fire, and want of sleep ; but the 
good sense of his remarks was quite convincing; 
very much so to men just relieved of their 
wardrobes, and we were not slow in returning 
thanks and availing ourselves of the kind offer. 
Shortly after, the entire party looked as if they 
were ready for church, soiree or funeral. For 
years after this incident it was a standing remark 
with all of them, meeting any one of the num- 
ber with new clothes, to say: "Ah! where was 
the fire?" 

It was considered the correct thing, among 
the men of that time, to help themselves to a 
clean shirt from the collection of the friend 
under whose roof night had overtaken them. 
There was a discrepancy, of course, when host 
and guest were greatly different in stature ; but 
little things like that were not of any moment 
in those exciting, prosperous days. The long- 
limbed man sometimes had to coax the wrist- 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 171 

bands of his short friend' s shirt, and the short- 
necked individual's ears were sometimes in 
danger from the stiff-starched collar of his long- 
necked, hospitable friend. The laundry clerk 
who did not mark with care each lot of linen, 
could never have sorted them by sizes ; wliile it 
was nothing strange for a man to find only one 
or two shirts that would fit him, out of his clean 
dozen from the laundry. 

Captain Gillespie was the wharfinger at Long 
Wharf (a very short wharf it was really) in 1850. 
Young Eddy was the assistant wharfinger, and 
young O'Brien the gate-clerk. Capt. Gillespie 
is now in an insurance office in New York. Mr. 
Eddy was afterwards in Newhall & Gregory's 
auction and commission-house, and subsequently 
was Quartermaster in the U. S. Army. He per- 
ished in the calamity which befel the steamer 
Brother Jonathan^ off our northern coast. Gen. 
Wright and wife, and Capt. Chaddock, of the 
U. S. Revenue Service, were lost on board the 
same vessel. The engines which were on this 
ill-fated steamer urged to destruction the At- 
lantic and her doomed passengers on Long Island 
Sound, many long years before. 

The late Harry Isaacs succeeded Capt. Gilles- 
pie as wharfinger, and subsequently was pro- 



172 MEN AND MEMORIES 

prietor of the '' Identical," where Hussey, Bond 
& Hale were located, previous to building on 
Sansome, near California. 

Capt. David Scannell, late Chief Engineer of 
the San Francisco Fire Department, came to 
California in 1850. He was captain of a New 
York company in the war with Mexico, and was 
in every battle, from the Rio Grande to the city 
of Mexico, behaving with the utmost gallantry 
in every engagement. He was Sheriff of San 
Francisco at a time when all his surroundings 
were of a nature to prejudice the public against 
him; but he never, knowingly, touched a dis- 
honest dollar in his life. We were once of a 
widely different opinion ; but for the past seven- 
teen years have had constant opportunities to 
note that he is always an efficient officer, a punc- 
tiliously honorable man, ever a peacemaker — 
full of charity and kindness. We are pleased 
to record this of a man to whom great injustice 
was done in the community, but of whom one 
estimate only can exist in the minds of those 
who really and truly know him. 

Hussey, Bond & Hale were on Howison' s Pier 
in 1850, and subsequently on Sansome street, 
near the southwest corner of California. Mr. 
Bond was more a resident of New York than 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 173 

San Francisco. Messrs. Hiissey and Hale were 
the resident partners here. The latter filled 
the office of City Auditor for many years, with 
honor to himself, and satisfaction to his fellow- 
citizens. As a business man and an accountant, 
Mr. Henry M. Hale has had few equals in Cali- 
fornia. For many years Mr. Hale was the busi- 
ness manager of the San Francisco Sugar Refin- 
ing Co., and confidential secretary of the late 
George Gordon. 

Mr. James Laidley was on Commercial street 
in August, 1850. He erected a house there, as 
soon as the new extension of the street was 
completed from Montgomery to Kearny. It 
was a frame house, made and fitted in Phila- 
delphia, and brought to San Francisco on the 
ship Wm. V.Kent. Mr. Laidley shipped another 
house from Philadelphia on the Algoma. The 
latter house was erected on First street, nearly 
opposite Donahue's foundry, and was called 
''The Isthmus." It was kept as a lodging- 
house by a Mr. Haste. The accommodations 
were open bunks, in rows or tiers, along each 
side of the room, and a double row in the cen- 
tre. The couch draperies were gray blankets and 
pillows, minus the linen cases, or any other cases, 
for which luxuries one dollar per night was the 



1 74 MEN AND MEMORIES 

charge. Mr. Laidley was the owner, but not 
interested in the business of either of the houses. 
Whatever Mr. Laidley does interest himself in, 
is very effectually carried out, and a truer friend 
or more liberal man never came to California. 

J. C. Flood and W. S. O'Brien were living on 
the corner of Pacific and Mason streets in 1849- 
50, boarding at Mr. Parker's house. Whether 
they were ''Flood & O'Brien" then, as a busi- 
ness firm or not, we cannot say; but they were 
friends, and have been no less so in all the years 
of business partnership — that crucible-like test 
of character and friendship. Mr. O'Brien we 
remember as dealing in produce, a very profit- 
able business early in '50. Afterwards, we 
think, he kept the United States Hotel. Some 
years after this time we knew Mr. Flood as 
Flood & O'Brien, on Washington street, near 
Sansome, and have always found him very like 
his partner — an unassuming, amiable man, al- 
ways prompt, shrewd and correct in business. 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 175 



CHAPTER XYIII. 

In the early days of San Francisco, men were 
not in the least fastidious about their occupa- 
tion. Young gentlemen of elegant leisure in 
the older cities, scholars just graduated from 
college, boys just away from the counting-house 
desk, attracted hither by the golden stories, 
took hold manfully at rough laborers' work. 
There is to-day a banker on Montgomery street, 
who stepped upon the beach in San Francisco 
with only half a dollar in his pocket, in the 
early part of 1849, then a boy less than nineteen 
years of age. He had a letter to a prominent 
man in the city, but was too sensitive to pre- 
sent it. While standing, thinking what to do, 
he was accosted by a man, who said, " Want to 
go to work for an hour or two?" "Yes, sir," 
eagerly answered the boy, following, with no 
more words. His first work in California was 
to assist another young fellow, who stood wait- 
ing, to remove a pile of lumber to make way 
for the foundation of a new store. This job 



176 MEN AND MEMORIES 

lasted a couple of hours, for which he received 
five dollars. Elated by his first endeavor and 
its good remuneration, he walked farther up 
the hill (it was a gradual rise then from the 
beach to the top of Clay street hill) until he 
reached the Plaza (Portsmouth Square), where 
he halted to observe some men digging for the 
foundation of the Parker House. 

After standing a few minutes, he was hailed 
by the foreman: "Want to work?" "Yes, sir." 
"Come on; here's a shovel ! " This paid him 
well. The next job was a good long one, light- 
ering coal, which, when finished, left money 
enough in his pocket to start a fruit and pea-nut 
stand on the Plaza, which paid him a nice little 
sum daily. One day, a man came up to his 
stand, called him by name, and shook his hand 
cordially. It was one of the firm in whose store 
he had commenced life after leaving school. 
The new comer, just landed and unsophisticated, 
asked, "Wouldn't you rather be at work in the 
old store again?" "No thank' e, sir," said the 
boy, "I'm clearing every day more than I used 
to receive in a month in the old store." 

Another old resident, who has houses and 
lands to-day, was standing on Montgomery street, 
near Clay, wishing to begin work in his new 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 177 

home, when a man came to the door of the store 
where our friend stood, and said, "Look here, 
my friend, if you won't get mad about it, I'll 
offer you a dollar to fill that box with sand.' ' 
"Thank you," said the young fellow, "I'll fill 
it all day long on those terms, and never be- 
come angry in the least." "All right! take it 
right out there, where they are hauling sand for 
grading.' ' The box, about as large as an ordi- 
nary claret case, was filled, brought to the store, 
and the dollar was paid. "Now," said the recip- 
ient, "We'll go and take a drink with this dollar, 
if you please." His new employer laughingly ac- 
quiesced, which led to the new comer' s employ- 
ment in the store where his first dollar was 
earned, until the fire of May 4th, 1851, and a 
good connection until the present day. 

There is a man now in this city who made 
forty thousand dollars as carrier of the Alta 
California newspaper; and another who realized 
thirty thousand dollars carrying the Sacramento 
Union and San Francisco Evening Bulletin. These 
cases are personally known to us ; and another of 
a washerwoman, whose earnings, early invested 
in real estate, give her to-day a property worth 
$100,000. A magnate in real estate, who may 
be seen daily on Montgomery street, formerly 
12 



178 MEN AND MEMORIES 

peddled potatoes along the same streets where 
now his own buildings 

" Eear their tall arches towering to the sky." 

Finding a man engaged in his own trade or 
profession — the work for which he had been 
educated — was a rare thing in California. Del- 
icately nurtured men were doing the work of 
common laborers. Young students, whose bi- 
ceps knew only the gymnasium's development, 
who had handled nothing heavier than a fencing 
foil, or mottled malacca, grew familiar with the 
shovel, pick and rocker. San Francisco wrought 
many anomalous conditions in life. The whilom 
professor of a Maryland College was a drayman 
on Pacific Wharf. Graduates of Yale and Har- 
vard, however they construed Horace or Virgil, 
were guilty of no false quantities in their sym- 
posiac compositions. The once wealthy money 
broker of State street, Boston, chopped wood 
and tended fires for a baker' s oven. 

The young lawyer who, from lack of clients, 
peddled port-monnaies in Marysville, could 
have lost nothing of his legal acumen in the 
itinerant departure, as he has since then sat as 
Associate Judge on the United States Supreme 
Bench. One of a prominent law firm in San 
Francisco is no worse an advocate because of 
his experience as waiter in a popular restaurant. 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 179 

Nor do we think that the gentleman who 
once filled the office of County Recorder, with 
satisfaction to the citizens and honor to him- 
self, ever regrets the skill which he, an amateur 
violinist, acquired during his professional expe- 
rience, at twenty dollars per diem in one of the 
temples of chance on the Plaza, in the spring 
of '50. 

Judge , an able jurist, now occupying 

the bench of an interior district, found him- 
self in California in 1849, without money, 
clients, chambers, or a brief. Being something 
of a gastronomist, he accepted the post of chef 
in a restaurant. One morning, while engaged 
in preparing the day' s edibles, a stranger looked 
m at the kitchen door, nodded, and wished the 
Judge "Good morning!" 

'''' Buenos dias!^^ said the Judge — everybody 
attempted a little Spanish in those days — and 
they were soon in conversation. Everybody 
was social then — good-natured and happy, be- 
cause they were prosperous ; there' s nothing so 
conducive to good temper and honesty, as pros- 
perity. 

"I've got a case up here in Court," said the 
stranger, "and I don't know 'zactly what to do 
about it." "What is the case?" asked the 
Judge, interested at once. "Tell me the facts." 



180 MEN AND MEMORIES 

''Well/' said the other, "you see it's just this 
way. I shipped a lot of goods for this place, 
and the ship's arrived, and her cargo all dis- 
charged, and my goods ain't nowhere." "Have 
you the papers you received from the office 
where you shipped your goods?" "Oh, yes, 
every one of 'em. Here they are." The Judge 
neglected the chefs duty, and carefully exam- 
ined the documentary evidence, saying, after a 
moment's inspection, "You're all right, sir; I 
can win this case for you." "Oh! you're a 
lawyer, then ? " "Yes; when does your case come 
on?" "In an hour from now." "Well, now 
listen to me," said the Judge; "you go to the 
Court at that time, and ask the Court to con- 
tinue the case until three o'clock this afternoon, 
as your counsel is unavoidably detained until 
then. Do you understand?" "All right. I'll 
do it, and come back to you." In due time the 
client returned with a favorable report. At 
three o'clock p. m., the Judge was in Court with 
his client, and won the case without delay. 
"What's your fee?" inquired the successful liti- 
gant, as they adjourned to take a drink. "One 
hundred dollars!" replied the Judge. The 
money was cheerfully paid, and the Judge pock- 
eted his first fee in California. "I beg your 
pardon," said a man, confronting the Judge, as 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 181 

he turned from the bar, after their congratula- 
tory imbibation, "I was in Court just now 
when you won that case, and I've got a little 
suit in the same Court. If you can put it 
through in the style you did our friend' s case this 
afternoon, you're just the lawyer for my money.' ' 
They sat down together, and after hearing the 
new client' s case, the Judge took it in charge ; 
was retained to be in Court at ten o' clock next 
morning, and repairing immediately to his late 
employer, resigned the position of chef^ rented 
an office, and has since that day confined him- 
self to the practice or the administration of law. 

Geo. tried his hand at street work in 

1 849, on Clay street, not as contractor, but in 
the shovel and pick interest; but one day's 
labor and one ounce in gold, as remuneration, 
was quant, suff. for George, who has since that 
day found more congenial employment as con- 
veyancer, notary, broker, etc. We will tell why 
he came to leave street-work so abruptly, as an 
illustration of the quick transitions in San 
Francisco life in the spring of '50. As he was 
digging away, earning his "ounce," two men 
met close by and commenced conversation, but 
could not fully understand each other, as one 
spoke nothing but English, while the other was 



182 MEN AND MEMORIES 

a Frenchman, comprehending only a few 
words of English. George, seeing the situa- 
tion, very kindly explained the Frenchman's 
meaning. "What do you know about it?" 
abruptly inquired one of them — we needn't say 
it was not the citizen of the most courteous of 
nations. " Simply that I am a French scholar," 
said George. "Oh, ho!" answered the brusque 

individual. "What the d 1 are you digging 

there for?" "One ounce a day," said our hero. 
"Then come out of it. I want you to make 
translations for me, on better pay.' ' The bar- 
gain was made instanter, and George closed his 
street-grading interest that same evening, and 
commenced work on translations the next morn- 
ing. This transition led to a connection and 
clientage among our French citizens, which our 
friend has retained until the present day. 

One of the largest commission houses in San 
Francisco became bankrupt in a singular way — 
what might be termed retributive justice — the 
romance of commerce. 

The firm had nearly all the English commis- 
sion business in San Francisco, and among their 
account-current charges always put "Insurance 
ten per cent.," which was a myth — not the ten 
per cent! — that was solid coin in the firm's cof- 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 183 

fers — but the "insurance" on shipments — they 
never had a dollar insurance! One morning the 
fire swept everything, and the shippers sajd, 
"Pay us the insurance on our lost goods!" and 
the house was obliged to pay. It not only 
broke the firm, pecuniaril}^^ but broke their 
hearts; they never rallied. 



184 MEN AND MEMORIES 



CHAPTER XIX. 

George Hyde, Esq., the second Alcalde of San 
Francisco, arrived at Monterey on the U, S. frig- 
ate Congress^ as Commodore Stockton's private 
secretary, on the 15th of July, 1846, and has 
been a resident of this State ever since that day. 
Judge Hyde is a Philadelphian; a gentleman of 
studious habits, refined tastes, and very reticent 
manners. No man who has ever occupied such a 
prominent place in San Francisco is less known 
by the public of to-day. The '^Annals of San 
Francisco" makes no honorable mention of his 
name; but "thereby hangs a tale." In the 
spring of ' 50, Alcalde Hyde's office was on Clay 
street, near the Plaza. In the early days of '48 
and ' 49 the Judge resided on Clay street, near 
Dupont, occupying the house since known as 
the " Sazerac," and kept by Mr. Samuel Gard- 
ner. After that time the Judge resided on 
Broadway, from whence he removed to the 
grassy lot near the junction of Post, Market 
and Montgomery streets, an enclosure of con- 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 185 

siderable size, half garden, half lawn; the house, 
a large, square, old-fashioned wooden building, 
considered quite out of town until '53-54. 
Barry Hyde, the Judge' s only son, is Alcalde of 
a Lower California pueblo at the present time. 

Peter Toft arrived in California on the U. S, 
ship OJiio, Commodore Ap. Catesby Jones. Toft 
shipped as a common sailor, with a very slight 
knowledge of the English language, although 
a master of Greek, Latin and several modern 
languages. Toft's deportment and studious 
habits attracted the attention of Commodore 
Jones, who allowed him books from the library, 
and Toft was nearly a master of English on 
his arrival in California. His experience has 
been varied in our State: a miner, a painter, 
draughtsman, writer for newspapers, magazines, 
theatres, etc.; a traveler and naturalist; ever 
industrious, obliging and amiable; by birth a 
Dane, by adoption an American citizen. Mr. 
Toft has been in London for the last two or 
three years, engaged in painting and literary 
pursuits, but we hope for his return to San 
Francisco during this year. 

James Nelson was agent for the pilots in ' 50, 
and was engaged in lightering ships and coal- 



186 MEN AND MEMORIES 

ing steamboats for Charles Minturn. Mr. 'Nel- 
son lived on board the storeship Hesoluta, which 
used to lay off Cunningham's Wharf. Mr. Nel- • 
son was a very liberal, kind man, and assisted 
many to good fortune. B. M. Hartshorne was 
a partner of Mr. Nelson, and also lived on board 
the Resoluta. For a score of years Mr. Harts- 
horne has .endeavored to make everybody be- 
lieve that he is an unamiable, gruff, taciturn, 
morose individual; but his brusque manner has 
availed him nothing. We know his kind heart 
and his many charitable deeds. He is a hypo- 
crite turned inside out — one of the best of men ; 
ever shunning thanks and gratitude. Mr. Harts- 
horne was for many years president of the 
Cal. Steam Navigation Co. 

J. k M. Phelan were wholesale liquor-dealers 
on Jackson street, north side, on the spot where 
so many circus troupes have shown in years 
gone by. The store then occupied by the 
Phelan brothers was a very large wooden struc- 
ture, just such as we see now-a-days erected to 
protect stone -dressers engaged in the work for 
some public building — a big shed, with doors. 
Being down in a hollow, it was found necessary, 
after a heavy rain, to lay planks upon supports, 
to enable the visitor to reach the store dryshod ; 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 187 

and inside, similar means were used to get around 
among the stacks of casks and packages com- 
posing the firm's stock in trade, which was 
always large and valuable, the firm being one 
of the most successful in that line of busi- 
ness in San Francisco. J. Phelan is still living, 
but his brother died many years ago. 

Bingham, Reynolds & Bartlett were on the 
corner of Broadway and Sansome, in a three or 
four story wooden building, we forget which; but 
in our memory the store was a tall, dusty-brown 
building. They did a thriving business in the 
spring of '50. Messrs. Bingham and Bartlett 
are both dead. Of Mr. Reynolds we do not 
know. Mr. Bingham was for many years, sub- 
sequent to the dissolution of the firm, in the 
City Clerk's office, in the City Hall, which post 
he occupied until his death. He was a faithful 
officer and a good man. 

Mr. McShane, the manager of the Occidental 
Hotel for the last few years, was with W. T. 
Coleman & Co., in the same block with Bing- 
ham, Reynolds & Bartlett. Mr. Beideman, of 
''Beideman's Tract," used to be often in this 
neighborhood. He and John Piper were inter- 
ested, either in business or outside lands, with 



188 MEN AND MEMORIES 

Samuel Fleishhacker, who, after the fire of May, 
'51, occupied a store on Pacific street, next to 
the southeast corner of Pacific and Sansome. 



Tim. Burnliam, formerly purser's clerk in the 
U. S. Navy, had a butcher' s shop on the north 
side of Pacific wharf, near the store-ship Arkan- 
sas. Mr, Burnham was an accomplished ama- 
teur vocalist, and with Jas. Gamble and Charley 
Yeemans, used to sing in the choir of the Rev. 
Albert Williams' church. They made no pre- 
tensions as vocalists, but their voices harmo- 
nized perfectly, and, singing so frequently to- 
gether, produced the most charming effect. Mr. 
Burnham returned to his old profession in the 
U. S. navy, died, and was buried at sea. Mr. 
Yeemans was for many years since then on the 
Petaluma steamer. We think that Mr. Gamble 
is in business in Newark, N. J. Even the mem- 
ory of this trio's harmony is delightful. Chance 
brings together such voices — three of the great- 
est singers in the world might as vainly essay 
such harmony, as an ordinary voice to sing like 
the divine Parepa. The "Amphion Quartette" 
of to-day are the best harmonized male voices 
in the city, since Burnham, Gamble and Yeemans 
sang together. 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 189 

0. Livermore was a rosy-cheeked boy, in the 
store of Wm. T. Coleman & Co., twenty-two or 
twenty-three years ago. Ready, willing, quick 
and good-natured, he became a favorite with his 
employers, and the up-river merchants trading 
with them, who were not few in those days. 
He rose to a position of trust and importance. 
For many years after leaving W. T. C. & Co' s 
house, he was in the employ of Pioche, Bay- 
erque & Co., in a very confidential position. 
His strict business integrity has placed him in 
charge of valuable estates, seldom entrusted to 
so young an agent. We sincerely hope that 
twenty-three years hence may find him as hale 
and useful as to-day. 

In the same block with W. T. Coleman & Co' s 
store, nearer to Pacific street, on the west side 
of Sansome, was the store of DeWitt & Har- 
rison, one of the oldest firms in San Francisco 
established prior to the gold discovery. Alfred 
DeWitt and Henry A. Harrison were the mem- 
bers of the firm at that time. Since then the 
house has conducted business under the firm 
name of DeWitt, Kittle & Co., and now as Kittle 
& Co. 

Mr. Kittle was a clerk for DeWitt & Harrison 
in 1850. W. T. Hoffman and young Twiggs — 
we forget his given name, he was always called 



190 MEN AND MEMORIES 

General Twiggs — were clerks in the same house. 
Case, Heiser & Co. and Florence Mahoney were 
in business in this same block. All of them 
are long since dead, and nothing but good 
is remembered of them. Ripley & McCullough 
were on the Pacific street corner of the same 
block, and were agents for the sale of the 
famous McCullough Shot. Mr. Ripley was killed 
by the explosion on board the Jenny Lind; and 
his wife and little daughter, who had just 
arrived in California, perished with him. Mr. 
McCullough has since been a banker in Yirginia 
City, Nevada, for many years. Wm. M. Tileston 
had a portion of Ripley & McCullough' s store, 
in May, 1851. Mr. Tileston was a brother of 
Tileston, of the firm of Spofford & Tileston, 
New York City. 

Henry Mellen was a boy in W. T. Coleman & 
Co' s store on Sansome street, and grew to man- 
hood in their employ, serving them long and 
faithfully. He left the house to join the army, 
where he served his country with the same 
fidelity which distinguished his mercantile 
career. He is now a retired officer, having lost 
both of his feet in the service of his country. 

Dore & Ross were on Sansome street, next to 
the southeast corner of Pacific, in May, '51, as 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 191 

importers and dealers in brandies and wines. 
Mr. Ross died many years since. He was a kind, 
honest, noble-hearted Irishman. Maurice Dore, 
of the old firm, is now the most prominent real- 
estate operator in San Francisco. Barry & Pat- 
ten were on the southeast corner of Sansome 
and Pacific. 

The conflagration of Sunday morning, June 
22d, 1851, was stopped at this corner by nailing 
blankets on the front of the building, and keep- 
ing them saturated with water. Dewitt & Har- 
rison' s store, on the west side of Sansome, 
north of Pacific, was saved by blankets, on 
which was poured 80,000 gallons of vinegar. 

A little way around the corner of Sansome, 
on Broadway, towards Battery street, was the 
grocery of Wm. H. Towne. We have never seen 
or heard of him since the summer of '60, hav- 
ing no occasion to be in that vicinity, subse- 
quent to one day in June, when we were in his 
store awhile. But we remember him as being 
so very unlike the majority of bustling, excited, 
noisy and abrupt storekeepers of that strange, 
golden time — a pale, quiet man, with a soft 
voice, and a smile sweet as a woman' s ; a man 
suggesting the painter, the poet, the musician ; 
with thoughts like Schubert' s — anything but a 
grocer. We remember the peculiarity of his 



192 MEN AND MEMORIES 

complexion; golden-red hair, singularly black 
eyes, and a delicate, pale face. We did not oc- 
cupy ten minutes in our business conversation, 
and have never met since that day in June, 
twenty-three years ago ; but his face is retained 
in our memory, curiously vivid, and oftentimes 
returning through all these years — an unac- 
countable mnemonic vagary. 

Towards noon, on the day of the fire, after 
the flames were well subdued, a sailor lad from 
a French ship in the harbor was going up the 
hill on Pacific street, halfway between Sansome 
and Montgomery, looking at the destruction on 
either side, when the idea occurred to him to 
light his pipe. Stooping down, he was endeav- 
oring to scoop up a little burning coal with 
the bowl of his pipe, when some one of a 
crowd, passing at the moment, cried "Incen- 
diary! incendiary I" With one impulse the 
men rushed at him, knocked him down, and 
almost instantly kicked the poor, innocent lad 
to death, and walked away, leaving the lifeless 
body lying in the street, mutilated past recog- 
nition. A moment before he had passed up 
the wharf in the health and hope of youth, his 
sunburnt cheek, bright eye and waving hair 
giving full promise of longevity. Walking on 
with childish curiosity — his first footsteps in a 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 193 

strange land — such a little way, ending in 
dreadful death. 

The men who committed the terrible deed 
passed on, perhaps not realizing he was dead — 
not caring. They thought him an incendiary, 
worthy of death, and acted out the exaspera- 
tion which filled the hearts of men suffering 
from repeated conflagrations. 

No inquiry was made, for it was useless, and 
the tragic incident, with its victim, was soon 
forgotten ; but it was a sickening illustration of 
the fact that chance is sometimes so dreadfully 
potent. 

13 



194 MEN AND MEMORIES 



CHAPTER XX. 

The clerks of a banking-house on Montgom- 
ery street, in the days when pans of gold-dust 
were standing on every counter in the business 
houses, had been greatly troubled with the gold- 
dust account. It would not balance — varying 
from thirty to sixty dollars every day. Every 
care was taken with it, but to no avail. Ben 
Smith, who had j^uzzled in vain over the books, 
concluded to look outside of them for a solu- 
tion. For three successive days he weighed the 
dust with his own hands, placed it in the accus- 
tomed spot, and sat down in a hiding-place to 
watch. Every morning, soon after the trap 
was laid, a highly respectable man, a partic- 
ular friend of the head of the house, came 
in, as usual, stood about awhile, passed the 
usual greetings, sauntered up to the pan, as 
was his habit for months, carefully examined the 
contents, rubbed it in his hands, dropped it out 
into the pan with a flourish, slapped his hands 
together, and walked to the door, stood for a 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 195 

moment, and then passed out. Soon as he had 
gone, Ben reweighed the dust, and found it 
several ounces short. This programme was re- 
peated by both actors in the little comedy for 
three successive days. Perfectly satisfied, the 
clerk communicated with the banker. "Oh, 
there must be some mistake — some misappre- 
hension — or perhaps a joke on one of his old 
friends," was the banker's exclamation. "The 
joke is a queer one to carry on so long," said 
Benjamin, proposing that the head of the house 
should take the "look-out's" chair, and watch 
the game himself. Reluctantly, he consented 
to spy upon his friend, and was convinced after 
watching two or three days, and seeing the gold- 
dust weighed immediately after his old friend's 
manipulation and departure. After this, he 
was forced to admit, much to every employee' s 
relief, that the mystery was solved. The de- 
ficit for all the past months was promptly paid 
by the gentlemanly kleptomaniac, whose curi- 
osity upon the subject of oro en polvo, as far as 
that particular bank was concerned, ceased from 
that moment. 

Leonard Rowell, assistant superintendent of 
"Wells, Fargo & Go's Express Department in San 
Francisco, arrived in San Francisco on the first 



196 MEN AND MEMORIES 

of September, 1849, on the barque Drummond. 
Mr. Rowell, with Will Gay, a fellow passenger, 
landed at the corner of Central Wharf (now 
Commercial street) and LeidesdorfF street, in- 
quiring of the first person they met for the store 
of Lovering & Gray, Mr. Gay of that firm being 
a brother of Mr. Howell's fellow- passenger. 
They soon found the store, which was on Mont- 
gomery street, just north of Central Wharf, and 
before they had been ten minutes in conversa- 
tion, Mr. G. H. Howard came in and remarked 
to Mr. Charles Gay, that he wished a clerk to 
take account of the lumber about to be dis- 
charged from the brig Belfast^ then lying in the 
stream. Mr. Gay turned to Mr. Howell, and 
asked if he cared for the opportunity, when it 
was accepted at once most cheerfully, and Mr. 
Rowell commenced his business career in Cali- 
fornia within a half hour after his arrival, has 
continued it up to the present time, and is still 
employed. After the brig Belfast operation, 
at wages which nearly took his breath away, 
and board thrown in on the brig, tamhien, he 
found employment of various kinds until he 
entered the office of Gregory's Express Co., 
then Adams & Co's Express; then in the office 
of the company where he now is, and where he 
has so long and competently discharged his 
various official duties. 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 197 

The postage box in k Go's express- 
office ?ras never halanced. It couldn't be done. 
No one ever attempted it, because no one knew 
how to do it. It was the custom for clerk, 
messenger or driver, who wished to lunch, or 
"wet his whistle," to dip in the postage box. 
There was nothing secret or sly about it; it was 
customary, and no one thought it anything out 
of the ordinary course, and we merely mention 
it to illustrate the liberality and looseness of 
those days. In the Sacramento office of the 
company the same custom prevailed. 

One morning Charley King, the well known 

actor, came in and asked for Billy L , one 

of the clerks in the office, noted for his exten- 
sive wardrobe, and an ambition to rival Dick 
Stanly in fashionable attire. "Where is Billy?" 
inquired King. "He is out just at this mo- 
ment — anything that we can do for you?" re- 
plied one of the accommodating clerks — and, 
by the way, the clerks in the express and bank- 
ing houses were accommodating in those days. 

"I want to pay Billy L ten dollars which I 

borrowed from him last night," said King, tak- 
ing an eagle from his pocket, and standing with 
it between his fingers, as if he wished some one 

to say they would give it to his friend L . 

"I think he'll be in if you'll wait a moment," 



198 MEN AND MEMORIES 

said somebody. King seemed in haste, when 
" Blaize," who was behind the counter, said, 
with that irresistible humor of tone, peculiarly 
his own: "Oh, put it in the 'postage-box,' 
Charley! He'll find it there!" 

The express companies numbered six in early 
days. Adams & Go's express to "The United 
States" advertised to forward gold-dust and 
packages by every steamer. Their office was 
on Montgomery street, between California and 
Sacramento. 

Berford & Co's express, on Clay street — 
Plaza — advertised to forward packages to San 
Jos^ every day, Sunday excepted. 

Gregory's express — office on Jackson street 
wharf — advertised to forward gold-dust and 
packages to all parts of the world by every 
steamer; also to Sacramento and the northern 
mines daily. 

Haven & Co's express — office on Montgomery 
street, where the London and Liverpool and 
Globe Insurance Co's office since stood — also 
advertised to do the same. 

Hawley & Co's express office was on Mont- 
gomery, between Sacramento and California. 
They carried only to the interior California 
towns. 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 199 

Todd & Go's express, in the same block, car- 
ried to Stockton and the southern mines only. 

The business of k Go's exjDress office 

was so great — its ramifications so extended — 
that its president and directors were desirous 
to know its profits, its expenses and condition. 
Its chief and founder came out to ascertain. 
On the Galifornia steamer from New York, he 
was the recipient of such assiduous and obse- 
quious attention as might be offered to the 
President of the United States upon his travels. 
On the Panama railroad and on the Pacific 
steamers it was the same — one continued ova- 
tion until he reached the wharf in San Fran- 
cisco. Here the reception of the company's 
agents in Galifornia was so affectionate and 
overwhelming, that the worthy president, mod- 
est by nature, was helpless to resist the thought 
that he was at the head of a mighty power in 
the land. A gay barouche, drawn by four high- 
stepping steeds, awaited him, and, like a great 
conqueror making his triumphal entry, he rode 
to apartments worthy of a king. The dinner 
that awaited him opened wide his honest, prac- 
tical, old business eyes. The chef's artistic del- 
icacies in such profusion, the many and choice 
wines, the table equipage, and the attendants, 



200 MEN AND MEMORIES 

bewildered the unassuming and industrious head 
of the company. A business warranting such 
luxury and splendor was far above his wildest 
flight of fancy. 

One or two gentle expressions of surprise at 
the surroundings were received with the look 
of men not quite comprehending, or, perhaps, 
rather surprised at their honored guest' s remark 
upon an every-day matter, but too well bred to 
notice it. After an elaborate dessert, the guest 
hinted his wish to retire early, that he might 
be prepared for business in the morning, and 
was escorted to rest by his solicitous and hos- 
pitable hosts. 

Early the next morning — long before the 
agents or clerks came to their posts — the worthy 
president, neat, smooth-shaved, and dressed be- 
coming a business man, was pacing impatiently 
up and down the outer office. When the San 
Francisco managers appeared, they smilingly 
said, in answer to his proposition that they 
should proceed to business: "Not to-day! Oh, 
no, sir ; not to-day ! You require rest ; we can' t 
allow you to fatigue yourself just off this long, 
tedious trip ! " 

It was useless to remonstrate — to protest that 
the whole journey had been one long rest; that 
he never felt better in his life, and was per- 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 201 

fectly ready for business; that his time was 
limited, and he must be expeditious. He was 
told in the most blandly courteous manner, that 
he must not forget that he never could, with 
impunity, exert or fatigue, himself in this climate 
as at home ; that the statements were preparing, 
and would be ready in a few days ; but to-day 
a party had been made up to visit a certain 
place, in honor of himself, and they were about 
ready to start. What could he do? Nothing 
but acquiesce, then, and he went with his en- 
tertainers; but he resolved to go on no more 
pleasure parties until business was settled. His 
resolutions were of no avail. 

New excursions, wonderful sights, great nat- 
ural curiosities, must be visited; it would never 
do to return without having looked upon these 
world-wide wonders; expressed desires, remon- 
strances, expostulations, all were smiled away; 
they hurried him from place to place, in one 
continued whirl, received here and passed on 
there, with honors and attentions never ending. 
His methodical life up to this time was so broken 
in upon, his systematic habits so diverted, that 
his health was disturbed, and, like a prudent 
general, convinced of the futility of farther 
fighting, he wisely beat a retreat. His propo- 
sition to send out a trusty, plodding, old, confi- 



202 MEN AND MEMORIES 

deiitial clerk to arrange the business which his 
delightful round of continued pleasure and ever in- 
creasing knowledge of the country's wonder fid 
resources had caused him to neglect, was the only 
way by which he could cover his retreat with 
self-respect, and cheat himself into the belief 
that his crafty agents had not outwitted him. 
Soon as it was possible, after his return to his 
home on the Atlantic side, there came out to 
San Francisco a tall, grave, white-haired man, 
sedate and venerable, with full authority, etc. 
The agents and the old, confidential, white- 
haired emissary crossed their swords warily, 
fencing and parrying with utmost caution, until 
accident revealed, through a chink in the old 
man's armor, his weak spot — Schnapps. The 
crafty fencer touched with his keen rapier the 
vulnerable point; off fell the disguising armor, 
and the j oiliest old man conceivable stood re- 
vealed. The hospitable hosts gave unremitting 
attention. They whirled him faster than they 
had ever whirled his worthy chief. The old 
man laughed so incessantly that he could not 
give his mind to dry business details. He laugh- 
ingly proposed to leave for home, rode to the 
steamer, laughing, and laughed more than ever 
when he found his state-room lined with cases 
of his favorite schnapps, and sailed away still 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 203 

laughing. The managers hiughed — within their 
sleeves — when he had gone, and held high car- 
nival. But soon the inevitable crash came, and 
the insiders, heads of the house and clerks, 
laughed in their sleeves immoderately ; but the 
poor outsiders, save the bench and bar, felt like 
doing anything but laughing. 



204 MEN AND MEMORIES 



CHAPTER XXL 

Captain Charles L. Wiggin arrived in San 
Francisco on the schooner Uiidorus, September 
14th, 1849. The store subsequently occupied 
by C. C. Richmond, on Jackson, near the cor- 
ner of Montgomery, was part of the freight on 
board the Eudorus. 

Captain Wiggin first stepped on shore where 
Montgomery now crosses Jackson. Then it was 
a sea beach, the tide sometimes coming as high 
as the present northwest corner of Montgomery 
and Jackson. Captain W. was the first officer 
of the steamer Midas, when she doubled the 
Cape of Good Hope, and subsequently was her 
commander. 

The Midas was the first American steamer 
that ever doubled Good Hope or Cape Horn. 
She was a small propeller, built by Ericsson, 
and owned by R. B. Forbes, in whose emjDloy 
the subject of our sketch sailed, from 1835 to 
1849. Captain Wiggin was a boy on board one 
of Mr. Forbes' ships, in the harbor of Hong 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 205 

Kong, when the site of that now populous city- 
was occupied only by bamboo huts. 

The ship Oxnard, Captain Colo, arrived in San 
Francisco, November 22d, 1849, bringing twenty- 
five wooden houses, all numbered in sections, 
and fitted in Boston, for erection in San Fran- 
cisco. Charles R. Bond brought them out for 
Wm. D. M. Howard, who retained twelve of 
them, after selling twelve to Captain J. L. Fol- 
som, and one to Captain Cole. 

Three or four of them were erected on Mis- 
sion street, near Third, Messrs. Howard, Melius 
and Brannan occupying three of them. Cap- 
tain Folsom erected others on Mission, between 
First and Second streets; on Minna, Natoma, 
Tehama and Folsom streets. To Mrs. Van 
Winkle, Mrs. Cany and Mrs. Wakeman, whose 
husbands were all attached to his ofiice, Captain 
Folsom gave each a cottage, and, we believe, 
nearly all of the buildings stand to-day. The 
house in which Mr. Howard resided, prior to 
the Oxnard's arrival, was on the northeast cor- 
ner of Washington and Stockton streets. Some 
years ago it was moved to Bryant street, be- 
tween Second and Third, where it stands at the 
present writing. 

It is a fact worthy of record, that none of 



206 MEN AND MEMORIES 

these houses brought out on the Oxnard were 
ever burned. The first Orphan Asylum in San 
Francisco was opened in one of these houses, 
on the corner of Folsom and Second streets, on 
General Halleck's land. 

The house was contributed by Mr. Howard. 
The managers of the Asylum were Mrs. S. R. 
Throckmorton, Mrs. C. Y. Grillespie, and, we 
believe, Mrs. Henry Haight and Mrs. R. J. Yan- 
dewater. We are quite certain that some of 
these ladies have, through all the years since 
the little wooden cottage was given as a home 
to the fatherless, worked zealously for those 
'kittle ones." May the God of the widow and 
the fatherless bless them, and the memory of 
the late Abner Barker, who left twenty-five 
thousand dollars to that noble charity. 

Wm. D. M. Howard's office, at the time of the 
fire of June 14, 1850, was on the southeast cor- 
ner of Leidesdorff and Long "Wharf (now Com- 
mercial street), and in the same building with 
the P. M. S. S. Go's office. 

There was a high gate across the head of the 
wharf, from the corner of this building. Sub- 
sequent to the fire, Mr. Howard took the old 
adobe kitchen of the Hudson Bay Go's house, 
roofed it, and made it suitable for an office. 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 207 

until the erection of the brick building so long 
occupied in the lower story by Wm. H. Keith, 
apothecary. 

At the old office, in the adobe kitchen, and 
in the new one, and about its entrance, the old 
pioneers used to congregate. They were genial, 
hospitable men, with scarcely any exception; 
men whose word bound them entirely and 
sacredly. In 1849 a roundabout blue jacket 
and black pants in cool weather; in warm days, 
white was the costume. Even into 1850, some 
wore the old California style of dress. Mr. 
Yioget always did, and we believe we have seen 
others wearing the old style Californian cos- 
tume as late as the summer of 1850; but the 
fashions prevailing among the people drawn to 
San Francisco by the gold discovery, were 
adopted by all at last, save Mr. Yioget, whom 
we never saw dressed in them. 

In the delicious January days of California, 
when the warm sun kisses the earth into new 
life and smiling brightness, and nature seems 
kinder to mankind than elsewhere, we always 
recall just such a time, when we saw a group of 
the early pioneers standing before the office of 
"Wm, D. M. Howard, the kindest and noblest of 
them all. There was Captain Cooper, Jacob P. 
Leese, Mr. Yioget, Thomas 0. Larkin, Henry 



208 MEN AND MEMORIES 

Tescliemacher, Alfred Robinson, Don Juan Fos- 
ter, Don Abel Stearns, Dr. Denn, Don Juan 
Thompson, Richardson, Robert A. Par- 
ker and several others. 

Henry Teschemacher was then, always has 
been, and is to-day, the soul of honor, courage 
and modesty ; perfectly unassuming, proverbially 
courteous, extremely reticent as to himself, but 
never to be moved an inch, or ignored for an 
instant, when acting for his friends. In 184- a 
difficulty occurred between Lieut. Bonnycastle 
and Henry Melius. Mr. Melius received a chal- 
lenge; but Mr. Teschemacher insisted upon 
assuming the responsibility of the affair, upon 
the grounds that Mr. Melius, being just married, 
ought not to jeopard his life, and could not be 
so well spared as his bachelor friend. 

Mr. Teschemacher and Lieut. Bonnycastle 
fought with rifles ; the former escaping unhurt, 
shooting off a finger from the hand of his an- 
tagonist. Mr. Teschemacher won the choice of 
weapons, and selected his antagonist' s favorite 
rifle ; otherwise the result might have been dif- 
ferent. Mr. Teschemacher never sought office; 
but the citizens of San Francisco thrice elected 
him to the office of Mayor by a most flattering 
majority, notwithstanding his earnest efforts to 
escape the honor. 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 209 

William D. M. Howard was a man to draw 
other men around liim, not by self-assertion, by 
promises, or studied, conventional courteous- 
ness, but b}^ the magnetism of his genuine, 
heartfelt cordialit3^ His fellow men intuitively 
recognized his nature, and liked to be with one 
of whom they felt so sure, in whom they fully 
trusted, without hesitation. 

The native Californians ever found him a 
good adviser and true friend ; and all who came 
to him, seeking their fortunes on these shores, 
were most generously befriended. If "he who 
giveth to the poor, lendeth to the Lord," Mr. 
Howard resigned earthly wealth for far greater 
treasure in Heaven. 

Not all the pioneers were men of honor. 
There are exceptions to prove every rule, al- 
though it seems odd to find its application 
among the men who came to California as real 
pioneers, before the excited rush for gold. 
People of later days ask, "How is it that the 
old pioneers were such exceptional men? Was 
it not the fact that they were like any other 
men, only, being few in numbers and living 
under similar circumstances, peculiarly peaceful 
and contented, the strifes and contentions of 
politics and litigation were unknown, and their 
undisturbed friendship, so long continued, is 
14 



210 MEN AND MEMORIES 

now, in memory, surrounded by a halo, placing 
them apart from other men?" To which we 
reply, that undoubtedly those very circum- 
stances strongly cemented the ties then formed ; 
yet they were men, by nature, of broader minds, 
and possessed of a foresight unusual in most 
men, freer in thought and habit — the very attri- 
butes belonging to pioneers, through which 
Nature herself set them apart from other men, 
constituting them the vanguard of the long, 
trans-continental march of emigration's endless 
army. 

In 1847, J. J. Yioget made the first survey 
of San Francisco, or Yerba Buena, and laid 
out the plan for its streets. Had his design 
been carried into effect, it would, as a sanitary 
proposition, have been much better for the city's 
inhabitants. Every house would have had an 
equal share of the sun upon its front and rear 
during the day. Political scheming, that bane 
of republics, changed the plan to give one of its 
party favorites a job, causing, in this particular 
instance, injury to the health of thousands. 
Vioget' s wisdom and experience sought to ob- 
viate and prevent this harmful condition of 
things, for he knew the value of the sun's light 
and heat in San Francisco, where he had lived 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 211 

miicli of the time since 1837, and noted the 
isothermal needs. M. Yioget was Swiss, of 
French descent, like the great Agassiz, who, 
when speaking, always reminds us of Vioget, so 
modest, earnest and fascinating in conversation, 
always imparting some new and useful knowl- 
edge; eager as a child to gain a scrap of 
information; and, withal, a wonderful way of 
drawing from you, by no effort of your own, 
better things than you imagined yourself capa- 
ble of sa3dng — the most intoxicating of all flat- 
teries. Yioget resided on Kearny street, west 
side, adjoining the old City Hotel, which formed 
the southwest corner of Clay and Kearny. In 
stature he was about five feet eight and a half 
inches, and possessed of a good average avoirdu- 
pois. He carried his head a little inclined, like 
one listening; his hair was short, plentiful and 
very gray; he wore a full, gray "old guard" 
moustache ; and up to the last day that we saw 
him, he wore the old Californian costume — the 
short blue jacket and black pants. Few, 
to-day, save the old residents, seem to remem- 
ber him, so reticent was his nature. We 
do not even find his name in Kimball's San 
Francisco Directory of 1850. But we should 
be happy to think that these pages might be 
the means of reminding the victims of malarious 



212 MEN AND MEMORIES 

ills, of rheumatism, and chills and fever, that 
the subject of this sketch labored for their good 
a quarter of a century ago, though thwarted by 
that hydra — politics. 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 213 



CHAPTER XXII. 

There was a real, old English strolling pan- 
pipe player in San Francisco during the days of 
which we write — a fellow who reminded us of 
the summer afternoon when Little Nell and the 
old man came upon Short and Codlin, sitting 
among the grave-stones of the old church-yard, 
repairing their fautoccini. Our pioneer pan- 
piper (we believe he was eligible to the associa- 
tion), played upon the cymbals, triangle, accor- 
deon and bass-drum — a genuine itinerant of the 
"Merrie Englande" fair and race grounds. He 
came from Sydney to this city, and was a char- 
acter — a stud}^ He wore the narrow-brimmed, 
very high-crowned hat, found only upon the 
heads of H. B. M. subjects — just the pattern in 
everything, save color, of the pioneer candy 
man' s (also eligible) hat, on Montgomery street, 
— his hat being a rusty black, the pan-piper's a 
light brown. His shirt-collar and cravat were 
very elaborate, and the fashion of his coat and 
nether garments dignified and recondite. The 



214 MEN AND MEMORIES 

expression of his face, as he jerked his head 
right and left, in the execution of an allegro vi- 
vace movement, with octave intervals, was truly 
indescribable. As his mouth traveled along the 
edge of the pipes, the action of the levator labii 
proprius and risible muscles, gave a hearty, en- 
joyable grin along the facial angle, contrasting 
ludicrously with the lachrymose appearance of 
his eyes, from the elevation of the inner extrem- 
ity of the eyebrows, the sensitive movement of 
the occvpito frontalis, and the despondent droop 
of the eyelid, like one who had blown upon 
dying embers until the dizzy brain ached with 
the exertion. His face recalled Pliny's words: 

" Frons hominis tristitice, hilaritatis, clemeutise, severitatis, index 
est." 

One could not repress a smile, on giving him 
the most casual glance; but to stop one's ears, 
and watch his appearance for a moment, taking 
in its mingled absurdity and serious work-a-day 
earnestness, through the single sense of sight, 
was enough to convulse with laughter the most 
lugubrious of men. This disciple of the shep- 
herd's deity worked hard upon his pipes and 
drum, earning well the harvest that he gath- 
ered. Some time in the early part of '52 he 
disappeared — we suppose went to Australia, or 
some secluded village in old England, where he 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 215 

dreams away the evening of his life, discarding 
pipe of Pan for pipe nicotian. We can never 
forget him, nor the amusement he afforded us, 
being at that time fresh from the study of " The 
Anatomy and Philosophy of Expression, as con- 
nected with the fine arts," by Sir Charles Bell, 
K. H. 

One of our San Francisco aristocracy was for- 
merly a crockery and earthenware dealer, on the 
Atlantic side of the continent, but did not per- 
sue his old trade in California, making more 
money in various ways, from hotel keeping to 
real estate speculating, etc. After accumu- 
lating a fortune, he, of course, followed the old, 
stereotyped path — went to some other country 
to spend it. Meeting a congenial spirit in Eu- 
rope, they traveled the grand tour together, each 
playing the rentier, the grand proprietaire, en- 
tirely ignoring any knowledge of business, of 
any nature whatsoever. The}^ were together in 
Paris, on the Rhine, in Dresden, Berlin, Vienna, 
Venice, Florence, Rome, and finally came to 
Herculaneum and Pompeii, where they were lost 
in the wonders of the long buried past. 

One day, as they were examining some curi- 
ous specimens of ancient pottery — bowls, cups, 
dishes and recondite platters, in one of the un- 



216 MEN AND MEMORIES 

earthed palaces of Pompeii, our California ren- 
tier became genuinely interested in a singularly 
delicate thin bowl of very hard, bell-like mate- 
rial, that vibrated with a gentle ring in handling. 
Turning it carefully over, he scrutinized it in- 
wardly, outwardly and at its edge ; held it up 
to the light, with every look and movement de- 
noting the expert, but all unconscious of the 
watchful eyes of his companion. Suddenly, 
after a long inspection, he tossed the bowl 
with his right hand, caught it on the extended 
finger-tips of his left, held it in silent poise, 
like a prestidigitateur, giving it a quick tap 
with the middle finger knuckle of the other 
hand. At the clear bell-like ring, his face 
glowed with the undisguised satisfaction of an 
approving virtuoso in Chinaware and crockery. 
" No! you don't say so? I used to be in that 
line too." "Eh, what did you say?" asked the 
California rentier^ suddenly roused from his pre- 
occupation, and turning a dismayed face to his 
companion. "What line? Don't understand 
you!" "Oh, bosh!" said the other, "I have 
been too many years in the business not to know 
you by the way you handled that bowl just 
now. We' 11 understand each other all the better 
now." "I don't understand you at all, sir," 
said the silly Californian, whose vanity was so 



OF EAELY SAN FRANCISCO. 217 

wounded that he actually turned his back upon 
his good-natured companion, and never resumed 
the acquaintance. 

There was a Mr. Baker — we believe his name 
was William Baker — who, we think, was one of 
the firm of S. H. Williams & Co., or a clerk in 
that house in the spring of ' 50. We remember 
Mr. Baker as being the most carefully and neatly 
dressed man in San Francisco at that time ; not 
that there were not other men as well dressed 
in material, as nisat and punctiliously clean, but 
people, as a general thing in those days, wore 
gray or brown, or blue, or drab, and spotted or 
striped shirts of fancy colors. This Mr. Baker 
always wore a full suit of black, and spotless 
linen ; his hat, only, was an approach to color, 
being a soft, broad-brimmed, low, round- 
crowned beaver, of a brownish, raw umber 
-shade. We used to marvel at Mr. Baker's in- 
variably neat, spotless attire, and wonder how 
he preserved his wardrobe, amid the never- 
ceasing clouds of dust that were ever floating 
in the air through our unpaved streets. He 
never seemed in the least ruffled or annoyed by 
the trampling mule teams and their following 
clouds. He walked along as if on the clean 
swept walks of Philadelphia, Boston, or the 



218 MEN AND MEMORIES 

Boulevards of Paris, his faultless shirt and col- 
lar, his ample wristbands, his Poole-like coat, 
vest and pants, his patent-leather boots, facing 
the flying, powdery nuisance more bravely than 
any flannel shirt and duck trousers in the whole 
town. His utter obliviousness to dust, and his 
unvarying suit of new black broadcloth, was 
ever a mystery to us, and we believed in the 
spring of ' 50, and still believe, that he had three 
hundred and sixty-five new black suits, with 
linen and patent-leathers to match. 

Malachi Fallon was City Marshal in the spring 
of '50. He was a good officer and an honest 
man. In '51 Mr. Fallon opened the Kip Yan 
Winkle House, on the corner of Pacific Wharf 
and Battery street. Subsequently he purchased 
of Messrs. B. V. Joice and Daniel Lockwood the 
Knickerbocker House, on the corner of Long 
Wharf and Battery street. Mr. Fallon is at the 
present time living in Oakland, and is to all ap- 
pearance in health and vigor. We hope he 
may live and enjoy another score of years. 
When Wells, Fargo & Co. opened in '52 at 
114 Montgomery street, next door south of 
Barry & Patten's, Mr. Joseph Fallon (brother of 
Malachi), John Bell and Mr. Birdsall were the 
only employees of that express company. The 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 219 

office is still next door to Barry & Patten's, but 
on the opposite side of the street, John Bell 
and Birdsall are still in the office, and Mr, Fal- 
lon, we believe, is in Honolulu, 

Mr. Daniel Lockwood died in Newark, N. J., 
several years since, 

Mr. Joice, is and has been for many years, a 
notary, and bids fair to live a half century 
longer, if one may judge by his stejD and man- 
ner on California street; and better still, by 
the ground he will get over, and the steep hill- 
sides he can climb, in a day' s shooting, eoming 
in full of spirit and fun, when some of the boys 
are lame and disagreeably quiet. We hope he 
may bag his game for many years to come, for 
we do certainly like good-natured men. 

Swift & Brother, James and S. C. Swift, were 
general merchants on Sacramento street, between 
Montgomery and Kearny, in the spring of '50, 
John B, Bourne, a brother-in-law of one of 
the firm, was employed with them. The fire of 
June 14th, '50, burned them out. Mr. Bourne 
went on a voyage of speculation to Callao in 
the following October, returned in the spring 
of '51, and rented one of a block of stores on 
Long Wharf, adjoining the storeship Apollo. 
Mr, Bourne hired this store of Mr. Chase, a 
carpenter, who built and owned the block. 



\ 

220 MEN AND MEMORIES 

Saturday evening Mr. Chase called in for his 
rent — rents were payable in advance — which 
Mr. Bourne paid — $1400 per month. This was 
about sunset, and before midnight his store, as 
well as his rent money, had disappeared. Mr. 
Bourne seems jast as well able to-day to bear 
misfortune as he was twenty years ago. 

John A. McGlynn was City Recorder, and his 
office was in the City Hall in '50. Dan. C. 
McGlynn was a dealer in paints and oils on 
Sacraitiento street, near Montgomery. Their 
homes and their interests have been with us 
ever since that time, and they are worthy citi- 
zens. 

Bailey & Hooper were merchants on the cor- 
ner of Montgomery and Pacific in 1850. We 
think Mr. Bailey was afterwards of the firm of 
Edwards, Bailey & Co. Mr. B. was an unselfish, 
benevolent man, and lost his life by an act of 
courtesy to a lady, who was one of a party com- 
ing down the Sacramento river to San Francisco. 
When the steamer came to the bay, the sudden 
change of atmosphere caused the lady to ex- 
press her fear of taking cold, if she remained on 
deck. Mr. Bailey immediately removed his 
cloak and wrapped it about the form of his fair 



OP EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 221 

companion, but this act of gallantry cost liim 
his life, as he then contracted a cold from which 
he never recovered. 

John H. Saunders arrived in San Francisco 
on the twentieth of June, 1850, on the steamer 
Tennessee. S. R. Throckmorton, Lieut. Beale 
(subsequently Surveyor-General of California), 
Messrs. Berri and May (of Davidson & Co.), 
James L. King, Leonard Skinner, Chetwood & 
Edwards, and many others well known, were on 
the same steamer. Mr. Saunders has since been 
City Attorney for San Francisco, and State Sen- 
ator from San Francisco. He is a virtuoso, a 
skillful amateur musician, and a generous, honor- 
able man. 

Thomas G-. Cary was with Macondray & Co. 
in 1850, and subsequently was one of the firm. 
Mr. Cary was a merchant, a scholar, a student, 
an ichthyologist; an accomplished master in 
self-defense, a gentleman, and a rare good fellow. 
He left California about ten years since, and 
has been very busily occupied nearly all that 
time in the museum of zoology at Harvard Col- 
lege, Cambridge, Mass. 

I. Friedlander was a busy man in San Fran- 
cisco in 1850, and has been ever since. He is 
a Field Marshal in California's army of specu- 
lators — marshals his forces, and moves with 



222 MEN AND MEMORIES 

mighty results. He has brains and sagacit}'-, 
generosity, honor and gratitude, and never for- 
gets a favor from high or low; but any unfair- 
ness toward Mr. Friedlander has not been found 
remunerative. 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 223 



CHAPTER XXIII. 

The road or track to the Presidio, twenty- 
years ago, was not as comfortable for a drive as 
at the present day. Xo level way for vehicles 
along the hard, steep-sloping hill, corrugated 
with rain-washed ruts and ugly guUeys. It was 
a most uninviting ride for those in the saddle ; 
but to drive in a vehicle across that old Pre- 
sidio road, was neither safe nor pleasant. There 
were many ways of scaling the hill — we mean 
to say pathways to the hill — but the most trav- 
eled was the one off Powell street, near Wash- 
ington Square. The hard adobe soil in summer 
was like stone, and in the rainy season gummy, 
sticky and disagreeable. The steep, shelving, 
uneven way, making the carriage perpetually 
seem as if it were just toppling over, or sliding 
down the precipitous hill, was very trying to 
the nerves of those penned in upon the back 
seat; and when we remember that old, uneven, 
rutted, gulley-worn road, we wonder how 
we ever had the courage to travel it in any 



224 MEN AND MEMORIES 

way, other than in the saddle. Like all prim 
itive roads, it wound up over the highest, 
most toilsome way, past cattle-pens and corrals, 
brick-yards and'butcher's shambles, the ground 
all the way looking as baked and hard as slag 
or adamant, with no sign of vegetation, but 
everywhere a surface, seemingly blown bare by 
the continuous winds of summer. After the 
rains, 'twas difficult to believe in such a change. 
The tender emerald grass and dotting wild 
flowers, the soft, soothing air, winning us to 
forgetfulness of the harsh summer gales, parch- 
ing the skin, fretting the eyes, and spoiling the 
hair and temper. In the dry, dusty season, it 
was pleasant to come upon the little grove of 
trees where Leonidas Haskell's house stood, 
and where he afterwards built three cottages, 
one of which was occupied by John C. Fre- 
mont. Trees were very grateful to the ej^es of 
San Franciscans in those days, when homes and 
gardens and shrubbery were not yet planted, 
and hearts were not rooted to the country, en- 
twined with the old associations and affections 
belonging with "home" in every clime. 

When we had passed Mr. Haskell' s house, 
we were descending the western slope of the 
hill, and turned southward a little way; then 
down again westwardly to the little lane, past 



OF EARLY SAN FEANCISCO. 225 

the brick yard to the little grocery, making the 
corner of the block where the French gardeners 
cultivated their vegetables for the city markets. 
The Sutter street railroad uses this same road 
now for their Harbor Yiew track. In those 
days, the road abruptly descended to a little 
hollow, which was impassable often in the rainy 
season, obliging the traveler to skirt the high 
bank on the north side, at the edge of the gar- 
den on the other side, kept by another citizen 
of La Belle France. Beyond this little hollow, 
was another very abrupt little rise, which 
brought you to the road leading to the '* La- 
guna," or Washerwoman's Bay, where Ansel I. 
Easton's laundry was busy at work upon the 
P. M. S. S. Go's linen — a never-ending labor in 
those days of Panama travel. Mr. James Laid- 
ley has built a residence on this spot, and has 
changed the appearance of things beyond recog- 
nition. Farther on were cow-sheds and barns, 
and milk-ranches, a little wayside inn, where 
soldiers, with a day' s liberty from the Presidio 
barracks, might come and enjoy lager and lib- 
erty combined. A few cottages were beside the 
road, at intervals, until the Government Reserve 
was reached, and the Presidio, which was then 
a few dilapidated, old adobes, some long, shed- 
like barracks, and a cottage or two for the 
15 



226 MEN AND MEMORIES 

officers' quarters — no more like the Presidio of 
to-day than the fort at Fort Point now is like 
the one built by the old Spaniards, Leaving 
out the question of utility, the old fort was far 
more picturesque and charming to visit than the 
red brick, angular, menacing pile of defense 
now usurping its place. We must confess to 
the belief that the old Spanish fort would have 
made a short and sorry fight, as compared with • 
its mighty successor. Still, we shall always re- 
member the old one, and our visits to it, with a 
pleasurable feeling, which never could be awak- 
ened by any amount of intimacy with the fort 
of to-day. 

There was such an air of romance about the 
old, gray, crumbling walls and moldering ram- 
parts; such a mute significance upon the face 
of everything within those silent walls, upon 
the cliff that overhung the foamy beach. The 
decaying gun-carriage, with wheels half buried 
in the weeds and grass; the rusty, old, iron 
ring we stooped to lift, and found it fast in 
the old plank scuttle; some hidden cell, or 
water-tank, provided for a siege. The weather- 
worn embrasures, that scores of years ago framed 
in the faces of seaward-gazing sentry, and com- 
mandante, grave and thoughtful — now, but the 
basking-place where sea-birds rest awhile, blink- 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 227 

ing in the warm sunlight, and gathering fresh 
strength, again sail out upon the winds, and 
scream above the sea, whose monotone beating 
its cadence on the rocky shore had, years ago, 
sung the old fort to everlasting rest. 

This was the end of the Presidio road. Horse- 
men often went on over the hill beyond the fort 
to Point Lobos, and to the cliff, where now the 
Cliff House stands, and halted to watch the pla- 
tyrhynchus of Cuvier, now popularly known as 
Captain Foster' s sea lions. The man of to-day, 
lounging luxuriantly in a cane chair upon the 
broad, sheltering balcony, leisurely watching 
through a good glass the clumsy gambols of 
Captain Foster' s stock, with the best of viands, 
wines and fragrant weeds at his command, has 
the advantage of him who, in the saddle or on 
foot, breasted the winds and dust over the heavy 
path, with its ending on the open cliff — shelter- 
less and supperless. Some went on by the 
beach to the old Ocean House, and in to the 
Mission by the hill where the Industrial School 
now stands. Some by another way, between 
Lone Mountain and the other hills, where, near 
a little lake, stood a small wayside house, whose 
occupant dispensed milk-punch, refreshing, rich 
and cool. This way led to the Mission (nearer 
than by the beach) across the open, primitive 



228 MEN AND MEMORIES 

and unfenced country, upon whose broad-spread- 
ing acres most of the thoughtless riders looked, 
as upon so much dirt; while a few, with saga- 
cious foresight, seized the opportunity, making 
for themselves great fortunes. 

The Russ family came to California on the 
ship Loo CJioo^ with Stevenson's Regiment, and 
were, altogether, we believe — father, mother, 
sons and daughters — twelve in number. The 
old house at the corner of Sixth and Harrison 
streets, on the block known as Russ' Garden, 
was standing a year or two since. J. C. C. k 
A. Gr. Russ, goldsmiths and jewelers, lived there 
in 1850, and had their store on Montgomery, 
between Pacific and Broadway. 

Russ' Garden was a famous suburban resort 
twenty years ago for the German citizens' May- 
day festivities, Sunday-school picnics and mis- 
cellaneous merry-makings. The garden was a 
little, dry knoll in the middle of a swamp, and 
the rider who came along the narrow road built 
from Folsom street to the garden, mired his 
horse if he deviated in the least from the track. 
As late as ' 55^ we have seen horses and cows 
swamped on both sides of the Folsom street 
plank-road, and on the east side of the road 
leading to the garden. To-day it would be 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 229 

difficult to see any traces of the old neigh- 
borhood; all seems alike south of Market street. 
The Russ family had a house on Bush street, 
just above where the Russ House stands. A 
large, three-story, wooden hotel used to occupy 
part of the ground on Montgomery street now 
covered by the Russ. 

Mr. Otto Kloppenburg, formerly City Treas- 
urer, kept a grocery store on the Russ House 
corner of Bush and Montgomery. Peyser Bros, 
kept a clothing store on this block for twenty 
years or more, and took the corner of Bush 
street when the Russ House was built. There 
they remained until within a few months, when 
they sold out their lease to Mr. Raphael, who 
carries on the same business. The Russ family 
have always been good citizens, and deserve the 
fortune which has come to them by the appre- 
ciation of the land they had the prudent fore- 
sight to secure and improve. 

Gladwin & Whitmore were merchants on 
California street, between Montgomery and San- 
some. Horace M. Whitmore, of this firm, was 
always an enthusiastic Californian, a firm be- 
liever in his adopted State' s eventual perma- 
nence, commercially and agriculturally, in its 
climatic advantages, and their certain influence 
in its future population. It was through Mr. 



230 MEN AND MEMORIES 

Whitmore's persistent labors, with the invalu- 
able aid of Professor Davidson, of the United 
States Coast Survey, that the Limantour Fraud 
was detected and thwarted. Others have claimed 
the credit of that exposure, but the merit be- 
longs where we have placed it. Mr. Whitmore 
was the first to agitate the widening of Kearny 
street, and followed up the enterprise with that 
tenacious, patient industry of purpose in a good 
cause, which was ever the business of his life. 
Few men in San Francisco had made so much 
happiness for so many people, by genuine, unos- 
tentatious kindness and charity, as Horace M. 
Whitmore. In 1849, Mr. Whitmore purchased 
the house built by Rodman M. Price, on Cali- 
fornia street, below Dupont, where he lived 
until the time of his death, two years since. 
Mr. Whitmore never was away from the State 
after his arrival, in 1849. He left a large estate, 
in which is the block known as Trainor' s Row, 
on Kearny, corner of Sutter street. 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 231 



CHAPTER XXiy. 

The three-story wooden house on Dupont 
street, just south of the Congregational Church, 
on the southwest corner of California and Du- 
pont, and occupied so many years by Mr. Tal- 
lant, the banker, was bought from the cargo of 
a wrecked ship, by General Cazneau, in the 
spring of 1850. Mr. Joseph Capprise, of Bal- 
timore, superintended its erection. This house 
was fitted and prepared for building in the East, 
and shipped for California. 

On the fourth of July, ' 50, this house was 
gaily decorated with flags of all nations — a 
novel proceeding in San Francisco, exciting 
much attention. Among the floating bunting 
was the green banner and its golden harp, which 
gave rise to the rumor that it was the residence 
of the Irish Consul. The old house, which 
stood so many years high up on the embank- 
ment, is now lowered to the street level, and 
changed past recognition. 

General Thomas N. Cazneau, Hon. H. H. 



232 MEN AND MEMORIES 

Byrne and Mr. Joseph Capprise came to Cali- 
fornia on the same ship. The General looks no 
older than on the day of his arrival; but his 
two companions are sleeping in the necropolis, 
for whose inhabitants the sea sings everlast- 
ingly a mournful threnody. 

The house of which we have elsewhere 
spoken, as erected by Judge Burritt, on the 
northwest corner of Stockton and Sutter streets, 
in 1851, was made and fitted for building, and 
shipped in Boston for San Francisco. Its twin 
was erected in Benicia by General Frisbie, and 
is at present, we believe, occupied by Captain 
Walsh. We have a vindictive feeling for the 
rascal who tried a few months since to burn the 
old house in San Francisco, which has long been 
a pleasant sight to the citizen who knew only 
its comfortable, home-like, Elizabethan exterior 
through so many long years, that it had become 
like the kind face of an old acquaintance. But 
those who were more fortunate, and knew the 
welcome of its interior in Lucien Hermann's and 
Dr. Bowie' s time, can never forget the genuine 
hospitality, nor the fascinating conversational 
power of their courteous hosts. 

John S. Ellis had a shipping ofiice in San 
Francisco, in 1850. We think the firm was Ellis 



OF EAELY SAN FRANCISCO. 233 

& Goin — Thomas Goin; and that they had one 
office on Central Wharf, near Montgomery street, 
and another at Clark' s Point. Mr. Ellis has since 
filled the office of Sheriff for San Francisco. He 
has resided in New York at various times, but 
his time in that city has always been occupied 
in advancing the interests of California' s vini- 
cultural products. 

Writing of Mr. Ellis' shipping office, reminds 
us of George W. Virgin, the shipping master, 
whose office was robbed by the Sydney thief, 
Jenkins, who was caught in the act, and hung. 
Mr. Virgin went from San Francisco to Siam, 
and became an Admiral in the Siamese Royal 
Navy, and a prime favorite with the Emperor, 
from whom he received distinguished consider- 
ation until his death. His Majesty made his 
favorite Admiral's obsequies a most imposing 
pageant. 

Theodore C. Sanborn was of the firm of Gas- 
sett & Sanborn, on Jackson street wharf in 
'50. They were commission merchants, and 
lost largely in a great rice speculation. Many 
years afterward, we think in the Washoe ex- 
citement of '62-63, Mr. Sanborn was fortunate, 
and paid thousands of dollars to his old credit- 
ors, notwithstanding time had released him 



234 MEN AND MEMORIES 

from all legal responsibility. This we know, 
and record the fact with genuine pleasure. 

Finley, Johnson k Co. were on the corner of 
Washington and Montgomery streets. J. W. 
Austin was of this firm. 

Annan, Lord & Co. were at No. 275 Mont- 
gomery street. 

L. W. Sloat, son of Commodore Sloat, was 
proprietor of the Merchants' Exchange, on the 
corner of Washington and Montgomery streets. 
Mr. Sloat was a conchologist, and had in his 
rooms a rare collection of shells. 

Hiram B. Sherman was also on the corner of 
Montgomery and Washington. 

Burgoyne & Co., bankers, were on the south- 
west corner of Washington and Montgomery. 
John Y. Plume was a partner in this banking 
house. We are pleased to see Mr. Plume again 
in our streets, after so many years' absence. 

Mazera N. Medina had an office on Mont- 
gomery, a little north of Washington street; 
and Medina, Hartog & Co. were on Washington, 
above Montgomery. 

Middleton & Hood were auction and commis- 
sion merchants, at 269 Montgomery street. The 
head of this firm was Mr. John Middleton, who 
is just as cool and self-controlled to-day as he 
was twenty-three years ago— moves, acts, speaks, 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 235 

and seems the same. We sincerely hope that 
another score of years may find him as he is 
to-day. Two doors from the store of Middle- 
ton k Hood, Harry Meiggs had his office, and 
we, with many others, believe San Francisco 
would have been none the loser were his office 
there to-day. 

P. A. Morse, counselor-at-law, had his office 
on the corner of Washington and Montgomery. 
John Nugent' s office was on Montgomery, be- 
tween Washington and Clay. 

Conroy & O'Connor were on Montgomery, 
north of Washington. John Rainey's store was 
on Montgomery, north of Washington. 

James Dows & Co. were on, or next door to, 
the corner of Washington and Montgomery ; 
and we seem to remember Mr. Phelps as a sales- 
man for Dows & Co. — T. G-. Phelps, who has 
since been Congressman for California, and Col- 
lector for the Port of San Francisco. 

Beebe & Co. (S. Ludlow) were bankers on 
Montgomery, between Washington and Clay, in 
'50; and C. Marriott was a real estate broker 
close by. Edward S. Spear was a broker at 
271 Montgomery street. Henry M. Naglee, 
since Gen. Naglee, was a banker on the corner 
of Merchant and Montgomery. Henry M. Naglee 
came to California as a Captain in Stevenson' s 



236 MEN AND MEMORIES 

Regiment, Manrow & Co. (W. N. Meeks) were 
on Montgomery, near Washington. There are 
many men who were then in active business in 
San Francisco, whom we remember, and might 
mention ; but we must not subside into a San 
Francisco Directory for the spring of ' 50. 

Henry Meiggs was one of the most enter- 
prising, generous and intelligent men who ever 
came to San Francisco, and his departure was 
one of the greatest losses that ever occurred to 
the city, in the taking of one individual from 
its population. The unfortunate complication 
and overwhelming liabilities which drove him 
from us, was a greater calamity to the prosperity 
of San Francisco than a conflagration or a flood. 
For him, personally, in a financial view, it was 
a great movement, and the tide which bore him 
through the "Golden Gate" "led on to for- 
tune." Now, he is the Rothschild of Peru — 
the man to whom the Government applies in 
time of need, and not in vain ; nor yet did any 
one ever personally apply to him for aid, or for 
the settlement of any just debt, without satisfaction. 
The tribute paid to Mr. Meiggs by the late Hon. 
Edward Tompkins, in a letter published in the 
San Francisco JVews Letter^ was the reward 
from one good man to another. Every just 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 237 

claim presented to Mr. Meiggs has been liqui- 
dated; and the accusations made by some in 
authority against that gentleman after his de- 
parture, were utterly without foundation, but 
were of great convenience, just then, to some 
whom we all know to be honorable men. 

Music, art, charity and society met with a 
great loss in the absence of Mr. Meiggs. The 
Music Hall, which stood where the Occidental 
Hotel now stands, was built by that gentleman. 
Mr. Leach, Mr. Beutler, Geo. Loder, Mrs. Wells, 
Miss Leach, Mr. Zander, and many other celeb- 
rities, came to California by the influence of 
Mr. Meiggs. The organ in Trinity Church was 
the gift of that gentleman. We believe no man 
ever went away from among us more sincerely 
regretted, and if he were to return, we are sure 
that his reception would be an ovation. 

The wharf at North Beach, stretching so far 
into the harbor, was built by Mr. Meiggs, and 
is as much a feature of the city as the Plaza, or 
Montgomery street. 

It was no inconsiderable undertaking in the 
early days to build such a pier; and now it is 
suggestive of what the builder might accomplish 
in our city, with to-day' s facilities. Mr. Meiggs' 
departure from this city was an unfortunate 
mistake on his part, and still more unfortunate 



238 MEN AND MEMORIES 

for the welfare of San Francisco. Had he re- 
mained with us, the false accusations which, 
by reason of his absence, certain people 
found it convenient to lay at his door, would 
have been traced then, as they since have been, 
to their proper source; and he would have long 
ago outlived his financial troubles, and won the 
confidence and esteem which his subsequently 
honorable career gives him in the minds of all 
just Californians. In South America, the mu- 
nificence of his charities, and the grandeur of 
his operations in business, have made his name 
a proverb. 



OF EAELY SAN FRANCISCO. 239 



CHAPTER XXV. 

In June, 1851, the citizens of San Francisco, 
who had long been smothering their indigna- 
tion at the condition of things, superinduced 
by the lax administration of justice to crimi- 
nals, were aroused to terrible action by the 
detection of a burglar in the very act of carry- 
ing off a portable safe, which he had just stolen 
from an office on Long Wharf. The property 
belonged to George W. Virgin, who had a ship- 
ping office, through the floor of which the bur- 
glar cut an entrance, took the safe — merely a 
big iron box — into his boat beneath the build- 
ing, and pulled out into the bay. He was fol- 
lowed by several boats, containing men who 
had overheard him at his work, and when nearly 
overhauled, threw his booty overboard. Some 
of his pursuers hove to, and succeeded in grap- 
pling the sunken treasure and safely landing it, 
when it was identified. The other boats fol- 
lowed, and arrested the burglar after a short, 
desperate fight. He was taken to the rooms of 



240 MEN AND MEMORIES 

the Yigilaiice Committee, and proved to be a 
Sydney thief named Jenkins, a low, brutal, 
foul-mouthed villain, of herculean frame, with 
thick, coarse red hair and beard. He was imme- 
diately tried, and convicted on indisputable 
testimony. He had been heard at his work, 
standing in his boat, cutting through the floor 
into the building; seen putting the safe into 
the boat; followed by men who never for a mo- 
ment lost sight of him; observed to throw 
overboard the stolen property, which was sub- 
sequently raised and recognized; and finally 
captured. 

All of this occurred early in the evening, 
and by the time the trial was finished and 
the sentence passed, it was midnight. The bell 
upon the engine house tolled out upon the 
quiet night — the preconcerted signal. Soon, a 
thousand men, ready and armed for action, had 
assembled. The doomed man, with pinioned 
arms, was marched out, along Sansome, Cali- 
fornia, Montgomery and Clay streets, to the 
Plaza. A proposition by some thoughtless per- 
son, to hang the condemned upon the flag-staff, 
was scorned as sacrilege, and the crowd moved 
on to the old adobe, which stood on the north- 
western corner of the Plaza. Over a beam of 
the veranda, on the building's southern end, 



OF EAELY SAN FRANCISCO. 241 

the rope was thrown — its other end already 
round the prisoner' s neck, and when all was 
ready, the silent but determined crowd dragged 
him along the ground and off his feet, up to the 
beam. They held his body hanging there for 
hours, relays of men, relieving others, quiet and 
orderly, speaking in whispers. 

There is something indescribably awful, and 
ominously thrilling, about a silent crowd of men 
in the darkness of night. Loud words of jest 
and laughter, or angry altercation, give explana- 
tion ; but a dense crowd of silent men, stand- 
ing, mysterious and alarmingly suggestive, or 
moving on, with that muffled tramp, so terrible 
and never to be forgotten, when heard from the 
feet of hurrying men with silent tongues, chills 
the listener's blood with dreadful apprehension. 
Jenkins, after his sentence, was asked to see a 
priest, which he declined, saying he would 
rather have a cigar ; after which he requested 
some brandy and water. On the way to the 
gallows he spoke not a word. Arrived at the 
fatal spot, he refused, with obscenity and curses, 
the renewed offers of religious consolation, and 
died with ribaldry upon his lips. The night 
was moonlit, often obscured a moment by the 
passing clouds, bringing out, clearly defined, and 
then veiling in alternate light and charitable 
16 



242 MEN AND MEMORIES 

shade, the lifeless, hanging body, whose head 
and features, seen in "the phases of the moon," 
horribly grotesque, seemed nodding and grin- 
ning contemptuous defiance at his executioners. 
Stuart, murderer as he was, had something 
almost redeeming, as he walked to death, look- 
ing, to the casual glance, no different from the 
other men, in whose ranks he walked erect and 
firm, with gleaming eye and unblanched face, 
dressed in a full suit of black, with every out- 
ward indication of a gentleman. 

Watching the chances has been rewarded 
oftentimes by rich results in San Francisco. 
There are two rich men in this city, who accu- 
mulated the bulk of their wealth by watching 
for accidents in the business of other men ; for 
omissions in legal documents; for little loop- 
holes, wherein to insert one finger, until a larger 
orifice might be worn, and a lodgment ob- 
tained, from which to worry off the just and 
rightful owners, by blujQfing, annoying, harass- 
ing, or, that failing, to compromise, i. e., black- 
mail. When we say there are two, we must not 
be understood as saying there are only two, for 
doubtless there are scores of them; but this 
particular couple are, and have been for many 
years, under our especial observation, attracted 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 243 

first, many years ago, by a most cruel and 
treacherous act, which robbed a widow and sev- 
eral orphans, leaving them entirely destitute. 

These men have emissaries constantly on the 
watch for any flaw in titles, any discrepancy in 
dates, any complication of circumstances, during 
which the crowding of claims, or pressure for 
payment, would ruin a man financially ; which 
facts, brought to their knowledge, brings them 
down immediately on their prey. Xo home, no 
wife nor children, no domestic agony, are con- 
sidered for a moment, when these men are 
legally enforced; and if the wrongs, the op- 
pression, the ruined men and separated families, 
and all their wretchedness, through the rapacity 
of these two men, could be recorded, 'twould 
be a most damning record. They have never 
committed any act without the sanction of law. 
They are among our first citizens; they flaunt 
their wealth most arrogantly; but, as the old 
farmer said of one of his neighbors who was 
exceedingly blasphemous, boasting that his 
crop was in, all safely housed, without praying 
for the Divine aid he didn't want and didn't 
believe in, "Yes, yes, neighbor ; but God doesn't 
settle with everybody in October!" /And our 
two highly respected citizens still flourish. 

Smaller rogues sometimes watch the chances, 



244 MEN AND MEMORIES 

with very profitable results — for the nonce; 
though no man or woman ever wronged another, 
without punishment equal to the offense, and 
without being conscious of it when the penalty 
came. 

There was an English Jew in San Francisco 
in the early days, who was very plausible, cour- 
teous and respectable in appearance. What he 
did for a livelihood was not known or ques- 
tioned, perhaps, as no one confined himself to 
one particular vocation. The merchant or the 
mechanic might follow, ostensibly, but one oc- 
cupation, might be in his office or shop at just 
such stated hours as the merchant or mechanic 
of to-day; but he would be speculating in a 
dozen operations if they promised good profits, 
— and they mostly did then. 

This Israelitish subject of H. B. M. formed 
the acquaintance of the Peralta family, and 
quite soon ingratiated himself in their favor. 
The native Californians were as unsuspecting as 
they were hospitable and honest, trusting im- 
plicitly their fellow-men. About that time, a 
sale of land on the Peralta tract brought in a 
large sum of money to its owner. The money 
was paid yi gold coin, upon the counter of Pal- 
mer, Cook & Go's Bank, in the presence of Col. 
Hayes, Major Caperton and Mr. Cook, of the 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 245 

firm. The obsequious and solicitous friend 
was there, attending to the interests of El 
Senor Peralta, and advised him not to leave so 
large an amount in one bank, for fear of acci- 
dents; but to distribute it in fifty thousand 
dollar deposits in the various banking houses, 
which sage counsel was followed. The old gen- 
tleman did not notice that the amount placed 
in Davidson's Bank was on a certificate in favor 
of his oflScious friend. He did notice, however, 
that his attentive and constant visitor was ab- 
sent after that day; and subsequently learned 
that he had drawn the deposit at Davidson' s, 
and left on the first steamer for other climes. 

The original owners of California lands were 
shamefully robbed, wronged and despoiled by 
squatters, and the thieving lawyers who set 
them to their work. The most infamous schemes 
were hatched by law firms in San Francisco, to 
rob the noblest, kindest men on the earth — the 
Rancheros of California. The recital of some 
facts would be of extreme interest to the pub- 
lic, and more exciting than pleasant to some of 
our first citizens. 

Palmer, Cook & Co. were ever the friends of 
the old Spanish proprietors, aiding them with 
money and advice. Nearly all the great claims 



246 MEN AND MEMORIES 

were settled through their house, unselfishly 
and honorably on their side, and in the best 
interests of their clients; and never, to our 
knowledge, was this banking firm anything else 
than an aid and help to all honest men seeking 
their cooperation. 

Moses Ellis was of the firm of Ellis, Crosby 
& Co., on Sansome street, between Jackson and 
Pacific, in the spring of '50. Mr. Ellis was a 
very successful merchant, and left San Fran- 
cisco a few years since to reside in some village 
in Massachusetts. We believe the California 
fever attacks him periodically, and we consider 
it a mere question of time as to when he shall 
succumb. We think that George Sanderson, 
who had been in Stockton since ' 49, came to 
San Francisco, and took Mr. Ellis' business on 
Front street, when the latter gentleman retired. 

A. J. Ellis, who was at work one day in '49. 
near Montgomery and Jackson streets, ran a 
splinter under his nail, and on the spur, or the 
splinter of the moment, with that choleric im- 
petuosity which is characteristic of him, threw 
his plane as far as he could into the open lot, 
now covered by the Metropolitan Theatre, vow- 
ing that he would never do another day' s car- 
pentering. He never has, and survives remark- 
ably well. 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 247 

There was a Mr. William Sharron in San Fran- 
cisco in the spring of 50, who was a broker and 
commission merchant. He lived on the corner 
of Union and Mason streets. We do not know 
whether it was the gentleman who figures so 
prominently in the financial aBfairs of San Fran- 
cisco to-day. We merely remember a gentle- 
man of that name, and that he lived in the 
above mentioned place. We know that he is 
a man who has very little to say ; but that he is 
heard from to considerable purpose occasionally, 
which induces us to believe that the Mr. Shar- 
ron of '73 and the Mr. Sharron of the spring of 
'50 are identical. 

R, N. Berry was the lively broker, operator 
and commission merchant of those days; and 
subsequently, as long as his health permitted 
the exercise of his remarkable energies and fer- 
tile brain. Business to him was a mere pas- 
time, like a recreation to ordinary men. Mr. 
Berry's management of business affairs was like 
the action of the painter, writer or advocate 
who has genius to aid his labors. 

There were two brothers Sanchez, real estate 
brokers, on Clay street, above Montgomery, 
Bernardino and Sautura. There was also a 
Joseph Sanchez, a broker, on Broadway, be- 



248 MEN AND MEMORIES 

tween Stockton and Dupont, but we do not 
know that he was a brother of the Clay street 
firm. 

Robert Turnbull was a broker on Washing- 
ton street; and J. Ambrose Hooper was in the 
same business on Jackson street. They were 
active, busy men. 

James Mcllwain was a wide-awake broker in 
those days, and is to-day; but he was a mere 
boy then, although he could sell merchandise 
with any of the men, and was a lively feature 
in the streets, rattling back and forth on his 
long-tailed, scampering pony. To-day, as in 
the spring of '50, his word is as good as his 
bond. 

Asa and George Loring were manufacturing 
jewelers in San Francisco in '50. Whether they 
were of the firm of Loring & Hogg, in Ward' s 
Court, or whether they were with Hayes & 
Lyndall, on Clay street, we are uncertain; but 
we do know that they were good craftsmen, and 
good citizens. Asa is long since dead. George 
worked in Grass Valley for many years since 
'51-52, but is at present employed in the U. S. 
Mint at San Francisco. 

Robert Shankland was of the firm of Shank- 
land & Gibson, auctioneers, on Kearny, between 
Washington and Jackson. Mr. Shankland now 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 249 

leads a bucolic life, in company with Mr. James 
L. Riddle, near Mountain Yiew. 

The Hon. Thos. H. Selby was of the firm of 
Selby & Post, metal dealers, on Sacramento 
street, between Kearny and Dupont, in the 
spring of '50 — active, shrewd and enterprising 
then as now. 

Isaiah C. Woods, who was the manager of 
Adams & Go's banking house in San Francisco, 
was never understood or appreciated by the 
general public. He is one of the ablest busi- 
ness men ever in San Francisco. Had he been 
allowed to settle the affairs of Adams & Co., it 
would have been far better for the creditors of 
that firm. Mr. Woods is a man who would, in 
any other city than San Francisco, have been 
considered a valuable acquisition to its business 
men — its men of brains — its great movers and 
workers — and not only permitted, but requested 
to remain where he was — would have been aided 
and cooperated with, in continuing the house of 
Adams & Co. 

Mr. Woods can originate any enterprise, clearly 
and feasibly, which, if carried out in detail, un- 
der his direction, will eventuate prosperously 
for the public and the projectors of the scheme. 
There was too much misrepresentation, preju- 



250 MEN AND MEMORIES 

dice and excitement at the time of the Adams 
& Co. failure; it was a very bad affair, but 
ought not to have been charged to I. 0. Woods 
in all its disastrous mismanagement. Such men, 
with a fair chance, make business and prosperity 
for any city; and any such men's withdrawal, 
voluntary or compulsory, from business, is a 
public misfortune. We have always considered 
Mr. Woods as ranking in ability with I. Fried- 
lander, W. 0. Ralston, Jabez Howes, J. Palmer, 
Charles Cook, Harry Meiggs, and the late Henry 
Haight — men of broad, comprehensive vision, 
never forgetting the grand perspective, far- 
reaching to the horizon, because of some puny 
obstacle held temporarily before their eyes. 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 251 



CHAPTER XXVI. 

"Where the Grand Hotel stands, on Market 
and Second streets, there was, in 1849, and up 
to 1853-4, a sand-hill, which was the subject of 
long and well-contested litigation, with strangely 
fluctuating fortune for the claimants on either 
side. It was taken to the Supreme Court and de- 
cided in favor of one party ; a rehearing granted, 
and, after another long struggle, decided in 
favor of the other party. Then the ulti- 
mately successful ones were forced to hold it 
by force of arms. We remember Selim and Fred. 
Woodworth and Stephen Teschemacher arm- 
ing and equipping themselves with shotguns, 
revolvers, sandwiches and stimulants, and en- 
camping on the ground to hold possession 
against squatters, as late as 1853. In 1857 it 
was leased to Mr. Pease, brother of E. T. Pease, 
who occupied it as a coal-yard, at a merely 
nominal price, to hold possession for its owners. 
Although Second street was well built up on 
both sides, from Market to Rincon Hill, Mar- 
ket street, west of Second, was little more than 



252 MEN AND MEMORIES 

a sand-waste. Father Maginnis' Church and a 
few straggling buildings were the only objects 
to mark the street line; and for a long time 
after Kearny was navigable to Market and 
across into Third street, there was a high sand- 
bank across Market, so high that the person 
walking from Kearny into Third, could not see 
the "Devisadero" heights, beyond the Mission' 
If we remember rightly, the obstruction re- 
mained there until excavated by the track- 
layers of the Market Street Railroad. 

At the corner of O'Farrell and Dupont 
streets, in 1855-6, was a laundry; but the lat- 
ter street was a cul de sac, unless you scaled the 
almost perpendicular sand-bank directly across 
the street, at the end of the laundry building, 
which feat accomplished, you saw a quiet val- 
ley, with a little, shallow lagmia, a few cottages, 
and a garden and hot-houses of considerable 
dimensions, where Monsieur Habert cultivated 
exotics. The diminished domains of that gar- 
den still remain on Eddy street, near Powell, 
and a signboard informs the public that M. 
Yivien is the successor of M. Habert. This 
region was called St. Ann's Yalley then, and 
the way to the Mission was easy for horses or 
pedestrians across this valley, the ground being 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 253 

generally firmer than round about it. As you 
went on, you saw a little church-belfry above 
the sand-hills; the same building now standing 
on the corner of Geary and Mason, and used 
at present as a school-house. A big sand-hill 
stood where Starr King's Church, the City 
College, and the blocks of buildings on both 
sides of Stockton, between G-eary and O'Farrel], 
now stand. 

A large wooden house, the residence of 
Dr. Gates, stood on the hill at the south- 
west corner of Geary and Stockton; as high 
— the ground floors of it — as the roof of the 
College building on the opposite corner now 
is from the present street level. In '59 or '60 
this building was lowered and placed on the 
Geary street line, where it now stands, occupied 
by Dr. Calvert, dentist. In '60 and '61 Mr. 
Ohm, the importer of watches for so many years 
in this city, came to live in the cottage adjoin- 
ing the building last mentioned, and soon after 
purchased the fifty-vara lot in the centre of 
the block, on the Geary street line, and erected 
the four commodious dwellings now thereon. 
Long after this time, the Union Plaza-ground 
was covered by a sand-hill, so high that the 
neighbors on the surrounding streets could see 
only the roofs of the houses opposite their own. 



254 MEN AND MEMOEIES 

Near the corner of Powell and Geary, on the 
latter street, was a three-story wooden build- 
ing, used as a laundry. The same building is 
now on Powell, just below Geary, on the east 
side of the street, and now answers for a double 
house. Where Dr. Hemphill's Church now 
stands, there was a single story cottage and 
stables, occu23ied by the owner of the property. 
A pretty little girl with flaxen curls used to live 
there ; and often, when we passed that way, she 
put her tiny hands through the railing of the 
fence, for us to shake, and wish her "Good 
morning!" 

Where the Scotch Presbyterian Church stands, 
on Mason street, near Eddy, there stood, until 
three or four years ago, the house of Henry 
Gerke, the great viniculturist. 

Mr. Gerke built on this spot in 1847, more 
than a year before the discovery of gold in dig- 
ging the Sutter mill-race. The Gerke House 
was a capacious wooden building, two stories, 
with a high roof, and broad, sheltering veran- 
das on both stories — a comfortable, homelike 
dwelling. We used to look upon this house 
with peculiar feelings of regard and interest 
years ago, when passing it; standing solitary 
among the sand-hills, so remote from even the 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 255 

little city which was itself so far away from all 
the rest of busy human kind. It seemed so 
strange a place to build a home — away from 
all society, out of sight of every human habita- 
tion — so still by day and lonesome after night- 
fall, year after year — until gregarious man- 
kind approached, with steady creeping tide of 
population, until its flood surrounded them on 
every side, and Fate or Chance, as if resenting 
the long and silent isolation of that old home, 
built on the very spot a church, where hundreds 
now meet in congregation, and raise their voices 
in loud united praise and songs of thanksgiving. 

The Waverly House was a large, four- story 
wooden building, on the north side of Pacific 
street, between Montgomery and Kearny. It 
was painted a dark brown, and the words "Wav- 
erly House" painted in huge white letters upon 
its front. It was very well conducted, and 
quite a comfortable place, at five dollars per 
diem, per capita. The house stood upon an un- 
even portion of the street, and the platform be- 
fore the entrance was, at its eastern end, raised 
but two or three steps above the ground, while, 
at the western extremity of the hotel front, it 
ended twelve feet above the ground, without 
rail or guard of any kind. We remember an 



256 MEN AND MEMORIES 

invalid passenger (a Mr. Chapman) who arrived 
in June, ' 50, being sufi&ciently recovered to take 
a little evening exercise on the platform, walked 
back and forth a few times in the dark, and 
then, thinking to extend his promenade round 
the corner, walked off, severely injuring him- 
self, and prolonging his stay at the "Waverly." 

The hill, up Clay street to the postoffice, on 
the corner of Pike and Clay, was very steep in 
the spring of '50. The Plaza was an open, un- 
interrupted space, from the buildings on Clay 
street to those on Washington street. • Steps 
were cut into the ground along where the side- 
walk now borders the Plaza, and in some places 
on the opposite side — quite an aid in climbing 
for letters at the postoffice. Colonel Geary 
opened the first postoffice on the corner of 
Washington and Montgomery; thence he re- 
moved to the corner of Washington and Stock- 
ton; thence to the corner of Pike and Clay. 
Here, long lines of patient men, six and twelve 
months from home, via Cape Horn, waited for 
letters. The looker-on could see happy faces 
and sad ones turning away from the windows, 
whence issued sealed missives more portentous 
than the contents of Pandora's box! The win- 
dow-clerks rarely, if ever, had change for a 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 257 

dollar, and the happy recipient of a letter cared 
nothing at such a moment for his change. 

It was said that some fellows made quite a good 
salary by selling out, when near the window, to 
some new comer, with more money than patience. 
In 1851, the postoffice was removed to the zinc- 
covered building on the northeast corner of 
Dupont and Clay, the westhern half of which 
house was occupied at the same time by E. 
Wilson, as a restaurant. Mr. Wilson afterward 
opened Wilson's Exchange, now the American 
Exchange, on Sansome, near Sacramento street. 
We never pass these old postoffice neighbor- 
hoods, without imagining the air peopled with 
invisible beings, haunting the spot where they 
were born of joys and sorrows, engendered in 
the hearts of men, excessively emotional. 

The first brick building on California street 
was erected for Fitzgerald, Bausch & Brewster, 
who were, prior to that time, on Sacramento 
street. This brick building stood where the 
California market now stands. Where Mr. 
Stevenson's large brick building now stands, on 
the southwest corner of California and Mont- 
gomery streets, Leidesdorfif's cottage stood in 
1849. It was a one-story building, with a pyra- 
midal kind of roof. The front of the house 
17 



258 MEN AND MEMORIES 

faced the east as nearly as any point, for it stood 
diagonally on the lot. There were two windows 
and a door in the front; the door was reached 
by a little flight of steps to a platform, with a 
railing. There was a railed enclosure, com- 
mencing at the Montgomery street south end 
of the house, and the west end on California 
street. There was a large wooden building on 
this corner in '50 or '51. Payne & Dewey had 
an auction and sales room in the lower stor}^ 
John Middleton also had an auction room in 
the same place. Clayton once kept a restaurant, 
called the "Jackson House," in the same build- 
ing. Madame Martin, since of the Maison Dore, 
N. Y., used to keep lodging rooms in this house. 
A sketch of Montgomery street, by Pender- 
gast, showing the front of this building, and 
Chinamen at work in the erection of Parrott's 
stone building, now occupied by Wells, Fargo & 
Co., may be seen at Barry & Patten's. The stone 
for the Parrott building was dressed and fitted 
in China. The tenants of Mr. Stevenson's build- 
ing accord its owner the reputation of being the 
most obliging landlord in the city; and it is 
generally understood that the building pays the 
best interest of any property on Montgomery 
street, and Mr. Stevenson' s tenants do not like 
to look farther and fare worse. 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 259 

Hull & Ryckman were the proprietors of the 
" New World" building, on the northeast cor- 
ner of Commercial and LeidesdorfF. The lower 
floor was a large saloon, and the upper stories 
were offices and lodging rooms. We remember 
that a man who had been employed in the 
building, painting, papering, or doing something 
else, was remonstrated with by Mr. Ryckman 
for negligence or dishonesty in his work, when 
he became insolent, saying to Mr. Ryckman, 
" If you were a younger man I would whip 
you," "Oh, don't let that deter you in the 
least," said Mr. Ryckman, getting up from his 
chair, and closing the office door. " I'll not 
ask any odds on that account," he continued, 
walking up to the man and giving him a rousing 
box on the ear. The man exerted himself with 
all his ability, but was soon compelled to suc- 
cumb, and gladly departed when Mr. Ryckman 
pointed to the door. 

Nash, Patten & Thayer built and owned the 
" Kremlin," on the southeast corner of Com- 
mercial and Leidesdorff. The lower floor was 
occupied by a saloon, bar and restaurant, and 
the upper floors by lodging rooms. The restau- 
rant was on the Leidesdorff side of the building. 
It was on the beach, in the rear of this building, 
where Captain Folsom shot Mr. Nathaniel Page 



260 MEN AND MEMORIES 

— or Mr. Page' s watch — as the ball struck the 
time - keeper, which foiled the death -dealer. 
This assault took place on the beach, nearer to 
Halleck street than Commercial, but it was all 
open water outside Leidesdorff street. The tide 
came up under the "New World" and "Krem- 
lin" buildings, as late as May 4th, when both 
houses were destroyed by fire. 

John H. Redington was of the firm of E. S. 
Holden & Co., druggists, on Sansome, between 
California and Pine, in 1850. Subsequently 
Mr. Redington was with Andrew J. Almy, on 
the southeast corner of Clay and Montgomery. 
Dr. Holden has since resided in Stockton, and 
been Mayor of that town. He is a very active 
railroad man, with views and energy far in ad- 
vance of that dozing village by the San Joaquin. 
Mr. Redington has been in the California Sen- 
ate. Mr. Almy died some years since, and W. 
H. Keith occupied the old store on the corner 
of Clay and Montgomery for some time prior 
to removing across the street, into Howard's 
building, now occupied by James G. Steele & 
Co. 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 261 



CHAPTER XXVII. 

In the summer of 1850 we lived in a little 
cottage on Montgomery street, somewhere be- 
tween Broadway and Vallejo; the precise spot 
we cannot tell, as there were no land-marks to 
designate street lines, the whole neighborhood 
being precipitous, rough and uneven, save where 
some little space had been leveled for a house 
or tent. There were very few habitations of 
any kind, after passing the line of Broadway. 

Nearly opposite our domicile was a little tent, 
its only occupants, a woman and child. The 
mother was seldom seen ; the daughter, a deli- 
cate, interesting child of eight or nine years, 
was often at the opening of the tent, shyly ob- 
serving us, with childlike curiosity, as we went 
down to the city in the morning and returned 
at evening. The mother and child were dressed 
in poor, soiled, mourning garments, but their 
attire could not make them seem coarse or un- 
refined. In the occasional glimpse of the 
mother, we could discern the unmistakable 



262 MEN AND MEMORIES 

lady — that something which all can see and 
none describe. We never spoke with her, knew 
nothing of her, not even her name ; but knew 
she was a well-bred, accomplished lady. She 
had a poor, jingley, old piano in her wretched, 
little canvas apology for a shelter; but she 
never indulged in any trashy music. Early in 
the morning and late in the evening we heard 
her practising, with the facility and grace of a 
musician — a style which even the muffling can- 
vas could not hide. Sometimes, though seldom, 
she gave a little scrap of a sonata, a fragment 
of Mozart, Beethoven or Sebastian Bach, with 
exquisite effect, but never any trash. 

In our daily and constant going and coming, 
we made friends with the little, lonesome-look- 
ing girl, so pale and quiet ; and she was always 
watching for us, morning and night — a pure 
pleasure for us, so far from home and children. 
We often brought her some trifle — a toy, a little 
paper of confectionery, a cake or picture-book, 
which she received at first shyly, but with much 
pleasure; and after our better acquaintance, 
with an unconcealed delight, that made the 
moment as much to us as to her poor little 
fragile self — worth all the day beside. One 
evening at our return we missed her, and lin- 
gered awhile to meet her, but she did not come. 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 263 

We went in to our dinner, but the little omis- 
sion had made us less hungry than usual, and 
we dwelt upon our little friend's absence long 
into the evening. 

When morning came she was not there to 
welcome us, and we waited vainly, almost de- 
termined to step to the tent and satisfy our 
curiosity; but did not — turning down the hill, 
with reluctant steps, to our daily labor. We 
thought, all through the long September day, 
about our little friend, sure of meeting her 
when we went home ; but again we were disap- 
pointed, and resolved to know in the morning 
all about our missing one. We questioned our 
host and his wife, but they had not noticed — 
believed they had seen neither mother nor 
child that day. At midnight we were awak- 
ened by a woman's voice in agony of weeping, 
and supplicating prayer. Starting from our 
bed, we hastened to the window. All was still ; 
not a sound came to our listening ears. The 
moon was wonderfully bright, revealing every 
object in the still, cool night, with great dis- 
tinctness. 

Thinking we had been awakened by a dream, 
we were turning back to bed, when a loud 
cry rang out upon the silent night — a wail 
so utterly despairing, that our heart stood still. 



264 MEN AND MEMORIES 

It came from the little tent; there was a dull, 
reddish light through the canvas, unnoticeable 
before in the all-powerful moonlight. Agoniz- 
ing sobs followed the long, thrilling cry; the 
mother' s voice calling her darling' s name ; the 
sound of oft-repeated kisses; then low moans 
and silence. The child was dead ! We hastily 
dressed and hurried to the spot. There were 
other voices in the tent; soft, soothing words 
from women's lips and from their hearts — kind, 
sympathizing neighbors, we knew, by the lighted, 
open doors near by. Knowing the poor, moth- 
erless woman was in gentle hands, we turned 
sadly away to wait for daylight. We longed to 
offer some sympathy or assistance; but it never 
would have helped the wretched mother, who 
was almost paralyzed with grief. 

As we went down our daily path, our heart 
heavy with its first sorrow in this earthly para- 
dise, we met a man carrying a little cofiRn on 
his shoulder. Stopping in the path, we stood 
uncovered, repeating in our heart, "The Lord 
giveth and the Lord taketh away: blessed be 
the name of the Lord!" and went on to the 
battle of life, with no courage in our heart. 
When we came home at night, the place seemed 
strangely altered. A little, level place on the 
hillside, was all that remained to mark the 



OF EAELY SAN FRANCISCO. 265 

spot where had been the tent, our innocent 
little friend, the mother's long days of anxious 
poverty, and her last night of hopeless agony. 
They were gone from our sight and knowledge, 
from everything but memory, forever. 



266 MEN AND MEMORIES 



CHAPTER XXYIII. 

The late James Donahue was one of the most 
practical men and useful citizens ever known in 
San Francisco. His great energies were always 
directed towards some object which ultimately 
resulted in public improvement and the welfare 
of his fellow citizens. His sagacity and fore- 
sight are proven by the eventuating of his 
undertakings. Having once conceived an enter- 
prise, it was viewed on every side in the search- 
ing light of his strong practical sense; and 
when determined upon, was persistently pur- 
sued to sure success. His worldly wisdom was 
only equaled by his modesty and charity; and 
we may truly say that, among all the men 
whom we remember, during the almost quarter 
of a century of our life in San Francisco, we 
recall not one more moral, useful and upright 
citizen than the late James Donahue. 

Mr. Joseph Gr. Eastland was in San Francisco 
in 1849, but we do not place him, until '52 or 
'53, when he was with the S. F. Gas Co. Mr. 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 267 

Eastland was the confidential secretary of the 
late James Donahue, who was a man to select 
none but good officers. In brief, to any one 
acquainted with the late Mr. Donahue, this fact 
is as good as many elaborated pages upon the 
character and qualifications of Mr. Eastland, 
who is indeed a gentleman of refined and cul- 
tivated tastes, aside from his thorough business 
capacity. 

Dr. Parker — W. C. Parker — was of the firm 
of Stevenson & Parker, in 1850. Their ofiice 
was in the adobe building, on the Plaza. They 
were in the real estate business. Col. Steven- 
son was the commander, and Dr. Parker was 
the surgeon of Stevenson's Regiment. We do 
not think there is a man in California who has 
any just cause of complaint against Dr. W. C. 
Parker. Not that he is a negative character, by 
any means, or a person who will bear the least 
crowding; but he is so quiet, so unassuming, 
and still so perfectly just in all his dealings, 
that we cannot believe any one knows him 
without coinciding with our expressed opinion. 

Colonel Stevenson is too well known for any 
remarks in our pages. We would like to have 
the secret of the Colonel's unflagging vigor and 
vitality. We were turning into a doorway on 
Montgomery street, a short time since, to visit 



268 MEN AND MEMORIES 

one of the up-stairs offices; and, as we were 
walking up, Colonel Stevenson brushed past us, 
with a cheery "Good morning!" and jumped 
up, two steps at a time, to the landing, like a 
school-boy. Most of our citizens conform a lit- 
tle to the fashions, but the Colonel wears the 
same style of closely-buttoned frock, and mili- 
tary fatigue cap ; and seems the same Colonel 
Stevenson who came here in 1847. 

There was a Dr. Parker, who had an office on 
Kearny street in '49, and in June, '50; but 
we do not remember seeing him since that 
time. He was a tall, large-framed man, with a 
long, dark beard ; and we remember hearing him 
say that he was from Shirley, Mass., and think 
he was a graduate of old Harvard. 

James L. King arrived in San Francisco on 
the steamer Tennessee, June 20th, 1850. We 
believe that Captain Cole commanded the Ten- 
nessee that trip. Lieut. McDermott, of the U. S. 
N., was her first officer; and subsequently was 
on the Alias editorial staff. Mr. King has been 
a successful real estate operator, and is exceed- 
ingly well posted on any titles to land within 
six miles of the Plaza. Our intercourse has 
always been pleasant, and we are indebted to 
Mr. King for many valuable items. 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 269 

S. F. Blaisdell is one of the California pio- 
neers. We believe he came from Lima to San 
Francisco. To the former city he went as en- 
gineer of the steamer Rimae^ which was built 
in the United States, and sent out for the Peru- 
vian Government in 1847. Mr. Blaisdell has 
long been interested in one of the first estab- 
lished telegraph companies of San Francisco. 
He is a man of strong predilections and em- 
phatic expression, but of true and sterling in- 
tegrity. 

Fred. Thibault was a commission merchant 
at 245 Montgomery street, in the spring of '50. 
But we have known him so many years in his 
official capacity, that it is a little difficult to be- 
lieve that he could ever have been anything else 
than the most exact of conveyancers and public 
notaries. To be on the spot "where men most 
do congregate," and not see Mr. Thibault' s well 
known figure and peculiar sombrero^ would be a 
strange incident in that day. 

William H. Tillinghast, now a banker on Cali- 
fornia street, was, in the spring of ' 50, of the 
firm of E. Mickle k Co., on Clay street, north 
side, between Montgomery and Sansome. Mr. 
Tillinghast came from Valparaiso to San Fran- 
cisco. He is a thorough-bred merchant and a 
courteous gentleman. 



270 MEN AND MEMORIES 

Samuel Price was of the firm of E. D. Heat- 
ley & Co., commission merchants, on Exchange 
Court, off Montgomery street. Mr. Price was 
the consul for Chili in the spring of '50, and, if 
we are not mistaken, is a native of that coun- 
try. However, we are sure that no more amia- 
ble man in business, or the social relations of 
life, ever came to San Francisco from any part 
of the world. 

R. H. Sinton arrived in California on board 
the U. S. ship of war Ohio^ Commodore Jones, 
in 1847. Mr. Sinton was acting paymaster, the 
purser having become insane on the passage. 
In the spring of '50, Mr. Sinton was of the firm 
of Sinton & Bagley, on Clay, below Kearny 
street, their store being on the same spot now 
occupied by Lewis' jewelry store. In all the 
years of Mr. Sinton' s residence in San Fran- 
cisco, in his business relations, his official capa- 
city and social life, he has had the respect and 
confidence of his fellow-citizens. Mr. Sinton is 
now in the real estate business with Gen. Geo. 
P. Ihrie, late of the U. S. A. 

Phillip McCovern was on the corner of First 
and Mission streets, in the days when first we 
knew him — some time in '50; and in all the 
time since those days, we have known nothing 
but good of him. We meet him occasionally, 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 271 

and he wears well. "We hope he may be with 
us for many years to come. 

Charles Lux had his office on Kearny street, 
near Sacramento, in 1850; and, if we are not 
mistaken, is in the same place to-day. Not the 
same building — a large brick building stands 
where the old wooden structure containing Mr. 
Lux's office stood, twenty-three years ago. What 
shabby old shanties made up Kearny street in 
those days ! We were all in a hurry then ; we 
didn't think so much of appearances as now — 
hadn't time! Now, Kearny street is quite ur- 
ban; and our old friend Lux has "cattle upon 
a thousand hills." 

Mr. Thomas Breeze, of the firm of Murphy, 
Grant & Co., was at a desk in an office on Clay 
street wharf, the first time we ever saw him. It, 
was on the ninth of June, 1850; and we remem- 
ber, also, that Elisha W. Bourne and Captain 
Brenham, subsequently Mayor of San Francisco, 
were at Mr. Breeze's desk, on business. We 
know of few men who have given themselves 
so unremittingly to business for the past twenty- 
three years as Mr. Breeze ; and we are glad in 
our belief that he has reaped the reward of his 
long labors. 

John F. Lohse was a merchant on Washing- 
ton street, between Montgomery and Sansome, 



272 MEN AND MEMORIES 

in the spring of '50, and was an agreeable man 
with whom to transact business. He still re- 
tains that amiable trait, and will to-day nego- 
tiate with affable courtesy the sale of powder 
enough to blow up every truant husband in the 
State of California. Music is a grand conserv- 
ant of men' s lives and tempers, and Mr. Lohse 
is one of the dilettante. 

Camilo Martin was on "Washington street, be- 
tween Montgomery and Sansome, in the spring 
of '50. To-day, Mr. Martin is the consul for 
Spain, and is in the London and San Francisco 
Bank. As we see Mr. Martin passing along the 
street to-day, he appears the same as he did 
twenty-three years ago. 

Mr. William Stevenson, so long the treasurer 
of Maguire's Opera House, arrived in San Fran- 
cisco in 1849. Soon after his arrival, Mr. Rowe 
opened his circus entertainments on Kearny 
street, exactly where Commercial street now 
opens into it ; and Mr. Stevenson took charge of 
the financial department. Through all the 
years since that time, and in the various places 
of amusement where our old friend has counted 
so much of " the root of all evil," we may ven- 
ture to state that the cash always balanced, to 
the satisfaction of all parties concerned. 

(jrrayson & Guild were on the east side of 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 273 

Sansome, between Pacific and Jackson; and in 
the summer of '50, there was just room enough 
to drive drays past their store-door; the bank 
rising abruptly along the line of the middle of 
the street in front of their store, making the 
western half of the way nearly as high as the 
roof of their building. A. J. Grayson and family 
are painted in Jewett's picture of "The California 
Pioneer." Mr. G-uild, we believe, returned to 
St. Louis many years ago. Mr. J. F. Lightner, 
who was with Grayson & Guild at this time^ 
is still a resident, and, we think, is in business 
on California street. 

Norton, Satterlee and Norton were counsel- 
ors-at-law, and had their office in No. 1, Laflfan's 
Building, Plaza. The late Hon. Edward Nor- 
ton, Chief Justice of California, and Myron 
Norton, were the partners of Judge Satterlee, 
who was Judge of the Superior Court in ' 52- 
'53. The late David C. Broderick used to-say: 
"We are sure of justice in the Superior Court, 
because John Satterlee sits there." Nathaniel 
Bennett was an Associate Justice of the Supreme 
Court at that time. The McAllisters, father 
and son, were eminent lawyers at that time. 
Hall McAllister always has plenty of business, 
because he never neglects his clients. Edwards, 
Chetwood, Rose, Pringle, Whitcomb, Noyes, 
18 



274 MEN AND MEMORIES 

Lake, Janes, Boyd, Barber, and many others, 
were practising law in San Francisco in the 
spring of '50. Ogden Hoffman's office was also 
in Laffan's building in '50. 

We have elsewhere spoken of Dr. Jones and 
his eccentric conduct with his gold-dust; but 
we omitted to mention the fact of his going 

home to , we forget the town, in New 

York State, but think it was Poughkeepsie, his 
native place — somewhere in that neighborhood, 
however — and taking his treasure with him. 
He would not have it out of his sight; refused 
to deposit or invest it; but kept it in his room, 
and sat watching it all day and nearly all night; 
too anxious to slumber — afraid to close his eyes, 
lest his treasure should " take to itself wings." 
Of course this could not long continue; and 
soon the insomnious argonaut died midst his 
golden fleece. 

Fred Gibbs, Morton Cheesman, Capt, Johns, 
and Florence Mahoney, arrived on the steam- 
ship California, January 22, 1850. Mr. Gibbs' 
first place of business was on Washington street, 
near Kearny; then on Sansome, corner of Wash- 
ington, where he was burned out ; and was 
again and again burned out on Sansome street — 
three times in all. Mr. Gibbs is a generous, 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 275 

warm-hearted man and true friend ; a good citi- 
zen, and a graduate of old Harvard. 

Morton Cheesman is a good specimen of the 
men of '50 — not half a century, he's a young 
man yet — and is widely and favorably known 
in business and social circles. Capt. Johns ar- 
rived twenty-two days too late for the Associa- 
tion of Pioneers ; but, for all that, they elected 
him their president, one foggy evening, much 
to the astonishment of many worthy citizens, 
who were here two or three weeks prior to 
Captain Johns' arrival, yet believed themselves 
ineligible. The next morning, when the fog 
had cleared away, the brilliant body who had 
elevated Captain Johns to the presiding chair of 
their august assembly, looked very solemn, and 
conferred in anxious whispers, the result of which 
was a reconsideration of their vote, which let 
Captain Johns out of the Associationof Pioneers. 

This unparliamentary action was more amus- 
ing than surprising to the citizens of San Fran- 
cisco, who knew of the prevailing fog about the 
heads. Some day, a good healthy breeze will 
clear up the heavy mists, and make it plain 
sailing for all Californians who were here on 
the ninth of September, 1850. Florence Ma- 
hony died long years ago, and all our recollec- 
tions of him are pleasant. All the partners in 
his firm — Case, Heiser & Co. — are dead. 



276 MEN AND MEMORIES 



CHAPTER XXIX. 

William Shear was the proprietor of the 
''Tontine," on the southeast corner of Mont- 
gomery and Commercial, in 1849-50. In Sep- 
tember, '51, Mr. Shear took the Nightingale 
Hotel, at the Mission. Tenbroeck & Clark 
opened the "Nightingale" in 1850. 

Mr. Shear is in some respects a very remark- 
able man. His great fund of vitality and ex- 
uberance of spirits, health and endurance, are 
simply wonderful. His quick, keen perception 
of the situation, and his ability to master it, to 
make troubled elements harmonious, is nothing 
less than genius. So many men past youth be- 
come morose or misanthropic, that it cheers 
one to meet an old hoy like Mr. Shear. Per- 
sonally, he seems as active and vigorous as in 
the spring of '50; mentally, just as ready in 
repartee, in fun and humor; still firm in the 
belief that happiness is the principal thing in 
this world; and certainly he is a very good 
illustration of its value as a sanitary proposi- 
tion. 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 277 

One evening we were in company with a con- 
vivial party, among whom were Harry B- 



and Tom F . They were very jolly, and 

as usualj disposed to ventilate their classics. 
After numerous quotations, correct and very 
much mixed, they came to a snag — not literal 
— but literary. They tried, and stuck upon it; 
tried again and again, but with no better suc- 
cess, until it was too evident that the professed 
heUe httre men couldn't make the connection. 
At this juncture. Bill Shear, who had been 
leaning back, silently smoking through all the 
mountain labor, said: "Why, I am surprised, 
gentlemen! I supposed, at first, that you were 
joking — here's the quotation!" He gave it 
correctly, adding, "I knew that I could shoe a 
horse better than any of you; but I never for 
one moment imagined I could beat you at your 
own game." 

Thomas J. Poulterer was on the corner of 
California and Montgomery street in 1849-50. 
We remember a great sale of China goods, 
fancy furniture, bedsteads, lounges, chairs, 
work-tables, silks, shawls, ivory-work, stone- 
ware, etc., seemingly enough to supply the 
whole city for a year. Mr. Poulterer is great 
as an auctioneer; he establishes a sympathy 
between his audience and himself as soon as he 



278 MEN AND MEMORIES 

commences to speak, which makes his sales 
successful. There is nothing narrow or mean 
in his nature, and he makes himself deservedly 
popular, without the slightest intention. 

Mr. Poulterer, after rusticating for a while 
beneath the shade of his own vine and fig-tree, in 
the salubrious air of Sonoma, where Greorge 
Watriss, C. V. Stewart and Major Snyder now 
reside, has returned to our midst, where we 
hope he may long live and prosper. 

William F. "Williamson, Willis Johnson and 
Samuel Davis built the "Veranda," on the cor- 
ner of Washington and Kearny streets, in June, 
1850, and were doing a fine business there 
until Willis Johnson's death, which interrupted 
the smooth flow of fortune's tide, and Mr. Wil- 
liamson went to Gold Bluff, subsequently to 
Downieville, and later still to Sonora, Tuolumne 
county. The Bay Yiew Park Hotel was opened 
by Mr. Williamson, and kept in better style 
than any "out-of-town hotel" ever opened in 
California. It was glorious for the guests, but 
not remunerative to Mr. Williamson, who has, 
since leaving the "Bay View," been the Turf 
Reporter for the "Alta California." No man 
in California, perhaps none in America, has a 
more voluminous record of Turf Sports than 



OF EAELY SAN FRANCISCO. 279 

Mr. Williamson, who is quoted as authority in 
those matters. 

Frederick Marriott was in business with a 
Mr. Anderson, as monetary agents, in Cross, 
Hobson & Go's building, on Clay street, in 
1849. Mr. Marriott was at that time the cor- 
respondent of the London Times. Subsequently 
he was with Smith Brothers in the "Exchange 
for All Nations,' ' on the corner of Sansome and 
California; and still more recently in business 
with Mr. Alfred Wheeler. For many years Mr. 
Marriott has been the proprietor of the News 
Letter^ which has grown to be a very popular and 
profitable institution, having amongst its con- 
tributors the ablest pens in California. This 
paper numbers more Atlantic subscribers than 
any other newspaper on the Pacific coast, and 
is found on the reading-room tables of every 
first class Club in London. 

Alexander Austin, our present Tax Collector, 
had a bakery on Pacific street, in the latter part 
of '49 or the spring of '50. In '52, perhaps 
earlier, Mr. Austin opened his dry goods store, 
on Sacramento street, just above Montgomery. 
Subsequently he removed to Montgomery, be- 
tween Sacramento and California; and later 
still, to the corner of Sutter and Montgomery. 



280 MEN AND MEMORIES 

Mr. Austin has been twice elected to the office 
of Tax Collector, with satisfaction to all par- 
ties. He is a true friend, and full of charity 
and kindness. It has always been a kind of 
proverb or standing joke, that the Scotch are a 
close-fisted, stingy nation. We never were in 
the "land o' cakes," but if the Scotch are so 
at home, the climate of California has a won- 
derful effect upon them, for they are the most 
liberal people in our country. Messrs. Alex- 
ander and Joseph Austin, Donald McClellan, 
James Laidley, the Watt brothers, Mr. Chis- 
holm, the late James Murray and George Gor- 
don, in fact, all of the Scotchmen we have 
known in San Francisco, have been liberal, pub- 
lic-spirited men. Donald McClellan is a good 
specimen of the Scotch- American ; a shrewd, 
active, liberal-minded business man; open- 
handed and generous, always developing the 
resources of any country where he may be liv- 
ing, and making employment for many men. 

The California Courier^ a daily paper, was pub- 
lished and edited by Crane & Rice. T. J. 
Dryer was city editor and reporter. The office 
was on Montgomery street, near the Custom 
House. 

Nugent k Co. were the proprietors of the 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 281 

Daily Herald. Jolin Nugent was the editor. 
Office on Montgomery, between Clay and Wash- 
ington. Subsequently the Herald office was on 
Montgomery, a little south of Sacramento. 

The Journal of Commerce^ a daily paper, was 
published by Washington Bartlett. Office, 
Montgomery street, between Washington and 
Clay. 

The Pacific News office was on Kearny, be- 
tween Pacific and Jackson. Its proprietors 
were J. Winchester and R. N. Allen. J. Win- 
chester, editor. 

The Hvening Picaijune, a daily paper, was pub- 
lished by Gihon & Co. Peter A. Brinsmade 
was its editor. The Picayune office was on 
Jackson, between Kearny and Montgomery. 

The Watchman^ a monthly, religious paper, 
was edited by Albert Williams, in the Journal of 
Commerce office. 

C. L. Taylor's office was on Dupont street, 
between Pine and California. He was a lumber 
and commission merchant, the same as to-day, 
and, as to-day, liberal, enterprising, charitable 
and public spirited. 

Henry Wetherbee was on Pacific street, be- 
tween Sansome and Battery. 

Henry Pierce was the proprietor of the Eagle 
Bakery, on Stockton street, between Green and 
Union. 



282 MEN AND MEMORIES 

George C. Potter was Assistant City Surveyor, 
at City Hall. 

Endicott, Greene & Cakes were merchants on 
Central Wharf. Mr. Greene has since been of 
the firm of Greene, Heath & Allen. 

Probst, Smith & Co. were merchants on Cali- 
fornia street, between Montgomery and San- 
some. 

Hastier, Baine & Co. were on California street, 
between Montgomery and Sansome. Mr, Mc- 
Knight, so many years with the latter firm, is 
now in Davidson's Bank, on the corner of Com- 
mercial and Montgomery. 

At the head of the medical profession in San 
Francisco, in the spring of ' 50, were Dr. Bowie, 
Dr. Stout, Dr. H. M. Gray, Dr. S. R. Gerry, Dr. 
Bertody, Dr. McMillan, and Drs. Coit, S. R. 
Harris, Turnbull, Tewksbury, Bennett, Mackin- 
tosh and Rowell. Many of these gentlemen 
are still in practice in San Francisco — all of them 
men of intellectual superiority and unusual at- 
tainments. There were many others in San Fran- 
cisco, but personally unknown to us. Dr. Stack- 
pole, Dr. May, Dr. Sturtevant, Dr. Megguier, 
Drs. West, Forbes, White, Whitfield, Trescott, 
Gihon, Franklin, Grover, Barstow, Gates, Shuler, 
Morgan, D. S. Smith, Parker, O'Brien, Morri- 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 283 

son, Pierce, Dr. Moore, and Dr. Miller, all in 
practice in San Francisco in the spring of '50. 
We do not remember the exact time when Dr. 
Dupuytren, Dr. Badarous, Doctors Cole, Whit- 
ney, Eckel, Toland, Sawyer, Bruner, Burgess, 
Fourgeaud, and other eminent men, came to this 
city, but we are confident that it was subse- 
quent to the spring of '50. 



284 MEN AND MEMORIES 



CHAPTER XXX. 

Whenever we go out on the Presidio road, or 
on the much traveled drive to the "Cliff," and 
reach that point of observation which takes in 
the abrupt shores forming the northern bound- 
ary of the "Golden Gate," the sight of those 
precipitous reddish-brown headlands, looking as 
if sliced off — split away by some Titan's axe — 
always puts us in a speculative vein — a wonder- 
ing mood — a wish to know when that mighty 
bulk of rock and mountain height was rent 
away from the Coast Range, permitting the pas- 
sage inland of the waves that had for ages 
chafed, and foamed, and fretted for admission. 
There is a kind of recent look about the cleft 
wall of the "Contra Costa" side of the har- 
bor's entrance — recent, geologically speaking; 
but we are no geologists. Hugh Miller could 
not, we imagine, possibly conceive of a human 
being, possessing an average intelligence, who 
knew so little of the earth's formation as we 
confess to ; but we have never looked over at 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 285 

the Marin shore without feeling more and more 
convinced that, in 1578-9, the salt ocean did 
not flow where we now see the white-winged 
messengers pass to and fro. We say 1578-9 
because, at that time, Sir Francis Drake — or, 
more correctly speaking. Captain Drake, at that 
time, afterward Sir Francis — wintered with his 
crew, at what is now known as Drake's Bay; 
and it is not probable that, if the harbor had 
been in existence then, he would not have taken 
possession, or at least explored it and given it a 
name. 

To those who say, "Oh, Drake passed it in 
the fog — navigators do it now, every month in 
the year in which fogs prevail,' ' we will reply 
that Captain Drake's log says: "We followed 
the shore on foot ^ southward, one hundred miles, 
etc.," describing the climate, soil, general ap- 
pearance, until they "came to a river flowing 
into the sea." Now, that river's outlet must 
have been some sixty miles south of San Fran- 
cisco's present location — that river poured the 
waters of the Sacramento and the San Joaquin 
into the Pacific. There might have been an 
inland lake, lying all the way where the Bay 
now stretches, from San Francisco's northern 
extremity to San Jose. It is more reasonable 
to believe that a great convulsion of Nature 



286 MEN AND MEMOEIES 

formed the Golden Gate since Drake was here, 
than that there was a harbor here then, and he 
did not discover it. Long after Drake's day 
came the great French navigator, La Perouse. 
He never found a harbor where we now see the 
heaving tide bearing the "richly freighted 
argosies." Nor did any one ever know or sus- 
pect its existence until about a century ago, 
when the Franciscan friars, traveling up from 
Mexico to found their missions still farther 
north, came upon the headlands at what is now 
known as Point Lobos, and looking down upon 
the leaping breakers on the Bar, saw that which 
no civilized man had ever before seen — the 
grandest harbor between Puget Sound and 
Cape Horn. We have always believed that the 
Franciscan friars were the discoverers of the 
Golden Gate ; that they were the first of civ- 
ilized men who looked upon the result of that 
awful convulsion which rent the mountains and 
sank them in the exulting ocean's mouth, 
whose foaming, trembling lip ceaselessly frets 
along the rocky shore, as if in hungry anticipa- 
tion of another greedy swallow out of the op- 
posing body of its natural enemy. As we look 
upon the huge fracture on the northern sea 
wall, built by Earth's architect, we can imagine 
the fearful throes of Mother Nature — the aw- 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 287 

ful subterranean thunders, the grinding of 
sunken rocks and roar of engulfing waters, the 
clouds of blinding dust, the wild flight of ter- 
rified birds, and dreadful consternation of every 
living thing within the scope of its paralyzing 
action. 

Always, as we look upon the swelling tide at 
the harbor's mouth, the ocean seems like some 
huge, breathing, conscious animal, panting yet 
with the pride of its achievement, but too un- 
wieldy and gigantic ever again to be composed 
and calm until the lapse of centuries. 

Often, in years gone by, we used to hear from 
the early settlers of the country adjacent to 
San Francisco (then " Yerba Buena" *) of a tra- 
dition among Indians that, many, many years 
ago, their forefathers went down from their 
homes above where we now live, to attend a 
great festival somewhere near the present site 
of Monterey — and that, while there, a terrible 
earthquake occurred. When they were return- 
ing to their homes, they found the old pathway 
abruptly ended at a jagged cliff, from whose pre- 
cipitous edge they gazed with wonder at a flow- 
ing sea beneath their feet; then turned and 
wound their toilsome way far round the Contra 

"Good Herb. " Yerba Buena," an aromatic herb growing at that 
time on the hills of the present city's site. 



288 MEN AND MEMORIES 

Costa side. "Never, since that day," says the 
legend, "has the Devil's Mountain (Monte 
Diablo) spit forth fire and smoke." 

The Farallones. — A little surf- washed and 
storm-beaten group of rocky islets; not large 
enough to be dignified by the term islands, yet 
standing so firm against the great Pacific Ocean's 
long swell, that, rising off the shores of Japan? 
never ceases until it leaps in snowy foam and 
thunders in angry rage against this sturdy little 
outpost of the great continent that bars its fur- 
ther progress. How few among the one hun- 
dred and seventy thousand — mas o menos — in- 
habitants, who every morning enjoy their regular 
coffee and Alta, have any idea of the Farrallones, 
within thirty miles of where they spin out their 
thread of life? How many dwellers in the 
Chrysopolis can tell you how many millions of 
dozen of murr's eggs have been taken from 
these rocky rookeries since the year 1849? How 
many are there who know the meaning of the 
word Farall ? Yelesquez' s Spanish dictionary 
says: Farallon — a cliff, a cape, a headland, a 
pointed island in the sea. Some have thought 
it meant the island of the Lion (Leone), Farall 
Leone. Some Spaniards say Farall is lantern, 
beacon, lighthouse. There is a gigantic mono- 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 289 

lith upon these rocks, with an immense, clean- 
cut, round hole, like the window, or light in 
a lantern, through which the setting sun glows 
with peculiar effect. Some say that from 
this the name is derived. The lighthouse 
beams its welcome beacon to the fog-bewildered 
mariner from the topmost point of these rocks 
now ; but it is not likely that any lanterns were 
ever hung there before, since the place was 
known to man, by land or sea. But it is not 
with the name that we have now to do — 'tis 
with the dwellers upon this lonely little out- 
post — the countless myriads of sea-birds — the 
Murre, or Muir, as it is vulgarly called — the 
" Uria Calif ornica,^ ' as classed by ornithologists. 
No description can give the reader any concep- 
tion of the numbers of these birds thronging 
this spot, perching upon every possible foothold, 
every projection where a lodgment can be 
obtained; crowding the pinnacles and ridges; 
squeezing into every hollow and aperture; in- 
numerable as blades of grass. In one place 
known as the Great Rookery — a hollow, or little 
valley — the birds are so densely packed that, 
save at the outskirts of the crowd, nothing but 
the heads of the birds can be seen. So closely 
do they crowd together, that their heads, in 
uniformity of size and color, seem like a vast 
19 



290 MEN AND MEMORIES 

bed of pebbles agitated by some subterranean 
commotion; and it is almost an impossibility 
for one of them to rise upon his wings or extri- 
cate himself from the entanglement, unless he 
be one of the outer ones. 

They live upon fish, and may be truly said to 
earn their living, as well as any of the hardy 
Italians who sally out in all weathers, and seem 
as industrious and fearless in capturing their 
prey, as the feathered dwellers of these little 
islets. The Murre's egg is rather larger than the 
ordinary hen's egg; of a dim, turquoise blue, 
spotted with black. They are rather strongly 
flavored, like all sea birds' eggs, but are not un- 
palatable, and are esteemed by some as superior 
in the making of cakes and pies. When the 
weather is calm and warm, and the lazy, glassy 
ocean slowly heaves, like the breathing of some 
gigantic, sentient being, the Murre basks quietly 
in the semi-tropical sun, sleepily enjoying the 
renewed vitality that the sun sends through 
every living thing; slowly blinking and raising 
their feathers in the fervid rays, with a half- 
uttered note of lazy comfort, recuperating for 
the bristling activity of the coming winds and 
dashing, foam-crested breakers. Then the Murre 
is in his element. When the long-sailing, 
weather-beaten ships look anxiously for the 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 291 

brave little pilot; when every craft — even the 
Italian fisherman — seeks the haven, then the 
Murre revels in undisturbed possession, and 
wildly screams his exultation as he dashes into 
the seething foam of the thundering breakers, 
wresting his finny prey from where no boat 
could live; disappearing in the roaring waters, 
and remaining so long submerged that the spec- 
tator, who watches his fearless dive, has long 
given him up for lost, when suddenly he rises 
above the commotion of water, poises an instant 
to shake the brine from his-, oily overcoat, then 
soars away with his food and the meal for his 
expectant fledglings, awaiting in some nook, 
crevice, fissure, niche, or projecting inequality, 
where a nest can hold two of those callow, auk 
bipeds. 

We gaze, and wonder if Drake and his men 
stood, in 1579, where we now stand, watching 
the whilom projectors of this busy colony; if 
the Farallones were here in the days of Queen 
Bess' favorite admiral, which we greatly doubt ; 
as Sir Francis' log says: "We hunted along 
the coast (on land) from our winter quarters 
(Drake's Bay), and found the coast to be," etc., 
etc., describing it; and, as Drake's Bay is only 
thirty miles north of the entrance of San Fran- 
cisco harbor, and he found no harbor, nor yet 



292 MEN AND MEMORIES 

the Farallones, it is very reasonable to believe 
that the convulsion of Nature which rent those 
dry, perpendicular, broken cliffs, on which we 
look as we ride along the southern head, came 
subsequent to Drake' s visit, or even that of La 
Perouse; and in that fearful hour the home of 
our feathered tribe rose, all dark and dripping, 
from the astonished Neptune's long embrace. 
Certainly this abrupt, little, solitary island 
could not have been overlooked by an explor- 
ing party passing an entire winter, only thirty 
miles away, where it is visible every clear day. 
No! on the whole, we think the birds' nests 
were not here in Sir Francis' s time. 

How curious are the many natural formations 
of rock : the little arches, the port-holes, bas- 
tions, niches, battlements, towers, walled sentry 
boxes ; that natural bridge, with its sharply de- 
fined crossway and high-sprung arch. See the 
crowd of birds on its railed edge. They stand 
so close and regular that, in the distance, they 
seem like some grass or vegetation growing 
there. What a singular effect is produced, as 
the snow-white breakers rush, roaring up the 
deep chasm, spanned by this firm bit of Nature's 
masonry; the leaping, seething foam hides the 
blue ocean, clear away to the horizon, giving to 
our vision only the sky above the flying, fleecy 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 293 

froth, chafing forever at the bridge' s immovable 
foundations — forever falling back, baffled and 
defeated, and still again returning, as Hope 
fights Fate, in useless, but in undying courage. 
It is good for the intermural dweller, whose 
life, actions and thoughts have been year after 
year bounded by the Pueblo limits, to come 
here, and with long, grateful inhalations of old 
Ocean's salty breath, expand the thoracic 
muscles, win fresh vitality and new ammuni- 
tion for the wasting tissues of his body, and, 
perchance, a healthful, introspective hour for 
the mental faculties, too often warped and dis- 
torted by long lingering "in the busy marts 
of men.' ' 



294 MEN AND MEMORIES 



CONCLUSION. 

•Many of the buildings of '49 and '50 are 
still standing in their original positions. We 
find most of them in the northern part of the 
city. Some of them show little, if any change, 
outwardly. Their time-worn, old fashion ap- 
pearance adds to their interest. Some of them 
are high up above the street-grade of to-day, 
perched upon cliffs, made by mortal hands — by 
political chicanery — to reward, by means of 
street contracts, the firm and faithful. Away up 
the long-reaching, repeated flights of stairs, 
where the old dwellings now stand, we used to 
walk along the natural grade. City surveys have 
not improved it, nor forced these faithful old 
homes to leave their premises. We cannot but 
rejoice in their tenacity — their firm adherence to 
the old spot, in spite of every scheme to oust and 
render them worthless. Sometimes we come 
upon one of the old, familiar dwellings, upon 
some street whose grade has not been changed — 
some old homestead, standing so unassumingly 



OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO. 295 

amid its pretentious, obtrusive neighbors, in their 
uniform of stucco-work ornamentation, and 
flashing plate glass, like files of nicely-decked 
soldiers on dress parade, and so completely 
changing all the old, once familiar ground, that, 
when we suddenly recognize our time-honored, 
old acquaintance, for the moment we are greatly 
puzzled to decide whether the mountain has 
come to Mohammed, or vice versa. Occasionally, 
in our peregrinations, we are startled by con- 
fronting, upon some newly-opened way in the 
sands beyond Market street, the well-known 
features of some once grand edifice, grown ven- 
erable in years of service on an old, central 
thoroughfare. A sense of the ludicrous close 
jostles our surprise, as if, led by impecuniosity 
to our uncle's office^ we came upon Ralston or 
Hayward, furtively concealing something, and 
trying to seem calmly indifferent. There is 
something touching in the sight of an old 
dwelling-house in San Francisco — old for this 
city, where the strange vicissitudes of many 
years of ordinary life are rolled in one. Their 
time-worn fronts seem like the pleasant faces 
of old friends. We love to look upon their 
vine-clad porches, so full of interesting remi- 
niscences — the sheltering, glazed verandas, 
along whose sounding floors in by-gone years 



296 MEN AND MEMORIES. 

pattered so many little feet — some treading now 
in the firm step of manhood, and others carried 
out, so still and white, through the old gate, long 
years ago, to rest forever. Those little window- 
panes have many times reflected the conflagra- 
tion' s lurid flames, and revealed the happier 
picture of the young wife's welcoming face, and 
smiles of curly-pate children. The green-gray 
roof, the low-ceiled rooms — each sanctified by 
its own history of joy or sorrow, of birth and 
death, and parting words and farewell kiss. 

We cling to everything of good belonging to 
the spring of '50. If we admit that change is 
progress, and that progress is improvement, 
' tis with a sigh that we confess it. With kind- 
ness in our hearts toward every one, we still 
remember those old words, "Old books to read, 
old wine to drink, old wood to burn, and old 
friends to talk with ; ' ' and we may be forgiven 
for clinging to the old associations and the men 
belonging to San Francisco in the Spring of '50.