The works of Hubert Howe Bancroft

University of California • Berkeley

The Peter and Rosell Harvey
Memorial Fund

THE WORKS

OF

HUBERT HOWE BANCROFT

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THE WORKS

\ sUROFT

VOLUME XXXIX

LITET^AT?v INDUSTKIES

SAN FRANCISCO

THE HISTORY COMPANY, PUBLISHERS

iS90

THE WORKS

OP

HUBERT HOWE BANCROFT

VOLUME XXXIX

LITEEARY INDUSTRIES

SAN FRANCISCO

THE HISTORY COMPANY, PUBLISHERS

1890

Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1890, by

HUBERT H. BANCROFT,
In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.

All Rights Resei-ved.

CONTENTS OF THIS VOLUME.

CHAPTER I. PAGE.

THE FIELD , o 1

CHAPTER n.

THE ATMOSPHERE o 12

CHAPTER III.

SPRINGS AND LITTLE BROOKS o . . ., o . 42

CHAPTER IV.

THE COUNTRY BOY BECOMES A BOOKSELLER . 89

CHAPTER V.

HAIL CALrFORNIA ! ESTO PERPETUA 120

CHAPTER VI.

THE HOUSE OF H. H. BANCROFT AND COMPANY 142

CHAPTER VII.

FROM BIBLIOPOLIST TO BIBLIOPHILE 168

CHAPTER VIII.

THE LIBRARY 198

CHAPTER IX.

DESPERATE ATTEMPTS AT GREAT THINGS ......... 218

(V)

vi CONTENTS.

CHAPTER X. PAGE.

A LITERARY WORKSHOP 230

CHAPTER XL

SOME OF MY ASSISTANTS ,. 245

CHAPTER XII.
MY rmST BOOK 277

CHAPTER XIII.

THE PERILS OF PUBLISHING 307

CHAPTER XIV.

A LITERARY PILGRIM •••• 326

CHAPTER XV.

THE TWO GENERALS ••... 365

CHAPTER XVI.

rrALIAN STRATEGY 383

CHAPTER XVIL

ALVARADO AND CASTRO 407

CHAPTER XVIII.

CLOSE OF THE CERRUTI-VALLEJO CAMPAIGN 428

CHAPTER XIX.

HOME 446

CHAPTER XX.

SAN FRANCISCO ARCHIVES 468

CHAPTER XXL

HISTORIC RESEARCHES IN THE SOUTH 478

CHAPTER XXIL

HISTORIC EXPLORATIONS NORTHWARD 530

CONTENTS. vu

CHAPTER XXIIL page.

FUBTHEB LIBRARY DETAIL ••.. 562

CHAPTER XXIV.

MY METHOD OF WiHTING HISTORY • • • • 692

CHAPTER XXV.

FURTHER INGATHERINGS .. '»••. 6l8

CHAPTER XXVI.

PRELIMINARY AND SUPPLEMENTAL VOLUMES 650

CHAPTER XXVII.

BODY AND MIND 664

CHAPTER XXVIII.

EXPEDITIONS TO MEXICO 700

CHAPTER XXIX.

TOWARD THE END 752

CHAPTEH XXX.

BURNED OUTI •••. 769

CHAPTER XXXL

THE HISTORY COMPANY AND THE BANCROFT COMPANY 788

LITERARY INDUSTRIES,

CHAPTER I.

THE FIELD.

Which gives me
A more content in course of true delight
Thau to be thirsty after tottering honour,
Or tie my pleasvire up in silken bags,
To please the fool and death.

Pericles.

This volume closes the narrative portion of my
historical series ; there yet remains to be completed
the biographical section.

It is now over thirty years since I entered upon
the task to-day accomplished. During this period
my efforts have been continuous. Sickness and death
have made felt their presence; financial storms have
swept over the land, leaving ghastly scars; calamities
more or less severe have at various times called at
my door; yet have I never been wholly overwhelmed,
or reached a point where was forced upon me a cessa-
tion of library labors, even for a single day. Nor has
my work been irksome ; never have I lost interest
or enthusiasm; never have I regretted the consecra-
tion of my life to this cause, or felt that my abilities
might have been better employed in some one of the
great enterprises attending the material development
of this western world, or in accumulating property,
which was never a difficult thing for me to do. It
has been from first to last a labor of love, its im-
portance ever standing before me paramount to that
of any other undertaking in which I could engage,
while of this world's goods I have felt that I had

2 THE FIELD.

always my share, and have been ready to thank God
for the means necessary to carry forward my work to
its fall completion. And while keenly alive to my lack
of ability to perform the task as it ought to be done,
I have all the time been conscious that it were a thou-
sand times better it should be done as I could do it
than not at all.

What was this task ? It was first of all to save
to the world a mass of valuable human experiences,
which otherwise, in the hurry and scramble attend-
ing the securing of wealth, power, or place in this
new field of enterprise, would have dropped out
of existence. These experiences were all the more
valuable from the fact that they were new; the con-
ditions attending their origin and evolution never had
before existed in the history of mankind, and never
could occur ao^ain. There was here on this coast the
ringing-up of universal intelligence for a final display
of what man can do at his best, with all the powers
of the past united, and surrounded by conditions
such as had never before fallen to the lot of man to
enjoy.

Secondly, having secured to the race a vast amount
of valuable knowledge which otherwise would have
passed into oblivion, my next task was to extract
from this mass what would most interest people
in history and biography, to properly classify and
arrange the same, and then to write it out as a his-
torical series, in the form of clear and condensed
narrative, and so place within the reach of all this
gathered knowledge, which otherwise were as much
beyond the reach of the outside world as if it never
had been saved. Meanwhile the work of collect-
ing continued, while I erected a refuge of safety for
the final preservation of the library, in the form
of a fire-proof brick building on Valencia street, in
the city of San Francisco. Finally, it was deemed
necessary to add a biographical section to the history
proper, in order that the builders of the common-

INEXORABLE FATE. 3

wealths on this coast miofht have as full and fair
treatment as the work of their hands was receiving.

Not that the plan in all its completeness arose
in my mind as a whole in the first instance. Had
it so presented itself, and with no alternative, I
never should have had the courasre to undertake it.
It was because I was led on by my fate, following
blindly in paths where there was no returning, that I
finally became so lost in my labors that my only way
out was to finish them. Wherefore, although I am not
conscious of superstition in my nature, I cannot but
feel that in this f^reat work I was but the humble in-
strument of some power mightier than I, call it provi-
dence, fate, environment, or what you will. All the
originatings of essential ideas and acts connected with
the work grew out of the necessities of the case, and
were not in the main inventions of mine, as this volume
will show. That I should leave my home and friends at
the east and come to this coast an unsophisticated boy,
having in hand and mind the great purpose of secur-
ing to a series of commonwealths, destined to be sec-
ond in intelligence and importance to none the sun
has ever shone upon, more full and complete early
historical data than any government or people on earth
enjoy to-day, is not for a moment to be regarded as
the facts of the case. It was the vital expression of
a compelling energy.

Nor is it out of place, this referring of our
physical unfoldings to the undeterminable for expla-
nation, for it is only since the world has been so
plainly told that it sees somewhat of the action and
effect of environment. The individual entity, if it be
an intelligent, thinking entity, does not now imagine
itself either its own product or the exclusive product
of any other individual entity. The unthinking thing
acts and is acted on by universal regulation, passively,
unknowingly. Even the natural selections of progress
are made in accordance therewith, and seldom artifi-
cially or arbitrarily. Underlying all phenomena is
the absolute, the elemental source of vital knowledge;

4 THE FIELD.

and thus all the grand issues of life are referred back
to a matter of carbon and ammonia.

And now, while presenting here a history of my
history, an explanation of my life, its efforts and ac-
complishments, it is necessary first of all that there
should be established in the mind of the reader a good
and sufficient reason for the same. For in the absence
of such a reason, to whose existence the simple appear-
ino* of the book is ex hypothesi a declaration, then is the
author guilty of placing himself before the world in
the unenviable light of one who appears to think
more highly of himself and his labors than the world
thinks, or than the expressions and opinions of the
world would justify him in thinking.

In any of the departments of human activity, he
alone can reasonably ask to be heard who has some
new application of ideas; something to say which has
never been said before; or, if said before, then some-
thing which can be better said this second or twentieth
time. Within the last clause of this proposition
my efforts do not come. All ancient facts are well
recorded; all old ideas are already clothed in more
beautiful forms than are at my command. It there-
fore remains to be shown that my historical labors,
of which this volume is an exposition, come prop-
erly within the first of the categories. And this I
am confident will appear, namely, that I do not only
deal in new facts, but in little else; in fiicts broug-ht
out m this latter-day dispensation as a revelation of
development as marvellous in its origin and as magi-
cal in its results as any appearing upon the breaking
up of the great dark age preceding the world's un-
covering and enlightenment. Every glance westward
was met by a new ray of intelligence ; every drawn
breath of western air brought inspiration ; every step
taken was over an untried field; every experiment,
every thought, every aspiration and act were origi-
nal and individual; and the faithful recorder of the
events attendant thereunto, who must be at once

CLAIMS TO EXISTENCE. 5

poet and prophet of the new dispensation, had no
need of legendary lore, of grandfather's tales, or of
paths previously trodden.

And not only should be here established a proper
reason for the appearance of this volume, as the re-
sults of a life of earnest endeavor, but all its predeces-
sors should be reestablished in the good opinions of
the learned and intelligent world, of all who have so
fully and freely bestowed their praise in times past ;
for the two propositions must stand or fall together.
If my historical efforts have been superfluous or un-
necessary; if it were as well they had never been
undertaken, or little loss if blotted out of existence,
then, not only have they no right to exist, to cumber
the earth and occupy valuable room upon the shelves
of libraries, but this volume must be set down as
the product of mistaken zeal commensurate with the
ideas of the author in regard to the merit, original-
ity, and value claimed for the series. In a word, if
the work is nothing, the explanation is worse than
nothing; but if the work is worthy of its reputation,
as something individual, important, and incapable of
repetition or reproduction, then is this history and
description of it not only not inopportune or superflu-
ous, but it is a work which should be done, a work
imperatively demanded of the author as the right of
those whose kindness and sympathy have sustained
him in his lonoj and arduous undertakino^s.

The proposition stands thus: As the author's life
has been mainly devoted to this labor, and not his
alone but that of many others, and as the work has
been extensive and altogether different from any w^hich
has hitherto been accomplished in any other part of
the globe, it was thought that it might prove of inter-
est if he should present a report, setting forth what he
has accomplished and how he accomplished it. Com-
ing to this coast a boy, he has seen it transformed
from a wilderness into a garden of latter-day civiliza-
tion, vast areas between the mountains and the sea

6 THE FIELD.

which were at first pronounced valueless unfolding
into homes of refinement and progress. It would
therefore seem, that as upon the territory covered by
his work there is now being planted a civilization des-
tined in time to be superior to any now existing; and
as to coming millions, if not to those now here, every-
thing connected with the efforts of the builders of the
commonwealths on these shores will be of vital inter-
est— it seems not out of place to devote the last vol-
ume of his historical series, proper, to an account of
his labors in this field.

It was rather a slow process, as affairs are at pres-
ent progressing, that of belting the earth by Asiatic
and European civilization. Three thousand years, or
we might say four thousand, were occupied in making
the circuit now effected daily by the conscious light-
ning; three or four thousand years' in finding a path-
way now the thoroughfare of the nations. Half the
distance— that is, from the hypothetical cradle of this
civilization eastward to the Pacific and westward to
the Atlantic — was achieved at a comparatively early
period. The other half dragged its slow course along,
a light age and a dark age intervening, the work be-
ginning in earnest only after the inventions of gun-
powder, printing, and the mariner's compass, the last
permitting presumptuous man to traverse the several
seas of darkness. Even after Mediterranean navi-
gators had passed the Pillars of Hercules, and ven-
tured beyond the sight of land, several hundred years
elapsed before the other earth's end was permanently
attained by way of the east and the west on the Pa-
cific shores of America.

As the earth was thus disclosing its form and its
secrets, men began to talk and write about it, saying
much that was true and much that was false. First
among the records are the holy books of Asia; holy,
because their authors dwelt little on the things of
this world concerning which they knew little, while

GENESIS OF HISTORY. 7

they had much to say of other worlds of which they
knew nothing. Then came Homer, Herodotus, and
others, who wrote of the classic region on the central
sea and its inhabited skies; and who, because they
told more of truth, were pronounced profane. For
fifteen hundred years the Ptolemy ^geographies and
the standard cosmographies kept the world informed
of its progress, filling the blank places of the universe
from a fertile imagination. Following the works of
the wise men of Egypt, India, and China were a mul-
titude of histories and geographies by the scholars of
Greece, and Rome, and western Europe.

The finding of the cape of Good Hope route to
India, and the discovery and occupation of the west-
ern hemisphere, gave a mighty impulse to histories
of the world, and their several parts became rapidly
complete. Ail the grand episodes were written upon
and rewritten by men of genius, patient and pro-
found, and admiring thousands read the stories, be-
queathing them to their children. By the middle of
the nineteenth century there was scarcely a nation or
a civilized state on the globe whose history had not
been vividly portrayed, some of them many times.
That part of the north temperate zone, the illuminated
belt of human intelligence, where its new western end
looks across the Pacific to the ancient east, the last
spot occupied by European civilization, and the final
halting-place of westward-marching empire, was ob-
viously the least favored in this respect; while the
tropical plateaux adjoining, in their unpublished an-
nals, offered far more of interest to history than many
other parts of which far more had been written. A
hundred years before John Smith saw the spot on
which was planted Jamestown, or the English pil-
grims placed foot on the rock of Plymouth, thousands
from Spain had crossed the high sea, achieved mighty
conquests, seizing large portions of the two Americas
and placing under tribute their peoples. They had
built towns, worked mines, established plantations.

8 THE FIELD.

and solved many of the problems attending European
colonization in the New World. Yet, while the United
States of North America could spread before English
readers its history by a dozen respectable authors, the
states of Central America and Mexico could produce
comparatively few of their annals in English, and little
worthy their history even in the Spanish language.
Canada was better provided in this respect, as were
also several of the governments of South America.
Alaska belonged to Russia, and its history must come
through Russian channels. British Columbia still
looked toward England, but the beginning, aside from
the earliest coast voyages, was from Canada. Wash-
ington, Oregon, and the inland territory adjacent were
an acknowledged part of the United States, whose
acquisition from Mexico, in 1847, of the territory lying
between the parallels 32° and 42" left the ownership of
the coast essentially as it is to-day. Enticingly. stood
these Pacific states before the enlightened world, yet
neglected; for it is safe to say that there was no part
of the globe equal in historic interest and importance
to this western half of North America, includinof the
whole of Mexico and Central America, which at the
time had not its historical material in better shape,
and its history well written by one or more competent
persons. Before him who was able to achieve it, here,
of all purposes and places, lay The F'ield.

Midst the unfoldings of my fate, I found myself in
the year of 1856 in the newly Americanized and gold-
burnished country of California, in the city of San
Francisco, which stands on a narrow peninsula, about
midway between either extreme of the mighty stretch
of western earth's end seaboard, beside a bay un-
equalled by any along the whole seven thousand miles
of shore line, and unsurpassed as a harbor by any in
the world. Out of this circumstance, as from omnipo-
tent accident, sprang the Literary Industries of which
this volume is a record.

SIGNIFICANCE OF NATURE. 9

California was then a-weary. Young, strong, with
untouched, undreamed of resources a thousand-fold
more dazzling than any yet uncovered, with a million
matchless years before her during which to turn and
overturn the world's great centres of civilization, pene-
trate the mysteries of time, and bring to pass the
unknowable, she was a-weary, spiritless as a sick girl
after a brief and harmless dissipation, and suffering
from that txdium vitx which comes from excess.

Reaction after the flush times had fairly set in.
Agriculture had not yet assumed great importance;
still more insignificant were manufactures. Placer
mining returns had fallen from an ounce of gold to
half an ounce, then to a quarter of an ounce a day to
the digger; quartz mining was as ruinous as gambling.
Most of the merchants had already failed once, some
of them several times. As a rule they had begun busi-
ness on nothing, had conducted it recklessly, with large
profits expecting still larger, until, from overtrading,
from repeated fires and failures, they were awaking as
from a commercial delirium to find themselves bank-
rupt, and their credit and original opportunities alike
gone. A maladie die pays seized upon some, w4io there-
upon departed; others set about reforming their ideas
and liabits, and so began the battle of life anew.

There was little thought of mental culture at this
time, of refinement and literature, or even of great
wealth and luxury. The first dream was over of ships
laden with gold-dust and of palaces at convenient inter-
vals in various parts of the world, and humbler aspi-
rations claimed attention. Yet beneath the rufi^led
surface were the still, deep waters, which contained as
much of science and philosophy as the more boisterous
waves, commonly all that we regard of ocean.

Slowly as were unlocked to man the wealth and
mysteries of this Pacific seaboard, so will be the in-
tellectual possibilities of this cradle of the new civili-
zation. As a country once deemed unproductive can

10 THE FIELD.

now from its surplus feed other countries, so from
our intellectual products shall we some day feed the
nations. In the material wealth and beauty with
which nature has endowed this land we may find the
promise of the wealth and beauty of mind. The
metal-veined mountains are symbolic of the human
force that will shortly dwell beneath their shadows.
.And what should be the quality of the strength so
symbolized? Out of terrace parks rise these moun-
tains, lifting their granite fronts proudly into the
ambient air, their glittering crests sporting and
quarrelling with the clouds. Their ruggedness, now
toned by distance into soft coral hues, time will
smooth to nearer inspection, but even ages cannot
improve the halo thrown over slopes covering untold
milhoiis of mineral wealth by the blending of white
snow-fields with red-flushed foothills. In further
significance of aesthetics here to be unfolded we might
point to the valleys carpeted with variegated flowers,
golden purple and white, and whose hilly borders are
shaggy with gnarled trees and undergrowth; to
higher peaks, with their dense black forests, from
which shoot pinnacles of pine, like spires of the green
temple of God; to oak-shaded park lands, and islands
and shores with bright-leaved groves, and long blue
headlands of hills sheltering quiet bays; to dreamy,
soft, voluptuous valleys, and plains glowing in sum-
mer as from hidden fire, their primitive aspect already
modified by man; to the lonely grandeur of craggy
cliffs bathed in blue air, and deep gorges in the foot-
hills seamed with fissures and veiled in purple mists;
to winds rolling in from the ocean leaden fog-banks,
and beating into clouds of white smoke the powdered
flakes of snowclad summits, and sending them in whirl-
winds to the milder temperatures below ; to lakes and
watercourses lighted by the morning sun into lumi-
nous haze; to summers radiant in sunshine, to winters
smiling in tears; to misty moonlights and clarified
noondays; to the vapor-charged elliptic arch that

CIVILIZATION'S HALTING-GROUND. 11

bathes the landscape with reflected light; to the pun-
gent ocean air and the balsamic odor of canons; to
these, and ten thousand other beauties of plain and
sierra, sky and sea, which still encompass secrets of
as mighty import to the race as any hitherto brought
to the understanding of man.

Civilization as the stronger element supplants sav-
agism, drives it from the more favored spots of earth,
and enters in to occupy. The aspects of nature
have no less influence on the distribution or migrations
of civilized peoples than upon indigenous unfoldings.
It is a fact no. less unaccountable than pleasing to
contemplate, that these western shores of North
America should have been so long reserved, that a
land so well adapted to cosmopolitan occupation, which
has a counterpart for all that can be found in other
lands, which has so little that is objectionable to any,
which presents so many of the beauties of other climes
and so few of their asperities — that so favorable a
spot, the last of temperate earth, should have been
held unoccupied so long, and then that it should have
been settled in such a way, the only possible way it
would seem for the full and immediate accomplishment
of its high destiny — I say, though pleasing to con-
template, it is passing strange. Here the chronic emi-
grant must rest; there is for him no farther west.
From its Asiatic cradle westward round the antipodes,
to the very threshold of its source, civilization has
ever been steady and constant on the march, leaving
in its track the expended energies of dead nations
unconsciously dropped into dream-land. A worn-out
world is reanimated as it slowly wanders toward the
setting sun. Constantinople shrivels, and San Fran-
cisco springs into being. Shall the dead activities
of primordial peoples ever revive, or their exhausted
soil be ever re-created and worked by new nations'?
If not, when our latest and last west is dead, in what
direction lies the hope of the world ?

CHAPTER 11.

THE ATMOSPHERE.

The true, great want is of an atmosphere of sympathy in intellectual aims.
An artist can afford to be poor, but not to be companionless. It is not well
that he should feel pressing on him, in addition to his own doubt whether he
can achieve a certain work, the weight of the public doubt whether it be
worth achieving. No man can live entirely on his own ideal.

Jlir/ginson.

Often^ during the progress of my literary labors
questions have arisen as to the influence of California
climate and society on the present and future develop-
ment of letters. Charles Nordhofl* said to me one
day at his villa on the Hudson, ^'The strangest part
of it is how you ever came to embark in such a labor.
The atmosphere of California is so foreign to literary
pursuits, the minds of the people so much more intent
on gold-getting and society pleasures than on intel-
lectual culture and the investigation of historical or
abstract subjects, that your isolation must have been
severe. I could not help feeling this keenly myself,"
continued my entertainer, " while on your coast.
With a host of friends ready to do everything in
their power to serve me, I was in reality without
companionship, without that broad and generous sym-
pathy which characterizes men of letters everywhere;
so that it amazes me to find a product like yours ger-
minating and developing in such a soil and such a
climate."

While it was true, I replied, that no great attempts
were made in the field of letters in California, and
while comparatively few of the people were specially
interested in literature or literary men, yet I had
never experienced the feeling of which he spoke.

ISOLATION AXD APPRECIATION. 13

My mother used to say that she never felt lonely
in her life; and yet she was most companionable, and
enjoyed society as much as any one I ever knew.
But her heart was so single and pure, her mind so
clear, intelligent, and free, that to commune with her
heart, and allow her mind to feed on its own intel-
ligence, filled to the full the measure of her soul's re-
quirements. A healthy cultivated mind never can be
lonely; all the universe is its companion. Yet it may
be alone, and may feel that aloneness, that natural
craving for companionship, of which it is not good for
man long to remain deprived. Though for different
reasons, I can say with her that I never have ex-
perienced loneliness in my labors. If ever alone it
was in an atmosphere of dead forms and convention-
alisms crushing to my nature, and where something
was expected of me other than I had to give. Thus
have I been lonely for my work, but not in it.
Once engaged, all else was forgotten; as the sub-
lime Jean Paul Richter expresses it, "Ein Gelehr-
ter hat keine lange Weile." Nor can I truly say
that I have ever felt any lack of appreciation on
the part of the people of California. As a matter
of fact, my mind has had little time to dwell on
such things. What chiefly has concerned me these
twenty or thirty years has been, not what people
were thinking of me and of my efforts, but how I
could best and most thoroughly perform my task. I
have never stopped to consider whether my labors
were appreciated by my neighbors, or whether they
knew aught of them, or concerned themselves there-
with. I have never felt isolation or self-abnegation.
To be free, free in mind and body, free of business,
of society, free from interruptions and weariness, these
have been my chief concern.

True, I could not overlook the fact that in the
midst of many warm friends, and surrounded by a
host of hearty well-wishers, my motives were not
fully understood nor my work appreciated. Had it

14 THE ATMOSPHERE.

been otherwise I should not entertain a very high
opinion of either. If that which engaged me, body
and soul, was not above the average aspiration, or
even execution, there was nothing flattering in the
thought, and I had better not dwell upon it. I was
an individual worker, and my task was individual;
and I solaced myself with the reflection that the
ablest and most intelligent men manifested most in-
terest in the work. I had never expected very wide
recognition or appreciation, and I always had more
than I deemed my due. Surely I could find no fault
with the people of the Pacific coast for attending to
their business, each according to his interest or taste,
while I followed what best pleased me. Further than
this, I did not regard my fate as resting wholly in
their hands; for unless I could gain the approval of
leading men of letters throughout the world, of those
wholly disinterested and most competent to judge, my
eflbrts in my own eyes would prove a failure. Thus,
from the outset, I learned to look on myself and the
work, not as products of California, or of America,
but of the world; therefore isolation signified only
retirement, for which I felt most thankful.

Perhaps men of letters are too critical; sensitive
as a rule they always have been, though less so
than men in some other professions. Hawthorne
complained of a lack of sympathy during twelve
years of his young manhood, in which he failed to
make the slightest impression on the public mind,
so that he found '' no incitement to literary eflbrt
in a reasonable prospect of reputation or profit;
nothing but the pleasure itself of composition — an
enjoyment not at all amiss in its way, and perhaps
essential to the merit of the work in hand, but which,
in the long run, w^ill hardly keep the chill out of the
writer's heart or the numbness out of his fingers." It
is scarcely to be expected that the unappreciative
masses should be deeply interested in such work.
And as regards the more intelligent, each as a rule

THE CULTURE OF LETTERS. 15

has sometliing specially commanding his attention,
which being of paramount interest to himself, he
naturally expects it to command the attention of
others. He who makes the finest beer or brandy,
or builds the largest house, or fills the grandest
church, or sports the largest stud of horses, holds
himself as much an object of consideration as he
who engages in important literary work. The atten-
tion of the great heedless public will invariably
be caught by that which most easily and instantly
interests them, by that which most easily and in-
stantly can be measured by big round dollars, or by
pleasures which they appreciate and covet.

I can truthfully say that from the very first I have
been more than satisfied with the recognition my
fellow-citizens of California have given my attempts
at authorship. If, by reason of preoccupation or other
cause, their minds have not absorbed historical and
literary subjects as mine has done, it is perhaps for-
tunate for them. Indeed, of what is called the cul-
ture of letters there was none during my working
days in California. The few attempts made to achieve
literature met a fate but little superior to that of a
third-rate poet in Home in the time of Juvenal.

Peoples rapidly change; but what shall we say
when so esteemed a writer as Grace Greenwood adds
to the social a physical cause why literature in Cali-
fornia should not prosper? ''I really cannot see,"
she writes, '' how this coast can ever make a great
record in scientific discoveries and attainments, and
the loftier walks of literature — can ever raise great
students, authors, and artists of its own. Leaving
out of consideration the fast and furious rate of busi-
ness enterprise, and the maelstrom-like force of the
spirit of speculation, of gambling, on a mighty, mag-
nificent sweep, I cannot see how, in a country so
enticingly picturesque, where three hundred days out
of every year invite you forth into the open air with
bright beguilements and soft blandishments, any con-

16 THE ATMOSPHERE.

siderable number of sensible, healthy men and women
can ever be brought to buckle down to study of the
hardest, most persistent sort; to ^poring over miser-
able books'; to brooding over theories and incubating
inventions. California is not wanting in admirable
educational enterprises, originated and engineered by
able men and fine scholars; and there is any amount
of a certain sort of brain stimulus in the atmosphere.
She will always produce brilliant men and women of
society, wits, and ready speakers; but I do not think
she will ever be the rival of bleak little Massachusetts
or stony old Connecticut in thorough culture, in the
production of classical scholars, great jurists, theo-
logians, historians, and reformers. The conditions of
life are too easy. East winds, snows, and rocks are
the grim allies of serious thought and plodding re-
search, of tough brain and strong wills."

On the other hand, the author of Greater Britain,
after speaking of the weirdly peaked or flattened hills,
the new skies, and birds, and plants, and the warm
crisp air, unlike any in the world but those of South
Australia, thinks ''it will be strange if the Pacific
coast does not produce a new school of Saxon poets,"
affirming that ''painters it has already given to the
world." " For myself," exclaims Bayard Taylor, " in
breathing an air sweeter than that which first caught
the honeyed words of Plato, in looking upon lovelier
vales than those of Tempe and Eurotas, in v/andering
through a land whose sentinel peak of Shasta far
overtops the Olympian throne of Jupiter, I could not
but feel that nature must be false to her promise, or
man is not the splendid creature he once was, if the
art, the literature, and philosophy of ancient Greece
are not one day rivalled on this last of inhabited
shores !" Mr John S. Hittell thinks that "California
has made a beginning in the establishment of a local
literature, but that her writers were nearly all born
elsewhere, though they were impelled to it l3y our in-
tellectual atmosphere;" by which latter phrase I un-

OPINIONS OF AUTHORS. 17

derstand the writer to mean an atmosphere that
excites to intellectual activity rather than a social
atmosphere breathing the breath of letters.

''What effect the physical climate of California
may have on literary instincts and literary efforts,"
says Walter M. Fisher, ''I am afraid it would be pre-
mature, from our present data, exactly to say or
predict. Its general Laodicean equability, summer
and winter through, may tend to a monotony of
tension unfavorable to that class of poetic mind de-
veloped in and fed by the fierce extremes of storm or
utter calm, of fervent summers, or frosts like those of
Niffelheim. It is generally held, however, that the
mildness of the Athenian climate had much to do
with the 'sweet reasonableness' of her culture, and it
is usual to find a more rugged and less artistic spirit
inhabit the muses of the Norse zone; while the lilies
and languors of the tropics are doubtfully productive
of anything above the grade of pure 'sensuous cater-
wauling.' Following this very fanciful line of thought
the Golden State should rejuvenate the glories of the
City of the Violet Crown and become the alma mater
of the universe. As to the effects of the social
climate of California on literary aspiration and effort,
little that is favorable can be said for the present,
little that is unfavorable should be feared from the
future. California pere is a parvenu, making money,
fighting his way into society, having no time or taste
for studying anytliing save the news of the day and
perhaps an occasional work of broad humor. It is
for his heir, California /t/.9, to be a gentleman of leisure
and wear ' literary frills.' For the present, a taste in
that direction is simply not understood, though it is
tolerated, as the worship of any strange god is. The
orthodox god of the hour is Plutus: sanctiis, sanctus,
sanctiis, dominus deus sahaoth: exaltai cornu populi
sui: selah! All this, however, is but for a moment.
Let us put our fancy apocalyptically, after the fashion
of Dr Gumming : ' And the first beast was like a lion,

Lit. Ind. 2

18 THE ATMOSPHERE.

and the second beast was like a calf, and the third
beast had a face as a man, and the fourth beast was
like a flying eagle !' California past, present, and to
come. The lion-hearts of reckless '49 are cold. The
golden calf bestrides the land, belittling man. To-
morrow they will make it a beast of burden, not a
god. And when the lion's heart is joined to riches,
and riches to pure manhood, and manhood to a high
and far-reaching culture in letters, and science, and
art, then no symbol of eagle eye or eagle wing will be
unapt to the sunward progress of the state."

Returning east from the Pacific coast in 1882,
Oscar Wilde reported: ''California is an Italy with-
out its art. There are subjects for the artists; but it
is universally true, the only scenery which inspires
utterance is that which man feels himself the master
of. The mountains of California are so gigantic that
they are not favorable to art or poetry. The scenery
for definite utterance is that which man is lord of.
There are good poets in England, but none in Switzer-
land. There the mountains are too high. Art cannot
add to nature."

So might we go on with what twenty or fifty others
have imagined regarding the effect of social and
physical surroundings on literature and art in Cali-
fornia or elsewhere, and be little the wiser for it all.
With the first coming to Oregon of divinely appointed
New England propagandists, books began to be
written which should tell to the east what the un-
revealed west contained. And this writing continued
and will continue as long as there are men and women
who fancy that knowledge as it first comes to them
first comes to the world.

We may fully recognize the mighty power of en-
vironment without being able to analyze it. As
Goldoni observes, ''II mondo e un bel libro, ma poco
serve a chi non lo sa leggere;" and as Hegel says,
"nature should not be rated too high nor too low.
The mild Ionic sky certainly contributed much to the

TOWN AND COUNTRY. 19

charm of the Homeric poems, yet this alone can pro-
duce no Homer." While literature is an increment
of social intelligence and the resultant of social prog-
ress, it is certainly influenced through the mind of man
by climate and scenery, by accident and locality, which
act both positively and negatively, partly in harmony,
partly in antagonism. Some atmospheres seem to
absorb the subtile substance of the brain ; others feed
the mental powers and stimulate them to their utmost
capabilities.

The idyllic picture of his life at Scillus, as pre-
sented by Xenophon, not wholly in the bustling world
nor yet beyond it, is most charming. Sophocles re-
tired from busy Athens to lovely Colonus. Horace
in gay luxurious Rome renounced wealth and social
distinction, preferring few friendships and those of
the purest and best— -Msecenas, Virgil, Varius — pre-
ferring pleasures more refined, and which might be
bought only by temperance in all things, and content-
ment, that content which abhors the lust of gain and
the gnawing disquietudes of social envy.

Msecenas loved the noisy streets of Rome, but
Horace doted on his little Sabine farm, the gift of
his devoted friend. It was there in free and undis-
turbed thought he found that leisure so necessary
to his soul's health. Yet sometimes he felt the need
of the capital's bustle and the stimulus of society,
and then aofain he lonsfed for the stillness of the
country, so that his ambling mule was kept in exer-
cise carrying him forth and back. The gentle satirist
puts words of ridicule into the mouth of his servant
Davus, ridicule of the author himself, and his rhap-
sodies of town and country.

"At Rome you for the country sigh;
When in the country, to the sky
You, flighty as the thistle's down,
Are always crying up the town."

Dugald Stewart clung to his quiet home; Scott

20 THE ATMOSPHERE.

found repose among his antiquated folios; but Jeffreys
disdained literary retirement, and sought comfort in
much company. Pope loved his lawn at Twickenham,
and Wordsworth the solitude of Grasmere. Heine,
cramped in his narrow Paris quarters, sighed for trees.
Dr Arnold hated Rugby, but, said he, ''it is very
inspiring to write with such a view before one's eyes
as that from our drawing-room at Allen Bank, where
the trees of the shrubbery gradually run up into the
trees of the cliff, and the mountain-side, with its infi-
nite variety of rocky peaks and points, upon which
the cattle expatiate, rises over the tops of the trees."
Galileo and Cowper thought the country especially
conducive to intellectual culture ; Mr Buckle preferred
the city, while Tycho Brahe, and the brothers Hum-
boldt, with shrewder wisdom, established themselves
in suburban quarters near a city, where they might
command the advantages and escape the inconven-
iences of both.

Exquisite, odd, timidly bold, and sweetly misan-
thropic Charles Lamb could 'not endure the glare of
nature, and so must needs hide himself between the
brick walls of busy London, where he lived alone
with his sister, shrinking alike from enemy and
friend. ''To him," says a biographer, "the tide of
human life that flowed through Fleet street and Lud-
gate Hill was worth all the Wyes and Yarrows in
the universe; there were to his thinking no green
lanes to compare with Fetter Lane or St Bride's; no
garden like Covent Garden; and the singing of all
the feathered tribes of the air grated harsh discord in
his ear, attuned as it was only to the drone or the
squall of the London ballad-singer, the grinding of
the hand-organ, and the nondescript London cries, set
to their cart-wheel accompaniment." And Dr John-
son, too, loved dingy, dirty Fleet street and smoky
Pall Mall above any freshness or beauty nature could
afford in the country. " Sir," he says, after his usual
sententious fashion, " when you have seen one green

THE PHILOSOPHY OF CHANGE. 21

field you have seen all green fields. Sir, I like to
look upon men. Let us walk down Cheapside."

How different had been the culture of Goethe, less
diversified, perhaps, but deeper, if instead of the busy
old Frankfort city his life had been spent in the rural
districts. What would Dickens have been, confined
for life to the mountains of Switzerland? or Ruskin,
shut between the dingy walls of London ? No St
John would find heaven in the New York of to-day ;
nor need Dante, in the California Inferno of 'forty-
nine, have gone beneath the surface to find hell. A
desultory genius is apt to be led away by city life
and bustle; a bashful genius is too likely, in the
country, to bury himself from necessary society and
knowledge of the world; a healthy genius finds the
greatest benefit in spending a portion of the time in
both city and country. Blindness seems often an
aid rather than a drawback to imao^inative writino^.
Democritus is said to have even made himself blind
in order the better to learn; and it w^as only when
the light of the world was shut from the eyes of
Milton that the heavenly light broke forth in the
Paradise Lost.

Thus we find that different conditions best suit
different temperaments. Some enjoy scenery, others
care little for it; some prefer the country, others the
city. To many, while ardently loving nature, and
having no predilection for coal smoke and the rattle
of vehicles, being wholly absorbed during active occu-
pation, time and place are nothuig. Scenery, other
than the scenery within, has little to do with true work.
If not called to consciousness by some external agent,
the absorbed worker hardly knows or cares whether he
occupies a tent in the wilderness or a parlor in the city.
Nothino: can exceed the satisfaction, if indeed conofe-
nial and comfortable, of a room in a country cottage,
where the student may spread his books upon the floor,
shut out superfluous light, and when weary, step at
once into the warm glowing sunshine to stretch his

22 THE ATMOSPHERE.

limbs and smoke a cigar. On the whole, the country
offers superior advantages, but more on account of
freedom from interruption than any other cause.

Change, almost always beneficial, to many is essen-
tial. Often many a one with an exquisite sense of
relief escapes from the din and clatter of the city, and
the harassing anxieties of business, to the soft sensuous
quiet of the country, with its hazy light, aromatic air,
and sweet songs of birds. Thus freed for a time from
killing care, and reposing in delicious reverie in some
sequestered nook, thought is liberated, sweeps the
universe, and looks its maker in the face. Sky, hill,
and plain are all instinct with eloquence. And best
of all, the shelter there ; no one to molest. All day,
and all night, and the morrow, secure. No buzzing
of business about one's ears; no curious callers nor
stupid philosophers to entertain. Safe with the
world walled out, and heaven opening above and
around. Then ere loner the bliss becomes tame ; the
voluptuous breath of nature palls, her beauties be-
come monotonous, the rested energies ache for want
of exercise, and with Socrates the inconstant one ex-
claims, "Trees and fields tell me nothing; men are
my teachers ! "

Yet, after all, the city only absorbs men, it does not
create them. Intellect at its inception, like forest-
trees, must have soil, sunshine, and air; afterward it
may be worked into divers mechanisms, comfortable
homes, and tough ships. The city consumes mind
as it consumes beef and potatoes, and must be con-
stantly replenished from the country, otherwise life
there exhausts itself. Its atmosphere, physically and
morally deleterious from smoke and dust and oft-
repeated breathings, from the perspirations of lust
and the miasmatic vapors arising from sink-holes
of vice, exercises a baneful influence on the young
poetic soul, as do the stimulating excesses of business
and polished life. The passions of humanity con-
centrated in masses, like ill cured hay in the stack,

MmOR SURROUNDINGS. 23

putrefy and send forth, in place of the sweet odor of
new-mown grass, a humid, musty smell, precursor
of innumerable fetid products. In the country the
affections harmonize more with nature, engender purer
thoughts, and develop lovelier forms than in the
callous-shouldered unsympathetic crowds of a city.

A life in closets and cloisters leads to one-sided
fixedness of ideas. Yet, though retirement often pro-
duces eccentricity, it likewise promotes originality.
But for his dislike for general society Shelley would
have been a commonplace thinker. To thoughtful,
sensitive natures, retirement is absolutely essential.
Every man must follow his own bent in this respect.
Method is good in all things, but it is perhaps better
to be without method than to be the slave of it. Dis-
tance from the object dwelt upon often lends clear-
ness to thought. Distinctly audible are the solemn
strokes of the town clock beyond the limits of the
village, though near at hand they may be drowned by
the hum of the moving multitude.

There are minor conditions peculiar to individual
writers which stimulate or retard intellectual labor.
There is the lazy man of genius, like Hazlitt, who
never writes till driven to it by hunger; unless, indeed,
bursting with some subject, he throws it off on paper
to find relief Hensius says: "I no sooner come into
the library but I bolt the door to me, excluding
lust, ambition, avarice, and all such vices whose nurse
is idleness, the mother of ignorance and melancholy.
In the very lap of eternity, amongst so many divine
souls, I take my seat with so lofty a spirit and
sweet content, that I pity all our great ones and
rich men that know not this happiness." Rooms are
frequently mentioned. If favorable surroundings are
so necessary, what shall we say of the great works
engendered under unfavorable conditions? But for
the imprisonment of Cervantes, who can tell if ever the
world would have known the inimitable Don Quixote
and his servant Sancho? Bunyan's grand allegory

24 THE ATMOSPHERE.

was likewise a prison plant, with the Bible and Fox's
Martyrs as the author's library of reference. The
studios of artists are usually remarkable for nothing
but their plain or slovenly appearance, dusty walls, with
cobwebbed corners, and floor ar.d furniture smeared
with paint. Leslie and Turner both painted in very
plain rooms. Gustavo Dorc's studio was furnished
with nothing but easels, a ^^lain table, and two cheap
chairs. Goethe's study was exceedingly plain. Scott
could compose very well in the sitting-room, surrounded
by his family, but of all the elegant apartments at
Abbotsford he preferred a small, plain, quiet room in
which to Avrite. In the main, while it makes little
difference to the head whether the feet rest on an
Axminster carpet or on rough boards, everything
else being equal, a plain room is preferable to one
elegantly furnished. Plain, hard, practical furniture
seems best to harmonize with plain, hard, practical
thought. Writing: is not the soft, langjuid reverie
that luxurious fittincrs and furnishino-s suo'u'cst: it is
the hardest and most wearing of occupations, and it
seems a mockery, when the temples throb and the
bones ache, for the eye to meet at every turn only
invitations to idleness and ease. It strikes a discord
and jars the sensibilities when the lifted eyes meet
objects more beautiful and graceful than the flow of
thought or the product of the overworked brain.
A plain table, a cane-bottomed chair, and good writ-
ing materials are the best. So much for immediate
surroundings.

To the critics previously quoted I would say that
it is folly sweepingly to assert of this or that strip of
temperate zone that it is physically conducive to the
growth of letters or otherwise. Variety of food, of
scenery, of entertainment is the essential need of the
mind. As for the stone fences and east winds of Mrs
Lippincott, I never knew them to be specially stimu-
lating to brain work; no better, at all events, than

SCENERY AND CLIMATE. 25

the sand and fog of San Francisco, or the north
winds and alternate reigns of fire and water in the
valley of California. If to become a scholar it re-
quires no discipline or self-denial greater than to
withstand the allurements of her bewitching climate,
Cahfornia shall not lack scholars. When most rav-
ished by the charms of nature many students find it
most difficult to tear themselves from work. Invigor-
ating air and bright sunshine, purple hills, misty
mountains, and sparkling waters may be enticing,
but they are also inspiring.

Where were bleak Massachusetts and stony Con-
necticut when Athens, and Kome, and Alexandria
flourished? If barrenness and stones are more con-
ducive to literature, the Skye Islands may claim to
be the best place for notable men of letters. I can
hardly believe that unless culture is beaten into us
by scowling nature we must forever remain savages.
Oxygen is ox3^gen, whether it vitalizes mind on the
Atlantic or on the Pacific seaboard; and to the
student of steady nerves, absorbed in his labors, it
matters little whether his window overlooks a park
or a precipice. If I remember rightly the country
about Stratford- on -Avon is not particularly rugged,
neither is London remarkable for picturesque scenery.
And surely there can be little in the climate of Cali-
fornia antagonistic to intellectual attainments. In
San Francisco there is no incompatibility, that I
can discover, between philosophic insight and sand-
hills. On the other hand, throughout the length
and breadth of these ^Pacific States there are thou-
sands of elements stimulating to mental activity.
If the mountains of California are too gigantic for
Mr Wilde's present art, may not man's capabilities
some day rise to meet the emergency? May not
intellect and art become gigantic?

Agassiz insists that the climate of Europe is more
favorable to literary labors than that of America.
This I do not believe; but, if admitted, California is

26 THE ATMOSPHERE.

better than Massachusetts, for the chmate of Cali-
fornia is European rather than eastern. It is a
thinking air, this of CaUfornia, if such a thing exists
outside of the imagination of sentimentahsts; an air
that generates and stimulates ideas; a dry elastic air,
strong, subtile, and serene. It has often been noticed
in going back and forth across the continent ; and may
be safely asserted that one can do more and better
work in California than in the east. At the same
time another might prefer the eastern extremes of
heat and cold. The temperature of the Pacific slope
is slightly raised, the thermal lines bending northward
as they cross the Rocky mountains. Extreme cold
we never have, except on alpine altitudes. On the
seaboard the atmosphere throughout the entire year
is uniform, cool, and bracing. There is little difference
between summer and winter, between night and day;
one can here work all the time. Indeed, so stimu-
lating and changeless is this ocean air that men are
constantly lured to longer efforts than they can en-
dure, and a sudden breaking up of health or a softened
brain is in many instances the end of excessive and
prolonged labor. In the east men are driven from
their work by the heat of summer, and the cold of
winter compels some to rest; here, while nature rests,
that is during the dry season, man can labor as well
as at any other time, but when driven on by ambition
or competition he is almost sure to lay upon his body
and mind more than they can long endure.

I do not think there is anything in the climate that
absorbs strength unduly, or that breaks up the con-
stitution earlier than elsewhere ; the system wears out
and falls to pieces. If this happens earlier in life
than it ought, the cause is to be found in continuous
and restless application, and not in the climate. Ante-
auriferous Californians uniformly attained a ripe age ;
in many cases four, five, and six score years being
reached after bringing into the world from fifteen to
twenty-five children. In the interior, during the

INFLUENCE OF WEALTH. 27

rains of winter, the climate is similar to that of the
coast — fresh and bracing; in summer the air is hot
and dry during the day, but cool and refreshing at
night. A moist hot climate is enervating; if the air
under a vertical sun is dry the effect of the heat is
much less unfavorable. In the warm valleys of the
Coast range students can work without discomfort
from morning till night throughout the entire sum-
mer, while in the east, the temperature being the same,
or even lower, they would be completely prostrated.
Yet, from the whirling rapidity of our progress, the
friction of the machinery wears heavily upon the
system. There is little danger for the present of
rusting out, with such an exhilarating climate to feed
energy, and such cunning ingenuity to direct it.
Extremes, the bane of humanity, are here as nicely
balanced as in the classic centres of the Old World.
Excessive heat and cold, humidity and dryness, re-
dundancy and sterility, are so far uncommon as not to
interfere with progress.

With reference to the oft-repeated objections against
the pursuit of wealth because of its influence on letters,
much may be said. From necessary labor, and from
the honorable and praiseworthy enterprise incident
to life and independence, to an avaricious pursuit
of wealth for the sake of wealth, the progress is so hn-
perceptible and the change so unconscious that few
are able to realize it. And if they were, it would
make no difference. All nature covets power. Beasts,
and men, and gods, all place others under them so far as
they are able ; and those so subordinated, whether by
fair words, fraud, or violence, will forever after bow
their adoration. Money is an embodiment of power :
therefore all men covet money. Most men desire it
with an inordinate craving wholly beyond its true
and relative value. This craving fills their being to
the exclusion of higher, nobler, and what would be to
them, if admitted, happier sentiments. This is the

28 THE ATMOSPHERE.

rule the world over; the passion is no stronger in
California than in many other places. But it has
here its peculiarities. Society under its present regivie
was begun on a gold-gathering basis. In the history
of the world there never was founded so important a
commonwealth on a skeleton so exclusively metallic.
Most of the colonial attempts of Asia and Europe have
been made partly with the object of religion, empire,
agriculture, commerce. It is true that these avowed
objects were often little more than pretences, money
lying at the root of all; yet even the pretence was
better in some respects than the bald, hard-visaged
fact. But during the earlier epoch in California's
history three hundred thousand men and women came
hither from various parts of the world with no other
object, entertained or expressed, than to obtain gold and
carry it away with them. Traditionary and conven-
tional restraints they left at home. They would get
money now, and attend to other things at another
time. Nor has the yellow ghost of this monetary
ideal ever wholly abandoned the San Francisco sand-
hills; some have secured the substance, but all round
the Californian amphitheatre, since 1849, penniless
misers have been hugging, not gold, but the empty
expectation of it.

Some degree of wealth in a community is essential
to the culture of letters. Where all must work con-
stantly for bread the hope of literature is small. On
the other hand excess of wealth may be an evil. The
sudden and enormous accumulation of wealth exer-
cises a most baneful influence. Brave indeed must
be the struggles that overcome the allurements of
luxury, the subtle, sensuous influence of wealth, enter-
ing as it does the domains alike of intellect and the
affections, commanding nature, expanding art, and
fining enlarged capacities for enjoyment. Yet he who
would attain the highest must shake from him these
entrancing fetters, if ever fortune lays them on him,
and stand forth absolutely a free man. Poor as was

THE IRONY OF ACCUMULATION. 29

Jean Paul Richter, he deemed his burden of poverty
less hard for genius to bear than the comparative
wealth of Goethe.

Drop in upon a man given body and soul to busi-
ness, a man who has already a thousand times more
than ever he will rightly use; visit him in his hours
of business; he calls his time precious, and knits his
brow at you if the interruption lasts. His time
is precious? Yes. How much is it worth? Fifty
dollars, five hundred dollars an hour. How much
are fifty or five hundred dollars worth? Go to, blind
maggots! Will you not presently have millions of
years of leisure? Oh wise rich man, oh noble mind
and aspiration, to measure moments by money!

The remedy lies in the disease. Excess of avarice
that sinks society so low, nauseates. Thus the right-
minded man will argue : If Plutus is always to re-
main a pig in intellect and culture, is alwa3^s to be
a worshipful pig, the only adorable of his fellow-pigs,
to his marble-stepped gilded sty with him and his
moDcy. I'll none of him. God and this bright uni-
verse beaminix with intellio^ence and love; mind that
lifts me up, and makes me a reasoning creature, and
tells me what I am, witliholding not the sweet per-
fume thrown round me by the flowers of unfolding
knowledge; immortal soul, breathing upon mind the
divine breath; and its mortal casement, the body,
limited to a few short days of this blessed sunlight,
of drinking in soft, sweet air and nature's many melo-
dies— these will not let me sink. The commercial or
mechanical plodder again will say: What are these
pitiful thousands, or tens or hundreds of thousands,
which by a lifetime of faithful toil and economy I
have succeeded in getting together, when men infinitely
my inferior in ability, intellect, and culture, by a lucky
stroke of fortune make their millions in a month?
Surely money is no longer the measure of intelligent
industry ; it is becoming a common and less creditable
thing : I'll worship it no longer. Even envy is baffled,

30 THE ATMOSPHERE.

overreached. These many and mammoth fortunes
made by stock-gambhng and railway manipulations so
overshadow and belittle legitimate efforts that accu-
mulators are constrained to pause and consider what
is the right and destiny of all this, and to begin com-
parisons between material wealth beyond a competency
and that wealth of mind which alone elevates and
ennobles man.

Midas of the ass's ears is dead, choked on gold
given him by offended deities; but Midas of the ser-
pent, Midas of the slimy way, still lives, and is among
us, sapping our industries, monopolizing our products,
glutting himself with the hard-earned gold of our work-
inof men and women. Let him take warnino^: let him
go bathe in Pactolus and cleanse himself withal.

The time will surely come in California when some
will surfeit of wealth and hold the money struggle
in contempt. They will tire of the harpies of avarice
who snatch from them the mind-food for which they
pine, even as the fabled harpies snatched from the
luxury- loving monarch Prester John the food for
which his body hungered. This western spurt of
enterprise is a century- step backward in certain kinds
of culture.

San Francisco has absorbed well-nigh all that is left
of the Inferno. Take the country at large, and since
the youthful fire that first flashed in our cities and
canons California in some respects has degenerated.
Avarice is a good flint on which to strike the metal
of our minds, but it yields no steady flame. The hope
of sudden gain excites the passions, whets the brain,
and rouses the energies; but when the effort is over,
whether successful or otherwise, the mind sinks into
comparative listlessness. It must have some healthier
pabulum than cupidity, or it starves. The quality of
our Californian mind to-day may be seen displayed in
our churches and in the newspaper press. The most
intellectual and refined of our pulpit orators are not
always the most popular. Clerical jolly -good-fellow-

PREACHING AND TEACHING. 31

ship covers barrels of pulpit stupidity, and is no less
effectual in the formation and guidance of large flocks
than it is agreeable to the shepherd. Hard study,
broad views of life and the times, thorough investi-
gation of the mighty enginery that is now driving
mankind so rapidly forward materially and intel-
lectually, deep and impartial inquiry into the origin
and tendency of things, do not characterize clergymen
as a class. There are, however, some noble exceptions
in California as well as elsewhere ; but there must be
many more if Christians would retain their hold on
the minds of men, and stay the many thinking per-
sons who are dropping off from their accustomed
places in the sanctuary.

One other influence adverse to the higher intellectual
life I will mention, and that is promiscuous reading —
not necessarily so-called light reading, for there are
works of fiction in the hisfhest deofree beneficial,
more so than many a true narrative; but reading in
which there is neither healthful amusement nor valu-
able instruction. There is too much reading of books,
far too much reading of newspapers and magazines,
for the highest good of exact knowledge, too much
pedagogic cramming and windy sermonizing, too little
practical thought, too little study of nature, too little
cultivation of germ -intelligence, of those inherent
natural qualities which feed civilization.

There is a vast difference between what is called
deep thinking and right thinking. Thought may dive
deep into Stygian lakes, into opaque pools of super-
stition, so that the deeper it goes the farther will be
the remove from intellectual clearness or moral worth.
What to the heathen are the profound reveries of
the Christian? what to the Christian the mytlis and
doctrines of the heathen? A mind may be talented,
learned, devoted, and yet unable to find the pearls
of the sea of Cortes in the brackish waters of the
Utahs. One may be blind, yet honest; purblind, yet

32 THE ATMOSPHERE.

profound. It is a mistaken idea that clear convic-
tions spring from deep thinking. Decided opinions are
oftener the result of ignorance than of right thinking.
Particularly is this true in regard to the super-
natural and unknowable. Here clear thinking tends
to unsettle pronounced opinion, while study, research,
profound learning and deep thinking only sink the
inquirer into lower depths of conviction, which may
be false or true, not as investigation is profound, but
as it is rightly directed. Impartiality is essential to
right thinking; but how can the mind be impartial upon
a question predetermined ? Right thinking comes only
where love of truth rises above love of self, of country,
of tradition. Convictions, so called, arising from the
exercise of will power are not convictions, but merely
expressions of will power. Of such are the rank
weeds of prejudice overspreading the fertile fields
of literature, politics, and religion. Deep thinking
is subtile and cunning; right thinking simple and in-
genuous. The surface thoughts of clear, practical,
uncultivated common-sense often lie nearer the truth
than the subtilties of the schools. Intellect and edu-
cation may create profound thinkers, but not always
right thinkers. Absolute freedom from prejudice and
absolute indifference as to the ultimates attained b}^
freedom of thought are impossible, but the nearer an
inquiring mind approaches this condition the more
ready it is to receive unadulterated truth; and truth
alone, irrespective of hopes and fears, is the only ob-
ject of healthy thought. In study, to every height,
there is a beyond; round every height a border of
opaque blue, and to clear thinking direction is more
than distance.

Pure unadulterated truth is not palatable to the
popular mind. In politics we would rather believe
the opposition all corruption, and our own party all
purity, than to believe the truth. In religion we
would rather believe ours the only road to heaven,
and all those who differ from us doomed to a sure

EFFECT OF NEWSPAPERS. 33

eternal perdition. In society we enjoy sweet scandal
far more than honest fairness; and if we could drive
our unfortunate brothers and sisters, all of them
about whose skirts are the odors of vice — if we could
drive the vicious, with hateful ways, and all those
who differ from us as to the best mode of extermi-
nating vice, down to the depths of despair, it would
suit our temper better than manfully to recognize the
good there is in Lucifer, and lift up those that have
fallen through no special fault of their own.

Newspapers have become a necessity to our civili-
zation, and though they are bad masters they are
good and indispensable servants. As a messenger of
intelligence; as a stimulant to industry and knowl-
edge— though not as knowledge ; as an instrument for
the enlargement of intellectual vision, enabling it to
belt the earth and take in at one view all interests
and civilizations; as promoting toleration in opinions,
breaking down prejudice, and keeping alive the inter-
ests of individuals and nations in each other; as a
terror to evil-doers, a lash held over political hounds —
too often the only one they fear, without which our
present liberal system of government could not stand ;
and as the exponent of current thought and culture,
the newspaper is indispensable. The newspaper is
no evil, but there is such a thing as reading it too
much. When deeply absorbed in work the true stu-
dent will not look at a journal for weeks, preferring
rather to let his mind pursue its course day after day
without being disturbed by passing events. "Among
modern books avoid magazine and review literature,"
is Ruskin's advice; yet magazines and reviews are
much more instructive reading as a rule than news-
papers. In moderation they are beneficial to the
student, being the media which bring the world as
guests to his closet and keep from him the evil of
solitude.

We may safely say that in the hands of honest and
independent men, an untrammelled press is the very

Lit. Ind. 3

34 THE ATMOSPHERE.

bulwark of society; in the hands even of men un-
sainted, who are not immaculate in their morals nor
above reproach, of men no more honest than the times
admit, who talk much of the virtue and of the purity
of their sheet, but nevertheless love lucre — in the
hands even of these the public press is a power in-
dispensable to liberty and social safety.

Most writers and speakers are unfair in contro-
versy. Newspapers are specially so. As a rule, in
political affairs they do not expect to be believed by
any but their own party. In matters of public inter-
est or utility, what is printed must first be strained
through the colander of self-interest before it can
be allowed to go forth. This self-interest is a beam in
the editor's eye which hides the largest fact likely to
interfere with it.

The editor of a popular monthly will tell you that
the reading of periodicals does not interfere with
thorough systematic study. He will say that there
never were more books bought and read than now;
that transient literature excites a taste for studv, and
that science and progress are fostered and stimulated
by newspapers. All of this may be true, and yet
the assertion hold good that he who spends much
time in skimming the frothy political decoctions of
the ephemeral press never can reach the profounder
depths of science and philosophy. Nine tenths of
w4iat is printed in newspapers consists of speculations
on what may or may not happen. By waiting we can
know the result, if it be worth knowing, without
wasting time in following it through all the incipient
stages.

But this is not the worst of it. Editorial com-
ments on people, parties, and passing events are
seldom sincere. There is too often some ulterior in-
fluence at work, some object in view other than that
of simply and honestly benefiting their readers, minis-
tering to their intellectual necessities, and giving them
the highest possible standard of right, irrespective of

INSINCERITY. 35

prejudice, popularity, or gain. Too often is public
opinion palpably and absurdly in error; and too often
the editor combats or pampers public opinion, not in
accordance with what he believes to be right, but
accordinof to the direction in which his interest lies.
Frequently a policy is marked out, and, right or wrong,
it must be maintained. The journal must be con-
sistent with itself at all hazards, truth and justice
to the contrary notwithstanding. The modern Bo-
hemian will write up or down either side of any party
creed or principle with equal willingness and facility.
It Avould be deemed presumption for an employe of
the press to attempt to change the traditions of the
journal that employs him. Says Noah Porter, ''the
modern newspaper, so far as it is insincere, is immoral
and demoralizing." If a newspaper fails fully and
unequivocally to correct an error as soon as known;
if carried away by partisan temper or tactics it states
a fact unfairly, tells part of the truth and keeps back
part; if it indulges in the vilification of an unpopular
though not guilty person ; if for the sake of money, or
pride, or hatred, it advocates a cause knowing it to be
contrary to public weal; if honest convictions are
subordinated to popularity or the interests of the
journal; if it resorts to devices and sensational reports
in order to call attention to its columns, and thereby
increase its importance and circulation, then is it in-
sincere, and consequently immoral. Few approach
even a fairly commendable standard; but then books
are often as bad. What shall we say of a history of
Christianity written by a bigoted churchman, or a
history of America by a strong partisan, or an at-
tempt to establish a scientific theory or hypothesis
when facts are collected on one side only? These
are not history and science, but only pleas for one
side of the question. As from the days of Patristic
discussion to the present time theologians have
deemed it necessary to keep back all the truths of
God not consistent with their dogmas, so writers for

36 THE ATMOSPHERE.

money will send forth nothing to the confusion of
their deity.

Lies, humbug, hypocrisy: these are what the
people want and will buy; and such being the case,
they are what our honorable journalists are bound to
furnish. Nor should I be disposed to censure them
severely if they would honestly own to their charla-
tanism, and not make foul the air by their professions
of honesty and integrity, for the chief fault is with
the people who demand such villainous literature.
With an old English divine the journalists may say,
"It is hard to maintain truth, but still harder to be
maintained by it;" or as La Fontaine more tersely
puts it, " Tout faiseur de journaux doit tribut au
Malin;" all editors of newspapers pay tribute to the
devil. '

Waves of opinion roll over the community, and
reason is powerless to check them. Not until they
have spent themselves, one after another, do men take
the trouble to consider their good or evil effects.
The cunning journalist lets his boat ride these waves,
well knowing the impolicy of any attempt to buffet
them.

That the editor's life is hard no one for a mo-
ment doubts. '' Consider his leading articles," says
Carlyle, "what they treat of, how passably they are
done. Straw that has been threshed a hundred times
without wheat; ephemeral sound of a sound; such
portent of the hour as all men have seen a hundred
times turn out inane; how a man, with merely
human faculty, buckles himself nightly with new
vigor and interest to this threshed straw, nightly gets
up new thunder about it; and so goes on threshing
and thundering for a considerable series of years; this
is a fact remaining still to be accounted for in human
physiology. The vitality of man is great." Of all
kinds of literary labor, writing for newspapers is the
best paid, pecuniarily, partly because that class of
literature is bought and read by the people at large,

EFFECT ON THE POPULAR MIND. 37

and partly in consequence of the impersonality of the
writer, whose productions bring him little pleasure or
gratified vanity.

Taken as a whole, and as it is, the effect of the
newspaper press on the mental temperament of the
United States is to excite rather than instruct.
The morbid appetite with which men and their
families devour scandal and the squabbles of politi-
cians is not favorable to wholesome literature.
There may be entertainment in criminal trials, in
columns of editorial vituperation, in details and dis-
cussions on insignificant and local events, but there is
little instruction. Some of the ill effects arising from
an inordinate reading of newspapers are to lower the
intellectual tone, to influence the reader to shirk the
responsibility of independent thought, to receive
information in the shape of garbled and one-sided
statements, to attach undue importance to novel and
sensational events, to magnify and distort the present
at the expense of the past, to dwarf abstract concep-
tion, and to occupy time which might be better em-
ployed.

" The greatest evil of newspapers, in their effect on
intellectual life," says Hamerton, ''is the enormous
importance they are obliged to attach to mere novelty.
From the intellectual point of view, it is of no conse-
quence whether a thought occurred twenty-two cen-
turies ago to Aristotle or yesterday evening to Mr
Charles Darwin; and it is one of the distinctive marks
of the truly intellectual to be able to take a hearty
interest in all truth, independently of the date of its
discovery. The emphasis given by newspapers to
novelty exhibits things in wrong relations, as the
lantern shows you what is nearest at the cost of
making the general landscape appear darker by the
contrast." Auguste Comte not only religiously ab-
stained from newspapers, but from holding conversa-
tion with men of ordinary intellect.

Newspapers are not intended to educate so much

38 THE ATMOSPHERE.

as to enlighten; giving only the current gossip of the
day throughout the world, they do not pretend to
carry their readers through a course of study. The
events recorded by the ephemeral press are most of
them forgotten as soon as read; they leave nothing to
enrich the mind. I do not say that it is better not to
read at all than to read periodical literature. Maga-
zines and newspapers are undoubtedly doing as much
in their way to break down the black walls of igno-
rance and stupidity, and to advance science and exact
knowledge, as books, and perhaps more. The world
is kept alive, is kept charged with electrical progress-
ive energy, by newspapers, telegraphs, and railroads,
but these are neither history, nor science, nor any
other' part of serious study.

There is as much original thinking in California, in
proportion to the population, I venture to assert, as
anywhere else on the globe; yet even here what worlds
of empty words for atoms of inspiration! What we
want is a thinking-school for teachers, for learners, for
writers, for readers, and for all who cultivate or ex-
press opinion. More than in most places, public
opinion here rules the press instead of being ruled
by it. There is here more life and activity in the
newspaper press than in most older communities.
Since the gold-discovery there have been published
on this coast more newspapers in proportion to the
population than the world has ever before seen.

Half a century ago, when one weekly journal was
considered sufficient for that kind of intellectual re-
quirement, the members of a household having books
at its command were more thoroughly trained in litera-
ture and general knowledge than now. He who reads
only newspapers never can be generally intelligent,
not to say learned. The culture of the early Greeks
has in some respects never been equalled. What
must have been the mental condition of a people
whose masses could delight in^schylus? American
masses think Shakespeare's tragedies dry and severe;

THE PEOPLE TO BLAME. 33

with their superlative beauties and their simple plots,
they are too difficult for their untrained minds to fol-
low. Yet ^schylus, which an Athenian of ordinary
intelligence enjoyed at the first hearing, is as much
more difficult of appreciation than Shakespeare as
Shakespeare is more difficult than a dime novel. In
what lay the mental superiority of the Athenians in
this direction, unless it was that, being less trammelled
with the multiplicity of exciting interests and events,
such as an undue study of the newspaper fosters,
their minds were occupied with purer learning? The
Athenian had few books and few models, but these
were of great excellence.

The newspaper is blamed because its readers like
disgraceful scandals, highly wrought accounts of de-
falcations, suicides, conjugal infidelity, and murders;
and because to them the records of virtue are tame
and vice alone is spicy. This is foJly. Everybody
knows that a newspaper is published to make money,
and the proprietor is no more to be censured for
adopting the profitable course than the prostitute,
the politician, the clergyman, or the man of merchan-
dise. Here, as everywhere, when evil stalks abroad
the people are ready to blame any but themselves,
who are alone to blame. Women will be as virtuous as
men permit them to be, and not more so. Theatres
will produce such spectacles as the public wish most,
and will pay most, to see. Books or newspapers will
be moral or immoral, honest or dishonest, as the
people are moral and honest. To see in any commu-
nity a vulgar mendacious sheet with a large circula-
tion is sure evidence that a large part of the people
are low and lying. The fastness of our fast life is
increased tenfold by the newspapers. They keep the
minds of men and women in a constant ferment,
and create a morbid appetite, which, as it is indulged,
settles into a fixed habit, so that to sit down to study,
to the steady perusal of history, or science, or any
book which will really improve the mind, is not to be

40 THE ATMOSPHERE.

thought of when three or four unread newspapers and
magazines he upon the table filled with the doings of
the day, political battles, local quarrels, and scandal,
with flaunting essays for the mother, flashy poems for
the sentimental daughter, and unhealthy tales for the
aspiring youth.

The beneficial influence of intelligent homes should
be extended in order to eradicate the evils of omnivo-
rous reading. Home and contentment are in them-
selves elements of intellectual strength. The home of
the provident man is more than a well built and
furnished house; it is to wife and children a daily
oblation significant of his being and doing. The house,
and all its belongings, rooms, furniture, pictures, and
books, bear upon them his own stamp, breathe upon
him their sympathy, tender him a mute farewell when
he goes, and welcome him when he returns.

In reviewing the effect of California social atmos-
phere on intellectual culture we should glance at the
body social, its origin and its destiny, the character
of the first comers, the cause of their coming, the
apprenticeship to which they were subjected on their
arrival, and finally the triumph of the good and the
confusion of the evil. It was no pilgrim band, these
gold -seeking emigrants, fleeing from persecution; it
w^as not a conquest for dominion or territory; nor
was it a missionary enterprise, nor a theoretical
republic. It was a stampede of the nations, a hurried
gathering in a magnificent wilderness for purposes
of immediate gain by mining for gold, and was un-
precedented in the annals of the race. Knowing all
this as we now do; knowing the metal these men
were made of, the calibre of their minds, the fiery
furnace of experience through which they passed;
knowing what they are, what they have done, w^hat
they are doing, is it not idle to ask if men like these,
or the sons of such men, can achieve literature ? They
can do anything. They halt not at any obstacle sur-

CALIFORNIA^ CHARACTER. 41

mountable by man. They pause discomfited only upon
the threshold of the unknowable and the impossible.
The literary atmosphere of which we speak is not here
to-day ; but hither the winds from the remotest corners
of the earth are wafting it; all knowledge and all
human activities are placed under contribution, and
out of this alembic of universal knowledo^e will in due
time be distilled the fine gold of Letters.

CHAPTER III.

SPRINGS AND LITTLE BROOKS.

On fait presque ton jours les grandes choses sans savoir comment on lea
fait, et on est tout surpris qu'on les a faites. Demandez a Cesar comment il
se rendit le maitre du monde ; peut-etre ne vous repondra-t-il pas ais6ment.

Fontenelle.

Sermonize as we may on fields and atmospheres,
internal agencies and environment, at the end of life
we know little more of the influences that moulded
us than at the beginning. Without rudder or com-
pass our bark is sent forth on the stormy sea, and
although we fancy we know our present haven, the
trackless path by which we came hither we cannot
retrace. The record of a life written — what is it?
Between the lines are characters invisible which
might tell us something could we translate them.
They might tell us something of those ancient riddles,
origin and destiny, free-will and necessity, discussed
under various names by learned men through the
centuries, and all without having penetrated one
hair's breadth into the mystery, all without having
gained any knowledge of the subject not possessed by
men primeval. In this mighty and universal straining
to fathom the unknowable, Plato, the philosophic
Greek, seems to succeed no better than Moncacht
Ape, the philosophic savage.

This much progress, however, has been made;
there are men now living who admit that they know
nothing about such matters; that after a lifetime of
study and meditation the eyes of the brightest intel-
lect can see beyond the sky no farther than those of

ORIGIN AND DESTINY. 43

the most unlearned dolt. And they are the strongest
who acknowledge their weakness in this regard; they
are the wisest who confess their ignorance. Even the
ancients understood this, though by the mouth of
Terentius they put the proposition a little differently :
'' Faciunt nse intelligendo, ut nihil intelligant;" by too
much knowledge men bring it about that they know
nothing. Confining our investigations to the walks
of literature, surely one would think genius might tell
something of itself, something of its inceptions and
inspirations. But what says genius? " They ask me,"
complains Goethe of the perplexed critics who sought
in vain the moral design of his play, "what idea I
wished to incorporate with my Faust. Can I know
it? Or, if I know, can I put it into words?" A similar
retort was made by Sheridan Knowles to a question
by Douglas Jerrold, who asked the explanation of a
certain unintelligible incident in the plot of The
HunchbacJc. "■ My dear boy," said Knowles, '' upon my
word I can't tell you. Plots write themselves."

Why we are what we are, and not some other
person or thing; why we do as we do, turning hither
instead of thither, are problems which will be solved
only with the great and universal exposition. And
yet there is little that seems strange to us in our
movements. Things appear wonderful as they are
unfamiliar; in the unknown and unfathomed we think
we see God; but is anything known or fathomed?
Who shall measure mind, we say, or paint the soul, or
rend the veil that separates eternity and time? Yet,
do we but think of it, everything relating to mankind
and the universe is strange, tl^e spring that moves the
mind of man not more than the mechanism on which
it presses. " How wonderful is death!" says Shelley;
but surely not more wonderful than life or intellect
which brings us consciousness. We see the youth's
bleached body carried to the grave, and wonder at
the absence of that life so lately animating it, and
question what it is, whence it came, and whither it

44 SPRINGS AND LITTLE BROOKS.

has flown. We call to mind whatever there may have
been in that youth's nature of promise or of singular
excellence; but the common actions of the youth, the
while he lived, we deem accountable, and pass them
by because of our familiarity with like acts in others.
We see nations rise and die, worlds form and crumble,
and wonder at the universe unfolding, but the minutiae
of evolution, the proximate little things that day by day
go to make up the great ones, we think we understand,
and wonder at them not at all. It was regarded an
easy matter a century ago to define a mineral, plant,
or animal, but he is a bold man indeed who attempts
to-day to tell what these things are. Then, as now,
only that was strange which people acknowledged
they did not understand; and as there was little which
they would voluntarily throw into that category, each
referring unknowable phenomena to his own peculiar
superstition for solution, there was comparatively little
in the universe wonderful to them.

Therefore, not wishing to be classed among the
ignorant and doltish of by- gone ages, but rather
among this wise generation, in answer to that part of
Mr NordhofF's wonderings why I left business and
embarked in literature, I say I cannot tell. Ask the
mother why she so lovingly nurses her little one,
watching with tender solicitude its growth to youth
and manhood^ only to send it forth weaned, perhaps
indifferent or ungrateful, to accomplish its destiny.
Literature is my love, a love sprung from my brain,
no less my child than the offspring of my body. In
its conception and birth is present the parental in-
stinct, in its cultivation and development the parental
care, in its results the parental anxiety. There are
those, says Hammerton, "who are urged toward the
intellectual life by irresistible instincts, as water- fowl
are urged to an aquatic life. ... If a man has got
high mental culture during his passage through life,
it is of little consequence where he acquired it, or
how. The school of the intellectual man is the place

CAUSATIONS. 45

where he happens to be, and his teachers are the
people, books, animals, plants, stones, and earth round
about him."

There are millions of causes, then, why we are what
we are, and when we can enumerate but a few score
of them we rightly say we do not know. In my own
case, that I was born in central Ohio rather than in
Oahu is one cause; that my ancestors were of that
stern puritan stock that delighted in self-denial and
effective well-doing, sparing none, and least of all
themselves, in their rigid proselyting zeal, is another
cause; the hills and vales around my home, the woods
and meadows through which I roamed, my daily
tasks — no pretence alone of work — that were the be-
ginning of a life-long practice of mental and muscular
gymnastics, were causes; every opening of the eye,
every wave of nature's inspiration, was a cause. And
thus it ever is. Every ray of sunshine thrown upon
our path, every shower that waters our efforts, every
storm that toughens our sinews, swells the influence
that makes us what we are. The lights and shades of
a single day color one's whole existence. There is no
drop of dew, no breath of air, no shore, no sea, no
heavenly star, but writes its influence on our destiny.
In the morning of life the infant sleeps into strength,
and while he sleeps are planted the seeds of his fate;
for weal or woe are planted the fig-tree and the thorn-
tree, fair flowers and noisome weeds. Then are born
cravings for qualities and forms of existence, high
aspirations and debasing appetites; the poetic, the
sacred, the sublime, and love^ and longings, are there
in their incipiency; hate, and all the influences for
evil mingling with the rest. Wrapped in the mys-
terious enfoldings of fate are these innumerable
springs of thought and action, for the most part dor-
mant till wakened by the sunshine and storm wherein
they bask and battle to the end.

And later in the life of the man, of the nation, or

46 SPRINGS AND LITTLE BROOKS.

the eTolution of a principle, how frequenfcly insignifi-
cant is the only appearing cause of mighty change.
Mohammed, a tradesman's clerk, was constrained to
marry his mistress and turn prophet, and therefrom
arose a power which wellnigh overwhelmed Christen-
dom. Luther's sleep was troubled with impish dreams,
and his waking hours with the presence of papal in-
dulgences, from which results of indigestion, brain op-
pression, or extrinsic pressure of progress, the church
was shorn of a good share of its authority. Frog
soup was one day in 1790 prescribed as a suitable diet
for a lady of Bologna, Signora Galvani; and but for
this homely incident the existence of what we call
galvanism might not have been discovered to this day.
Joseph Smith's revelation put into his hands the
metal-plated book of Mormon, though unfortunately
for his followers it was some three centuries late in
appearing.

Lucian's first occupation was making gods, a busi-
ness quite extensively indulged in by all men of all
ages — making deities and demolishing them; carving
them in wood, or out of airy nothings, and then set-
ting them a-fighting. Lucian used to cut Mercuries
out of marble in his uncle's workshop. Thence he
descended to humbler undertakings, learned to write,
and finally handled the gods somewhat roughly. Thus
with him the one occupation followed closely on the
other. Thomas Hood's father was a bookseller, and
his uncle an engraver. Disgusted first with a mer-
cantile and afterward with a mechanical occupation,
Hood took to verse-making, and finally abandoned
himself wholly to literature. And there is at least
one instance where a young scribbler, Planche, re-
solved to be a bookseller so that he mio^ht have the
opportunity of publishing his own works; in accord-
ance with which determination he apprenticed him-
self, though shortly afterward, not finding in^ the
connection the benefits imagined, he took to play-
acting and writing. An author of genius sometimes

FAMILY HISTORY. 47

rises into notice by striking accidentally the key-note
of popular fancy or prejudice which sounds his fame.
Until Sam Weller, a character which genius alone
could construct, was brought before the world, the
Pickwick Pcipers, then and for five months previous
issued by Chapman and Hall as a serial, was a failure.
John Stuart Mill claims to have been not above the
average boy or girl in natural mind powers, but
credits his talents to his father's superior manage-
ment of his youth; indeed, until so told by his father
he was not aware that he knew more than other boys,
or was more thoughtful, intelligent, or learned, and
accepted the information as a fact rather than a com-
pliment. And so we might study life's mosaic forever,
here and there finding — though more frequently not —
what appears the immediate agency that wrought in
us the love of letters, or any other love. In my own
case I may further surmise with Sir Thomas Browne
that I w^as born in the planetary hour of Saturn,
and was ever after held a victim to his leaden sway,
by which pernicious influence the stream of my life
was perverted from plain honest gold-getting into
the quicksands of literature.

My father was born in Massachusetts; his father's
great -great -grandfather, John Bancroft, came from
London in the ship James in 1632. My father's great-
great -grandparents were Nathaniel and Ruth Ban-
croft, whose son Samuel was born July 8, 1711,
and died July 6, 1788. Sarah White was Samuel's
wife; and their son Samuel, my father's grandfather,
was born at West Springfield, Massachusetts, April
22, 1737. His father, Azariah' Bancroft, the eldest of
nine children, was born in Granville, Massachusetts,
April 13, 1768; and on the 25th of January, 1799, my
father was born in Granville, the fourth in a family
of eleven. His great -grandparents removed to
Granville, Massachusetts, in 1738, when Samuel
Bancroft was a year old — the first settlers coming to

48 SPRINGS AND LITTLE BROOKS.

Granville the year he was born. In the book entitled
A. Golden Wedding my father says : '' My recol-
lections of my grandfather are vivid and pleasant.
He was a tall, thin, voluble old gentleman, fond of
company, jokes, and anecdotes. He served in the
French and Indian war, and afterward in the Revo-
lutionary war with the rank of lieutenant. He was
paid off in continental money, receiving it in sheets,
which he never cut apart. He was very fond of re-
lating incidents of the war, and was never happier
than when surrounded by old comrades and neigh-
bors, talking over different campaigns, with a mug
of cider warminof before the fire." 'Slim-legs' he w^as
called by the soldiers. He married Elizabeth Spel-
man, and died January 2, 1820.

From my grandfather, Azariah Bancroft, who
married Tabitha, daughter of Gerard Pratt, and from
the wife of the latter, sometime called Dorcas Ashley,
my father derived his name Azariah Ashley. This
Gerard Pratt was quite a character, and displayed
enough peculiarities, which were not affected, to en-
title his name to be placed on the roll of great men
or men of genius. For example, constantly in season
and out of season he wore his hat, a broad -brimmed
quakerish-looking affair, although he was no quaker.
It was the last article of apparel to be removed at
night, when he placed it on the bedpost, the first
to be put on in the morning when he arose, and it
was removed during the day only when he asked
the blessing at table, which was done standing, and
during that time he held it in his hand, replacing
it before beginning to eat. Half a mile from the old
town of Granville, Massachusetts, lived these great-
grand-parents of mine, on two acres of good garden
land, with a small orchard in which were six famous
seek -no -farther apple-trees, reserved from the old
family farm, afterward owned by their son-in-law,
James Barlow. They were aged and infirm when my
father, then a small boy, came every year to help his

OLD GRAIsrV' ILLE. 49

grandfather dig and store his potatoes, and gather
and sell his apples, the fine seek-no-farthers readily
bringing a cent apiece by the dozen. His grand-
mother met her death from an accident at ninety-five.
A mile and a half from this Pratt farm lived my
grandfather Bancroft, a man of good judgment, active
in light open-air work, though not of sound health,
for he was afflicted with asthma. My grandmother
was a woman of great endurance, tall and slender,
with a facility for accomplishing work which was a
marvel to her neighbors. " She did not possess great
physical force," says my father in his journal, ''but
managed to accomplish no inconsiderable work in
rearing a large family, and providing both for their
temporal and spiritual wants — clothing them accord-
ing to the custom of the time with the wool and flax
of her own spinning. The raw material entered the
house from the farm, and never left it except as
warm durable garments upon the backs of its inmates.
The fabric was quite good, as good at least as that of
our neighbors, though I ought to admit that it would
not compare with the Mission woollen goods of San
Francisco; still, I think a peep into my mother's
factory as it was in the year 1800 would be found
interesting to her descendants of the present day.
This was before the day of our country carding ma-
chines. My mother had nine operatives at this time,
of different ages, and not a drone among us all. All
were busy with the little picking machines, the hand-
cards, the spinning-wheel, and the loom. It can be
well imagined that my mother was much occupied
in her daily duties, yet she found time to teach
her little ones the way to heaven, and to pray with
them that they might enter therein. And such
teaching! such prayers! What of the result? We
verily believe those children all gave their hearts to
the Savior, either early in childhood or in youth.
She had eleven children; two died in infancy. The
remaining nine all reared families, and a large propor-

LiT. Ind. 4

50 SPRINGS AND LITTLE BROOKS.

tion of them are pious. May a gracious God have
mercy upon the rising generation, and in answer to
the prayers of a long line of pious ancestry save their
children. My mother died in Granville, Ohio, Jan-
uary 29, 1842, in her seventy-first year."

It seemed to me that boys in Ohio were early put
to work, but they used to begin earlier in Massachu-
setts. A boy, or rather baby of five, could ride horse
to plow, a line for guiding the animal being then used
less than at present. He could gather surface stones
into little heaps, drop corn, and pull flax. During
the next year or two, in his linen frock, he performed
all kinds of general light work; among the rest he
would walk beside the ox team while plowing. The
farm on which my father worked at this tender age
was quite rough and stony, and before the plowing
oxen was sometimes hitched a gentle horse without
a bridle, guided, like the oxen, with the whip. My
father had not yet reached the end of his sixth
year when, toward the close of a long hot summer
day, during which he had trudged manfully, whip in
hand, beside these cattle, he became exceedingly tired,
and the silent tears began to fall. Noticing this
the father asked, "What is the matter, my child?"
'^Nothing, sir," was the reply, ''only I think this is a
pretty big team for so small a boy to drive all day."
"I think so too, my son, and we will stop now," said
my grandfather. After his seventh birthday my
father was withdrawn from school during summer,
his services on the farm being too valuable to be
spared. In 1809 my grandfather Bancroft removed
his family to Pennsylvania, where Yankees were then
eyed suspiciously by the Dutch, and in 1814 he emi-
grated to Ohio.

My mother was a native of Vermont. Sibyl
Phelps was her mother's maiden name, and the
Phelps family at an early day removed from the
vicinity of St Albans to Ohio. My mother's parents
were both originally from Massachusetts, Sibyl

MY GRANDFATHER. 51

Phelps leaving Springfield about the time Curtis
Howe, my mother's father, left Granville, the two
meeting first at Swanton, Vermont, in 1797, their
marriage taking place the following year. Curtis
Howe was one in whom were united singular mild-
ness of disposition and singular firmness of character,
and withal as lovable a nature as ever man had. He
lived to the age of ninety-eight, a venerable patriarch,
proud of his numerous descendants, who with one
accord reofarded him as the best man that ever lived.
Like a shepherd amidst his flock, with his white hair,
and mild beaming eye, and quiet loving smile; with
sweet counsel ever falling from his lips, Sabbath days
and other days, his simple presence blessed them. In
the consciousness of duty well performed, with a firm
reliance on his God, a faith deep-rooted in his bible,
which though the mountains were upturned could not
be shaken, a trust that the sweet Christ on whom he
leaned would guide his steps and smooth his path daily
and hourly so long as life should last, and give him
final rest, the good man brought dowa heaven and
made the world to him a paradise. And when earthly
trials thickened, he lifted his soul and soared amidst
the stars, and made the saints and angels his com-
panions.

Ah! talk not to me of living tten and now. We
plume ourselves, poor fools, and say that more of life
is given us in the short space we run it through than
was vouchsafed our ancestors a century or two ago in
thrice the time. Puffed up by our mechanical con-
trivances which we call science, our parcelling-out of
earth and ores which we call wealth, our libertinism
which we call liberty; casting ourselves adrift from
our faith, calling in question the wisdom and goodness
of our maker, throwing ofl* all law but the law of lust,
all affection save avarice and epicurism, we plunge
headlong into some pandemonium or cast ourselves
under some soul-crushing juggernaut of progress, and

52 SPEINGS AND LITTLE BROOKS.

call it life, and boast one year of such hurry-skurry
existence to be worth ten, ay, a hundred, of the old-
time sort.

Lacrymse Christi! What, then, is life? To swine,
a wallowing in the mire; to the money -getter, a
wrangling on the mart; to the brainless belle, a beau,
dancing, and dissipation; to the modern young man,
billiards, cigars, and champagne cocktails — and if he
stops at these he does well. To the woman of fashion
life is a war on wrinkles; to the epicure, it is frogs
and turtles; to the roud, women and fast horses; to
the politician, chicanery, cheatings, and overreachings ;
to the man of science, evolution, universal law, and a
dark uncertain future. Away with aged father and
tottering mother! hence with them, coffin them, wall
them in, send their souls quick to heaven and let their
names be canonized, so that they depart and give their
ambitious children room. So swiftly do the actions of
modern fast livers follow their swift thoughts that the
recording angel must be indeed a good stenographer to
take down all their doings. " Think of the crowning
hours of men's lives," exclaims Thomas Starr King, " if
you would learn how much living can be crowded into
a minute; of Copernicus, when he first saw the sun
stop in its career, and the earth, like a moth, begin to
flutter round it; of Newton, when the law of gravity
was first breaking into the inclosure of his philosophy,
and at the same glance he saw his own name written
forever on the starry sky; of Le Verrier, when from
Berlin word came back that a new planet had been
evoked by the sorcery of his mathematics, to spin a
wider thread of reflected light than had ever before
been traced; of Washington, when the English gen-
eral's sword was surrendered to him at Yorktown ; of
Columbus, when on his deck ' before the upright man
there arose a light,' when San Salvador lifted its
candle to his sight and shot its rays across on Castile ;
and for the jeers of a continent, the mutiny of his
men, he was repaid as he saw that the round idea that

THE PHILOSOPHY OF LIVING. 53

haunted him was demonstrated. To pictures like
these we must turn to understand the untranslatable
bliss of which a moment is capable, to learn what
fast living really is."

To few, however, is given the happiness of thus
hanging the results of a noble life on a point of time,
but to all is given the privilege of making somewhat
of life. Our life is but one among millions of lives,
our world one among millions of worlds, our solar
system one among millions of solar systems. '^ La
plupart des hommes," says La Bruyere, '' emploient
la premiere partie de leur vie a rendre I'autre miser-
able." Nevertheless it is safe to say that every man
receives from the world more than he gives. These
so-called fast livers do not live at all, do not know
what life is. They act as though they imagined it to
be a gladiatorial show, in which each was called to
be an actor, a thief, and fierce butcher of time, when
in reality they are but spectators, the creator pro-
viding the entertainment, which is not a gladiatorial
show, but a pastoral feast, where nature herself pre-
sides and distributes the gifts. Let it be inscribed
on the tombstone of him whose fastness of life lies
in money, wine, and women: — Here lies one to whom
God had given intellect and opportunity, who lived —
nay rotted — in an age which yielded to inquiry the
grandest returns, doubly rewarding the efforts of
mind by blessing him who gave and him who re-
ceived; but who in all his threescore years lived not
an hour, being absorbed all that time in hurried
preparations to live, and who died laboring under the
strange delusion that he had lived half a century or
more. There is about all this bustle and business the
stifling vapor of merchandise, town lots, and stocks,
which, as one says truthfully, ^Meoxygenates the air
of its fair humanities and ethereal spiritualities, and
the more one breathes of it the less one lives." What
recompense to mummied man for overheated brain,
withered affections, and scoffing distempers? Can

64 SPRINGS AND LITTLE BROOKS.

wealth atone, or even knowledge? Vain simpleton!
^et money if you will, and with it buy desolation,
heart -weariness; with fame buy shipwrecked faith
and blasting winds, which, sweeping over the gardens
of the soul once joyous in their fresh bloom, leave
behind a withered desert. Wealth, fame, and knowl-
edge, and these alone, bring neither faith, hope, nor
sweet charity.

Life is but the glass upon the quicksilver which
mirrors thought. As has been fitly said, one may
see in the filthy stagnant pool the effulgent clouds
rolling in an abyss of blue, or one may see — only
a filthy pool. We may fix our eyes forever on the
figures of our ledger, our minds on sordid dust^ and
hug to our selfish souls a consuming fire; or we may
lift our eyes and look God in the face, take him by
the hand, walk with him, and talk with him of his
wonderful works, and begin our eternity of heaven
by making a heaven of our hearts and filling them
with the inspirations of beauty and contentment.
Such was the life of my grandfather; and, say I, give
me out of this old man's ninety-eight years one poor
day, the poorest of them all, and I will show you
more of life than the modern Dives can find by
diligent search in ninety-eight such years as his!

From a family sketch written by Curtis Howe in
1857 I quote as follows: ''My grandfather, John
Howe, was born in London in the year 1650, and
remained there through his juvenile years. Nothing
is known of his parents, and very little of him, only
that some time after he became a man he came to
this country with a brother whose name is not
known. He purchased a farm in New Haven, Con-
necticut, acquired a handsome property, and married
at the age of sixty a girl of nineteen. My father,
Ephraim Howe, was their youngest, born in April,
1730, his father being at that time eighty years
old. December 2, 1756, my father married Damaris

QUALIFIED FAITH. 55

Seaward, he being twenty-seven and she seventeen.
According to the family record I was born May 10,
1772; I remained very small and grew but little until
I arrived at my teens, and reaching my full size, I
suppose, only when nearly twenty-one."

Things changed as time went on ; the world bustled
forward and left my grandfather behind. His children
to the third and fourth generations became scattered
from the Atlantic to the Pacific, and as he advanced
in years there was a growing desire in him to see
them all and leave with them his blessing ere he died.
Many of them he did see, making long journeys in
his wagon rather than trust himself to a railway.
Queer caution this, it always seemed to me. The
good patriarch could trust his God implicitly in most
matters; indeed he was confident of his ability to
protect him everywhere except on steam -cars and
steam -boats. He could go to him in trouble, he
could leave his cares with him, knowing that what-
ever was meted out to him was right and best; but he
was a little doubtful about the newfangled, rattling,
screeching, bellowing method of travelling, and he
preferred the old and sure way, horses and wagons,
such as had brought him and his household safely
from St Albans to Granville and such as he had ever
since employed. The spirit of steam had not yet
fallen on him. Nevertheless, so great was the desire
to see his children in California, that he finally sum-
moned courage or faith sufficient to brave both rail-
way and steam-ship, making the fatiguing, and for
him dangerous passage by the Isthmus at the advanced
age of ninety-four.

From family records I have ascertained that a
grandmother of my father and a grandmother of my
mother were born in the same town the same year;
both died the same year at the advanced age of
ninety-six. My grandfathers Bancroft and Howe were
both born in Granville, Massachusetts; the former
died in Ohio, the latter in Kansas.

56 SPRINGS AND LITTLE BROOKS.

Both of my parents were born in the year 1799.
I was born in Granville, Ohio, on the fifth day of
May, 1832, just two centuries after the arrival of my
ancestor John in America. The town of Granville
was settled by a colony from New England, and took
its name from Granville, Massachusetts, whence many
of its settlers came. It was in 1805 that a company
was formed in Granville, Massachusetts, to emigrate
to the far west, and two of the number went to search
the wilderness for a suitable location. They selected
a heavily timbered township in Ohio, in the county
of Licking, so called from the deer-licks found there.
They secured from the proprietors, Stanbury and
Kathburn, this tract, and it afterward took the name
of Granville, as before mentioned, from their old
home. The year following the colony was organized,
not as a joint-stock company, but as a congregational
church. At starting a sermon was preached from
the text: ^'If thy presence go not with me, carry
us not up hence." Then, after baking much bread,
a portion of which was dried to rusk and coarsely
ground at the flouring mill, the cattle were hitched
to the wagons, and driving their cows before them
they moved off in the direction of the star of empire.
It was quite a different thing, this New England
colony, from an ordinary western settlement. Though
eminently practical, it partook rather of the subjective
and rational element than of the objective and ma-
terial. Though unlike their forefathers fleeing from
persecution — only for more and better land than they
could find at home would they go — they nevertheless,
with their households, transplanted their opinions and
their traditions, without abating one jot or tittle of
either. With their ox teams and horse teams, with
all their belongings in covered wagons, these colonists
came, bearing in their bosoms their love of God, their
courageous faith, their stern morality, their delight in
sacrifice; talking of these things by the way, camping
by the road side at night, resting on the Sabbath when

THE LATER MIGRATION. 57

all the religious ordinances of the day were strictly
observed, consuming in the journey as many days as
it now occupies half-hours, and all with thanksgiving,
prayer, and praise.

Quite a contrast, this sort of swarming, to that
which characterized the exodus to California less
than half a century later, wherein greed usurped the
place of godliness, and lust the place of love. The na-
tion had progressed, it was said, since Ohio was the
frontier — crablike in some respects, surely; neverthe-
less there was more of 4ife' in it, that is to say ebulli-
tion, fermentation, called life, as brainless boys and men
doomed to perdition call their fopperies, harlotings,
and drunken revelries life. There had been a grand
broadening since then; Yankeedom now stretched, if
not from pole to pole, at least from ocean to ocean,
and scarcely had the guns ceased braying that added
to our domain the whole of Alta California when the
chink of gold was heard upon our western seaboard,
and thither flocked adventurers of every caste, good
and bad, learned and unlearned, mercantile, mechan-
ical, and nondescript. The sons of the puritans, in
common with all the world, rose and hastily departed
on their pilgrimage to this new shrine of Plutus.
Eagerly they skirted the continent, doubled Cape
Horn, crossed the Isthmus, or traversed the plains,
in order to reach the other side. The old covered
wagon was again brought out, the oxen and the
horses; wives and little ones were left behind, and so,
alas ! too often were conscience,' and honesty, and hu-
manity. Not as their forefathers had journeyed did
these latter-day men of progress migrate. Sacrifice,
there was enough of it, but of quite a different kind.
Comfort, society with its wholesome restraints, and
Sabbath were sacrificed; the bible, the teachings of
their youth, and the Christ himself, were sacrificed.
Oaths and blasphemy instead of praise and thanks-
giving were heard ; drunken revelry and gambling took

58 SPRINGS AND LITTLE BROOKS.

the place of psalms and sermons. Playing-cards were
the gold-seeker's testament, rum the spirit of his con-
templations, and lucre his one and final love. The
rifle and the bowie-knife cleared his path of beasts
and native men and women, and the unfortunate
' greasers,' by which opprobrious epithet the Anglo-
Saxon there greeted his brethren of the Latin race,
fared but little better. Here was a new departure
in colonizing; nor yet a colonizing — only a huddling
of humanity, drunk from excess of avarice.

It was late in the week that the New England
emigrants to Ohio reached their destination and
camped on a picturesque bench, the rolling forested
hills on one side, and on the other a strip of timbered
bottom, through which flowed a clear quiet stream.
Arranging their wagons in the way best suited for
convenience and defence, they felled a few of the large
maple and other trees and began to prepare material
for building. Then came the warm Sabbath morning,
when no sound of the axe was heard, and even nature
softened her shrill music and breathed low as arose to
heaven the voice of prayer, and praise, and thanks-
giving, nevermore to be new or strange among these
consecrated hills. A sermon was read on that first
Granville Sabbath, and never from that day to this
has the peaceful little spot been without its Sabbath
and its sermon. Houses were quickly erected, and
a church, Timothy Harris being the first pastor.
Schools quickly followed; and all thus far being from
one place, and of one faith, and one morality, no time
was lost in sage discussions, so that Granville grew
in solid comforts and intelligence, outstripping the
neighboring communities, and ere long sending forth
hundreds of young men and women to educate others.

The Phelps family was among the earliest to leave
Vermont for the Ohio Granville, thus established by
the Massachusetts men. Then came the Bancrofts
from Pennsylvania and the Howe family from Ver-

OLD-TIME MATING. 59

mont. Among the first acts of the colonists was to
mark out a village and divide the surrounding lands
into hundred-acre farms. Now it so happened that
the farms of Azariah Bancroft and Curtis Howe
adjoined. Both of these settlers were blessed with
numerous children ; my father was one of eleven, four
boys and five girls reaching maturity. It was not
the custom in that slow age for parents to shirk their
responsibility. Luxury, pleasure, ease, had not yet
usurped the place of children in the mother's breast ;
and as for strength to bear them, it was deemed dis-
graceful in a woman to be weak who could not show
just cause for her infirmity. As I have said before,
work was the order of the day — work, by which means
alone men can be men, or women women; by which
means alone there can be culture, development, or a
human species fit to live on this earth. Men and
women, and boys and girls, all worked in those days,
worked physically, mentally, and morally, and so
strengthened hand, and head, and heart. Thus work-
ing in the kitchen field and barn-yard, making hay and
milking cows, reaping, threshing, spinning, weaving,
Ashley Bancroft and Lucy Howe grew up, the one a
lusty, sinewy, dark- eyed youth, the other a bright
merry maiden, with golden hair, and the sweetest
smile a girl ever had, and the softest, purest eyes that
ever let sunlight into a soul. Those eyes played the
mischief with the youth. Sly glances were given and
returned; at spelling-school, singing-school, chestnut-
ting, and sleighing, whenever they encountered one
auother the heart of either beat 'the faster. And in
the full course of time they were married, and had
a hundred -acre farm of their own; had cattle, and
barn, and farm implements, and in time a substantial
two-story stone house, with a bright tin roof; and soon
there were six children in it, of whom I was the
fourth ; and had all these comforts paid for — for these
thrifty workers hated debt as they hated the devil —
all paid for save the children, for which debt the

€0 SPRINGS AND LITTLE BROOKS.

parents ceased not to make acknowledgments to al-
mighty God morning and evening to the end.

Writing in his journal at the age of eighty-three,
just after the death of my mother, in 1882, my father
tells the story thus: "Well, a long time ago a little
stammering boy" — my father had a slight impediment
in his speech — ''turned up from the rocks and hills
of Massachusetts, who might eventually want a wife ;
and Infinite Benevolence took the case into His own
hands, and being able to see the end from the begin-
ning, by way of compensation, perhaps, for the griev-
ous affliction entailed upon him. He was graciously
inclined to bestow upon him one of the very best
young women in His keeping, and in accordance with
His plan he caused the damsels of His mighty realm
to pass before Him, and strange to relate, near the
Green Mountains of Vermont one was found with
whom He was perfectly acquainted, and whom He
knew would be the right person to fill the place. Now
the parties were far removed from each other, and still
farther removed from the scene of their future desti-
nation. And as the time drew nigh when these young
persons were to be brought together, discipline and
counsel were preparing them; for good parents had
been given by the great Moving Power, who could
clearly see that they would rear a family of children
that they would not be ashamed of And now, in
accordance with the great plan, I was sent out to
Ohio a few years in advance of my mate; and four
years later there was a movement in a family in
Vermont, who bade farewell to friends and started
for the west. The second day after their arrival I
was walking from father's toward town, when I met
two persons, one of whom was my sister Matilda
and the other Miss Lucy D. Howe. My sister lightly
introduced us, and we all passed on, but not until I
had seen a great deal; my eyes were fixed upon this
new object; and I could not tell why, nothing escaped
me, not even her dress, which I should think was of

THE ADVOCATE. 61

scarlet alpaca, and well fitted. I do not know exactly
how it was, whether the dress became the person,
or the person the dress, but taking them together I
thought them the finest affair I had ever seen."

They were then in their sixteenth year, and seven
years were yet to elapse before their marriage. My
father was what people in those days called a good
boy, that is he was scarcely a boy at all — sober, sedate,
pious, having in him little fun or frolic, though pos-
sessing somewhat of a temper, but for which his father
would have pronounced him the^best boy that ever lived.
The immaculate youth had not yet won his bride, who
was as clear-headed and single-hearted as he, and joy-
ous as a sunbeam withal. What could he do, extremely
sensitive and bashful as he was; how could he bring
his faulty tongue to speak the momentous w^ords?
There was a way in old-time wooings not practised so
much of late. Listen. "Poor Ashley!" continues
my father, " he was indeed smitten, though he could
not make a move. But he had one resource. He
knew the way to a throne of grace, and his prayer
for months was that God would give him a companion
that should prove a rich and lasting blessing to him.
And how Avonderfully that prayer has been answered.
Miss Howe when she started out from her home that
morning did not know she was going forth to meet
him w4io had been appointed to be her companion
during a pilgrimage of sixty years." They joined the
same church at the same time, after which, like her
father before her, my mother taught school, some-
times at Granville and sometimes at Irville. It was
on one of these occasions, when she was absent, that
my father summoned courage to write her a proposal,
which after much delay resulted in the bright con-
summation of his hopes. But before marriage my
mother assisted her father from her owm earnings in
building his farm-house, and by further teaching and
making bonnets of straw she accumulated enough for
her wedding outfit. A few months after their marriage

C2 SPRINGS AND LITTLE BROOKS.

they removed to Newark, Ohio, where my father had
taken a contract to build a large brick residence for
William Stanbury. This work occupied him two
years, and when completed was the finest residence
in Licking county. In part payment he took the
Granville farm, the childhood home of his sons and
dauQ^hters. He also built locks for the Ohio canal,
under contract. " During the year 1840," writes my
father, 'Svhile travelling south on business, I encoun-
tered a fine rich farming country in Missouri, and in
the following year reaaoved my family thither, in
company with some of my Granville neighbors; but
after a sojourn of about three years we were driven
back by the unwholesomeness of the climate. In 1850
I joined a company from Licking county bound for
California. We went out by steamer to Chagres,
and from Panamd by sailing vessel. Accidents and
delays so retarded our progress that our voyage
occupied over six months. I returned to Ohio in
1852. In 1861 I received an appointment from Gov-
ernment as Indian Agent for the Yakima nation,
at Fort Simcoe, where I remained for nearly. four
years. I returned to San Francisco in November,
1864, and since then have lived quietly and happily
among my children and my children's children."

My parents were married in Granville, Ohio, on
the 21st of February, 1822, the Reverend Ahab
Jenks officiating; the 21st of February, 1872, at my
house in San Francisco, they celebrated their golden
wedding, probably the most joyous event of their
long and happ}^ lives. Two of my father's brothers
have likewise celebrated their golden weddings, one
before this and one afterward. While I am now
writing, my father of eighty-five is talking with my
children, Paul, Griffing, Philip, and Lucy, aged six,
four, two, and one, respectively, telling them of things
happening when he was a boy, which, were it possible
for them to remember and tell at the age of eighty-
five to their grandchildren, would be indeed a col-

MEETINGS AND REFORMATIONS. 63

lating of the family book of life almost in century-
pages. Living is not always better than dying; but
to my boys I would say, if they desire to live long in
this world they must work and be temperate in all
things.

Thus it happened that I was born into an atmos-
phere of pungent and invigorating puritanism, such as
falls to the lot of few in these days of material pro-
gress and transcendental speculation. This atmos-
phere, however, was not without its fogs. Planted in
this western New England oasis, side by side with the
piety and principles of the old Plymouth colony, and
indeed one with them, were all the antis and isms
that ever confounded Satan — Calvinism, Lutheran-
ism, Knoxism, and Hussism, pure and adulterated;
abolitionism, whilom accounted a disgrace, later the
nation's proudest honor; anti-rum, anti-tobacco, anti
tea and coffee, anti sugar and cotton if the enslaved
black man grew them, and anti fiddles and cushions
and carpets in the churches, anti-sensualism of every
kind, and even comforts if they bordered on luxury.
Thus the fanatically good, in their vehement attempts
at reform, may perchance move some atom of the pro-
gressional world which of inherent necessity, if left
alone, would move 'without their aid or in spite of
them. Multitudinous meetings and reforms, high-
pressure and low-pressure, were going on, whether
wise or unwise, whether there was anything to meet
for or to reform, or not. As my n^other used to say,
''to be good and to do good should constitute the aim
and end of every life." Children particularly should
be reformed, and that right early; and so Saturday
night was 'kept,' preparatory to the Sabbath, on
which day three 'meetings' were always held, besides
a Sunday-school and a prayer-meeting, the intervals
being filled with Saturday-cooked repasts, catechism,
a>nd Sunday readings.

Preparations were made for the Sabbath as for a

04 SPRINGS AND LITTLE BROOKS.

solemn ovation. The garden was put in order, and
the sheep and kine were driven to their quiet quarters.
The house was scrubbed, and in the winter fuel pre-
pared the day before. All picture-books and scraps
of secular reading which might catch the eye and
offend the imagination were thrust into a closet, and
on the table in their stead were placed the bible.
Memoirs of Payson, and Baxters Saints Rest. The
morning of the holy day crept silently in; even nature
seemed subdued. The birds sang softer ; the inmates
of the farm-yard put on their best behavior ; only the
brazen-faced sun dared show itself in its accustomed
character. Prayers and breakfast over, cleanly
frocked, through still streets and past closed doors
each member of the household walked with down-
cast eyes to church. Listen and heed. Speak no
evil of the godly man, nor criticise his words.

Not only is religion, or the necessity of worship,
as much a part of us as body, mind, or soul, but
ingrafted superstition of some sort so fastens itself on
our nature that the philosophy of the most skeptical
cannot wholly eradicate it.

Often have I heard latter-day progressive fathers
say: "For myself, I care not for dogmas and creeds,
but something of the kind is necessary for women and
children ; society else would fall in pieces." Without
subscribing to such a sentnnent, I may say that I
thank God for the safe survival of strict religious
training ; and I thank him most of all for emancipa-
tion from it. It may be good to be born in a hotbed
of reverential sectarianism ; it is surely better, at some
later time, to escape it.

Excess of any kind is sure, sooner or later, to de-
feat its own ends. Take, for instance, the meetings
inflicted on the society into which destiny had pro-
jected me. There were pulpit meetings, conference
meetings, missionary meetings, temperance meetings,
mothers' meetings, young men's meetings, Sunday-
school meetings, inquiry meetings, moral-reform meet-

BELIEF AND ITS DESTINY. 65

ings, ministers' meetings, sunrise and sunset meetings,
anti-slavery meetings — these for the ordmary minis-
trations, with extra impromptu meetings on special
occasions, and all intermingled with frequent and
fervid revivals. The consequence was that the young
men of Granville were noted in all that region for
their wickedness. Home influence and the quiet but
efl*ectual teachings of example were overshadowed by
the public and more active poundings of piety into the
young. The tender plant was so watered, and digged
about, and fertilized, that natural and healthy growth
was impeded. A distaste for theological discourse
was early formed, arising, not from a distaste for re-
ligion, nor from special inherent badness, but from the
endless unwholesome restraints thrown upon youth-
ful unfoldings, which led in many instances to the
saddest results. '' Born in sin !" w^as the cry that first
fell on infant ears, and "brought forth in iniquity!"
the refrain. This beautiful world that thou seest is
given thee, not to enjoy with thankful adoration, but
as a snare of Satan. Do penance, therefore, for sins
which thou wilt be sure to commit if thou livest. Let
thy mind dwell little upon the things thou canst see
and understand, and much upon what is beyond the
sky, of which thou canst know nothing. By prayer
and propitiation peradventure thou mayest induce om-
nipotence to avert from thine innocent head some of
its premeditated wrath ; or, if there must be a dis-
play of the creator's power let it fall on our neighbors
and not on us. So the heaven that my kind heavenly
father throws round my earthly habitation is turned
into furnace-fires to melt the metal of self-abnegation
into coins with which to buy the heaven hereafter.

What then shall be the coming religion? The
prophet has not yet arisen to proclaim it. Whatever
else its quality, sure I am it will not be a religion of
creeds, dogmas, or traditions. We have had enough
of the teachings of twilight civilization, of being told
by the ignorant and superstitious of by- gone centuries

Lit. Ind. 5

66 SPRINGS AND LITTLE BROOKS.

what we must believe, by those whose occupation and
interest it is to instil ignorance and befog the intel-
lects of men. Whatever else it may contain, the new
religion will be founded on reality and common-sense.
It will, first of all, discard such parts of every religion
as are unable to bear the test of reason, and accept
such parts of every religion as are plain, palpable
truths. It will look within and without; it will search
for knowledge to the uttermost, not ignoring inten-
tions and spiritual aspirations, but vain speculation
it will leave to the winds.

It is not to be wondered at that, after such an ex-
cess of piety and exalted contemplation, to the young
elastic mind an interview with the devil was most re-
freshing; and as these boys were taught that in to-
bacco, small-beer, and the painted cards that players
used, he lurked, there the pious urchins sought him.
Clubs were formed — rough little knots, for polished
wickedness had as yet no charm for them — and meet-
ings held for the purpose of acquiring proficiency
in these accomplishments. Often after leaving our
'inquiry' meeting — that is to say, a place where young
folks met ostensibly for the purpose of inquiring
what they should do to be saved — have I gone home
and to bed; then later, up and dressed, in company
with my comrades I would resort to a cellar, garret,
or barn, with tallow candle, cent cigars, and a pack of
well-worn greasy playing-cards, and there hold sweet
communion with infernal powers; in consequence of
which enthusiasm one barn was burned and several
others narrowly escaped burning. Strange to say,
later in life, as soon as I learned how playing-cards
were made, and that no satanic influences were em-
ployed in their construction or use, they ceased to
have any fascination for me.

The spirit of mischief broke out in various ways,
such as unhinging gates and hiding them in the grass,
rousing the inmates of a house at the dead of night
on some frivolous pretext; sometimes choice fruits

TENDENCY OF EXCESS. 67

would be missing, and a farmer would find his horses
unaccountably used up some morning, or his wagon in
the neighboring town. .Hither with their noble ethics
these New England emigrants had brought their fierce
bigotry, which yielded fruit, the one as well as the
other.

But on the whole, excess of what we call goodness
is better than excess of wickedness. A French writer
complains, '' Tous les vices mediocres sent presque
generalement approuves; on ne les condamne que dans
leur exces." Now excess per se I hold to be the
very essence of evil, the sura of all evils, the sole evil
incident to humanity. ^^ Virtus est medium vitiorum
^t utrinque reductum," says Horace. Virtue is al-
ways found lying between two vices. Those very
excellences, moral and intellectual, which cultivated
in moderation tend to happiness, if cultivated to an
extreme tend to misery. Plato had the idea, though
it is somewhat confusedly expressed when he says,
'^Slavery and freedom, if immoderate, are each of
them an evil ; if moderate, they are altogether a good.
Moderate is the slavery to a god; but immoderate to
men. God is a law to the man of sense; but pleasure
is a law to the fool." Dr Young remarks, "When
we dip too deep iti pleasure we always stir up a
sediment that renders it impure and noxious." We
can but notice in the history of high attainments
reached by various ages and nations, culminating
points, in leaping which progress dpfeats itself Un-
due culture in one direction retards advancement in
another. Intellectual excesses, of all others, tend to
drive a man to extremes. The higher a brain worker
is lifted out of or above himself, the lower he sinks in
the reaction; for to ignore himself, his human and
material nature, is impossible. A strain upon those
exquisitely delicate organs essential to the higher
chords of genius produces discordant results. The
temptation for refined and intellectual men to pe-

68 SPRINGS AND LITTLE BROOKS.

riodical coarseness and immorality is far greater than
persons of less delicate organizations can imagine.
Thus beyond a certain line the intellectual in man
can be further developed only at the expense of the
physical, or the physical only at the expense of the
mental. The intensity of force arising from alco-
holic stimulants results in subsequent exhaustion.
Consulting Dr Fothergill on this subject, we are told
that '' where man is left too much to his mere muscu-
lar efforts, without the mind being engaged, we find
disease engendered, and that, too, to a decided extent.
The monotonous occupation entailed by the division
of labor, and the mental lethargy entailed by a form of
labor making no demand upon the intellectual powers,
leave the persons engaged in such labor a prey to
every form of excitement when the work hours are
over. Drunkenness, political and theological agitation,
bursts of excitement, and a sensational literature of
the lowest order, are the price mankind pays for the
development of industrial enterprise. Insanity dogs
the neglect of the intellect even more than over-use
of it, and the percentage of insanity among field
laborers is much higher than among the professional
classes."

It is by the development of all our faculties simul-
taneously that perfect manhood is attained. For in
this simultaneous development the true mean asserts
itself and subordinates excess. The moment one faculty
is taxed at the expense of another both cry out for re-
dress ; one by reason of the too heavy burden laid upon
it, and the other under the sufferings of neglect. Ex-
cess pays no attention to these cries, but abandons its
victim to passion ; while temperance heeds and obeys.
Hence excessive so-called goodness becomes in itself a
great evil, and excessive so-called evil is sure in the
end to react and to some extent right itself, or rot and
fall in pieces. Abstract evil without some amalgam
of good to give it form and consistence cannot hold
together. It is like a lump of clay fashioned in the

THE HAPPY MEAN. 69

image of man, but without life or motive principle ; or
like man fashioned after the image of his maker, with-
out the soul of the creator's goodness. We are not
invited into this world to be angels or demons, but
simply men ; let us strive never so hard to be one or
the other, and we signally fail. Coupled with the
superlative, "Pray without ceasing," is the caution,
''Be not righteous overmuch." Avoid irreligion,
atheism, soulless nescience; avoid likewise supersti-
tion, fanaticism, and pious brawlings. May not our
ills be merely blessings in excess? And the higher
and holier the good, the greater the curse of it when
we swallow too much. I know of no such things as
' vices mediocres.' To sin against my body, be it ever
so little, is to sin, for it is written, '' Thou shalt do
no murder;" to sin against my mind, my soul, is to
sin against mind immortal, the soul of my soul. This
it is to be born in sin, and nothing more; to be born
unevenly balanced, so that throughout life we are
constantly vibrating, ever verging toward one extreme
or another.

In the broader view of man and his environment,
in watching the powerful influences that govern him,
and his almost futile efforts to govern himself or
his surroundings, one cannot but be struck by the
self-regulating principle in the machinery. We walk
through life as on a tight -rope, and the more evenly
we balance ourselves the better we can go forward.
Too much leaning on one side involves a correspond-
ing movement toward the other extreme in order to
gain an equilibrium, and so we go on wriggling and
tottering all our days. Hence, to avoid excesses of
every kind I hold to be the truest wisdom. We have
before us, in the history of mankind, thousands of
examples if we would profit by them, thousands
of illustrations if we will see them, wherein excess of
what we call good and excess of what we call evil both
alike tend to destruction. The effects of excessive
piety are before us in forms of morbid asceticism, with

70 SPRINGS AND LITTLE BROOKS.

self-flagellations, and starvations, and half a nation
turned beggarly monks, to be kept alive at the ex-
pense of the other half or left to die; in persecutions
and slaughters, which for centuries made this fair
earth an Aceldama, whence the smoke from reeking
millions slain, ascending heavenward, called aloud for
vengeance. ^' Crucify thy body and the lusts thereof,"
cries the ascetic; until, alas! the knees smite together,
and the imbecile mind, deprived of its sustenance,
wanders with weird images in the clouds. *^ Give us
meat and drink; let us be merry," says the sensualist;
and so the besotted intellect is brought down and
bemired until the very brutes regard it contemptu-
ously. Away with effeminate sentimentality on the
one side and beastly indulgence on the other! Away
with straining at gnats and swallowing camels ! Use,
but do not abuse, all that God has given thee — the
fair earth, that wonderful machine, thy body, that
thrice awful intelligence that enthrones thy body
and makes thee companion of immortals. Given a
world of beings in which mind and body are evenly
balanced, and the millennium were come; no more
need of priest or pill- taking; no more need of propa-
gandist or hangman. Olympus sinks to earth, and
men walk to and fro as gods.

It is the will of God, as Christianity expresses it,
or inexorable necessity, as the Greek poets w^ould say,
or the tendency of evolution, as science puts it, for
goodness on this earth to grow; for men to become
better, and for evil to disappear. Self-preservation
demands moderation in all things, and it is ordained,
whether we will it or not, that temperance, chastity,
frugality, and all that is elevating and ennobling, shall
ultimately prevail. Not that we are passive instru-
ments in the hand of fate, without will or power to
move. We may put forth our puny efforts, and as
regards our individual selves, and those nearest us,
we may accomplish much; and the more we struggle
for the right, whether on utilitarian or inherent mo-

EARLY ABOLITIONISM. 71

rality principles, the more we cultivate in our hearts
the elements of piety, morality, and honesty, the
better and happier we are. This the experience of
all mankind in all ages teaches, and this our own ex-
perience tells us every day. Whatever else I know
or am doubtful of, one thing is plain and sure to me :
to do my duty as best I may, each day and hour, as it
comes before me; to do the right as best I know it,
toward God, my neighbor, and myself; this done, and
I may safely trust the rest. To know the right, and
do it, that is life. Compromises with misery-breeding
ignorance, blind and stupid bigotry, and coyings and
harlotings with pestilential prudences, lackadaisical
loiterings and tamperings with conscience, when right
on before you is the plain Christ- trodden path —
these things are death. He who knows the right and
does it, never dies; he who tampers with the wrong,
dies every day. But alas I conduct is one thing and
rules of conduct quite another.

Nevertheless, I say it is better to be righteous
overmuch than to be incorrigibly wicked. And so
the puritans of Granville thought as they enlarged
their meeting-houses, and erected huge seminaries of
learning, and called upon the benighted from all parts
to come in and be told the truth. Likewise they com-
forted the colored race.

The most brilliant exploit of my life was performed
at the tender age of eleven, wheri I spent a whole
night in driving a two-horse wagon load of runaway
slaves on their way from Kentucky and slavery to
Canada and freedom — an exploit which was regarded
in those days by that community with little less ap-
probation than that bestowed by a fond Apache
mother upon the son who brandishes before her his
first scalp. The ebony cargo consisted of three men
and two women, who had been brought into town the
night before by some teamster of kindred mind to my
father's, and kept snugly stowed away from prying

72 SPRINGS AND LITTLE BROOKS.

eyes during the day. About nine o'clock at night
the large lumber-box wagon filled with straw was
brought out, and the black dissenters from the Ameri-
can constitution, who so lightly esteemed our glorious
land of freedom, were packed under the straw, and
some blankets and sacks thrown carelessly over them,
so that outwardly there might be no significance of
the dark and hidden meaning of the load. My care-
ful mother bundled me in coats and scarfs, to keep me
from freezing, and with a round of good-bys, given
not without some apprehensions for my safety, and
with minute instructions, repeated many times lest I
should forget them, I climbed to my seat, took the
reins, and drove slowly out of town. Once or twice I
was hailed by some curious passer-by with, "What
have you got there?" to which I made answer as in
such case had been provided. Just what the answer
was I have forgotten, but it partook somewhat of
the flavor of my mission, which was more in the
direction of the law of God than of the law of man.
Without telling an unadulterated Ananias and Sap-
phira lie, I gave the inquirer no very reliable informa-
tion; still, most of the people in that vicinity under-
stood well enough what the load meant, and were in
sympathy with the shippers. I was much nearer
danger when I fell asleep and ran the wagon against
a tree near a bank, over which my load narrowly
escaped being turned. The fact is, this was the first
time in my life I had ever attempted to keep my eyes
open all night, and more than once, as my horses
jogged along, I was brought to my senses by a jolt,
and without any definite idea of the character of the
road for some distance back. My freight behaved
very well; once fairly out into the country, and into
the night, the 'darkies' straightened up, grinned, and
appeared to enjoy the performance hugely. During
the night they would frequently get out and walk,
always taking care to keep carefully covered in passing
through a town. About three o'clock in the morning

NEGRO SLAVERY REFORM. 73

I entered a village and drove up to the house whither
I had been directed, roused the inmates, and trans-
ferred to them my load. Then I drove back, sleepy
but happy.

Once my father s barn was selected as the most
available place for holding a grand abolition meeting,
the first anniversary of the Ohio State Anti-Slavery
society. Rotten eggs flew lively about the heads of
the speakers, but they suffered no serious incon-
venience from them until after the meeting was over
and they had begun their homeward journey. Beyond
the precincts of the village they were met by a mob,
and although spurring their horses they did not escape
until the foul flood had drenched them. Those were
happy days, when there was something to suffer for;
now that the slavery monster is dead, and the slayers
have well-nigh spent their strength kicking the carcass,
there is no help for reformers but to run off into
woman's rights, free-love, and a new string of petty
isms which should put them to the blush after their
doughty deeds. There are yet many souls dissatisfied
with God's management of things, who feel them-
selves ordained to re-create mankind upon a model
of their own. Unfortunately the model varies, and
instead of one creator we have ten thousand, who
turn the world upside down with their whimsical
vagaries.

I cannot say that ray childhood was particularly
happy; or if it was, its sorrows are deeper graven
on my memory than its joys. The fault, if fate be
fault, was not my jDarents', who were always most
kind to me. Excessive sensitiveness has ever been
my curse; since my earliest recollections I have
suffered from this defect more than I can tell. My
peace of mind has ever been in hands other than my
own ; at school rude boys cowed and tormented me,
and later knaves and fools have held me in derision.

How painful to a sensitive mind is the attention

74 SPRINGS AND LITTLE BROOKS.

drawn by personal peculiarity; how powerful the in-
fluence of external trifles! Instance B3rron, with his
club-foot; and the pimpled Hazlitt, as his Tory critics
called him, his morbid imagination haunted by the
ever present picture of himself, the sinister effects of
which governed well-nigh every action of his life.
Then there was the dusopia of Plutarch's which con-
sisted in the inability of saying no; and the shyness
that subordinated judgment to fear, such as that
manifested by Antipater when invited to the feast of
Demetrius, or that of young Hercules, Alexander's
son, who was browbeaten into accepting the invitation
of Polysperchon, which, as the son of Alexander had
feared, resulted in his death ; worst of all is the bash-
fulness of dissimulation, and that counterfeit of shy-
ness, egoism. I never had any difliculty in saying no,
never lacked decision. No matter at what expense of
unpopularity, or even odium, I stood always ready to
maintain the right; and as for the diffidence of dis-
simulation, I was frank enough among my friends,
though reserved with strangers. By nature I was
melancholy without being morose, affectionate and
proud, and keenly alive to home happiness and the
blessings of every- day life. So far as I am able to
analyze the failing, it arose from no sense of fear,
inferiority, or vanity; it was simply a distaste or dis-
incli:T:.tion to feel obliged to meet and converse with
str mgers when I had nothing to see them for, and
nothing to converse about; at the same time, when
urged by duty or business, my mind once made up,
I could go anywhere and encounter any person with-
out knee-shaking. My trouble partook more of that
nervousness which Lord Macaulay ascribes to Mr
Pitt, who always took laudanum and sal- volatile before
speaking, than of that shyness complained of by
Bulwer, who said he could resist an invitation to
dinner so long as it came through a third person,
in the form of a written or verbal message, but
cnce assaulted by the entertainer in person and he

SUPERSENSITIVENESS. 75

was lost. It is true, a simple invitation to a general
assemblage oppressed my spirits, yet I would go and
endure from a sense of duty. I was timid; others
were bold. Conscious of merits and abilities, superior,
in my own opinion at least, to those of the persons I
most disliked to meet, I would not subject myself to
the withering influences of their loud and burly talk-
ing. With the natural desire for approbation mingled
a nervous horror of shame; with aspirations to excel
the fears of failure ; and I felt a strong repugnance to
exposing myself at a disadvantage, or permitting such
merit as I possessed to be undervalued or overmatched
by the boisterous and contemptible. Yet I will con-
tend that it was less pride than a morbid excess of
modesty curdled into a curse.

The author of Caxtoniana says in his essay on shy-
ness: '^When a man has unmistakably done a some-
thing that is meritorious, he must know it; and he
cannot in his heart undervalue that something, other-
wise he would never have strained all his energy to
do it. But till he has done it, it is not sure that he
can do it; and if, relying upon what he fancies to be
genius, he does not take as much pains as if he were
dull, the probability is that he will not do it at all.
Therefore merit not proved is modest; it covets
approbation, but is not sure that it can win it. And
while thus eager for its object, and secretly strength-
ening all its powers to achieve it by a wise distrust of
unproved capacities and a fervent admiration for the
highest models, merit is tremulously shy." It is by
no means proven that modesty is a mark of merit, or
shyness a sign of genius. On the contrary we might
as naturally ask of the bashful person what he has
done that he is ashamed of But without theory,
without knowing or caring what was the cause, all
through my younger days to meet people was dis-
tasteful to me; so I threw round myself a wall of
solitude, within which admittance was gained by few.
This state of things continued until some time after

76 SPRINGS AND LITTLE BROOKS.

I had arrived at the age of maturity, when it grad-
ually left me; enough remaining, however, to remind
me of the past.

It is one of the saddest processes of life, this of
tanning the heart and turning the seat of the affec-
tions into a barb-proof ball; but there is no other way
of warding off those untoward accidents and incidents
which peril the sensitive angles of the many-sided
bashful man, and of keeping back affliction that con-
stantly pours in upon him. To absorb and digest all
the infelicities that press round us is like going to sea
in a worm-eaten boat; despite our best efforts the bitter
waters will come in and overwhelm us. From the
day of our birth till death gives us rest, ills hover
over us and crowd round us, fancied ills most of them,
or misfortunes which never happen, but to the timid
more fearful than real ones. There are more of
these than we are able to bear, and if we would not
sink into the depths of despair we must fill our hearts
with that which will turn the tide of unhappiness.
Pitch will do it to some extent, though it may not be
handled without defilement. Charity absorbs troubles
rather than sheds them. Nevertheless, whatever the
cost, some portion of the frowns of our fellows and
the evils anticipated by the fearful and sensitive must
be flung off. We suffer infinitely more in the antici-
pation than in the reality, and then not more than
one in a hundred of our anticipated evils ever reaches
us. Like Pyramus, who prematurely stabbed him-
self because he thought his Thisbe slain by a lion
when she was safe, or Pomeo, who might have had
his Juliet here had he not been in such haste to meet
her in heaven, we are driven to despair by the evil
that never touches us. Throw off evil, then; and
above all, throw off the fear of possible or probable
evil. When it comes, turn your craft to meet the
storm as best you may, but do not die a thousand
times before death comes.

And thus it was that later in life, as I wandered

THE MOVE TO MISSOURI. 77

among the scenes of my childhood, sadness stood
everywhere prominent. I seemed to remember only
the agony of my young life, and every step I took
wrung from my very soul tears of sympathetic pity.
The steed well fed and warmly housed at night will
stand the keenest, coldest day unflinchingly; give to
the boy a happy life, and the man will take care of
himself. Let him who will, after arriving at maturity,
defy opinion and the contempt of the world, but do
not ask the child to do it. Nothing exceeds the
misery suffered by the sensitive youth from the jeers
of companions. Let the boy be a boy during his
youth, and as far into manhood as possible. The
boyish delight of Lamartine as he revelled among the
mountain's sparkling streams, breathing the flower-
scented breath of May, was to his ascetic father-con-
fessor, Pere Varlet, almost a crime. I was reared in
that saturnine school which teaches it to be a sin
for the insulted boy to strike back; and often in my
school-days, overwhelmed with • a sense of ignominy
and wrong, I have stolen off to weep away a wounded
spirit. The fruit of such training never leaves the
child or man ; its sting penetrates the blood and bones,
and poisons the whole future life. Yet for all that,
and more, of puritan Granville I may say, it was well
for this man that he was born there.

My boyhood was spent in working during the
summer, and in winter attending school, where I
progressed so far as to obtain a smattering of Latin
and Greek, and some insight into the higher mathe-
matics. No sooner had my father placed in a forward
state of cultivation his hundred acres, and built him
a large and comfortable stone house — which he did
with his own hands, quarrying the blocks from a hill
near by — and cleared the place from debt, than, seized
by the spirit of unrest, he sold his pleasant home and
moved his family to the ague swamps of New Madrid,
Missouri, where rich land, next to nothing in price,

78 SPRINGS AND LITTLE BROOKS.

with little cultivation would yield enormous returns,
worth next to nothing when harvested, through lack
of any market.

After three years of ague and earthquake agita-
tions in that uncertain-bottomed sand-blown land of
opossums and puckering persimmons, fearing lest the
very flesh would be shaken from our bones, we all
packed ourselves back, and began once more where
we left off, but minus the comfortable stone house and
farm.

Call it discontent, ambition, enterprise, or what you
will, I find this spirit of my father fastened somewhat
upon his son; though with Caliph AH, Mohammed's
son-in-law, I may say, that ^'in the course of my long
life, I have often observed that men are more like the
times they live in than they are like their fathers."
It is characteristic of some people that they are never
satisfied except when they are a little miserable. Like
the albatross, which loves the tempest, sailing round
and round this life's- waste of ocean, if perchance he
crosses the line of calm, he straightway turns back,
suffocated by the silence, and with much contentment
commits himself to new buffetings. Philosophically
put by Herbert Ainslie, '^ Self-consciousness must in-
volve intervals of unhappiness ; not to be self-conscious
is to be as bird or beast, living without knowing
it, having no remembrance or anticipation of joy or
sorrow. Self- consciousness, too, must involve the
consciousness of an ideal or type; a sense of that
which nature intended us to be, and how far we fall
short of it. To finish my homily, if man be the
highest result of nature's long effort to become self-
conscious, to 'know herself,' not to be self-conscious,
that is, to be always happy, is to be not one of na-
ture's highest results. The 'perfect man,' then, must
be one 'acquainted with grief" Often in the simple
desire for new companionship we tire of unadulter-
ated good, and communion with some sorrow or the
nursing of some heartache becomes a pleasing pas-

THE SPIRIT OF UNREST. 79

time. There are persons who will not be satisfied,
though in their garden were planted the kalpa-tarou,
the tree of the imagination, in Indian m}rthology,
whence may be gathered whatever is desired. To
natures thus constituted a real tangible calamity, such
as failure in business or the breaking of a leg, is a god-
send. Pure unalloyed comfort is to them the most
uncomfortable of positions. The rested bones ache
for new hardships, and the quieted mind frets for
new cares. So roam our souls through life, sailing
eternally in air like feetless birds of paradise.

After all, this spirit, the spirit of unrest, of discon-
tent, is the spirit of progress. Underlying all activi-
ties, it moves every enterprise; it is the mainspring
of commerce, culture, and indeed of every agency that
stimulates human improvement. Nay, more : that fire
which may not be smothered, that will not let us rest,
those deep and ardent longings that stir up discon-
tent, that breed distempers, and make a bed of roses
to us a couch of thorns — religion it may be, and ideal
national morality, or sense of duty, or laudable desire
in any form — is it any other influence than Omnipo-
tence working in us his eternal purposes, driving us
on, poor blind cogs that we are in the wheel of destiny,
to the fulfilment of predetermined ends? It is a law
of nature that water, the life-giver, the restorer, the
purifier, shall find no rest upon this planet; it is a
law of God that we, human drops in the stream of
progress, shall move ever onward — in the bubblings,
and vaultings, and pool-eddyings of youth, in the suc-
cessive murmurings, and roarings, and deeper afiairs of
life, and in the more silent and sluggish flow of age —
on, never resting, to the black limitless ocean of the
Beyond.

Nor may our misery, our nervous petulance, our
fretful discontent, our foolish fears, and all the cata-
logue of hateful visitations that grate and jar upon
ourselves and others, and make us almost savage in
our undying hunger, be altogether ficcounted to us for

80 SPRINGS AND LITTLE BROOKS.

ill. That divina particula aiirce, the one little particle
of divine breath that is within us, will not let us rest.
As Pierre Nicol has it, ''L'homme est si miserable,
que I'inconstance avec laquelle il abandonne ses des-
seins est, en quelque sorte, sa plus grande vertu;
parce qu'il temoigne par la qu'il y a encore en lui
quelque reste de grandeur qui le porte h. se degotiter
des choses qui ne meritent pas son amour et son
estime."

Lovely little Granville I dear, quiet home -nook;
under the long grass of thy wall-encircled burial-
ground rest the bones of these new puritan patri-
archs, wiiose chaste lives, for their descendants, and
for all who shall heed them, bridge the chasm between
the old and the new, between simple faith and soul-
sacrificing science, between the east and the west — •
the chasm into which so many have haplessly fallen.
Many a strong man thou hast begotten and sent
forth, not cast upon the world lukewarm, character-
less, but as sons well trained and positive for good
or evil.

Lovely in thy summer smiles and winter frowns;
lovely, decked in dancing light and dew pearls, or in
night's star-studded robe of sleep. Under the soft
sky of summer we ploughed and planted, made hay,
and harvested the grain. Winter was the time for
study, while nature, wrapped in her cold covering, lay
at rest. Fun and frolic then too were abroad on those
soft silvery nights, when the moon played between the
brilliant sky and glistening snow, and the crisp air
carried far over the hills the sound of bells and merry
laughter. Then winter warms into spring, that sun-
spirit which chases away the snow, and swells the buds,
and fills the air with the melody of birds, and scatters
fragrance over the breathing earth; and spring melts
into summer, and summer sighs her autumn exit —
autumn, loved by many as the sweetest, saddest time
of the year, when the husbandman, after laying up his

MY CHILDHOOD HOME. 81

winter store, considers for a moment his past and
future, when the squirrel heaps its nest with nuts,
and the crow flies to the woods, and the cries of birds
of passage in long angular processions are heard high
in air, and the half-denuded forest is tinged with the
hectic flush of dying foliage.

I well remember, on returning from my absence,
with what envy and dislike I regarded as interlopers
those who then occupied my childhood home; and
child as I was, the earliest and most determined ambi-
tion of my life was to work and earn the money to
buy back the old stone house. Ah God 1 how with
swelling heart, and flushed cheek, and brain on fire, I
have later tramped again that ground, the ground my
boyhood trod; how I have skirted it about, and wan-
dered through its woods, and nestled in its hedges,
listening to the rustling leaves and still forest mur-
murings that seemed to tell me of the past; uncov-
ering my head to the proud old elms that nodded to
me as I passed, and gazing at the wild -flowers that
looked up into my face and smiled as I trod them,
even as time had trodden my young heart; whis-
pering to the birds that stared strangely at me and
would not talk to me — none save the bickering black-
bird, and the distant turtle-dove to whose mournful
tone my breast was tuned; watching in the little
stream the minnows that I used to fancy waited for
me to come and feed them before they went to bed;
loitering under the golden-sweet appletree where I
used to loll my study hours away; eying the ill-
looking beasts that occupied the places of my pets,
while at every step some familiar object would send a
thousand sad memories tugging at my heartstrings,
and call up scenes happening a few years back but
acted seemingly ages ago, until I felt myself as old
as Abraham. There was the orchard, celestial white
and fragrant in its blossoms, whose every tree I could
tell, and the fruit that grew on it; the meadow,
through whose bristling stubble my naked feet had

Lit. Ind. G

82 SPRINGS AND LITTLE BROOKS.

picked their way when carrying water to the hay-
makers and fighting bumblebees ; the cornfield, where
I had ridden the horse to plough; the barnyard,
where from the backs of untrained colts I had en-
countered so many falls; the hillock, down which I
had been tumbled by my pet lamb, afterward sacri-
ficed and eaten for its sins — eaten unadvisedly by
youthful participants, lest the morsels should choke
them. There was the garden I had been made to
weed, the well at which I had so often drunk, the
barn where I used to hunt eggs, turn somersets, and
make such fearful leaps upon the hay; there were
the sheds, and yards, and porches; every fence, and
shrub, and stone, stood there, the nucleus of a thousand
heart throbs.

From the grassy field where stands conspicuous
the stone-quarry gash, how often have I driven the
cows along the base of the wooded hill separating my
father's farm from the village, to the distant pasture
where the long blue-eyed grass was mixed with clover,
and sprinkled with buttercups, and dotted with soli-
tary elms on whose limbs the crows and blackbirds
quarrelled for a place. And under the beech-trees
beneath the hill where wound my path, as my bare
feet trudged along, how boyish fancies played through
my brain while I was all unconscious of the great
world beyond my homely horizon. On the bended
bough of that old oak, planted long before I was
born, and which these many years has furnished the
winter's store and storehouse to the thrifty wood-
pecker, while in its shadow lies the lazy cud-chewing
cow, there sits the robin where sat his father, and his
father's father, singing the self-same song his grand-
father sang when he wooed his mate, singing the
self-same song his sons and his sons' sons shall sing;
and still remains unanswered the question of the boy:
Who gives the bird his music lesson?

Dimly, subduedly sweet, were those days, clouded
perhaps a little with boyish melancholy, and now

BOYHOOD SCENES. 83

brought to my remembrance by the play of sunshine
and shadow in and round famihar nooks, by the leafy
woodbine under the garden wall, by the sparkling
dewy grass-blades, and the odor of the breathing
woods, by the crab-appletree hedge, covered with
grape-vines, and bordered with blackberry bushes, and
inclosing the several fields, each shedding its own
peculiar fragrance; by the row of puritanical poplars
lining the road in front of the house, by the willows
drinking at the brook, the buckeyes on the hill, and
the chestnut, hickory, butternut, and walnut trees,
whose fruit I gathered every autumn, storing it in
the garret, and cracking it on Sundays after sunset,
as a reward for 'keeping' Saturday night. Even the
loud croaking of frogs in the little swamp between
the barn and meadow thrilled me more than did ever
Strauss' band.

There is something delicious in the air, though the
ground be wet and the sky murky; it is the air in
which I first cried and laughed. There, upon the
abruptly sloping brow of the hill yonder, is where I
buried myself beneath a load of wood, overturned
from a large two-horse sled into the snow. And in
that strip of thicket to the right I used to hide from
thunder -showers on my way from school. Behind
that stone wall many a time have I crept up and
frightened chanticleer in the midst of his crow, rais-
ing his wrath by breaking his tune, and thereby in-
stig^atinof him to thrice as loud and thrice as lonof a
singing the moment my back was turned. The grove
of sugar-maple trees, to me a vast and trackless forest
infested with huge reptiles and ravenous beasts, when
there I slept all night by the camp-fire boiling the
unsubstantial sap 1:o sweeter consistency, it is now all
cleared away, and, instead, a pasture tempts the
simple sheep. Away across the four -acre lot still
stands the little old bridge wherefrom I fished for
minnows in the brook it spans, with pork-baited pins
for hooks.

84 SPRINGS AND LITTLE BROOKS.

There is something painfully sweet in memories
painful or sweet. How sorrows the heart over its lost
friendships; how the breath of other days whispers of
happiness never realized ; how the sorrowful past plays
its exquisite strains upon the heartstrings! Things
long gone by, deemed little then and joyless, are mag-
nified by the mists of time and distance into a mirage
of pleasurable remembrances. How an old song some-
times stirs the whole reservoir of regrets, and makes
the present well-nigh unbearable! Out of my most
miserable past I draw the deepest pain-pleasures, be-
side which present joys are insipid. There is no sadder
sound to the questioner's ear than the church bell
which sometime called him to believing prayer. At
once it brings to mind a thousand holy aspirations,
and rings the death knell of an eternity of joy.

Like tiny tongues of pure flame darting upward
amidst the mountain of sombre smoke, there are many
bright memories even among the most melancholy
reveries. The unhappiest life contains many happy
hours, just as the most nauseating medicine is made
up of divers sweet ingredients. Even there, golden
run life's golden sands, for into the humble home
ambition brings as yet no curse.

But alas ! the glowing charm thrown over all by the
half-heavenly conceptions of childhood shall never be
revived. Every harvesting now brings but a new crop
of withered pleasures, which with the damask freshness
of youth are flung into the storehouse of desolation.
Therefore hence! back to your hot-bed; this is a lost
Eden to you !

Thus wrapped in dim vistas, forgetful of what I am,
of time, and age, and ache, I light a cigar and throw my-
self upon the turf, and as through the curling smoke I
review the old familiar landscape, the past and present
of my life circle round and round and mount upward
with visions of the future. With triple sense I see
fashioned by the fantastic smoke ghosts of cities, seas,
and continents, of railways, grain-fields, and gold-fields.

PAST AND PRESENT. 85

Through the perspective of impassioned youth I see
my bark buoyant on burnished waters, while round
the radiant shore satisfying pleasures beckon me, and
warm friendships await me, and the near and dear
companions of my childhood, the hills, the trees, and
sky, with whose hebate soul my eager soul has often
held communion, imparting here alone the secrets of
my youthful phantasy, they whisper the assurance in
my ear that every intense yearning shall be rocked to
rest, and every high hope and noble aspiration real-
ized. Then with the eye of mature manhood I look,
and experience reveals a charnel-house of dead am-
bitions, of failures chasing fresh attempts, of lost
opportunities and exploded honors, with all the din
and clatter of present passionate strife; and along
the crowded pathway to Plutus' shrine are weary,
dusty pilgrims, bent with toil and laden with dis-
appointment. Out upon this so swiftly changing
earth there are the rich and the poor, the righteous
and the wicked, the strong and healthy, the sick and
suffering, advancing infancy and departing age, all
hustling each other, and hurrying hither and thither,
like blind beetles following their blind instinct, not
knowing the sea or city, grain-field or gold-field, not
knowing their whence or whither, not knowing them-
selves or the least of created or uncreated things.
Once more I look, and behold, the flattering future is
as ready as ever with her illusions, and men are as
ready as ever to anchor to her false hopes!

Smoke here seems out of place. Its odor is strange
and most unwelcome in this spot. It savors too
strongly of the city and artificial life, of business,
travel, and luxury, to harmonize with the fresh
fragrance of the country. Let it not poison the air
of my early and innocent breathings, laden as are such
airs with the perfumes of paradise. Billowy sensations
sweep over the breast as, standing thus alone amidst
these memory surges, the thickly crowding imageries of
the past rise and float upon the surface of the present.

86 SPRINGS AND LITTLE BROOKS.

How ticklishly fall the feet of manhood on paths its
infancy trod ! There is a new road through the beech
woods yonder which I shun as possessing no interest ;
I have had enough of new roads. Then I ask myself,
will the old elms never wither? will the stones never
decay about these spots? Who would have all the
farms bounded by this horizon as a gift? Yet people
will be born here ten thousand years after I am dead,
and people must live.

Lingering still; the uprooted affections hugging the
soil of their early nourishment. Here, as nowhere on
this earth, nature and I are one. These hills and
fields, this verdant turf and yonder trees are part of
me, their living and breathing part of my living and
breathing, their soul one with my soul. For all which
expression let Dante make my apology: ''Poiche la
carita del natio loco, mi estrinse, raunai le fronde
sparte;" because the charity of my native place con-
strained me, gathered I the scattered leaves.

It is a maddening pleasure thus to conjure from the
soil the buried imageries of boyhood. At every step
arise scores of familiar scenes, ascending in sequent
pictures that mingle with the clouds and float off a
brilliant panorama of the past. The very curb-stones
of the village streets stand as monuments, and every
dust particle represents some weird image, some boyish
conceit, which even now flits before me, racing round
the corners and dancing over the house-tops.

The pretty village has scarcely changed within the
quarter century. The broad, dusty streets, bordered
by grass and foliage, half burying the white and
brown houses that lie scattered on either side; the
several churches, the two great seminaries, the school-
houses, and the college on the hill, are all as when I
left them last.

Here is the ill kept graveyard, the scene of all my
youthful ghost stories, with its time-eaten tombstones
toppling over sunken graves, and its mammoth thorn-
tree, beneath whose shadow the tired hearse-bearers

VIX EA NOSTRA VOCO. 87

set down their dingy cloth-covered burden on the way
to the newly made grave, while the bell that strikes
its slow notes on the suffocating air warns all flesh of
coming dissolution.

Down below the bench yonder winds the wooded
creek, where in my summer school-days we used to
rehearse our exhibition pieces, and bathe. On the
other sides of the village are Sugar-loaf and Alligator
hills. I grow thirsty as I drink the several scenes.

How distances lessen ! Before eyes accustomed to
wider range than the village home and farm adjoining,
the mists and mirage of youth disappear. I start to
walk a block, and ere aware of it I am through the
town and into the country. After all, the buildings
and streets of my native town are not so grand as my
youthful mind was impressible.

How the villagers come out of their houses to stare
at me ; and the old stone house, how rusty, and rugged,
and mean it looks compared with the radiance my un-
hackneyed brain clothed it in, though the tin roof
glitters as brightly now as then, and in its day shel-
tered a world of love.

Never is there a home like the home of our youth;
never such sunshine as that which makes shadows for
us to play in, never such air as that which swells our
little breasts and gives our happy hearts free expres-
sion, never such water as the laughing dancing
streamlet in which we wade through silvery bub-
blings over glittering pebbles, never such music as
the robin s roundelay and the swallow's twittering
that wake us in the morning, the tinkling of the
cow bells, the rustling of the vines over the window,
the chirrup of the cricket, and the striking of the old
house clock that tells us our task is done. The home
of our childhood once abandoned, is forever lost. It
may have been a hut, standing on the rudest patch
of ground the earth affords, yet so wrapped round the
heart is it, so charged with youthful imagery is every
stick and stone of it, that the gilded castle built in

88 SPRINGS AND LITTLE BROOKS.

after life, with all the rare and costly furnishings that
art and ingenuity can afford, is but an empty barn
beside it!

What restfulness, what heartfelt satisfaction, what
exquisite joy, in returning to one's childhood home,
with its dear inmates, father, mother, and all the an-
cient and time-honored belongings, still there, with all
those familiar objects which so wrap themselves round
our young affections, and live within us, yielding joy
if not enjoying, and gladdening the light of day with
their presence. These gone, and joy and beauty are
entombed, and the returned wanderer walks as one
waked from the dead. How soothing and how happy
it would be could I but return, and after the long
weary battle of life rest here the remainder of my
days, grow young with age, become a child again, and,
lapped by my first surroundings, lay life down in
nature's arms where first I took it up. Then should
my hot brain be cooled by the cool air of moonlights
long gone by, and my sinking soul revived by the
sunlights of memory and hope.

Thus glided magic, mysterious childhood. Pass
me Hebe's cup, and let me be young again, that I may
try this mystery once more.

CHAPTER IV.

THE COUNTRY BOY BECOMES A BOOKSELLER.

No man is born into the world whose work is not bom with him ; there is
always work and tools to work withal, for those who will.

Lowell.

Crossing a muddy street one rainy day on lier way
to school, my eldest sister, dark- eyed and tender of
heart, encountered a sandy-haired but by no means
ill-looking youth, who made way for her by stepping
back from the plank which served pedestrians. The
young man was a member of the Derby family of book-
sellers, afterward noted for their large establishments
in various cities. Of course these two young persons,
thus thrown together on this muddy crossing, fell in
love ; how else could it be ? and in due time were mar-
ried, vowing thenceforth to cross all muddy streets in
company, and not from opposite directions. And in
this rain, and mud, and marriage, I find another of the
causes that led me to embark in literature. The
marriage took place in 1845, when I was thirteen
years of age, and the hap^Dy couple made their home
in Geneva, New York, where Mr Derby was then
doing business. Subsequently he removed his book-
store and family to Buffalo.

On our return from the laiid of milk and honey, as
we at first soberly and afterward ironically called our
southern prairie home, my father entered into copart-
nership with one Wright, a tanner and farmer. The
tasks then imposed upon me were little calculated to
give content or yield profit. Mingled with my school
and Sunday duties, interspersed with occasional times

[891

90 THE COUNTRY BOY BECOMES A BOOKSELLER.

for shooting, fishing, swimming, skating, sleighing, and
nut and berry gathering, was work, such as grindino-
bark, sawing wood, chopping, clearing, fencing, milling,
teaming, ploughing, planting, harvesting, and the like,
wherein I could take but little interest and make
no progress, and which consequently I most heartily
hated.

To my great delight, a year or two after the
marriage of my sister, I was offered the choice of
preparing for college or of entering the Buffalo book-
store. The doctrine was just then coming into vogue
that in the choice of a profession or occupation
youthful proclivities should be directed, but the youth
should not be coerced. This, within the bounds of
reason, is assuredly the correct idea.

Here was quite a modification of the strait-laced theo-
ries prominent in this community in morals and religion.
Yet in spiritual affairs, those pertaining to the remote
and indefinite future, the strictest rules of conduct were
still laid down, the slightest departure from which en-
tailed social death. Heaven and hell remained fixed
in their respective localities, weighed and measured, the
streets of gold laid out, and the boundaries of the lakes
of sulphuric fire defined. All were accurately mapped,
the populations were given, and available accommo-
dations estimated for future applicants. Moreover,
there were the roads plainly distinguishable to the one
and to the other, the one narrow, rugged, and grass-
grown, the other broad, and dusty from much travel.
This the parent knew; of it he was sure though sure
of nothing else ; though not sure of anything relating
to this world, such as the earth, the trees, his senses,
himself — for so his parent had told him, and his
grandparent had told his parent, and so on back to
the beginning, and therefore it must be so; and the
heir to such a long and distinctly defined inheritance
must be required to live up to his high privileges.
The dim and indistinct future was thus by faith

PARENTS AND CHILDREN. 91

brought near, materialized, nieasured, and fitted to the
actions of every-day life. But the more proximate
and practical future of the child, that alone of which
from his own experience the parent could speak, that
which might teach the child how best to live in this
world, that was left chiefly to the rising generation.
In other words, concerning things of which the child
knows as much as the parent, the severest rules of
conduct are laid down; concerning things of which the
child knows nothing, and of which the parent, by the
practical experiences of his life, should have learned
something, profound attention must be paid to the
opinions of the child — as if the vagaries of the youth
were a surer guide to ultimate success than the maturer
judgment of the parent.

In ancient times, as to some extent at present in
the older countries, custom forbade children any will
of their own, and almost any identity; till nearly of
mature age they were kept in the background, hidden
from the world as if not yet born into it. In Spain
the son, with head uncovered, stands speechless in the
father's presence until permission be given him to sit
or speak, and the daughter is kept secluded in the
nursery or confined to the women's special part of the
house until a husband is brought her and she is told
to marry. Of a wealthy Californian lady living in
Los Angeles I was told that, in the good old time
when Anglo-Americans were few in the land, at
the age of thirteen, on entering the church one
day in company with other members of the family,
according to their custom, a gentleman was pointed
out to her as the one destined to be her husband;
and she was directed by her father, without further
notice, to step up to the altar and be married, which
she did accordingly, ''thinking nothing of it," as
she affirms. In France and elsewhere it is some-
what similar, but not quite so bad. Now, and par-
ticularly in new and rapidly developing countries,
custom in this regard is drifting toward the opposite

92 THE COUNTRY BOY BECOMES A BOOKSELLER.

extreme. In the eastern states of America there is
a perpetual loosening of parental authority; and in
California, if the fathers and mothers escape entire
overthrow they do well. The wilful maiden who
would marry the unapproved object of her fancy
steps aboard a railway train, is whisked away to dis-
tant parts, and soon a letter comes back asking par-
don and a reconciliation, which are usually granted
in time. Surely simple justice would seem to demand
that those who had brought a daughter into being,
nursed her through infancy, watched over her in
childhood, tenderly feeding and clothing, educating
and loving her, should have their wishes and their
judgment respected in so important a step as mar-
riage. None should marry without mutual love. The
parent has no right to compel the daughter to marry
against her will; neither has the daughter a right to
marry against the will of her parents, except in cases
most extreme. There should be love; but love may
be directed. It is not necessary when falling in love
to fall out with reason and common -sense. Love
based on judgment is the only sound and lasting love.
To marry for wealth is the most contemptible of all,
but better it is that a woman should sell herself for so
much money to a man of worth than fling herself
away for the worthless love of a worthless fellow. It
is no credit to a good woman to love a bad man.
Marry for love as you live by your conscience, but
let it be an enlightened love, neither ignoble, nor
base, nor heathenish. Consult the eternal fitness of
things; let the worthless mate, but let not the girl
of cultivation, beauty, intelligence, and refinement
throw herself away on a brainless, shiftless, or dis-
solute young man, because she happens to fancy the
color of his eyes or the curl of his mustache. And
of this fitness who is the better judge, the experi-
enced parent, solicitous for the welfare of the child,
or the lovesick girl, fancy- ridden, and blinded by
passion and intriguing arts? The days for blind

THE COMING CALIFORNIANS. 93

cupids have passed; the world has so far progressed
that the son of Aphrodite may now, with safety to
the race, open his eyes.

For the protection of worthy unsophisticated young
men, so that they may not be seduced to their de-
struction by designing maidens or their mothers, a
Babylonian marriage -market would not be out of
place, such as Herodotus spoke of, where young
women may be put up at auction and sold as wives
to the highest bidder, and the premium brought by
the beautiful be given as a dowry with the ill-favored,
so that each may give her husband either beauty or
wealth, for there should be equity and compensation
in all such dealings.

In all this the fault lies chiefly with the parents, or
with the state of society in which the family dwells.
The young may b j reared as well in California as else-
where, the maide::s may be as modest and the young
men as respectful, but in a new community, where all
is haste and freeness, it is more difficult for the heads
of families so desiring it to make their children de-
corous and retiring than in older and more settled
states. This, however, will right itself in time. There
is no place in the world where the rising generation
bids fair to obtain so high a development as in Cali-
fornia; let us hope that simplicity, refinement, and
respectful obedience may accompany it.

A wise parent will study the idiosyncrasies of the
child, and before permitting a son to adopt a profession
or embark in a pursuit he will analyze his character
and consider the qualities of mind and body, setting
apart temper, mood, and talent, one from the other,
and then determine from the nature and quality of
the material before him what sort of man, under given
conditions, it will make, and how it can be best moulded
and directed so as to achieve the highest success. And
if the parent is correct in his judgment, and the child
is not swayed by passion or prejudice, both will ar-
rive at about the same conclusion as to what is best

94 THE COUNTRY BOY BECOMES A BOOKSELLER.

to be done. Talk with the boy about his future
occupation, and with the girl of the lover whom she
would make her husband; then let the j)arent decide,
and not the child. This is the office of the parent;
to this end young men and maidens were given
parents.

The two courses in life at this time offered me were
each not without attractions, and for a time I hesitated,
thinking that if I adopted one it would be well, and
if I adopted the other it would be better. Nor should
I feel much more competent to decide a similar case
at present. To have the elements of success within
is the main thing; it then does not import so much
in what direction they are developed. "Non quis, sed
quomodo;" it matters little what one does, it matters
everything how one does it. Napoleon used to ask,
'' Qu'est-ce qu'il a fait?" not ^•' Who is his father?" To
be a good brick- maker is infinitely better than to be
a bad book-maker. If the inherent elements of suc-
cess are present they are pretty sure to find a channel.
As Kuskin says of it, "Apricot out of currant, great
man out of small, did never yet art or effort make;
and in a general way, men have their excellence nearly
fixed for them when they are born."

Emerson is of the opinion that "each man has his
own vocation. The talent is the call. There is one
direction in which all space is open to him. He has
faculties silently inviting him thither to endless exer-
tion. He is like a ship in the river — he runs against
obstructions on every side but one; on that side all
obstruction is taken away, and he sweeps serenely
over God's depths into the infinite sea. This talent
and this call depend on his own organization, or the
mode in which the general soul incarnates itself in
him." And more beautifully than any of them Jean
Paul Richter remarks, "Whoever is not forced by
necessity, but feels within him, growing with his
growth, an inclination and declination of his magnetic

CONCERNING A CAREER. 95

needle, let him follow its pointing, trusting to it as to
a compass in the desert."

This marriage of my sister's changed the course not
only of my own destiny but of that of every member
of my family. It was the hinge on which the gate
swung to open a new career to all of us. Puritan
Granville was a good place to be reared in, but it
was a better place to emigrate from. It was in the
world but not of the world. Success there would be
a hundred acres of land, a stone house, six children,
an interest in a town store or a grist-mill, and a dea-
conship in the church.

But how should I decide the question before me?
What had I upon which to base a decision? Nothing
but my feelings, my passions, and propensities — un-
safe guides enough when coupled with experience, but
absolutely dangerous when left to shift for themselves.
By such were guided the genius that made Saint Just
and Robespierre, Alcibiades and Byron, Caligula and
Nero; and the greater the talents the greater the
perversion of youthful fire and intelligence if mis-
directed.

Merimee, when about ten years of age, was deceived
by his elders, whereupon he adopted for his maxim,
"Remember to distrust," and retiring within himself
he incrusted his sensibilities with indiiference and
maintained a cold reserve forever after. Yet beneath
this cynical crust burned love and sentiment, burned
all the fiercer from confinement, and finally burst
forth in his Lettres a une inconnue, whether a real or
a mythical personage no one seemed to know. In
his youth he had lacked wise counsel and kind con-
siderate direction; that was all.

Study had always strong fascinations for me, and
the thought of sometime becoming a great lawyer or
statesman set heart and head rapturously a-twirl. I
cannot remember the time when I could not read,
recite the catechism, and ride and drive a horse. I
am told that I was quick to learn when young, and

9<5 THE COUNTRY BOY BECOMES A BOOKSELLER.

that at the age of three years I could read the New
Testament without having to spell out many of the
words. If that be true the talent must have ended
with my childhood, for later on taking up study I
found it almost impossible to learn, and still more
difficult to remember, whatever talent I may have
possessed in that direction having been driven out of
me in the tread-mill of business.

One winter I was sent to the brick school-house, a
rusty red monument of orthodox efforts, long since
torn down. There presided over the boys at one time
my mother's brother. The Howes engaged in school-
teaching naturally, they and their children, boys and
girls, without asking themselves why. The family
have taught from the Atlantic to the Pacific, in New
York, Ohio, Iowa, Nevada, Oregon, and California.
They were good teachers, and they were good for
nothing else. Take from them their peculiar knack
of imparting knowledge and there were left only bones
and nerves kept in motion by a purposeless brain.
The one who taught in Granville had written a
grammar, and all the boys were compelled to study it.
It consisted chiefly of rules which could not be under-
stood, and contained little of the kind of examples
which remained fastened in the mind to be afterward
of practical value. It is safe to say that children now
learn twice as much with half the trouble. Then the
study of grammar under a grammar- making uncle did
me iittle good.

Those Howe grammar lessons were the curse of
that winter. Often I wept over the useless and dis-
tasteful drudgery, but in vain. Tears were a small
argument with my parents where they deemed duty
to be concerned; and the brother made my mother
believe that if I failed in one jot or tittle of his
grammar there would be no hope for me afterward
in any direction. Mathematics I enjoyed. Stretched
on the hearth before a blazing fire, with book and
slate, I worked out my problems during the long

YOUTHFUL ASPIRATIONS. 97

evenings, and then took the Howe grammar lesson as
I would castor-oil.

My studies were mixed with house and barn duties,
such as paring apples, pounding rusk, feeding and
milking the cows, and scores of like occupations. Long
before daylight I would be called from my slumber
to work and study, a summons I usually responded
to with alacrity. Then my mother called me good,
and my home life was happy. Soon after breakfast,
with books, and tin pail well stored with luncheon,
I was out into the snappish air and over the hill to
school. But still the Howe grammar hung over all
my joys like a grim shadow, darkening all delights.
For, in that I did not love the grammar, the Howe
did not love me, and he made the place exceedingly
uncomfortable, until finally my mother became satis-
fied that I was injudiciously and unfairly treated, and
to my great joy took me from the purgatory.

I was passionately fond of music, not so much of
listening as performing. The intensest aspirations
of my life seem to have taken this form ; I longed to do
rather than to enjoy. Purposeless pleasure was not
pleasant to me. To-day I find neither satisfaction nor
profit in reading or writing, or doing anything for my
own personal enjoyment. There must be an aim, and
a high, immediate, and direct one, if in my doing or
being I am to find pleasure.

In the matter of music, there was within me some-
thing which sighed for expression, and to throw it off
in song or through the melodies of an instrument was
the simplest method of relief. This restless desire to
unburden my breast was present in my earliest con-
sciousness. It was always in some way stifled in my
younger days. There were singing-schools which I
could and did attend, but bleating in concert with a
class of boys and girls was not what I wanted. By
saving up dimes and half-dollars I succeeded in bu3dng
an old violin. I paid four dollars for it; and I re-
member with what trepidation I invested my entire

Lit. Ind. 7

98 THE COUNTRY BOY BECOMES A BOOKSELLER.

capital in the instrument. For several years I scraped
persistently and learned to play badly a few vulgar
tunes. I had no teacher and no encouragement; I was
laughed at and frowned at, until finally I abandoned
it. Fiddling in that saturnine society was almost as
much a sin as card-playing; for if cards were for
gamblers, fiddles were for dancers, and dancing was a
devilish pastime. Christ never danced ; and although
David did, our minister used to apologize for him by
saying that his was a slow, measured, kingly step,
something of a Shaker dance — at all events nothing
like the whirling embracements of these later times.
To return to the matter of choosing between study
and business. Finding myself possessed of these and
many other burning aspirations, without stopping to
count the cost, childlike I struck at once for the prize.
If self-devotion and hard study could win, it should
be mine. So I chose the life of a student, and spent
another year in preparing for college. There was an
academy as well as a college in the place; indeed, as
I have before remarked, my native town, in its way,
w^as quite a seat of learning.

It was now the winter of 1847-8, and bravely I set
about my self-imposed task, studying hard, and for a
time making fair progress. I was still obliged to work
morning and evening, and, with now and then a holi-
day, during the vacations. I was much alone in my
studies, although I attended my teacher as zealously
as if I had been under competitive influence. My
nearest and indeed almost the only companion I had
at this time was my cousin Edgar Hillyer, afterward
United States judge for Nevada. In age he was a
year my senior, but in ability and accomplishments
many years. He was a good student, apt in debate,
well read in classical literature, nimble on the violin,
a rollicking, jolly companion, muscular, active, and
courageous, and could hold his own with the best of
them on the play-ground. When violin-playing be-

ALMIGHTY MONEY. 99

came fashionable in churches he sawed away at a
base-viol behind the church choir, reading a novel
under cover of his huge instrument during the sermon.
He was given a little to sarcasm at times, which cut
me somewhat; otherwise we were true and stanch
friends. He it was who aided and influenced me
more than any other in many things. In advance of
me in studies, he entered college and I was left alone.
Still I toiled on, notwithstanding occasional letters
from Buffalo which tended to unsettle my plans. Be-
fore the time for entering college arrived I had lost
somewhat of my interest in study : without the stimu-
lus of sympathizing friends and competition, the unfed
fire of my ambition died away.

Meanwhile Mr Derby, who was an enthusiast in his
business, had made occasional visits to my father's
house, and in listening to his conversation I became
attracted toward Buffalo. There was, moreover, in me
a growing desire for independence; not that I was
dissatisfied with my home so much as with myself.
I longed to be doing something that would show re-
sults; I wanted to be a man, to be a great man, to be
a man at once. The road to learning was slow and
hard; besides, my father was not rich, and although
ready to deny himself anything for me, I could see
that to continue my plan of study would be a heavy
tax on him. Yet I loved it, and, as the sequel will
show, left it here only to take it up at a future time.
Now I wanted money, I felt the need of money, and
I determined to have money. Not to hug and hoard,
not to love and cherish as a thing admirable in itself,
not as a master to bid me fetch and carry all my days,
nor as a god to fall before and worship, sealing the
heart from human sympathy, but as a servant to do
my bidding, as an Aladdin lamp to buy me indepen-
dence, leisure, culture.

Contented poverty, cheered by the sweets of medi-
tation and the play of intellect in friendly converse,
the priceless wealth of mind drawn freely and with-

100 THE COUNTRY BOY BECOMES A BOOKSELLER.

out cost from books, which are the world's storehouse
of knowledge, this has found its devotees in all ages.
Most of the thouQ^hts and words thus enofendered have
been idle; some little of such intercourse, however, has
been productive of the greatest results.

But this would never satisfy me. Mine must be a
fruitful life, as I have said. And at the portal of
every ambition, even of intellectual ambition, if it be
high or rich in results, at the door of every soul
aspiration, of every taste and tendency, of every
moral and social sentiment, stands money. Even the
doors of love, and of heaven itself, are opened by
money. To the mere money-grubber intellectual joys
are denied. His money is useless to him when he
gets it. Of his scholarly friend Iccius, who sold his
library and went to Arabia Felix, the El Dorado of
the day, Horace asked if it was true that he grudged
the Arabs their wealth. Like many a scholar in Cali-
fornia, this Roman Iccius was grievously disappointed.

How marvellous is money! each dollar thrown into
the mill of successful business becoming the grandsire
of many dollars. As society is organized, a moneyless
man is scarcely a man at all, only a beast of burden,
fortunate if he attain the position of hireling, even
as in the time of Socrates, who said, "Nowadays
he is wisest who makes most money." In common
with others, this moneyless man entered the world
with a body and a soul, since which time he has
made no addition to his entity; he has body and soul
still, perhaps a mind, and these are his stock in trade
on which he must subsist. To feed his senses some-
thing must be sold, and having nothing else he sells
himself He may sell his body to save his soul, or
sell the soul to save the body, or sell intellect to
keep the rest together. To all our great cities, from
farm and hamlet, mind by want or ambition pinched
is driven to market, offered for sale to the highest
bidder, and sold and slaughtered like cattle in the
shambles. Culture and refinement are for sale; and

THE PRICE OF INTELLECT. 101

too often, as Whipple complains, at ruinously low
prices. '' To a man of letters, especially, who may be
holding off in hope of a rise in the article, nothing
can be more irritating than the frequent spectacle of
authors whose souls are literally 'not above nine-
pences' — who will squander honor, truth, perception
of character, sympathy with all that is pure and high
in ideal being, in short, a writer's whole stock in
trade, on the cunning hucksters of ninepenny pam-
phlets, thus running the risk of damnation in both
worlds for the paltriest consideration, when a little
judgment might have given them the chance of a life,
death, and burial in octavos." .,.

I do not know which is the more deplorable, to be
without money or to be its slave. Money is the best
of servants, but the worst of masters. As a servant
it is the open sesame to all the world, the master-key
to all energies, the passport to all hearts ; as a master
it is a very demon, warping the judgment, searing the
conscience, and fossilizing the affections. Wrapped
by cold Selene in an eternal slumber deep as that
of Endymion, its victims are lost to the beauties
of earth and the glories of heaven. Give me the in-
dependence, the command of myself, of my time, my
talents, my opportunities, that wealth alone can give,
but save me from the gluttony of greed, the fetters of
avarice, the blind beastliness and intellectual degrada-
tion engendered by an inordinate heaping up of riches.

We are born under the domination of nature, serfs
of the soil, and under this suzerainty we remain
until the intellect rises up and to some extent eman-
cipates us. Nevertheless, like crystals, the constitu-
ents of our being are self-existent and perfect, how-
ever minute, and we assume volume and importance
^by accretion alone. To the penniless young man
who would cultivate his talents and make somethinof
of himself I would say, at the outset or as soon
as practicable, get money wherewith to buy time.
This is the order of natural progress : first the

102 THE COUNTRY BOY BECOMES A BOOKSELLER.

physical man, then the intellectual. Civilization
does not bloom on an empty stomach. Get gold ; not
like the one-eyed Arimaspi, who could see nothing
else, but accumulate something, however little; then
shun debt, and, although your liberty necessitates
your dining on a crust of bread, you are on the royal
road to manhood. It matters less how much you
have than that you have something. There is more
difference between a thousand dollars and nothing
than there is between a thousand and a hundred
thousand. There is such a thing as too much money.
The young student of unlimited wealth and liberty
has liiore to contend with in holding to his purpose
than the poorest scholar, for the temptation to spend
and enjoy is so much the greater. Too much wealth
is poverty: too much wealth leads to a loss of time,
of heart, of head — the only true wealth.

Adopt a calling, if it be only for a time, and labor
in it for your liberty; labor diligently, as if your life
depended on it, as indeed it does. Serve that you may
command. Get money, but get it only in order that
you may ransom mind, for it is mind and not money
that makes the man. As Bulwer says of it, " Keep to
the calling that assures a something out of which you
may extract independence until you are independent.
Give to that calling all your heart, all your mind.
If I were a hatter, or tailor, or butcher, or baker, I
should resolve to consider my calling the best in the
world, and devote to it the best of my powers. In-
dependence once won, then be a Byron or Scott if
you can."

This competency, moreover, is within the reach of
all able-bodied young men. It consists less in what
one has than in what one need have; less in large re-
sources than in moderate desires. It takes but little,
after all, to satisfy our actual requirements ; but once
embarked upon the sea of artificial wants or fancied
necessities and there is no haven. He who earns or
has an income of a dollar a day and spends but half

POVERTY A SIN. 103

of it is independent, and if satisfied, rich. He who
spends all his earnings or income is poor, though he
has a thousand dollars a day; doubly poor is he, in
that he must needs waste his life to spend his money.
He who spends all is the slave of his own fortune;
he who lays by something every day is always his
own master. And more; in making and saving there
is a double profit: the addition of skill thus called
forth to one's stock of experience, and the addition of
money thus earned to one's stock of cash; this point
reached, it makes a vast difference whether the time
at one's command be spent in fruitful study, which costs
nothing, or in squandering one's accumulations, which
costs time and too often yields nervous prostration and
mental debasement. This weaving during the day,
only like Penelope to unravel at night, is one of the
worst features attending the efforts of our young men.
" Qui perd peche." He who loses, sins. Whether
a man be in the wrong or not, if unsuccessful he is
blamed. But no man in this age is uniformly and
permanently unsuccessful unless there be something
wrong about him, some glaring imperfection of com-
position or character. The rule is that success at-
tends merit; the unsuccessful is pretty sure to be
faulty. No one has a right to be poor in California.
Unaccompanied by ill health or other misfortune,
poverty is a sin. It is true that wealth is not always
a mark of merit. Jove made Plutus, the god of
wealth, blind, so that he should not discern knaves
from honest men. Nevertheless, no boy or man true
to himself, who does his duty, laboring with his hands,
or head, or both, as God ordains that men, and beasts,
and birds alike shall labor, practising meanwhile rea-
sonable economy, will for any length of time, except
under extraordinary circumstances, remain depend-
ent. Though born naked, providence furnishes the
means w^ierewith to clothe ourselves. If we refuse
to stretch forth our hands and make use of them, we
rightly suffer for it. In all this I am speaking of

104 THE COUNTRY BOY BECOMES A BOOKSELLER.

simple independence, rather than success and failure
resulting from attempts to achieve great things, to
which I shall have occasion to allude hereafter.

Thus unsettled in my mind by the allurements of
active business and city life, my attention distracted
from studies, discontented in the thought of plodding
a poverty-stricken path to fame, and unwilling to
burden my father for a term of years, I asked and
obtained leave to enter the shop; selling books, for
the nonce, offering stronger attractions than studying
them.

Nor am I now disposed to cavil over the wisdom of
my final decision. Commercial and industrial training
offers advantages in the formation of mind, as well as
scientific and literary training. School is but a mental
gymnasium. Little is there learned except the learn-
ing how to learn; and the system that aims at this
gymnastic exercise of mind, rather than cramming,
is the best. He who studies most does not always
learn most, nor is he who reads most always the
best read. Understanding, and not cramming, is
education. Learn how to form opinions of your
own rather than fill your head with the opinions of
others. What a farce it is, on commencement or
examination day, to parade a crowd of boys or girls,
after three or four years' skimming through school-
books, upon a stage before friends and sjDectators, and
with music and flourish of trumpets to make a grand
display of their acquirements, and end by giving them
a certificate of learning which shall forever after set
at rest the question of their education! When just
ready to begin to learn, the diploma intimates that
their studying days are over; those, consequently,
who make the loudest noise on exhibition days are
seldom heard from afterward. Even if in following
a collegiate course the student learns fairly well how
to study, if this acquisition is not combined with
habits of industry and application it avails little.

EDUCATION AND PROFESSIONS. 105

In regard to education, there is too much, teaching
from books and too little from nature. Books are
useful to supplement the instructions of nature, not
to forestall them. Early training should be such as to
instil a taste for study, rather than a studying; such
as teaches how to learn, rather than an attempt to
acquire knowledge. This done, that is, the taste ac-
quired and the knowledge how to get knowledge
gained, every hour of life thereafter will be a gar-
nering of knowledge. Hence if I might have another
chance at life, with my present ideas I w^ould pay the
most careful attention to three things: I would bend
all the powers within me to learn how to think, how
to write, and how to speak, for I could then command
myself and others. The highest teachings are those
of truth; the highest morality that which springs
from simple truth. To love the right for its own
sake is the only sure ground on which to build a
moral fabric. To hate knavery, licentiousness, and all
iniquity because they are hateful, because they are
low, vulgar, debasing, and misery-breeding — this is a
healthful and hopeful moral ideal.

In business, plodding industry and steady applica-
tion lie at the foundation of all success. Though in an
economic sense credit is not capital, in a commercial
sense it is. Brilliant talents and extraordinary shrewd-
ness as often outwit the possessor as others. There
is no field in commerce for a great display of genius.
To buy, and sell, and get gain is the object; he w^ho
fancies himself a prophet able to solve business rid-
dles of the future becomes a gambler, and oftener
loses than wins. Speculation there may be, but it
must be speculation backed by capital, and conducted
on sound business principles rather than on flights of
fancy or theoretical schemes.

Though few trades are without their tricks, the in-
dustrial life, on the whole, tends to accuracy and
veracity. The man of business adopts honesty as a
calling; it is at once the capital he employs in buying

106 THE COUNTRY BOY BECOMES A BOOKSELLER.

and the guaranty he offers in selhng. Wealth being
the object sought, character is credit, and credit money.
No merchant can long cheat his customers and live;
no manufacturer can make and sell a spurious article
for any length of time. Dishonesty in business not
only does not pay, but, if continued, it is certain and
absolute ruin. Trustworthiness usually attends ap-
plication. Among the laboring classes, as a rule,
skilful workmen are moral men. The habits neces-
sarily growing out of continuous mental or physical
application are such as promote moral growth. He
w^ho is deeply occupied in a worthy calling has little
time for wickedness.

The political life, on the other hand, tends to arti-
fice and circumvention as the bases of success in
that direction. All is fair in war, and while honor
must be maintained among thieves, opposite parties
and the public may be fleeced with impunity. The
conscience of a merchant is in his pocket, that of a
politician is in his popularity; with the one interest
is almost always identical with honor, but with the
other success is oftener the result of chicanery or
bribery than of honest merit. And yet it does not
speak well for commerce when we see the leading
manufacturers of the United States combining for
purposes of wholesale bribery, and merchants gener-
ally allowing officials commissions on goods bought for
the government.

At an early date in his public career Cicero dis-
covered that the people of Rome had dull ears but
sharp eyes. The unprecedented honors devised for
him by the Sicilians were little talked of at Rome,
whereupon he determined that thenceforth the eyes
of the Romans should ever behold him. Daily he
frequented the Forum; no one was denied admit-
tance at his gate, and even sleep was never made an
excuse for not granting an audience. In this Cicero
w^as serving Cicero and not Rome. If they were
seized, these woi'thy patriots, with honesty enough to

POLITICS AND THE REMEDY. 107

say with Voltaire, ''Le peuple n'est rien," immedi-
ately their occupation was gone. Theirs is not the
simple ingenuous love that makes the land their
fons et origo, the soil that fostered them their parent.
Neither is it love of countrymen or loyalty to rulers.
There is no passion in their patriotism.

Our country is not ruled by its best and wisest men,
nor under its present regime will it ever be. The good
and wise are few; the irrational and prejudiced are
many, and as long as the majority rule, office can be
obtained only by pandering to the lower passions. In
this senseless display of party pride and prejudice,
which men call patriotism, it is not liberty itself that
is worshipped, but the tinsel and paraphernalia of
liberty. As in the cunning days of sleek lago, pre-
fermeot goes by letter and affection, and not by fair
gradations where each second stands heir to the first.

Opposing parties are a necessity in any free politi-
cal system ; not because one side is better or worse than
the other, but as stimulants to advancement, checks
on premature progress, and as a means of preventing
that demoralization which always attends unlimited
or irresponsible power. But the machinery of gov-
ernment must be worked on some other principles than
those of lying and cheating before it can be very wor-
shipful. The people, who are the government, must
awake and act. The wildest delusion of our day is
that good legislation can come from the representa-
tives of an ignorant and immoral people, who at pres-
ent are, to a great extent, our voters; or that arguing
with the bad agents of a bad government will make
them better. '' Opinions are numbered, not weighed,"
said Pliny, "there is nothing so unequal as equality."
The specious fallacy of universal suffrage was better
understood by the Romans than by us, it seems. This
state of things will cease only when politics cease to
be a trade followed for gain, and when both the trade
and the hucksters who follow it shall be diss^raced in
the eyes of all good men. Before our government can

108 THE COUNTRY BOY BECOMES A BOOKSELLER.

settle upon an enduring foundation it must be recon-
structed in form and in execution. Young as it is the
elements of decay are plainly apparent; our popular
liberty is being consumed by what it feeds on. But
before the end there will be wars, political and com-
mercial wars, for the people will not always submit to
the tyranny of monopoly, iniquitous trusts, and other
impositions of combined capital. More than once in
the history of despotism have the feuds of Roman
Orsini and Colonna, of Grecian Isao-oraidse and Ale-
mseonidse, given birth to freedom. "A superior man
indeed is Kea Pihyuh!" says Confucius; "when a
good government prevails in his state, he is to be
found in office. When a bad government prevails,
he can roll his principles up and keep them in his
breast."

What in these latter days should be the prayer of
the patriot having the true interests of America and
of mankind at heart? From our friends, from those
who would serve us, who would lay their invaluable
lives on the altar of their country, from political dema-
gogues, political libertinism, political peculation, from
excess of voting and constant rotation in office, from
legislators who spend in personal and party strife,
to keep themselves in office, the people's time and
moi^cy which should be spent in the study of the
nation's welfare — from cant and corruption of every
kind, good Lord deliver us! particularly from the
humbug and hypocrisy of political journals; ay,
from the journals themselves, as well as from the
parties, and principles, and persons they advocate,
deliver us, we beseech thee, lest we be tempted with
'The Man without a Country' to exclaim, ''Damn
the United States !" The politician is usually as lean
as Cassius in patriotism, and as hungry for place.
The professional man, if with his broader philosoph}'"
and deeper insight into certain secret phases of
human nature he escape laxity in great things, and
exaggeration in little things, does well.

THE MENTAL DISCIPLINE OF COMMERCE. 109

The law as a profession holds up its glittering prize
to the youth burning for distinction. Its labors are
arduous; its fortunes precarious. One in a hundred,
perhaps, attains some degree of local eminence; not
one in a thousand achieves a national reputation;
ninety-five of every hundred secure in return for long
and expensive preparation nothing further than a life
of drudgery, fortunate, indeed, if they escape disrepu-
table penury.

In the commercial spirit there are two oppugnant
elements, boldness and conservatism, which underlie
all advancement, and act as powerful stimulants in the
strengthening and developing of mind. These prop-
erly united and nicely balanced produce the highest
type of intellect, whether for action in the field of com-
merce, or of law, or of letters. In the absence of
either quality, or if disproportionately joined, discom-
fiture is inevitable. The industrial spirit, perhaps
more perfectly than the professional, engenders pa-
tience, sobriety, self-control, which tend to thrift and
respectability ; at the same time there can be no great
things accomplished in business without risk or spec-
ulation. Now, the principles that lead to success are
identical in all human activities, in letters, law, and
philosophy, as well as in industry and commerce —
originality of thought, a letting-fly of the imagination,
a restless impatience over meaningless forms and
empty traditions, and bold independence in action
united with caution and a love of truth for truth's
sake. Speculation and conservatism: the one the
propelling power which sends forward the machine,
the other the brake that saves it from destruction.
One is as necessary as the other; and the two prop-
erly united, under ordinary circumstances, are as
certain to achieve success as the absence of these con-
ditions is certain to result in failure.

About the 1st of August, 1848, I left Granville
for Buffalo, where I arrived on the 9th. I was now

110 THE COUNTRY BOY BECOMES A BOOKSELLER.

sixteen years of age, and this may be regarded as my
starting out in life. Then I left my father's house,
and ever since have I been my own master, and made
my own way in the world. There was no railway from
my native town, and my journey was made in a canal-
boat as far as Cleveland, and thence by steam-boat
over Lake Erie to Buffalo. The captain of the canal-
boat was a brother of my uncle Hilly er, and permission
was given me to ride horse on the towpath in lieu of
paying fare. I gladly availed myself of the oppor-
tunity, and took my turn night and day during the
whole journey. The day after my arrival in Buffalo
I was permitted a view of the bookseller's shop. It
would not be regarded as much of a store nowadays,
but it was the largest establishment I had ever seen,
and the, to me, huge piles of literature, the endless
ranges of book-shelves, the hurrying clerks, the austere
accountants, the lord paramount proprietor, all filled
me with awe not unaccompanied by heart-sinkings.
A day or so was spent in looking about the city, accom-
panying my sister to the market, and attending a great
political convention which was then in full blast. On
the Monday following my arrival I was put to work
in the bindery over the counting-room, and initiated
into the mysteries of the book business by folding and
stitching reports of the aforesaid convention. There I
was kept, living with my sister, and undergoing in the
shop a vast amount of unpalatable though doubtless
very necessary training, till the following October, when
the bindery was sold. I was then left for a time in an
uncertain, purgatorial, purposeless state, with noth-
ing in particular to occupy me. After being given
plainly to understand by my brother-in-law that my
person was not at all necessary to his happiness, I was
finally thrust into the counting-house at the foot of
the ladder, as the best means of getting rid of me.

The fact is, I was more ambitious than amiable, and
my brother-in-law was more arbitrary than agree-
able. I was stubborn and headstrong, impatient

ATTEMPT AT BUSINESS. Ill

under correction, chafing over every rub against my
country angularities ; he distant, unsympathizing, and
injudicious in his management of me. I felt that I
was not understood, and saw no way of making my-
self known to him. Any attempt to advance or to
rise above the position first assigned me was frowned
down; not because he hated, or wished to injure, or
persecute me, but because he thought boys should
not be presumptuoup, that they should be kept in the
background — especially pale, thin, thoughtful, super-
sensitive brothers-in-law.

For some six months I held this anomalous posi-
tion, till one day the chief book-keej)er intimated to
me that, in the opinion of the head of the house,
nature had never designed me for a bookseller — a
species of divinity in the eyes of these men born but
not made — and that should I retire from active duty
no one about the premises would be overwhelmed
with sorrow. In plain English, I was discharged.
The blood which mantled my face under a sense of
what I deemed indignity and wrong was my only re-
sponse; yet in my heart I was glad. I saw that this
was no place for me, that my young life was being
turned to wormwood, and that my bosom was be-
coming a hell of hatefulness.

I have never in my life, before that time or since,
entertained a doubt of reasonable success in any rea-
sonable undertaking. I now determined to start in
business on my own account. Since I could not work
for the Buffalo bookselling people, I would work for
myself I was entirely without money, having re-
ceived nothing for my services — which indeed were
worth nothing — yet I borrowed enough to take me
back to Ohio, and Mr Derby, it appears, had suffi-
cient confidence to trust me for a few cases of goods.
Shipping my stock up the lake to Sandusky, and
thence by rail to Mansfield, the terminus of the road,
I hurried on to Granville for a horse and wagon,
with which I proceeded back to Mansfield, loaded up,

112 THE COUXTRY BOY BECOMES A BOOKSELLER.

and began distributing my goods among the country
merchants of that vicinity. For about four months
I travelled in this manner over different parts of
my native state, selling, remitting, and ordering more
goods, and succeeding in the main very well; that is
to say, I paid my expenses, and all the obligations I
had before contracted, and had enough left to buy a
silver watch, and a suit of black broadcloth. Never
was watch like that watch, fruit as it was of my first
commercial earnings.

Winter approaching, I sold out my stock, paid my
debts, and went home. Owing to my success, it seems,
I had risen somewhat in the estimation of the Buffalo
book magnates, and just as my mind was made up to
enter school for the winter I was summoned back to
Buffalo, with instructions to bring my youngest sister,
Mary, afterward Mrs Trevett. We embarked at
Sandusky, encountering the first night out a storm,
and after beating about among the short jerky waves
of the lake for two days, we reached Buffalo on the
8th of December, 1849. This time I was to enter
the store as a recognized clerk, and was to receive a
salary of one hundred dollars a year from the first of
January, 1850.

I now began to look upon myself as quite a man.
A hundred dollars was a great deal of money; I was
over seventeen years of age, had travelled, had been
in business, and was experienced. So I relaxed a little
from puritanical ideas of propriety. I bought a high
hat and a cane; smoked now and then surreptitiously
a cigar; a gaudy tie adorned my neck, and a flashy
ring encircled my finger. I do not think I ever held
myself in higher estimation before or since; at no
time of my life did I ever presume so much on my
knowledge, or present personally so fine an appear-
ance. On the street I fancied all eyes to be upon
me; the girls particularly, I used to think, were all
in love with me.

Honored and trusted, my moroseness evaporated at

GEOEGE H. DERBY. 113

intervals. Soon I found myself more in sympathy
with my employer, and felt that he now began some-
what to understand me. And here I will pay my
tribute of respect to the memory of George H. Derby.
He was of unblemished reputation, thoroughly sound
in morals, sincere in religion, honest in his business,
kind in his family, warm and lovable in his friend-
ships, patriotic as a citizen, and liberal, chivalrous,
and high-spirited as a man and a gentleman. He was
among the best friends I ever had — he, and his wife,
my sister. He seemed to repose the utmost confidence
in me, trusted me, a green boy in the midst of the
whirlpool of the Californian carnival, with property
which he could ill afford to lose, the risk being re-
garded as little less than madness on his part by
business acquaintances. His death I felt more keenly
than that of any other man who ever died. His
goodness will remain fresh in my memory to my dying
day. Yet, when thrown together as under our first
relations — he the master, I the boy — our dispositions
and natures were strangely out of tune. He held his
own peculiar views regarding the training and treat-
ment of relatives. He seemed to delight in squeezing
and tormenting, in a business way, all who were in
any wise allied to him by blood or marriage, and the
nearer the relationship the greater the persecution.
Of a didactic turn in all his relations, he was particu-
larly severe with me ; and it was only when a younger
brother of his was with him, one nearer to him than I,
and on whom his merciless words were showered, that
I found relief While but a child, and before I went
to Buffalo, or had ever been away from home, I was
sent into the backwoods of Ohio to obtain subscrip-
tions for a work on the science of government. Of
course I made a failure of it, enduring much head
sickness and heart sickness thereby, and was laughed
to scorn as a youth who would never succeed at any-
thing. My father, totally inexperienced in the book
business, but having a little money wherewith to make

Lit. Ind. 8

114 THE COUNTRY BOY BECOMES A BOOKSELLER.

the purcliase, was induced to take a cargo of books
down the Mississippi river, which proved to be another
failure and a severe loss. In all this my brother-in-law
seemed to care little so long as he sold his wares and
secured the money. All were fish, friend or foe, that
helped to swell the volume of his business.

With a sister ever kind to me, and an employer
really desirous of advancing my best interests, the
training I underwent at this period of my life was
about as injudicious for an ambitious, sensitive youth
as could well have been devised. Even after my re-
turn from Ohio I was at times headstrong, impatient
of restraint, impudent, angry, and at open war with
my brother-in-law; yet I was eager to learn, quick,
and intelligent, and would gladly have worked, early
and late, with faithful and willing diligence in any ad-
vancing direction. But it seemed that my employer
still considered it best for me to be kept down; to be
censured much and never praised; to have one after
another placed above me whom I very naturally
deemed no more capable than myself The conse-
quence was that during the greater part of my stay
in Buffalo I was in a sullen state of mad exasperation.
I was hateful, stubborn, and greatly to be blamed,
but the discipline I received only intensified these
faults, and tended in no wise to remove them. One
word of kindness, and I would have followed this man
to the death; yet while he crucified me he did not
mean to be cruel, and portions of the time I was
really happy in his society. I know he was full of
generous feeling for me even while I tried him most;
for when, after leaving for California, I sent him a
letter, opening my heart as I had never done before,
on receipt of it, as my sister told me, he threw him-
self upon the sofa and wept like a child.

The mould destined for me ill fitting my nature,
which would not be melted for recasting, or even made
to assume comeliness by attrition, I fell into my own
ways, which were ver}^ bad ways ; tramping the streets

THE CLERK'S LIFE. 115

at night witli jovial companions, indulging in midnight
suppers, and all-night dancings. Lo, how the puritan's
son has fallen 1 Conscience pricked faithfully at first.
I soon grew easier in mind; then reckless; and finally
neglecting my bible, my prayers, and all those Sabbath
restraints which hold us back from rushing headlong
to destruction, I gave myself over to hardness of heart.
Yet all this time I usually listened with enjoyment
and profit to one sermon on Sunday; I also attended
lectures given by Park Benjamin, G. P. P. James,
Gough, and others ; these and novel-reading comprised
my intellectual food.

Into that bookseller's shop I went with all the un-
tempted innocence of a child; out of it I came with the
tarnish of so-called manly experience. There I plucked
my first forbidden fruit from the tree of knowledge of
good and evil; yet the sense of right remained, and
that remorse which ever mixes bitter with the sweets
of sin. The inherent morality doctrine, and a trust-
ing to it, is flattering, but exceedingly risky. Men
and women, young and old, inherently good or inhe-
rently bad, nine times in ten will stand or fall accord-
ing to environment, according to influence, temptation,
companionship.

Every now and then I would turn over a new leaf;
bravely begin a diary, scoring the first page with high
resolves, such as total abstinence from every species
of wickedness, tea, coffee, wine, tobacco; determined
to think, speak, and do no evil, to walk always as be-
fore the eye of Omniscience, clean in heart, pure in
mind, and strong in body; in short, to be a perfect
man — which sublime state of things, wrought up be-
yond human endurance, would last sometimes for three
days or three weeks, and end in a collapse. Some-
times I would keep my diary up during the year ; then
again I would open a blank book, without fixed dates,
and discharge my burning thoughts into it in the hope
of relief Many a paving-block have I laid in hell;
that is to say, if good intentions are there used for

116 THE COUNTRY BOY BECOMES A BOOKSELLER.

treading on. No sooner had I departed from Buf-
falo on my way to California than all desire left me
to commit these foolish boyish excesses. There was
then no one to hoodwink, no watchful eye to circum-
vent; it ceased to be amusing when I was my own
master; so when thrown into the pandemonium at
San Francisco I had not the slightest inclination to
make a beast or a villain of myself.

But the time thus lost! How have I longed
to live again the former three years and the three
following. Six years of my young life as good as
squandered, in some respects worse, for instead of
laying the foundation for health, purity, intellect, I
was crushing my God-given faculties, damming the
source of hiofh thousfhts and ennobling: affections, and
sowing by Stygian streams the wild seeds of perdition.
At the time when of all others the plant needs judi-
cious care, when the hard soil needs softening, the
ill-favored branches pruning, the destroyer steps in
and places locusts on the leaves and worms about the
roots.

How I have longed to go back and place myself
with a riper experience under my own tuition, and
see what would come of it ! How I would gather in
those golden opportunities which were so ruthlessly
thrown away; how I would prize those hours, and
days, and years so flippantly regarded; how I would
cherish and cultivate that body and mind so wellnigh
wrecked on the shoals of youthful folly! Why could
we not have been born old, and from decrepitude with
learning and wisdom have grown young, and so have
had the benefit of our wealth of experience in the
enjoyment of our youth! It seems that if I had
only known something of what life is and the impor-
tance of right living, I could have made almost any-
thing of myself So has thought many another; and
so thinking, life appears such a precious delusion —
the life which to know requires living, and which is
lived only to know that it is lost I

THE PACIFIC COAST. 117

It was a few months before I left my home for the
first time that gold had been discovered in California;
but not until a year later did the news so overspread
the country as to cause any excitement in the quiet
town of Granville. Scarcely had I reached Buffalo
the second time when letters informed me that my
father was thinking of going to the new El Dorado.
The ancient leaven of industry and enterprise still
worked in him, and although far past the average age
of those who joined the pilgrimage to the golden
shrine, he could not resist the temptation. Though
but little over fifty, he was called an old man in those
days in California. By the 1st of February it was
settled that he would go, and in March, 1850, he set
sail from New York. I had a boyish desire to ac-
company him, but did not think seriously of going at
the time. I was more absorbed in flirtations, oyster
suppers, and dancing parties than fascinated by the
prospect of digging for gold.

Nevertheless the wheel of my destiny was turning.
In January, 1851, Mr Derby received a letter from
an uncle of mine, my mother's brother, then in
Oregon, ordering quite a quantity of books. This
demand, coming from a new and distant market, made
quite an impression upon the mind of the ardent
young bookseller. Visions filled his brain of mam-
moth warehouses rising in vast cities along the shores
of the Pacific, of publication offices and manufacturing
establishments, having hundreds of busy clerks and arti-
sans, buying, making, and selling books, and he would
walk the floor excitedly and talk of these things by the
hour, until he was wellnigh ready to sell out a safe
and profitable business, pack up, and go to California
himself These visions were prophetic; and through
his instrumentality one such establishment as he had
dreamed of was planted in the metropolis of this west-
ern seaboard, although he did not live to know of it.

My nearest companion at this time was a fellow-
clerk, George L. Kenny, the son of an Irish gentleman.

118 THE COUNTRY BOY BECOMES A BOOKSELLER.

He had come to seek his fortune in America, and found
his way ahiiost direct from the mother country to the
Buffalo bookstore, where he had been engaged but a
few months when I first arrived there. From that
day for over a third of a century his hfe and mine have
been closely linked. In physique he was tall, thin,
and muscular, somewhat awkward in his movements,
with an open countenance, as we used to call his
large mouth, which in laughing he displayed to its
widest extent. I have occasion to remember both
the awkwardness and the strength of my ancient
comrade; for one day in Buffalo, 'skylarking,' as we
termed it, with his huge fist he placed my nasal organ
out of line, where it ever after remained. In disposi-
tion and character he was generous almost to a fault ;
affectionate, warm-hearted, and mild, though passion-
ate and stubborn when roused; jovial and inspiriting
as a companion, stanch and reliable as a friend, and
honest as a man. He it was who introduced me into
the mysteries of bookselling, and other and more
questionable mysteries, when first I went to Buffalo.

Mr Derby was a man of many ideas. Though
practical and conservative in the main, the fertility
of his brain and his enthusiasm often gave him
little rest. Once seized with the thought of Cali-
fornia in connection with his business, he could not
dispossess his mind of it. There it fastened, causing
him many a restless day and sleepless night. He talked
of sending out one, then another, then he thought he
would go himself; but much of what was said he knew
to be impracticable, and all the while his ideas were
dim and shadowy. Finally he talked more directly
of me as the one to go — why I do not know, unless
it was that I could best be spared, and also that I
had friends there, who, if they succeeded, might sup-
ply me with money. Oregon was the point at this
time talked of I was ready to go, but had as yet no
special enthusiasm for the adventure.

THE WAY OPENED. 119

Meanwhile Mr Derby had ventured three ship-
ments of goods to the Pacific; one small lot sold at
seventy-five per cent above the invoice, and although
the other two were lost, one by fire and the other by
failure of the consignee, the one success was suffi-
cient to excite great hopes. This, together with a
letter from my father received toward the latter part
of December, 1851, determined me to go to Cali-
fornia. I was anxious to have Mr Kenny accompany
me. He would like much to go, he said, but had not
the money. I urged him to speak to Mr Derby about
it. He did so, when our now most gracious employer
replied : " For a long time I have been desirous of your
going to California; only I would not propose it."
He then entered heartily into our plans and opened
the way for both of us.

I felt by no means eager for gold; it was rather
boyish adventure that prompted me. California was
pictured in my mind as a nondescript country on the
other side of huge mountains, which once overstepped,
with most that I cared for left behind, there was little
hope of return. I was not so weaned but that I must
see my mother before I departed, perhaps never to
return; and although it involved an unpleasant and
expensive journey over the snow in the dead of winter,
I immediately performed it. Then bidding all a long
farewell, and calling on the way upon Mr James C.
Derby of Auburn, my comrade Kenny and I went
down to New York, entered our names at the Irving
house, and were ready to embark by the next steamer.

CHAPTER V.

HAIL CALIFOENIA! ESTO PERPETUAl

Never despair; but if you do, work in despair.

Burhe.

A DETAILED description of an early voyage from
New York to Chagres, across the Isthmus to Pan-
amd, and thence to San Francisco, belongs rather to
the time than to the individual. So large a por-
tion of the Californian's life, during the first twenty
years following the discovery of gold, was occupied
in the passage by the various routes from one side of
the continent to the other, that a picture of that
epoch, with this prominent and characteristic scene
left out, would be unfinished. During the first fifteen
years of my residence on the western coast I made
the passage between New York and San Francisco
by way of Panamd no less than eleven times, thus
spending on the water nearly one year, or what would
be almost equivalent to every other Sunday during
that time. Many made the voyage twice or thrice
as often, and life on the steamer was but a part of
California life. It was there the beginning was made ;
it was sometimes the ending. It was there the an-
gular eccentricities were first filed off, and roughly
filed, as many a soft-bearded fledgling thought. It
was there the excrescences of egotism and the morbid
superfluities fastened on the character by local train-
ing, or lack of training, first began the rub against the
excrescences and superfluities of others, all of which
tended to the ultimate polish and perfection of the
mass.

, 1120]

THE VOYAGE AND ARRIVAL. 121

In my California Inter Pocula I have given a full
account of the voyage out. I have there given it in
detail, not because of anything particularly striking,
but to show what the voyage in those days was ; for,
excepting shipwrecks, epidemics, or other special hard-
ships, they were all very like. I shall not therefore
repeat the description here, but merely say that on
the 24th of February, 1852, in company with Mr
Kenny, I embarked at New York on the steamer
George Law, bound for Habana. On reaching this
port the sixth day, passengers, mails, and freight were
transferred, with those of the steamer from New Or-
leans, to the Georgia, which that night sailed for
Chaofres, touchinsr at Jamaica. Arrived at Chag^res
we were sent to Aspinwall to disembark, so as to ride
over some six or eight miles of the Panamd railway
just then opened for that distance — that we might
ride over the road and pay the faro. After the usual
delay on the Isthmus we embarked on the steamer
Panama the 12th of March, touched at several ports
on the Pacific, and reached San Francisco at twelve
o'clock the first day of April.

When I arrived in California John Bigler was gov-
ernor. The capital had just been removed from Val-
lejo to Sacramento. In San Francisco the wars with
squatters, Peter Smith titles, and water -lot frauds
were attracting the chief attention. Portions of the
streets were brilliantly lighted from the glare of gam-
bling-saloons; elsewhere all was thick darkness. On
Montgomery street, indeed, lamps were posted by the
occupants, but there was no system of street lights,
and in the dark places about the docks, in the back
streets, and round the suburbs, many dark deeds were
committed. Crime, driven into holes and hiding-places
by the Vigilance Committee of 1851, was beginning
to show its face again, but the authorities, wakened to
a livelier sense of duty by the late arbitrary action of
the citizens, were more on the alert than formerly, and
criminals were caught and punished with some degree

122 HAIL CALIFORNIA ! ESTO PERPETUA!

of thoroughness. Agriculture was attracting more
attention than at any time previous. Bull and bear
fights at the Mission, and the childlike game of A B
C on Long wharf, were in vogue. Gambling was
somewhat on the decline — times were becoming too
hard to risk a hundred dollars for an evening's amuse-
ment— but it was the day of grand raffles, grand auction
sales, grand quartz-mining schemes, and Biscaccianti
concerts. Fire and flood held their alternate sway over
the destinies of town and country, aiding other causes
to accomplish business disruptions and failures.

It was the day of complimenting sea-captains who
approximated to their duty; of long annual sessions
of the legislature, of fighting officials, and anti-Chi-
nese meetings — though concerning this last named
fermentation the question arises. When in California
was it not? The most striking feature of the town at
night to a stranger was the gambling-houses, the more
aristocratic establishments being then situated on the
plaza and Commercial street, and the lower dens prin-
cipally on Long wharf. The better class supported
a fine orchestra of five or six wind instruments, while
in others a solitary cracked piano or violin squeaked
the invitation to enter. The building was usually a
mere shell, while the interior was gorgeously deco-
rated and illumined with chandeliers presenting a
mass of glittering glass pendants. Monte, faro, rou-
lette, lansquenet, vingt-et-un, and rouge-et-noir, were
the favorite games, though many others were played.
During week-days these places were usually quiet, but
at night and on Sundays the jingling of coin and the
clinking of glasses were mingled with the music of
the orchestra in hellish harmony. Above all voices
was heard that of the dealer: ^'Make your game,
gentlemen, make your game! All down? Make your
game ! All down? The game is made ! no more ; deuce,
black wins."

Then followed the raking-in process, and the paying-
out, after which came a new shuffle and a new deal;

BEDIZENED SAN FRANCISCO. 123

and thus the performance was repeated and the ex-
citement kept up throughout the quickly flying hours
of the night. Round the tables sat beautiful females
in rustling silks and flaming diamonds, their beauty
and magnificent attire contrasting strangely with the
grizzly features, slouched hats, and woollen shirts of
their victims. The license for a single table was fifty
dollars per quarter. In some saloons were eight or
ten of these tables, in others but one ; and there were
hundreds of saloons, so that the revenue to the city
was large. A bill prohibiting gambling was intro-
duced in the legislature just before I arrived, but it
was lost in the senate.

Two days and nights amid scenes like these in San
Francisco were sufficient to drive away the little wit left
by the strange experiences at Habana, on the Isthmus,
and on board the steamers, and to properly prepare
the boyish mind for the pandemonium of the miners.
The two days were spent by me in wandering about
the business parts of the town, wading muddy streets,
and climbing sand-hills ; the nights in' going from one
gaming-house to another, observing the crowds of
people come and go, watching the artistic barkeepers
in their white coats mixing fancy drinks and serving
from gorgeously decorated and mirrored bars fiery
potations of every kind, gazing in rapt bewilder-
ment upon the fortune -turning table with its fatal
fascinations, marking the piles of money increase and
lessen, and the faces behind them broaden and lengthen,
and listening to the music that mingled with the
chinking of gold, the rattling of glasses, and the
voices of rough, loud-laughing men. ''There are in-
deed but very few/' says Addison, "who know how
to be idle and innocent." Two days and nights of
this ; then from Long wharf we boarded a steam-boat
and went to Sacramento.

Having letters to Barton Reed and Grimm,
commission merchants of Sacramento, to whom Mr

124 HAIL CALIFORNIA! ESTO PERPETUA!

Derby had made one or two consign in ents of books on
a venture, we immediately called on them and talked
over the relative business chances in San Francisco
and Sacramento. The plan of going to Oregon had
been long since abandoned, and now Sacramento seemed
to offer more attractions for the opening of a small
shop than any other place. San Francisco was the
larger field, but it seemed more than fully occupied,
as has been the case in every city and town on the
coast from the beginning. As a rule, one half the
merchants with one half the stocks would have sup-
plied all the requirements of trade. Overtrading has
always been a source of loss or ruin to those engaged
in mercantile pursuits. True, this has been and is
more or less the case elsewhere. There are too many
men anxious for gain without the labor of producing.
All branches of business are overdone ; the professions
are crowded to overflowing, and for every vacant clerk-
ship there are a hundred applicants. In new countries
this is almost always the way; particularly has it
been so in California, where gold mining was added to
the usual allurements of speculative traffic. Here,
•where all started equal in the race for w^ealth, and
all were eager to secure a permanent foothold, where
many opened at once on a large scale, and competition
ran high, and almost every one traded beyond his capi-
tal, the inducements to enter the whirlpool in any
locality were tame enough. But in the breasts of the
young and adventurous hope is strong.

Sacramento having been decided on as the more
fitting field, the next thing was to write Mr Derby and
inform him of our decision. This done we took the
boat for Marysville, en route for Long bar, in search
of my father. There I was initiated into the mys-
teries of mining and mining life. The placer diggings
of this locality were then good, and so remained for
several years, but the population changed every few
months, the dissatisfied leaving and new adventurers
coming in. Ten dollars a day was too little in the

PLACER AND QUARTZ. 125

eyes of those accustomed to make twenty, and so they
sold or abandoned their claims and prospected for
richer diggings. Wandering thus from placer to placer
for years, they lost their opportunity, if not their lives,
and usually ended their mining career where they
began, without a dollar.

When my father came to the country, my eldest
brother, Curtis, who had preceded him, was keeping
a store and hotel at Long bar. He was doing well,
was making money steadily and safely. At one time
he had five thousand dollars surplus capital, with
which he started for San Francisco, there to invest it
in city lots. Had he done so, buying judiciously and
holding, he might now be worth millions instead of
nothing. Unfortunately, on his way he communicated
the plan to John C. Fall, then one of the leading mer-
chants of Marysville, and high in the esteem of my
brother. By him he was induced to make a venture
which involved his leaving Long bar, and ultimately
ended in financial ruin. Kich bar, on Feather river,
had lately been discovered, and was drawing multi-
tudes of fortune-seekers from every quarter. It was
not difficult for Mr Fall to persuade my brother with
an abundance of means and an unlimited credit to
buy a band of mules and freight them for that place.
Once there he erected a building, and opened a hotel
and store. For a time all went well. Up and down
the river the diggings were rich, and gold dust was
poured into his coffers by the quart. The establish-
ment at Long bar seemed insignificant in comparison,
and being attended with some care, he sold it and
moved his family to Rich bar. My father remained at
Long bar. He had been in the country now about
two years, had accumulated quite a little sum, and
contemplated soon returning home. But shortly
before setting out an opportunity offered whereby
he might increase his little fortune tenfold, and with-
out a risk of failure — so it seemed to him and to
others.

)26 HAIL CALIFORNIA! ESTO PERPETUAl

Quartz mining was about this time attracting at-
tention, and the prospect was very flattering. The
ledofe was discovered and staked off, its dimensions
told, its rock assayed, the cost of crushing reckoned,
and the number of years calculated before the mine
would be exhausted. Surely this was no vain specu-
lation, it was a simple arithmetical sum, the quantity,
the quality, the cost of separation, and the net profits.
Yet it was a sum which wrecked thousands. The
gold was in the mine, and rock enough of an ascer-
tained grade to last for years, but the cost of extract-
ing was more than had been anticipated, and, what
was worst of all, and almost always overlooked in
these calculations, the methods of saving the gold after
the rock was crushed were imperfect, so that even
good rock failed to pay expenses.

Two miles from Long bar, near the Marysville
road, was a place called Brown valley, and through
this ran a quartz ledge, long known but regarded as
valueless, because no one could extract the gold from
the hard white rock which held it. When, however,
quartz mining became the fashion, and every one who
owned a share was sure of a fortune, this ledge was
taken up and staked off into claims under the names
of different companies. One of these companies was
called the Plymouth, always a pleasing name to the
ear of my father, and as it embosomed an abundance
of gold, he was induced to invest — not venture — the
greater part of the mone}^ he had made, before re-
turning home.

Midway between Long bar and the mine ran a little
stream, whose name. Dry creek, was significant of its
character, it being, like many other streams in Cali-
fornia, flush with water in the winter and dry as a parlor
floor in the summer. This stream had been dammed,
a race dug, and a quartz mill with eight or ten stamps
constructed, all in working order; and at the time of
my arrival it was just ready, as it had been at any
time since its erection, to make every shareholder rich.

MmiNG INFELICITIES. 127

It was merely necessary to effect some little change
in the method of extracting and saving the gold, and
this was receiving attention.

I found my father, in connection with other mem-
bers of the Plymouth association, busily engaged in
working this mine. He occupied a little cloth house
in the vicinity of the ledge, and being the owner of a
good mule team, he employed himself in hauling rock
from the mine to the mill, about one mile apart, and
in gathering wood with which to burn the rock, so
that it could be the more easily crushed. The first
night I spent with him in the hotel at Long bar.
Foremost among my recollections of the place are
the fleas, which, together with the loud snorings and
abominable smells proceeding from the great hairy
unwashed strewed about on bunks, benches, tables,
and floor, so disturbed my sleep that I arose and
went out to select a soft place on the hill-side above
the camp, where I rolled myself in a blanket and
passed the night, my first in the open air of Cali-
fornia.

The next day found me settled down to business.
As eight or nine months must elapse before my letter
from Sacramento could be received by Mr Derby,
and goods reach me by way of Cape Horn, it was
arranged that I should work with my father for the
Plymouth company. In the morning we climbed the
oak trees scattered about the valley, and with an axe
lopped off the large brittle branches, adding them to
the already huge pile of wood beside the mill. At
noon we proceeded to the little cloth house, unhar-
nessed and fed the animals, and then cooked and
ate our dinner. Beefsteak, beans, bread, and pota-
toes, with coffee, canned fruits, pancakes, or anything
of the kind we chose to add, constituted the fare
of self-boarding miners in those days; but with all
our culinary talents we could not offer Mr Kenny
a meal sufficiently tempting to induce him to par-
take of it, and so he obtained his dinner from a

128 HAIL CALIFORNIA! ESTO PERPETUA!

boarding-house near by, and left shortly afterward for
Rich bar.

I cannot say that I enjoyed this kind of life, and
could scarcely have endured it but for the thought
that it was only temporary. At night the animals
were turned loose to graze. Early in the morning,
long before the sun had risen, I was up and over the
hills after them. Stiff and sore from the previous
day's work, wet with wading through the long damp
grass, I was in no humor to enjoy those glorious
mornings, ushered in by myriads of sweet songsters
w^elcoming the warm sunlight which came tremblingly
through the soft misty air. To the clouds of top-
knotted quails which rose at my approach, the leaping
hare, the startled deer, and the thick beds of fresh
fi'agrant flowers which I trampled under my feet, I
was alike indifferent. The music of the mules alone
allured me, though the clapper of the bell which told
me wdiere they w^ere beat discordantly on my strained
ear. Back to my breakfast and then to work. How
I loaded and lashed the poor dumb beasts in my dis-
temper, and gritted my teeth with vexation over the
unwelcome task ! The sharp rock cut my hands, the
heavy logs of wood strained my muscles; and my
temper, never one of the sweetest, fumed and fretted
like that of a newly chained cub. Were it in my
power I would have pluralized those mules so as to
smite the more. Some woods send forth fragrance
under the tool of the carver. Such was not my na-
ture. I never took kindly to misfortune; prosperity
fits me like a glove. It is good to be afflicted; but
I do not like to receive the good in that way. "Bo-
narum rerum consuetudo est pessima," says Publius
Syrus; but such has not been my experience. I wdll
admit that adversity may be good for other people,
but the continuance of prosperity, I verily believe,
has never by any means been prejudicial to me, either
in mind or morality. Byron thought Shelley, who

FAILURE AND ABANDONMENT. 129

had borne up manfully under adversity, the most
amiable of men, until he saw Lord Blessington, who
had retained his gentle good nature through a long
series of unvarying prosperity.

The night before leaving Buffalo I had danced
until morning. It happened that about the only
clothes saved from the thieves of the Isthmus were
the ones used on that occasion. These I wore until
work turned them into rags. In the pocket I one
day found a pair of white kid gloves, relic of past
revelries, and putting them on I gathered up the
reins, mounted the load, and beating my mules into
a round trot, rode up to the mill laughing bitterly
at the absurdity of the thing. It was the irony of
gentlemanly digging. Ten or twelve loads was a fair
day's work; I hauled twenty or twenty -five. A dollar
a load was the price allowed — but it was not money,
it was wrath, that made me do it. My father, though
mild in his treatment of me, expostulated. He feared
I would kill the animals. I said nothing, but when
out of his sight I only drove them the harder. Little
cared I whether the mules or myself were killed.
Sunday was a day of rest, but on Monday I felt sorer
in body and mind than on any other day. I had
brought plenty of books with me, but could not read,
or if I did it was only to raise a flood of longings
which seemed sometimes to overwhelm me. My soul
was in harmony with nothing except the coyotes which
all night howled discordantly behind the hills.

After two months of this kind of life the hot
weather was upon us. The streams began to dry
up; water was becoming scarce. We had heaped up
the wood and the rock about the mill, and my tally
showed a long score against the company for work.
But the mill did not pay. There was always some-
thing wrong about it, some little obstacle that stood
in the way of immediate brilliant success: the stamps
were not heavy enough, or the metal was too soft,
or they did not work smoothly; the rest of the ma-

" Lit. Ind. 9

130 HAIL CALIFORNIA! ESTO PERPETUA!

chinery was inadequate, and the rock was harder than
had been anticipated. That it was hard enough, I
who had handled it well knew. There was no money,
but there were plenty of shares.

It is very difficult when once faith, even in a
falsity, has taken possession of the mind, to eradicate
it. Especially difficult is it w^hen self-interest stands
in the way and blinds the understanding. Skepticism
is a plant of slow growth. The seeds are sown by
inexorable fact, in an unwelcome soil, and the germ is
smothered by ignorance and prejudice until time and
experience force it to the light. I had not then
reached the point later attained, when I could say
with Dante, "" Non men che saver, dubbiar m'aggrata;"
though doubt seldom chains a gold-digger so much as
knowledge of facts. I cannot tell why neither my
father nor I should have seen by this time that the
enterprise was a failure. But we did not see it. We
had schooled ourselves in the belief that the rocky
bank contained a mint of money which must some
day enrich the possessor. But there was then nothing
more to be done, and my father concluded to pay a
parting visit to my brother at Bich bar and set out
for home. For our work we took more shares, and
still more in exchange for the team and the scattering
effects, and abandoned it all forever. Several years
afterward I learned that a new company had taken
possession of the claim and was doing well. Not long
after leaving the place I became convinced that the
enterprise was a failure, and firmly resolved that
thenceforth, whatever speculation I might at any time
engage in, it should be not with my own labor. I
might stake money, but if I worked with my hands I
would have pay for such labor.

Behold us now! my old father and me, tramping
over the plains beneath a broiling sun about the
middle of June, each with a bundle and stick, mine
containing my sole possessions. In the early morning,
fresh from sleep, with gladness of heart at leaving

IN THE MOUNTAINS. 131

the beautiful valley of hateful occupation behind, we
marched away over the hills at a round pace. But
as the sun above our heads neared the point from
which it poured its perpendicular and most effect-
ual wrath, I became excessively fatigued. My feet
blistered; my limbs ached; water was to be had only
at intervals; the prayed-for breath of air came hot
and suffocating, like a sirocco, mingled with incan-
descent dust beaten from the parched plain. Thinking
over my short experience in the country and my
present position, I exclaimed, ''If tliis be California,
I hope God will give me little of it." As we trod
slowly along, stepping lightly on the burning ground,
I began to think the mules would have been better
for our purpose than the shares, but I said nothing.

That day we walked thirty miles, crossed the river
at Bidwell bar, intending to stop over night at a
rancho some distance on in the mountains; but we
had not ascended far before I persuaded my father
to camp, for rest I must. He willingly complied,
and selecting a sheltered place well covered with dry
leaves we spread our blankets. In a moment I was
asleep, and knew nothing further till morning, when
I awoke almost as fresh as ever. We had food with
us, but the night before I was too tired to eat. The
first clay was the worst. We were now in the cool
fragrant air of the Sierra, travelling a well-beaten path
intersected by numerous rivulets of melted snow.
The third day we reached Rich bar in good con-
dition. My father, after a visit of about a week,
returned with the express train — of mules, not steam-
cars — to Marysville, where he took the boat for San
Francisco, and tlience the steamer homeward.

As I had still six months or thereabout to wait for
my goods, I agreed to remain with my brother Curtis
for such compensation as he should choose to give.
My duties were to carry on the store and look after
the business generally in his absence. Mr Kenny
was likewise engaged by my brother in an establish-

132 HAIL CALIFORNIA! ESTO PERPETUA!

ment carried on by him at Indian bar, a few miles
down the river. There we remained until November,
when we went to San Francisco.

Shortly before leaving Rich bar I had received
intelliofence of the death of Harlow Palmer, eldest
son of George Palmer, a wealthy and highly respected
citizen of Buffalo. Harlow Palmer had married my
sister Emil}". For fine womanly instincts and self-
sacrificing devotion to duty and friendship she had no
superior; and her husband was among the noblest of
men. Away in the heart of the Sierra I received
the heart-rending tidings as a message from another
world. I said nothing to any one; but when the sun
had buried itself in the granite waves beyond, and
had left the sky and earth alone together, alone to
whisper each other their old-time secrets, with my
sad secret I wandered forth beside the transparent
river, where the lusty diggers had honey-combed the
pebbly bottom and opened graves for myriads of hopes,
and there, down in the deep canon, walled in by sky-
propping mountains, I sped my longings upward, the
only window of escape for my pent up sorrow. O earth !
how dark and desolate thou art, with thy boisterous
streams singing requiems for the dead. O starlit sky !
dim not my vision that would pierce thy milky veil,
nor speed back my blind intelligence from its unap-
proachable source. Behold the immobile sepulchral
moon ! Ghastly the sun's reflected light thrown from
fantastic rocks which cast their phantom shadows
round yawning craters reveals the hideousness of the
gentle orb, gentle because dead, tenantless as a ceme-
tery. Bats we are, all of us, teachers and pupils alike,
beating our senseless brains against the murky cavern-
walls that hem us in, screeching about that illimitable
brightness beyond, of which we have been told so
much and know so little, only to drop at length upon
the damp floor, despairing.

But this was only the beginning of sorrow. Scarcely
had I reached Sacramento when the death of George

DEATH AND DISCOMFITURE. 133

H. Derby was announced. Surely, said I, there
must be a mistake. It is Mr Palmer they mean;
they have confused the husbands of the two sisters.
I would not believe it; it could not be. Letters,
however, soon confirmed the report. The two brothers-
in-law, young, high-spirited, active, intelligent, prom-
ising men, the warmest of friends, living on the same
side of the same street, not more than a mile apart,
had both been swept away by the cholera the same
month. I was stricken dumb, stupefied, and for a time,
listless and purposeless, I wandered about the quag-
mires and charred remains of the city — for Sacra-
mento had about that time been visited by both flood
and fire — the miry and sombre surroundings accord-
ing well with the despond-sloughs and ashen contem-
plations within. To the pure fanatic and the pure
philosopher alike death has no sting. Deep medita-
tions on man's destiny only show the folly of harassing
concern about what is hidden from human ken or of
loudly bewailing what is inevitable to all. But where
neither fanaticism nor philosophy exists one suffers
when friends die.

All my plans and purposes I saw at once were at an
end. I knew very well that no one else, now that
Mr Derby was dead, would do so foolish a thing as to
continue shipments of goods to an inexperienced
moneyless boy in California. Indeed, directly after
receiving the first sad intelligence came a letter from
the executor, requesting the speedy sale of the consign-
ment about to arrive and the remittance of the money.
Accompanying this order was an urgent but most
unnecessary appeal to my sympathies in behalf of
my sister, Mrs Derby. The estate, it affirmed, would
net little else than the property in my hands, without
which the widow and children must suffer.

Having no further business in the burned-out mud-
hole of Sacramento, I went down to the bay and
put up at the Rassette house. Kenny was with me.
I was determined, whatever the cost, that Mrs Derby

134 HAIL CALIFORNIA ! ESTO PEEPETUA!

should have the full amount of the invoice, with com-
missions added, as soon as the goods could be con-
verted into money and the proceeds remitted to her.
To sell in that market, at that time, a miscellaneous
assortment of books and stationery in one lot, without
a sacrifice, was impossible. I determined there should
be no sacrifice, even if I had to peddle the stuff from
door to door. I possessed only one hundred and fifty
dollars, the result of my services at Kich bar, and
began to look about for employment till the goods
should arrive. At none of the several book and
stationery shops in town was there any prospect. I
was thin, young, awkward, bashful, had no address,
and was slow of wit. Besides, merchants were shy of
a clerk with shipments of goods behind him ; for why
should he desire a situation except to learn the secrets
of his employer and then use them to his own ad-
vantage? I explained the poverty of my prospects
and declared the purity of my intentions. All was in
vain; nobody would have my services, even as a gift.
Mr Kenny was more fortunate. In his nature were
blended the suaviter in modo and the fort iter in re.
He was older than I, and possessed of an Irish tongue
withal ; he made friends wherever he went. An equal
partnership was offered him by William B. Cooke,
who had lately dissolved with Josiah J. Le Count,
and was then establishing himself anew at the corner
of Merchant and Montgomery streets. The terms
were that Kenny should place upon Cooke's shelves
the stock sent me; that the proceeds should be re-
mitted east as fast as sales were made, or, if possible,
payments should be even faster than this ; in any event
not less than five hundred dollars was to be paid on
each steamer day. I must shift for myself; but this
did not trouble me. I readily consented, stipulating
only for immediate control of the stock if the firm
did not remit as fast as promised. In no surer or
quicker way could I realize the invoice price for the
whole shipment, and this was now my chief ambition.

DARK DAYS. 135

Well, the goods arrived, and the firra of Cooke,
Kenny, and Company was organized, the company
being a young friend of Mr Cooke. I had free ac-
cess to the premises, and watched matters closely for
a while. Everything went on satisfactorily, and the
whole amount was remitted to the executors of Mr
Derby's estate according to agreement. Meanwhile I
had applied myself more earnestly than ever to obtain
work of some kind. I felt obliged to stay in San
Francisco until my account with the estate was settled,
unv/illing to trust any one for that, and I greatly pre-
ferred remaining in the city altogether. Mines and
the miners, and country trading of any kind, had be-
come exceedingly distasteful to me. I felt, if an op-
portunity were offered, that I would prove competent
and faithful in almost any capacity ; for though diffident
I had an abundance of self-conceit, or at least of self-
reliance, and would do anything. Accustomed to work
all my life, idleness was to me the greatest of afflic-
tions. My bones ached for occupation and I envied
the very hod-carriers.

Thus for six months, day after day, I tramped the
streets of San Francisco seeking work, and failed to
lind it. Thousands have since in like manner applied
to me, and remembering^ how the harsh refusals once
cut my sensitive nature, I try to be kind to applicants
of whatsoever degree, and if not always able to give
work I can at least offer sympathy and advice. Finally,
sick with disappointment, I determined to leave the
city: not for the Sierra foothills; rather China, or
Australia. The choice must be made quickly, for
the last dollar from Rich bar was gone, and I would
not live on others, or run in debt with nothing where-
with to pay. Often I wandered down about the
shipping and scanned the vessels for different ports.
I knew little of the various parts of the world, and
had little choice wdiere to go. My future turned upon
a hair.

In the spring of 1853 the San Francisco papers

136 HAIL CALIFORNIA! ESTO PERPETUA!

began to notice a new town on the California shore
of the Pacific, some fifteen or twenty miles fi'om the
Oregon boundary line. Crescent City the place was
called, from a long sweep taken by the shore inward
between Trinidad bay and Point St George; indeed,
there was then much more crescent than city, only
a few tents and split-board houses stood trembling
between the sullen roar of the ocean at the front
door and the ofttimes whistling wind in the dense
pine forest at the back door to mark the site of the
prospective commercial metropolis of northern Cali-
fornia. On both sides of the boundary line between
Oregon and California were extensive mining districts,
at various distances from the coast, access to which
had hitherto been from Oregon only by way of Port-
land and Scottsburg, and from the Sacramento valley
through Shasta. Most of the country hereabout
miofht have been traversed in wasfons but for one
difficulty — there w^ere no wagon roads; consequently
most of the merchandise carried to this port by
steamers and sailing vessels was conveyed into the
interior on the backs of mules. There was plenty of
good agricultural land round Crescent City, and forests
of magnificent timber, but few thought of farming in
those days, and lumber could be more easily obtained
at other points along the coast. The mines and the
trade with them offered the chief attractions for es-
tablishing a city. Nor was it to depend so much on
the mines already discovered as on those which were
sure to be found as soon as the country was fairly
prospected. The color of gold, they said, had been
seen on Smith river, only twelve miles distant; and
farther up, at Althouse and Jacksonville, was gold
itself, and men at work digging for it. As other parts
boasted their Gold lakes and Gold bluffs, so here
was an unsolved mystery wherein gold was the fitful
goddess — a lone cabin that men talked of in whispers,
where treasure-diggers long since departed had filled
bags, and bottles, and tin cans with the glittering

CRESCENT CITY. 137

dirt that made glad the hearts of those awaiting
them in their eastern homes. Several parties went
in search of this lone cabin at various times. It was
confidently believed that some day it would be found,
and when that day should come, a seaport town, Ayith
railways, wharves, and shipping, would be absolutely
necessary to furnish the diggers in that vicinity with
food and clothing, tents, strychnine whiskey, and
playing-cards, and receive and export for the honest
magnates the tons of heavy yellow stuff which they
would shovel up.

Knowing of no better place, I determined to try
my fortune at Crescent City; so, with fifty dollars
borrowed, and a case of books and stationery bought
on credit, I embarked on board the steamer Columbia
about the middle of May. Two days and one night
the voyage lasted — long enough, with the crowded
state of the vessel and the poor comforts at my com-
mand, to leave me on landing completely prostrated
with sea-sickness and fatiirue. Taken ashore in a
whale-boat, I crawled to a hotel and went to bed. My
box was landed in a lighter, but for a day or two I
made no attempt at business. Adjoining the hotel
was the general merchandise store of Crowell and
Fairfield, and there I made the acquaintance of Mr
Crowell, which resulted in mutual confidence and es-
teem. Mr Fairfield was then absent at the bay. As
our friendship increased, Mr Crowell occasionally re-
quested me to attend the store during his absence, and
also to enter in the day-book sales which he had made.
At length, on learning my purpose, he made me an
offer of fifty dollars a month to keep his books, with
the privilege of placing my stock on his shelves and
selling from it for my own account free of charge.
I gladly accepted, and was soon enrolled as book-
keeper and book-seller. On his return Mr Fairfield
ratified the arrangfement, and we were ever after the
best of friends. As I slept in the store, indulged in
little dissipation, and was not extravagant in dress, my

138 HAIL CALIFORNIA! ESTO PERPETUA!

(Expenses were very light, while the profits on my
goods, which I sold only for cash, were large. Mean-
while, as the business of the firm augmented and the
duties became more responsible, my salary was from
time to time increased, until at the expiration of
eighteen months, with the use of a few thousand
dollars which I had accumulated and allowed to re-
main at the disposal of the firm, I found myself the
recipient of two hundred and fifty dollars monthly.
Some six months later the firm failed. I bought a
portion of the stock and tried merchandising on my
own account for a short time, but being dissatisfied
with my life there, I disposed of the business, built a
one-story brick store, which I leased to some hardware
merchants, and leaving my affairs in the hands of an
agent I went down to San Francisco.

Though it was a trading rather than a mining town,
life at Crescent City w^as in most respects similar to
life in the mines. There was the same element in the
community, the same lack of virtuous women, the
same species of gaming-houses, drinking-saloons, and
dens of prostitution. Florimel's girdle was worn by
never a woman there. The Reverend Mr Lacy, after-
ward pastor of the first cono-regational society in
San Francisco, essayed to build a church and reform
the people, but his efforts were attended with poor
success.

A rancheria of natives occupied the point that
formed the northern horn of the Crescent, and with
them the mild-mannered citizens of the town endeav-
ored to live in peace. One night the rancheria took
fire, an unusual thing which excited some commotion.
The natives thought the white men wished to burn
them out, and the white men began to fear the red
men intended to overturn everything and massacre
everybody, beginning with the destruction of their
own houses. Morning, how^ever, threw light upon
the matter. It appears a drunken white man, the
night before, had taken lodgings in a native hut, and

THE NOBLE TOPERS OF THE CRESCENT. 139

feeling cold, in the absence of the accustomed alcoholic
fires he built a fire of wood to warm himself withal ;
but being drunk, he built it after the white man's
fashion, at one end of the room against the bark
boards of the house, and not where the sober savaofe
would have placed it, in the centre of the room. The
pioneer citizens of the Crescent were orderly, well
meaning men, who prided themselves on emptying a
five-gallon keg of the most fiery spirits San Francisco
could send them, and on carrying it respectably, with
eyes open, head up, and tongue capable of articu-
lating, even though it did thicken and crisp a little
sometimes toward morning after a night at poker.
They could not therefore silently pass by the affront
cast on their dusky neighbors by an unworthy mem-
ber of their own color; and in the absence of a court
of law they held a court of inquiry, followed by a
court of retort, requiring the vile white man who
could not drink without making himself drunk, first
to pay the natives blankets, beads, and knives enough
to fully satisfy them for loss and damage to their
property, and then to leave the place. Well begun,
noble topers of the Crescent, who would not see even
the poor savages at their door wronged by one of
their number!

The two and a half years I spent at Crescent City
were worse than thrown away, although I did accu-
mulate some six or eight thousand dollars. With
an abundance of time on my hands, I read little but
trashy novels, and though from my diffidence I did not
mingle greatly with the people, I improved my mind
no better than they. One bosom friend I had, Theo-
dore S. Pomeroy, county clerk and editor of the Herald,
probably the most intelligent man in the place, and
much of my time outside of business I spent with him
at cards or billiards. On Sundays there was horse-
racing, or foot-racing, or cock-fighting on the beach;
and often a band of rowdies, composed of the most
respectable citizens, would start out at anytime between

140 HAIL CALIFORNIA! ESTO PERPETUA!

midnight and daybreak, and with horns, tin pans, and
gongs, make the round of the place, pounding at every
door, and compelling the occupant to arise, administer
drink to all, and join the jovial company. Knives and
pistols were almost universally carried and recklessly
used. In a drunken brawl a man w^as shot dead one
night in front of my store. I did not rush out with
others to witness the scene, and so saved myself a
month's time, and the heavy expenses of a journey
to Yreka to attend the trial of the murderer. Durino-
my residence at this place I made several trips on
business to San Francisco, and on the whole managed
my affairs with prudence and economy. I well remem-
ber the first five hundred dollars I made. The sum
was deposited with Page, Bacon, and company, so
that w^hatever befell me I might have that amount
to carry me back to my friends, for I never ceased
longing to see them. Fortunately, Crowell and Fair-
field being in need of money, I drew it out for their
use just before the bank failed. I have never felt so
rich before or since. Having great faith in the ulti-
mate growth of Crescent City, I invested my earnings
there, though after the lapse of several years I was
glad to realize at thirty cents on the dollar.

My sisters had often urged me strongly to return
to the east. Mrs Derby, particularly, was quite alone,
and she wished me to come, and if possible settle
permanently near her. I now felt quite independent,
and consequently proud and happy, for my brick store
at Crescent City, worth, as I counted it, eight thou-
sand dollars, and rented for two hundred and fifty
dollars a month, seemed at that time sufficient to
make me comfortable without work. Hence I re-
solved to go home — the eastern side was always
home then, whether one lived there or not — and
my friend Pomeroy promised to accompany me. My
object was to visit friends and make plans for the
future; his was to marry a woman of Albany, with

VISIT TO THE EAST. 141

whom he had opened correspondence and made a
matrimonial engagement through the medium of a
friend, a female friend of course, living in San Fran-
cisco. The firm of Cooke, Kenny, and company had
failed, from lack of capital, and Mr Kenny, who in
the mean time had married an estimable woman, was
doing business for another house. Often have I
thought how fortunate it was that I did not start
in business at San Francisco or Sacramento at that
time, since the inevitable result would have been
failure. As I have said, almost every firm then doing
business failed; and if men with capital and experi-
ence, with a large trade already established, could not
succeed, how could I expect to do so? In November,
1855, with Mr Pomeroy as a companion, I sailed from
San Francisco for New York, where we safely arrived,
and shortly after separated for the homes of our
respective friends.

CHAPTER VI.

THE HOUSE OF H. H. BANCROFT AND COMPANY.

Seest thou a man diligent in business, he shall stand before kings; he
shall not stand before mean men.

Proverbs.

Home again ! None but a wanderer, and a youthful
wanderer, can feel those words in their fullest import.
Back from the first three years in California. Out
of the depths and into paradise. Away from har-
assing cares, from the discordant contentions of
money-getting, from the contaminations of filthy de-
baucheries, beyond the shot of pistol or reach of
bowie-knife, safe home, there let me rest. Nor does
the prestige of success lessen the pleasure of the re-
turned Californian. Even our warmest friends are
human. Those who would nurse us most kindly in
sickness, who would spare no self-denial for our com-
fort, who, unworthy as we might be of their affection,
would die for us if necessary, the hearts of even these
in their thanksgiving are warmed with pride if to
their welcome they may add ''Well done!'

How the snappish frosty air tingles the blood, and
lightens the feet, and braces the sinews. How white
the soft snow resting silently on trees and lawn, and
how the music of the bells rings in the heart the re-
membrance of old time merrymakings ! Rosy-cheeked
girls, muffled in woollens and furs, frolic their way
to school, filling the clear cold air with their musical
laughter, and blooming young ladies grace the side-
walk in such numbers as would turn a mining camp
topsy-turvy for a month. Oysters ! How the whilom
bean -and -bacon eaters regale themselves! First a

(142)

OYSTERS AND PRETTY GIRLS. 143

raw, then a stew, then a fry, and then a raw again.
To hve in a house, eat with people, lounge in elegantly-
furnished parlors — it is very pleasant, but a little
close. The Sundays, how quiet they are; no one
abroad, no trafficking, no revelry ! And then to go to
church, and sit in the old family pew, and meet the
gaze of faces familiar from boyhood. How much
smaller things appear than of old. The ancients of
the church are plainer in their apparel and simpler in
their features than they used to be, and the minister is
a little more prosy and peculiar. But the girls, ah!
there's the rub. Immediately on my arrival I fell in
love with half a dozen, and, bashful as I was, would have
married one upon the spot, had not her father fancied
a young man whose father's property was in New York,
in preference to one who possessed something of his
own at Crescent City. And how the men, and women,
and children all eyed me; one saying, "You are not
a bear," and another, "I do not see but that you look
very like other people." The impression seemed to
prevail at the east in those days that a Californian
could not be otherwise than brown and bearded, and
rough and red-shirted. I was still a pale, thin, timid
boy, though I had passed through furnace fires enough
to deeper bronze or blacken Mephistopheles.

I found my sister Mrs Derby, with her three
daughters, cosily keeping house in Auburn, New
York. My youngest sister, Mary, was with her. Soon
Mrs Palmer, my second sister, came down from Buf-
falo to see her Californian brother. It was a happy meet-
ing, though saddened by the recollection of irreparable
disruptions. Between Auburn and Buffalo I passed
the winter delightfully, and in the spring visited my
friends in Granville. I tried my best to like it at the
east, to make up my mind to abandon California and
settle permanently in Buffalo or New York, to be a
comfort to my sisters, and a solace to my parents ; but
the western coast, with all its rough hardships and
impetuous faults so fascinating, had fastened itself

144 THE HOUSE OF H. H. BANCROFT AND COMPANY.

too strongly upon me to be shaken off. And so round
many a poor pilgrim California has thrown her witch-
eries, drawinsc him back to her briofht shores whenever
he attempted to leave them, like the magnetic moun-
tain of Arabian story, which drew the nails from any
ship that approached it. If the nails from the vessels
entering the Golden Gate were not so drawn by the
metal- veined sierra the men were, for only too often
they left the ships tenantless and unmanageable hulks.
The east, as compared with the west, was very com-
fortable, very cultivated, soothing to the senses and
refining to the intelligence; but society was so proper,
so particular, and business ways seemed stale and
flat.

Suddenly in April, 1856, I made up my mind lio
longer to remain there. I had visited enough and
wasted time enough. I was impatient to be doing.
So, without saying a word at first, I packed my trunk,
and then told my sister of the resolve. I appreci-
ated her kindness most fully. I regretted leaving
her more than w^ords could tell, but I felt that 1 must
go; there was that in California which harmonized
with my aspirations and drew forth energies which
elsewhere would remain dormant. I must be up and
doing.

On one side of the continent all was new,' all
was to be done; on the other side beginnings were
pretty well over. To the satisfied and unambitious
an eastern or European life of dolce far niente might
be delicious; to me if I had millions it would be tor-
ment. The mill must needs grind, for so the maker
ordained ; if wheat be thrown into the hopper it sends
forth fine flour, but if unfed it still grinds, until it
grinds itself away. I must be something of myself,
and do something by myself; it is the Me, and not
money, that cries for activity and development.

''One thing do for me," said my sister, "and you
may go"

•'I will; what is it?"

• THE RESOLVE OF MY SISTER. 145

" You remember the money sent from California in
return for goods shipped by Mr Derby?"

"Yes."

" The money is now so invested that I am fearful
of losing it. Help me to get it, then take it and use
it in any way you think best."

" I will help you to get it," said I, "most certainly,
but I could not sleep knowing that your comfort de-
pended on my success. I may be honest and capable,
and yet fail. I may woo fortune but I cannot com-
mand her. The risk is altogether too great for you
to take."

" Nevertheless I will take it," replied my noble
sister, and in that decision she decided my destiny.

How a seemingly small thing, as we have before
remarked, will sometimes turn the current, not only
of a man's own future life, but that of his friends, his
family, and multitudes who shall come after him. In
this womanish resolve of my sister — womanish because
prompted by the heart rather than by the head — the
destinies of many hundreds of men and women were
wrapped. By it my whole career in California was
changed, and with mine that of my father's entire
family. Herein is another cause, if we choose to call
it so, of my embarking in literature. I hesitated yet
further about taking the money, but finally concluded
that I might keep it safely for her; if not, there was
yet the Crescent City property to fall back upon.

After some little difficulty we succeeded in drawing
the money, five thousand five hundred dollars, which
sum was placed in my hands. I then asked her if she
would accept a partnership in my proposed under-
taking ; but she answered no, she would prefer my note,
made payable in five or six years, with interest at the
rate of one per cent a month.

Now it was that I determined to execute the origi-
nal plan formed by Mr Derby, in pursuance of which
I first went to California; and that with the very
money, I might say, employed by him, this being the

Lit. Ind. 10

146 THE HOUSE OF H. H. BANCROFT AND COMPANY. •

exact amount of his original shipments — only, I would
lay the foundations broader than he had done, estab-
lish at once a credit, for without that my capital would
not go far, and plant myself in San Francisco with
aspirations high and determination fixed, as became
one who would win or die in the first city of the
Pacific seaboard.

There was a man in New York, Mr John C. Barnes,
who had been a warm friend of Mr Derby. To him
my sister gave a letter of introduction, with which,
and drafts for fifty -five hundred dollars, she sent me
forth to seek my fortune. Mr Barnes was partner in
the large stationery house of Ames, Herrick, Barnes,
and Bhoads, 75 John street. I found him very
affable, stated to him my plans, deposited with him
my drafts, and received the assurance that everything
possible should be done to forward my wishes. First
of all, I wanted to establish business relations with the
leading publishers of the east. I wanted the lowest
prices and the longest time — the lowest prices so that
the advance I was necessarily obliged to add should
not place my stock beyond the reach of consumers,
and the longest time because four or six months were
occupied in transportation.

California credit in New York at that time rated
low, as elsewhere I have observed. Nearly every one
I met had lost, some of them very heavily, either by
flood, or fire, or failure. Some of their customers had
proved dishonest, others unfortunate, and a curse
seemed attached to the country from which at one
time so much had been expected. I told them I was
starting fresh, untrammelled, with everything in my
favor, and I believed I could succeed; that they had
met with dishonest men did not prove every man dis-
honest; and because they had lost it did not follow
that they were always sure to lose. I might have
added, if at that time I had known enough of the
manner of eastern merchants in dealing with the
California market, that for nine tenths of their losses

1

CALIFORNIAN CREDIT. 147

they had only themselves to blame, for after selling
to legitimate dealers all the goods necessary for the
full supply of the market, they would throw into auc-
tion on their own account in San Francisco such
quantities of merchandise as would break prices and
entail loss on themselves and ruin on their customers.
All the blame attending California credit did not be-
long to Californians, although the disgrace might be
laid only on them; but the shippers of New York and
Boston knew a trick or two as well as the merchants
of San Francisco.

At all events, before these angry croakers decided
against me, or persisted in their fixed purpose never to
sell a dollar's worth of goods to California without first
receiving the dollar, I begged them to see Mr Barnes
and ascertain what he thought of it. This they were
ready to promise, if nothing more; and the conse-
quence was that when I called the second time al-
most every one was ready to sell me all the goods
I would buy. From that day my credit was estab-
lished, becoming firmer with time, and ever afterward
it was my first and constant care to keep it good. "A
good credit, but used sparingly;" that was my motto.
At this time I did not buy largely, only about ten
thousand dollars' worth, preferring to wait till I be-
came better acquainted with the market before order-
ing heavily. This was in June. My goods shipped,
I returned to Auburn, there to spend the few months
pending the passage of the vessel round Cape Horn
rather than await its arrival in California. And very
pleasantly passed this time with the blood warm and
hope high.

October saw me again en route for San Francisco.
I found Mr Kenny occupying his old store with a
small stock of goods belonging to Mr Le Count. I
told him to settle his business and come with me,
and he did so. We engaged the room adjoining, being
in the building of Naglee, the brandymaker, near the

148 THE HOUSE OF H. H. BANCROFT AND COMPANY.

corner of Montgomery and Merchant streets, where
ten years before a yerba-buena bordered sand-bank
was washed by the tide- waters of the bay. Our stock
arriving shortly after in good order, we opened it and
began business under the firm name of H. H. Ban-
croft and Company about the first of December, 1856.
There was nothing pecuhar in the shop, its contents,
business, or proprietors, that I am aware of. During
the closing months of the year, and the opening
months of the year following, the inside was exposed
to the weather while the building was taking on a
new front; but in such a climate this was no hard-
ship. At night we closed the opening with empty
boxes, and I turned into a cot bed under the counter
to sleep; in the morning I arose, removed the boxes,
swept the premises, put the stock in order, breakfasted,
and was then ready to post books, sell goods, or carry
bundles, according to the requirements of the hour.
We let two offices, one to Mr Woods, the broker, and
one to Jonathan Hunt, insurance agent, and thus re-
duced our rent one third, the original sum being two
hundred and fifty dollars a month. With the constant
fear of failure before me, I worked and watched un-
ceasingly. Mr Kenny was salesman, for he was much
more familiar with the business than I; he possessed
many friends and had already a good trade estab-
lished. Affairs progressed smoothly ; we worked hard
and made money, first slowly, then faster. Times were
exceedingly dull. Year after year the gold crop had
diminished; or if not diminished, it required twice the
labor and capital to produce former results. Stocks
had accumulated, merchants had fallen in arrears, and
business depression was far greater than at any time
since the discovery of gold. In the vernacular of the
day, trade had touched bottom. But hard times are
the very best of times in which to plant and nourish
a permanent business. Hard times lead to careful
trading and thrift; flush times to recklessness and
overdoing. On every side of us old firms were falling

i

BUSINESS CHANGES. 149

to pieces, and old merchants were forced out of busi-
ness. The term 'old' was then applied to firms of
five or six years' standing. This made me all the
more nervous about success. But we had every ad-
vantage; our stock was good and well bought, our
credit excellent, our expenses light, and gradually the
business grew.

Toward the end of the first year the idea struck me
that I might use my credit further, without assuming
much more responsibility, by obtaining consignments
of goods in place of buying large quantities outright.
But this would involve my going east to make the
arrangements, and, as Mr Kenny would thus be left
alone, I proposed to Mr Hunt, whose acquaintance
had ripened into friendship, to join us, contribute a
certain amount of capital, and take a third interest
in the partnership. The proposition was accepted.
Mr Hunt came into the firm, the name of which re-
mained unchanged, and soon after, that is to say in
the autumn of 1857, I sailed for New York. My
plan was successful. I readily obtained goods on the
terms asked to the amount of sixty or seventy thou-
sand dollars, which added largely to our facilities.

Before returning to California, which was in the
spring of 1858, I visited my parents, then living as
happily as ever in Granville. My views of life had
changed somewhat since I had left my boyhood home,
and later they changed still more. I was well enough
satisfied then with the choice I had made in foregoing
the benefits of a college course, and my mind is much
more clear upon the subject now than then.

Were a boy of mine to ask me to-day, ''Shall I en-
ter college?" I should inquire, "For what purpose?
What do you intend to do or to be? Are you satis-
fied with your position and possessions, or shall you
desire fame or wealth? If the former, then in what
direction ? Have you a taste for languages and liter-
ature; would you be a preacher, or professor, or presi-
dent of a university; has statesmanship attractions for

150 THE HOUSE OF H. H. BANCROFT AND COMPANY.

you — the pure and unadulterated article I mean, not
demagogisnij or the ordinary path of the politician?
If so, a classical education, as a tool of the trade,
might be of use to you. But for almost anything
else it would be a downright disadvantage, the time
spent upon it being worse than thrown away. I
know you would not be a clergymen; you love the
natural and truthful too well. You would not be a
lawyer, having no mental or moral abilities to sell for
money; you could not reduce the equities wholly to
a traffic, or study law that with it you may spend
your life in defeating the ends of justice, or place
yourself in a position where you are expected to ad-
vocate either side of any proposition for pay. You
would not adopt a profession based upon butchering
principles, or spend your life wrangling for money in
the quarrels of other men. In regard to the calling
of the medical man, while it is not ignoble, I do not
imagine that you have any fancy that way." ''Well,
then, a scientific course?" I should say that might
do; but would it not be well for the young man first to
think it over a little, and determine — not irrevocably,
but as far as an intelligent youth with some degree of
an understanding of himself can reasonablj^ do — what
calling or pursuit in life he would like to follow, and
then study with that end in view ? To be a black-
smith, the wise boy will scarcely apprentice himself to
a shoemaker. If his am.bition is to be a great artist,
he will not spend the best portions of his best days
in music or oratory. If wealth is his object, a com-
mercial or industrial career is the place for him ; and
if he would do his best, he will begin upon it early,
and let colleges alone altogether. Often is the ques-
tion asked, but seldom answered, ''Where are your
college men?" Few of them, indeed, put in an ap-
pearance among those who move the world or conduct
the great affairs of life.

In all this that relates to a calling and a career, it
is well to consider our point of view, whether our

LOVE AND GODLINESS. 151

chief purpose is to be or to do, to formulate or be
formulated. It is one thing to make money, and
quite another to be made by money.

While stopping in Buffalo once more I made the
acquaintance of Miss Emily Ketchum, daughter of
a highly respected and prominent citizen of the
place, and of whom my sister Mrs Palmer was loud in
praise. Her face was not what one would call beau-
tiful, but it was very refined, very sweet. She was tall,
with light hair and eyes, exquisitely formed, and very
graceful. Her mind was far above the average female
intellect, and well cultivated; she was exceedingly
bright in conversation, and with a ready wit possessed
keen common-sense. Her well trained voice in sing-
ing was one of the sweetest I ever heard. I was
captivated and soon determined to marry her — if I
could. My time was short; I must return to my
affairs immediately. We had not met half a dozen
times before I called one afternoon to say good-by.
She was entirely unconscious of having aroused any
special interest in me, and as a matter of course I
could not then make a proposal.

What to do I did not know. I could not leave
matters as they were and go back to California to be
absent perhaps for years, and yet I could not speak
my heart. I dared not even ask if I might write, lest
I should frighten her. At last fortune came to my
relief The young woman had lately become deeply
interested in religion, was a new convert, as she said,
though her whole life had been one of the strictest
religious training. Naturally she was keen for prose-
lytes, and evidently took me for a heathen, one of
the worst sort, a California heathen. Zealously she
attacked me, therefore, her eyes sparkling, her cheeks,
glowing, her whole soul lit with inspiration in proclaim-
ing the blessedness of her faith. I listened attentively;
I could have listened had she been demonstrating a
problem in Euclid, or talking of Queen Victoria's new

152 THE HOUSE OF H. H. BANCROFT AND COMPANY.

bonnet. After a three hours' session, during which
by dropping here and there a penitent word the fire
of her enthusiasm had been kept ablaze, I rose to
take my leave.

^^ Absorbed in business as I am/' I said, '^away from
home and its hallowing influences, worship is neglected
and piety grows cold. Had I you to remind me of
my duty now and then I might do better."

^^ Would that I could be of such assistance to you/'
she replied.

'' You can."

'^ How?" she asked.

'^ Write me occasionally."

'^ I will," was the prompt response.

It was enough, more than I had expected, better
than I could have hoped for: I had her promise to
write — little cared I what she wrote about — and then,
of course, I could write to her. My heart was light,
the barrier of conventionalism was broken.

Nor did I forget her sermon. I remembered it on
the railway journey to New York; I remembered it
on the steamer deck, down in the tropics, as I gazed
up into the starlit sky and thought of her and her
sweet words. And I vowed to be a better man, one
more worthy of her. I remembered it when on reach-
ing San Francisco I put my brains in my pocket and
joined the good people of Calvary church in their
march heavenward. I remembered it at the Sabbath-
school where I taught, at the prayer-meetings which
I attended. All through the religious life which for
the next ten years I so strictly led I never forgot
her, for she was with me, with her holy living and
that dear love and fond devotion of which in part
she robbed God to bestow on me.

Indeed and in truth I was earnest in my profession
both of love and of godliness ; and my love was crowned
with success, for during the next visit east I married
Emily Ketchum. My godliness, uhi lapsus? For
ten years I was of the strictest sect a devotee. I

MARRIAGE. 153

paid tithes, attended to all the ordinances of religion,
would not even look at a secular newspaper on the
sabbath; I sank my reason in reasonless dogmas, and
blindly abandoned myself to blind teachers. Of a
verity mine was the Jides carbonarii; I believed what
the church believed, and the church believed what I
believed. Now, what I believe God knoweth; what
the church believes God knoweth. Belief is based on
blindness: faith in things unseen and unknown is
made a merit; reason is repudiated, but mine will
work whether I will or no.

I will only glance over the leading events of the
next twelve years, and hasten to the subject-mat-
ter of this book. Shortly after my return to San
Francisco, to make room for the large additions to
our stock, we rented two rooms fronting on Merchant
street, in the rear of our store, cutting through the
partition wall to give us access from the Montgomery-
street store. Subsequently we occupied the whole
building on Merchant street, forty by sixty feet, three
stories. During the next year Mr Hunt withdrew
from the partnership. Meanwhile, though little more
than a boy myself, I gave special attention to my
boys. I was determined that my establishment
should be a model of order, morality, and disci-
pline. At once studying them and teaching them,
of some I made salesmen, of others book-keepers,
giving to the brightest and most devoted leaderships.

In the spring of 1859 I again visited the east, and
in the autumn of that year my marriage took place,
which was in this wise: The sacred correspondence
had long since been cut off. To the parents the device
was altogether too transparent. On reaching Buffalo
I immediately presented myself, and found the lady
amiable and tractable. I told her I had come to
marry her; in reply she declared herself willing, but
feared her parents would object to her going so far
from them. That night I left for Ohio, to give time

154 THE HOUSE OF H. H. BANCROFT AND COMPANY.

for consideration. In three weeks I returned and asked
her if she was ready. For herself, yes, but she would
not leave her father and mother without their full
and free assent; so to the father and mother I went.
They sighed and hesitated; I desired a 'yes' or 'no/
and receiving neither that night I left for New York.
This time I remained away six weeks, and on return-
ing all was happiness. In due time the ceremony was
performed and we sailed for California. The first two
years we lived on Harrison street, between First and
Second streets, and there my daughter Kate was born.
Afterward we passed certain seasons at Oakland and
Alameda.

In 1860 my father was appointed by President
Lincoln Indian agent in Washington territory, and
took up his residence at Fort Simcoe. My mother
soon joined him, and also my youngest sister, Mary,
who afterward married Mr T. B. Trevett. After the
expiration of the term, four years, my parents settled
in San Francisco, and Mrs Trevett in Portland,
Oregon.

Having now an abundance of means at my com-
mand, I determined to establish a branch in the
stationery business among the wholesale houses, as we
had little of that trade. To this Mr Kenny took ex-
ceptions. I persisting, he withdrew; the stock was
divided, and he joining his brother-in-law, Mr Alex-
ander, they opened a shop opposite to me. Naturally
enough we quarrelled; he brought suit against me,
but, remembering our long friendship, before the case
came up for trial I went to him and told him he should
have all he demanded. Immediately we became friends
again; and this was our first and last unpleasantness.

As I was now alone, I closed the stationery branch,
and moved the stock to the Montgomery street store,
where I could better control matters. Scarcely was
this done when the political sky darkened ; then roared
rebellion ; and for the next five years fortunes were
thrust on Californian merchants from the rise in gold,

BUILDING AND BUSINESS. 165

or rather from the depreciation of the currency in
which they paid their debts — fortunes which otherwise
could never have been accumulated but by genera-
tions of successful trade.

In January, 1862, my wife made a visit to her friends
at home, and the following summer I took a hurried
trip to London, Paris, New York, and Buffalo, bring-
ing her back with me. This knocking about the
world, with the time which it forced from business
devoted to observation and thought under new con-
ditions, was a great educator. It was then that am-
bition became fired, and ideas came rushing in on me
faster than I could handle them. Notwithstanding I
had read and studied somewhat, yet the old world,
with its antique works and ways, seen by the eye of
inexperience, was at once a romance and a revelation.
In 1866-7 I spent a year in Europe with my wife,
made the tour of Great Britain and the continent,
came back to Buffalo, and there remained the following
winter, visited Washington in the spring, and returned
to San Francisco in the autumn of 1868.

Meanwhile the business had assumed such pro-
portions that more room was absolutely necessary.
Althouo'h it had two store-rooms on Commercial
street, and suffered the inconvenience of having the
stock divided; and although we had goods stored in
warehouses, we were still very crowded. My friends
had long desired that I should build, and had been
looking for a suitable place for years without finding
one. In the selection of a site two points were to be
regarded, locality and depth of lot. Without the one
our trade would suffer, and without the other, in order
to obtain the amount of room necessary, so much
frontage on the street would be taken up as to make
the property too costly for the business to carry. In
regard to the site, if we could not obtain exactly what
we would like we must take what we could get.

Following Montgomery and Kearny streets out to

156 THE HOUSE OF H. H. BANCROFT AND COMPANY.

Market, we examined every piece of property and
found nothing ; then out Market to Third street, and
beyond, where after some difficulty, and by paying a
large price to five different owners, I succeeded in
obtaining seven lots together, three on Market street
and four on Stevenson street, making in all a little
more than seventy-five by one hundred and seventy
feet. This was regarded as far beyond business limits
at the time, but it was the best I could do, and in
six or seven years a more desirable location could not
be found in the city.

It w^as one of the turning-points of my life, this
move to Market street. Had I been of a tempera-
ment to hasten less rapidly ; had I remained content
to plod along after the old method, out of debt and
danger, with no thought of anything further than
accumulation and investmeiit, for self and family, for
this world and the next world, a comfortable place in
both being the whole of it — the map of my destiny,
as well as that of many others, would present quite a
different appearance. But like all else that God or-
dains, it is better as it is. The truth is, my frequent
absence from business had weaned me from it — this,
and the constantly recurring question which kept forc-
ing itself on my mind, ^^Is he not worse than a fool
who labors for more when he has enough ; worse than
a swine who stuffs himself when he is already full?"
If I could turn my back upon it all, it would add to
my days, if that were any benefit. Had I known
what was before me I would probably have retired
from business at the time, but in my employ were as
fine a company of young men, grown up under my
own eye and teachings, as ever 1 saw in any mercan-
tile establishment, and I had not the heart to break
in pieces the commercial structure which with their
assistance I had reared, and turn them adrift upon
the world.

In Europe, for the first time in my life, I had

DEEP WATERS. 157

encountered a class of people who deemed it a dis-
grace to engage in trade. Many I had seen who
were too proud or too lazy to work, but never be-
fore had come to my notice those who would not if
they could make money, though it involved no manual
labor. Here the idea seemed first to strike me, and I
asked myself, Is there then in this world something
better than money that these men should scorn to soil
their fingers with it? Now I never yet was ashamed
of my occupation, and I hope never to be; otherwise
I should endeavor speedily to lay it aside. Nor do I
conceive any more disgrace attached to laboring with
the hands than with the head. I feel no more sense of
shame when carrying a bundle or nailing up a box of
goods than when signing a check, or writing history,
or riding in the park. A banker is necessarily neither
better nor worse per se than a boot-black, though,
if obliged to chose, I would adopt the former calling,
because it is more important, and productive of greater
results. The consuming of my soul on the altar of
avarice I objected to, not work. I have worked twice,
ten times, as hard writing books as ever I did selling
books. But for the occasional breaking away from
business, long enough for my thoughts to form for
themselves new channels, I should have been a slave
to it till this day, for no one was more interested and
absorbed in money-making while engaged in it than I.
In accordance with my purposes, then, historical
and professional, in 1869 I began building. Already
I had in contemplation a costly dwelling, parts of
which had been constructed in England and at the
east, and shipped hither from time to time, till a great
mass of material had accumulated which must be put
together. I resolved, somewhat recklessly, to make
one affair of it all, and build a store and dwelling-house
at the same time, and have done with it. Times were
then good, business was steady, and with the ex-
perience of thirteen years behind me I thought I
could calculate closely enough in money matters not

158 THE HOUSE OF H. H. BANCROFT AND COMPANY.

to be troubled. Consequently my plans were drawn,
I ordered my material, gave out contracts for the sev-
eral parts, and soon a hundred men or more were at
work.

And now began a series of the severest trials of
my life, trials which I gladly would have escaped in
death, thanking the merciless monster had he finished
the work which was half done. In December, 1869,
my wife died. Other men's wives had died before, and
left them, I suppose, as crushed as I was; but mine
had never died, and I knew not what it was to disjoin
and bury that part of myself That which comes to
every one, in coming to me for the first time brought
surprise. If my sorrow had been the only sorrow of
the kind inflicted on the race I might publish it with
loud lamentations for the entertainment of mankind;
but all know of death, and its effects, though none
know what it is. It is not a very pleasant sensation,
that of being entirely alone in the universe, that of
being on not very good terms with the invisible, and
caring little or nothing for the visible. Oh the weari-
some sun! I cried, will it never cease shining? Will
the evening never cease its visitation, or the river its
flow? Must the green grass always grow, and must
birds always sing? True, I had my little daughter;
God bless her ! but when night after night she sobbed
herself to sleep upon my breast, it only made me
angry that I could not help her. Behold the quin-
tessence of folly ! to mourn for that which is inevitable
to all, to be incensed at inexorable fate, to remain for
years sullen over the mysterious ways of the un-
knowable. I tried prayer for relief both before and
after her death; if ever one of God's creatures prayed
earnestly and honestly, with clean uplifted hands, in
faith nothing doubting, that one was myself But all
was of no avail. Then I began to think, and to ask
myself if ever a prayer of mine had been answered;
or if to any one who ever lived was given, to a cer-
tainty, not as seen alone through the eyes of faith, the

SUMMUM JUS S^PE SUMMA INJURIA. 159

thing he asked because he asked it. And I com-
plained; the light of my soul put out — wherefore?
Not in punishment, as some would say, else God is
not just, because many more wicked than I are not so
afflicted. I would not treat my worst enemy, let alone
my child, as God deals with me, whom he professes
to love more than I love my child. But the ways of
God are past finding out, saith the preacher. Then
why preach to me as though you had found them out?
Sent hither without our will, thrust hence against our
will — ^be still, my heart, you know not what you say!
Wait.

It is beautiful, this world, and life is lovely. Death
presents no pleasing prospect. Mortal or immortal,
the soul dissolved or hied to realms of bliss; that
mighty miracle, the intellect, which here moves moun-
tains, laughs at the sea, and subjects all things earthly —
this subtile intelligence that knows it is, evaporated,
returned to gas, to cosmic force, to Nirvana, or hover-
ing mute and inane in space ; to close the eyes to this
fair world, to the bright sun, the gorgeous landscape,
and the sparkling waters; to close the mouth to its
draughts of life-inspiring air; and the boxed body to
consign to its slimy walled dungeon, there to fatten
worms, seems scarcely a fitting end for so much care,
so much straining at higher planes of existence. Bet-
ter befitting death, judging from all we can see of it,
is a Dives' life, wherein pleasure is the only profit,
than a threescore and ten years of self-denial, strug-
gling for attainments only to be dissipated in the end.
0 horrible nightmare of a possible future non-exist-
ence ! Better never to have been than to have been
and not to be; else to what purpose this life of dis-
pensations? Some say they desire death, but few
such I believe. Death is ever at the bidding of those
who seek him. Such are either half-crazed with
morbid grief, or drunk with pride and egotism, or
smitten with coward fear. No healthy mind is anx-
ious to cast itself into the boundless, mysterious,

160 THE HOUSE OF H. H. BANCROFT AND COMPANY.

unknown beyond. Fanatics, Christians, Mohamme-
dans, savages, may dethrone sense, set up and hug
to blindness a fancied paradise or happy hunting-
ground in the behef that to die is to gain, yet none
are more chary of risking their precious lives upon it
than these.

Life and death are most stupendous mysteries, death
not more than life, being simply not being. One thing
alone might ever make me covet death, and that would
be an eager anxiety to know what it is, and what is
beyond it. But millions know this, or are beyond the
knowing of it; and when in an average good humor,
though I be as thirsty for truth as Odin, who gave
one eye to drink of the waters of Mimir's well where-
in all knowledge lay concealed, I am willing to wait
the few short swiftly w^hirling years left to me.

It is a fearful thing thus to go forth into the black-
ness, but still harder to endure to let wife or little
one grope thither alone. Give me, O God, no food
for m}^ hungry love, else snatch it not from me ere I
have scarcely tasted it ! For her who so lately clung
to me as to an anchor of safety, who so often opened
upon me the eyes of her inward mute pride and conso-
lation, to be as by rude hands hurried hence seemed
not heavenly to me. Not until the fire lighted by
disease had spent itself, not until the hectic flush had
faded, and the fever heat had fled, leaving the heart still
and the limbs cold, did love forsake the glazing eye, or
those fleshless fingers cease to press the clasped hand.

She is gone, and who cares? Neither deities nor
men. The world laughs, and swears, and cheats as
hitherto. The undertaker's long face of mercenary
solemnity haunts you ; the hustling crowd, careless of
your cankering grief, madden you. There go the
word- wise Avhippers-in of Charon, the doctors, with
their luxurious equipages drawn by sleek horses, the
gift of hell-feeding Hermes ; scarce enough they make
themselves their work being done — so ran my bitter
thoughts.

OMNIA AD DEI GLORIAM. 161

It is difficult even for a philosopher to separate
sorrow and gloom from death. When at the demise
of Socrates, Plato wished to cheer and comfort Apol-
lodorus, the disciple of the great deceased, so great
indeed that neither death nor time could rob him of
his greatness, he offered him a cup of wine ; where-
upon Apollodorus replied indignantly, "I would rather
have pledged Socrates in his hemlock than you in this
wine." '^Animus sequus optimum est serumnse condi-
mentum," says Plautus, which is all very well as a
maxim. There is no doubt that a well balanced mind
is the best remedy against afflictions, but great grief
often throws mind out of balance, so that, the remedy
being absent, the application fails.

It often strikes me strangely to hear dead men's dis-
courses on death, to read what matchless Shakespeare
says of it, and proud, imperious Byron, and subtile-
sensed Shelley, and Aristotle, Plato, and the rest. Pity
'tis we cannot now speak the word that tells us what
death is, we who have yet to die.

The burden of my loss was laid upon me gradually ;
it was not felt in its fullest force at first; it was only
as the years passed by that I could fully realize it.
Occupation is the antidote to grief; give me work or
I die ; work which shall be to me a nepenthe to oblit-
erate all sorrows. And work enough I had, but it
was of the exasperating and not of the soothing kind.
If I could have shut myself up, away from the world,
and absorbed my mind in pursuit of whatever was
most congenial to it, that would have been medicine
indeed. Cicero found far more consolation in the
diversion of thought incident to the writing of his
philosophical treatises, than in the philosophy they
contained. But this was denied me. It was building
and business, grown doubly hateful now that she for
whom I chiefly labored had gone. I stayed the work-
men on the house, and let it stand, a ghastly spectacle
to the neighborhood for over a year; then I finished
it, thinking it well enough to save the material. The

Lit. Ind. 11

162 THE HOUSE OF H. H. BANCROFT AND COMPANY.

carpenters still hammered away on the store building,
and completed it in April, 1870.

The business was now one of the most extensive
of the kind in the world. It was divided into nine
departments, each in charge of an experienced and
responsible head, with the requisite number of assist-
ants, and each in itself as large as an ordinary business
in our line of trade. But this was not enough. Thus
far it was purely a mercantile and publishing house.
To make it perfect, complete, and symmetrical, manu-
facturing must be added. This I had long been am-
bitious of doing, but was prevented by lack of room.
Now this obstacle was removed, and I determined to
try the experiment. The mercantile stock was brought
up and properly arranged in the different departments
on the first and second floors and basement, on one
side of the new building. These rooms were each
thirty-five by one hundred and seventy feet. On the
third and fourth floors respectively were placed a
printing-office and bookbindery, each covering the
entire ground of the building, seventy- five by one
hundred and seventy feet. To accomplish this more
easily and economically several small establishments
were purchased and moved with their business into
the new premises, such as a printing, an engraving,
a lithographing, and a stationery establishment. A
steam-engine was placed in the basement to drive
the machinery above, and an artesian well was dug
to supply the premises with water. A department
of music and pianos was also added. My library of
Pacific coast books was alphabetically arranged on the
fifth floor, which was of the same dimensions as the
rooms below. Then I changed the name of the
business, the initial letters only, my responsibility,
however, remaining the same. The idea was not emi-
nently practicable, I will admit, that I should expect
to remain at the head of a large and intricate business,
involving many interests and accompanied by endless
detail, and see it continue its successful course, and at

THE PAST AND THE TO-COME. 163

the same time withdraw my thoughts and attention
from it so as to do justice to any hterary or historical
undertaking. "How dared you undertake crossing
the Sierra?" the pioneer railroad men were asked.

" Because we were not railroad men," was the
reply.

Thus, I felt, was ended the first episode of my life.
I had begun with nothing, building up by my own
individual efforts, in sixteen years, a mammoth busi-
ness of which I might justly feel proud. I had
schooled from the rudiments, and carried them
through all the ramifications and complications of
that business, a score and more of active and intelli-
gent young men, each competent to take the lead in
his department, and of them I was proud. Arrived
at that estate where money-making had ceased to be
the chief pleasure, I might now retire into idleness, or
begin life anew. The short spurt of self-consciousness
vouchsafed our vitality ought not all to be spent in
getting ready to live.

But this was not yet to be. I must first pay the
penalty of overdoing, a penalty which in my business
career I have oftener paid than the penalty arising
from lack of energy. That I had built simultaneously
a fine store and an expensive dwelling was no mark
of folly, for my finances were such that I could afford
it. That I had reorganized the business, spread it out
upon a new basis, doubled its capacity, and doubled
its expenses, was no mark of folly, for every depart-
ment, both of the mercantile and manufacturing parts,
had grown into existence. There was nothing about
the establishment theoretical, fanciful, or speculative
in character. All was eminently practical, the re-
sult of natural growth. The business extended from
British Columbia to Mexico, and over to the Hawaiian
islands, Japan, and China, and was in a flourishing
condition ; and reports from the heads of the several
departments showed its status every month. That it

164 THE HOUSE OF H. H. BANCROFT AND COMPANY.

should successfully carry us through the most trying
time which was to follow, amply proves that its con-
dition was not unsound, nor its establishment on such
a basis impracticable.

Woes, however, were at hand. First appeared one
following the opening of the Pacific railway. This
grand event, so ardently desired, and so earnestly
advocated on both sides of the continent since the
occupation of the country by Anglo-Americans, was
celebrated with guns, and banners, and music, as if the
millennium had come; and every one thought it had.
There were many afterward who said they knew and
affirmed it at the time that this road at first would
bring nothing but financial disaster and ruin to Cali-
fornia, but before such disaster and ruin came I
for one heard nothing of its approach. On the con-
trary, though prices of real estate were already in-
flated, and the city had been laid out in homestead
lots for a distance of ten miles round, and sold at rates
in keeping with a population of three millions, the
universal impression was that prices would go higher
and that every one on completion of the railway would
be rich. But every one did not become rich. Every
one wanted to sell, and could not, and there was a gen-
eral collapse. For five years the best and most central
property remained stationary, with scarcely a move-
ment in all that time, while outside property fell in
some cases to one tenth its former estimated value.

Business was likewise revolutionized. Immediately
the railway was in running order the attention of
buyers throughout the country, large and small, was
turned tow^ard the east. ''We can now purchase in
New York as well as in San Francisco," they said,
"and save one profit." Consequently prices in San
Francisco fell far below remunerative rates, and the
question with our jobbers was, not whether they could
make as much money as formerly, but whether they
could do business at all. Some classes of business
were obliged to succumb, and many merchants failed.

I

A GENERAL COLLAPSE. 165

Large stocks, accumulated at low rates during the
war when currency was at a discount of from twenty-
five to fifty per cent, were thrown upon the market,
and prices of many articles ruled far below the cost of
reproduction. Thus, with heavy expenses and no
profits, affairs began to look ominous. At such times
a large, broadly extended business is much more
unwieldy than a small one. Certain expenses are
necessary; it is impossible to reduce them in pro-
portion to the shrinkage of prices and the stagnation
of trade.

More was yet to come. As all Californians well
know, the prosperity of a season depends on the rain-
fall. Sometimes the effects of one dry winter may be
bridged over by a prosperous year before and after.
But when two or three dry seasons come together the
result is most disastrous, and a year or two of favor-
able rains are usually required before the state entirely
recuperates. As if to try the endurance of our mer-
chants to the utmost, three dry winters and ^ve
long years of hard times followed the opening of the
railway. That so many lived through them is the
wonder. That my business especially did not fail,
with such an accumulation of untoward circumstances,
proved conclusively that it was sound and well man-
aged. Building has ruined many a man; I had
built. Branching out has ruined many a man; I
had branched. The fall in real estate, the revolution
in profits incident to the opening of the railway, and
the dry seasons, each of these has severally ruined
many men. All these came upon me at one time,
and yet the house lived through it.

It may easily be seen that to draw one's mind from
business at such a time and fix it on literary pursuits
was no easy matter. Cares, like flies, buzz perpetu-
ally in one's ears; lock the door, and they creep in
through invisible apertures. Yet I attempted it,
though at first with indifferent success. The work
on the fifth floor, hereinafter to be described, was

166 THE HOUSE OF H. H. BANCROFT AND COMPANY.

not always regarded with favor by those of the other
floors. It drew money from the business, which
remaining might be the means of saving it from
destruction. It allured the attention of one whose
presence might be the salvation of the establishment.
After all it was but a hobby, and would result in
neither profit nor honor. Of course I could do as I
liked with my own, but was it not folly to jeopardize
the life of the business to gain a few years of time for
profitless work? Would it not be better to wait till
times were better, till money could be spared, and
danger was passed?

Although the years of financial uncertainty that
followed the completion of the railway were thus
withering to my work, gloomy and depressing, yet
I persisted. Day after day, and year after year, I
lavished time and money in the vain attempt to ac-
complish I knew not what. It was something I
desired to do, and I was determined to find out what
it was, and then to do it if I could. Although my
mind was in anything but a condition suitable for
the task, I felt in no mood to wait. Every day, or
month, or year delayed was so much taken from my
life. My age — thirty-seven or thereabout — was some-
what advanced for undertaking a literary work of any
magnitude, and no time must be lost. Such was my
infatuation that I would not have hesitated, any mo-
ment these dozen years, had the question arisen to
abandon the business or my plan. I did not consider
it right to bring disaster on others, but I never believed
that such a result would follow my course. True, it
is one thing to originate a business and quite another
to maintain it; yet I felt that the heads of depart-
ments were competent to manage affairs, reporting to
me every month. The business was paying well, and
I would restrict my expenditures in every otlier way
except to forego or delay a work which had become
dearer to me than life. So I toiled on with greater
or less success, oftentimes with a heavy heart and a

I

I

SUCCESS THROUGH TRIBULATION. 167

heated brain, tired out, discouraged, not knowing
if ever I should be permitted to complete anything
I had undertaken, in which event all would be lost. I
toiled as if divinely commissioned, though dealing less
and less in divinity. I was constrained to the effort,
if any one can tell what that is.

It was between the hours of work that I ex-
perienced the greatest depression; once at my table
and fairly launched upon my writing, I was absorbed
by it, and forgot for the time the risks I was taking.

This season of trial was not without its benefits.
It forced upon me a species of self-abnegation which
I might never otherwise have attained. Had pleasure
been pleasurable to me; had I been able to enjoy high
living and extravagant expenditures with my affairs
in so uncertain a state, or had my finances been such
as to enable me without stint to enjoy gentlemanly
leisure, or literary or other idling, it is doubtful
whether I could have mustered courage and persist-
ence to carry forward my undertaking, or rather to
undertake it. One knows not what can be done or
suffered until necessity makes the demand. It was a
trial of temper which well-nigh proved fatal. My life
during these years was a series of excesses, the very
worst state into which a man can fall — excess of
work, followed by its natural reaction, and ending in
ill health and despondency. Work is the amethystine
antidote to every excess, except excess of work.

In time, however, the clouds cleared; the wheels
of business revolved with smoothness and regularity;
my work assumed shape, part of it was finished and
praised; letters of encouragement came pouring in
like healthful breezes to the heated brow; I acquired
a name, and all men smiled upon me. Then I built
Babylonian towers, and climbing heavenward peered
into paradise.

CHAPTER VII.

FROM BIBLIOPOLIST TO BIBLIOPHILE.

Still am I besy bokes assemblynge ;

For to have plenty, it is a pleasaunt thynge.

Brandt.

Thus far, all through life, had my intellectual being
craved ever more substantial nutriment. While in
business I was Mammon's devotee ; yet money did not
satisfy me. Religion tended rather to excite longings
than to allay them. Religionists would say I did
not have enough of it, if indeed I had any at all — in
other words I was not doctrinally dead drunk. Yet
I fasted and prayed, prayed as if to enlist all the
forces of heaven to make a man of me, and fancied
I had faith, fancied I saw miracles wrought in my
behalf and mountains removed; though later, when
my eyes were opened and my prejudices melted by
the light of reason, even as the sun dispels the fog,
I saw the mountains standing just where they were.
Yet for a time I revelled in the delights of fanaticism.
The feeling that in God's presence and before the
very eyes of interested omnipotence I was conscien-
tiously accomplishing my duties, this gave a consola-i
tion that the drudgery of Sunday-school efforts, or
even the overwhelming shame of breaking down in]
prayer-meeting, could not wholly eradicate. Neverthe-
less, saintship sat not gracefully upon me. I knew
myself to be not what I professed to be, better or dif-
ferent from other sinners, any more than were those
who sat in the pews around me ; so I struggled, beat-
ing the air and longing for a more realistic existence.

[168J

A NEW LIFE. 169

I could not understand it then, but I see it clearly
now. It was the enlargement and ennoblement of
the immaterial Me that I longed for. My intellect
seemed caged in brass, and my soul smothered in the
cheating mannerisms of society. Often I asked my-
self, Is this then all of life? to heap up merchandise
for those who come after me to scatter, and to listen
on Sundays to the stupid reiteration of dead formulas ?
Insatiable grew my craving; and I said, I will die now
in order that I may live a little before I die. I will
die to the past, to money getting, to station rooting;
I will take a straight look upward and beyond, and see
if I can realize religion ; I will unlock the cage of my
thoughts and let them roam w4iithersoever they will;
better, I will bare my soul to its maker, and throw
myself, as he made me, humbly and trustingly on him.
Away with the continual quaking fear of God's wrath,
like that of the savage who hears his demon howl in
the tempest; away with the fashionable superstitions
of society, that sap manliness and lay burdens upon
us that would shame an African slave to bear ! Span-
ning the circle of knowledge, which sweeps round from
the beginning of knowledge to the present time, hence-
forth I will consider with Socrates, ^'how I shall pre-
sent my soul whole and undefiled before the judge in
that day. Renouncing the honors at which the world
aims, I desire only to know the truth, to live as well
as I can, and when the time comes, to die."

Ah ! this gradual unloading of hope, as slowly along
the riper years of our experience we awake from the
purple colorings of youth to a sense of what and where
we are. Mothers should be careful regarding the
stories they tell their children, lest their minds remain
always infantile. Cicero would not, while he lived,
have his mistaken beUef in the immortality of the soul
uprooted, if it were a mistaken belief. But Cicero me
no Ciceros. I would know the truth. Though death
is a hideous thing, I would not have mine sugar-coated
with a lie. Intellectual cultivation implies thinking,

170 FROM BIBLIOPOLIST TO BIBLIOPHILE.

and thinking tends to weaken faith. There is no help
for it. At the border land of faith reason must pause.
To know, you must question; once question and you
are lost. The will can accomplish its purpose only by
resolutely shutting the eyes and plunging itself into
the blackness of reasonless belief; just as in any
kind of human development one part can reach its
fullest attainment only at the expense of another part,
and the moment you attempt to strike the happy
mean you topple over to the other side. If nothing
else, nihilism is quickly reached; just as Spinoza, in
abandoning Judaism without accepting Christianity,
became, as some said, the blank leaf between the old
testament and the new.

Mind progresses in surges. An age of skepticism
succeeds an age of faith. History separates civiliza-
tion into periods, now organic and affirmative, now
critical and negative; at one time creeds and convic-
tions are established and developed, at another time
they grow old and die or are abolished. Greek and
Roman polytheism, and Christianity, each marked an
organic period; Greek philosophy, the reformation,
and modern science, each marked an epoch of skepti-
cism.

There is no higher morality than disinterestedness.
There is no virtue like intellectual liberty. There is
no vice so scourging as prejudice. To be the slave of
sect or party, or to barter truth for pride of opinion,
is to sell one's soul to the father of lies. I would rather
be the dog of Diogenes than high-priest of the proudest
superstition. It is pitiful to see the waves of intel-
lectual bias on which mankind ride into eternity, to
realize how little is true of all that is written in books
and newspapers, of all that is spoken by politicians,
preachers, men of business, and women of society.

When Francis Bacon wrote, ''I had rather believe
all the fables in the legends, and the talmud, and the
alcoran, than that this universal frame is without
mind," he did not display that great wisdom for which

SHADOW AND SUBSTANCE. 171

he is accredited. Of course, Bacon was privileged to
believe what he chose, but what he believed does not
affect the fact — what anybody believes does not affect
any fact. This universal frame may not be without
mind ; let us hope that it is not ; if the universal
frame has not mind, where does man's intellect come
from ? Bacon was a great philosopher, but a bad man
and a mean man — too innately mean and bad ever to
have written the matchless plays of Shakespeare, in
my opinion. Plato was also a great philosopher,
likewise Aristotle and the rest. But the ancients and
their wisdom, as concerning things spiritual, were as
devoid of common sense as what is too often preached
upon the subject to-day,

A thinking man who deals in facts is skeptical
before he knows it. To be at all fitted for writing
history, or indeed for writing anything, a man must
have at his command a wide range of facts which he
stands ready to regard fairly and to handle truthfully.
Unless he is ready to be led wherever truth will take
him he should leave investigating alone. If he holds
to shadows and prizes them more than realities, if he
prefers beliefs to truth, it were better he kept to his
farm or his merchandise, and let teaching and preach-
ing alone, for we have enough already of hypocrisy
and cant.

And so it was that, as time and my work went on,
and faith in traditions, in what others had said and
believed, became weakened; seeing in all that had
been written so much diversity of opinion, so much
palpable error and flat contradiction, I found within me
stronger and ever increasing the desire of independent
and exact thinking. Still, as the rosy expectations of
youth are scorched by the light of experience it is
little comfort to know that one is growing wiser; it
is little comfort to the eye of faith to have the dimness
of vision removed, only to see its dearest hopes melt
into illimitable ether.

172 FROM BIBLIOPOLIST TO BIBLIOPHILE.

While in Europe and elsewhere every moment of
my spare time was occupied in historical reading and
in the study of languages ; yet it seemed like pouring
water into a sieve. The appetite was ravenous, in-
creased by what it fed on. Books ! books ! I revelled
in books. After buying and selhng, after ministering
to others all my life, I would now enjoy them; I would
bathe my mind in them till saturated with the better
part of their contents. And still to this day I cry
with Horace, Let me have books ! Not as the languid
pleasure of Montaigne, but as the substantial world
of Wordsworth.

I read and crammed my head with basketfuls of facts
and figures, only to crowd them out and overflow it
with others. Hundreds of authors I skimmed in rapid
succession until I knew or felt I knew nothing. Then
I threw aside reading for a time and let my thoughts
loose, only to return again to my beloved books.

Had my mind been able to retain what it received,
there would have been greater hope of filling it. The
activities and anxieties of trade had left me unpre-
pared all at once to digest this great and sudden feast.
As I have before said, only a trained mind possesses
the power of pure abstraction. Even reading without
reflection is a weakening process. It seemed to me I
had no memory for isolated or individual facts, that
as yet there was no concretion in my attainments, not
enough of knowledge within me to coalesce, central-
ize, or hold together. For many months all seemed
chaotic, and whatever was thrown into my mental
reservoir appeared to evaporate, or become nebulous,
and mingle obscurely with the rest. While in Buflalo,
after my return from Europe, I wrote somewhat; but
the winter was spent under a cloud, and it was not until
after a trip to New York and Washington, and indeed
a longer one to San Francisco, wherein I was forced
to pause and reflect, that the sky became bright and
my mental machinery began to work with precision.
The transition thus accomplished was like the ending

I

OMNIPOTENT ACCIDENT. 173

of one life and the entering upon another, so different
and distinct are the two worlds, the world of business
and the world of letters.

In an old diary begun the 5th of May, 1859, I find
written: "To-day I am twenty-seven years of age.
In my younger days I used to think it praiseworthy
to keep a diary. I do a great deal of thinking at
times ; some of it may amount to something, much of
it does not. I often feel that if I could indulge, to
the fullest and freest extent, in the simple act of
discharging my thoughts on paper, it would afford my
mind some relief."

To begin at the beginning. In 1859 William H.
Knight, then in my service as editor and compiler of
statistical works relative to the Pacific coast, was en-
gaged in preparing the Hand- Booh Almanac for the
year 1860. From time to time he asked of me certain
books required for the work. It occurred to me that
we should probably have frequent occasion to refer to
books on California, Oregon, Washington, and Utah,
and that it might be more convenient to have them
all together. I always had a taste, more pleasant
than profitable, for publishing books, for conceiving a
work and having it wrought out under my direction.
To this taste may be attributed the origin of half the
books published in California during the first twenty
years of its existence as a state, if we except law re-
ports, legislative proceedings, directories, and compila-
tions of that character. Yet I have seldom published
anything but law-books that did not result in a loss
of money. Books for general reading, miscellaneous
books in trade vernacular, even if intrinsically good,
found few purchasers in California. The field was not
large enough; there were not enough book buyers in
it to absorb an edition of any work, except a law-
book, or a book intended as a working tool for a class.
Lawyers like solid leverage, and in the absence of
books they are powerless; they cannot afford to be

174 FROM BIBLIOPOLIST TO BIBLIOPHILE.

without them ; they buy them as mill-men buy stones
to grind out toll withal. Physicians do not require
so many books, but some have fine libraries. Two or
three medical books treating of climate and diseases
peculiar to California have been published in this
country with tolerable success; but the medical man
is by no means so dependent on books as the man of
law — that is to say, after he has once finished his
studies and is established in practice. His is a pro-
fession dependent more on intuition and natural in-
sight into character and causations, and above all, on
a thorough understanding of the case, and the closest
watchfulness in conducting it through intricate and
ever-changing complications. Poetry has often been
essayed in California, for the most part doggerel; yet
should Byron come here and publish for the first time
his Childe Harold, it would not find buyers enough to
pay the printer. Even Tuthill's History of California,
vigorously offered by subscription, did not return the
cost of plates, paper, press work, and binding. He who
dances must pay the fiddler. Either the author or the
publisher must make up his mind to remunerate the
printer; the people will not till there are more of them,
and with different tastes.

By having all the material on California together,
so that I could see what had been done, I was enabled
to form a clearer idea of what might be done in the
way of book-publishing on this coast. Accordingly I
requested Mr Knight to clear the shelves around his
desk, and to them I transferred every book I could
find in my stock having reference to this country. I
succeeded in getting together some fifty or seventy-
five volumes. This w^as the origin of my library,
sometimes called the Pacific Library, but latterly the
Bancroft Library. I looked at the volumes thus
brought together, and remarked to Mr Knight, "That
is doing very well; I did not imagine there were so
many."

I thought no more of the matter till some time after-

RATIONAL PURPOSE. I75

ward, happening in at the bookstore of Epes Ellery,
on Washington street, called antiquarian because he
dealt in second-hand books, though of recent dates,
my eyes lighted on some old pamphlets, printed at
different times in California, and it occurred to me to
add them to the Pacific coast books over Mr Knight's
desk. This I did, and then examined more thoroughly
the stocks of Ellery, Carrie and Damon, and the Noisy
Carrier, and purchased one copy each of all the books,
pamphlets, magazines, and pictures touching the sub-
ject. Afterward I found myself looking over the con-
tents of other shops about town, and stopping at the
stands on the sidewalk, and buying any scrap of a
kindred nature which I did not have. Frequently I
would encounter old books in auction stores, and pam-
phlets in lawyers' offices, which I immediately bought
and added to my collection. The next time I visited
the east, without taking any special trouble to seek
them, I secured from the second-hand stores and book-
stalls of New York, Boston, and Philadelphia, what-
ever fell under my observation.

Bibliomaniac I was not. This, with every other
species of lunacy, I disliked. I know nothing morally
wrong for one possessing the money, and having an
appetite for old china, furniture, or other relics, to
hunt it down and buy it ; but it is a taste having no
practical purpose in view, and therefore never would
satisfy me. So in books ; to become a collector,
one should have some object consistent with useful-
ness. Duplicates, fine bindings, and rare editions,
seemed to me of less importance than the subject-
matter of the work. To collect books in an ob-
jectless, desultory manner is not profitable to either
mind or purse. Book collecting without a purpose
may be to some a fascinating pastime, but give it an
object and you endow it with dignity and nobility.
Not half the books printed are ever read ; not half the
books sold are bought to be read. Least of all in the
rabid bibliomaniac need we look for the well read man.

176 FROM BIBLIOPOLIST TO BIBLIOPHILE.

It is true that thus far, and for years afterward, I had
no well defined purpose, further than the original and
insignificant one, in gathering these books; but with
the growth of the collection came the purpose. Acci-
dent first drew me into it, and I continued the pastime
with vague intent. '^ Very generally," says Herbert
Spencer, ^' when a man begins to accumulate books he
ceases to make much use of them;" or, as Disraeli
puts it: ''A passion for collecting books is not always
a passion for literature."

And the rationale of it? Ask a boy why he fills
his pockets with marbles of different varieties, will-
ingly giving two of a kind of which he has three for
one of a kind of which he has none, and his answer
will be, "To see how many kinds I can get." Collect-
ors of old china, of coins, of ancient relics, and of nat-
ural objects, many of them have no higher aim than
the boy with his marbles, though some of the articles
may be of greater utility. At the residence of a gen-
tleman in London I once saw a collection of old china
which he afiirmed had cost him twenty thousand
pounds, and his boast was, simply, that his was the
best and largest in existence. I remember with what
satisfaction he showed me an old cup and saucer, worth
intrinsically perhaps half a crown, for which a certain
nobleman was pining to give him fifty guineas. ^^ But
he cannot have it, sir! he cannot have it!" cried the
old virtuoso, rubbing his hands in great glee. After
all, what are any of us but boys?

I had a kind of purpose at the beginning, though
that was speedily overshadowed by the magnitude
the matter had assumed as the volumes increased. I
recognized that nothing I could ever accomplish in
the way of publishing would warrant such an outlay
as I was then making. It was not long before any
idea I may have entertained in the way of pecuniary
return was abandoned ; there was no money in making
the collection, or in any literary work connected with
it. Yet certain books I knew to be intrinsically val-

FIRST VISIT TO EUROPE. 177

uable; old, rare, and valuable books would increase
rather than diminish in value, and as I came upon
them from time to time I thought it best to secure all
there were relating to this coast. After all the cost
in money was not much; it was the time that counted;
and the time, might it not be as profitable so spent as
in sipping sugared water on the Paris boulevard, or
other of the insipid sweets of fashionable society ? It
was understood from the first that nothing in my col-
lection was for sale; sometime, I thought, the whole
might be sold to a library or public institution; but
I would wait, at least, until the collection was com-
plete.

The library of Richard Heber, the great English
bibliomaniac, who died in 1833, consisting of about
140,000 volumes, cost him, when rare books were not
half so expensive as now, over $900,000, or say seven
dollars a volume, equivalent at least to fifteen dol-
lars a volume at the present time. Two hundred and
sixteen days were occupied in the sale, by auction, of
this famous collection after the owner's death. And
there are many instances where collections of books
have brought fair prices. The directors of the British
Museum gave Lord Elgin £35,000 for fragments of
the Athenian Parthenon, collected by him in 1802,
worth to Great Britain not a tenth part of what the
Bancroft collection is worth to California. And yet
I well knew if my library were then sold it would not
bring its cost, however it might increase in value as
the years went by.

I had now, perhaps, a thousand volumes, and began
to be pretty well satisfied with my efforts. When,
however, in 1862 I visited London and Paris, and
rummaged the enormous stocks of second-hand books
in the hundreds of stores of that class, my eyes began
to open. I had much more yet to do. And so it was,
when the collection had reached one thousand volumes
I fancied I had them all; when it had grown to five
thousand, I saw it was but begun. As my time was

Lit. Ind. 12

178 FROM BIBLIOPOLIST TO BIBLIOPHILE.

short I could then do Httle beyond glancing at the
most important stocks and fill a dozen cases or so; but
I determined as soon as I could command the leisure to
make a thorough search all over Europe and complete
my collection, if such a thing were possible, which I
now for the first time began seriously to doubt.

This opportunity offered itself in 1866, when
others felt competent to take charge of the business.
On the I7th of August I landed with my wife at
Queenstown, spent a week in Dublin, passed from the
Giant's causeway to Belfast and Edinburgh, and after
the tour of the lakes proceeded to London. In Ire-
land and Scotland I found little or nothino:; indeed I
visited those countries for pleasure rather than for
books. In London, however, the book mart of the
world — as in fact it is the mart of most other things
bought and sold — I might feed my desires to the full.

During all this time my mind had dwelt more and
more upon the subject, and the vague ideas of mate-
rials for history which originally floated through my
brain began to assume more definite proportions,
though I had no thought, as yet, of ever attempting
to write such a history myself. But I was obliged to
think more or less on the subject in order to determine
the limits of my collection. So far I had searched
little for Mexican literature. Books on Lower Cali-
fornia and northern Mexico I had bought, but Mexican
history and archaeology proper had been passed over.
Now the question arose. Where shall I draw the di-
viding line? The history of California dates back to
the days of Cortes; or more properly, it begins with
the expeditions directed northward by Nuno de Guz-
man, in 1530, and the gradual occupation, during two
and a quarter centuries, of Nueva Galicia, Nueva
Vizcaya, and the Californias. The deeds of Guzman,
his companions, and his successors, the disastrous at-
tempts of the great Hernan Cortes to explore the
Pacific seaboard, and the spiritual conquests of the
new lands by the society of Jesus, I found recorded

BOOK-COLLECTING AS AN ART. 179

in surviving fragments of secular and ecclesiastical
archives, in the numerous original papers of the Jesuit
missionaries, and in the standard works of such writers
as Mota Padilla, Ribas, Alegre, Frejes, Arricivita,
and Beaumont, or, of Baja California especially, in
Venegas, Clavigero, Baegert, and one or two im-
portant anonymous authorities. The Jesuits were
good chroniclers; their records, though diffuse, are
very complete; and from them, by careful work, may
be formed a satisfactory picture of the period they
represent.

Hence, to gather all the material requisite for a
complete narrative of events bearing on California, it
would be necessary to include a large part of the early
history of Mexico, since the two were so blended as
to make it impossible to separate them. This I as-
certained in examining books for California material
alone. It was my custom when collecting to glance
through any book which I thought might contain in-
formation on the territory marked out. I made it no
part of my duty at this time to inquire into the nature
or quality of the production ; it might be the soundest
science or the sickliest of sentimental fiction. I did
not stop to consider, I did not care, whether the book
was of any value or not; it was easier and cheaper
to buy it than to spend time in examining its value.
Besides, in making such a collection it is impossible to
determine at a glance what is of value and what is
not. The most worthless trash may prove some fact
wherein the best book is deficient, and this makes the
trash valuable. The thoughtful may learn from the
stupid much respecting the existence of which the
possessor himself was ignorant. In no other way
could I have made the collection so speedily perfect;
so perfect, indeed, that I have often been astonished,
in writing on a subject or an epoch, to find how few
important books were lacking. An investigator should
have before him all that has been said upon his sub-
ject; he will then make such use of it as his judgment

180 FROM BIBLIOPOLIST TO BIBLIOPHILE.

dictates. Nearly every work in existence, or which
was referred to by the various authorities, I found on
my shelves. And this was the result of my method
of collecting, which was to buy everything I could
obtain, with the view of winnowing the information
at my leisure.

Months of precious time I might easily have wasted
to save a few dollars ; and even then there would have
been no saving. I would not sell to-day out of the
collection the most worthless volume for twice its
cost in money. Every production of every brain is
worth something, if only to illustrate its own worth-
lessness. Every thought is worth to me in money the
cost of transfixing it. Surely I might give the cost
for what the greatest fool in Christendom should take
the trouble to print on a subject under consideration.
As La Fontaine says: '* II n'est rien d'inutile aux
personnes de sens." Indeed no little honor should
attach to such distinguished stupidity.

A book is the cheapest thing in the world. A
common laborer, with the product of a half day's
work, may become possessor of the choicest fruits of
Shakespeare's matchless genius. Long years of prepa-
ration are followed by long years of patient study and
a painful bringing-forth, and the results, summed, are
sold in the shops for a few shillings. And in that mul-
tiplication of copies by the types, which secures this
cheapness, there is no diminution of individual value.
Intrinsically and practically the writings of Plato,
which I can buy for five dollars, are worth as much
to me, will improve my mind as much, as if mine was
the only copy in existence. Ay, they are worth in-
finitely more ; for if Plato had but one reader on this
planet, it were as well for that reader he had none.

Gradually and almost imperceptibly had the area
of my efforts enlarged. From Oregon it was but a
step to British Columbia and Alaska; and as I was
obliged for California to go to Mexico and Spain, it
finally became settled to my mind to make the west-

SECOND VISIT TO EUROPE. 181

ern half of North America my field, including in it
the whole of Mexico and Central America. And
thereupon I searched the histories of Europe for in-
formation concerning their New World relations; and
the archives of Spain, Italy, France, and Great Britain
were in due time examined.

In London I spent about three months, and went
faithfully through every catalogue and every stock of
books likely to contain anything on the Pacific coast.
Of these there were several score, new and old. It
was idle to enter a shop and ask the keeper if he had
any works on California, Mexico, or the Hawaiian
islands : the answer was invariably No. And though
I might pick up half a dozen books under his very
eyes, the answer would still be, if you asked him, No.
California is a long way from London, much farther
than London is from California. None but a very
intelligent bookseller in London knows where to look
for printed information concerning California. The
only way is to examine catalogues and search through
stocks, trusting to no one but yourself.

Believing that a bibliography of the Pacific States
would not only greatly assist me in my search for
books but would also be a proper thing to publish
some day, I employed a man to search the principal
libraries, such as the library of the British Museum
and the library of the Royal Geographical Society,
and make a transcript of the title of every book, manu-
script, pamphlet, and magazine article, touching this
territory, with brief notes or memoranda on the sub-
ject-matter. It was necessary that the person em-
ployed should be a good scholar, familiar with books,
and have at his command several languages. The
person employed was Joseph Walden, and the price
paid him was two guineas a week. My agent, Mr J.
Whitaker, proprietor of The Bookseller, engaged him
for me and superintended the work, which was con-
tinued during the three months I remained in Lon-

182 FROM BIBLIOPOLIST TO BIBLIOPHILE.

don, and for about eight months thereafter. The
titles and abstracts were entered upon paper cards
about four inches square; or, if one work contained
more matter than could be properly described within
that space, the paper would be cut in strips of a uni-
form width, but of the requisite length, and folded to
the uniform size. The cost of this catalogue was a
little over a thousand dollars. In consulting material
in these libraries, which contain much that exists
nowhere else, this list is invaluable as a guide to the
required information. It might be supposed that the
printed catalogues of the respective libraries would
give their titles in such a way as to designate the con-
tents of the works listed, but this is not always the
case. The plan adopted by me was to have any book
or manuscript, and all periodicals and journals of soci-
eties, likely to contain desired information, carefully
examined, the leaves turned over one by one, and notes
made of needed material. By this means I could at
once learn where the material was, what it was, and
turn to the book and page.

From London I went to Paris, and searched the
stalls, antiquarian warehouses, and catalogues, in the
same careful manner. I found much material in no
other way obtainable, but it was small in comparison
with what I had secured in London. Dibdin speaks
of a house in Paris, the Debures, bibliopolists, dealers
in rare books, who would never print a catalogue.
It was not altogether folly that prompted the policy,
for obvious reasons. Leaving Paris the 3d of January,
1867, I went down into Spain full of sanguine antici-
pations. There I expected to find much relating to
Mexico at the stalls for old books, but soon learned
that everything of value found its way to London. It
has been said that in London any article of any descrip-
tion will bring a price nearer its true value than any-
where else in the world. This I know to be true of
books. I have in my library little old worthless-
looking volumes that cost me two or three hundred

SPANISH BOOKSELLERS. 183

dollars each in London, which if offered at auction in
San Francisco would sell for twenty-five or fifty cents,
unless some intelligent persons who understood
books happened to be present, in which case competi-
tion might raise the sum to fiYe dollars. On the
other hand, that which cost a half dollar in London
might sell for ^ve dollars in San Francisco.

There were not three men in California, I venture
to say, who at that time knew anything either of the
intrinsic or marketable value of old books. Book-
sellers knew the least. I certainly have had expe-
rience both as dealer and as collector, but I profess to
know little about the value of ancient works, other
than those which I have had occasion to buy. Let
me pick up a volume of the Latin classics, for exam-
ple, or of Dutch voyages, and ask the price. If the
book were as large as I could lift, and the shopman
told me half a crown, I should think it much material
for the money, but I should not question the integrity
of the shopman; if the book were small enough for
the vest pocket, and the seller charged me twenty
pounds for it, I should think it right, and that there
must be real value about it in some way, otherwise
the man would not ask so much. There may be six
or eight dealers in New York, Boston, and Phila-
delphia, who know something of the value of ancient
books ; but aside from these, among the trade through-
out America, I doubt if there are three. A collector,
devoting himself to a specialty, may learn something
by experience, by looking over his bills and paying
them, regarding the value of books in the direction
of his collecting, but that must be a small part of
the whole range of the science of bibliography.

I thought the London shopkeepers were apathetic
enough, but they are sprightly in comparison with the
Spanish booksellers. To the average Spanish book-
seller Paris and London are places bordering the
mythical; if he really believes them to exist, they are
mapped in his mind with the most vague indistinct-

184 FROM BIBLIOPOLIST TO BIBLIOPHILE.

ness. As to a knowledge of books and booksellers'
shops in those places, there are but few pretensions.

Opening on the main plaza of Burgos, which was
filled with some of the most miserable specimens
of muffled humanity I ever encountered — cutthroat,
villainous-looking men and women in robes of sewed
rags — were two small shops, in which not only books
and newspapers were sold, but traps and trinkets of
various kinds. There I found a few pamphlets which
spoke of Mexico. Passing through a Californian-
looking country we entered Madrid, the town of
tobacco and bull-fights. If book-selling houses are
significant of the intelligence of the people — and we
in California, who boast the finest establishments of
the kind in the world according to our population,
claim that they are — then culture in Spain is at a
low ebb.

The first three days in Madrid I spent in collecting
and studying catalogues. Of these I found but few,
and they were all similar, containing about the same
class of works. Then I searched the stalls and stores,
and gathered more than at one time I thought I
should be able to, sufficient to fill two large boxes;
but to accomplish this I was obliged to work dili-
gently for two weeks.

To Saragossa, Barcelona, Marseilles, Nice, Genoa,
Bologna, Florence, and Home; then to Naples, back
to Venice, and through Switzerland to Paris. After
resting a while I went to Holland, then up the Rhine
and through Germany to Vienna; then through Ger-
many and Switzerland again, Paris and London, and
finally back to New York and Buffalo. Everywhere
I found something, and seized upon it, however in-
significant, for I had long since ceased to resist the
malady. Often have I taken a cab or a carriage to
drive me from stall to stall all day, without obtaining
more than perhaps three or four books or pamphlets,
for which I paid a shilling or a franc each. Then
again I would light upon a valuable manuscript which

MEXICAN BOOKS. 185

relieved my pocket to the extent of three, five, or
eight hundred dollars.

Now, I thought, my task is done. I have rifled
America of its treasures; Europe have I ransacked;
and after my success in Spain, Asia and Africa may
as well be passed by. I have ten thousand volumes
and over, fifty times more than ever I dreamed were
in existence when the collecting began. My library
is Si fait accompli. Finis coronat opus. Here will I
rest.

But softly ! What is this inch-thick pamphlet that
comes to me by mail from my agent in London? By
the shade of Tom Dibdin it is a catalogue ! Stripping
off the cover I read the title-page: Catalogue de la
Riche Bihliotheque de D. Jose Maria Andrade. Livres
manuscrits et imprimes. Litterature Fra^ngaise et
Espagnole. Histoire de LAfrique, de LAsie, et de
FAmerique. 7000 pieces et volumes ay ant rapport au
Mexique ou imprimes dans ce pays. Dont la vente se
fera Fundi 18 Janvier 1869 et jours suivants, a Feip-
zig, dans la salle de ventes de MM. Fist & Francke, 15
rue de F Universite, par le minister e de M. Hermann
Francke, commissaire priseur.

Seven thousand books direct from Mexico, and
probably half of them works which should be added
to my collection! What was to be done? Here were
treasures beside which the gold, silver, and rich mer-
chandise found by Ali Baba in the robbers' cave were
dross. A new light broke in upon me. I had never
considered that Mexico had been printing books for
three and a quarter centuries — one hundred years
longer tlian Massachusetts — and that the earlier
works were seldom seen floating about book-stalls and
auction-rooms. One would think, perhaps, that in
Mexico there might be a rich harvest; that where
the people were ignorant and indifferent to learning,
books would be lightly esteemed, and a large collection
easily made. And such at times and to some extent

186 FROM BIBLIOPOLIST TO BIBLIOPHILE.

has been the fact, but it is not so now. It is charac-
teristic of the Mexican, to say nothing of the Yankee,
that an article which may be deemed worthless until
one tries to buy it, suddenly assumes great value.
The common people, seeing the priests and collectors
place so high an estimate on these embodiments of
knowledge, invest them with a sort of supernatural
importance, place them among their lares and penates,
and refuse to part with them at any price. Besides,
Mexico as well as other countries has been overrun
by book collectors. In making this collection Senor
Andrade had occupied forty years; and being upon
the spot, with every facility, ample means at his
command, a thorough knowledge of the literature of
the country, and familiarity with the places in which
books and manuscripts were most likely to be found,
he surely should have been able to accomplish what
no other man could.

And then again, rare books are every year becoming
rarer. In England particularly this is the case. Im-
portant sales are not so frequent now as fifty years
ago, when a gentleman's library, which at his death
was sold at auction for the benefit of heirs, almost
always offered opportunities for securing some rare
books. Then, at the death of one, another would add
to his collection, and at his death another, and so
on. During the past half century many new public
libraries have been formed both in Europe and Amer-
ica, until the number has become very large. These,
as a rule, are deficient in rare books; but having with
age and experience accumulated funds and the knowl-
edge of using them, or having secured all desirable
current literature, the managers of public libraries
are more and more desirous of enriching their collec-
tions with the treasures of the past; and as institu-
tions seldom or never die, when once a book finds
lodgment on their shelves the auctioneer rarely sees
it again. Scores of libraries in America have their
agents, with lists of needed books in their hands,

THE ANDRADE COLLECTION. 187

ready to pay any price for any one of them. Since
there is but a limited number of these books in ex-
istence, with a dozen bidders for every one, they are
becoming scarcer and dearer every year.

There were no fixed prices for rare and ancient
books in Mexico, and they were seldom or never to
be obtained in the ordinary way of trade. Until
recently, to make out a list of books and expect a
bookseller of that country to procure them for you
was absurd, and you would be doomed to disappoint-
ment. It was scarcely to be expected that he should
be so much in advance of his bookselling brother of
Spain, who would scarcely leave his seat to serve you
with a book from his own shelves, still less to seek it
elsewhere.

Book collecting in Mexico during the midst of my
efforts was a trade tomhe des mies, the two parties to
the business being, usually, one a professional person,
representing the guardianship of learning, but so
carnal-minded as to require a little money to satisfy
his cravings, and the other the recipient of the favors,
who cancelled them with money. The latter, ascer-
taining the whereabouts of the desired volume, bar-
gained with a politician, an ecclesiastic, or a go-between,
and having agreed on the price, the place and hour
were named — which must be either a retired spot or
an hour in which the sun did not shine — whereupon
the book was produced and the money paid; but there
must be no further conversation regarding the matter.
Should the monastic libraries occasionally be found
deficient in volumes once in their possession, owing
to the absence of catalogues and responsible librarians
it is difficult to fasten upon the guardian the charge
that such books and manuscripts had ever been in his
possession.

Jose Maria Andrade combined in himself the pub-
lisher, journalist, litterateur, bibliopole, and biblio-
phile; and the tenacity with which he clung to his
collection was remarkable. Nor was he induced to

188 FROM BIBLIOPOLIST TO BIBLIOPHILE.

part with it except for the consummation of a grand
purpose. It was ever the earnest desire of the unfor-
tunate MaximiHan to advance the interests of the
country in every way in his power; and prominent
among his many praiseworthy designs was that of im-
proving the mental condition of the people by the
elevation of literature. Scarcely had he established
himself in the government when he began the forma-
tion of an imperial library. This could be accom-
plished in no other way so fully or so easily as by
enlisting the cooperation of Senor Andrade, while on
the other hand the intelligent and zealous collector
could in no other way reap a reward commensurate
with his long and diligent researches. It was there-
fore arranged that, in consideration for a certain sum
of money to be paid the owner of the books, this
mamificent collection should form the basis of a
Bihlioteca Imperial de Mejico. By this admirable and
only proper course the fullest collection of books on
Mexico, together with valuable additions from the
literature of other countries, would remain in the
country and become the property of the government.
But unfortunately for Mexico this was not to be.
These books were to be scattered among the libraries
of the world, and the rare opportunity was forever
lost. Evil befell both emperor and bibliophile. The
former met the fate of many another adventurer of
less noble birth and less chivalrous and pure inten-
tion, and the latter failed to secure his money.

When it became certain that Maximilian was
doomed to die at the hands of his captors, Senor
Andrade determined to secure to himself the pro-
ceeds from the sale of his library as best he might.
Nor was there any time to lose. Imperialism in
Mexico was on the decline, and the friends of the
emperor could scarcely hope to see their contracts
ratified by his successor. Consequently, while all eyes
were turned in the direction of Queretaro, immedi-
ately after the enactment of the bloody tragedy, and

THE LEIPSIC SALE. 189

before the return wave of popular fury and vandalism
had reached the city of Mexico, Senor Andrade has-
tily packed his books into two hundred cases, placed
them on the backs of mules, and hurried them to
Vera Cruz, and thence across the water to Europe.

Better for Mexico had the bibliophile taken with
him one of her chief cities than that mule-train load
of literature, wherein for her were stores of mighty
experiences, which, left to their own engendering,
would in due time bring forth healing fruits. Never
since the burning of the Aztec manuscripts by the
bigot Zumd-rraga had there fallen on the country such
a loss. How comparatively little of human experi-
ence has been written, and yet how much of that
which has been written is lost! How many books
have been scattered; how many libraries burned : how
few of the writings of the ancients have we. Of the
hundred plays said to have been written by Sophocles,
only seven are preserved.

M. Deschamps says of Senor Andrade's collection:
"The portion of this library relating to Mexico is in-
contestably unique, and constitutes a collection which
neither the most enlightened care, the most patient
investigation, nor the gold of the richest placers could
reproduce. The incunabula of American typography,
six Gothic volumes head the list, printed from 1543
to 1547, several of which have remained wholly un-
known to bibliographers; then follows a collection of
documents, printed and in manuscript, by the help
of which the impartial writer may reestablish on its
true basis the history of the firm domination held by
Spain over these immense territories, from the time
of Cortes to the glorious epoch of the wars of Inde-
pendence. The manuscripts are in part original and
in part copies of valuable documents made with great
care from the papers preserved in the archives of the
empire at Mexico. It is well known that access to
these archives is invariably refused to the public, and
that it required the sovereign intervention of an en-

190 FROM BIBLIOPOLIST TO BIBLIOPHILE.

lightened prince to render possible the long labors of
transcription."

Such is the history of the collection of which I
now received a catalogue, with notice of sale beginning
the 18th of January, 1869. Again I asked myself,
What was to be done? Little penetration was neces-
sary to see that this sale at Leipsic was most im-
portant; that such an opportunity to secure Mexican
books never had occurred before and could never
occur again. It was not among the possibilities that
Seiior Andrade's catalogue should ever be duplicated.
The time was too short for me, after receiving the
catalogue, to reach Leipsic in person previous to the
sale. The great satisfaction was denied me to make
out a list of requirements with my own catalogue
and the catalogue of Andrade before me. Yet I was
determined not to let the opportunity slip without
securing something, no matter at what hazard or at
what sacrifice.

Shutting my eyes to the consequences, therefore,
I did the only thing possible under the circumstances
to secure a portion of that collection: I telegraphed
my agent in London five thousand dollars earnest
money, with instructions to attend the sale and pur-
chase at his discretion. I expected nothing less than
large lots of duplicates, with many books which I did
not care for; but in this I was agreeably disappointed.
Though my agent, Mr Whitaker, was not very familiar
with the contents of my library, he was a practical
man, and thoroughly versed in the nature and value
of books, and the result of his purchase was to increase
my collection with some three thousand of the rarest
and most valuable volumes extant.

There were in this purchase some works that gave
me duplicates, and some books bought only for their
rarity, such as specimens of the earliest printing in
Mexico, and certain costly linguistic books. But on
the whole I was more than pleased; I was delighted.
A sum five times larger than the cost of the books

NOTABLE SALES. 191

would not have taken them from me after they were
once in my possession, from the simple fact that though
I should live a hundred years I would not see the time
when I could buy any considerable part of them at
any price. And furthermore, no sooner had I begun
authorship than experience taught me that the works
thus collected and sold by Senor Andrade included
foreign books of the highest importance. There
were among them many books and manuscripts inval-
uable for a working library. It seemed after all as
though Mr Whitaker had instinctively secured what
was most wanted, allowing very few of the four thou-
sand four hundred and eighty-four numbers of the
catalogue to slip through his fingers that I would have
purchased if present in person.

But this was not the last of the Andrade-Maxi-
milian episode. Another lot, not so large as the
Leipsic catalogue, but enough to constitute a very
important sale, was disposed of by auction in London,
by Puttick and Simpson, in June of the same year.
The printed list was entitled : Blhliotheca Mejicana.
A Catalogue of an extraordinary collection of hooks
relating to Mexico and North and South America, from
the first introduction of printing in the New World ,
A. D. 15M, to A. D. 1868. Collected during 20 years'
official residence in Mexico. Mr Whitaker likewise
attended this sale for me, and from his purchases I
was enabled still further to fill gaps and perfect the
collection.

Prior to these large purchases, namely in Decem-
ber, 1868, Mr Whitaker made some fine selections
for me at a public sale in Paris. This same year was
sold in New York the library of A. A. Smet, and
the year previous had been sold that of Pichard W.
Roche. The library of George W. Pratt was sold
in New York in March, 1868 ; that of Amos Dean, at
private sale, in New York the same year; that of W.
L. Mattison in New York in April, 1869 ; that of John
A. Rice in New York in March, 1870; that of S. G.

192 FROM BIBLIOPOLIST TO BIBLIOPHILE.

Drake in Boston in May and June, 1876; that of
John W. Dwinelle in San Francisco in July, 1877;
that of George T. Strong in New York in November,
1878; that of Milton S. Latham in San Francisco in
April, 1879; that of Gideon N. Searing in New York
in May, 1880; that of H. R. Schoolcraft in New York
in November, 1880; that of A. Oakey Hall in New
York in January, 1881; that of J. L. Hasmar in
Philadelphia in March, 1881 ; that of George Brinley
in New York, different dates; that of W. B. Law-
rence in New York in 1881-2; that of the Sunderland
Library, first part, in London in 1881; that of W. C.
Prescott in New York in December, 1881; and that
of J. G. Keil in Leipsic in 1882; — from each of which
I secured something. Besides those elsewhere enu-
merated there were to me memorable sales in Lisbon,
New York, and London, in 1870; in London and New
York in 1872; in Paris, Leipsic, and New York, in
1873, and in New York in 1877. The several sales
in London of Henry G. Bohn, retiring from business,
were important.

The government officials in Washington and the
officers of the Smithsonian Institution have always
been very kind and liberal to me, as have the Pacific
coast representatives in congress. From members of
the Canadian cabinet and parliament I have received
valuable additions to my library. From the many
shops of Nassau street. New York, and from several
stores and auction sales in Boston, I have been receiv-
ing constant additions to my collection for a period of
over a quarter of a century.

From the Librairie Tross of Paris in April, 1870,
I obtained a long list of books, selected from a cata-
logue. So at various times I have received accessions
from Maisonneuve et C^^, Paris, notably quite a ship-
ment in September, 1878. From Triibner, Quaritch,
Powell, and others, in London, the stream was con-
stant, though not large, for many years. Asher of
Berlin managed to offer at various times valuable cata-

THE SQUUB^R COLLECTION. 193

logues, as did also John Russell Smith of London;
F. A. Brockhaus of Leipsic; Murguia of Mexico,
and Madrilena of Mexico; Muller of Amsterdam;
Weigel of Leipsic ; Robert Clarke & Co. of Cincinnati ;
Scheible of Stuttgart ; Bouton of New York ; Henry
Miller of New York, and Olivier of Bruxelles. Henry
Stevens of London sold in Boston, through Leonard,
by auction in April, 1870, a collection of five thousand
volumes of American history, which he catalogued
under the title of Bihliotheca Historica, at which time
he claimed to have fifteen thousand similar volumes
stored at 4 Trafalgar square.

In April, 1876, was sold by auction in New York
the collection of Mr E. G. Squier, relating in a great
measure to Central America, where the collector,
when quite young, was for a time United States
minister. Being a man of letters, the author of sev-
eral books, and many essaj^s and articles on ethnology,
history, and politics, and a member of home and
foreign learned societies, Mr Squier was enabled by
his position to gratify his tastes to their full extent,
and he availed himself of the opportunities. His
library was rich in manuscripts, in printed and manu-
script maps, and in Central American newspapers, and
political and historical pamphlets. There were some
fine original drawings by Catherwood of ruins and
monolith idols, and some desirable engravings and
photographs. Books from the library of Alexander
Von Humboldt were a feature, and there was a
section on Scandinavian literature. In regard to
his manuscripts, which he intended to translate and
print, the publication of Palacio, Cartas, being the
beginning, Mr Squier said : ''A large part of
these were obtained from the various Spanish ar-
chives and depositories by my friend Buckingham
Smith, late secretary of the legation of the United
States in Spain. Others were procured during my
residence in Central America either in person or
through the intervention of friends." I gladly availed

Lit. Ind. 13

194 FROM BIBLIOPOLIST TO BIBLIOPHILE.

myself of the opportunity to purchase at this sale
whatever the collection contained and ray library
lacked. Of Mr Squier's library Mr Sabin testified:
"In the department relative to Central America the
collection is not surpassed by any other within our
knowledge; many of these books being published in
Central America, and having rarely left the land of
their birth, are of great value, and are almost unknown
outside the localities from which they were issued."

The next most important opportunity was the sale,
by auction, of the library of Caleb Cushing in Boston,
in October, 1879. This sale was attended for me by Mr
Lauriat, and the result was in every way satisfactory.

Quite a remarkable sale was that of the library of
Ramirez, by auction, in London in July 1880, not so
much in regard to numbers, for there were but 1290, as
in variety and prices. The title of the catalogue reads
as follows : Bihliotlieca Mexicana. A catalogue of the
Library of rare hooks and important manuscripts, re-
lating to Mexico and other loarts of Spanish America,
formed hy the late Senor Don Jose Fernando Ramirez,
j)resident of the late Emperor Maximilian s first min-
istry, comprising fine specimens of the presses of the
early Mexican typographers Juan Cromberger, Juan
Pablos, Antonio Espinosa, Pedro Ocharte, Pedro Balli,
Antonio Ricardo, Melchior Ocharte; a large number of
tuorks, both printed and manuscript, on the Mexican
Indian languages and dialects; the civil and ecclesi-
astical history of Mexico and its provinces; collections
of laivs and ordinances relating to the Indies. Valuable
unpublished manuscripts relating to the Jesuit missions
in Texas, California, China, Peru, Chili, Brasil, etc.;
collections of documents; sermons preached in Mexico;
etc., etc. Ramirez was a native of the city of Du-
rango, where he had been educated and admitted to
the bar, rising to eminence as state and federal judge.
He was at one time head of the national museum of
Mexico; also minister of foreign affairs, and again
president of Maximilian's first ministry. Upon the

THE RAMIREZ SALE. 195

retirement of the French expedition from Mexico
Senor Ramirez went to Europe and took up his resi-
dence at Bonn, where he died in 1871. The books
comprising the sale formed the second collection made
by this learned bibliographer, the first having been
sold to become the foundation of a state library in the
city of Durango. The rarest works of the first col-
lection were reserved, however, to form the nucleus of
the second, which was formed after he removed to the
capital; his high public position, his reputation as
scholar and bibliographer, and his widely extended
influence affording him the best facilities. Many of
his literary treasures were obtained from the convents
after the suppression of the monastic orders. From
the collection, as it stood at the death of Ramirez,
his heirs permitted A. Chavero to select all works
relating to Mexico. ^^We believe we do not exag-
gerate," the sellers affirmed, '^when we say that no
similar collection of books can again be brought into
the English market." Writing me in 1869 regard-
ing the Paris and London sales of that year, Mr
Whitaker says: *'If I may argue from analogy, I do
not think that many more Mexican books will come
to Europe for sale. I remember some twenty-five
years ago a similar series of sales of Spanish books
which came over here in consequence of the revolu-
tion, but for many years there have been none to
speak of" Thus we find the same idea expressed by
an expert eleven years before the Ramirez sale. In
one sense both opinions proved true; the collections
were different in character, and neither of them could
be even approximately duplicated. With regard to
prices at the respective sales of 1869 Mr Whitaker
remarks: ''Some of the books sold rather low con-
sidering their rarity and value, but on the whole prices
ruled exceedingly high." Had Mr Whitaker attended
the Ramirez sale he would have been simply astounded.
If ever the prices of Mexican books sold prior to
this memorable year of 1880 could in comparison be

196 FROM BIBLIOPOLIST TO BIBLIOPHILE.

I

called high, such sales have been wholly outside of my
knowledge. I had before paid hundreds of dollars
for a thin 1 2mo volume ; but a bill wherein page after
page the items run from $50 to $700 is apt to call
into question the general sanity of mankind. And yet
this was at public sale, in the chief book mart of the
world, and it is to be supposed that the volumes were
sold with fairness.

Notice of this sale, with catalogue, was forwarded to
me by Mr Stevens, who attended it in my behalf I
made out my list and sent it on with general instruc-
tions, but without special limit; I did not suppose the
whole lot would amount to over $10,000 or $12,000.
The numbers I ordered brought nearer $30,000. Mr
Stevens did not purchase them all, preferring to forego
his commissions rather than subject me to such fear-
fully high prices. My chief consolation in drawing a
check for the purchase was that if books were worth
the prices brought at the Kamirez sale my library
would foot up a million of dollars. And yet Mr Stevens
writes : " On the whole you have secured your lots very
reasonably. A few are dear; most of them are cheap.
The seven or eight lots that you put in your third
class, and which Mr Quaritch or Count Heredia
bought over my bids, you may rest assured went
dear enough." There were scarcely any purchasers
other than the three bidders above named, though
Mr Stevens held orders likewise for the British Mu-
seum library. There was no calling oiF or hammering
by the auctioneer. The bidders sat at a table on which
was placed the book to be sold; each made his bids
and the seller recorded the highest.

Keferring once more to Mr Walden and his work,
Mr Whitaker writes in April, 1869: "The delay in
sending off all the Andrade books arose from the
desire to have them catalogued. Mr Walden has been
terribly slow over the work, but it was difficult to stop.
He has now finished all that I bought first, and I told

THE RESULT IN 1869. 197

him that he is altogether to suspend operations upon
your account after Saturday, May 1st, to which date I
have paid him. It appears to me that you will now
have enough materials in the books you have bought
and the sale catalogues, etc., to enable you to get all
the information you require. Walden sees his way to
seven years' more work." And from Mr Walden him-
self a month later: ''It has afforded me great pleas-
ure to hear at different times from Mr Whitaker that
you are satisfied with the slips received, and the
manner in which I have catalogued the books. In
following out your instructions much time must evi-
dently be taken up in searching for works on the
various subjects, and the time and money thus spent
will assuredly repay itself in having such a list of
books on the various subjects required, and on that
part of America; it will not have its equal in any
catalogue yet made. I have not yet catalogued the
whole of the manuscripts relating to your subjects in
the British Museum."

Thus it was that in 1 869, ten years after beginning to
collect, after the Maximilian sale, but before those of
Ramirez, Squier, and many others, I found in my pos-
session, including pamphlets, about sixteen thousand
volumes; and with these, which even before its com-
pletion I placed on the fifth floor of the Market-street
building, I concluded to begin work. As a collector,
however, I continued lying in w^ait for opportunities.
All the new books published relative to the subject
were immediately added to the collection, with oc-
casional single copies, or little lots of old books secured
by my agents. Before leaving Europe I appointed
agents in other principal cities besides London to
purchase, as opportunity offered, whatever I lacked.
There were many other notable additions to the
library from sources not yet mentioned, of which I
shall take occasion to speak during the progress of
this history of my work.

CHAPTER VIII.

THE LIBRARY.

Could a man be secure

That his days would endure

As of old, for a thousand long years,

What things might he know!

What deeds might he do !

And all without hurry or care.

Old Song.

If as Plato says knowledge is goodness, and good-
ness God, then libraries occupy holy ground, and
books breathe the atmosphere of heaven. Although
this philosophy may be too transcendental for the
present day, and although the agency of evil some-
times appears in the accumulation of knowledge as
well as the agency of good, thus making scholars not
always heirs of God, we have yet to learn of a collec-
tion of books having been made for purposes of evil,
or the results of such efforts ever having been other-
wise than beneficial to the race. Particularly is such
the case where the main incentive has been the accu-
mulation of facts for the mere love of such accumu-
lation, and not from devotion to dogma, or for the
purpose of pleading a cause — for something of the
instinct of accumulation inherent in humanity may
be found in the garnering of knowledge, no less than
in the gathering of gold or the acquisition of broad
acres.

My library, when first it came to be called a
library, occupied one corner of the second story of
the bookstore building on Merchant street, which con-
nected with the front room on Montgomery street, as

IN THE MARKET STREET BUILDING. 199

before described. When placed on the fifth floor of the
Market-street building, it occupied room equivalent to
thirty-five by one hundred and seventy feet, being about
fifty feet wide at the south end, and narrowing irregu-
larly towards the north end. The ceiling was low, and
the view broken by the enclosures under the skylights,
and by sections of standing supports with which it
was found necessary to supplement the half mile and
more of shelving against the walls. Following the
works of reference, the books were arranged alpha-
betically by authors, some seventy-five feet at the
north end, both walls and floor room, being left for
newspapers. On the east side were four rooms, two
occupied as sleeping apartments by Mr Oak and Mr
Nemos, and two used as w^orking rooms by Mrs
Victor and myself There was one large draughtsman's
working-counter, with drawers, and a rack for maps.
The desks and writing tables stood principally at the
south end of the main library room, that being the
best locality for light and air. A large, high, revolv-
ing table occupied the centre of my room. Attached
to it was a stationary stand into which it fitted, or
rather of w^hich it formed part. At this table I could
stand, or by means of a high chair with revolving
seat I could sit at it, and write on the stationary part.
The circular or revolving portion of the table was
some eight or nine feet in diameter. Besides this
machine there were usually two or three common
plain tables in the room. On the walls were maps,
and drawings of various kinds, chiefly referring to
early history; also certificates of degrees conferred, >
and of membership of learned societies.

In the main room, in addition to the long tables
shown in the drawinof, there were a dozen or so*
small movable tables, and also a high table and a high
desk, the two accommodating four or five persons,
should any wish to stand. All was well arranged,
not only for literary but for mechanical work, for
close at hand were compositors, printers, and binders.

200 THE LIBRARY.

No place could better have suited my purpose but
for interruptions, for I was never entirely free from
business.

Yet, all through the dozen years the library was
there I trembled for its safety through fear of iire, as
indeed did many others who appreciated its historical
significance to this coast, well knowing that once lost
no power on earth could reproduce it. Hence its place
in this building was regarded as temporary from the
first. We all thought constantly of it, and a hundred
times I have talked over the matter of removal with
Mr Oak and others. Now and then the danger would
be more vividly brought home to us by the alarm of
fire on the premises; and once in particular a fire
broke out in the basement of the furniture store occu-
pying the western side of the building, filling the
library with dense smoke, and driving the inmates to
the roof It occurred about half-past five in the after-
noon. The furniture store was nearly destroyed, and
the bookstore suffered serious damage. It was a nar-
row escape for the library.

Thus, when in the autumn of 1881 Mr William B.
Bancroft, my nephew, in charge of the manufacturing
department, regarded the room as essential to his ever
growing purposes, and as the money could be spared,
I lent a willing ear.

First to be considered in choosing a new locality
was whether the library should remain on the penin-
sula of San Francisco, or take its place at some point
across the bay. Oakland was seriously considered,
and San Bafael, not to mention Sonoma, where long
before my enthusiastic friend General Vallejo had
offered to furnish land and all the building require-
ments free. There were pleasant places in the direc-
tion of San Mateo and Menlo Park; but we finally
concluded to remain in the city. Before ever it saw
Market street I had dreamed of having the library
near my house on California street; but that was not
to be. I had deemed it advisable some time before

LIBRARY SITE SELECTED. 201

to sell my residence property in that locality, so that
it was now necessary to select another spot. In
making such selection I could not take as fully into
the account as I would have hked the influence
of a library upon its locality. For example, who
shall say what might or might not be the effects upon
the graduating members of a great institution of learn-
ing, or upon the assembled law-makers for the nation,
or upon that class of wealthy and intelligent inhabi-
tants of the commercial metropolis who delight in
scientific or historic association for the good of their
country ? We cannot set up in our midst a theatre,
hotel, race-course, church, or drinking-saloon without
the whole community being affected thereby. A
library is not merely a depository of learning, but a
society for the promotion of knowledge in whatsoever
direction its contents tends. If it be a library of law,
medicine, or theology, the corresponding profession is
affected by it in a degree greater than we realize; if
it be a library of history, then sooner or later its in-
fluence is felt in the direction of historical investiga-
tion and elucidation. The very fact of its existence
presupposes somewhere a demand for its existence,
and this not without cause or reason — the cause or
reason being its use for the purposes for which it was
created ; that is to say, for the protection and promul-
gation of historical data. The effect of an abundance
of rich historical data on a local historical society is
much greater than the effect of the society on the
collecting of data. With the data at hand, members
will set themselves at work; while if it be absent
they will not seek it.

After some search a place was found uniting several
advantages, and which on the whole proved satisfac-
torv. It was on Valencia street, the natural continua-
tion of Market street, on the line of the city's growth,
and reached by the cars from the ferry which passed
the store. There, on the west side, near its junction
with Mission street, I purchased a lot one hundred and

202 THE LIBRARY.

twenty by one hundred and twenty-six feet in size,
and proceeded forthwith to erect a substantial two
story and basement brick building, forty by sixty feet.
In order that the building might be always detached
it was placed in the centre of the lot, and to make it
more secure from fire all the openings were covered
with iron. A high fence was erected on two sides
for protection against the wind, and the grounds were
filled with trees, grass, and flowers, making the place
a little Eden. On the glass over the entrance was
placed the number, 1538, and on the door a plate
lettered in plain script. The Bancroft Library.

The building proved most satisfactory. No attempt
was made at elaboration, either without or within;
plain neat good taste, with comfort and convenience,
was alone aimed at. Every part of it was ordered
with an eye single to the purpose; the rooms are
spacious, there are plenty of large windows, and the
building is well ventilated. From the front door the
main room, lower floor, is entered, which, though
almost without a break in its original construction,
became at once so crowded as to render its proper
representation in a drawing impossible. Ample space,
as was supposed, had been allowed in planning the
building, but such a collection of books is susceptible
of being expanded or contracted to a wonderful extent.
On the wall shelves of this apartment are placed for
the most part sets and various collections aggre-
gating 16,000 volumes. These sets are conveniently
lettered and numbered, in a manner that renders each
work readily accessible, as will be described in detail
elsewhere. They consist of large collections of voy-
ages and travels ; of documents, periodicals, legislative
and other public papers of the federal government
and the several states and territories of the Pacific
slope; of laws, briefs, and legal reports; series of
scrap-books, almanacs, directories, bound collections
of pamphlets, cumbersome folios, Mexican sermons,
2Kipeles varioSy and other miscellaneous matter. Three

VALENCIA STREET BUILDING. 203

lofty double tiers of shelving, extending across the
room from north to south, are loaded with 500 bulky
files of Pacific States newspapers, amounting, if a
year of weeklies and three months of dailies be ac-
counted a volume, to over 5000 volumes. It is a
somewhat unwieldy mass, but indispensable to the
local historian. Also was built and placed here a huge
case, with drawers for maps, geographically arranged ;
also cases containing the card index, and paper bags of
notes, all of which are explained elsewhere.

To the room above, the main library and working-
room, the entrance is by a staircase rising from the
middle of the first floor. Here, seated at tables,
are a dozen literary workmen, each busy with his
special task. The walls are filled with shelving nine
tiers high, containing four classes of books. Most of
the space is occupied by works of the first class, the
working library proper of printed books, alphabeti-
cally arranged, each volume bearing a number, and
the numbers running consecutively from one to 12,000
under alphabetical arrangement, and afterward with-
out arrangement, as additions are made indefinitely.
The second class consists of rare books, of about 400
volumes, set apart by reason of their great value, not
merely pecuniary, though the volumes will bring from
$35 to $800 each in the book markets of the world,
but literary value, representing standard authorities,
bibliographic curiosities, specimens of early printing,
and rare hnguistics. The third class is composed en-
tirely of manuscripts, in 1200 volumes of three sub-
divisions, relating respectively to Mexico and Central
America, to California, and to the Northwest Coast — ■
the Oregon and interior territory, British Columbia,
and Alaska. The fourth class is made up of 450
works of reference and bibliographies. When the
collection was placed in the library building it num-
bered 35,000 volumes, since which time additions have
steadily been made, until the number now approaches
50,000. At the east end of the upper room is situated

/

204 THE LIBRARY.

my private apartment, while at the other end are the
rooms of Mrs Victor, Mr Nemos, and Mr Oak. All
otherwise unoccupied wall space, above and below, is
filled with portraits, plans, and other drawings, en-
gravings, and unique specimens, all having reference
to the territory covered by the collection.

Considerable inconvenience had been experienced
during the first twelve years' use of the library, for
want of proper numbering and cataloguing. Mr Oak
had made a card catalogue which about the time of
removal to Market street was copied in book form;
but though the former was kept complete, the latter
was soon out of date owing to the rapid increase of
the books. For a time an alphabetical arrangement
answered every purpose, but under this system books
were so often out of place, and losses so frequent, that
it was deemed best on removing to Valencia street to
adopt a book-mark, a system of numbering, and make
a new catalogue. The book-mark consisted of a litho-
graphed line in plain script letters. The Bancroft
Library, with the number. Preparatory to number-
ing, the several classes before mentioned were sepa-
rated from the general collection, the whole weeded
of duplicates, and every book and pamphlet put in
place under the old alphabetical arrangement. The
main working collection was then numbered from one
to 12,000 consecutively. This prohibited further
alphabetical arrangement, and thereafter all volumes
that came in were added at the end without regard to
any arrangement, and were covered by new numbers.
In regard to the other several classes, letters were
employed in the numbering to distinguish one from
the other. The first catalogue was written on narrow-
ruled paper, six by nine inches when folded, and then
bound ; the second was written on thick paper, fourteen
by eighteen inches when folded, and ruled for the
purpose with columns, and with subsidiary lines for
numbers and description. This catalogue indicates

GENERAL CATALOGUE. 205

the shelf position of every book in the library; and
the plan admits of additions almost limitless without
breaking the alphabetic order. In copying it from
the original cards Mr Benson was engaged for over
a year. When completed it was strongly bound in
thick boards and leather.

No one can know, not having had the experience, the
endless labor and detail attending the keeping in order
and under control of a large and rapidly growing col-
lection of historical data. Take newspapers, for ex-
ample. The newspaper is the first and often the only
printed matter pertaining directly to the local affairs
sometimes of a wide area. As such its historical
importance is obvious. It is the only printed record
of the history of the section it covers. No collection
of early historic data can be deemed in any degree
complete without liberal files of the daily and weekly
journals. But when these files of periodicals reach
the number of five hundred, as before mentioned, equiv-
alent in bulk and information to five thousand vol-
umes of books, with large daily additions, it becomes
puzzling sometimes to know what to do with them,
for these too must be indexed and put away in their
proper place before the knowledge they contain can
be reached or utilized. The course we pursued was
first of all after collocation to enter them by their
names, and arranged territorially, in a ten-quire demy
record book, writing down the numbers actually in
the library, chronologically, with blank spaces left for
missing numbers, to be filled in as those numbers
were obtained and put in their places. But before
putting away in their proper places either the files or
the incoming additional numbers, all were indexed,
after the manner of indexing the books of the library,
and desired information extracted therefrom in the
usual way.

In describing the contents of the library, aside
from its arrangement in the building, one would
classify it somewhat differently, territory and chro-

206 THE LIBRARY.

nology taking precedence of outward form and con-
venience, more as I have done in another place. Any
allusion in this volume must be necessarily very brief;
any approach to bibliographical analysis is here out
of the question. We can merely glance at the sev-
eral natural divisions of the subject, namely, abori-
ginal literature, sixteenth-century productions, works
of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, nine-
teenth-century publications, maps, manuscripts, and,
by way of a specialty, the material for California and
Northwest Coast history.

Passing the books of the savages, as displayed by
the scattered picture-writings of the wilder northern
tribes, which indeed have no place even in the cate-
gory first named, we come to the more enduring records
of the southern plateaux.

First there are the picture records of the Aztec
migrations, from Gemelli Carreri and the Boturini col-
lection, and representations of the education of Aztec
children, from the Codex Mendoza. Specimens of the
next aboriginal class, superior to the Aztec picture
writing, may be found in the sculptured hieroglyphics
covering the tablets of Palenque, and the statues of
Copan. Among the works of Lord Kingsborough and
of Brasseur de Bourbourg are volumes of free dis-
cussion, which leave the student at the end of his in-
vestigations exactly where he stood at the beginning.
Then there is the Maya alphabet of Bishop Landa,
and the specimens preserved in the Dresden codex,
which so raise intelligent curiosity as to make us wish
that the Spanish bigots had been burned instead of
the masses of priceless aboriginal manuscripts of which
they built their bonfires. In the national museum of
the university of Mexico were placed the remnants
of the aboriginal archives of Tezcuco; and we may
learn much from the w^ritings of some of their former
possessors, Ixtlilxochitl, Sigtienza, Boturini, Yeytia,
Ordaz, Leon y Gama, and Sanchez. Clavigero has
also used this material with profit in writing his history.

ABORIGINAL LITERATURE. 207

The calendar stone of the Aztecs, a representation of
which is given in the Native Races, may be examined
with interest; also the paintings of the Aztec cycle,
the Aztec year, and the Aztec month. Some remains
of Central American aboriginal literature are pre-
served in the manuscript Troano, reproduced in lithog-
raphy by the French government.

The sixteenth-century productions relating to Amer-
ica, taken as one class begin with the letters of Colum-
bus written during the last decade of the fifteenth
century. Of these there were printed two, and one
by a friend of the admiral, and the papal bull of Alex-
ander VI., in 1493, making four plaquettes printed
prior to 1500. Then came more papal bulls and more
letters, and narratives of voyages by many navigators ;
there were maps, and globes, and cosmographies, and
numerous ^mundus novus' books, conspicuous among
their writers being Vespucci, Peter Martyr, the au-
thors of Ptolemy sGeographia, and Enciso, who printed
in 1519 his Suma de Geografia. After these were
itinerarios and relaciones by Juan Diaz, Cortes, and
others. The doughty deeds of Pedrarias Ddvila were
sung in 1525, and not long afterward the writings of
the chronicler Oviedo began to appear in print. In
1532 appeared the De Insulis of Cortes and Martyr,
and in 1534 the Chronica of Amandus, and some letters
by Francisco Pizarro. Between 1540 and 1550 were
divers plaquettes, besides the Relaciones of Cabeza de
Vaca, the Conientarios of Pedro Hernandez, and the
Apologia of Sepulveda.

The chief works touching the Pacific States terri-
tory which appeared during the last half of the six-
teenth century were those of Las Casas, Gomara,
Benzoni, Monardes, Fernando Colon, Palacio, Acosta,
Perez, and Padilla. The many accounts of voyages
and collections of voyages, such as Ramusio, Huttich,
and Hakluyt, appearing during this period, and the
hundreds of ordenanzas, nuevas leyes, and cedulaSy

208 THE LIBRARY.

I cannot here enumerate. Nor is it necessary to men-
tion here the oft described earhest books printed in
America.

New chroniclers, historians, compilers of voyages,
cosmographers, and geographers came forward during
the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. Among
these were Ens, Philoponus, the author of West-
Indische Spieghel, Gottfried, D'Avity, Ogilby, Mon-
tanus, Garcia, Herrera, Torquemada, Villagra, Simon,
De Bry, Purchas, Bernal Diaz, Pizarro y Orellana,
De Laet, Gage, Soils, Cogolludo, Piedrahita, Vetan-
curt, and some English books on the Scots at Darien;
there were likewise innumerable sermons, and the
De Indiarum Ivre of Solorzano Pereira, the views of
Grotius, the Teatro Eclesidstico of Gil Gonzalez Davila,
and other kindred works. The mission chronicles were
a literary feature of the times, and toward the latter
part of the epoch come the English, French, and Dutch
voyages of circumnavigation.

The name of Humboldt stands prominent at the
beginning of nineteenth-century Pacific States liter-
ature; and near him the Mexican historian Busta-
mante. Then follow Escudero, Prescott, Irving,
Alaman, Carbajal Espinosa, Chevalier, Brantz Mayer,
Domenech, — among voyagers and collections of voy-
ages, Krusenstern, Langsdorff, Lisiansky, Kotzebue,
Roquefeuil, Beechy, Petit -Thouars, Laplace, Duhaut-
Cilly, Belcher, Simpson, and Wilkes, Burney, Pink-
erton, Bicharderie, La Harpe, smd Annates des Voyages.

Collections of original documents are a feature of
this century, conspicuous among which are those of
Navarrete, Ternaux-Compans, Buckingham Smith,
Icazbalceta, Calvo, Pacheco and Cdrdenas, and of
somewhat kindred character the works of Sahagun,
Veytia, Cavo, Tezozomoc, Scherzer, Brasseur de
Bourbourg, Palacio, Landa, Duran, Mota Padilla,
Mendieta, — and yet more relating to the aborigines,
the \vorks of Cabrera, Leon y Gama, Morton, Brad-

ORIGINAL DOCUMENTS. 209

ford, Catlin, Boscana, Holmberg, Muller, Baldwin,
Dupaix, Waldeck, Nebel, Catherwood, Charnay, Ade-
lung, Du Ponceau, Veniamino, Ludewig, Pimentel,
Orozco y Berra, Arenas, Amaro, Molina, Avila, and
many others. The century presents a lengthy list of
valuable books of travel, and physical and political
descriptions, such as the works of Lewis and Clarke,
James, Hunter, Cox, Stephens, Squier, Strangeways,
Montgomery, Dunlop, Byam, Mollhausen, Robinson,
Bryant, Bayard Taylor, De Mofras, and a thousand
others, covering the entire range of territory from
Alaska to Panamd. Periodical literature likewise
assumes importance.

With regard to maps, the field resembles that of
books in these respects, that it dates from the fifteenth
century and is without end. It would seem that
sometime such delineations should be finished; yet I
suspect that my works, as full and complete as I can
make them, will prove only the foundation of a liundred
far more attractive volumes. In our examination of
maps we may if we like go back to the chart of the
brothers Zeno, drawn in 1390, following with Behaim's
Globe in 1492, Juan de la Cosa's map in 1500, and
those by Buysch in 1508, Peter Martyr, 1511, that
in the Ptolemy's Cosmography of 1513, those in the
Munich Atlas and Schoner's globe, 1520, Colon's and
Ribero's, drawn in 1527 and 1529 respectively,
Orontius Fine in 1531, and Castillo, 1541, showing
the peninsula of California, after which the number
becomes numerous.

In my collection of manuscripts, taken as a whole,
I suppose the Concilios Provinciales Mexicanos should
be mentioned first. It is in four volumes, and is a
record of the first three ecclesiastical councils held in
Mexico ; in comparison with which a number of more
strictly religious works are hardly worth mentioning — ■
for example, the Cathecismo echo par el Concilio IV,

Lit. Ind. 14

210 THE LIBRARY.

Mexicano; the Explicacion de la doctrina hecha por el
Concilio IV.; Qumarraga, Joannes de. Pastoral, in
Latin ; the Moralia S. Gregorii Papw, and the Hke.

Of more value are the Sermones, of the discursos
panegiricos stamp, and other branches of the rehgio-
historical type, while the worth of such works as
Materiales para la Historia de Sonora, the same of
Texas, Nueva Galicia, Nueva Vizcaya, and other
provinces thereabout, secured mostly from the Maxi-
milian collection, is past computation. Among the
hundreds of titles which present themselves having
greater or less claims to importance are Memorias de
Mexico; Rivera, Diario Curioso; Mexico, Archivo Gen-
eral; Beaumont, Cronica de la Provincia de S. Pedro
y S. Pablo de Mechoacan; Cartas Americanas; Gomez,
Diario de Mexico. Some of the Squier manuscripts
are Grijalva, Relacion; Andagoya, Carta; Yzaguirre,
Relacion; Alvarado, Cartas; Cerezeda, Carta, and
Relacion; Viana, Gallego, and Cadena, Relacion;
Criado de Castilla, Relacion; Ddvila, Relacion; Docu-
mentos relatives a la Historia de la Aiidiencia de las
Confines; Leon Pinelo, Relacion, and Velasco, Capi-
tulos de Carta. From the Ramirez collection I ob-
tained Reales Cedulas, Reales Ordenanzas, Leyes, etc.;
Actas Provinciales ; Alhieuri, Historia de las Misiones;
Autos formados a Pedimento de esta Nohlessima ciudad;
Figueroa, Vindicias; Papeles de Jesuitas; Disturhios
de Frailes; Noticias de la Nueva California; Morji,
Apuntes sobre el Nuevo Mexico; Monteverde, Memoria
sobre Sonora; Monumentos Historicos; Relacion de la
Or den de San Francisco en la Nueva Espana; Me-
morias para la Historia de la Provincia de Sinaloa;
Tamaron, Visita del obispado de Durango; Tumultos
de Mexico, and many others.

In regard to the hundreds of manuscript volumes
of copied archives, histories, and narratives upon
which the histories of the northern half of the Pacific
territory is based, it is useless here to attempt any
mention; I can only refer the reader to the biblio-

MANUSCRIPTS. 211

graphical notices in my histories of that region, and
to other places, where somewhat more space is de-
voted to the subject. It is impossible, however, to
give in a few chapters any adequate idea of the vast
army of authors, arranged in battalions, regiments,
and companies, quartered in the library building on
Valencia street. The best exposition of the contents
of the books of the library may be found in my vol-
ume of Essays and Miscellany, where I devote four
chapters to the literature of the territory covered by
my writings, entitled, respectively, Literature of Cen-
tral America; Literature of Colonial Mexico; Liter-
ature of Mexico during the Present Century; and
Early California Literature. These chapters, to-
gether with the bibliographical notes carried through
all my historical works, and which I have endeavored
to make systematic, thorough, and complete, consti-
tute not only an expose of the contents of the library,
but a very fair history and analysis of Pacific States
literature, the library containing as it does the entire
literature of these lands. While thousands of authors
must obviously remain unmentioned, yet in spirit and
in essence the w^ritings of the place and time are fairly
presented, the object being to tell so far as possible
all that has been done in the various fields of learning
and letters.

In these chapters are presented not only results, but
causes, whence emerged, under conditions favorable or
unfavorable, natural or abnormal developments. The
colonial literature of Central America and Mexico
was some advance on the aboriginal, but not so great
as many imagine; but when we reach the republican
era of material and mental development, we find a
marked change. The Pacific United States are
bringing forth some strong men and strong books,
though thus far authors of repute as a rule have come
in from beyond the border-line, and are not sons of
the soil.

212 THE LIBRARY.

A collection of books, like everything else, has its
history and individuality. Particularly is this the
case in regard to collections limited to a special sub-
ject, time, or territory. Such collections are the re-
sult of birth and growth; they are not found in the
market for sale, ready made ; there must have been
sometime the engendering idea, followed by a long
natural development.

From the ordinary point of view there is nothing
remarkable in gathering 50,000 volumes and provid-
ing a building for their reception. There are many
libraries larger than this, some of them having been
founded and carried forward by an individual, with-
out government or other aid, who likewise erected a
building for his books. Nevertheless, there are some
remarkable features about this collection, some im-
portant points in connection therewith, which cannot
be found elsewhere.

First, as an historical library it stands apart from
any other, being the largest collection in the world of
books, maps, and manuscripts relating to a special
territory, time, or subject. There are larger masses
of historical data lodged in certain archives or libra-
ries, but they are more general, or perhaps universal,
relating to all lands and peoples, and not to so limited
an area of the earth. And when the further facts
are considered, how recently this country was settled,
and how thinly peopled it now is as compared with
what it will be some day, the difference is still more
apparent.

Secondly, it gives to each section of the area cov-
ered more full, complete, and accurate data concern-
ing its early history than any state or nation in the
civilized world, outside of this territory, has or ever
can have. This is a stupendous fact, which will find
its way into the minds of men in due time. I repeat
it: so long as this collection is kept intact, and
neither burned nor scattered, California, Oregon, and
the rest of these Pacific commonwealths may find

COMPARATIVE ANALYSIS. 213

here fuller material regarding their early history than
Massachusetts, New York, or any other American
state, than England, Germany, Italy, or any other
European nation. The reason is obvious: they lost
their opportunity; not one of them can raise the dead
or gather from oblivion.

Third, it has been put to a more systematic and
practical use than any other historical library in the
world. I have never heard of any considerable collec-
tion being indexed according to the subject-matter
contained in each volume, as has been the case here;
or of such a mass of crude historic matter beinof ever
before worked over, winnowed, and the parts worth
preserving written out and printed for general use, as
has been done in this instance.

Says an eminent writer: "Respecting Mr Ban-
croft's Pacific Library as a storehouse of historic data,
pertaining to this broad and new western land, but
one opinion has been expressed during the twenty
years that the existence of such an institution has
been known to the world. In all that has been said
or written, at home or abroad, by friend or foe^ by
admirers, indifferent observers, conservatrve critics,
or hypercritical fault-finders, there has been entire
unanimity of praise of the library as a collection of
historic data. Disinterested and impartial visitors,
after a personal inspection, have invariably shown a
de<)jree of admiration far exceedinor that of the warm-
est friends who knew the library only from descrip-
tion. The praise of those wlio might be supposed to
be hifluenced to some extent by local pride has never
equalled that of prominent scholars from the east
and Europe.

"There is no American collection with which this
can fairly be compared. There are other large and
costly private libraries ; but the scope, plan, and pur-
pose of the Bancroft Library place it beyond the pos-
sibility of comparison. It is made up exclusively of
printed and manuscript matter pertaining to the

2U THE LIBRARY.

Pacific States, from Alaska to Panama. To say that
it is superior to any .other in its own field goes for
little, because there are no others of any great mag-
nitude; but when we can state truthfully that nowhsre
in the w^orld is there a similar collection equal to it, the
assertion means something. And not only does this
collection thus excel all others as a whole, but a like
excellence is apparent for each of its parts. In it
may be found, for instance, a better hbrary of Mexi-
can works, of Central American works, of Pacific
United States works, than elsew^here exists. And to go
further, it may be said to contain a more perfect
collection on Alaska, on New Mexico, on Texas, on
Colorado, on Utah, on Costa Rica, and the other
individual states or governments than can be found
outside its walls. Not only this, but in several cases,
notably that of California, this library is regarded as
incomparably superior to any state collection existing,
or that could at this date be formed in all the United
States or Europe.

''There is no other state or country whose historic
data have been so thoroughly collected at so early a
period of its existence, especially none whose existence
has been so varied and eventful, and its record so com-
plicated and perishable. Mr Bancroft has attempted,
and successfully as is believed, to do for his country
a work which in the ordinary course of events would
have been left for a succession of historical societies
and specialists to do in a later generation, after the
largest part of the material had been lost, and the ac-
complishment of the purpose would be absolutely
impossible. Then, too, from such work the resulting
stores of data, besides their comparative paucity,
would be scattered, and not accessible as a whole to
any single investigator. The advantage of having
such historic treasures in one place rather than in
many is almost as obvious as that of preventing the
loss of valuable material."

In this connection it is worthy of our serious con-

RARE BOOKS. 215

sideration what the coming great Hbraries of the
world are going to do for those ancient and impor-
tant works which constitute at once the foundation
and gems of every great collection. However it may
be some time hence, it is certain that at the present
day no collection of books is worthy of the name of
library without a fair share of these rare and valuable
works. Particularly is this the case in our own coun-
try, where the value and importance of every library
must depend, not on Elzevir editions, elaborate church
missals, or other old-world curiosities, often as worth-
less as they are costly, but on works of material in-
terest and value relating to the discovery, conquest,
settlement, and development of America, in its many
parts from south to north, and east to west, from the
days of Columbus to the present time — books becom-
ing every day rarer and more costly. A prominent
New York bookseller thus prints in his catalogue, in
regard to old and valuable books as an investment :
''We have often, in the course of our experience as
booksellers, heard more or less comment on our prices.
'You have good books and rare books,' our customers
will say, 'but your prices are high.' And yet there
is not a collector in the country who would not be
glad to have books in his line at prices catalogued by
us three or four years ago, could we supply them at
the same prices now. So it may be safely affirmed
that in rare books the tendency of prices is upward,
the number of collectors increasing, and the difficulty
in findinof o'ood books also increasinof. We have
always found it more difficult to obtain a really rare
book in good condition than to sell it. To the gen-
uine lover of books it may be said: First find the
book you want, then buy it, and if you think you have
been extravagant, repent at your leisure, and by the
time you have truly repented tlie book will have
increased sufficiently in value to give you full absolu-
tion." The time will come, indeed, when men will
cease their efforts to measure the value of knowledge

216 THE LIBRARY. m

hy money. Any person or any people have the
right to ask, not, How much gold is a barrel of
knowledge worth? but, Can we afford to be intelli-
gent or learned, or must we by reason of our poverty
forever remain in itrnorance? Let all who love
knowledge, and delight in the intelligence and pro-
gress of the race, gather while they may.

Thus in these various forms and attitudes the mag-
nitude and in)portance of my work kept coniing up
and uro^inof me on. This western coast, it seemed to
me as I came to know and love it, is the best part of
the United States, a nation occupying the best part
of the two Americas, and rapidly becoming the most
intellectual and powerful in the world. Its early his-
tory and all the data connected w^itli it which can be
gathered is of corresponding importance.

Nor is this view so extravagant as to some it may
appear. Already New England is physically en the
decline, while there is surely as much mental vigor
west as east. Along the Atlantic seaboard are thou-
sands of farms which will not sell for what the im-
provements cost, while the extremes of climate are
killing and driving away. Work has scarcely yet
begun on the Pacific seaboard, where are millions
of unoccupied acres, ten of which with proper culti-
vation will support a family in comfort. The com-
monwealths of the New World are becoming more
and more united under the beneficent influences of
peace and progress; and the Monroe doctrine, at
first negative rather than positive in its- assertions,
is pointing the way toward world-wide domination by
American brotherhood. The greatest of republics,
surrounded and sustained in all that is elevating and
progressive by lesser free governments, enters upon
its second century of national existence under cir-
cumstances more favorable than has ever before been
vouchsafed to man. The integrity of the union has
been tried and preserved; the stain of slavery has

INTELLECTUAL STRENGTH. 217

been eradicated; and while there is yet enough of
corruption and licentiousness, political and social,
there is more than enough of good to counterbal-
ance the evil. In moral health and intellectual free-
dom we are second to none, and so rapidly is our
wealth increasing that England will soon be left
behind in the race for riches. Give to the United
States one half of the five centuries Rome gave her-
self in which to become established in that inherent
strength which made her mistress of the world, and
the great American republic cannot be otherwise if
she would than the most powerful nation on earth.
And when that time comes, California and the com-
monwealths around, and up and down this Pacific
seaboard, will be a seat of culture and power to
which all roads shall lead. So I give myself no con-
cern as to the importance or ultimate appreciation of
uiy work, however humble or imperfect may be the
instrument of its accomplishment. And of the two
sections, the historical narrative proper and the bio-
graphical section, the latter I should say has even
more of the invaluable practical experiences of the
builders of these commonwealths, which otherwise
would have passed out of existence, than the former.
The biographies and characterizations of the eminent
personages who during the first fifty years of the
existence of the Pacific commonwealths laid the
foundations of empire, and built upon them with such
marvellous rapidity, skill, and intelligence, and sur-
rounded as they are in a framework of the material
conditions out of which evolved their magnificent des-
tiny, contain vast magazines of valuable knowledge
almost altogether new and nowhere else existing.

CHAPTER IX.

DESPERATE ATTEMPTS AT GREAT THINGS.

Some have been scene to bite their pen, scratch their head, bend their
browes, bite their lips, beat the boord, teare their paper, when they were
faire for somewhat, and caught nothing therein.

Camden.

Heaps and heaps of diamonds and — sawdust ! Good
gold and genuine silver, pearls and oyster-shells, cop-
per and iron mixed with refuse and debris — such was
the nature and condition of my collection in 1869,
before any considerable labor had been bestowed upon
it. Surrounded by these accumulations, I sat in an
embarrassment of wealth. Chaff and Avheat; wheat,
straw, and dirt; where was the brain or the score
of brains to do this winnowing?

What winnowing? I never promised myself or
any one to do more than to gather; never promised
even that, and probably, had I known in the begin-
ning what was before me, I never should have under-
taken it. Was it not enough to mine for the precious
metal without having to attempt the more delicate
and difficult task of melting down the mass and re-
fining it, when I knew nothing of such chemistry?
But I could at least arrange my accumulations in
some kind of order, and even dignify them by the
name of hbrary.

During my last visit abroad Mr Knight had been
clipping in a desultory manner from Pacific coast
journals, and classifying the results under numerous
headings in scrap-books and boxes; and I had also at
that time an arrangement with the literary editor of

f2181

OAK AKD THE OCCIDENT. 219

the New York Evening Post, whereby he cHpped
from European and American journals, and for-
warded to San Francisco, monthly, such articles of
value touching this territory as fell under his eye.
By this means much pertinent matter was saved
which I should never otherwise have seen. These
clippings were all arranged, as nearly as possible,
under such several divisions as su^^rested themselves.

While these persons were thus engaged, which was
for little less than a year, there came to the establish-
ment of H. H. Bancroft and Company a young man,
a native of New England, Henry L. Oak by name,
recommended by Mr S. F. Barstow for the position
of office-editor of a religious journal called The Occi-
dent, which the firm was then publishing for a religious
association.

Knight was then manager of the publishing depart-
ment, and to him Mr Oak was introduced. I had not
yet returned from the east, where I remained some
time on my way back from Europe. After talking
the matter over with the persons interested, Mr Oak
was finally installed in the position. His predecessor
remained a few weeks instructincr him in his duties,
and he had no difficulty in filling the position to the
satisfaction of all concerned. These duties consisted
at first in writing the news items and minor editorial
notes, making selections from printed matter, reading
proof, folding and mailing papers, keeping the accounts,
corresponding with contributors and subscribers, and
collecting bills. Gradually the whole burden of edit-
ing the journal fell on him. The persons interested
failing to carry out their agreement, the firm declined
the further publication. of the journal, and the young
editor w^as thrown out of employment. Thus the
matter stood on my return from the east, and then
my attention w^as first directed to Mr Oak.

Meanwhile I had engaged as assistant, and finally
successor, to Mr Knight, an Englishman of erratic

220 DESPERATE ATTEMPTS AT GREAT THINGS.

mind and manner, who called himself Bosquetti. lie
was remarkably quick and clear-headed in some direc-
tions, and a good talker on almost any subject. Large
additions had lately been made to the library; there
were some wagon loads of old musty books, appar-
ently unfit for anything, whicli had been thrust pro-
miscuously as received into large bins in one corner
of the second floor wareroom of the Merchant-street
building, before mentioned.

Bosquetti was directed to arrange and catalogue
these lots. He had some knowledge of books and
even of cataloguing, but his mind was not remark-
able for breadth or depth; the capability to produce
finished results was wantincf. He* had been thus oc-
cupied about a month when I engaged Mr Oak to
assist him. Oak knew little of books except such
as he had studied at college, and professed to know
nothing of cataloguing ; but he possessed to an
eminent degree that rarest of qualities, common-
sense. Within a few weeks he had familiarized him-
self with the best systems, improving on them all in
many respects, or at least he had taken from them
such parts as best befitted his work and had applied
them to it. Thick medium writing paper was cut to
a uniform size, three and a half by five inches, and
the full titles were written thereon; these were then
abridged on smaller cards, two and a half by four
inches, and finally copied alphabetically in a blank
book made for that purpose. The United States
government documents were examined, a list of
volumes needed to fill sets was made out, and the
contents of those at hand determined. A copy was
likewise made of the catalogue of the San Diego
archives, kindly furnished by Judge Hayes, which
subsequently fell to me as part of the collection
purchased from him. Shortly afterward Bosquetti
decamped, leaving Oak alone in his work, which he
pursued untiringly for over a year. Indeed, he may
be said to have done the whole of the cataloguing

ADVENTURES OF BOSQUETTI. 221

himself, for what his coadjutor had written was of
Httle practical benefit.

The flight of Bosquetti was in this wise : First I
sent him to Sacramento to make a list of such books
on California as were in the state library. This he
accomplished to my satisfaction. On his return,
having heard of some valuable material at Santa Clara
college, I sent him down to copy it. A month passed,
during which time he wrote me regularly, reporting
his doings, w^hat the material consisted of, what the
priests said to him, and how he was progressing in
his labors. He drew his pay religiously, the money
both for salary and expenses being promptly sent
him. It did not occur to me that there was any thing-
wrong. He had been with me now for several
months and I had never had cause to distrust him,
until one day the proprietor of the hotel at which he
lodged wrote me, saying that he understood the gen-
tleman to be in my service, and he thought it but
right to inform me that since he came to his house
he had been most of the time in a state of beastly
intoxication and had not done a particle of work.
When his bottle became low he would sober up enough
to make a visit to the college, write me a letter,
receive his pay, and buy more liquor.

In some way Bosquetti learned that I had been
informed of his conduct, and not choosing to wait for
my benediction, he wrote me a penitent letter and
turned his face southward, seemingly desirous above
all to widen the distance between us. I was satisfied
to be rid of him at the cost of a few hundred dollars.

Oak was thus left in sole charge of the literary
accumulations, of which he was duly installed libra-
rian. When the card copying was nearly completed
the books were alphabetically arranged, tied up in
packages, and placed in one hundred and twenty-one
large cases, in which shape, in May, 1870, they were
transferred to the fifth floor of the new and yet un-
finished building on Market street. After superin-

222 DESPERATE ATTEMPTS AT GPtEAT THINGS.

tending their removal the Hbrarian daily climbed a
series of ladders to one of the side rooms of the new
library, where a floor had been laid and a table placed.
There he continued copying into a book the contents
of the small cards previously prepared, and thus made
the first manuscript catalogue of the library, which
was in daily use for a period of twelve years. He
was assisted a portion of the time by a cousin of mine,
son of my most esteemed friend and uncle, W. W. Ban-
croft, of Granville. Shelving was then constructed;
the cases were opened, and the books placed alpha-
betically upon the shelves. During this time I made
some passes at literature, writing for the most part
at my residence. Shortly after we had fairly moved
into the Market-street building, the full effects of the
business depression before mentioned were upon us.
The business outlook was not flatterinor but never-
theless we pressed forward, well knowing that to
falter was perdition.

During the autumn of 1870 Mr Oak continued
his labors on the fifth floor, cataloguing new lots of
books as they came in, arranging maps, briefs, and
newspapers, copying and clipping bibliographical notes
from catalogues, and taking care of the books and
room. It was still my intention in due time to
issue a bibliography of the Pacific coast, which
should include all of my own collection and as
many more titles as I could find. Before the end of
the year there was quite a pile of my own manu-
script on my table, and in the drawers, monographs,
mostly, on subjects and incidents connected with the
Pacific coast. All my thoughts were on history, and
topics kindred thereto, Pacific States history, and the
many quaint and curious things and remarkable and
thrilling events connected therewith. I was passion-
ately fond of writing; I would take up a subject
here or an episode there and write it up tor the pure
pleasure it gave me, and every da}^ I found myself

WlllTINCr AT RANDOM. 223

able with greater ease and facility to discbarge my
thoughts on paper. But even yet I had no well
defined intentions of writing a book for publication.
The responsibility was greater than I cared to assume.
I had seen in my business so many futile attempts in
that direction, so many failures, that I had no desire
to add mine to the number.

While I was wavering upon this border land of
doubt and hesitancy in regard to a yet more direct
and deeper plunge into the dark and dangerous
wilderness of erudition before me, Mr Oak concluded
to visit his old home and pass the winter with his
friends at the east.

I continued wanting, though in a somewhat desul-
tory manner; the idea of anything more systematic at
this time was somewhat repugnant to me. As yet my
feebly kindled enthusiasm refused to burn brightly.
I longed to do something, I did not know what; I
longed to do great things, I did not know how; I
longed to say something, I had nothing to say. And
yet I would write as if my life depended on it, and
if ever a bright thought or happy expression fell from
my pen my breast would swell with as much pleasure
as if I saw it written in the heavens, though the next
moment I consigned it to a duni^eon there to remain
perhaps forever. Much of what I last published was
thus first written. The difliiculty, so far as more sys-
tematic effort was concerned, was to flee the incubi
of care, and of pecuniary responsibihty that leech -like
had fastened themselves upon me these twenty years,
and now threatened destruction to any plans I might
make. For weeks at a time I would studiously avoid
the library, like a jilted lover hating the habitation
of his mistress; and the more I kept away the more
the place became distasteful to me. Then I would
arouse myself, resolve and re -resolve, dissipate de-
pressing doubts, shut my eyes to former slights, and
turn to the dwelling of my love.

Long before I had a thought of writing anything

224 DESPERATE ATTEMPTS AT GREAT THINGS.

myself for publication, the plan of an encyclopaedia
of the Pacific States had been proposed to me by
several gentlemen of California, who had felt the
need of such a work. The idea presented itself thus :
My collection, they said, was composed of every species
of matter relating to the coast — physical geography,
geology, botany, ethnology, history, biography, and so
on through the whole range of knowledge. Was it
not desirable to give to the world the fruits of such a
field in the most compact shape, and was not an en-
cyclopsedia the natural, and indeed the only feasible
form?

I did not at all fancy the task which they would
thus lay upon me. It was not to my taste to manipu-
late knowledge merely. To write and publish a
treatise on every subject embraced within the cate-
gories of general knowledge would be a task almost
as impracticable as to reproduce and oflfer to the world
the books of the hbrary in print. Yet it was true
that an encyclopaedia of knowledge relating w^holly to
the territory covered by the collection, which should
supplement rather than supersede eastern and Euro-
pean encyclopaedias, would certainly be desirable. The
volumes should be rather small, and the articles wdiich
treated purely of Pacific coast matters longer than
those contained in other encyclopaedias. Some sub-
jects might occupy a whole volume — as, for example,
bibliography, mines and mining, physical geography,
ethnology — and might be published separately, if
necessary, as well as in the series. The matter was
discussed, with rising or falling enthusiasm, for somie
time.

Mr Oak departed for the east in December, returned
the 28th of April, and on the 1st of May, 1871, re-
sumed his duties as librarian. Ten days were spent
by him in attending to the preparation of two guide-
books for tourists, the publication of which I had
undertaken, and in discussing the scheme of an en-
cyclopaedia, which I finally consented to superintend.

LITERARY SCHEMES. 225

I then began to look about for contributors. It was
desirable at once to draw out as much as possible of
talent latent on this coast, and at the same time to
secure the best writers for the work. Circulars were
accordingly issued, not only to men eminent in litera-
ture and the professions, but to pioneers, and to all
likely to possess information, stating the purpose and
requesting cooperation. To several of the judges,
lawyers, physicians, clergymen, and others in San
Francisco of known literary tastes and talents, I made
personal appeals, and received flattering assurances.

I appointed an agent in New York, Mr Henry P»
Johnston, then on tlie editorial staif of the Sun
newspaper, to call on Californians and others capable
and williniTf to write, and en^T^agfe their contributions.
Mr Coleman promised to dictate to a stenographer
an account of the San Francisco Vigilance Committee,
and Mr Simonton aG^reed to contribute an article on
journalism provided I would furnish the data. Mr
Kemble, Professor Wood, Dr Scott, Mr Raymond,
Mr Squier, and many others, placed themselves freely
at my service.

Mr John S. Hittell took a lively interest in the
scheme, carefully preparing a list of the principal sub-
jects which according to his idea should be treated,
and the space to be given to each. A prospectus
was printed, and letters sent out inviting coopera-
tion. Many promised to contribute, among them
Isaac Bird,^C. H. Eberle, W. W. Chipman, A. N.
Fisher of Nevada, ^latthew P. Deady of Oregon, M.
Baechtel, Archbishop Alemany, John W. Dwindle,
Charles H. Sawyer, James De Fremery, John B.
Harmon, J. G. Icazbalceta of Mexico, J. J. Warner, R.
G. Greene of Washington, R. McCormick of Arizona,
L. F. Grover of Oregon, E. S. Holden, J. B. Lamar, J.
F. Lewis, T. M. Logan, O. C. Marsh of Yale College,
L. B. Mizner, A. R. Safford of Arizona, A. F. White,
Ogdcn Hoffman, Wm. Ingraham Kip, John B. Fclton,
Hall McAllister, Horatio Stebbins, Frank Soulc,

Lit. Ind. 15

226 DESPERATE ATTEMPTS AT GREAT THINGS.

John T. Doyle, Henry II. Haiglit, W. Loomis, Wni.
M. Gwin, David D. Colton, James S. Busli, Maurice C.
Blake, Fred W. Loring of Boston, Nathaniel Bennett,
Henry Cox, James T. Gardner, John R. Jarboe,
Elwood Evans, G. A. Shiirtleff, John B. Frisbie, John
McHenry, James Blake, H. H. Toland, John G.
McCuUoiigh, Andrew L. Stone, Alphonse L. Pinart.
M. de G. Vallejo, Morris M. Estee, James T. Boyd,
Charles N. Fox, Albert Hart, and a hundred more.
Many other projected works have at various times
commanded my attention, and to execute them would
have given me great pleasure, but I was obliged
to forego the achievement, a thousand years of life
not having been allotted me. Among them were
A History of Gold ; Ph3^sical Features of the Pacific
States; a volume on Interoceanic Communication;
one on Pacific Railways; a series of volumes of con-
densed Voyages and Travels; a Geography in small
8vo; also a similar volume on Ethnology, and one on
History, all of a popular nature embodying certain
ideas which I have never seen worked out. On this
last mentioned project, and indeed on some of the
others, considerable work was done. I have likewise
intended to print fifty or one hundred of the most
valuable of my manuscripts as material for Pacific
States history. Whoever has lived, laboring under
the terrible pressure of the cacoethes scribendi, with-
out promising himself to write a dozen books for
every one accomplished!

For the first time in my life health now began to
fail. The increasing demands of the vast mercantile
and manufacturing structure which I had reared drew
heavily upon my nervous system. I grew irritable,
was at times despondent, and occasionally desperately
indifferent. I determined on a change of scene.
Accordingly the 10th of May I started for the pur-
pose of recreation and recuperation on a visit to the
east, stopping at Salt Lake City for the purpose

AT THE EAST. 227

of enlisting the Mormons in my behalf. President
Young and the leading elders entered heartily into
my project, and a scheme was devised for obtaining
information from every part of Utah. A schedule
of the material required was to be forwarded through
the channels of the government, with such instruc-
tions from the chief authorities as w^ould command
the immediate and careful attention of their subor-
dinates throughout the territory. With the intention
of calling on my return and then to carry out the
plan I continued my journey. Then I fell into
despondency. The state of my nerves, and the un-
certainty of my financial future, had so dissipated
ambition that much of the time I found myself in
a mood fitter for making my exit from the world
than for bei^inninsc a new life in it.

At this time the chances that any important results
would ever emanate from the library through my in-
tervention were very slight. Gradually I abandoned
the idea of having anything to do with an encyclo-
paedia. My energies were sapped. My grip on destiny
seemed relaxing. I had helmed the ship of V)usiness
until exhausted, and the storm continuing, I left it
to others, little caring, so far as I was personally
concerned, whether it weathered the uale or not.
There was too much of a lengthening out of the
agony; if I was to be hanged, let me be hanged and
have done with it. Such was my humor during the
summer of 187] , as I lounged about among my friends
at the east, listless and purposeless.

From this lethargy I was awakened by the acci-
dental remark of a lady, at whose liouse I was visit-
ing with my daughter. She was an earnest, practical
woman, cool and calculating ; one whose friendship
had been of long duration, and whose counsel now was
as wise as it was beneficent. Conscious of superior
intellect, vain of her wealth and her influence, her
strong character had much in it to admire in its energy
and decision, though often wraped by egotism and jeal-

228 DESPERATE ATTEMPT AT GREAT THINOS.

ousy. Clearly comprehending the situation, slie saw
that for me activity was life, passivity death, and
her mind seemed to dwell on it. One day she said
to me, "The next ten years will he the best of your
Hfe; what are you going to do with them?" A lead-
ing question, truly, and one I had often asked myself
of late without ability to answer; yet her womanly
way of putting these few simple words brought them
home to me in a manner I had never before felt. I
was standing by, waiting to see wdiether I might
proceed with my literary undertaking or whether I
should have to go to work for my bread.

Those were the days of unattempted achievements,
of great things unaccomplished. Imaginary sprout-
ings of imaginary seeds sown and to be sown were
visible to the mind's eye on every side, embryo vol-
umes and germs of great works, and there were at
hand the soil and fertilizers to stimulate development,
but as yet I could point to little that betokened suc-
cess. There was a rich field of honors yet to be sown
and reaped. Huge quantities of invaluable material
lay strewn on every side, material absolutely valueless
in its present shape. And thus was I held in a sort of
limhus loatrumy half way between earth and heaven.

What was I to do? I did not know; but I w^ould
do something, and that at once. I would mark out a
path and follow it, and if in the mean time I should
be overwhelmed, let it be so; I would waste no more
time w^aiting. Once more I rubbed my lamp and
asked the genius what to do. In due time the answer
came; the way was made clear, yet not all at once;
still, from that time I was at less loss as to what
next I should do, and how I should proceed to do it.
From that day to this I have known less wavering,
less hesitation. I would strike at once for the highest,
brightest mark before me. I would make an effort,
whatever the result, which should be ennobling, in
which even failure should be infinitely better than
listless inaction. Exactly what I would undertake I

RETURN TO CALIFORNIA. 229

could not now determine. History-writing I con-
ceived to be among the highest of human occupa-
tions, and this should be my choice, were my ability
equal to my ambition. There was enough with which
to wrestle, under these new conditions, to strengthen
nerve and sharpen skill.

Thus roused I went back to California. I entered
the library. Oak, alone and rudderless on a sudoriHc
sea, was faithfully at work cutting up duplicate copies
of books and severalizing the parts upon the previous
plan, thus adding to the numerous scraps hitherto
collected and arranged. It was a sorrowful attempt
at great things; nevertheless it was an attempt. To
this day the fruits of many such plantings in connec-
tion with these Literary Industries remain unplucked.
Yet, if never permitted by my destiny to accomplish
great things, I could at least die attempting them.

CHAPTER X.

A LITERARY WORKSHOP.

We were the first that ever burst
Into that silent sea.

Coleridge,

It was the 20th of August, 1871, that I returned
from my eastern trip, being summoned to the su])-
port of a greatly imperiled business. My friends
had become fearful for the safety of the firm, and
had telegraplied me to return. Wicked reports of
things undreamed of by ourselves had been so long
and so persistently circulated by certain of our com-
petitors, who feared and hated us, that the confidence
of even those slow to believe ill of us began to be
shaken. No Achilles was near to smite to earth those
sons of Thersites.

The fact of my changing the name of the firm, the
reason for which I had some delicacy about loudly
proclaiming, was perverted by our enemies into a fear
as to the ultimate success of the business, and a deter-
mination on my part in case of failure not to be brought
down with it. And this, notwithstanding they knew,
or might have known, that I never shirked any part
of the responsibility connected with the change of
name, and that every dollar I had was pledged for the
support of the business. To their great disappoint-
ment we did not succumb ; we did not ask for an exten-
sion, or any favors from any one. Nevertheless my
friends desired me to return, and I came.

But I was in a bad humor for business. I never
thought it possible so to hate it, and all the belittlings

(230)

SWEEPING OF COBWEBS. 231

and soul-crushings connected with it. Even the faint
ghmpse of the Above and Beyond in my fancies had
been sufficient to spoil me for future money grubbings.
''Only those who know the supremacy of the intellect-
ual life," says George Eliot, "the life which has a seed
of ennobling thought and purpose within it, can un-
derstand the grief of one who falls from that serene
activity into the absorbing soul-wasting struggle with
worldly annoyances." Had I been alone, with only
myself to suffer, and had not even my literary aspira-
tions been dependent on the success of the shop, I
would have turned my back on it forever to let it sink
or swim, as it pleased or was able.

This, however, was not to be. My duty was too plain
before me. The business must have my attention; it
must have more money, and I must provide it. Into
llie breach I threw myself, and stood there as well as
I was able, thouu^h at such a cost of feelinf? as no one
ever knew, and as few could ever appreciate. Having
done this, all that I could do, and in fact all that was
necessary to save the business, I mentally consigned
the whole establishment to oblivion, and directed my
attention once more, and this time in desperate earnest,
to my literary infatuation.

At the very threshold of my resolve, however,
stared me in the face the old inquiry. What shall I
do, and how shall I do it? One thing was plain, even
to a mind as unskilled in the mysteries of book-
making as mine. On my shelves were tons of un-
winnowed material for histories unwritten and sciences
undeveloped. In the present shape it was of little use
to me or to the world. Facts were too scattered;
indeed, mingled and hidden as they were in huge
masses of debris, the more one had of them the worse
one was off All this was like mixing chlorine and
hydrogen in the dark: so long as the mixture is kept
from light the ingredients manifest no disposition to
unite, but once let sunshine in and quickly they com-
bine into muriatic acid. Thus, not until the rays of

232 A LITERARY WORKSHOP.

experience illuminated my library did tlie union of
my efforts and material fructify. A little truth in su<'h
a form as one could use, a quantity sucli as one could
grasp, was better than uncontrollable heaps. Much
knowledge out of order is little learning; confusion
follows the accumulation in excess of ungeneralized
data.

To find a way to the gold of this amalgam, to
mark out a path through a wilderness of knowledge
to the desired facts, was the first thing to be done.
He who would write at the greatest advantage on
any practical subject must have before him all that
has been written by others, all knowledge extant on
that subject. To have that knowledge upon his
shelves, and yet be unable to place his hand upon it,
is no better than to be without it. If I wished to
write fully on the zoology, for example, of the Pacific
slope, nine tenths of all the books in m}^ library con-
taining reference to the animals of the coast might as
well be at the bottom of the ocean as in my possession
unless I was prepared to spend fifteen years on this
one subject. And even then it could not be thoroughly
done. Fancy an author with thirty or fifty thousand
volumes before him sittinor down to read or look
through ten thousand of them for every treatise or
article he wrote! De Quincey gives a close reader
from five to eight thousand volumes to master between
the ages of twenty and eighty; hence a man beginning
at thirty-seven with twenty thousand volumes soon
increased to forty thousand, could scarcely hope in his
lifetime even to look into them all.

This was the situation. And before authorship could
begin a magic wand must be waved over the assembled
products of ten thousand minds, which would several-
ize what each had said on all important topics, and
reduce the otherwise rebellious mass to form and sys-
tem. This, after the collection of the material, was
the first step in the new chemistry of literary reduc-
tion. Here, as elsewhere in the application of science,

EXTRACTING MATERIAL. 233

facts must be first collected, then classified, after which
laws and general knowledge may be arrived at.

How was this to be accomplished ? It is at the in-
itial period of an undertaking that the chief difficulty
arises. I had no guide, no precedent by which to formu-
late my operations. I might write after the ordinary
method of authors, but in this field comparatively
Httle could come of it. To my knowledge, author-
ship of the quality to which I aspired had never be-
fore been attempted by a private individual. A mass
of material like mine had never before been collected,
collocated, eviscerated, and re-created by one man, un-
assisted by any society or government. The great
trouble was to get at and abstract the information.
Toward the accomplishment of this my first efforts
were crude, as may well be imagined. I attempted to
read or cursorily examine such volumes as were likely
to contain information on the subjects to be written,
and to mark the passages to be extracted. A system
of figures was adopted, one of which, pencilled on the
margin of the page, denoted the subject-heading under
Avliich the extracted page or paragraph should appear.
These passages were then copied. Of course it would
have been easier to purchase two copies of every im-
])ortant book, and to have cut them up, as in fact was
done in many instances; but nine tenths of the library
could not be duplicated at any cost, and to destroy a
book or even a newspaper of which I could not buy
another copy was not for a moment to be thought of.

But what was one man, one reader, among so many
thousand authors I After going over a dozen volumes
or so in this manner, and estimating the time required
for readinor and marking: ^H the books of the library,
I found that by constant application, eight hours a
day, it would take four hundred years to go through
the books of the library in a superficial way. It
must be borne in mind that these books had been
collected on a special subject, and therefore it was
necessary to examine every one of them. I concluded,

234 A LITERARY WORKSHOP.

therefore, that other men must also be set to read,
and more men to copy literatim all information likely
to be required in the study of any subject. Thus
these literary industiies beoan gra(kially to assume
broader proportions, and so they continued till Decem-
ber of this same year.

On trial, however, the plan proved a failure. The
copied material relating to the same or kindred topics
could indeed be brought together, but on begin-
ning to write I found the extracts unsatisfying, and
felt the necessity of the book itself The copyist may
have made a mistake; and to appraise the passage at
its full value I must see the connection. Any expe-
rienced author could have told me this; but there was
no experienced author at hand.

After some twenty-live reams of legal cap paper
had thus been covered on one side, to consign the
labors of these six or eight men for these several
months to the waste heap was but the work of a mo-
ment. There was too much involved, the enterprise
was projected on too large a scale, to admit of a wrong
beginning; and prepared as I was to stake past, present,
and future on this literary adventure, it appeared
folly to continue a path shown to be wrong. La Fon-
taine's idea was not a bad one: '^Le trop d'expddiens
pent gater une aifaire : on perd du temps au choix, on
tente; on veut tout faire. N'en ayons qu'un; mais
qu'il soit bon."

Meanwhile, after frequent and protracted discus-
sions, I determined to have the whole library indexed
as one would index a single book. This surely would
bring before me all that every author had said on any
subject about which I should choose to write. This,
too, would give me the authors themselves, and em-
body most of the advantages of the former scheme
without its faults. In pursuance of this plan Oak
took up the voyage collections of Hakluyt and Na-
varrete, while less important works were distributed to

VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. 235

such of the former readers and copyists as were
deemed competent. For example, one Gordon made
an index of Cahfornia legislative documents. Albert
Goldschmidt's first work was to make an index, on a
somewhat more general plan than that of Navarrete,
of the Atlantic Monthly, and other magazines and
reviews. He afterward catalo^i^ued a laro^e lot of
Mexican books. To Cresswell, since in the Nevada
senate, Pointdexter, and others, was given less im-
portant work.

Among other parts of the outlined encyclopasdia was
a collection of voyages and travels to and throughout
the Pacific States. As the more comprehensive pro-
gramme was gradually set aside, my attention became
more and more concentrated on these several parts.
True, history was ever the prominent idea in my
mind, but, audacious as was my ambition, I had not
the presumption to rush headlong into it during the
incipient stages of my work. At the beginning of my
literary pilgrimage, I did little but flounder in a slough
of despond. Until my feet touched more solid ground,
I did not dare essay that which appeared to me no less
difficult than grand.

A collection of voyages and travels such as I pro-
jected offered many attractions as an initial step in
my literary undertakings. Incident and instruction
were therein so combined as under a sparkling pen
to awaken and retain the liveliest interest. Here was
less risk of failure than in more ambitious attempts;
I alone possessed the material, and surely I could serve
it in a style not wholly devoid of attractions. If this
were not within the scope of my accomplishment
nothing was. So, during the first half of 1872, in
conjunction with the indexing, under a devised system
of condensation, several persons were employed in ex-
tracting Pacific coast vo3'ages and travels. Mr Ora
Oak, a younger brother of the Hbrarian, was so
employed for some time, displaying marked ability.
Walter M. Fisher wrote out the travels of Bryant,

236 A LITERARY WORKSHOP.

Bayard Taylor, Humboldt, and others. This work
altogether lasted about a year, and resulted in —
nothing.

Several women were also employed upon these
voyages; one, a pretty widow whose name I have
forgotten, brought her luncheon and made her tea
at my fire. I know not why it is, but almost every
attempt to employ female talent in connection with
these Industries has proved a signal failure. Many
poor and needy women, all educated, and some of
them talented and highly cultivated, came to me
begging employment. They had done great things
hitherto, and were sure they could do this so simple
work. Indexing, as they imagined, was nothing; and
as for travels, had they not been up and down the
world writing for this weekly or the other monthly?
I know of no object on earth so pitiable as an in-
competent, impecunious woman, has bleu or brainless,
obliged to earn her living and too proud to work with
her hands; and there are always thousands of such
in California. Sympathizing with their forlorn con-
dition, I have often given them work when I knew
they could not do it, giving the time of a valuable
man to teach them, paying perhaps for a fortnight's
annoyance, and then throwing the results of her
efforts into the waste-basket.

I have to-day nothing to show for thousands of
dollars paid out for the futile attempts of female
writers. What it is they lack, justly attributable to
their sex, I hardly know. That a woman has not the
mental or physical force and endurance of a man does
not seem a sufficient reason. True, in literary labors,
strength is taxed to the utmost. I have tried many
occupations, and there is no kind of work, I venture
to say, so wearing as literary labor. The manage-
ment of a large commercial establishment is play be-
side^ it. A mercantile and manufacturing book and
stationery business, with two hundred men at work at
fifty different things, is as intricate and full of detail

FEMALE ASSISTANTS. 237

as any other occupation ; and yet while deep in literary
labors I have voluntarily assumed the sole management
of the business which I had built, for several years at
a time, finding relief and recreation in it. It was well
systematized; there were good men at the head of
every part of it; and for me to manage it was as easy
and pleasurable as driving a well trained four-in-hand.
An enduring attack by the mind on the tableful of
mind spread out before it; a grappling of intellects
and a struggle, if not for preponderance at least for
identity, for life — this, while the brain saps the
essences of the body until the head is hot, and the
feet cold, and the limbs stiff, this is the work of men.
It is not the play at work of women. If a woman
has genius, that is another thing. But even then
genius alone is of little avail to me. My work de-
mands drudgery as well. If she have genius, let her
stay at home, write from her effervescent brain, and
sell the product to the highest bidder.

Hard work, the hardest of work, is not for frail and
tender woman. It were a sin to place it on her. Give
her a home, with bread and babies; love her, treat
her kindly, give her all the rights she desires, even
the defiling right of suffrage if she can enjoy it, and
she will be your sweetest, loveliest, purest, and most
devoted companion and slave. But life-long applica-
tion, involving life-long self-denial, involving constant
pressure on the brain, constant tension of the sinews,
is not for women, but for male philosophers or — fools.
So, long since, I forswore petticoats in my library;
breeches are sometimes bad enough, but when unbe-
fitting they are disposed of somewhat more easily.

Later in my work, and as an exception to the
above, I am glad to testify to the ability and success
of one female writer, if for no other reason than to de-
liver me from the charge of prejudice. I have found
in Mrs Frances Fuller Victor, during her arduous
labors for a period of ten years in my library, a
lady of cultivated mind, of ability and singular ap-

238 A LITERARY WORKSHIP.

plication; likewise her physical endurance was re-
markable.

Long before this I had discovered the plan of the
index then in progress to be impracticable. It was
too exact; it was on too minute a scale. Besides
absorbing an enormous amount of time and money in
its making, when completed it would be so volumi-
nous and extended as to be cumbersome, and too un-
wieldy for the purpose designed.

Others realized this more fully than myself, and
from them came many suggestion in perfecting the
present and more practical system. This is a modi-
fication and simplification of the former, a reduction
to practice of what before was only theory. Three
months were occupied in planning and testing this
new system. When we became satisfied with the
results, we began indexing and teaching the art
to the men. As the work progressed and the plan
inspired confidence, more indexers were employed.
Hundreds were instructed, and the efficient ones
retained. Mr William Nemos came in, and as he
quickly mastered the system and displayed marked
ability in various directions, the indexing and the in-
dexers were placed under his supervision.

The system as perfected and ever since in successful
and daily operation, I will now describe :

Forty or fifty leading subjects were selected, such
as Agriculture, Antiquities, Botany, Biography, Com-
merce, Drama, Education, Fisheries, Geology, His-
tory, Indians, Mining, etc., which would embrace all
real knowledge, and cover the contents of the wdiole
collection, except such parts as were irrelevant. For
example, a writer's ideas of religion were considered of
no value, as was anything he saw^ or did outside of our
Pacific States territory; or his personal affairs, unless
of so striking a character as to command general in-
terest. These forty or fifty subjects formed the basis
of the index, embracing the whole range of practical
knowledge, history, biography, and science, while ex-

INDEXING THE LIBRARY. 239

eluding tons of trash, with which every author seems
bound in a greater or less degree to dilute his writings.

Now as to the collection of minor subjects or sub-
topics under the general headings, so as to permit a
ready use of the material with the least possible fric-
tion. The device is at once ingenious, simple, and
effectual. The lists of subjects were so chosen that
each might be made to embrace a variety of sub-
divisions. Thus under the head Asrriculture are in-
eluded stock raising, soils, fruits, and all other products
of farm cultivation. Under Antiquities are included
ruins, relics, hieroglyphics, and all implements and
other works of native Americans prior to the coming
of Europeans; also ancient history, traditions, migra-
tions, manners and customs before the conquest, and
speculations, native and European, concerning the
origin of the Americans. The same system was
observed with Architecture, Art, Bibliography, Biog-
raphy, Ethnology, Jurisprudence, Languages, Manu-
factures, Medicine, Meteorology, Mythology, and all
the other chief subject-headings, including states and
localities. A list of abbreviations was then made, and
the plan was ready for application.

The operation of indexing was as follows : A list of
subjects, with their subdivisions and abbreviations,
was placed before an assistant, who proceeded to read
the book also given him, indexing its contents upon
cards of heavy writing paper three by five inches in
size. When he came to a fact bearing on any of the
subjects in the list he wrote it on a card, each assist-
ant following the same form, so as to produce uniform
results. For example, the top line of all the cards was
written in this manner:

Agric. Cal., Silk Culture, 1867.

Antiq. Chiapas, Palenque.

Biog. Cortes (H.)

Hist. Mexico. 1519.

Ind. Nev. Shoshones (Dwellings).

Ogn. Portland. 1870.

240 A LITERARY WORKSHOP.

The second line of each card gave the title of the
book, with the volume and page where the informa-
tion was to be found; and, finally, a few words were
given denoting the character of the information. Here-
with I give a specimen card complete:

Ind. Tehuan. Zapotecs. 1847.

Macgregor, J. Progress of America. London, 184'/
Vol. I., pp. 848-9.

Location, Character, Dress, Manufactures.

Here we have a concise index to a particular fact
or piece of information. It happens to relate to the
aborigines, and so falls under the general heading
Indians. It has reference especially to the natives of
Tehuantepec. It is supposed to describe them as they
were in the year 1847. It concerns the Zapotec tribe
particularly. It has to do with their location, char-
acter, dress, and manufactures, and it is to be found
on pages 848 and 849 of the first volume of a book
entitled Progress of America, written by J. ^lacgregor,
and published in London in 1847. Of course, when
the cards are put away in their case all the cards on
Indians are brought toofether. Of the Indian cards
all those relating to Tehuantepec are brought together.
Of the Tehuantepec natives all in the library that
relate to the Zapotec tribe will be found together;
and so on.

Thus the student is directed at once to all the sources
of information concerning his subject, and the orderly
treating of innumerable topics, otherwise impossible,
is thus made practicable. If, for example, a person
wishes to study or write upon the manners and cus-
toms of all the aborigines inhabiting the territory
covered by the library, he takes all the cards of the
index bearing the general heading Indians, and is by

RESULTS FROM THE INDEX. 241

them directed immediately to all the sources of infor-
mation, which else would take him ten years at least
to ferret. If information is desired of Tehuantepec,
take the Tehuantepec cards; or if of the Zapotec
tribe only, the Zapotec cards. So it is with any sub-
ject relating to mining, history, society, or any other
category within the range of knowledge.

Thus book by book of the authorities collected was
passed through the hands of skilled assistants, and
with checks and counter-checks an immense and all-
comprehending system of indexing w^as applied to each
volume. Physical, moral, geographical, historical, from
the fibre of an Eskimo's hair to the coup de maitre of
Cortes, nothing was too insignificant or too great to
find its place there. With the index cards before him,
the student or writer may turn at once to the volume
and page desired; indeed, so simple and yet so effect-
ual are the workings of the system that a man may
seat himself at a bare table and say to a boy. Bring
me all that is known about the conquest of Darien,
the mines of Nevada, the missions of Lower Califor-
nia, the agriculture of Oregon, the lumber interests
of Washington, the state of Sonora, the town of
Queretaro, or any other information extant, or any
description, regarding any described portion of the
western half of North America, and straightway, as
at the call of a magician, such knowledge is spread
before him, with the volumes opened at tlic [)age.
Aladdin's lamp could produce no such results. That
commanded material wealth, but here is a sorcery that
conjures up the wealtli of mind and places it at the
disposition of the seer.

Hundreds of years of profitless uninteresting labor
may be saved by this simple device; and a prominent
feature of it is that the index is equally valuable in
connection with any other library where copies of my
material may exist. The cost of this index was about
thirty-five thousand dollars, but its value is not to be
measured by money.

Ln. Ind. 16

242 A LITERAEY WORKSHOP.

After the explanation given, one would think it easy
to find men who could make this index. But it was not
so. Never was there man or woman who looked at it
but instantly knew or thought they knew, all about it;
yet nineteen out of twenty who attempted it failed.
The difficulty was this : to be of value, the work must
all be done on a uniform plan. If one competent per-
son could have done the whole, the index would be
all the better. But one person could not do all ; from
five to twenty men were constantly emploj^ed upon
it for years. Many of the books were indexed tw^o or
three times, owing to the incompetency of those w^ho
first undertook the task.

It was extremely difficult to make the indexers
comprehend what to note and what not. Rules for
general guidance could be laid down, yet in every
instance something must be left to the discretion of
the individual. All must work to a given plan, yet
all must use judgment. In attempting this, one would
adhere so rigidly to rule as to put down a subject-
heading whenever a mere word was encountered,
even though unaccompanied by any information. If,
for example, the sentence occurred, ^'The machinery
of government had not yet been set in motion along
the Sierra foothills," such an indexer would make a
card under Machiner}^ to the infinite disgust of the
investigator of mechanical affairs. At the same time,
most important facts might be omitted, simply be-
cause they were not expressed in words which broadly
pointed to a subject on the list. Then, too, there was
much difference between men in aptness, some find-
ing it necessary to plod through every line before
grasping the pith of the matter, while others acquired
such expertness that they could tell by merely
glancing down a page whether it contained an}^ useful
information. But by constant accessions and elimina-
tions a sufficient number of competent persons was
found to carry the work forward to completion.

When a volume was finished the indexer would

A UNIVERSAL INDEX. 243

hand it with his cards to Mr Oak or Mr Nemos, who
glanced over the work, testing it here and there to
see that it was properly done, and then gave out
another book. Finally the cards were all classified
under their distinguishing .title, and placed in alpha-
betical order in upright cupboard-like cases made for
the purpose. The cases are each about five feet in
height, four feet in width, and less than six inches in
thickness, with board partitions, and tin shelves slant-
ing inward to hold the cards in place. The partitions
are distant apart the length of the card, and the
depth of the case is equivalent to the width of the
card. In other words, the receptacles were made to
fit the cards.

In special work of great magnitude, such as ex-
haustive history, it is necessary to invest the system
of indexing with greater detail, more as it was first
established, making innumerable special references,
so that when done and arranged according to subject
and date, all that has been said by every author on
every point is brought together in the form of notes.
I shall have occasion to refer to this subject again.

Such was the machinery which we found neces-
sary to contrive in order to extract the desired material
from the cumbersome mass before us. And by this
or other similar means alone can the contents of any
large library be utilized ; and the larger the collection
the more necessity for such an index. A universal
index, applicable to any library, or to the books of the
world collectively, might be made with incalculable
advantage to civilization; but the task would be her-
culean, involving the reading of all the books and
manuscripts in existence. Such an instrument in the
hands of a student may be likened to the dart given
by Abaris, the Hyperborean priest, to Pythagoras,
which carried the possessor over rivers and mountains
whithersoever he listed. This will probably never be
done, although theoretically the plan is not so prepos-
terous as might at first glance appear. No individual

244 A LITERARY WORKSHOP.

possessed of reason would undertake it as a private
scheme; necessarily it must be a national, or rather
an international, work; and the number of persons of
different climes and tongues to be employed would very
likely prove fatal to it. Yet I believe the time will
come when all the chief libraries of the world will
have their index. Surely in no other way can scholars
command the knowledge contained in books; and as
books multiply, the necessity increases.

CHAPTER XI.

SOME OF MY ASSISTANTS.

Not cbaos-like together crush'd and bmis'd,
But, as the world, harmoniously confus'd,
Where order in variety we see,
And wliere, though all things differ, all agree.

Pope.

Those to whom I apply the term assistants by no
means include all the army of workers who have at
various times and in various ways lent me their ser-
vices in my historical efforts. During tlie long term
of my labors, it is safe to say that no less than six
hundred different persons were at work for me at
various times in my library. As the minimum, the
number engaged in the library at any one time dur-
ing a period of thirty years seldom feh below twelve;
the liighest being fifty, some thirty of whom were on
regular details. The highest number was employed,
however, only when there was extra work to do, such
as special indexing, extracting, copying, or verifications.
My assistants proper, as the term is used here, are
those who aided me in my more responsible labors, and
may be reduced to twenty in all, though more than a
hundred made the effort unsuccessfully at one time or
another.

All my life, whatever I have had in hand, whether
in the field of business or of literature, I have alwa3^s
been fortunate enough to have good men about me,
not only efficient aids, but those whom I could call my
friends, and the enjoyment of whose regard was ever
a source of gratification. Obviously this is a neces-
sity whenever a person undertakes to accomplish

(245)

246 SOME OF MY ASSISTANTS.

more in any direction than a single head and pair of
hands can do in a hfetime. Though all have not
ability and integrity, I have always found some in
whose faithfulness I could trust as in my own; and
while the responsibility must always rest upon me
alone, some portion of that praise which has been so
lavishly bestowed upon me and my enterprise rightly
belongs to them.

Not only must the man who would assist in his-
torical work aiming at the truth be honest, but
honesty must be so inbred, so permeating the blood
and bones of him, that deceit shall find no entrance.
Not only must he be conscientious, but conscience
must have full possession, and all his thoughts and
actions be as under the all-seeing eye. For the op-
portunities, and to the careless and unprincipled the
inducements, for slighting the work, for taking the
easiest rather than the most thorough way of doing
a thing, are so great, that if so disposed he may devote
the requisite number of hours to his task and ac-
complish worse than nothing. If heedless and indif-
ferent, and he be so disposed, he may save himself
much drudgery, the performance of which never would
be known or appreciated. Hence, I say, love of truth
for truth's sake must be to every one of these men as
the apple of his eye. It is true, every man is known
to his fellows, and thoroughly known in the end. No
one, however cunning, can deceive and escape detec-
tion always. He will be weighed and measured as
time passes by at his exact value; but in researches
like mine, he could, if he would, subject one to great
annoyance, and spoil as much as or more than he
accomplished, which, indeed, was not unfrequently
done in my library.

First among my collaborators I may mention here
Henry Lebbeus Oak. I have already told how he
first came to the library, and at an early day became
an important adjunct to it. I have often regarded it

HENRY L. OAK. 247

as remarkable that so true and conscientious a friend,
so faithful a librarian and laborer, should so early
and opportunely have come to my aid. He was bora
at Garland, Maine, on the 13th of May, 1844. His
Welsh, English, and Scotch ancestry was American
on all four sides from a date preceding the revolution ;
his great-grandfather, the Rev. Ebenezer Hill, was a
Harvard man of 1786, and his grandparents, unmind-
ful of the star of empire, moved to Maine from Bos-
cawen and Mason, New Hampshire, early in the
present century.

Childhood and youth were passed uneventfully in
his native village. School duties were mingled with
a little work in garden, stable, wood-shed, or in the
shop of his father, who was a harness-maker. His
parents, however, were indulgent; there was but lit-
tle work to be done, and I cannot learn that he was
over anxious to do that little; thus most of his time
was spent in idleness, mischief, and novel-reading,
varied with out-door sports of the quieter class; for
vice and dissipation he had slight inclination, and still
less opportunity. He was educated at the common
and high school, attending the latter, which was ex-
ceptionally good at Garland, in autumn and spring,
from the age of ten years.

In 18G1 he entered the freshman class of Bowdoiu
college, and was graduated at Dartmouth in the clas.s
of 18G5. His college course corresponded in time
with the great civil war which called away many of
his classmates; and indeed, Oak often had the desire
— a most foolish one, as it seemed to him later — to
enlist, but was kept from doing so by the opposition
of his parents, who were giving him a college educa-
tion at a sacrifice they could ill afford. In the winter
vacations he taught school in different towns of his
native state; and after graduation was employed for
a year as assistant in an academy at Morristown,
New Jersey. The occupation was most distasteful,
though our Yankee schoolmaster seems to have had

248 SOME OF MY ASSISTANTS.

fair success as instructor and disciplinarian; and in
the hope of one day shaking it off, he prepared for
commerce by devoting some evenings to the study of
book-keeping, and for law by borrowing a law-book
and letting it lie on his table till the owner wanted it.
California then came to his rescue, as she has rescued
many another, saving some from hell, but vastly more
from heaven. Through the aid of his college room-
mate, George R. Williams, an old Californian, then
studying law at Petaluma, he obtained an engagement
as clerk in the grain warehouse of McNear Brothers,
and came to California by steamer in 1866. Illness,
something new in Oak's experience, soon forced him
to quit this employment, and reduced him, financially,
to nothing; indeed, I have heard him attribute his
escape from permanent lodgings at Lone mountain,
or some less expensive resort for the dead, to the
kindness of Mr and Mrs S. F. Barstow of San Fran-
cisco, the latter a sister of Williams, at whose house
he was w^ell cared for. And, here I say, may God's
best blessing rest on those who, at the cost of time,
money, and personal convenience, befriended sick and
destitute w^anderers in the early gold-getting days of
California and later.

On his feet again, with the aid of John Swett,
in the spring of 1867 Oak found a position as princi-
pal of the Haywards public school, where he remained
for one term, rapidly regaining his health; and then
for a term became assistant at the Napa collegiate
institute, a methodist institution, where the term
^assistant' was somewhat comprehensive, since the
])rincipal was on the circuit and but rarely made his
appearance. A peculiar phase of his experience here,
to wdiich I have heard him allude, w^as the rather em-
barrassing necessity of conducting school and family
prayers, besides asking a blessing on rather doubtful
food three times a day, as he had recklessly agreed at
the first to do, rather than lose the job, if the princi-
pal should chance now and then to be absent. Five

HENRY L. OAK. 249

months of this sort of thing became somewhat tedious,
though, by developing episcopalian tendencies, he
avoided having to keep up a reputation with the
brethren at prayer-meetings, and even read his family
service from a book, though the school prayer some-
times became prayed out and required remodelling.
I find nothing of hypocrisy in all this; in a sense,
though fast drifting into free thought, he was in ear-
nest; it takes a long time for a boy to rid himself of
the old beliefs that are breathed in with the New
England air, and Oak saw no harm in addressing pe-
titions to a supreme being, even if that being and his
methods were not quite so clear to him as they seemed
to others. And later, when his religious creed — that
of entire ignorance resjoecting the aifairs of another
world, mingled with respect and somewhat of envy
for those who know all about it — had become more
settled, I doubt not he would have performed the
strange task with much less embarrassment, even if
Mohammed or Quetzalcoatl had been the object of
local worship.

From Napa he came again to San Francisco; and
in the spring of 1868, after a long period of idleness,
when on the point of being forced by lack of funds to
become again a teacher, he was employed as office
editor of the Occident, a presbyterian organ; and a
year later, when the publication of that paper passed
from the control of our firm, he assumed the position of
librarian and superintendent of that wide range of
intricate detail essential to extracting material in the
Bancroft library, a place he held continuously for a
period of nearly twenty years.

I suppose nature has a place and purpose for every-
thing she makes, though it certainly would seeni that
not everything made by nature finds its place and
purpose. This man, however, certainly found his vo-
cation, and fitted himself to it perfectly. In him
Were combined, in a remarkable degree, those rare and
admirable qualities essential to the work. Ability,

250 SOME OF MY ASSISTANTS.

application, endurance, clear-headedness, and sound
judgment, united with patience and enthusiasm, en-
abled him to trample down many of the obstacles
which constantly beset our path. He had a thorou(:^h
knowledge of Spanish and French, with a useful
smattering of other languages. Pleasant and affable
to all around him, he sought no man's company.
Methodical in his habits, having little to do with so-
ciety, he fastened his mind upon the work, and there
kept it day after day, and year after year. No one
ever has known, or ever will know, the early history
of California or the Spanish northwest as we knew it
then — I say never will know it, because, if possessed
of taste, time, talent, and all other necessary quali-
ties, no one will have the same opportunity. His-
tory was in the mouths of men, and in the air as well
as in old letters and musty manuscripts. Soon all
this changed; and tongues that then talked of mis-
sion life, the Bear Flaof war, and the p'old-fyatherino^
struggle of the nations, were forever silenced; yet
only hereafter will the value of a coniplete record
made before it was too late be fully appreciated.

Oak is plain of speech. Without dogmatism he
has an opinion, and usually a clear and correct one,
on almost every current topic, particularly if it be
connected with his work or the library. And in the
expression of opinion he is not timid. It has been
my custom from the beginning to discuss freely with
him and others every question of importance arising
in my work. I have always courted criticism from
those about me as freely as I have been ready to be-
stow it on them. Often somewhat radical differences
of opinion have arisen between- Oak and myself;
but during the many pleasant years we have labored
together, the first disrespectful thought has yet to find
utterance, the first unkind word has yet to be spoken.

It is a remarkable fact that this is the only live
Yankee to find permanent occupation in my work.
New Englanders in California, as a rule, make better

WILLIAM NEMOS. 251

business men than literary men. They are here too
eager for traffic, too anxious to trade jack-knives, too
sharp after the dollars, to settle down to plodding
brain-work which yields them no substantial return.
Their minds are no better fitted for it than their
inclinations. Their education has taken a different
turn. Their ambition is of that caste that culture
alone will not satisfy. They want money, houses,
horses, wine^ and tobacco. We of the fifth floor,
and of Valencia Street, did not eschew all these. We
were no anchorites, though trimming our midnight
lamp and working in a garret. But when our stom-
achs were full, and divers other longings gratified, we
remembered that we had heads.

In the mercantile and manufacturing parts of the
business, on the other hand, the Anglo-American
element was displayed to the greatest advantage.
There boys w^ere to be found brimful of energy and
ambition, bound to carve for themselves a fortune
or die; also men of ability and integrity, many of
whom I reared and educated in the book-selling occu-
pation myself.

Working in the library at one time I have had
representatives from England, Ireland, and Scotland;
from France, Germany, and Switzerland; from Rus-
sia, Poland, Spain, and Italy — with but one from any
part of the United States. But let me say that this
one, in regard to ability, integrity, and life-devotion
to me and my cause, was surpassed by none.

Never was there a more devoted, faithful worker in
any field than my valued friend William Nemos, a nom
do plume by which he preferred to be known among
us. Retiring in all his tastes, and enthusiastic as a
student, he loved to dip into lore of every description,
with a predilection for the abstruse and for linguistics.
He possessed, indeed, a knowledge more or less
complete of all the principal languages of Europe,
from those of Spain and Italy in the south, to Rus-

252 SOME OF MY ASSISTANTS.

sian and Swedish in the north, the latter his native
tongue. Further than this, after he entered my
library he improved rapidly in method, taste, and
style. But let me briefly tell the story of his early
life.

At the foot of Bore, where the snow-crowned sum-
mits of the lofty fjelds gleam in perpetual defiance of
Helios, beside a roaring torrent that issued from the
rugged mountains, he was born, in February 1848,
his natal day being next after Washington's. Poor
Finland! Will naught satisfy the tyrannous Musco-
vite till the last drop of Scandinavian blood be let upon
the thirsty earth?

His father was a nobleman, not rich; his mother of
a wealthy family of good stock. His ancestry and
his country's glorious past, with stories of the mighty
Kucko, and of the famous Oden, who gathered the
braves unto his Walhalla, were duly impressed upon
his youthful mind. German and piano lessons were
first given him by his mother. A talent for lan-
guages was early developed under parental tuition, so
that an uncle insisted he should go to St Petersburg,
and there prepare himself for some position under the
tzar.

Wrapped in contraband stuffs, he w^as passed
tremblingly through the hands of the fierce Musco-
vites into the gentler ones of a lady for whom the goods
were intended, and who unrolled him with affectionate
care. After a year at private school he returned
home to attend the church or grammar school; it
was finally determined that the gymnasium, or classic
high school, at Stockholm was the place for him;
so to the Venice of the north he was forthwith
sent, preparatory to entering the Upsala university,
where at the tmie was a brother whom he visited
occasionally to obtain initiation into the student life
proposed for him also, but not to be realized.

After a pretty thorough course of mathematics and
the classics at Stockholm, comphcated family affairs

WILLIAM NEMOS. 253

compelled him to break off his studies, go to London,
and enter a commission and ship-broker office. The
place was procured through the favoring influence
of a family friend in London, who wisely deemed a
thorough acquisition of the English language and
business routine of the highest advantage to his young
friend.

Pride and sensitiveness would not permit him to
drag the time-honored family title into the dusty pur-
lieus of a London trafficker's office, or to consent that
it should otherwise be lightly treated. Rather let it
be laid aside until such time as it might be worn
again with befitting form.

He continued his studies, which now included a
course of philosphy under an Upsala graduate. Well
grounded in the critical system of Kant, with its sub-
jective methods, this tutor could not but feel the in-
consistency of theories which, centring everything in
the ego, yet left this involved in hopeless confusion.
On coming to England, therefore. Nemos w^as natu-
rally drawn more strongly to her typical empiricism,
as presented in the sense-perceptions of Locke, al-
though even here the mist could not be cleared, for
instance, from the hypothetic duality in the relation
between ideas and qualities. Nemos profited by these
inquiries in a comparative study of both the experi-
mentarian and transcendental doctrines, and this under
the guidance of a devotee whose enthusiasm tended
to impress his teachings.

After a business trainin;^ of ei^'hteen months he
was transferred to a position in a leading house trad-
ing with India. There he remained at a good salary
for five years, acting as junior correspondent, after
being for a time in charge of the shipping depart-
ment, and sometimes aid to the cashier. Trips to the
continent during summer vacation aflbrdcd a pleasing-
variation from business routine, and added to the
instructive sights of London.

Ill health, apparently more imaginary than real, now

254 SOME OF MY ASSISTANTS.

broke Ins connection with the British metropolis and
sent him adrift upon the sea. Hard study, and a
neglect of due attention to hours and exercise, had
affected his spirits, and as a sister had died of con-
sumption, the fear seized him of congenital tendencies.
Correspondence with the family physician at home
brought about the resolution to take a long voyage.
In the spring of 1870 he left Liverpool by sailing
vessel for Australia, and arrived at Melbourne, after
a pleasant voyage, the third month out. There, with
many of his fellow-passengers, he made haste to seek
employment, and as thousands have done in that
city as in San Francisco, sought in vain^

The allurement of gold stole upon his youthful
fancy, with dreams of hidden treasures and speedy
enrichment. A still feeble constitution pleaded,
moreover, for bracing mountain air, and confinement
within the narrow^ bounds of a ship, after a still
longer enchainment to the desk, assisted by mere
contrast to gild the unfettered life in camp and forest.
Soon came disenchantment.

In the mines he fell amons: thieves. One of his
partners was an ex-convict, who prompted the rest
to recompense him for furnishing all the supplies of
flour, bacon, whiskey, and tobacco for the company
by concealing in their mouths the Httle gold they took
out. This was, perhaps, as neat an arrangement as
the villains ever concocted, and remarkably simple —
they had a man to furnish all the provisions, while
they took all the proceeds.

When his money was gone, Nemos concluded to dis-
solve the partnership and retire from business. Driv-
ing his partners out of camp, he packed up and
returned to Melbourne, and thence proceeded to
Sydney. There he revelled in the tranquil beauties
of that southern Pacific garden — to him a paradise
of verdure-clad promontories creeping softly into the
still waters, as if to woo theorange groves of the tiny
isles bathing at their feet; to the Cahfornia of the

THOMAS SAVAGE. 255

rushinf^, roaring times, a paradise of Satan-serpents
sending its slimy brood across the ocean to set on fire
the incipient hell already there prepared by the as-
sembled gold-drunken hosts.

Hawaii next, and then San Francisco, landing at
the latter in midsummer 1871; and thence to Oregon
to accept an engagement as assistant civil engineer on,
the proposed railroad. This being finished, 1873 saw
him again in San Francisco. Failing to obtain con-
genial employment, he determined to go to New
York, satisfied that his ling^uistic attainments would
be better appreciated there than in the far west. But
in the mean time my efforts attracted his attention,
and he readily obtained permanent employment in
the library.

In this labor his rare abilities for the first time
found fitting occupation. Little by little, through-
out almost the entire period of my historical efforts,
his talents unfolded, until in many respects he stood
first, and became director of tlie library detail, includ-
ing later the librarianship. He liad a remarkable
faculty for systematizing work, and drilling men into
a common metliod, as before explained. Alive to the
interests of tlic library as to his own, he was ever
jealous of its reputation, and untiring in his efforts to
see produced historical results only of the soundest
and most reliable order. I would that the countries
among whose archives he has spent the better part of
his life laboring, mightappreciate his services to them
at their proper worth.

Thomas Savage was born in the city of Habana, of
New England parents, the 27th of August, 1823.
His ancestors were amonof the earliest settlers of
Boston, many of whom acquired wealth and distinc-
tion in various professions.

When nine years of age the boy could speak Span-
ish better than English, and French more fluently
than either. He read Don Quixote in Spanish be-

256 SOME OF MY ASSISTANTS.

fore he had been taught the alphabet. Masters were
provided him, and he was also sent to school at
ilabana, where he read the Latin classics, became
proficient in mathematics, and prepared himself for
the legal profession.

His father, who was a man of fine business ability,
making money easily and rapidly, but somewhat de-
ficient in the art of keeping it, died when Thomas Avaa
quite young. Ill health obliged him at length to
abandon study; besides, he bad no taste for the law.
Yet in the short time spent at his studies he learned
enough to be able to rapidly transcribe for me, in a
hand as neat as Thackeray's or Leigh Hunt's, upon
the usual half-sheets of legal paper, a clear transla-
tion of almost any language I might choose to place
before him. He was sickly from childhood; many
times his life was despaired of, and ever since I have
known him he has been a constant sufferer; yet all
the while he has worked as industriously and as cheer-
fully as if enjoying the best health.

Several children were the result of marriage in 1850,
but sickness and death kept his purse low. Within a
period of ten years Mr Savage buried thirteen mem-
bers of his family.

A few years in a mercantile house as book-keeper
were followed by an engagement in the United States
consulate, as clerk under Robert B. Campbell, then
consul at Habana. For twenty-one and a half years
thereafter Mr Savage was in continuous consulate
service, portions of the time in charge of the office as
deputy and as chief.

During his long tenure of office many important
international questions arose, in which he took part,
and many were the acts of disinterested charity per-
formed by him, particularly to passing Californians in
trouble. The years 1849-51 at this port were spe-
cially important, both to the United States and to
California. Then it was that his thorough knowl-
edge of the Spanish language, and his long experience

THOMAS SAVAGE. 257

in consular business, rendered his services invaluable.
In Mexican-war times General Santa Anna was there
whiling^ away the tedious hours of exile by cock-
fighting. Mr Savage was present at an interview
between Mr Campbell and Santa Anna to obtain the
latter*s views as to the future policy of Mexico. Al-
monte, Rejon, Basadre, and others were present, but
the wily Mexican, though by no means reserved, was
extremely non-committal. The invasions of Cuba by
Lopez in 1850-1, the last of which terminated so
disastrously to the expedition, made Savage much
work in the copious correspondence which followed.
Many Californian gold-seekers, on their return, reached
Habana broken in health and without means to pro-
ceed farther to their home and friends. These must
be provided for; and all such relief came out of the
pockets of- their poorly paid countrymen there sta-
tioned. And to his enduring honor be it said, never
did distressed stranger appeal to him in vain. While
I, a green boy for the first time from home, in the
spring of 1852, was gazing in rapt wonderment about
the streets of Habana, and taking in my fill of the
strangle si^^hts, Mr Sava^^^e was in the consulate office
engaged in his duties, each oblivious, so far as the
other was concerned, of the present and the pregnant
future.

Prominent men, both from the United States and
Mexico, were now his associates. He always strongly
opposed the slave-trade. When the war for the union
broke out he remained faithful to his government,
though his chief was an active secessionist. One
day a man called on Mr Savage and revealed a plot
then hatching in San Francisco to capture the Pacific
Mail company's steamer at Acapulco. At another
time one informed him of a plan of revolution then
being prepared in southern California, detailing to
him how mucli of money each conspirator had sub-
scribed in support of the scheme. These facts were
made known by Savage to the government officials at

Lit. Ind. 17

258 SOME OF MY ASSISTANTS.

Washington, who telegraphed them to General Mc-
Dowell. For twenty months during the hottest of
the war, while blockade-running from Habana to
Mobile and other southern ports was of almost daily
occurrence, Mr Savage was in full charge of the
consulate at Habana. Every movement adverse to
the government he narrowly watched and reported,
and the capture of many a valuable prize was due di-
rectly to his exertions. For which service, of empty
thanks he received abundance, but no prize-money, as,
indeed, he was not entitled to any. Neither did the
government remunerate him for his extra service and
expenses, though to that he was justly entitled.

To Mr Savao^e is due the credit of discoverins^ the
plot of capturing the San Francisco treasure steamer
in 1864. It was to be effected through the prior
capture of the Panamd Railway company's steamer
Guatemala, with which, when taken, the conspirators
were to lie in wait for the treasure steamer bound
down, from San Francisco to Panamd. They em-
barked at Habana, where many schemes of this kind
were concocted requiring the utmost care of the consul
to frustrate, on board the British Royal Mail steamer
for St Thomas, thence to go to Panamd, and seize the
Guatemala.

The 31st of December, 1867, Mr Savage retired
from the consulate at Habana, poorer by the loss of
twenty-one laborious years than when he entered it.
After spending the greater part of 1868 in the United
States, in November of that year he went to Panamd
and edited the Spanish part of the Star and Herald.
Likewise for a time while at Panama he acted as
consul for Guatemala. At Panam^ in 1870, he
married his second wife, a most charming lady, young,
beautiful, accomplished, and wealthy, and withal de-
votedly attached to her husband. Soon after their
marriage a disastrous fire swept away a large portion
of her property.

Mr Savage then went to San Salvador, where,

FRANCES FULLER VICTOR. 259

after teaching and writing for the newspapers for a
time, he was appointed United States consul. Shortly
afterward a revolution broke out. The city was bar-
ricaded and threatened with an attack. The United
States minister, Torbert, and the consul lived on the
same street, opposite each other. Day and night they
kept their flags flying, and at times their houses were
filled with refugees. Finally at Santa Ana the revo-
lutionists won a battle; the government of President
Duefias fell to the ground, and in due time order was
ao^ain restored.

The climate of Salvador did not agree with Mrs
Savage. A sister of hers died there. So Mr Savage
determined to try Guatemala. There he edited a
paper, which did not pay expenses, and after a resi-
dence of eighteen months, he determined to try the
coast northward. The 26th of March, 1873, he arrived
at San Francisco, and four months afterward entered
the library.

For many years Mr Savage was my main reliance
on Spanish- American affairs. All my chief assistants
were good Spanish scholars, but all in cases of doubt
were glad to refer to him as an expert. With good
scholarship, ripe experience, and a remarkable knowl-
edge of general history, he brought to the library
strong literary tastes, a clear head, and methodi-
cal habits. At my suggestion he prepared for Tlie
Bancroft Company a most valuable work, entitled
the Spanish- American Manual. The work was writ-
ten for the purpose of giving to the commercial world
a vast amount of information lying hidden under the
foreign language and peculiar customs of the people
of Latin America.

Frances Fuller was born in the township of Rome,
New York, May 23, 1826, and educated at the semi-
nary in Wayne county, Ohio, whither her parents
erelong removed. Her mother, who was married at
sixteen, while the father was but eighteen, was a

2C0 SOME OF MY ASSISTANTS.

passionate lover of the beautiful in nature and art.

Given the parentage, what of the children? They
had for their inheritance pride of race, susceptibility
to beauty, intellectual strength, the rhythmic sense,
and good physical traits. Out of these they should
without doubt evolve that temperament which, on
account of its excessive sensibility, we call the poetic,
although it is not always accompanied by the poetic
faculty or sense of numbers. In this case, however,
of five girls two became known as writers of both
verse and prose, and a third of prose only.

Frances was the eldest of the family, and was but
thirteen years of age when her father settled in
Wooster, Ohio. Her education after that was de-
rived from a course in a young ladies' seminary, no
great preparation for literary work. At the age of
fourteen she contributed to the county papers; when
a little older, to the Cleveland Herald, which paid for
her poems, some of which were copied in English
journals. Then the New York papers sought her
contributions, and finally she went to New York for a
year to become acquainted with literary people, and
was very kindly treated — too kindly she tells me,
because they persuaded her at an immature age to
publish a volume of her own and her sister Metta's
poems. But worse things were in store than this
mistaken kindness. Just at the time when a plan
was on foot to make the tour of Europe with some
friends, the ill-health of her mother recalled her to
Ohio and the end of all her dreams. What with
nursing, household cares, and the lack of stimulating
society, life began to look very real. A year or two
later her father died, and there was still more real
work to do, for now there must be an effort to in-
crease the family income month by month. In this
struggle Metta was most successful, having a great
facility of invention, and being a rapid writer, and
stories being much more in demand than poems
brought more money. Frances possessed a wider

FRANCES FULLER. 261

range of intellectual powers, of the less papular be-
cause more solid order. The sisters were twin souls,
and very happy together, " making out," as Charlotte
Bronte says, the plan of a story or poem by their
own bright fireside in winter, or under the delicious
moonlight of a summer evening in Ohio. A position
was offered them on a periodical in Detroit, and they
removed to Michigan. This did not prove remunera-
tive, and was abandoned. By and by came marriage,
and the sisters were separated, Metta going to New
York, where she led a busy life. Their husbands
were brothers. Frances married Henry C. Victor, a
naval engineer, who came to California under orders
in 18G3. Mrs Victor accompanied him, stopping a
while at Acapulco, where the Narragansett to which
Mr Victor was ordered, was lying. At San Fran-
cisco, she found the government paying in greenbacks.
To make up the loss of income something must be done.
So she wrote for the Bulletin city editorials and a
series of society articles, under the nom de plume of
'' Florence Fane," which were continued for nearly
two years, and elicited much pleasant comment by
their humorous hits, even the revered pioneers not
being spared. About the time the war closed, Mr
Victor resigned and went to Oregon, where, early in
1865, Mrs Victor followed him, and was quickly
captivated by the novelty, romance, and grandeur of
the wonderful north-west. Her letters in the Bulletin,
articles in the Overland Monthly, and her books, All
over Oregon and Washington and The River of the West,
with other writings, show how cordially she entered
into the exploration of a fresh field. In 1878 she ac-
cepted a hint from me, and came readily to my assist-
ance, with greater enthusiasm than one less acquainted
with her subject could be expected to feel. In abil-
ity, conscientiousness, and never-ceasing interest and
faithfulness Mrs Victor was surpassed by none.

Walter M. Fisher and T. Arundel Harcourt came

262 SOME OF MY ASSISTANTS.

to the library in 1872, the former early in the year,
and the latter in November. Albert Goldschmidt
had been at work about a year when Harcourt came.
Fisher was the son of an Irish clergyman; Harcourt
claimed to be a scion of the English aristocracy; while
Goldschmidt was of German extraction. Fisher, fresh
from college, was brought in by a fellow-countr3^man,
the Reverend Hemphill, and set to work taking out
material for voyages. He applied himself closely,
devoting his days to writing and his nights to the
study of languages and literature. Throughout his
college course he had paid special attention to litera-
ture, and now he determined to adopt it as a profes-
sion. Probably at that time there was no better
school for him in the world in which to make rapid
and practical advancement in his favorite literary paths
than my library. For although the work therein
was in one sense local, yet all literary work of any
pretensions must be in some respects general, and the
experience he obtained while with me was invalu-
able to him. And this he was ever ready to acknowl-
edge. In a book entitled The Calif ornians, published
in London soon after his return to the old country,
wherein men and things here were somewhat severely
spoken of, all his references to the library and to the
time spent there were of the most cordial and pleas-
ing character.

Born in Ulster in 1849, he used to call himself a
'49er. His father was of the Scotch presbyterian
church, and the family were members of a Scotch and
English colony " in the Atlantic Ocean to the w^est
of Great Britain," as the son said. Indeed, Fisher
always insisted that he was an Englishman, holding
apparently no great respect for the Irish. In his own
religious belief, or rather in the absence of any, he
was quite liberal, and it was on this account, as
much as any other, that he originally left his father's
house.

After the tutors and pedagogues came three years

WALTER M. FISHER. 263

with old Doctor Timothy Blaine of the Royal Aca-
demical institution of Belfast, whose lessons and lec-
tures on the English language and its literature were
then as novel in middle-class schools as they were
masterly and attractive in themselves. Fisher was
among his favorite pupils. After that he matricu-
lated in the Queen's university, attending lectures
connected with that institution at Belfast. The col-
lege library, however, did more for him than all the
lectures, and there he was so sedulous a student that
his professors often looked in vain for him on their
benches.

University paths he saw, in due time, were not his.
Old-time wa3^s by rule and rote he could neither pro-
fess, preach, nor practise; so he went to London, and
thence to Paris — books, books, books, being ever the
substance of his dreams. The French war upsetting
his plans, he returned to London. There, one day,
he picked up a book in the British Museum on the
subject of California, and before he laid it down the
determination was on him. He packed his books,
and in December 1871 steamed out of Liverpool with
a ticket in his pocket-book marked San Francisco.
Two days after his arrival he was at work in the li-
brary.

Toward the close of 1875 he returned to London,
proposing between London and Paris to spend his
days doing such work in literature as he found to do;
doing it, as he says of it himself, "better every way,
I believe, for the sun of California, for the fellowship
and labors we had together there, and for the loves
there born. Oh, the grand days we had, warm with
hope and strong with endurance ! If no man says it,
I dare to say it, there have been lesser heroes than
we, up on that fifth floor in a San Francisco book-
shop, fighting against the smiles of the children of
mammon and of Belial, fighting alone, modest and
silent, each of us 'travaillant pour son coeur, laissant
k Dieu le reste.'"

264 SOME OF MY ASSISTANTS.

Goldschmidt was a pleasant, social man, of no very
pronounced parts, in age about thirty-five, given to
ease and quietness rather than to physical exertion or
hard study. He made himself familiar with the
books of the library, and was apt and useful in many
ways. There was scarcely any language with which
we had to do but that he would decipher it after a
fashion. Old Dutch was his delight. Many of those
sixteenth-century writers done into the purest and
best English are meaningless enough, some of them
in places absolutely unintelligible, any one of half a
dozen constructions being equally applicable to the
words; and yet Goldschmidt was never so happy as
when seated before a table full of tliese works, in
various languages, and written from widely different
standpoints by authors oceans asunder, with plenty of
time at his command, eno^ag^ed in the work of reconcil-
ing their jargon.

Harcourt, as he called himself, said that he was
born in London in 1851; that his father was a gen-
tleman of old family and considerable property, which
was slightly increased by marriage with a lady of high
birth; and that when eight years old his mother died,
and then for the first time he was sent to school.
Possessed of quick perceptions, he might easily have
outstripped his fellows in learning; indeed, at the end
of his first half-year he carried home the prize for
superior attainments in Latin. But in those days it
was not the fashion for aristocratic boys to study.
The hard workers were poor weaklings, easily thrashed;
creatures to be despised, spat upon; beings expressly
contrived by nature to be used, to be punched into
writing the verses of their superiors in station, strength,
and laziness. He to whom the mj^steries of dactyl
and spondee were plain as a pikestaff, whom the ter-
rors of Xenophon could not appal, stood at the head
of the row, pale, weak, and 4ickable' to every other
boy in the class. The winning of a prize at the out-

HARCOURT AND PEATFIELD. 265

set of his school career by the youth Harcourt was a
mistake which he took care never again to repeat, so
greatly was he chagrined as he pressed his way back
to his place amidst mutterings of * crammer/ kittle
grind/ and like epithets significant of the contempt
in which he was held by his fellows.

A voyage to India was followed by a term at a
German university, and after that the young man
drifted to California, and entered the library in 1873.
He later engaged in newspaper work, and died in 1884
at San Francisco.

A strong man, and one of talent, was J. J. Peatfield,
born in Nottinghamshire, England, August 26, 1833.
His father, a conservative tory clergyman, educated
him for the church. He took his degree at Cambridge
in 1857, having graduated in the classical tripos. The
church being distasteful to him as a profession, he
obtained a tutorship, with occasional travel, the last
position of the kind being in a Russian family in St
Petersburg.

Peatfield was now twenty-nine years of age, and the
life he was leading did not satisfy him. He deter-
mined to emigrate. The gold discoveries in British
Columbia attracted his attention; and while he was
thinking of going thither, a college friend presented
the flattering prospects of gains to be derived from
cultivating cacao on the Atlantic seaboard of Central
America, and he finally concluded to make the latter
venture. Taking passage on board the steamship
Norwegian to Portland, Maine, he proceeded thence
by rail to New York, and after a fortnight's stay there
he went to Greytown, Nicaragua, in the schooner
George S. Adams.

The cacao-planting enterprise was a failure. The
cultivation of the tree had been tried there without
success years before, both by Americans and Europe-
ans. Nevertheless he remained in that vicinity for
two years, locating himself on the Serapique river.

266 SOME OF MY ASSISTANTS.

an affluent in Costa Kican territory of the San Juan,
He tried cotton-raising, as the price was very high
during the civil war in the United States, but the
excessive rains destroyed the crop. He then tried,
Hkewise, cacao and coffee. Kapid and luxuriant
growth attended every experiment, but the flowers of
the cacao-tree dropped off without fructifying; the
cotton rotted in the bolls; the coffee berries did not
ripen.

As there was nothing to stay for but the fever and
ague, which he did not want, about the middle of
1865 Mr Peatfield crossed the sierra to San Jose,
the capital of Costa Rica. He there accej)ted the
situation of book-keeper in a mercantile establish-
ment. In January 1868 he was appointed clerk and
translator to the legation at Guatemala, and two
years later, on the departure of Minister Corbett for
England, Peatfield was appointed British vice-consul
in Guatemala. Upon the death of Consul Wallis, of
Costa Rica, in whose charge the legation had been
left, Peatfield received from the foreign office, London,
the appointment of acting consul-general of Central
America. After that he held the consulship of
Guatemala for a time. Then his health began to
fail, and at the end of 1871 he resigned and left
Guatemala for San Francisco, where he arrived in
November.

A winter of teaching was followed by a hemor-
rhage from which he barely recovered. In August
1872 he obtained a lucrative position as book-keeper
and cashier of a mine owned by an English company
in White Pine, Nevada. His engagement concluded,
he went to Pioche, where sickness soon reduced him
to poverty. For ten weeks he lay in the hospital
suffering intensely with inflammatory rheumatism,
much of the time unable to move, and occasionally in-
sensible. One day, on recovering consciousness, he
was told by the physician that he could not live;
nevertheless he slowly recovered. Then he taught

BATES AND KEMP. 267

school a while; after which he returned to San
Francisco, where he nearly died from pneunaonia.
Recovery was followed by another period of teaching
and book-keeping, until February 1881, when he
entered the library, and soon becanae one of my
most valued assistants.

Alfred Bates, a native of Leeds, England, entered
the library after two years' work on TJie Commerce
and Industries of the PaciJiQ Coast ^ under its editor,
John S. Hittell. Mr Bates displayed the most ability
of any one of Mr Hittell's dozen assistants, and was
a valuable acquisition to my corps of workers. He
was born the 4th of May, 1840, his father being a
wool-stapler, who made a fortune during the railway
excitement of 1845-6, and had the misfortune to lose
it in the panic of 1847.

Alfred recollects of his childhood that he was over-
grown, weak, and always hungry. At the age of fif-
teen years he earned his own livelihood by teaching,
among other places in Marlborough college, at the
time the dean of Westminster being head-master, and
to whom he was private secretary in 1862. While
preparing for Cambridge the following year, he ac-
cepted a lucrative situation in Sidney, New South
Wales. Though his life there was by no means an
unhappy one, he suffered from ill health, being given
up for dead at one time by three doctors. Indeed,
animation was totally suspended for a time; and when
the spark of life revived, supposing at the first that
he was really dead, he says the sensation was by no
means disagreeable.

Invited by his brother to come to California and
take charge of a school, he made the passage by the
Penang, the first year after his arrival being occupied
in teaching.

Alfred Kemp, a most worthy man and earnest
worker, w^as born in October 1847, in England, hia

268 SOME OF MY ASSISTANTS.

father being a landed proprietor in Kent. Alfred was
educated for the army at a military school near Wool-
wich; but his father losing most of his property, the
young man was obliged to abandon his contemplated
career. In 18G9 he went to France to learn the lan-
guage, but the war with Germany breaking out, he
returned to England, narrowly escaping the siege.
After a clerkship from 1871 to 1874 in a commission
house, he engaged in business on his own account,
but making a loss of it, he came to California with his
wife and daughter, and in 1883 he jomed my corps
of laborers at the library.

Edward P. Newkirk, a native of New York state,
after passing an academical course, spent one year at
Fort Monroe artillery school, four years in a bank,
then joined the army in 18G1 and fought for the
union until 1865, among other service going through
the peninsular campaign with McClellan, and through
the campaigns of Sherman resulting in the capture
of Atlanta and Savannah; was twice wounded, and
reached the rank of captain. From November 1866
to November 1872 he served in Washington City,
Fort Delaware, and other stations. At the date last
mentioned he accompanied a detachment of his regi-
ment to California, and after a stay of two weeks at
the presidio of San Francisco, two of the batteries
were ordered to Alaska.

Newkirk landed at Sitka in the midst of a blinding
December snow-storm, after a rough passage of two
weeks by steam. After three years of monotonous
frontier life, during which the arrival of the monthly
mail or some small trading-vessel was the chief event,
he retired from the service and returned to San
Francisco. Not satisfied with what he had seen of
Alaska, he joined an arctic expedition in pursuit of
walrus, and found himself at midnight, on the 4th of
July, 1876, standing on a cake of ice with the sun in
full view. The vessel rounded Point Barrow, sailed

NEWKIRK AND COPPERTHWAITE. 269

two days east, was driven back by fogs and ice, and
while seeking more favorable grounds had her rudder
crushed by an ice-cake, which compelled her captain
to seek a sheltered cove for repairs. What appeared
a snug harbor was chosen, but it proved the vessel's
tomb. No sooner had the repairs been comjJeted,
than while the party were confident of an easy escape
from these inhospitable regions, a large iceberg
grounded directly in the mouth of the cove, shutting
the vessel in. For two weeks or more a close watch
was kept in the hope that a change of wind might
unlock the prison-door; but it came not, and the
party, abandoning their vessel, with hastily con-
structed sledges drew their provisions several miles to
open water, where they were picked up by the boats
of a returning whaler. On reaching San Francisco,
Mr Newkirk worked for a year or so with Mr Hittell
on Commerce and Industries, and then entered the
library.

Thomas Matthew Copperthwaite, born in Dublin in
1848, began his education in London, and thence pro-
ceeded to Belgium in 1859, where he entered the
college of La Sainte Trinite at Louvain, following in
that institution the classical course, and at the same
time gaining a practical knowledge of French and
Spanish.

His father about this time losing his fortune, the
son was obliged to discontinue his studies and earn his
livelihood. He went next to Berlin and engaged with
a furniture manufacturing company, remaining there
till 1868, meanwhile learning German. Then he en-
tered a commission house in Paris, and in 18G9 came
to California, where he obtained employment in a mill
and mining company near Georgetown, and subse-
quently for a time was teller in the Colusa County
bank.

In 1872 Mr Copperthwaite bought a tract of land,
going in debt for part, and finally losing the whole of

270 SOME OF MY ASSISTANTS.

it. In 1875 lie became a naturalized citizen of the
United States, being republican in politics. It was
thought that El Paso would become a great railroad
centre, and thither, after leaving the bank, Mr Cop-
perthwaite went, but only in time to be attacked by
malarial fever, which nearly took his life away. His
physician recommended his return to California,
where, his health being in due time restored, he went
to work in the library.

Ivan Petroff, born near St Petersburg in 1842, was
of great assistance to me in preparing Russian ma-
terial for the history of Alaska, and of the Russian
colony at Fort Ross, in CaUfornia. For one so lately
and so thoroughly a Russian, he had a remarkable com-
mand of English. He w^as likewise a good draughts-
man, and made for me many surveys and plans, also
visitin<2f Alaska and Washinofton in search of histor-
ical matter.

His life before entering my service was briefly as fol-
lows : The son of a soldier, and losing his mother in
infancy, at the age of five he was placed in the edu-
cational establishment of the first corps of cadets in
St Petersburg to prepare for a military career. At
the battle of Inkerman his father was killed, and as
the boy displayed a wonderful faculty for the acquisi-
tion of languages, he was transferred to the depart-
ment of oriental languages of the imperial academy
of sciences for training as military interpreter. An
impediment of speech, the result of serious and pro-
longed illness, put an end to the proposed career, but
the young orphan was permitted to continue his
studies in the oriental department, first serving as
amanuensis to Professor Bohttink during his labors
connected with the publication of a Sanskrit diction-
ary. Subsequently he was attached to another mem-
ber of the academy, M. Brosset, engaged at that period
in the study of Armenian antiquities and literature,
during which time he became so proficient in the Ian-

IVAN PETROFF. 271

gnage that lie was chosen by M. Brosset to accom-
pany him on a voyage of scientific exploration through
the ancient kingdoms of Georgia and Armenia.

Returned from this expedition, which occupied two
years, Petroff was sent with part of the material
there obtained to St Hilaire at Paris, to assist liini
in a proposed work on American antiquities; but St
Hilaire not being at that time ready to continue his
labors, Petroff determined to see more of the wide
world, and so in the midsummer 1861 set sail for New
York. ^ ^

So little attention had he hitherto given to the
English language, that on landing he could scarcely
make himself understood. After a temporary en-
gagement on the Courier cles Etats Unis, he joined the
union army, and by hard study was soon so far master
of the language as to be able to write it easily and
correctly, often writing letters for the soldiers as a
means of practice.

First private, then corporal, then he became ser-
geant and color-bearer, which rank he held when in
1864 the company to which he belonged, the Seventh
New Hampshire, was sent to Florida. Petroff took
part in all the battles fought by Butler's army, and
was twice wounded. After the capture of Fort Fisher
he was made lieutenant.

Satisfied that Alaska would one day become the
property of the United States, when mustered out of
service in July 1865 he returned to New York and
made a five years' engagement with the Russian-
American company to act as English and German
correspondent in the company's office at Sitka. De-
layed en route at San Francisco, he thought to im-
prove the time by making a horseback tour through
northern California, Idaho, Washington, and Oregon,
in which he narrowly escaped death at the hands of a
band of Shoshones, in encountering which his horse
was killed and he wounded in the arm. When lu
reached Sitka he found his place in the office filled;

272 SOME OF MY ASSISTANTS.

but he was given charge of a trading post at Cook
inlet, which position he held until the transfer of the
territory, when he went to Kodiak island and was
appointed acting custom-house officer to take charge
of the barkentine Constitution, which had been seized,
and with that vessel he arrived in San Francisco in
October 1870, and entered the library almost im-
mediately afterward.

William J. Carr and John H. Gilmour were two
young Englishmen of fine education and ability, in-
troduced by Hall McAllister. The latter had spent
most of his life in India, and was employed for several
years in the library.

Charles Welch was born and educated in San Fran-
cisco, perhaps the only native Californian among all
my workers. Though but a boy when he came to
the library, he soon made himself a useful member of
the corps, doing most faithfully and efficiently what-
ever was given him to do. For several years his
duties were those of what might be termed an assist-
ant librarian, a place that was by no means a sinecure,
and that could hardly have been better filled than by
Welch. He was subsequently transferred to our mer-
cantile establishment, in which for many years he
held a responsible position.

W. H. Benson was, in a sense, the successor of
Welch in the work of keeping the library in order,
attending to various and complicated details in the
routine of extracting material, and the cataloguing
of new matter that was constantly swelling the bulk
of the collection. He was an Englishman of good
education, whose experience had been marked by the
usual routine of adventurous wanderings. Benson
was an intelligent man, a hard worker, a fine penman,
and altogether a faithful and useful assistant; but
consumption had marked him for its victim, and ho
died in 1884. The duties of his position were subse-
quently performed by Newkirk and Kemp.

BOWMAN, GALAN, SIMPSON. 273

Amos Bowman was a stenographer of scientific at-
tainments, with some experience in government sur-
veys and mining explorations, who first aided me in
my northern tour of investigation, and later, for a
brief period, in hbrary work. Harry Larkin was an
English adventurer of good abilities, many accomplish-
ments, and an adventurous career, which was termi-
nated by his murder in California.

There was a class of men who possessed decided
talents in some directions, but whose lack of ability
as applied to my work it took me some time to dis-
cover. There was Galan, formerly governor of Lower
California, and Paton, an Irish captain who had seen
service in India.

Galan was in some respects a singular character.
He undertook to practise law in San Francisco, but
was unable to sustain himself. He was a middle-aged
man, medium height, dark-skinned, with a handsome
face and a quick, clear, bright, intelligent eye. He
conversed, not only fluently, but eloquently and learn-
edly, on almost any topic concerning Mexican or Cen-
tral American affairs, at any epoch of their history,
which might be started ; but let him undertake practi-
cal and exact work, and his powers failed him.

Thus it will be seen that although my assistants
were of marked and diversified abilities, I had not
at my command at all times the best material for my
purpose. On the whole, my tools were not of the lat-
est and best pattern ; and though this was no fault of
theirs, it threw the whole burden and responsibility
on me, where it remained from first to last, even my
best and most efficient assistants being able to prove
up the correctness of but a portion of the work, leav-
ing me to do the rest as best I was able.

Of Enrique Cerruti, Murray, and some others, I
say enough elsewhere. I might make mention of
scores of others, each of whom had his history, more
or less eventful, more or less strange. There was

Lit. Ind. 18

274 SOME OF MY ASSISTANTS.

Samuel L. Simpson, who came down from Oregon
and edited the Pacific coast readers for the firm ; a
young man of rare ability, though lacking somewhat
in steady application.

There were many of Spanish and Mexican origin,
not half of whose names I ever knew. Month after
month they plodded more or less diligently along, as
part of the great combination, directed perhaps by
Savage, Oak, or Nemos, and drawing their pay every
Saturday.

Of these, Vicente P. Gomez was one. A native of
Mexico, he came to California when a child, was sent
back to be educated, and came again with General
Micheltorena. His father was a merchant and a
ranchero here, and held an office under government.
The elder Gomez built the only sea-going vessel the
Spaniards ever attempted on the California shore.
Launches and lighters they had built, and the Rus-
sians had constructed small craft, but no Hispano-
Californian before or since. It was only twenty and
a half tons burden, and was called Peor es Nada^
''nothing would be worse," from which naming one
would think the owner was not very proud of it.
The younger Gomez had a wonderful memory, sup-
plemented with broad inventive faculties, with fine
conversational powers, and a fund of anecdote. He
wrote a beautiful hand, and spoke the most graceful
Spanish of any man in California. He was the Victor
of Bret Harte's Story of a Mine.

Besides laboring long and faithfully at the sur-
veyor's office extracting material from the archives,
he accompanied Mr Savage to Santa Clara, Salinas,
Monterey, and Santa Cruz, on the same mission.
He copied from the archives at all these places, and
knowing everybody, he was able to secure much out-
side information of early times. But further and far
more important than all this was the manuscript vol-
ume of 430 pages of his own reminiscences. While
extracting material for history, or in conversation,

MEXICAN WORKERS. 275

wherever he happened to be, whenever recollections
arose in his mind we had a man ready to take them
down. It was singular how it worked. He could
extract material well enough, but if left to write bis
own experiences he would never do it, but he could
talk fluently of his past, so that another could easily
write from his dictation. After the work of copying
from the archives was finished he was put to work in
the library, and definite topics given him to write
from his own knowledge, and in this way he suc-
ceeded quite well, and the result was the manu-
script volume before mentioned, a most magnificent
contribution to the historical literature of this coast,
and invaluable because it contains much knowledge
nowhere else found, and which but for this method
would have been forever lost.

Kosendo V. Corona was another good man. He
was a native of Topic, Mexico, and cousin of the Mexi-
can minister at Madrid. Educated as a civil eno^ineer
at Guadalajara, he came hither to perfect his education
and obtain employment. He assisted in extracting
material at the archbishop's library, and accompanied
Savage and Gomez to Santa Clara and the southern
coast.

Emilio Pina, a native of Chihuahua, was the son of
a distinguished jurist. He was employed in the li-
brary and at several of the missions copying and ex-
tracting material, before which time he was engaged
as editor, schoolmaster, and in the public service in
Mexico.

Labadie was a native of Mexico, of French parent-
age, and educated in France. While there the war
broke out, and he entered the army against Germany,
going in a private and coming out a sergeant. He
was finely educated, being among other things a good
painter and musician. In the mines of Mexico he
took the fever, and came to California for hcaltli and
improvement.

Manuel Fernandez Martinez was more French than

276 SOME OF MY ASSISTANTS.

Spanish in appearance. Sorcini was an educated
Mexican with an Italian father. Eldridgc was a
native Peruvian with an American father. He came
to Cahfornia in 1849, bringing a ship with him laden
with merchandise, but which was lost, vessel and cargo.
He was translator of the laws of California from Eng-
lish into Spanish for several years, and had a brother
also employed in the librarj'.

Martin Barientos, born in Chili, boasted his pure
Araucanian blood, being of that race of aboriginals
who were never conquered. He was a skilfid pen-
man, did some illuminated title-pages beautifully, and
could turn his hand to almost anvthinor beinor a
printer, writer, and singer. Indeed, he came to Cali-
fornia from South America as one of a French opera-
bouffe company, and often appeared upon the stage
here.

Among my stenographers were some not merely
mechanical men, but possessed of the spirit of research
sufficiently to gather and write out for me much fresh
and valuable information. Amongr these was Mr
Leighton, from Boston, who labored for me most
successfully for several years.

Thus I might go on enumerating and describing
until half a dozen chapters were filled. Those named
are few as compared with those not named ; but I have
mentioned enough to give some idea of the wonderful
variety of nationality and talent employed upon this
work, not the least wonderful part of which was the
strangle coincidents brinofins" topfether so heteroQfeneous
an assembly; and yet, under the perfect system and
organization which we finally succeeded in establish-
ing, all laboring with regularity and harmony.

CHAPTER XII.

MY FIRST BOOK.

Two strong angels stand by the side of History as heraldic supporters:
the angel of research on the left hand, that must read millions of dusty
parchments, and of pages blotted with lies ; the angel of meditation on the
right' hand, that must cleanse these lying records with fire, even as of old
the draperies of asbestos were cleansed, and must quicken them into regen-
erated life. T-i r\ •

How many of the works of authors may be at-
tributed purely to accident! Had not Shakespeare
been a play-actor we should have had no Shakespeare's
plays. Had not Bunyan been imprisoned and Milton
blind we miglit look in vain for the Pilgrims Progress
and Paradise Lost. Robert Pearse Gillies says of
Sir Walter Scott, "I have always been persuaded that
had he not chanced, and in those days it was a rare
chance, to get some German lessons from a competent
professor, and had he not also chanced to have Lenora
and The Wild Huntsman played before him as exercises,
we should never have had The Lay of tlie Last Minstrel
or The Lady of the Lake." More than any other one
effort, Thackeray's writing for Punch taught him
wherein his strength lay. The great satirist at the
beginning of his literary career was not successful,
and it is a question w^hether he ever would have
been but for a certain train of circumstances which
crowded application upon his genius. Apelles, unable
to delineate to his satisfaction the foam of Alexander's
horse, dashed his brush against the canvas in angry
despair, when lol upon the picture, effected thus by
accident, appeared what had baffled his cunningest
Kskill. Turning-points in life are not always mere

(277)

278 MY FIRST BOOK.

accident. Often they are the result of teachings or
inborn aspirations, and always they are fraught with
some moral lesson of special significance.

Although my Native Races cannot be called a chance
creation, its coming as my first work was purely
accident. Following my general plan, wdiich was a
series of works on the western half of North America,
I must of necessity treat of the aborigines at some
time. But now, as ever, I was intent only on history,
whose fascinations increased with my ever increasing
appreciation of its importance. All our learning we
derive from the past. To-day is the pupil of yesterday,
this year of last year; drop by drop the activities of
each successive hour are distilled from the experiences
of the centuries.

And the moment was so opportune. Time enough
had elapsed for these western shores to have a history,
yet not enough, since civilization lighted here, to lose
any considerable portion of it. Then, strange as it
may seem, from the depths of despair I would some-
times rise to the firm conviction tliat with my facilities
and determined purpose I could not only do this work,
but that I could save to these Pacific States more
of their early incidents than had been preserved to
other nations; that I could place on record annals ex-
ceptionally complete and truthful; that I could write
a history which as a piece of thorough work, if un-
accompanied by any other excellence, would be given
a place ai, ong the histories of the world.

Nor was the idea necessarily the offspring of egoism.
I do not say that I regarded this country as the
greatest whose history had ever been written, or my-
self as a very able historian. Far, very far from it.
There were here no grand evolutions or revolutions
of mankind, no might}^ battles affecting the world's
political balance, no ten centuries of darkness and
non-progressional torpidity, no pageantry of kings, or
diplomacy of statesmen, or craft of priestly magnates
vv^ith which to embellish my pages and stir to glowing

PRACTICAL HISTORY. 279

admiration the interest of my readers. The incidents
of history here were in a measure tame, and for that
reason all the more difficult of dramatic presentation.
The wars of conquest were mostly with savages, or
with nations palsied by superstition; and since the
conquest no such spasms of progress have been made
as to command the world's attention or admiration
for any length of time. Not that fighting is the
fittest subject for record, or that without social con-
vulsions the nation has no history. The time has come
when war should be deemed the deepest disgrace, a
brutal way of settling differences, and the evolutions of
arts, industries, and intellect the fairest flowers of prog-
ress. That which is constant is history, that which is
elevating and ennobling, no less than debasing war and
social disruptions. The philosopliic or didactic writer
of the present day is of opinion that to form correct
conceptions of a people one should know something of
the state of society and institutions that evolved them.
The development of a nation's institutions, their struct-
ure and functions, are of no less importance than a
narrative of a nation's fortunes in other respects, or
the sayings and doings of its great men. Yet, if ever
fancy whispered I could write well, I had but to read
a page of Shakespeare, whose pencil was dipped in
colors of no earthly extraction, and whose every
finished sentence is a string of pearls, and the foun-
tains of my ambition would dwindle to insignificance.
What were my miserable efforts beside the conceptions
of a Dante, the touch of a Dord, the brilliant imagery
of a St John! How powerful are words to him who
can handle them, and yet how insignificant in the
hands of weaklings to describe these subtile shades of
human qualities ! What are the many thousand differ-
ent words, made by the various combinations of the
twenty- six letters of the alphabet, and of which many
more might be made, since the possible combination
of these words into others and into sentences is prac-
tically infinite — what are all these word-fitting possi-

280 ^ MY FIRST BOOK.

bilities in the hands of a bungler, or of one who lacks
the ideas to call them forth and array them ? And yet,
were the scope of human language a thousand times
more varied, and there should arise one capable of
wielding this enlarged vocabulary, the varied thought
and feeling incident to humanity would still be but
poorly expressed.

Not only the thoughts of a great poet but the
language in which his thoughts are clothed display
his genius. Undertake to express his idea in words
of your own, and you will find its essence evaporated.
Coleridge says you " might as well think of pushing
a brick out of the wall with your forefinger as at-
tempt to remove a word out of any of the finislied
passages of Shakespeare." Become possessed with
an idea, and you will then find language according
to your ability to express it; it is poverty of ideas
that makes men complain of the poverty of language.
In the writings of Shakespeare imagination and ex-
perience, wisdom, wit, and charity, commingle and
play upon and into each other until simple words
glow like fire illuminated by supernatural signifi-
cance.

And as thought becomes elevated, the simpler and
plainer becomes expression. The seed of eloquence
lies in the conception of the thought, and the sim-
plicity with which it is expressed gives the sublime
soul-stirring power. It is significant that the books
which have held their highest place in literature for
centuries have been written in the purest and simplest
Saxon. The English language as used by Shake-
speare and Milton shows amazing strength, flexibility,
delicacy, and harmony.

Thus the billows of despondency passed over me,
and at times it seemed as if my life and all my labors
v^^ere empty air. Overwhelmed by the magnitude of
my task, I sat for days and brooded, heart-sick and
discouraged. What profiteth me this heavy labor?

INEXORABLE NECESSITY. 281

My mind is vapid, my nerves unstrung; I have not
the strength, physical or intellectual, for a work of
such magnitude. I may succeed or I may fail. In
either case some will approve, others will ridicule.
And what is approval or ridicule to me? Even if
success comes, what good will it do me? I do not
profess to love my race or country better than another.
1 do this work to please neither God nor man, but
only myself. It is based on a selfishness almost as
broad as that of patriots and propagandists. I must
toil on, denying myself companionship, which indeed
was small hardship; I must deprive myself of every
pleasure, even of the blessed air and sunshine, the
sweetest gifts of nature, and which are freely bestowed
upon the meanest of created things. These and nine
tenths of the joys of association and recreation I must
yield to musty books and dusty garret; I must hug
this heaviness, and all because of an idea. All the
powers of mind and body must be made captive to
this one purpose; passion, prejudice, and pleasure,
where they interfere. And yet must the worker often
grope in vain for the power of mental concentration,
while progress laughs mockingly. For such work,
such self-denial, I cannot take my pay in praise.
There must be some higher, some nobler aim. Ah!
these failures, these heart -sicknesses. But write!
write! write! The fiend is at my elbow and I must
write. Maudlin stuff it may be, but I must write it
down. Death alone can deliver me from these toils,
can open a wide current for my stagnant thoughts
and leaden sensibilities. And my prayer shall be. Let
me die like Plato, at my table, pen in hand, and bo
buried among the scenes of my labors.

There have been men, and many of them, who felt
that they must write, and yet who wrote with difficulty,
and from no desire for fame, who wrote neither from a
pretended anxiety to make men better nor under neces-
sity. Why, then, did they write ? Perhaps from the
pressure of genius, perhaps from a lack of common sense.

282 MY FIRST BOOK.

No person knows less of the stuff he is made of than
he who takes pen in hand and has nothing t say.

What profiteth it me? again I ask. M )ney? I
shall die a poor man, and my children will have only
their father's folly for an inheritance. Does God pay
for such endeavor? I should have more heart did I
but feel assured x3f some compensation hereafter, for
this life seems pretty well lost to me. But even such
assurance is denied me. Posthumous fame is but a
phantom, the off-float from scarcely more solid con-
temporaneous opinion, the ghost of a man's deeds. In
looking over my writings I sometimes doubt whom I
serve most, Christ or Belial, or whether either will
acknowledge me his servant. And yet the half is
not told, for if it were, with the good Cid Hamete I
might be applauded less for what I have written than
for what I have omitted to write.

There is a quality of intellectual application that
will never be satisfied with less than grand results.
It is enough for some money-makers to gather and
hoard, to feel themselves the possessors of wealth,
their power increased by the power their dollars will
measure; others such toad-life fails to satisfy; there
must be with them a birth, a creation, as the fruit of
their labor. And amidst such labors many cares are
dissipated. As the Chinese say, ''The dog in his
kennel barks at his lieas, but the dog that is hunting
does not feel them." Labor pursued as pleasure is
light, yet he who seeks only pleasure in his work will
never find it. Pleasure is a good chance acquaintance,
but a bad companion. It is the useful, the beneficial
alone which gives true enjoyment, and in the attain-
ment of this there is often much pain. Yet if life
like the olive is a bitter fruit, when pressed it yields
sweet oil, Jean Paul Pichter would say.

It does not make much difference whether one re-
ceives impressions through the ears like Madame de
Stael, or through the eyes like Ruskin, so long as one
embraces opportunities and utilizes the results. To

LAW OF COMPENSATION". 283

read for my own pleasure or benefit was not sufficient
for me; it was not consistent with the aims and in-
dustries of my past Hfe, as I have elsewhere observed,
which were never content unless there appeared some-
thing tangible as the result of each year's endeavor.
Hence the melancholia which Albert Diirer pictures,
and which otherwise would have devoured me, 1 never
felt to that degree of intensity experienced by many
students. Speaking of this brooding melancholy,
which is so apt to be inseparable from the lives of
severe workers, Mr Hamerton says: ^^I have known
several men of action, almost entirely devoid of in-
tellectual culture, who enjoyed an unbroken flow of
animal energy, and were clearly free from the melan-
choly of Diirer, but I never intimately knew a really
cultivated person who had not suffered from it more
or less; and the greatest sufferers were the most con-
scientious tliinkers and students."

Then another train of thought would take posses-
sion of me, and I would argue to myself that after all,
in the absence of a quality, material or acquired, there
is always compensation, if not complete at least par-
tial. Public speaking is an art wdiich I have often
coveted. To hold in rapt attention a thousand listeners
whose presence and sympathy should feed fires radi-
atino^ in dazzlinix conceits is a fascination often risino^
before the student of ardent longings, and most vividly
of all before him in whom such talents are lamenta-
bly absent. Yet the rule is, to which I know excep-
tions, that the brilliant speaker is seldom the best
scholar or the most profound thinker.

It is told of the vocalist Lablache that by facial
expression he could represent a thunder-storm in a
most remarkable manner. The gloom which over-
shadowed the face, as clouds the sky, deepened into
darkness, then lowered as an angry tempest. Light-
ning flashed from the winking eyes, twitching the
muscles of the face and mouth, and thunder shook
the head. Finally the storm died away, and the re-

284 MY FIRST BOOK.

turning sun illumined the features and wreathed the
face in smiles. There is something irresistible in the
tone and manner of an eloquent speaker; likewise in
the flowing thoughts of a graceful writer. As in meet-
ing a stranger, we are at first attracted by the dress
and polish which conceal character rather than by
qualities of the head and heart, of which we know
nothing. But since science now so often strips from
the kernel of things their soft and comely covering,
history is no longer willing to sacrifice for meat life,
or for the body raiment.

Following violent exercise, mental or physical,
comes the reaction; sinking of spirit follows eleva-
tion of spirit. Night succeeds day in mental efforts,
and dark indeed is the night of the intellectual life.
The men whom we regard most happy and success-
ful are not free from this blue-sickness; for, passing
the extreme cases of morbid melancholy such as
was displayed by Wordsworth, Byron, and Shelley,
the curses attending the imaginative temperament
are too plainly palpable even in such happy produc-
tions as Werther and Maud. The intensity and ex-
citement which produce a poem, as a matter of course
can be but transient; that which follows too often
causes the poet to appear as much less than man, as
in the authorship he appeared to be more than man.

Books are a mighty enginery. Yet before men
became bookish there issued from them an influence
subtile as air and strong as the tempest. To the sur-
vivors of the Athenian host annihilated at Syracuse
it was ordained that any prisoner who could recite
passages or scenes from the dramas of Euripides
should be taken from the quarries and kindly treated
in Sicilian houses. What weapon was here! One
little dreamed of, even by him who held it.

Literary activity manifested itself in the days of
the empire, when for two hundred years there had
been a steady flow of wealth from all parts of the
civilized world into the lap of Rome. Refined tastes

mCARNATION OF THE IDEA. 285

followed that love of enjoyment and display which is
the first fruits of money, and with luxury came culture.
In gorgeous palaces were crowded the treasures of
Hellenic civilization; manuscripts and works of art,
gathered by Greek collectors, found their way into
the libraries of Asia and Europe. In Rome, two
thousand years ago, when an author about to read his
manuscript appeared before the audience, he some-
times arrayed himself in a gayly colored hood, ear
bandages, and a comforter about his neck, hoping by
thus decking his person to give the greater efficacy
to his discourse. So runs fashion. In the davs of
chivalry learning was accounted almost a disgrace.
Priests might know a little without loss of caste, but
women and churls had other and more highly esteemed
uses. All else were knights-errant, and if one of these
could read he kept the knowledge of the accomplish-
ment hidden from his fellows. To the soldier of the
sixteenth century money-making was a low occupation,
especially if it involved work. They might kill for
gold but they must not dig for it. Now any one may
make money, even at the cost of damaged honor, and
all is well; yet few understand how a sane man can
eschew fortune, pleasure, and indeed fame, for the
satisfaction of gratifying his intellectual tastes. Mrs
Tuthill says in an introduction to one of Ruskin's
volumes : " The enthusiasm of a man of genius appears
to the multitude like madness."

Before my cooler judgment my self-imposed task
presented itself in this form : Next after gathering,
already partially accomplished, was the acquisition of
power over the mass. From being slave of all this
knowledge, I must become master. This was already
partially accomplished by means of the index, as be-
fore explained, which placed at my command the in-
stantaneous appearance of whatever my authors had
said on any subject. To know anything perfectly,
one must know many things perfectly. Then surely

286 MY FIRST BOOK.

with all the evidence extant on any historical point
or incident before me I should be able with sufficient
study and thought to determine the truth, and in plain
language to write it down. My object seemed to be
the pride and satisfaction it would afford me to im-
prove somewhat the records of my race, save some-
thing of a nation's history, which but for me would
drop into oblivion; to catch from the mouths of living
witnesses, just ready to take their final departure,
important facts explaining new incidents and strange
experiences; to originate and perfect a system by
which means alone this history could be gathered and
written; to lay the corner-stone of this fair land's
literature while the land was yet young and ambitious,
and accomplish in one generation what by the slower
stage-coach processes hitherto employed even by the
latest and best historians would have occupied ten
generations, or indeed from the very nature of things
might never have been accomplished at all. Here-
upon turns all progress, all human advancement. One
of the main differences between civilization and sav-
agism is that one preserves its experiences as they
accumulate and the other does not. Savagism ceases
to be savagism and becomes civilization the moment
the savage begins a record of events.

Mine was a great work that could be performed
by a small man. As Beaumarchais says: ''Mediocre
et rampant, et Ton arrive a tout." Vigorous and per-
sistent effort for twenty or thirty years, with sufficient
self-abnegation, a hberal outlay of money, and an
evenly balanced mind, not carried away by its en-
thusiasm, could accomplish more at this time than
would be later possible under any circumstances. And
although in my efforts like the eagle, which mistook
the bald head of ^schylus for a stone, I sometimes
endeavored to crack the shell of my tortoise on the
wrong subject; and although much of the time the
work was apparently stationary, yet in reality lil^e a
glacier it was slowly furrowing for itself a path.

ENNOBLING ENDEAVOR. 287

"Good aims not always make good books," says
Mrs Browning. So with mind well tempered and
ambition held in strict control, I determined to work
and wait. Some men live in their endeavors. Unless
they have before them intricate work they are not
satisfied. The moment one difficult undertakinof is
accomplished they straightway pine for another.
Great pleasure is felt in finishing a tedious and diffi-
cult piece of work, but long before one w^as done by
me I had a dozen other tedious and difficult pieces
planned. Early in my efforts the conquest of Mexico
attracted my attention. This brilliant episode lay
directly in my path or I never should have had the
audacity to grapple wdth it after the graceful and
philosophic pen of Prescott had traced its history.
This story of the conquest possessed me with a thrill-
ing interest which might almost carry inspiration ; and
before me lay not only the original authorities, with
much new and unused collateral information, but com-
plete histories of that epoch, in English, Spanish,
French, Italian, and German — careful histories from
able and eloquent pens. These might be the guide
of the literary fledgling. Ah ! there was the trouble.
Had there been any need for such a work; had the
work not been done better than I could hope to do it;
had I not these bright examples all before me, seem-
ingly in derision of my puny efforts, I should have
been better able to abstract the facts and arrange
them in readable order.

My first concern was the manner of fitting words
together; the facts seemed for the moment of second-
ary consideration. To array in brilliant colors empty
ideas was nearer model history-writing than the
sharpest philosophy in homely garb. The conse-
quence was, this mountain of my ambition after hard
labor brought forth a few chapters of sententious
nothings, which a second writing seemed only to con-
fuse yet more, and which after many sighings and
heart-sinkings I tore up, and cleared my table of

288 MY FIRST BOOK.

authorities on the grand conquest. The result brought
to my mind the experience of Kant, who for the second
edition of his Critique of Pure Reason rewrote some
parts of it in order to give them greater perspicuity,
though in reahty the explanation was more enigmat-
ical than what had been first written.

Now, I said, will I begin at the beginning, where I
should have begun. The Pacific States territory, as
by this time I had it marked, extended south to the
Atrato river, so as to include the whole of the
isthmus of Darien. I would notice the first appear-
ance of the Spaniards along these shores. I would
make my first volume the conquest of Darien, bring-
ing the history down from the discovery by Columbus
and the first touchinsf of the North American conti-
nent at the Isthmus by Rodrigo de Bastidas in 1501,
to about the year 1530, to be followed by a chapter
on the expedition of Pizarro from Panamd to Peru.

So I entered upon a thorough study of the discov-
ery of America, of society and civilization in Europe
at and prior to the discovery; paying particular atten-
tion to Spanish character and institutions. At this
time I was almost wholly occupied in handling the
ideas of others ; but it was not long before I began to
have ideas of my own; just as Spinoza in writing a
synopsis of the system of Descartes threw into the
principles of Cartesian philosophy much original
thought and speculation while scarcely conscious of
it. I wrote a long dissertation for what I conceived
a fit introduction to a history of the Pacific States.
To follow this introduction, with some assistance I
prepared a summary of voyages and discovery from
the earliest times to about 1540.

Over these two summaries I labored long and faith-
fully, spending fully six months on them with all the
assistance I could utilize. Oftentimes work arose
where assistance was impracticable; I could perform
it better alone: with a dozen good men at my elbow
I have nevertheless written many volumes alone,

UNAVAILABLE HELP. 289

taking out all notes myself, because I could not
profitably employ help. And further than this, I
often carried on no less than four or five distinct
works pari passu.

To my help in writing this introduction I called a
man well informed in all mediaeval knowledge. In all
science and regarding all schools his opinions were
modern, 3^et he could readily explain the theories of
those who held opposite doctrines. Surely, I thought,
in preparing such an essay as I desired such a person
would be invaluable. So I instructed him to study
the subject, particularly that part of it relating to
literature, language, and learning, with the view of
his gathering some pertinent facts for me. He read,
and read, eagerly devouring all he could lay hands on.
And he would have continued reading to this day had
I been willing to pay him his salary regularly for it.
He liked to read. And I said to myself, this is
glorious! Surely, as the result of such enthusiasm I
shall have a bushel of invaluable notes.

Meanwhile I labored hard myself, studying care-
fully over two hundred volumes bearing upon the
subject, taking notes and committing my ideas to
paper. The trouble was — as was always the trouble —
to limit the sketch, yet make it symmetrical and
complete. Occasionally I would urge my assistant
to bring his investigations to some practical result,
for after reading two months he had not half a dozen
pages of written matter to show.

" Let me get it fairly into my head," said he, ''and
I will soon commit it to paper."

And so for another month he continued the stufiing
process, until I became tired of it, and told him plainly
to give me what he had gathered and leave the sub-
ject. A fortnight later he handed me about thirty
pages of commonplace information, in which there
was hardly a note that proved any addition to my
own researches. And this was the result of his three
months' hard work, for he did really apply himself

Lit. Ind. 19

290 MY FIRST BOOK.

diligently to the task, and thought all the time that
he was making progress until he came to the sum-
ming up, which disappointed him as much as myself.
While engaged in the study his mind had absorbed a
vast amount of information, which might some time
prove valuable to him, but was of no use to me. And
so it often happened, particularly at the first, and be-
fore I had applied a thorough system of drilling;
months and years were vainly spent by able persons
in the effort to extract material for me. With regard
to the introduction, as was yet often the case, I had
vague conceptions only of what I should require, for
the reason that I could not tell what shape the sub-
ject would assume when wrought out. This was the
case with many a chapter or volume. Its character I
could not altogether control; nay, rather than control
it I would let fact have free course, and record only
as directed by the subject itself. One is scarcely fit
to write upon a subject until one has written much
upon it. That which is I would record; yet that
which is may be differently understood by different
persons. I endeavored always to avoid planting my-
self upon an opinion, and saying thus and so it is,
and shall be, all incidental and collateral facts being
warped accordingly; rather would I write the truth,
let the result be what it might.

He who aims at honesty will never leave a subject
on which he discourses without an effort at a judicial
view, or without an attempt to separate himself from
his subject and to marshal the arguments on the other
side. He will contradict his own statement, and demur
at his conclusions, until the matter is so thoroughly
sifted in his own mind that a highly prejudiced view
would be improbable. He who warps fact or fails to
give in evidence against himself is not entitled to our
respect. The writer of exact history must lay aside,
so far as possible, his emotional nature. Knowing
that his judgment is liable to prejudice, and that it is
impossible to be always conscious of its presence, he

THE TREACHERY OF BIAS. 291

will constantly suspect himself and rigidly review his
work. If there was one thing David Hume piqued
himself on more than another, it was his freedom
from bias; and yet the writings of no historian un-
cover more glaring prejudices than do his in certain
places. A classicist of the Diderot and Voltaire school,
he despised too heartily the writings of the monkish
chroniclers to examine them. Macaulay sacrificed
truthfulness to an epigrammatic style, the beauty and
force of which lay in exaggeration. It has always
been my custom to examine carefully authorities cur-
rently held of little or no value. Not that I ever de-
rived, or expected to derive, much benefit from them,
but it was a satisfaction to know ever}' thing that had
been written on the subject I was treating. And as
for bias, though not pretending to be free from it —
who that lives is? — yet were I ever knowingly to reach
the point where pride of opinion was preferred before
truth, I should wish from that moment to lay down
my pen. Should ever any obstacle or temptation inter-
pose to warp the facts before me; should ever fear,
favor, conventionality, tradition, or a desire for praise
or popularity, or any other vile contravention, wittingly
come between me and plain unadulterated truth, I
should say, Palsied be the hand that writes a lie I

The introduction to my history was exclusively my
own theme; in some subjects others might to some
extent participate with me, but not in this. Hence,
during the fourteen weeks my really talented and
intelligent assistant was floundering in a sea of erudi-
tion, with little or nothing available in the end to
show for it, I myself had taken out material from
which I easily wrote three hundred pages, though
after twice re-arranging and rewriting I reduced it
one half, eliminated half of what was left, and printed
the remainder.

To form a critical estimate of our own literary
ability is impossible. "It is either very good or very
bad, I don't know which," sighed Hawthorne as he

292 MY FIRST BOOK.

placed in the hands of a friend the manuscript of
his Scarlet Letter. It is often more difficult to form
a just opinion of the character or ability of a long
esteemed friend than of an ordinary acquaintance; it
is more difficult to form a critical estimate of a con-
temporary than of a writer of the past. As Cer-
vantes says: "Porque no ay padre ni madre a quien
sus hijos le parezcan feos: y en los que lo son del
entendimiento, corremos este engano." Did not Jean
Paul Richter, with faith in himself, labor in the
deepest poverty for ten long years before his genius
was even recognized? Who are our great men of
to-day? Blinded by the dust of battle, if we have
them we cannot see them. Our children and grand-
children will tell; we do not know. The current of
passing impressions, the record of contemporaneous
opinion, differ widely from the after judgments of
history. "Yet the judgment of history," says one,
*' must be based on contemporaneous evidence."

In all this the failure of certain of my assistants to
prove profitable to my work was a source of small
anxiety to me as compared with my own failures. It
was what I could do with my own brain and fingers,
and that alone, which gave me pleasure. " Not what I
have, but what I do is my kingdom," says Teufels-
drockh. If by securing help I might accomplish more,
well ; but the work itself must be mine alone, planned
by me and executed by me.

And now was fully begun this new life of mine, the
old life being dead; a sea of unborn experiences which
I prayed might be worth the sailing over, else might
I as well have ceased to be ere myself embarking.
This change of life was as the birth of a new creature,
a baptism in a new atmosphere. With the chrysalis
of business was left the ambition of ordinary acquisi-
tion, so that the winged intellect might rise into the
glorious sunshine of yet nobler acquisition. The
wealth which might minister to sensual gratification
was made to subserve the wealth of intellectual grati-

TRIUMPH AND FAILURE. 293

fication. Literature is its own recompense. "The
reward of a good sentence is to have written it," says
Higginson. And again, "the Hterary man must love
his art, as the painter must love painting, out of all
proportion to its rewards; or rather, the delight of
the work must be its own reward." Ten thousand
since Hippocrates have said that art is longer than
life. Whatever I undertook to do seemed long, in-
terminably long it seemed to me. In the grammar
of mankind it requires nearly half a century of study
to learn that the present tense of life is now. Nay,
not only is the present tense now, but the present is
the only tense; the past for us is gone; the future,
who shall say that it is his?

Looking back over the past my life lies spread
before me in a series of lives, a succession of deaths
and new life, until I feel myself older than time,
though young and hopeful in my latest, newest life.
And each life has its individual growth. The thought-
ful student of books is an endogenous plant, growing
from the inside; the man of the world is the exoge-
nous, or outside-grower. Each has its advantage; the
inside-growers are cellular and fibrous, while the out-
side-growers are woody and pithy.

I had now become fully imbued with the idea that
there was a work to do, and that this was my work.
I entered upon it with relish, and as I progressed it
satisfied me. The truth is, I found myself at this
time nearer the point reached by Gibbon when he
said, "I was now master of my style and subject, and
while the measure of my daily performance was en-
larged, I discovered less reason to cancel or correct."
By reason of the late soul-storms, through the clear
dry atmosphere of my present surroundings, the dis-
tant mountain of toilsome ascent was brought near
and made inviting.

Following a fit of despondency, a triumph was like
the dancing of light on the icy foliage after a gloomy
storm. In planning and executing, in loading my

294 MY FIRST BOOK.

mind and discharging it on paper, in finding outlet
and expression to pent thought, in the healthful exer-
cise of my mental faculties, I found relief such as I
had never before experienced, relief from the cor-
roding melancholy of stifled aspirations, and a pleasure
more exquisite than any I had hitherto dreamed of
There is a pivot on which man's happiness and un-
happiness not unevenly balance. How keen this
enjoyment after an absence or break of any kind in
my labors. Back to my work, my sweet work, sur-
rounded by wife and children; away from hates and
heart-burnings, from brutish snarlings, law courts, and
rounds of dissipating society; back to the labor that
fires the brain and thrills the heart. For weeks after
a period of business and society desiccation, the lite-
rary worker can do little else than plant himself in his
closet, day after day, until he again in some degree
becomes filled with his subject.

Hermonitas thought he might achieve virtue, as if
by scaling. a mountain, and reach the top in twenty
years. " But," said he, " if once attained, one minute
of enjoyment on the summit will fully recompense me
for all the time and pains."

Let the world wag. There might be wars, convul-
sions, earthquakes, epidemics; there might be busi-
ness or social troubles, none of them should come
nigh so long as I had my library and my labors in
which to hide myself My mind had hungered for
food, and had found it.

" The consciousness of a literary mission," says
Stoddard, ^^is an agreeable one ; for however delusive
it may be, it raises its possessor for the time being
above his fellows, and places him in his own estima-
tion among the benefactors of his race." With Pliny
I can heartily say, '^ I find my joy and solace in litera-
ture. There is no gladness that this cannot increase,
no sorrow that it cannot lessen."

This, however, may be all very well for the sorrow,
but it is bad for the literature. Yet Schubert says:

-♦ A SOMBRE SUBJECT. 295

^' Grief sharpens the understanding and strengthens
the soul, whereas joy seldom troubles itself about the
former, and makes the latter either effeminate or
frivolous." Sorrow may drive a man to study, as hun-
ger does to labor, but as labor can be better performed
when the body is not overcome by hunger, so litera-
ture prospers best when the heart is free from grief.

Though ever steadfast in my purpose, I was often
obliged to change plans. I kept on, however, at
the history until I had completed the first volume,
until I had written fully the conquest of Darien and
the conquest of Peru — until I had rewritten the
volume, the first writing not suiting me. This I did,
taking out even most of the notes myself But long
before I had finished this volume I became satisfied
that something must be done with the aborigines.
Wherever I touched the continent with my Spaniards
they were there, a dusky, disgusting subject. I did
not fancy them. I would gladly have avoided them.
I was no archaeologist, ethnologist, or antiquary, and
had no desire to become such. My tastes in the
matter, however, did not dispose of the subject. The
savages were there, and there was no help for me ; I
must write them up to get rid of them.

Nor was their proper place the general history, or
any of the several parts thereof; nor was it the place
to speak of them where first encountered. It w,ould
not do to break off a narrative of events in order to
describe the manners and customs, or the language,
or the mythology of a native nation. The reader
should know something of both peoples thus intro-
duced to each other before passing the introduction;
he should know all about them.

Once settled that the natives must be described in
a work set apart for them, the question arose. How
should they be treated? Uppermost in the mind
when the words 'Indian' and 'Digger' appeared were
the ragged, half-starved, and half-drunken prowlers

296 MY FIRST BOOK.

round the outskirts of civilization, cooped in reserva-
tions or huddled in missions; and a book on them
would treat of their thefts, massacres, and capture.
Little else than raids, fightings, and exterminations
we heard concerning them; these, coupled with op-
probrious epithets which classed them as cattle rather
than as human beings, tended in no wise to render
the subject fascinating to me. Indeed I never could
bring my pen to write the words ' buck,' 'squaw,' or
^ Digger,' if I could help it. The first two are
vulgarisms of the lowest order; the third belongs to
no race or nation in particular, but was applied indis-
criminately to the more debased natives of California
and Nevada.

In fact the subject was not popularly regarded as
very interesting, unless formed into a bundle of
thrilling tales, and that was exactly what I would
not do. Battles and adventures belonged to history
proper; here was required all that we could learn of
them before the coming of the Europeans: some
history, all that they had, but mostly description.
They should be described as they stood in all their
native glory, and before the withering hand of civil-
ization was laid upon them. They should be de-
scribed as they were first seen by Europeans along
the several paths of discovery, by the conquerors of
Darien, Costa Rica, Nicaragua, Guatemala, and
Mexico, during the first half of the sixteenth century;
by the missionaries to the north; by the American
fur-hunters, the French Canadian trappers, the Hud-
son's Bay Company's servants, and the Russian voy-
agers and seal -catchers on the shores of Alaska;
also by circumnavigators and travellers in various
parts — thus the plan presented itself to my mind.

As a matter of course, much personal investiga-
tion in such a work was impossible. For the purpose
of studying the character and customs of hundreds of
nations and tribes I could not spend a lifetime with
each; and to learn the six hundred and more dialects

DESCRIBING THE NATIVES. 297

which I found on these shores was impracticable,
even had they all been spoken at the time of my
investigations. I must take the word of those who
had lived among these people, and had learned during
the three centuries of their discovering whatever was
known of them.

Spreading before me the subject with hardly any
other guide than practical common-sense, I resolved
the question into its several divisions. What is it we
wish to know about these people? I asked myself.
First, their appearance, the color of the skin, the text-
ure of the hair, form, features, physique. Then there
were the houses in which they lived, the food they
ate, how they built their houses, and obtained and
preserved their food, their implements and weapons;
there were ornaments and dress to be considered, as
well as many other questions, such as what constituted
wealth with them; their government, laws, and re-
ligious institutions; the power and position of rulers,
and the punishment of crimes; the arts and intel-
lectual advancement; family relations, husband and
wife, children, slaves; the position of woman, in-
cluding courtship, marriage, polygamy, childbirth, and
chastity; their amusements, dances, games, feasts,
bathing, smoking, drinking, gambling, racing; their
diseases, treatment of the sick, medicine-men; their
mourning, burial, and many other like topics relative
to life and society among these unlettered denizens of
this blooming wilderness.

Manners and customs being the common term em-
ployed by ethnologists for such description, unable
to find, after careful study and consideration of the
question, a better one, I adopted it. The first division
of my subject, then, was the manners and customs
of these peoples. But here a difficulty arose. In
points of intellectual growth and material progress,
of relative savagism and civilization, there were such
wide differences between the many nations of the vast
Pacific seaboard that to bring them all together would

298 MY FIRST BOOK.

make an incongruous mass, and to fit them to one
plan would be far-fetched and impracticable.

For example, there were the snake-eating Sho-
shones of Utah, and the cloth-makers and land-tillers
of the Pueblo towns of New Mexico; there were
the blubber-eating dwellers of the subterranean dens
of Alaska, and the civilized city-builders of the
Mexican table-land; the coarse brutal inhabitants of
British Columbia, and the refined and intelligent
Mayas and Quiches of Central America. What had
these in common to be described more than Arab,
Greek, and African?

Obviously there must be some division. The sub-
ject could not be handled in such a form. Whatever
might be their relation as regards the great continental
divisions of the human family, the terms race and
species as applied to the several American nations I
soon discovered to be meaningless. As convincing
arguments might be advanced to prove them of one
race as of twenty, of three as of forty. Some call the
Eskimos one race, and all the rest in America from
Hudson Bay to Tierra del Fuego one race. Some
segregate the Aztecs; others distinguish the Cali-
fornians as Malays, and the natives of Brazil as
Africans. I soon perceived that ethnologists still
remained mystified and at variance, and I resolved
not to increase the confusion.

This I could do: I could group them geographi-
cally, and note physique, customs, institutions, beliefs,
and, most important of all, languages; then he w^ho
would might classify them according to race and
species. In all my work I was determined to keep
upon firm ground, to avoid meaningless and even
technical terms, to avoid theories, speculations, and
superstitions of every kind, and to deal only in
facts. This I relied on more than on any other one
thing. My w^ork could not be wholly worthless if I
gathered only facts, and arranged them in some form
which should bring them within reach of those who

EVILS OF DOGMATISM. 299

had not access to my material, or who could not use
it if they had ; whereas theories might be overthrown
as worthless. I had not studied long the many
questions arising from a careful survey of the material
brought forth and arranged for my Native Races
before I became aware that many things which were
long since supposed to be settled were not settled, and
much which I would be expected to decide never
could be decided by any one. The more I thought of
these things the stronger became an inherent repug-
nance to positiveness in cases where nothing was
positive.

Often we hear it urged upon the young, "Get
opinions, make up your mind upon the leading ques-
sions of the day, and once having formed an opinion,
hold it fast." All matters from Moses to Darwin,
all disputed questions relative to this world and the
next, are to be forever decided in the mind of a
young man just setting out in life, and whether the
conclusions thus jumped at be right or wrong they
must be forever fixed and immovable. None but the
ignorant egoist, or one with an ill-balanced mind, will
attempt to arrive at fixed conclusions on any subject
with only partial data before him.

Many complained because I did not settle insol-
uble questions for them, because I did not determine
beyond peradventure the origin of the Americans,
where they came from, who their fathers were, and
who made them. But far more found this absence of
vain and tiresome speculation commendable.

Finally, after much deliberation to enable me to
grasp the subject which lay spread over such a vast
territory, I concluded to divide manners and customs
into two parts, making of the wild or savage tribes
one division, and of the civilized nations another. The
civilized nations all la}^ together in two main families,
the Nahuas of central Mexico and the Mayas of Cen-
tral America. The savage tribes, however, extended
from the extreme north to the extreme southern limits

300 MY FIRST BOOK

of our Pacific States territory, completely surround-
ing the civilized nations. The wild tribes, therefore,
must be grouped ; and I could reach no better plan
than to adopt arbitrarily territorial divisions, never
dividing, however, a nation, tribe, or family that
seemed clearly one. There were the Pueblos of New
Mexico, who could be placed among the savage or
civilized nations according to convenience. I placed
them among the wild tribes, though they were as far
in advance of the Nootkas of Vancouver island as
the Mayas were in advance of the Pueblos. Indeed,
like most of these expressions, the terms savage and
civilized are purely relative. Where is the absolute
savage on the face of the earth to-day; where the
man absolutely perfect in his civilization? What we
call civilization is not a fixed state, but an irresistible
and eternal moving onward.

The groupings I at last adopted for the Manners
and Customs of the Wild Tribes were: Beginning at
the extreme north, all those nations lying north of the
fifty-fifth parallel I called, arbitrarily, Hyperboreans;
to those whose lands were drained by the Columbia
river and its tributaries I gave the name Columbians;
the Californians included in their division the inhab-
itants of the great basin ; then there were the New
Mexicans, the Wild Tribes of Mexico, and the Wild
Tribes of Central America. There was no special
reason in beginning at the north rather than at the
south. Indeed, in treating the subject of antiquities
I began at the south, but this was partly because the
chief monumental remains were in Central America
and Mexico, and few of importance north of Mexico.
And there were other topics to be examined, such
as languages, myths, and architectural remains; and
the civilized nations had their own written history to
be given.

It was my purpose to lay before the world absolutely
all that was known of these peoples at the time of the
appearing among them of their European extermi-

THE BUILDING OF IT. 301

nators. All real knowledge of them I would present^
and their history, so far as they had a history. I had
little to say of the aborigines or their deeds since the
coming of the Europeans, of their wars against in-
vaders and among themselves ; of repartimientos, pre-
sidios, missions, reservations, and other institutions for
their conquest, conversion, protection, or oppression.
My reason for this was that all these things, so far as
they possessed importance, belonged to the modern
history of the country where they were to receive due
attention. The wild tribes in the absence of written
records had very little history, and that little was
mingled with the crudest of supernatural conceptions.

Besides these several branches of the subject I
could think of no others. These included all that re-
lated in any wise to their temporalities or their spirit-
ualities; everything relating to mind, soul, body, and
estate, language, and literature. The last mentioned
subjects, namely, myths, languages, antiquities, and
history, I thought best to treat separately, and for
the following reasons: The myths of these peoples,
their strange conceptions of their origin, their deities,
and their future state, would present a much more per-
fect and striking picture placed together where they
might the better be analyzed and compared. And so
with languages and the others. These might or might
not be taken up territorially; in this respect I would
be governed by the subject-matter at the time I
treated it. It resulted that as a rule they were so
treated; that is, beginning at one end or the other of
the territory and proceeding systematically to the other
end. Myths and languages each begin at the north;
antiquities proceed from the south; history is con-
fined mostly to the table-lands of Mexico and Central
America, and had no need of territorial treatment.

All this I hoped to condense, at the outset, into two
volumes, the first of which would comprise the
manners and customs of both savage and civilized
tribes, the other divisions filling the second volume.

302 MY FIRST BOOK.

But I soon saw that, after the severest and most per-
sistent compressing, the manners and customs of the
wild tribes alone would fill a volume. In each of the
six great territorial divisions of this branch of the
subject there was much in common with all the rest.
A custom or characteristic once mentioned was seldom
again described, differences only being noticed; but
in every nation there was much which, though gener-
ally similar to like characteristics in other tribes, so
differed in minor if not in main particulars as to de-
mand a separate description. Hence I was obliged
either to take more space or let the varying customs
go unnoticed, and the latter course I could not make
up my mind to adopt.

So the first volume became two almost at the out-
set; for it was soon apparent that the portraiture of
the civilized nations — a description of their several
eras; their palaces, households, and government; their
castes and classes, slaves, tenure of land, and taxa-
tion; their education, marriage, concubinage, child-
birth, and baptism ; their feasts and amusements ; their
food, dress, commerce, and war customs; their laws
and law courts, their arts and manufactures; their
calendar and picture-writing; their architecture, bo-
tanical gardens, medicines, funeral rites, and the like —
would easily fill a volume.

Proceeding further in the work it was ascertained
that myths and languages would together require a
volume; that the subject of antiquities, with the
necessary three or four hundred illustrations, would
occupy a volume, and that the primitive history of
the Nahuas and Mayas, with which Brasseur de
Bourbourg filled four volumes, could not be properly
written in less than one.

Thus we see the two volumes swollen to five, even
then one of the principal difficulties in the work being
to confine the ever swelling subjects within these
rigidly prescribed limits. So great is the tendency,
so much easier is it, when one lias an interesting sub-

TREATMENT OF THE SUBJECT. -303

ject, to write it out and revel in description, rather
than to cramp it into a sometimes distorting com-
pass, that whatever I take up is almost sure to over-
run first calculations as to space.

Five volumes, then, comprised the Native Races of
the Pacific States: the first being the Wild Tribes,
their manners and customs; the second, the Civilized
Nations of Mexico and Central America; the third,
Myths and Languages of both savage and civilized
nations; the fourth, Antiquities, including Architect-
ural remains; and the fifth. Primitive History and
Migrations. A copious index, filling one hundred and
sixty-two pages, and referring alphabetically to each
of the ten or twelve thousand subjects mentioned in
the five volumes, completed the work.

Maps showing the locations of the aborigines ac-
cording to their nation, family, and tribe, were intro-
duced wherever necessary, the first volume containing
six, one for each of the great territorial divisions.

Such was the plan; now as to the execution. As
the scheme was entirely my own, as I had consulted
with no one outside of the library about it, and with
my assistants but little, I had only to work it out
after my own fashion.

The questions of race and species settled, to my
own satisfaction at least, in an Ethnological Introduc-
tion, which constitutes the first chapter of the first
volume, I brought together for following chapters all
the material touching the first main division, the
Hyperboreans, and proceeded to abstract it. It was
somewhat confusing to me at first to determine the
subjects to be treated and the order in which I should
name them; but sooner than I had anticipated there
arose in my mind what I conceived to be natural
sequence in all these things, and there was little diffi-
culty or hesitation. Above all things I sought sim-
plicity in style, substance, and arrangement, fully
realizing that the more easily I could make myself
understood, the better my readers would be pleased.

304 MY FIRST BOOK.

One of the most difficult parts of the work was to
locate the tribes and compile the maps. Accurately
to define the boundaries of primitive nations, much
of the time at war and migrating with the seasons, is
impossible, from the fact that, although they aim to
have limits of their lands well defined, these bound-
aries are constantly shifting. The best I could do
was to take out all information relative to the location
of every tribe, bring together what each author had
said upon the different peoples, and print it in his
own language, under the heading Tribal Boundaries,
in small type at the end of every chapter.

Thus there were as many of these sections on tribal
boundaries as there were divisions; and from these I
had drawn a large ethnographical map of the whole
Pacific States, from which were engraved the subdi-
visions inserted at the beginning of each section. In
this way every available scrap of material in existence
was used and differences as far as possible were recon-
ciled.

When my first division was wholly written I sub-
mitted it in turn to each of my principal assistants,
and invited their criticism, assuring them that I
should be best pleased with him who could find most
fault with it. A number of suggestions were made,
some of which I acted on. In general the plan as
first conceived was carried out; and to-day I do not
see how it could be changed for the better. I then
went on and explained to my assistants how I had
reached the results, and giving to each a division I
requested them in like manner to gather and arrange
the material, and place it before me in the best form
possible for my use. During the progress of this
work I succeeded in utilizing the labors of my assist-
ants to the full extent of my anticipations; indeed, it
was necessary I should do so. Otherwise from a quar-
ter to a half century would have been occupied in this
one work. Without taking into account the indexing
of thousands of volumes merely to point out where

UTILIZATION OF ASSISTANCE. 305

material existed, or the collecting of the material,
there was in each of these five volumes the work of
fifteen men for eight months, or of one man for ten
years. This estimate, I say, carefully made after the
work was done, showed that there had been expended
on the Native Races labor equivalent to the well di-
rected efforts of one man, every day, Sundays ex-
cepted, from eight o'clock in the morning till six at
night, for a period of fifty years. In this estimate I do
not include the time lost in unsuccessful experiments,
but only the actual time employed in taking out the
material, writing the work, preparing the index for the
five volumes, which alone was one year's labor, proof-
reading, and comparison with authorities. The last two
requirements consumed an immense amount of time,
the proof being read eight or nine times, and every
reference compared with the original authority after
the work was in type. This seemed to me necessary
to insure accuracy, on account of the many foreign
languages in which the authorities were written, and
the multitude of native and strange words which
crowded my pages. Both text and notes were re-
written, compared, and corrected without limit, until
they were supposed to be perfect ; and I venture to say
that never a work of that character and magnitude
went to press finally with fewer errors.

Fifty years ! I had not so many to spare upon this
work. Possibly I might die before the time had ex-
pired or the volumes were completed; and what
should I do with the two or three hundred years' ad-
ditional work planned?

When the oracle informed Mycerinus that he had
but six years to live, he thought to outwit the gods
by making the night as day. Lighting his lamps at
nightfall he feasted until morning, thus striving to
double his term. I must multiply my days in some
way to do this work. I had attempted the trick of
Mycerinus, but it would not succeed with me, for
straightway the outraged deities ordained that for

Lit. Ind. 20

306 MY FIRST BOOK.

every hour so stolen I must repay fourfold. The work
of my assistants, besides saving me an immense amount
of drudgery and manual labor, left my mind always
fresh, and open to receive and retain the subject as a
whole. I could institute comparisons and indulge in
generalizations more freely, and I believe more effect-
ually, than with my mind overwhelmed by a mass of
detail. I do not know how far others have carried
this system. Herbert Spencer, I believe, derived
much help from assistants. German authors have the
faculty of multiplying their years with the aid of
others in a greater degree than any other people.
Besides having scholars in various parts of the country
at work for him, Bunsen employed five or six secre-
taries. Professors in the German universities are
most prolific authors, and these almost to a man have
the assistance of one or two students.

Thus says Hurst: ^' While the real author is re-
sponsible for every word that goes out under his
own name, and can justly claim the parentage of the
whole idea, plan, and scope of the work, he is spared
much of the drudgery incident to all book-making
which is not the immediate first fruit of imagination.
Where history is to be ransacked, facts to be grouped,
and matters of pure detail to be gleaned from various
sources, often another could do better service than
the author." The young Germans who thus assist
authors, highly prize the discipline by means of which
they often become authors themselves. At Halle,
during his half century of labor, Tholuck had several
theological students at work for him, some of whom
were members of his own family. And thence pro-
ceeded several famous authors, among whom were
Kurtz and Held. So Jacobi and Piper started forth
from Neander. And the system is growing in favor
in the United States.

CHAPTER XIII.

THE PERILS OF PUBLISHING.

Murci^lagoa literarios
Que haceia d pluma y d. pelo,
Si quer^is vivir con todos
Mirdos en este espejo.

Iriarte,

All the anxiety I had hitherto felt in regard to
the Native Races was as author thereof; now I had to
undergo the trials of publishing.

Business experience had taught me that the imme-
diate recognition, even of a work of merit, depends
almost as much on the manner of bringing it forth
as upon authorship. So easily swayed are those who
pass judgment on the works of authors; so greatly
are they ruled by accidental or incidental causes who
form for the public their opinion, that pure substantial
merit is seldom fully and alone recognized.

I do not mean by this that the better class of
critics are either incompetent or unfair, that they
cannot distinguish a meritorious work from a worth-
less one, or that, having determined the value of a
production in their own minds, they will not so write
it down. Yet comparatively speaking there are few
reviewers of this class. Many otherwise good jour-
nals, both in America and in Europe, publish miserable
book notices.

To illustrate: Would the average newspaper pub-
lisher on the Pacific coast regard with the same eyes
a book thrust suddenly and unheralded upon his at-
tention as the production of a person whom he had
never known except as a shopkeeper, one w^iom he

(307)

308 THE PERILS OF PUBLISHING.

had never suspected of aspiring to literature, as if the
same book were placed before him with explanation,
and bearing upon it the approving stamp of those
whose opinions must overrule even his own; would
he handle it with the same hands, and would the print
of it, and the paper, binding, and subject-matter, and
style of it be to him the same?

How differently the most discriminating, for the
moment at least, would regard a volume of verses if
told beforehand that in the writer burned brightly the
fires of genius, or if with ridicule he was pronounced
an illiterate crack-brained rhymster. How much has
the lewdness of Byron and the religious infidelity of
Shelley to do with our appreciation of their poems?
Lamartine called the author of Cosmos, before Hum-
boldt had made his greatest reputation, *'a clever
man, but without much real merit." *' Motley," writes
Merimee to his Incognita, ''though an American is a
man of talent." Here was sound judgment, in due
time, seen rising above prejudice. Sannazaro, the
Italian poet, for an epigram of six lines on the beauty
of Venice received six hundred ducats from the Ve-
netian senate. Yet who reads Sannazaro now? The
pride of these old men was flattered, and the senti-
ment went farther with them than merit. Yet there
is no study productive of higher results, and such as
are the most beneficial to the race than the life and
labors of prominent men ; for in it we find all that
is best of both history and biography. Pericles
boasted that at Athens sour looks were not thrown
by his neighbors upon a man on account of his eccen-
tricities.

Addison wished to know his author before reading
his works; De Quincey, afterward. Yet many, in
forming the acquaintance of an author, like best the
natural way; that is, as one forms the acquaintance
of the man : first an introduction, which shall tell who
and what he is, time and place of birth, education and

PREDILECTIONS OF AUTHORS. 309

occupation. Then let it be seen what he has done to
demand attention; give of the labors of his brain
some of the fruits ; and if by this time they have not
had enough of him, they will enter with relish into the
details of his life, habits, temper, and peculiarities.

Hordes of literary adventurers are constantly
coming and going, not one in a thousand of whom
will be known a century hence ; and among these are
so-called scientists with their long-drawn speculations
and unanswerable theories, to say nothing of doctors
of various degrees and instructors in supernatural
sleight-of-hand.

Philosophers are these fellows after the order of
Diogenes the cynic. '^One needs no education," they
say with their master, '^or reading, or such nonsense,
for this system; it is the real short cut to reputation.
Be you the most ordinary person, cobbler, sausage-
monger, carpenter, pawnbroker, nothing hinders your
becoming the object of popular admiration, provided
only that you've impudence enough, and brass enough,
and a happy talent for bad language." Almost every
man endowed with talents w^hicli would win success in
one field affects, or has some time in his life affected,
a pursuit for which he has no talent. Bentley, Sainte-
Beuve, and many another, fancied themselves great
poets when criticism only was their forte. Praise
Girardet's pictures and he brings you his verses; praise
Canova's sculpture and he brings a picture. The good
comic actor often cares little for comedy, but delights
in tragedy ; if Douglas Jerrold, the successful wit, could
only write on natural philosophy he would be a made
man. To his dying day Sainte-Beuve did not cease
to lament his slighted muse ; yet he would never have
become a poet, even had he written as many lines as
the Persian Ferdosi who in thirty years ground out
one hundred and twenty thousand verses. After his
third failure he abandoned the idea of further attempts
at publishing poetry and confined himself to criticism.
Goethe says: ''Der Mensch mag sich wenden wohin

310 THE PERILS OF PUBLISHING.

er will, er mag unternehmen was es auch sey, stets
wird er auf jenen Weg wieder zurlickkehren, den ihm
die Natur einmal vorgezeichnet hat." In his younger
days Jean Paul Kichter fancied that his genius was
especially adapted to satire, when nothing was further
from his nature.

In ranging the field of modern literature, one can
but observe upon how slight a foundation some repu-
tations have been built; not slight as regards alone
the quantity of work done, but the quality. Fortu-
nately for mankind such reputations never last. The
public may be for the moment deceived, but time is
a true measure of values. No book can live for fifty
years unless it has merit; and no meritorious book in
these present days can remain very long hidden.

There is a difference in books in this respect, how-
ever. Scientific data, for example, might be faith-
fully collected from a new field by an unknown author
and brought to the light in a far-off corner of the
literary world, there remaining unnoticed for some
time before scholars should hear of it. This misfor-
tune, assuming that my work was meritorious, I was
anxious to avoid.

Experience had told me that a book written, printed,
and published at this date on the Pacific coast, no
matter how meritorious or by whom sent forth, that
is to say if done by any one worth the castigating,
would surely be condemned by some and praised
coldly and critically by others. There are innumer-
able local prejudices abroad which prevent us from
recognizing to the fullest extent the merits of our
neighbor. Least of all would a work of mine be
judged solely upon its merits. Trade engenders com-
petition, and competition creates enemies. There were
hundreds in California who damned me every day,
and to please this class as well as themselves there
were newspaper writers who would like nothing better
than, by sneers and innuendoes, to consign the fruits
of laborious years to oblivion.

UNFAIR CRITICISM. 311

" This man is getting above his business/' some
would say. ''Because he can sell books he seems to infer
a divine mission to write them. Now it may be as well
first as last for him to understand that merchandising
and authorship are two distinct things; that a com-
mercial man who has dealt in books as he would deal
in bricks, by county weight, or dollars' worth, cannot
suddenly assume to know all things and set himself
up as a teacher of mankind. He must be put down.
Such arrogance cannot be countenanced. If writing
is thus made common our occupation is gone."

All did not so feel; but there was more of such
sentiment behind editorial spectacles than editors
would admit even to themselves. I have seen through
jealousy, or conscienceless meanness, the fruits of a
good man's best days thrown to the dogs by some
flippant remark of an unprincipled critic. Tuthill's
History of California was a good book, the best by
far which up to its time had been written on the sub-
ject. It was in the main truthful and reliable. The
author was a conscientious worker; lying was foreign
to his nature; he spent his last days on this work,
and on his death-bed corrected the proofs as they
passed from the press. And yet there were those
among his brother editors in California who did not
scruple, when the book was placed in their hands for
review, to color their criticism from some insignificant
flaws which they pretended to have discovered, and
so consign a faithful, true history of this coast to per-
dition, because the author had taken a step or iwo
above them.

To local fame, or a literary reputation restricted to
California, I did not attach much value. Not that I
\\ as indifierent to the opinions of my neighbors, or that
I distrusted Pacific-coast journalists as a class. I had
among them many warm friends whose approbation I
coveted. But at this juncture I did not desire the
criticism either of enemies or friends, but of strangers ;
I was desirous above all that my book should be first

312 THE PERILS OF PUBLISHING,

reviewed on its merits and by disinterested and un-
prejudiced men. Adverse criticism at home, where the
facts were supposed to be better known, might injure
me abroad, while if prejudiced in my favor, the critic
might give an opinion which would be negatived by
those of New England or of Europe. Besides, I could
not but feel, if my work was worth anything, if it was
a work worth doing and well done, that the higher
the scholar, or the literary laborer, the higher to him
would appear its value.

The reason is obvious. I dealt in facts, gathered
from new fields and conveniently arrangedT These
were the raw material for students in the several
branches of science, and for philosophers in their
generalLzations. My theories, if I indulged in any,
vf ould be worse than thrown away on them. This was
their work; they would theorize, and generalize, and
deduce for themselves. But they would not despise
my facts; for were they as mighty as Moses they
could not make bricks without straw. Hence it was
by the verdict of the best men of the United States,
of England, France, and Germany, the world's ripest
scholars and deepest thinkers, that my contribu-
tions to knowledge must stand or fall, and not by
the wishes of my friends or the desire of my enemies.
This is why, I say, a home reputation alone never
would have satisfied me, never would have paid me
for my sacrifice of time, labor, and many of the
amenities of life.

To reach these results, which were as clearly defined
in my mind before as after their accomplishment,
involved a journey to the eastern states. Yet before
leaving this coast on such a mission there should be
some recognition of my efforts here. It were not best
for me to leave my state entirely unheralded. If those
who knew me best, who lived beside me, who fre-
quented my library and should know of my labors,
if these had nothing to say, would it not appear some-

EXAMINATION INVITED. 313

what strange to those at a distance before whom I
was now about to make pretensions?

Up to this time, about the beginning of 1874, 1 had
spoken httle of my work to any one, preferring to
accompHsh something first and then point to what I
had done rather than talk about what I intended to
do. I was fully aware that often the reputation which
precedes performance is greater than that which comes
after it, hence I would husband whatever good was to
be said of me until it had something to rest on.
During the previous year several notices had crept
into the papers, mostly through visitors from the east,
concerning the library and the work going on there.
Members of the San Francisco press often came to me
for information, but were asked to wait till I was
ready to publish something on the subject. At pres-
ent all I desired was to be let alone.

When the plan of the Native Races was fully set-
tled, and the first volume, and parts of the second
and third volumes were in type, I invited a num-
ber of men eminent in their several callings, and
in whom I knew the public had confidence, to in-
spect my work and report. Among these were Brantz
Mayer, author of several works on Mexico; Benjamin
P. Avery, editor of the Overland Monthly, and shortly
after minister to China; Daniel C. Gilman, president
of the university of California; J. Ross Browne,
probably the foremost writer on the coast ; Frederick
Whymper, author of a work on Alaska; and others.

The opinions formed from these investigations were
forwarded to me in the form of letters, which I printed
as a circular, adding to my list of letters from time to
time until the circular reached sixteen pages of flat-
tering testimonials.

Some of these men were exceedingly interested
and astonished. There was Professor Georo^e Da-
vidson, I remember, for many years at the head of
the United States coast survey, president of the
California academy of sciences, and in every respect

314 THE PERILS OF PUBLISHING.

one of the first scientific men of the age. He hap-
pened to be absent from the city when I issued my
first invitations, and on his return I sent Goldschmidt
to him with a copy of the Native Eaces, as far as
printed, for his examination.

Goldschmidt found the professor in his rear office,
stated his errand, and laid the printed pages before
him. Davidson looked at them, looked at the list of
twelve hundred authorities quoted which stood at
the beginning of volume i., turned over the leaves,
dropped now and then an ejaculation, but said little.
Presently his colored attendant came to the door and
addressed him.

''A gentleman wishes to see you." No response.
The black man retired; but it was not long before he
appeared again with a similar message.

"All right," returned Davidson.

Some ten or fifteen minutes now elapsed, during
which the professor was examining the pages and
asking Goldschmidt questions. Again the black face
appeared at the portal, this time wrinkled by porten-
tous concern.

** There are, four or five men in the outer office
waiting to speak with you, sir."

''Very well, let them wait!" exclaimed the profes-
sor. " Such work as this doesn't fall into my hands
ever}^ day."

Though I had not then met Professor Davidson,
I admired him, and valued his opinion highly.
If from disinterested intelligent men my efforts
could not secure approval, I felt that I need go no
farther.

Among the literary notes of the Overland Monthly
for March 1874 appeared a brief account of the col-
lecting and indexing, with intimation that the mass
was to be sifted and the results given to the world in
some shape. This notice of the library was copied
by several of the daily newspapers.

Next appeared a long article in the same maga-

THE NAME 'PACIFIC STATES.' 315

zine of June 1874, under the heading of "Some
Rare Books about California." The Overland was
the first and indeed the only literary journal of any
pretensions west of the Rocky mountains. The arti-
cle was based on the library, and treated of the
rare historical works it contained, but no allusion
whatever was made to the Native Races, or any other
work undertaken or in contemplation, except that it
spoke of a bibliography of the coast which sometime
might be made by somebody, also of w^riters in and
on California, and again alluded to Mr Bancroft's
''self-imposed life work of condensing his material
into a series of standard works on Spanish North
America, with its English and Russian additions in
the north-west, a territory which he terms the Pacific
States."

The name I should give to the territory marked
out had often troubled me. There were the original
Spanish- American, English, and Russian possessions,
for which it w^as absolutely necessary to have some
one simple appellation, such as would be most appli-
cable and most easily understood by the world at large.
There were objections to the term Pacific States. It
had been applied by me as publisher, and by some
few others, to the United States territory on the
Pacific, and if it had any signification it meant only
those states and territories. I could not say the
Pacific coast, for the territory embraced much more
than the coast. It included half the North American
continent, and the whole of Mexico and Central Amer-
ica. Why I selected this territory as the field for
my historical investigations I have already explained.
I proposed to do a large work, and I would cover a
large territory: it was all new; its history was un-
written; it had a past and would have a future; and
there was no one part of it claiming attention more
than another, unless it w^as the central part, which
must ever exercise a dominant influence over the rest.
I did not like the term Pacific nations, or Pacific ter-

316 THE PERILS OF PUBLISHING.

ritories. The several nationalities on these shores
had often changed, were still changing, and might be
all one confederacy, republic, empire, or kingdom some
day for aught I knew. At all events, they were states
now; there were the Central American states, the
states of the Mexican and American republics, and
the colonial possessions of Great Britain and lately
of Russia, which were, and always would be in some
form, states, using the term in a broad sense. Open
to the charge of lack of unity was my whole scheme,
in all its several bearings, physical, ethnographical,
and historical; and yet, the territory being all now
occupied by European nations, it was no more diverse
in its origin, character, and interests than Europe,
and men had written histories of Europe ere now.
The Pacific States of North America, therefore, as
the best and most fitting term for the designation of
this territory, its past, present, and future, I finally
settled upon, and I know of no more simple and com-
prehensive expression to apply to it now.

At last I was ready for the newspaper reporters,
if not for the reviewers. They might publish what
they pleased about the library, its contents, and how
collected, but my work was not yet on exhibition. In
they came, and made sweeping work of it, representa-
tives of English, French, Spanish, German, and Italian
journals, of the interior towns as well as of the cities.
The Bulletin, Alta, Post, and Chronicle of San Fran-
cisco came out in long articles, vying with each other
in the extent of their description and the loudness of
their praise. From Sacramento the proprietor of the
Record- Union sent one of its editors who by appoint-
ment with Mr Oak spent a whole day in a critical
examination of the contents of the fifth floor, which
resulted in a highly flattering article covering an
entire page of that journal. From Oregon and from
Mexico, from British Columbia and from Central
America, the journals now came to be laden with
elaborate description of my collection.

PROPOSED VISIT EAST. 317

There was nothing so terrible in all this. It was
about as might have been expected. But there was
plenty which was worse before me, now and for
twenty years. I must presently go east, call upon
fifty or a hundred of the leading literary men, scien-
tists, and journalists, and explain personally to them
the character of the work I was engaged in.

This I dreaded. To go with my book, like a can-
vasser for praise, from one stranger to another, tell
them of myself, what I was doing, and ask their
opinion — proud and sensitive, I felt it to be a most
diflBcult, most unpleasant task, one repugnant to my
nature, whijch coveted retirement above all things else.
Writers are sensitive. It is well they are. The
thoroughbred is thinner-skinned than the ass. A man
who is not sensitive about his reputation never will
make one. A writer of the first class represents not
only his own genius, but the genius and highest culture
of his time; little wonder is it, therefore, that the re-
sults of long labor, involving the best efforts of a new
aspirant, are given to the bulls and bears of literature
tremblingly.

Yet it must be done. I felt that I owed it to my-
self and to my work. Life and fortune were now
fully embarked in this enterprise, and my enthusiasm
for the work was mounting higher as the months
and years went by. Now was the turning-point with
me. My first work was ready for publication, and
on its reception would depend in a measure my whole
future.

Not that a failure of the Native Races to sell
would have discouraged me. This was the least that
troubled me. It was altogether a secondary matter
whether copies of the book were sold or not. I merely
wished to assure myself whether mine was a good
work well performed, or a useless one poorly done. I
would have the book issued by first-class publishers in
New York and Europe, for it must bear upon it the
stamp of a first-class publication, but the people might

318 THE PERILS OF PUBLISHING

buy it or not, as they pleased. That was not what
concerned me.

Crabbe was not more timorous in asking the gen-
erous Burke to look at his verses than I in begging
critics to glance at my productions. Not every one
can understand the feeling. Not every one would
hesitate to show a book of which one might be proud
to men interested in such books. But there was the
trouble with me. I did not feel sure that my work
was sufficiently meritorious to awaken their interest,
that I had done anything to be proud of, and I did
not know whether or not they would be interested.
It came up to me as a species of beggary in which to
indulge was worse than starvation. I must appear
before these literary lords as a western adventurer,
or at best a presumptuous litterateur — coveting their
praise — a role I despised above all others. I must
appear as one asking favor for a product of his brain
so inferior in quality that if left to itself it could not
stand. But there was behind me work piled moun-
tain high, and for the sake of the future I would
undertake the mission.

If the object be to bring the book to the notice of
these eastern literati, cannot that be done as well by
letter, accompanied by a copy of the work? I asked
myself No. The book was not yet published, although
I had printed one hundred copies with Author's Copy
on the title-page for private distribution before the
plates were sent east; and I could and did use the
copies for such distribution. But this was not the
vital point. Mine was a peculiar work, originated and
executed in a peculiar way. I required the opinion
of these men concerning it. No amount of writing
would lay the matter before them as I could do my-
self I must have direct and immediate assurance
as to the quality of my work from the only class of
men the critics feared, and then I should not fear the
critics.

It was no part of my purpose at any time to pub-

THE FIRST REVIEW. 31ft

lish my first work in San Francisco, or to permit the
imprint of our firm upon the title-page either as pub-
lisher or agent. The firm should have the exclusive
sale of the book upon the Pacific coast, but it seemed
to me in bad taste for the author's name and publish-
ing house to appear upon the same title-page.

Another time I should not be particular about it;
that is to say, if this proved a success. But now I
must obtain for it all the weight of a first-class eastern
publisher, and not impart to it the appearance of
having been originated by a bookseller as a com-
mercial speculation. In his Cyropoedia, Xenophon
places the department of public instruction in the
grand square near the king's palace and government
offices, whence merchandise and trade ''with their
noise and vulgarity " were banished. So with my bant-
ling; I could not afford, even in appearance, and in
this instance at least, to expose the product of my
brain to doubts and risks.

Returned from my eastern pilgrimage, an account
of which is given in the next chapter, and armed
with letters from the high-priests of New England
learning, I was ready to have my book reviewed in
the Overland. This of all others was the proper jour-
nal to publish the first notice of my first work. It was,
for a western magazine, ably edited and enthusiasti-
cally published, at a monthly loss of certain hundreds
of dollars. The article should be by a first-class
writer, and printed before reviews began to arrive
from the east. Mr Fisher and Mr Harcourt, as we
shall see, had assumed the joint editorship of the
magazine after the departure of Mr Avery for China,
and they were solicitous for the appearance of such
an article in the holiday number, namely that of De-
cember 1874.

But the question was. Who should be the writer
of the article? Obviously no one in the library, nor
any one who had participated in the work. It must

320 THE PERILS OF PUBLISHING.

be by some one thoroughly competent to judge of
such work, and whose name would carry weight with
it here and in distant parts. The editors suggested Mr
Gilman. I was well enough satisfied. I had often met
him since his assuming the presidency of the uni-
versity of California; he had been a guest at my
house, had frequently visited the library, spending
considerable time there, and had always expressed
much interest in my work. It was a favorite project
of his in some way to transfer my library to the lands
of the university, evidently with the idea that once
there it would never be removed.

One day he came to me and stated that a building
fund was about to be appropriated to the purpose of
the university, that the plans of new buildings were
drawn, and that if I would agree to move my library
to Berkeley, without any other obligation expressed
or implied, with full liberty at any time to remove it,
he would have a building erected specially for the
collection, and thereby lessen the danger to which it
was then exposed of being destroyed by fire, for that
would be a national calamity.

I declined. For, however free I might be to re-
move my collection, there would ever be resting over
me an implied obligation which I was by no means
willing to incur. I had no thought of donating my
collection to any institution. Surely I was spending
time and money enough for the good of my country
to be permitted to keep my books.

I felt the risk of fire; felt it every day. But until
I could erect a suitable structure myself, I, and the
commonwealth, and posterity must take the chances
of the devouring flames. I explained to the president,
moreover, that the library was not merely a reference
library, but a working library; that I had imposed
upon myself certain tasks which would occupy the
better part of my life, if not, indeed, the whole of it,
and it was more convenient both for me and for my
assistants where it was. Still, this objection was not

A TIMID REVIEWER. 321

paramount. I would do much to avoid fire risk; but
I must decline hampering my work in any way or
placing myself under obligations to the state or to
any corporation or person. Writing history of all
things demands freedom; I was free, absolutely free.
I sought neither emolument nor office from any quar-
ter. While desiring the friendship and sympathy of
all, I feared none, and for favor would never depart
from what I deemed the right. I was free, and must
remain so. The university president expressed him-
self satisfied.

Mr Gilman then lived in Oakland, and one day in
November the young editors proposed to me that we
should visit him. To this I readily assented, and
that night we crossed the bay and called at his house.
He received us cordially, entered into the plan with
interest, and even enthusiasm, and at once promised
to undertake the article. To facilitate matters, as the
president's time was valuable, and in order that he
might derive the most assistance from the experience
of others, he requested that Nemos, Harcourt,
Oak, and Goldschmidt should each severally write
whatever occurred to him respecting the library,
the book to be reviewed, and the author, and hand
the material to Gilman, who would thus be obliged
merely to use these statements so far as they went,
instead of making lengthy original research. But it
was distinctly understood that these notes should
serve only as memoranda, and that the author of the
article should verify every statement, make thorough
personal investigation, and speak with dignity and
decision concerning the work, commending or con-
demning, as his judgment might dictate.

Yet withal there was something in the university
president's manner I did not understand. He was a
very pleasant, very plausible man, and quite positive
sometimes. He was a good man, an earnest, honest,
and practical man, and he made a good college presi-
dent, though in some respects he was somewhat too

Lit. Ind. 21

322 THE PERILS OF PUBLISHING.

diplomatic. In short, while he meant everything
for the best, and would under no consideration do an
ungentlemanly, not to say dishonorable act, he was
not remarkable for plain, straigh forward, and thor-
ough sincerity. Such was his nature; he could not
help it.

The hard lineaments of a grave face may hide
much that is sweet and sympathetic; so the winning
vivacity of a pleasing face may serve as the cover of
empty diplomacy. In this instance, like Franklin's
Governor Keith, he wished to please; he wished to
contribute the article; and yet, as the sequel showed,
he lacked the courage to do it.

The time was limited. The article must be ready
soon in order to gain its insertion in the December
number. The president assured the editors that they
might rely upon him. The memoranda were sent
promptly as agreed. He spent some time in the
library looking over the books, index, and the notes,
and questioning my assistants, all of which augured
well. Perhaps I was mistaken in my impressions.
He might have more stamina than I had given him
credit for.

But no, alas 1 for when the article was handed in at
the Overland office it proved to have been fearfully
and wonderfully prepared. Fisher immediately rushed
up with it to my room. ''Here's a pretty go!" he
exclaimed, almost out of breath from running up five
flights of stairs. Sure enough; the flabby flesh of it
was fair enough, but it lacked bones, or any substan-
tial framework. Instead of saying ' I have looked into
this matter, I have examined this work thoroughly,
and I find this good and that bad, or perhaps all good
or all bad,' either or any of which would have satisfied
me so far as his good intention and ability were con<
•cerned, he wrote, 'Mr Nemos says this, Mr Gold-
schmidt that, Mr Harcourt the other thing,' hovering
a,bout the subject and avoiding the question himself

I never was thoroughly satisfied whether he lacked

PRESIDENT OILMAN AND J. ROSS BROWNE. 323

the disposition to write the article, or the stamina of
mind to have an opinion and avow it. He was a very
timid man, particularly as to the estimation in which
college and literary men at the east Avould hold him.
It must be remembered that no review of the Native
Races had as yet appeared, and if Mr Gilman were to
commit himself to an opinion which should prove not
the opinion of his friends at the east, he never would
forgive himself Scholasticus swore he would never
enter water until he could swim; Gilman would not
venture a criticism until he was sure it would float.
I then felt and feel now^ very grateful to Mr Gilman
for ]iis distinguished courtesy and kindness to me on
many occasions both before and after this. But here
was required something else than courtesy or kindness.
The life-issue of my literar}^ labors was at stake. I
must know where I stood, and I asked the president
of the university of California, as one high in learn-
ing and authority, to tell me, to tell the world. He
was friendly to me, friendly to the work, had been
useful, wanted to be useful now, but he lacked what
I most wanted then, and what I was determined to
have — positiveness.

Tearing the manuscript in pieces and throwing it
into the waste-basket, I turned to my work. "What
shall we do now?" asked Fisher.

"Ross Browne is the best man on the coast, if we
could get him," he said. "He is much better known
at the east than Gilman."

"I can get him," said Harcourt. Within an hour
he was across the bay and driving to the pagoda-
looking villa situated in the foothills beyond Oakland.
He was accustomed to tell the story by this time, and
soon Mr Browne knew all about it. He promised his
immediate and hearty attention. The consequence
was one of the best articles ever written upon the sub-
ject, in the Overland of December. The library, the
index, and the first volume of the Native Races were
all criticall}^ examined, explained, and opinions pro-

324 THE PERILS OF PUBLISHING.

nounced. The article was copied in the News Letter,
and in part by the newspaper press generally.

Gilman often said afterward that he would yet
review that book somewhere, but he never did. In
fact I told him not to trouble himself. In relation
with my work his policy seemed somewhat Machiavel-
ian; and I might say as Doctor Johnson remarked
to Lord Chesterfield : " The notice which you have
been pleased to take of my labors, had it been early,
had been kind; but it has been delayed till I am in-
different and cannot enjoy it; till I am solitary and
cannot impart it; till I am known and do not want
it." Those who are first to recognize the merit of his
work, the author never forgets. It is at the outset
that he most needs recognition; when it has become
the fashion to praise he does not need or value it so
highly.

Then I went alike to my friends and my enemies
of the San Francisco daily press. I placed in their
hands my book; told them I was now ready to have
it reviewed; that no reviews had as yet appeared
from any quarter, but that they would shortly appear
in the quarterlies, the monthlies, and the dailies of
Europe and America. Of their probable nature they
might judge somewhat from letters which I had re-
ceived and which I spread out before them.

As it was an important work, I begged them to
examine it thoroughly and review wholly upon merit.
This, eastern and European scholars would expect, as
the work emanated from California, and they would
certainly note what Californian journals said of it.
All w^ere gracious. None cared to run counter to the
profuse expressions of praise already in my possession.
The work demanded investigation, they said, and
should have it. It was an enterprise of which they
felt proud, and they heartily wished it every success.
The differences existing between them and the firm
should have nothing to do with this undertaking, which
must be regarded from a totally different standpoint.

DOES IT PAY? 325

I need not say that the daily papers of San Francisco
spoke well of the Native Races.

Publishing having been my business, and the Native
Races being my first book, persons have asked me if
it paid pecuniarily; and when I answered No, they
seemed at a loss what to make of it. Samuel John-
son says, "no man but a blockhead ever wrote except
for money." I will admit myself a blockhead to the
extent that I did not write for money, but not so great
a one as not to know, after a publishing experience of
a quarter of a century, that work like mine never re-
turns a money profit. And with due deference to the
learned doctor I hold rather with John Stuart Mill,
who says that "the writings by which one can live
are not the writings which themselves live, and are
never those in which the writer does his best. Books
destined to form future thinkers take too much time
to write, and when written, come, in general, too
slowly into notice and repute to be relied on for sub-
sistence." Or, as Mrs Browning more tersely puts it,
"In England no one lives by books that live." The
Native Races did not pay pecuniarily, though the re-
turns were greater than I had anticipated. The book
was wholly written and put in type on the Market-
street premises.

CHAPTER XIV.

A LITERARY PILGRIM.

Freuden von ausnehmendem Geschmack wie Ananas haben das Schlimnie,
dass sie wie Ananas das Zahnfleisch bluten machen.

Jean Paul Richter.

I SET out on my pilgrimage the 3d of August, 1874,
taking with me my daughter Kate, to place in school
at Farmington, Connecticut. After a few days' stay
at Buffalo with my two sisters, Mrs Palmer and Mrs
Trevett, I proceeded to New York.

The one hundred author's copies of volume i. had
been printed at our establishment in San Francisco,
and the plates sent east before my departure. Twenty-
five copies of the work accompanied the plates; be-
sides these I carried in my trunk printed sheets of
the Native Races so far as then in type, namely the
whole of volume i., one hundred and fifty pages of
volume II., four hundred pages of volume iii., and one
hundred pages of volume iv.

Beside seeking the countenance and sympathy of
scholars in my enterprise, it was part of my errand
to find a publisher. As the plates had not arrived
when I reached New York I concluded to leave the
matter of publishing for the present, direct my course
toward Boston, and dive at once in luminis oras.

It was Saturday, the 15th of August, and I had
promised to spend Sunday with some friends at
Bridgeport.

At the New Haven railway station I encountered
President Gilman, to whom I made known the nature
of my mission, and asked if he deemed it the proper

(326)

AMONG FRIENDS. 327

thing for me to do. He thought that it was, and
named several persons whom I should see. Further
than this, he spoke of a meeting of the scientific as-
sociation to be held in Hartford the following Tuesday,
and advised me to attend, saying that he would be
there and would take pleasure in introducing me to
those whose acquaintance might be advantageous. I
thanked him and we parted.

I was very restless in the company of my friends;
I could not remain in Buffalo, I could not remain
quietly a day or two in Bridgeport. It seemed that
the kinder they were the less I could endure inaction.
On Monday I went to New Haven. There I saw
Mr James Walker, who had married my cousin
Martha Johnstone. Walker was a pleasant, genial
fellow, had lived long in New Haven, and was well
acquainted with many of the college professors. He
took a lively interest in my work, and was ever ready
to serve me.

We started immediately to call on some of those
more prominent in literature. I then found that the
very worst time in the year had been selected to make
these visits, for it was the summer vacation, and most
of the college professors and literary workers were
away.

Therefore I concluded to leave New Haven for the
present and call again on my return. Besiding there
was my aunt Mrs Johnstone and my favorite cousin,
Villa, a cheerful, enduring little piece of independence
and self-sacrifice, whose bright face ever greeted me
with radiant smiles, so that to call again at New
Haven was not an unpleasant task. The Johnstones
were returned missionaries from Smyrna, where the
best years of their lives had been spent in the service
of the Lord, as managed by the protestant board of
foreign missions ; and having now become aged and
worthless in this service they were turned loose upon
the common to shift for themselves. Unaided by
any one this mother in Israel educated her sons and

328 A LITERARY PILGRIM.

daughters, and kept the wolf from the door, but how
she did it God knoweth.

In Hartford, Tuesday, President Gilman intro-
duced me to Professor Brewer of Yale, Doctor Asa
Gray of Harvard, and others. He also spoke of me
to several, among them Mr Warner of the Courant,
who, when I called upon him subsequently, treated
me with a scarcely anticipated kindness. I was then
in a humor to be won for life by any man who would
take the trouble. It may seem weak, this super-
sensitiveness, but I was in a feverish state of mind,
and my nerves were all unstrung by long labor. I
was callous enough to ignorance and indifference, for
amongst these I had all along been working, but in-
telligent sympathy touched me, and Mr Warner's
manner was so courteous, and his words so encour-
aging, that they sank at once into my heart, where
they have remained ever since. He entered warmly
into my plans, gave me strong, decided letters to
several persons, which proved of the greatest advan-
tage, and on leaving his office I carried with me the
benediction which I know came from an honest pen.
''God bless such workers!"

While attending the meetings of the association
my attention was called to one Porter C. Bliss, whose
name was on the programme for several papers on
Mexico. Mr Gilman said I should know him, and
introduced me. He was a singular character both
without and within. Yankee in inquisitive push and
everlasting memory, he had been lately secretary
of the American legation in Mexico, and sometime
famous in Paraguay. I now remembered that his
name had been frequently mentioned to me as one
interested in Mexican antiquities and literature.

Universal looseness was the air of him, stiffened
somewhat by self-conceit. Though plain, or even
homely, in appearance, there was nothing servile in
his carriage, and the awkwardness of his address
was partially concealed by his assurance. Of a light

PORTER C. BLISS. 329

complexion, a little above medium height, with chin
well up and head thrown back, his large, gray, glassy
eyes looked straight before him, and his walk was as
one just started on a journey round the world. His
light clothes were neither neat nor well-fitting. His
small pantaloons, which crooked with his crooked legs,
stopped on reaching the tops of his low shoes, while
a short-skirted coat displayed his gaunt limbs to their
most unfavorable advantage. A tan-colored, broad-
brimmed slouched hat, set well back upon the head,
completed his attire, the tout-ensemble, including the
figure, having the appearance of the Wandering Jew
overtaken by Mexican highwaymen and forced to a
partial exchange of apparel with them.

His mind was no less disjointed than his manner.
Genealogy filled every available nook of his brain,
and constituted about nine tenths of his earthly in-
terests; the Bliss family's first, then that of any other
on earth above the rank of ape, it made no difference
whose or what, so long as listeners could be found to
his interminable stringings of sires and sons. His was
a disinterested devotion to other men's madness such
as is seldom seen. The American aborigines had given
him some little trouble, more particularly in the tumuli
they left scattered about Mexico, and in their lan-
guages, these being the subjects of his lectures in
Hartford. The Native Races appeared to confuse him
somewhat in this quarter, for after seeing my proof-
sheets he had nothing to remark upon the subject,
thinking probably that if he did know more about
those peoples than any one else, I had anticipated
all that he would say of them. Self was not least
in his esteem; although his personality he seemed to
regard in the abstract rather than as concreted body
and soul. He was one thing and Bliss another. Of
himself he thought little, talked little, cared little how
he was fed, lodged, or clothed; but for Bliss he had
much concern, regarding him as of good family, who
had not been well treated in Paraguay, and who had

330 A LITERARY PILGRIM.

done much work for little pay in Mexico. He gave
one the impression of an extract from a vellum-bound
Nahua vocabulary, a half- civilized cross between an
aboriginal American and an Englishman.

Yet all these peculiarities were but the alloy which
was to enable the good gold of his nature to endure
the wear of the world. After all, there was more of
the serpent's wisdom than cunning in him; and al-
though he entertained a wholesome respect for money
he was not mercenary; neither was his mind accus-
tomed to measure men by their wealth. To different
classes and conditions of men he seemed to apply
different standards of merit. He delivered his lec-
tures in a clear loud voice, without hesitancy or
embarrassment, and with his eyes fixed upon the op-
posite wall. The words came from his mouth like the
studied composition of a school-boy. His features
wore an expression of happy immobility. He loved
to talk; he loved to hear the sound of his voice;
and whether the benches were empty or full, whether
people came or went, admired or condemned, made no
difference to him. His piece he would speak, and
when spoken that was the end of it. His appetite
for reading was omnivorous and gluttonous. He de-
voured every newspaper that came under his eye. In
the reading-rooms of the hotels he was like a boa-
constrictor among rabbits, except that no matter how
many were swallowed he never lay dormant. He
was a walking waste-basket. Off-hand he could tell
you anything; but go with him below the surface of
things and he knew Httle.

I invited BUss to dine with me. He took to dinner
kindly, fed fast and liberally, and, the meal finished,
seemed satisfied. This augured well: the inner Bliss
knew what it wanted; sought it straightway; knew
when it had enough. A new philosophy might be
based on Bliss' feeding. I liked his movements under
the clatter of crockery. Mr Bliss informed me that
he had collected while in Mexico some three thousand

AT CAMBRIDGE. 331

volumes, which he was offering in whole or in part to
libraries. The books were then in New York, and I
might accompany him thither to select at pleasure.
The opportunity was too tempting to let slip; and,
while it was inconvenient for me to return to New
York at that moment, I did not like to lose sight of
my new and apparently erratic-minded friend.

''Where do you reside?" I asked.

'' Nowhere," was the reply.

''At what are you engaged?"

" Nothing."

" If you will accompany me to Boston on this mis-
sion of mine, I will pay your expenses, and leave you
in New York with many thanks."

" I will attend you with pleasure."

I do not know that this was a very wise move.
Myself, solus, cut a sorrowful figure enough, but my
companion doubled the dolor without adding much
diplomatic ability. True, he could assist me some-
what in advising whom to see and how to find them.
But this was not my main object in the arrange-
ment. He might have his books sold and be in Nova
Scotia, where indeed he talked of going on some-
body's genealogic business, before I had finished my
New England errand; and I took him with me so
that I might continue my pilgrimage without losing
him.

Friday, the 21st of August, saw us at the Bellevue
house, the establishment of Dio Lewis, a cross be-
tween a water-cure institution and a hotel. Bliss had
been there before, and recommended the rooms as
better than those of the hotels. I had a letter from
Mr Warner to Mr Howells of the Atlantic Monthly,
and next day I went over to Cambridge, where he
lived, to see him. He was absent from home, and not
expected back for a week. Inquiries as to the where-
abouts of certain persons revealed that most of them
were away, so that little was done till the following
Tuesday, when we started out in earnest. Proceeding

332 A LITERARY PILGRIM.

to Cambridge, the centre of the class to be visited, at
the suggestion of Mr BHss we called on J. G. Palfrey.
Mr Gilman had also mentioned Mr Palfrey as one
whom I should see. We were shown into a long room,
crowded with massive furniture, a bookcase at one
end, and books and pictures scattered about the room
in orthodox New England fashion. Grim portraits
adorned the walls; a thick, soft, flabby, faded carpet
covered the floor; and the place and its belongings
struck the visitor with a dismal dimmish sensation
most unprofitable.

This is a long way from my fifth floor, thought
I, with its plain pine tables, its bare floor, its dust
and disorder, its army of hard-headed young workers,
and its direct and practical way of doing things ; a cen-
tury away, at least, if not two. For fifty years this
man has handled literature, sacred and profane, while
less than a score tell all the ups and downs of my
wanderings in the field of letters. Student, professor,
preacher, postmaster, reviewer, historian, all within
cannon-shot of these impressive premises, surely here
if anywhere a literary pilgrim from the new unlettered
west should find broad sympathy and catholicity of
sentiment. Here was godliness with great gain,
learning with its reward; where should the humble
aspirant find encouragement, where should the un-
tutored ambition of the wilderness shores of the
Pacific find direction if not beneath the classic shades
of Harvard!

Now by Burritt, Le Brun, and Wild, blacksmith,
painter, and tailor, learned without alma mater labors,
what is this that comes? It is the antiquated genius
of this antiquated place. One glance is enough. In
that weazen face, in those close-fisted features, in that
pinched form and muck-worm manner, I see no excel-
lence for me to study. Such rubrics we of the fifth
floor erase, finding in them no worshipful supersti-
tion worthy our adulation.

My chief concern now was to beat a respectable

THE GODS OF HARVARD. 335

retreat, which I was proceeding to do forthwith, after
a few commonplace remarks intended to cover any
apparent rudeness, and without saying a word of my
work, when BHss broke in, told the whole story, and
asked if the learned historian of New England would
be pleased to look at the unlearned efforts of one who
aspired to write the record of the last and mightiest
west.

Then shook the attenuated form with its anti-
quated apparel, and loud lamentations broke from the
learned lips. " O talk not to me of new fields and new
efforts I" he cried. ''I am finished; I am laid upon the
topmost library shelf; the results of my life fill a
space against a few house-walls hereabout, and that
is all. Forgotten am I among men. Ask me to look
at nothing, to say nothing, to do nothing." This was
exactly what in my heart I was praying he would do —
nothing. So we gat ourselves upon the street.

Plodding feverishly along in a hot sun, with my
bundle of proof-sheets under my arm, we next en-
countered on the street one of those deities of whom
we were in search. In appearance he bore the simili-
tude of a man, but made and regulated with line and
plummet. His gait was angular, his dress exact, and
his glance geometrical; in fact he was in the mathe-
matical line. I forget his name, else I would give it^
for he struck me as the latest improvement in auto-
matic construction. Nor was I mistaken or disap-
pointed when from his equilateral mouth there came
the words, "No; I have not time for such things,
know nothing about them, have no interest in them."

I began to think I had mistaken my calling; that
with clerical cant and conventionalisms I might obtain
a hearing from these men, though for my life I can-
not now see what it would have advantaged me if
they had listened till nightfall and praised until morn-
ing.

However, we were destined in due time to come
upon men with hearts as well as heads; and first

334 A LITERARY PILGRIM.

among these was Doctor Asa Gray. We found him
in the botanic garden, and he heard us with attentive
interest. I presented him with a copy of my book,
which he said with my permission he would place upon
the shelves of the Harvard library. I objected. The
book was for him, if he would accept it. This fashion
of giving public libraries presented books I do not
relish. It is a sort of cheat practised upon the
author, who, if he wishes a library presented with a
copy of his book, prefers giving it direct instead of
through another; if he does not, another has no right
to so dispose of a book which was given him to keep.

It was my intention to ask eastern scholars to ex-
amine my book and give me an expression of their
opinion in writing; but in talking the matter over
with Dr Gray he advised me to delay such request
until the reviewers had pronounced their verdict, or
at all events until such expression of opinion came
naturally and voluntarily. This I concluded to do;
though at the same time I could not understand what
good private opinions would do me after public re-
viewers had spoken. Their praise I should not care
to supplement with feebler praise; tlieir disapproba-
tion could not be averted after it had been printed.

And so it turned out. What influence my seeing
these men and presenting them copies of my book had
on reviewers, if any, I have no means of knowing.
Directly, I should say it had none; indirectly, as for
example, a word dropped upon the subject, or a knowl-
edge of the fact that the author had seen and had ex-
plained the character of his work to the chief scholars
of the country, might make the reviewer regard it
a little more attentively than he otherwise would.
On the receipt of the fifth volume of the Native Races
Doctor Gray wrote me: "I am filled more and more
with admiration of what you have done and are doing;
and all I hear around me, and read from the critical
judges, adds to the good opinion I had formed."

Doctor Gray gave me letters to Francis Parkman,

ADAMS AND LOWELL. 335

Charles Francis Adams, and others. While at Cam-
bridge we called on Mrs Horace Mann, but she being
ill, her sister, Miss Peabody, saw us instead. With
eloquence of tongue and ease and freedom she dis-
sected the most knotty problems of the day.

James Russell Lowell lived in a pleasant, plain
house, common to the intellectual and refined of that
locality. Longfellow's residence was the most pre-
tentious I visited, but the plain, home-like dwellings,
within which was the atmosphere of genius or cul-
ture, were most attractive to me. How cold and soul-
less are the Stewart's marble palaces of New York
beside these New England abodes of intellect with
their chaste though unaffected adornments!

Lowell listened without saying a word; listened for
three or five minutes, I should think, without a nod or
movement signifying that he heard me. I was quite
ready to take offence when once the suspicion came
that I was regarded as a bore.

" Perhaps I tire you," at length I suggested.

" Pray go on," said he.

When I had finished he entered warmly into the
merits of the case, made several suggestions and dis-
cussed points of difference. He bound me to him
forever by his many acts of sympathy then and after-
ward, for he never seemed to lose interest in my labors,
and wrote me regarding them. What, for example,
could have been more inspiring at that time than
to receive from him, shortly after my return to San
Francisco, such words as these: ''I have read your
first volume with so much interest that I am hungry
for those to come. You have handled a complex,
sometimes even tangled and tautological subject, with
so much clearness and discrimination as to render it
not merely useful to the man of science, but attractive
to the general reader. The conscientious labor in col-
lecting, and the skill shown in the convenient arrange-
ment of such a vast body of material, deserve the
highest praise."

336 A LITERARY PILGRIM.

In Cambridge I called on Arthur Gilman, who went
with me to the Riverside Press, the establishment of
H. 0. Houghton and Company, where I saw Mr
Scudder, who wrote for Every Saturday. Mr Scudder
asked permission to announce my forthcoming work
in his journal, but I requested him to say nothing
about it just then. I was shown over the buildings,
obtained an estimate for the printing and binding of
my book, and subsequently gave them the work,
sending the electrotype plates there. One thousand
copies only were at first printed, then another thou-
sand, and a third; the three thousand sets, of five
volumes each, being followed by other thousands.

Wednesday, the 26th of August, after calling on
several journalists in Boston, we took the boat for
Nahant to find Mr Longfellow, for he was absent
from his home at Cambridge. Neither was he at
Nahant. And so it was in many instances, until we
began to suspect that most Boston people had two
houses, a city and a country habitation, and lived in
neither. From Nahant we went to Lynn, and thence
to Salem, where we spent the night undisturbed by
witches, in a charming little antique hotel.

During the afternoon we visited the rooms of the
scientific association, and in the evening Wendell
Phillips, who gave me a welcome that did my heart
good. A bright genial face, w*':h a keen, kindly eye,
and long white hair, a fine figure, tall but a little
stooped, I found him the embodiment of shrewd wis-
dom and practical philanthropy. There was no cant
or fiction about him. His smile broke upon his fea-
tures from a beaming heart, and his words were but
the natural expression of healthy thoughts.

He comprehended my desires and necessities on the
instant, and seating himself at his table he dashed
off some eight or ten letters in about as many min-
utes, keeping up all the time a rattling conversation,
neither tongue nor pen hesitating a moment for a

PHILLIPS, WHITTIER, LONGFELLOW. 337

word; and it was about me, and my work, and Cali-
fornia, and whom I should see, that he was talking.
Nor was this all. Next morning, in Boston, he handed
me a package of letters addressed to persons whom he
thought would be interested in the work, and whose
names had occurred to him after I had left.

Later he writes me : " Your third volume has come.
Thanks for your remembrance of me. I read each
chapter with growing interest. What a storehouse
you provide for every form and department of history
in time to come. I did you no justice when you first
opened your plan to me. I fancied it was something
like the French Memoires pour Servir. But yours is a
history, full and complete ; every characteristic amply
illustrated; every picture preserved; all the traits
marshalled with such skill as leaves nothing further to
be desired. Then such ample disquisitions on kindred
topics, and so much cross-light thrown on the picture,
you give us the races alive again and make our past
real. I congratulate you on the emphatic welcome
the press has eveiy where given you."

How different in mind, manner, heart, and head are
the men we meet I

John G. Whittier was a warm personal friend of
Phillips, and to him among others the latter sent me.
We went to Amesbury, where the poet resided, the
day after meeting Phillips in Boston. A frank, warm-
hearted Quaker, living in a plain, old-fashioned village
house. He gave me letters to Longfellow, Emerson,
and Doctor Barnard. ^'I have been so much in-
terested in his vast and splendid plan of a history of
the western slope of our continent/' he writes to Mr
Longfellow, " that I take pleasure in giving him a
note to thee. What material for poems will be
gathered up in his volumes! It seems to me one of
the noblest literary enterprises of our day."

*' This I will deliver," said I, picking up the one ad-
dressed to Longfellow, "if I am permitted to retain
it ; not otherwise. We in California do not see a letter

Lit. Ind. 22

338 A LITERARY PILGRIM.

from Whittler to Longfellow every day." He laughed
and replied: "My letters are getting to be common
enough now." I did not see Mr Longfellow, but he
wrote me very cordially, praising my book and regret-
ting he should have missed my call.

Informed that Professor Henry Adams, editor of
the North American Revieiv, was staying a few miles
from Salem, I sought him there, but unsuccessfully.
Next day I met accidentally his father, Charles Fran-
cis Adams, to whom I expressed regrets at not having
seen his son. He said he would speak to him for me,
and remarked that if I could get Francis Parkman to
review my book in the North American it would be a
great thing for it, but that his health and preoccupa-
tion would probably prevent. He gave me several
letters, and I left full copies of my printed sheets
with him.

Now of all things, ^ great things' for my book I
coveted. So to Parkman I went. I found him at
Jamaica Plains, where he resided during summer,
deep in his literary work. After all, the worker is the
man to take work to, and not the man of leisure.
Mr Parkman was a tall spare man, with a smiling face
and winning manner. I noticed that all great men in
the vicinity of Boston were tall and thin, and wore
smiling faces, and indications of innate gentleness of
character.

"This show^s wonderful research, and I think your
arrangement is good, but I should have to review it
upon its merits," said Mr Parkman.

"As a matter of course," I replied.

"I do not know that I am competent to do the
subject justice," he now remarked.

" I will trust you for that," said I.

And so the matter was left; and in due time sev-
eral splendid reviews appeared in this important
journal as the different volumes were published.

I was told to call on the Pev. James Freeman
Clarke. I did so, but he was not at home.

OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES. 339

Returning to Boston, we took the train for Concord
and sought Mr Emerson. He was gracious enough,
and gave me some letters, one to Doctor Draper, and
one to Mr Bryant; but in all his doings the great
philosopher was cold and unsympathetic. He was
the opposite of Wendell Phillips, who won the
hearts of all that stood before him. Bliss touched
a responsive chord when he broke out upon gene-
alotrv. Of course Bliss knew all about the Emerson
family, and easily established a distant relationship.
There were few families in New England with
whom the Blisses could not claim kinship. My com-
panion seemed to warm with the subject. It was his
practice now, the moment the topic of Native Races
was exhausted, to break forth on genealogy. That I
grew restless, took up my hat, or even rose to leave,
made no difference with him; when once launched
upon his subject he must go through all the gener-
ations, root, trunk, and branches. He quite thawed
Emerson before he left him. In my present frame of
mind I was quite ready to quarrel with any person
whose hobby came in conflict with my hobby, or
who did not regard my ettbrts with the considera-
tion I thought they deserved. I was possessed of an
idea.

From Concord we went again to Cambridge, to see
Mr Howells of the Atlantic Monthly. After some
conversation upon the subject it was finally arranged
that Bliss was to write an article of some ten pages
on my work for this magazine. There were many
others we called on, some of whom were at home and
some absent, among the latter much to my regret
Oliver Wendell Holmes, Edward Everett Hale, and
James T. Fields. From Doctor Holmes I subse-
quently received many letters, which brought with
them a world of refreshing encouragement. So genial
and hearty were his expressions of praise that the
manner of bestowal doubled its value to me. Few
can appreciate the worth to an author of encouraging

340 A LITERARY PILGRIM.

words at such a time and from such a source. '^The
more I read in your crowded pages the more I find to
instruct and entertain me," he writes. ''I assure you
that Robinson Crusoe never had a more interested
reader among the boys than I have been in following
you through your heroic labor."

And later he writes: ^'I have never thanked you
for the third volume of your monumental work. This
volume can hardly be read like the others ; it must be
studied. The two first were as captivating as romances,
but this is as absorbing as a philosophical treatise
dealing with the great human problems, for the reason
that it shows how human instincts repeat themselves
in spiritual experience as in common life. Your labor
is, I believe, fully appreciated by the best judges; and
you have done, and are doing a work for which pos-
terity will thank you when thousands of volumes that
parade themselves as the popular works of the day
are lost to human memory."

I very much regretted not seeing Mr Hale, though
I was gratified to receive a letter toward Christmas
in which he wrote: "At this time the subject has to
me more interest than any other literary subject. I
have for many years intended to devote my leisure to
an historical work to be entitled The Paeijic Ocean and
Its Shores. But I shall never write it unless I have
first the opportunity of long and careful study among
your invaluable collection." The library was placed
at Mr Hale's free disposal, as it was always open to
every one, but the leisure hours of one man, though
it should be for several lifetimes, I fear would not
make much showing beside the steady labors of ten
to twenty men for years. One Saturday we went
to Martha's Vineyard, where President Grant was
enjoying the intellectual feasts spread before him by
the encamped methodists.

I had seen all the chief literary editors of Boston,
and was well enough satisfied with the results. I
knew by this time that my book would receive some

THOMAS WENTWORTH HIGGINSON. 341

good reviews in that quarter. So I concluded to
leave Boston.

On our way to New York we stopped at Newport,
and called on T. W. Higginson, who like Gilman
aspired to the popular side of things. The result of
this interview was half a dozen letters, in which he
took care to state, that he might show, I suspect, how
guarded he was in avoiding imposition, that President
Gilman had introduced me, and that Clarence King
endorsed me. Afterward came a review of the Native
Races in Scrihners Monthly Magazine.

None were kinder or more cordial than Hig-
ginson, who on several occasions went out of his way
to serve me. As I was on my way to New York, I
saw his letters were directed to Mr Reid, Mr Kipley,
Curtis, Holland, Parton, Godkin, Ward, and others.
The first read as follows: "I wish to introduce a gen-
tleman whom I count it an honor to know, Mr H. H.
Bancroft, of San Francisco, who has been giving
wealth and time for years to a work on the wild races
of the Pacific States. His first volume shows a re-
search very rare in America, and is founded on his
own remarkable library of sixteen thousand volumes,
collected for the purpose. The book, if carried out
as it is begun, will be an honor to our literature. Mr
Bancroft asks nothing from us but sympathy and God-
speed. I have been most favorably impressed by what
I have seen of him personally, and am assured by Mr
Clarence King that he is thoroughly respected and
valued in San Francisco."

And again later in Scribriers Monthly: " It is safe
to say that there has not occurred in the literary his-
tory of the United States a more piquant surprise than
when Mr Hubert Bancroft made his appearance last
autumn among the literary men of the Atlantic cities,
bearing in his hand the first volume of his great work.
That California was to be counted upon to yield wit
and poetry was known by all; but the deliberate re-
sult of scholarly labor was just the product not rea-

342 A LITERARY PILGRIM.

8onably to be expected from a community thirty years
old. That kind of toil seemed to belong rather to a
society a little maturer, to a region of public libraries
and universities. Even the older states had as yet
yielded it but sparingly; and was it to be expected
from San Francisco? Had Mr Bancroft presented
himself wearing a specimen of the sequoia gigantea
for a button-hole bouquet it would hardly have seemed
more surprising."

Now in all this surely there was nothing very diffi-
cult. It was as the Boston correspondent of the
Springfield Repuhlican had said: '' Little or nothing
has been heard here of his labors, and the surprise
and pleasure with which so magnificent an under-
taking has been welcomed by eastern scholars must
have gratified Mr Bancroft."

It was no great achievement to visit these men and
command their attention. In one sense, no. And yet
in the state of mind in which I was then laboring, it
was one of the most disagreeable tasks of my life, and
strong as I usually was physically, it sent me to bed
and kept me there a fortnight.

I had been entirely successful ; but success here was
won not as in San Francisco, by years of tender devo-
tion to an ennobling cause, but by what I could not
but feel to be an humiliating course. I sought men
whom I did not wish to see, and talked with them of
things about which of all others it was most distaste-
ful to me to converse. It was false pride, however,
and my extreme sensitiveness that kept alive these
feelings. Good men assured me that I was not over-
stepping the bounds of literary decorum in thus
thrusting my work forward upon the notice of the
world; that my position was peculiar, and that in jus-
tice to my undertaking in San Francisco I could not
do otherwise.

I had met with much that was assuring, but I had
likewise encountered much that was disheartening.
I found here, as elsewhere in the afiairs of mankind,

CLIQUES AND COTERIES. 343

hypocrisies and jealousies. Literature has its coteries
and conventionalisms as well as all other forms of hu-
man association. Had I been able at this juncture
to adopt for a time bohemian life, — I do not mean in
its lowest aspects, but to have mingled with the better
class of book-fanciers, to have eaten and hobnobbed
with the dilettanti in literature, such a course would
for a time have had an effect on my undertaking ; but
it would have been of little lasting advantage, for the
work must stand, if at all, on its merits alone.

There are various cliques whose members regard
nothing, new or old, except through the eye-glasses
of the fraternity; religious cliques, some of w^hich
were ready to take exception to anything which may
be said about religion in general, but all ready to par-
don much that was not orthodox provided some sect
other than their own is severely enough criticised.
Then there are science cliques, and science fanatics,
which, when they get off on some pet theory, are as
bad as the religious fanatics. All the world must see
with their eyes, and reach conclusions in undemon-
strable proportions as they have done, or be anathe-
matized. A book, therefore, which touches religion
is sure to be roughly handled by some of religion's
many opposing champions, or if it conflicts with any
of the pet opinions of science, certain members of that
fraternity are obliged to rush to the rescue of some of
its immutable truths.

Besides these are newspaper parties and prejudices,
business and political cliques, all of which have their
codes of ethics, which signify self and party interests,
so that a book or author undergoing judgment must
be regarded from one or more of these points of view
before the matter of merit can be taken into consider-
ation. But in coming from the remote and unlettered
west I was free from any of these trammels, which,
though they might have helped me in one way, would
have hampered me in another.

From the beginning of civilization, I believe, by

S44 A LITERARY PILGRIM.

the east the west has been considered barbaric in
learning and literature. Greece first tauo^lit Rome,
Kome western Europe, Europe America, and eastern
America the western. Thus the east has always held
the west in some sort of contempt, so far as religion
and learning were concerned- The east was the origi-
nal seat of civilization, whence radiated tlie more re^
fined religion, with art, science, and literature. The
west has always been illiterate, infantile in learning,
with crude ideas in relation to all that creates or reg-
ulates the higher intellectual life.

All through the dark age the east hid learning, lest
peradventure it might be harmful to the west. Reli-
gions always arose in the east, and every western
prophet in all times and places has been without honor.
We are likewise indebted to the east for all of our
dark clouds of tyranny, superstition, priestcraft, and
kingcraft, for all the horrors of religious wars and per-
secution for opinion s sake, for the murder of millions
of human beings, for conceptions as absurd and void of
reason as any which ever flitted through the savage
mind. The opinions, dogmas, and practices which the
strono;er race has from the first endeavored to inflict
upon the weaker, the superior culture on the inferior,
have been for the most part false and iniquitous. The
inquisitorial rack and thumb-screw have not been em-
ployed for the propagation of truth but of error.
Witches were burned not because the victims were
witches, but because the superior power pronounced
them such. And all this time the west has been fight-
ing out its salvation, fighting for deliverance from the
tyrannies and superstition of the east. Mingled with
enforced errors of the east have been some grains of
truth which the west has in due time come to accept,
winnowing away the rest. The chaff has been moun-
tainous, the truth in scattered grains.

Therefore, lest the east should become too arrogant
and domineering in its superior culture, it may profita-
bly bear in mind two things : first, that as the west rises

JOHN W. DRAPER. 345

into supremacy the east decays, and that tliere is
now no further west for restless learning to reach.
Palestine and Egypt are dead ; the greatness of Athens
and Rome dates two thousand years back ; London is
growing old ; if New York and Boston do not some
time die of old age, they will prove exceptions to the
rule ; so that if the glory of the world be not some
day crowded into San Francisco, it will be by reason
of new laws and new developments. In a word,
Massachusetts and Connecticut may yet go to school
to Michigan and California.

In New York I met George Bancroft — ^with whom,
by the way, I am in no way related — who gave me a
letter to Doctor Draper, and was kind enough after-
ward to write :

''To me you render an inestimable benefit; for you
brino: within reach the information which is scattered
in thousands of volumes. I am glad to see your work
welcomed in Europe as well as in your own country.
In the universality of your researches you occupy a
field of the deepest interest to the world, and with-
out a rival. Press on, my dear sir, in your great
enterprise, and bring it to a close in the meridian
of life, so that you may enjoy your well earned
honors during what I hope may be a long series of
later years."

Doctor Draper was a man well worth the seeing;
from first to last he proved one of my warmest and
most sympathizing friends. After my return to San
Francisco he wrote me: "I have received your long
expected first volume of the Amative Races of the Pacific
States, and am full of admiration of the resolute man-
ner in which you have addressed yourself to that most
laborious task. Many a time I have thought if I were
thirty years younger I would dedicate myself to an
exploration of the political and psychological ideas of
the aborigines of this continent; but you are doing
not only this, but a great deal more. Your work has
taught me a great many things.- It needs no praise

346 A LITERARY PILGRIM.

from me. It will be consulted and read centuries after
you are gone."

On Friday, the llth of September, I had an inter-
view with Charles Nordhoif, during w^hich he agreed
to review my work, and requested me to appoint some
day to spend with him at Alpine, on the Hudson,
when we could talk the matter over. I named the
following Thursday. The day was rain^, but within
his hospitable doors it passed delightfully. I had lately
seen George Kipley of the Tribune, whom Wendell
Phillips pronounced the first critic in America, Mr
Godkin of the Nation, and several others, who had
given me encouraging words, so that I felt prepared
to enjoy the day, and did most heartily enjoy it.

I had likew^ise, the Tuesday before, completed ar-
rangements with Messrs D. Appleton and Company
of New York to act as my publishers, upon terms
satisfactory enough. I was to furnish them the work
printed and bound at my own cost, and they were to
account for the same at one half the retail prices.
The contract was for five years.

It is perhaps one of the severest trials of an author's
life, the first coming in contact with a publisher. It
certainly would have been so with me in this instance,
had I felt dependent on any of them. After having
spent all this time, money, and brain- work on my book,
had the printing and publishing of it been at the
mercy of others, I should have felt very unhappy over
the prospect. But as I proposed printing the work
myself I had no fear regarding a publisher.

But there was still enough of negotiating to make
me feel more keenly than ever before what it is to
bring one's brains to market. There before the august
magnate lies for dissection the author's work, the
results of years of patient toil, representing innumer-
able headaches and heartaches, self-sacrifice, weari-
ness of soul, and ill-afibrded money. Author and
publisher are in solemn deliberation. One regards
this unborn book with that fond enthusiasm by which

THE PUBLISHERS. 347

alone a writer is sustained in his work, the value of
which he measures by the pains and sufferings it has
cost him. The other eyes it with suspicion, looks
upon the author and his work with a cold commercial
eye, concerned not a whit for the worth of the man
or for the value of the book to mankind. The dol-
lars that are in it, that is all the brain-dealer cares
about.

Since I should require some copies in San Fran-
cisco, and some in London, Paris, and Leipsic, I had
concluded to do my own printing, and arrange with
certain publishers to act for me. Mr James C. Derby,
brother of George H. Derby, to whom I was indebted
for my initiation into the book business, was then
manager of Appleton's subscription department, and
under his direction my book fell. Very little work was
put upon it, for the subscription department was
crowded with books in which the house had deeper
pecuniary interest than in mine; yet I was satisfied
with the sales and with the general management of
the business.

One of the first things to be done on my return to
New York from Boston was to examine the collection
of books Mr Bliss had made while in Mexico and
select such as I wanted. This was the agreement: I
was to take every book which ni}'^ collection lacked,
and should I select from his collection copies of some
books which were in mine, such duplicates were to be
returned to him. In a private house near Astor place.
Bliss had taken rooms, and there he had his books
brought and the cases opened. We looked at them
all systematically, and such as I was not sure of pos-
sessing were laid aside. The result was an addition
to the library of some four or five hundred volumes,
sent to San Francisco in six cases. To make sure
of these books, I looked after them myself; I would
not intrust them to the care of any one until they
were safely delivered to the railway company, with
the shipping receipt in my pocket.

348 A LITEEARY PILGRIM.

The 30th of September saw me again in New
Haven. President Porter and most of the professors
had returned. By this time the enthusiasm with
which I was wont to tell my story during the earlier
stages of my pilgrimage had somewhat waned. Never-
theless I must make a few calls. President Porter I
found exceptionally warm-hearted and sincere. He
gave me letters of strong commendation to President
Eliot of Harvard and to Pobert C. Winthrop. At
the next commencement he likewise enrolled my name
among the alumni of Yale as master of arts.

Thence I proceeded to see professors Marsh,
Brewer, and others. While wandering among these
classic halls I encountered Clarence King, who, young
as he was, had acquired a reputation and a position
second to no scientist in America. He was a man of
much genius and rare cultivation. In him were united
in an eminent degree the knowledge acquired from
books, and that which comes from contact with men.
His shrewd common-sense was only surpassed by his
high literary and scientific attainments, and his broad
learning was so seasoned with unaffected kindness of
heart and fresh buoyant good humor as to command
the profound admiration of all who knew him.

He ^vas my ideal of a scholar. There was an orig-
inality and dash about him which fascinated me. He
could do so easily what I could not do at all; he was
so young, with such an elastic, athletic brain, trained
to do his most ambitious bidding, with such a well
employed past, a proud present, and a brilliant future,
and withal such a modest bearing and genial kind-
heartedness, that I could not but envy him. His
descriptions of scenery are as fine as Buskin's and far
more original.

He had often been in my library, and meeting me
now at Yale he shook my hand warmly as I thanked
him for speaking so kindly of me to Mr Higginson at
Newport a few days before. After some further con-
versation I was about to pass on when he spoke again :

CLARENCE KING. 349

** How are you getting along?"

<< Very well," said I, '' better than I had anticipated."

'' Can I do anything for you?" he asked.

'' No, I thank 3^ou," I replied. Then suddenly
recollecting myself I exclaimed, "Yes, you can; re-
view my book in some journal."

" I will do so with pleasure, if I am competent."

" If you are not," said I, ''with all your personal
observations upon the Pacific slope, I may as well
cease looking for such men in these parts."

'' Well, I will do my best," he replied.

I then asked him for what journal he would write
a review. He suggested the North American or the
Atlantic. I told him Parkman was engaged for one
and Bliss for the other. Then he said he would con-
tribute a series of short articles to the Nation. When
I returned to New York I saw Godkin. Any jour-
nalist was glad to print anything Clarence King would
write, so that Mr Godkin readily assented to admit in
the columns of the Aa^/oTi Mr King's reviewof my work.

I was greatly disappointed, now that King had
agreed to write, that his article could not appear in
the Atlantic, where were first published his matchless
chapters on Mountaineering in the Sierra Nevada,
That, however, was out of the question, as Bliss was
engaged for that article, and probably had it finished
by this time.

Meanwhile Mr Howells wrote me: ''I have not
heard a word from Mr Bliss, and it is quite too late
to get anything about your book into the November
number." I immediately called on Bliss. He was
buried deep in some new subject. The money I had
given him for his books had made him comparatively
independent, and when he had revelled in reading and
tobacco smoke for a time, and had concluded his
literary debauch, there would be time enough left to
apply himself to the relief of corporeal necessities.

''Bliss, how progresses that article for the Atlan-
tic?'' I asked him.

350 A LITERARY PILGRIM.

" Finely," he replied. " I have it nearly completed."

" Show me some of it, will you? I want to see how
it reads."

" I cannot show it you in its present' state," he
stammered. ''Next time you come in you shall see
it."

I was satisfied he had not touched it, and I wrote
Howclls as much, at the same time mentioning my
interview with King.

''I wrote you some days ago," Howells replied,
under date of October 7, 1874, "that Mr Bhss had
not sent me a review of your book, after promising to
do so within ten days from the time when he called
with you. So if Mr King will review it for me I
shall be delighted." At the same time Howells tele-
graphed me, "Ask Clarence King to write review."
Again I sought the retreat of Bliss. I found him
still oblivious. The fact is, I think my peripatetic
friend trembled somewhat at the responsibility of his
position, and he had betaken himself to a vigorous
literary whistling to keep his courage up.

When once cornered, he admitted he had not
written a word of the proposed review. I then told
him of Clarence King's offer and Mr Howells' wishes,
and asked him if he would be willing to give his re-
view, which I knew he would never write, to some
other journal. He cheerfully expressed his willing-
ness to do so, and congratulated me on having secured
so able a writer as Mr Kino\ Therein he acted the
gentleman. The 7th of December Mr Howells writes
me: "I've just read the proof of Clarence King's
review of you for the Atlantic — twelve pages of unal-
loyed praise." Concerning this review Mr King wrote
from Colorado the 6th of November: "Believe me,
T have found great pleasure and profit in twice care-
fully reading the Wild Tribes. Of its excellence as
a piece of critical literary combination I was fully
persuaded from the first, but only on actual study do
I reach its true value. Although the driest of the

WILLIAM CULLEN BRYAXT. 351

five volumes, it is simply fascinating to the student
who realizes the vital value of savage data. Ap-
preciating and enjoying your book as much as I do,
I yet find a difficulty I have never before experienced
in attempting to review it. The book itself is a
gigantic review, and so crammed and crowded with
fact that the narrow limits of an Atlantic review are
insufficient to even allude to all the classes of fact.
To even intimate the varied class of material is im-
possible. I rather fall back to the plan of following
you from the Arctic coast down to Panamd, tracing
the prominent changes and elements of development,
giving you of course full credit for the good judgment
and selection you have shown."

Professor J. A. Church reviewed the w^ork in an
able and lengthy article in the Galaxy; and for the
Nation the book was intrusted to Mr Joseph An-
derson of Waterbury, Connecticut, a most able critic.

I failed to see Mr Bryant, but was gratified by
the receipt of a letter in which he expressed himself
in the following words : '* I am amazed at the extent
and the minuteness of your researches into the his-
tory and customs of the aboriginal tribes of western
North America. Your work will remain to coming
ages a treasure-house of information on that subject."
The Californian journals printed many of the eastern
and European letters sent me, and Mr Bryant's com-
manded their special admiration, on account of its
chirography, which was beautifully clear and firm for
a poet, and he of eighty years. When will men of
genius learn to write, and those who aspire to great-
ness cease to be ashamed of fair penmanship?

The 2d of October I ran down to Washington
to see Mi" Spofford, librarian of congress, and John
G. Ames, librarian and superintendent of public
documents. I had been presented with many of the
government publications for my library for the last
ten years and had bought many more. What I wanted
now was to have all the congressional documents and

352 A LITERARY PILGRIM.

government publications sent me as they were printed.
Mr Ames informed me that he could send certain
books from his department. Then, if I could get
some senator to put my name on his list, I should
receive every other public document printed, twelve
copies of which were given each senator for distribu-
tion. This Mr Sargent kindly consented to do for me,
and to him I am indebted for constant favors during
his term in Washington.

Calling at the Hbrary of congress, I was informed
by Mr Spofford that for some time past he had in-
tended to ask my permission to review the Native
Races for the New York Herald in an article some
four columns in length. I assured him that for so
distinguished honor I should ever hold myself his
debtor. I then looked through a room crammed
with duplicates, to ascertain if there were any books
among them touching my subject which I had not in
my library. I found nothing. The regulations of
the congressional library required two copies of
every book published in the United States to be
deposited for copyright, and these two copies must
always be kept. Any surplus above the two copies
were called duplicates, and might be exchanged for
other books.

Early in the writing of the Native Races I had felt
the necessity of access to certain important works
existing only in manuscript. These were the Historia
Apologetica and Historia General of Las Casas, not
then printed, the Historia Antigua de Nueva Espana of
Father Duran, and others. These manuscripts were
nowhere for sale; but few copies were in existence,
and besides those in the library of congress I knew
of none in the United States. I saw no other way
than to have such works as seemed necessary to me
copied in whole or in part, and this I accomplished
by the aid of copyists through the courtesy of Mr
Spofford. The labor was tedious and expensive; but
I could not go forward with my writing and feel

AARON" A. SARGENT. 353

that fresh material existed which I had the money
to procure.

Several months previous to my journey to Wash-
ington Mr H. R. Coleman, who had long been in the
employ of our firm, and who in the spring of 1874,
while on a visit to the east, had kindly consented to
attend to some business for me, had been there with
letters of introduction to senators and others, and had
secured me many advantages.

From Philadelphia, under date of the 24th of April,
Mr Coleman made a full report. His mission was to
examine the works in the congressional library
touching the Pacific coast and ascertain what mate-
rial was there not in my collection. Then he must
set men at work extracting certain matter which was
described to him, and finally secure all the public
documents, either by gift or purchase, possible for the
library. I need only say that all this was accom-
plished by him to my entire satisfaction. ^'I found
there were plenty of copyists, mechanical geniuses, in
Washington," he writes, ''but few who could do this
work. The two manuscripts you spoke of I found
to consist of eight bulky quarto volumes, written in
a good clear hand. One of the persons I engaged
through the advice and assistance of Mr SpofFord
was a Frenchman, quite old, a man of experience,
and teacher of the French and Spanish languages in
Washington." Senator Sargent rendered Mr Cole-
man most valuable assistance, helping him to several
hundred volumes of books. The difficulty in collect-
ing government documents lies not in obtaining cur-
rent publications but in gathering the old volumes,
since few of the many departments retain in their
offices back volumes. I and my agents have visited
Washington many times on these missions.

Before leaving San Francisco I had placed the
management of the Native Races in London in the
hands of Mr Ellis Read, agent in San Francisco for
Scotch and English firms. Mr Read's London agent

Lit. Ind. 23

354 A LITERARY PILGRIM.

was Mr John Brown of Woodford, Essex, an intelli-
gent and wealthy gentleman, who from the first took
a warm interest in the work. After consultation with
a literary friend the publication of the book was offered
Messrs Longmans and Company of Paternoster Row,
and accepted on their usual terms: namely, ten per
cent, commissions on trade sale price, I to furnish them
the printed copies unbound, with twenty-five copies for
editors. A cable despatch from Mr Brown to Mr Bead
in San Francisco which was forwarded to New York,
conveyed to me the welcome intelligence— welcome
because publishers so unexceptionable had undertaken
the publication of my book on terms so favorable.

Longmans advised Brown to spend thirty pounds
in advertising, and if the book was well received by
the press to add twenty to it, and suggested that fifty
pounds should be deposited with him for that purpose.
Expenses in London were coming on apace; so that
almost simultaneously with the news that the Messrs
Longmans were my publishers, appeared a request
from Mr Brown for one hundred pounds. I was in
New York at the time, and not in the best of spirits,
and since I must bear all the expense of publication,
and furnish the publishers the book already j)rinted,
the further demand of fiye hundred dollars for ex-
penses which one would think the book should pay if
it were worth the publication, struck me peculiarly.

Nevertheless, I sent the money. I was resolved
that nothing within my power to remove should stand
in the way of a first and complete success. Again and
again have I plunged recklessly forward in my under-
takings regardless of consequences, performing work
which never would be known or appreciated, and but
for the habit of thoroughness which had by this time
become a part of my nature, might as well never have
been done, spending time and paying out money with
a dogged determination to spend as long as time or
money lasted, whether I could see the end or not.
After all, the business in London was well and eco-

THE LONGMANS. 355

nomicall}^ managed. It would have cost me five times
as much had I gone over and attended to it myself,
and then it would have been no better done. I was
specially desirous my work should be brought to the
attention of English scholars and reviewers. I ex-
plained to Mr Brown what I had done and was doing
in America, and suggested he should adopt some such
course there. And I must say he entered upon the
task with enthusiasm and performed it well.

Enoflishman-like, Mr Brown thouQfht the London
edition should be dedicated to some Englishman prom-
inent in science or letters. I had no objections, though
it was a point which never would have occurred to me.
But it has always been my custom to yield to every
intelligent suggestion, prompted by the enthusiasm of
an agent or assistant, provided his way of doing a
thing was in my opinion no worse than my way.

Mr Brown suggested the name of Sir John Lub-
bock, and sent me a printed page: "I dedicate this
work to Sir John Lubbock, Bart., M. P., F. R. S., as
a tribute of my high esteem." In this I acquiesced, and
so the dedication was made. In a neat note Sir John
acknowledged the compliment, writing Mr Brown the
10th of February, "I am much gratified at the honor
of having so valuable a work dedicated to me."

To Mr Brown I had sent from San Francisco
copies of volume i., with letters enclosed, to about
a dozen prominent men in England, among them Her-
bert Spencer, Sir Arthur Helps, E. B. Tylor, R. G.
Latham, Sir John Lubbock, Tyndall, Huxley, Max
M tiller, Lecky, Carlyle, and Murchison. These vol-
umes, being ' author's copies,' bore no imprint, and my
publishers objected to their being given out without
the London imprint. So these copies were returned to
me by Messrs Longmans, and others given the gentle-
men I had named.

The acknowledgments made me by these men, re-
ceived of course after my return to San FranciscO;
were hearty and free.

356 A LITERARY PILGRIM.

Mr Herbert Spencer writes me: "In less than a
year I hope to send you the first volume of the Prin-
ciples of Sociology, in which you will see that I have
made frequent and important uses of your book ;" and
indeed nothing could be more flattering than the ref-
erences therein made to the Native Races. "During
my summer trip in Europe," says Mr Gilman in a
letter from Baltimore, "I have frequently heard your
great work spoken of, but nowhere with more com-
mendation than I heard from Herbert Spencer. I
am sure you must be more than paid for your labor
by the wide-spread satisfaction it has given."

Doctor Latham, the eminent ethnologist and lin-
guist, writes: "The first thing I did after reading it
with pleasure and profit — for I can't say how highly
I value it — was to indite a review of it for the Exam-
iner.'" I was greatly pleased with Mr W. E. H.
Lecky's letters, regarding him, as I did, as one of
the purest writers of English living. "I rejoice to
see the book advancing so rapidly to its completion,"
he says, "for I had much feared that, like Buckle's
history, it was projected on a scale too gigantic for any
single individual to accomplish. It will be a noble
monument of American energy, as well as of Ameri-
can genius." And again, "I was talking of your book
the other day to Herbert Spencer, and was gratified
to hear him speak warmly of the help he had found
in it in writing his present work on sociology. I
always think that to take a conspicuous position in
a young literature is one of the very highest intellect-
ual aims which an ambitious man could aspire to;
and whenever the history of American literature
comes to be written, your book will take a very high
place among the earliest works of great learning
America has produced." I was glad also to have so
graceful a writer as the author of European Morals
speak encouragingly of my style, which more than any
one thing connected with my work I had lamented.
" I must add, too," he concludes his first letter to me.

LATHAM, LECKY, HELPS. 357

'Hhat your style is so very vivid and flowing that
the book becomes most readable even to those who
take no special interest in the subject."

Sir Arthur Helps, writing just before his death, re-
marks: ''I think that the introductory chapter is
excellent; and what strikes me most in it is the ex-
ceeding fairness with which he treats the researches
and the theories of other inquirers into subjects akin
to his own."

I well remember with what trepidation I had
thought of addressing these great men before I
began to publish. I wondered if they would even
answer my letters, or take the trouble to tell me to go
to the devil. Then I thought upon it, and said to
myself, Though smaller than many you are bigger
than some, and the lowest polypus of a scribbler who
should address you, you would not hesitate to answer
kindly. Then I took heart and said again, Is not a
pound of gold as good to me brought by a donkey as
by a sage? I know these facts of mine are valuable
to men of science. They are the base of all their
fabrics; they must have them. And in the form I
serve them no great amount of discernment is neces-
sary to assure me that this material, when well win-
nowed, is in a shape more accessible than it was
before.

Of the newspapers and magazines containing the
best reviews and descriptions of the library, Mr
Brown purchased from fifty to five hundred copies,
and distributed them among the libraries, journalists,
and literary men of the world. Not having a proper
list of selected newspapers and of the libraries in
Europe and America, I employed the mercantile and
statistical agency association of New York to pre-
pare me such a list, writing them in two blank-books.
There were eight hundred and twenty European,
Asiatic, and colonial libraries written in one book,
and the European and American newspapers and
United States libraries in the other book.

358 A LITERARY PILGRIM.

It was through Mr Edward Jackson, correspondent
in San Francisco of the London Times, that the Native
Races was first brought to the notice of that journal.
Mr Jackson could not assure me positively that the
review would appear. Mr Walter, the editor, would
not enlighten Mr Jackson on the subject. I wished
to purchase four hundred copies of the issue con-
taining the notice of the Native Races, provided there
should be such an issue. And in this way I was
obliged to give my order to Mr Brown.

From London the 3d of April 1875 Mr Brown
writes: "At last the Times has spoken, and I have
succeeded in securing four hundred copies of the
paper by dint of close watching. When I saw the
publishers some time ago, w^ith the usual indepen-
dence of the Times they would not take an order for
the paper, or even the money for four hundred copies to
be struck off for me when a review did appear, and all
I could get was this, — that on the day a review ap-
peared, should a review appear at all, if I sent down
to the office before 11 a.m. they would strike off what
I wanted. So I kept a person watching — as I was
sometimes late in going to town — with money for the
review, and he luckily saw it in the morning, rushed
down to the office, and, he tells me, in less than a
quarter of an hour the extra four hundred copies were
struck off and made over to him. The copies are now
being posted according to the addresses you sent me."

In October 1874 one of the editors of the Kol-
nische Zeitung was in San Francisco and visited the
library frequently. He wrote for his paper a descrip-
tion of the library and the Native Races, besides
giving me a list of the German magazines and re-
views to which the book should be sent, and much
other valuable information. Dr Karl Andree of the
Globus, Dresden, expressed great admiration for the
work, and inserted several articles concerning it in
that most valuable and influential journal.

DAWKINS AND TYLOR. 359

In September 1875 the eminent English scholar
W. Bojd Dawkins called at the library, giving me
great pleasure in his visit. When I parted Avith him,
after showing him the attention within my power, I
supposed, as was usually the case, that I should never
see him again. It was with great pleasure, therefore,
that I received a letter the following spring. ^^ Your
wonderful book on the native races of the Pacific
States," he writes from Owens College, Manchester,
the 14th of February 1876, "has been handed to me
for review in the JSdinhurgh, and before I review it
I should be very much obliged if you could give me
information as to the following details : You will per-
haps have forgotten the wandering Englishman who
called on you at the end of last September, and who
had just a hurried glance at your library. Then I
had no time to carry away anything but a mere gen-
eral impression, which has haunted me ever since.
And strangely enough your books awaited my return
home. I want details as to your mode of indexing.
How many clerks do you employ on the work, and
what sort of index cards'? You shewed all this to me,
but I did not take down any figures. Your system
seems to me wholly new."

" Pray accept my heartiest thanks," writes Edward
B. Tylor the 25th of February 1875, " for your gift
of the first volume of your great work. I need not
trouble you with compliments, for there is no doubt
that you will find in a few months' time that the book
has received more substantial testimony to its value
in the high appreciation of all European ethnologists.
I am writing a slight notice for the Academy, par-
ticularly to express a hope that your succeeding vol-
umes may throw light on the half-forgotten problem
of Mexican civilization, which has made hardly any
progress since Humboldt's time. Surely the Old and
New Worlds ought to join in working out the ques-
tion whether they had been in contact, in this dis-
trict, before Columbus' time ; and I really believe that

360 A LITERARY PILGRIM.

you may, at this moment, have the materials in your
hands to bring the problem on to a new stage. May
I conclude by asking you, as an ethnologist, not to
adhere too closely to your intention of not theorizing,
while there are subjects on which you evidently have
the means of forming a theory more exactly and plenti-
fully in your hands than any other anthropologist."

Before making arrangements with Messrs Long-
mans I had said nothing about a publisher for the
Native Races in France and in Germany. I now re-
quested Mr Brown to ask those gentlemen if they
had any objections to my adopting such a course, and
on receiving information that they had not, I made
23roposals to Maisonneuve et C^®, Paris, and F. A.
Brockhaus, to act for me, which were accepted, and
copies of the volumes were sent them as printed by
Messrs Houghton and Company. All the European
publishers were anxious to have their copies in ad-
vance, so as to publish simultaneously; particularly
were they desirous of bringing out the book at least
on the very day it was issued in New York.

On accepting the publication of the Native Races
for France, Messrs Maisonneuve et C^® promised to
announce the work with great care in the biblio-
graphical journals of France and elsewhere, deliver
copies to the principal reviews, and use every exertion
in their power to extend its influence. Lucien Adam
of the Congres International cles Am4ricanistes re-
viewed the volumes in the Revue Litteraire et Poli-
tique, and kindly caused to be inserted in the Revue
Britannique of M. Picot a translation of Mr Park-
man's review in the North American. An able article
of twenty-five pages from the pen of H. Blerzy ap-
peared in the Revue des Deux Mondes of the 15th of
May 1876. Extended reviews likewise appeared in
Le Ter,ips, La Repuhlique Frangaise, and other French
journals. Mr Brockhaus, the German publisher, took
an unusual interest in the book, pronouncing it from
the first a work of no ordinary importance.

MY SCRAP-BOOKS. 361

I cannot enter more fully into the detail of re-
viewers and reviews; suffice it to say that two large
quarto scrap-books were filled to overflowing with
such notices of the Native Races as were sent me.
Never probably was a book so generally and so favor-
ably reviewed by the best journals in Europe and
America. Never was an author more suddenly or
more thoroughly brought to the attention of learned
and literary men everywhere.

Among the reviews of which I was most proud
were two columns in the London TimeSj some thirty or
forty pages in the Westmiiister Review, two columns in
the London Standard, lengthy articles in the North
American Review, the New York LEco d'ltcdia, Hart-
ford, Courant, Boston Post, Advertiser, and Journal;
Springfield Republican, New York Tribune, Christian
Union, Nation, and Post; British Quarterly, Edinburgh
Review, London Nature, Saturdaij Review, Spectator,
Academy, Philadelphia North American, Atlantic
Monthly; Scribners Magazine, Tlie Galaxy, Revue
Politique, Revue des Deux Mondes, Hongkong Press;
Zeitsclirift filr Lander, Mittlieilungen der Kais., etc.,
Europa tend das Ausland, Germany; and La Voz del
Nuevo Mundo. I might mention a hundred others,
but if I did, all would not be unadulterated praise.
A few so-called honors fell upon me after publication,
such as being made honorary member of the Massa-
chusetts historical society, the American Antiqua-
rian society, the Philadelphia Numismatic societ3%
and the Buffalo Historical society, for which due
thanks were given. Flattering recognitions came also
in form of diplomas and complimentary certificates.
Probably there w^as no subject connected with this
western coast which would have attracted the atten-
tion of so many of the first scholars of America and
Europe, which would have brought the author into
such prominence throughout the learned world, which
would have secured him such unlimited and unqualified
praise from every source.

362 A LITERARY PILGRIM.

It was a subject in which all were interested. The
study of society was the new and most attractive
study of the age. Everything relating to man, his
habitation and his habits, his idiosyncrasies and
his peculiarities, national, social, and individual, all
tauo^ht a lesson. The sas^e sat at the feet of the
savage, and there studied man as he is in a state of
nature, before he is disguised by the crusts and
coverings of society. "I could wish that the whole
five volumes were already available," writes Herbert
Spencer to me in February 1875, "and had been so
for some time past; for the tabular statements and
extracts made for the Descriptive Sociology by Pro-
fessor Duncan would have been more complete than
at present."

Among my warmest friends was Charles C. Jones
Jr. of New York, who reviewed the Native Races in
the Indej^endent, devoting several articles to each
volume. These articles, besides being critical reviews,
were analytical and descriptive essays, dividing and
taking up the subject-matter of each volume, with a
view of popularizing the theme. Mr Jones was fully
imbued with the subject, and his articles were very
interesting. To me he writes: "Your fifth volume,
ex dono aitctoris, reached me to-day. Fresh from the
perusal of its charming pages, I offer you my sincere
congratulations upon the completion of your magnum
opus. Great have been the pleasure and profit which
I have experienced in the perusal of the volumes as
they have been given to the public." The attention
of the American Ethnological society was likewise
drawn to the work by Mr Jones, and the author was
promptly made an honorary member of that body, with
the resolution " that the volumes which have already
appeared indicate patient stud}^, careful discrimina-
tion, and exhaustive research, and constitute a monu-
ment of industry and merit alike honorable to their
author and creditable to the literary effort of our
country."

QUOD DEUS BENE VERTAT. 363

Thus each great man found in it that which was
new and interesting to him in his special investiga-
tions, Yv^hatever those might have been, while the
attention of lesser scholars and the general reader
was attracted by a variety of topics. The statesman
found there the incipient stages of government; the
clergyman the early mythologies; the merchant, the
agriculturist, the physician, each might there learn
something of his occupation or profession and insti-
tute comparison between then and now. It did not fail
to touch even one of those several chords which in
the breast of the greatest of American humorists
vibrate for the gaiete de cceur of mankind. Of Mark
Twain and the Native Races says Charles Dudley
Warner, writing me the 11th of October 1876: "Mr
Clemens was just in and was in an unusual state of
enthusiasm over the first volume, especially its fine
style. You may have a picture of his getting up at
two o'clock this morning and, encased in a fur over-
coat, reading it till daylight."

In another respect the subject was a most happy
choice for me. While it attracted much more atten-
tion than pure history would have done, its imperfec-
tions of substance, style, and arrangement were much
more readily overlooked. In precise history critics
might have looked for more philosophy, more show of
learning, or more dignity of style. All I claimed in
the premises was faithfully to have gathered my facts,
to have arranged them in the most natural manner,
and to have expressed them in the clearest language.
These were its greatest charms with scholars, and
where so few pretensions were made reviewers found
little room for censure.

Tims it was that I began to see in my work a suc-
cess exceeding my wildest anticipations. And a first
success in literature under ordinary circumstances is
a most fortunate occurrence. To me it was every-
thing. I hardly think that failure would have driven

364 A LITERARY PILGRIM.

me from my purpose; but I needed more than dogged
persistency to carry me througli herculean under-
takings. I needed confidence in m}^ abilities, as-
surance, sympathy, and above all a firm and lofty
enthusiasm. I felt with Lowell, that ''solid success
must be based on solid qualities and the honest cul-
ture of them."

Then again to accomplish my purpose, which was
to do important historical work, it seemed necessary
for me to know wherein I had erred and wherein I
had done well. From the first success fell upon me
like refreshing showers, cleansing my mind and my
experiences, and watering all my subsequent efforts.
To the stream of knowledo^e which I had set flowinof
through divers retorts and condensers from my ac-
cumulations to the clearly printed page, I might now
confidently apply all my powers. As the king of
the Golden River told Gluck, in Ruskin's beautiful
story, v\^hoever should cast into the stream three
drops of holy water, for him the waters of the river
should turn into gold; but any one failing in the first
attempt should not succeed in a second; and whoso
cast in unholy water should become a black stone.
Thus sparkled my work in the sunshine of its success,
and the author, so far as he was told, was not yet a
black stone.

CHAPTER XV.

THE TWO GENERALS.

Ever since there has been so great a demand for type, there has been
much less lead to spare for cannon-balls.

Buhver.

Came to the library the 21st of October 1873
Enrique Cerruti, introduced by Philip A. Roach,
editor and senator, in the terms following: "He speaks
Italian, French, Spanish, and English. He can trans-
late Latin. He has been a consul-general and secretary
of legation. He is well acquainted with Spanish-
American affairs and the leadino^ men in those states."

The bearer of the letter stood before me, a man
three or four years under forty, slightly built, of
medium height, with a long thin face, prominent
square forehead, dark protruding eyes, and full mouth
drawn down at the corners, long neatly brushed black
hair and long thin mustache. His complexion was
a dark sallow; and there was a general flatness of
features and a drooping Quixotic melancholy per-
vading his entire physique. In his hand he held a
glossy new beaver, matching his glossy black hair,
but further than these there was nothing new or
bright about him, except his boots, which were well
polished. His clothes were cheap rather than shabby,
and the crevices of his coarse linen shirt-bosom were
well filled with clean white starch. Eyes, mouth, and
melancholy mustache, features and form, were now
all on the qui vive to know Avhat destiny would next
do with him. He was a unique copy, as Dibdin re-
marked of the Dieppe postilion.

( 365 )

366 THE TWO GENERALS.

In answer to my queries concerning his nationality,
education, and late occupation, lie informed me that
he was a native of Turin, of an old and highly re-
spected Italian family, that at the age of fourteen he
had deserted college and fled to Genoa, where he
embarked on a vessel bound for Gibraltar. In time
he found himself in South America, where for five
years he was consul-general in the United States of
Colombia, which position he resigned to rescue liis
friend General Mariano Melgarejo, then president of
Bolivia, from his falling fortunes. Appearing in arms,
his attempts in that direction failed. Besieged in the
seaport of Cobija he was forced to capitulate, and
finally to depart the country. After a tour of obser-
vation through the eastern United States he pro-
ceeded to Mexico, and after crossing every one of the
isthmuses of America, he came to California.

Although the applicant, either in his person or in
his history, did not impress me as one specially adapted
to literary labors, yet I had long since learned that
superficial judgments as to character and ability,
particularly when applied to wanderers of the Latin
race, were apt to prove erroneous. Further than
this, while not specially attractive, there was some-
thing winning about the fellow, though I scarcely
could tell what it was. At all events he secured the
place he sought.

Turning him over to Mr Oak, for the next three or
four months I scarcely gave him a thought. He at-
tempted at first to extract notes for the Natwe Races,
devoting his evenings to filing Pacific coast journals,
recording the numbers received, and placing them
in their proper places on the shelves. He was not
specially successful in abstracting material, or in any
kind of purely literary work ; the newspapers he kept
in good order, and he could write rapidly from dicta-
tion either in Spanish or English.

Quickly catching the drift of things, he saw that
first of all I desired historical material; and what next

ENRIQUE CERRUTI. 367

specially drew my attention to him was his coming
to me occasionally with something he had secured
from an unexpected source. When the time came for
my book to be noticed by the press he used to write
frequent and long articles for the Spanish, French,
and Italian journals in San Francisco, New York,
Mexico, France, Spain, and Italy. I know of no in-
stance where one of his many articles of that kind
was declined. He had a way of his own of making
editors do about as he desired in this respect.

Gradually I became interested in this man, and I
saw him interest himself more and more in my behalf;
and with time this interest deepened into regard, until
finally I became strongly attached to him. This at-
tachment was based on his inherent honesty, devotion,
and kindness of heart, though on the surface he was
bubble and bombast. Within was the strictest integ-
rity, and that loyalty wdiich makes one literally die
for one's friend; without was fiction, hyperbole, and
empiricism.

He was a natural adept in certain subtleties which,
had his eye been evil, w^ould have made him a first-class
villain; but with all his innocent artifices, and the
rare skill and delicate touch employed in playing upon
human weaknesses, he was on the whole a pure-minded
man. I used to fancy I despised flattery, but I con-
fess I enjoyed not more Nemos' caustic criticisms than
Cerruti's oily unctions, which were laid on so grace-
fully, so tenderly, and withal so liberally, and with the
air of one to whom it made little difference whether
you believed him in earnest or not ; for he well knew
that I understood him thoroughly, and accepted his
compliments at their value. He was the only man
whose flummery, even in homoeopathic doses, did not
sicken me. There was something so princely in his
blandiloquence that I could not but forgive him as
fast as it was uttered. He was not in the least a
flunky; there was no fawning about him ; he was a man
and a gentleman, a high and honorable personage,

368 THE TWO GENERALS.

with possibly an equal in America, but not a superior,
that is to say, taken at his own estimation.

Erect in his carriage, with chin up and glossy hat
thrown well back on the head, his demeanor was often
in strange contradiction to his somewhat withered
appearance. In his movements he was as lithe and
active as a cat, and of as tireless endurance. He was
a very early riser, and often had a half day's work
done before others were up. I do not know that I
ever heard him complain of being fatigued.

Montaigne's mistake is great when he exclaims,
''How much less sociable is flilse speaking than
silence !" To Cerruti, lying was the greatest luxury.
Neither wealth, station, nor learning could have
yielded him half the enjoyment. With Socrates, he
seemed to hold that the mendacious man of all others
is capable and wise, and if a man cannot tell a lie upon
occasion he displays glaring weakness.

He did not require, like Marryatt, duty to country
to warrant the practice. A half truth was worse
than the whole truth. Falsehood spun itself of its
own volition in his whirling brain, and he amused
himself by flinging off the fabric from his tongue.
It was habit and amusement; to have been forced
always to speak the truth would have been to stop the
play of the healthful vital organism. With Maximus
Tyrius he seemed to hold that '^a lie is often profitable
and advantageous to men, and truth hurtful."

Lying with him was a fine art. He used often to
talk to me as long as I would listen, while knowing
that I regarded every word he uttered as false. But
he took care to make it palatable. If one liked one's
praise thickly spread, he enjoyed nothing so much
as giving a friend his fill of it. And no one was
quicker than he to detect the instant his sweetness
nauseated. Praise is always acceptable if ministered
with skill; but as Horace says of Caesar, "Stroke him
with an awkward hand and he kicks."

LYING AS A FINE ART. 369

Every man's face Avas to Cerruti a barometer, indi-
cating the weather of the mind, and as with swiftly
selected words he played his variations upon the ex-
pectations, the passions, or aspirations of his listener,
he read it with ease, and by the weight or pressure of
the soul-inspired atmosphere there indicated he regu-
lated each succeeding sentence of his speech. Herein
lay a strange power which he possessed over many
men. His mind was no less elastic than it was active.
Acute observation was a habit with him.

And yet in his lying, as in everything else about
him, he was harmless. He did not intend to deceive.
He did not expect his lies to be believed. Exagger-
ation came to him so naturally that he was for the
most part unconscious of it, and nothing surprised or
shocked him more than for a friend to construe his
speech literally and so act upon it.

He did not lie for gain; indeed, should so unpala-
table a thing as truth ever force his lips you might
suspect something of personal benefit at the bottom
of it. In his economy of deceit he would not Avaste
a good falsehood upon himself Reversing Byron's
statement, the truth w4th him w^as a lie in masquerade.
He was one of those of whom Pascal says: "Quoique
les personnes n'aient point d'interet a ce qu'elles disent,
il ne faut pas conclure de \h absolument qu'elles ne
mentent point, car il y a des gens qui mentent simple-
ment pour mentir."

Sheridan admitted that he never hesitated to lie to
serve a friend; and that his conscience was troubled
about it only when he was discovered. Cerruti was far
before Sheridan in this respect, that he was troubled
in mind about his lies only when they were taken for
truth. And yet blood must flow if ever the words
'you lie' were spoken.

Some tongues are so long that the lightest breeze
of brain will wag them; some brains so light, and so
full of light conceits, yet so heavily resting on the
consciousness, that, like the ancient mariner, a woful

Lit. Ind. 24

370 THE TWO GENERALS.

agony wrenches the possessor until his tale is told.
Cerruti finally came to be regarded a privileged char-
acter among those that knew him, liberty being given
him to talk as he pleased, his aberrations of speech
being charged to his genius and not to deliberate in-
tention. Solon counterfeited madness that he miG:ht
recite verses on Salamis in the market-place, to speak
which otherwise by law was death; Cerruti 's mad-
ness was constitutional.

He ate, drank, smoked, and slept: yet as to the
manner he was quite indifferent. He cared much
more for his personal appearance, and would wear as
good clothes as he could get; that is, they must look
passably well, though as to quality he was not par-
ticular. To sleep amongst old lumber in a garret, and
coolly assert he was stopping at the Grand Hotel;
to dine on three bits, and then talk of seven thousand
dollar bills of exchange which he carried in his pocket ;
to parade his illustrious connections, his daring deeds
in battle or on the ocean, the offices he had held, the
influence he had wielded, and the crushing effect at all
times of his enkindled wrath — these were among his
constant themes.

He would drink or not, as it happened; but I never
saw him drunk. Cigars, five for a quarter, seemed to
satisfy him as well as the purest Habana at twenty-
five cents each. A little sleep was acceptable, if con-
venient; if not, it was no matter.

He liked to be called general, even though he had
been but consul-general, even though he had been but
consul, even though he had slept but a fortnight in a
consulate. To ears so attuned there is something
pleasing in high-sounding titles, it making little dif-
ference whether the mark of distinction be rightfully
employed or not.

General Cerruti's ears were so attuned. He knew
that everybody knew there was no ground for apply-
ing such a title to him, and yet it pleased him. At

FURTHER ANALYSIS OF CHARACTER. 371

times he used greatly to enjoy boasting his present
poverty, flaunting it in most conspicuous colors, com-
paring what he was with what he had been, well
knowing that everybody knew he never had been
anything in particular. He used to carry a galvan-
ized watch, a large double-cased yellow stem-winder,
which he would sport ostentatiously and then boast
that it was bogus.

He, well knew that he was not a great man, and
never by any possibility could be regarded as such,
thouo^h like Parrhasius he dubbed himself kino^ of his
craft, and assumed the golden crown and purple robe
of royalty ; and yet above all things earthly he adored
the semblance of greatness, and arrayed himself so far
as he was able in its tattered paraphernalia. Of his
brave deeds while acting the part of revolutionist in
southern America he was as proud as if he had fought
at Marathon or Waterloo. He was an air-plant, rooted
to no spot on earth, without fixedness of purpose suf-
ficient to become even parasitic. He would not admit
himself ever to have been in the wrong, but the re-
sults of his follies and mistakes he charged to a cruel
and relentless fate. Forever the world turned to him
its shady side.

Notwithstanding his aggressive disposition he was
extremely sensitive. His pride was supreme, exposing
him to tortures from every defamatory wind. Touch
him in certain quarters, call in question his antece-
dents, criticise his past life, his family connections, his
present conduct, and you aroused him almost to frenzy.
Yet he was as quickly brought from the storm into
calm waters. Often with one kind word I have cooled
in him a tempest which had been raging perhaps for
days. Indeed, here as everywhere in life, clouds were
not dispelled by lightning and the thunderbolt, nor by
hurling at them other clouds, but by permeating them
with soft sunshine.

Under a brusque demeanor, and a gasconade ob-
noxious to some, he veiled an humble, kind, and loving

372 THE TWO GENERALS.

heart. In his affections he displayed a womanly ten-
derness, and was exceedingly careful and considerate
with the feelings of his friends. As Leigh Hunt said
of Charles Lamb, he was a compound of the Jew, the
gentleman, and the angel.

At first the young men in the library used to
laugh at him; but I pointed to the signal results
which he was achieving, and even should he prove in
the end knave or fool, success was always a convinc-
ing argument. A habit of talking loud and grandilo-
quently, especially among strangers, made Oak fearful
that Cerruti, while making an ass of himself, would
brinor us all into ridicule amonof sensible men. But,
said I, no sensible man brings us the material that
he brings. Indeed, to this quality of nervous ecstasy
or semi-madness the world owes much, owes its
Platos, its Newtons, and its Shakespeares ; to the
madness of eccentric times civilization owes its longest
strides.

Though keen-scented and bold in his search after
historical knowledge, he was neither impertinent nor
vulgar. Curiosity is the mainspring of all our intel-
lectualities, of all our civilities ; but there is a curiosity
which tends to ignorance, which finds its highest
qualification in gossip and coarse personalities. There
is a vulgar and debasing curiosity, and there is an
elevating and improving curiosity. To pry into the
commonplace affairs of commonplace men and women
is a mean and morbid curiosity; to study for purposes
of emulation and improvement the exalted charac-
ters of the great and good is a noble curiosity.

Of all studies, the analysis of human nature is to
me the most deeply interesting. And of all such in-
vestigations I find none more prolific than the anato-
mizing of the characters connected with these histori-
cal efforts. Every man of them represents one of a
hundred ; one success to ninety-nine failures. It would

CHIEF OF HISTORY- HUNTERS. 373

seem, then, that in this field certain quahties are
requisite to success; yet to attempt in ever}^ instance
to describe those essential qualities would involve the
writing of a volume.

Take, for example, this same warm-hearted genial
friend Cerruti. To see him in his quick, nervous
comings and goings; to hear him rattling away in his
off-hand, free, and fearless manner, on one subject and
another, apparently at random, apparently careless
and indifferent as to the correctness of his statements,
apparently as effervescent in mental qualities as a
bottle of champagne, one not knowing him might
take him as the last person to prove a valuable as-
sistant in precise historic investigation. Yet there
were few men truer, more conscientious, or more
efficient in their way.

He did what no one else connected with the work
could do, what but for him never would have been
done. He had not the scope and comprehensiveness,
or the literary culture, or the graceful style, or steady
application, or erudition to achieve for himself. But
he had what all of them together could not command,
power over the minds of men, consummate skill in
touching the springs of human action and in winning
the wary to his purpose.

I do not mean to say. that he could not write, and
in the Latin languages write eloquently; the many
manuscript volumes of history and narrative which
have emanated from his pen under the dictation of
eminent Californians and others prove the contrary.
His chief talent, however, lay in awakening an inter-
est in my labors.

But how was this necessary ? What need of special
efforts to make proselytes to a cause so palpably im-
portant; a cause neither asking nor accepting subsidy
nor pecuniary aid from state, society, or individual ; a
cause absolutely private and independent, and having
no other object in view than pure investigation and
an unbiassed recording of the truth? Surely, one

374 THE TWO GENERALS.

would think, such an enterprise would not require an
effort to make men believe in it.

Nevertheless it did. There were those, mercenary
minds, who could see nothing but money in it, who
having documents or knowledge of historical events
would not part with their information but for a price.
'All!' said they, 'this man knows what he is about.
He is not fool enough to spend time and money with-
out prospective return. He is a book man, and all
this is but a dodge to make at once money and repu-
tation. No man in this country does something for
nothing. No man pours out his money and works
like a slave except in the expectation tha.t it will
come back to him with interest. He may say he is
not working for money, but we do not believe it.'
Others, although their judgment told them that by
no possibility could the outlay be remunerative, and
that my experience in book-publishing was such that
I could not but know it, yet, in view of the interest I
took in the subject, and the money I was spending, in
every direction, in the accumulation of material, they
thought I might perhaps be induced to pay them for
their information rather than do without it.

No man of common-sense or of common patriotism
thought or talked thus ; but I had to do with individ-
uals possessed of neither sense nor patriotism, common
or uncommon. I had to do with men in whose eyes
a dollar was so large that they could not see beyond
it ; in whose eyes money was not alone the chief good,
but the only good; whose dim intelligence ran in
channels so muddy that no sunlight could penetrate
them. Thank God such men were few in California.
And let their names die ; let them bespatter no page
of mine, nor may my pen ever damn such a one to
immortality.

Another class, a large and highly respectable one,
was composed of men who for a quarter of a century
had been importuned time and again by multitudes of
petty scribblers, newspaper interviewers, and quasi

HOLDERS OF MATERIAL. 375

historians, for items of their early experience, until
the}^ tired of it. So that when a new applicant for
information appeared they were naturally and justly
suspicious ; but when they came to know the character
and quality of the work proposed, and were satisfied
that it would be fairly and thoroughly done, they were
leady with all their powers and possessions to assist
the undertaking.

In some instances, however, it required diplomacy
of a no mean order to convince men that there was
no hidden or ulterior object in thus gathering and re-
cording their own deeds and the deeds of their ances-
tors. The Hispano-Californians particularly, many
of them, had been so abused, so swindled, so robbed
by their pretended friends, by unprincipled Yankee
lawyers and scheming adventurers, that they did not
know whom to trust, and were suspicious of everybody.
Often had letters and other papers been taken from
their possession and used against them in court to
prove the title to their lands defective, or for other
detrimental purpose. Then there were individual and
local jealousies to be combated. One feared undue
censure of himself and undue praise of his enemy ; one
family feared that too much prominence would be
given another family. Then there were rival authors,
who had collected little batches of material with a
view of writing the history of California themselves.
I suppose there were no less than fifty brains Avhich
had been tenanted by the dim intention of some day
writing the history of California. All these had to
be won over and be made to see the great advantage
to the present and to future generations of having all
these scattered chapters of history brought into one
grand whole.

To accomplish somewhat of this was the work of
General Cerruti. Chameleon-like he would shift his
opinions according to the company, and adapt his
complex nature to the colors of time and place; with
the serious he could be grave, with the young merry,

376 THE TWO GENERALS.

and with the profligate free. With equal grace he
could simulate virtue or wink at vice. Hence, like
Catiline planning his conspiracy, he made himself a
favorite equally with men the best and the basest.

Another general: though likewise of the Latin
race, with all its stately misdirection, yet broader in
intellect, of deeper endowment, and gentler sagacity.
Among the Hispano-Californians Mariano de Gua-
dalupe Vallejo deservedly stands first. Born at Mon-
terey the 7th of July 1808, of prominent Castilian
parentage, twenty-one years were spent in religious,
civil, and military training; after which he took his
position at San Francisco as comandante of the pre-
sidio, collector, and alcalde. In 1835 he established
the first ayuntamiento, or town council, at Yerba
Buena cove, where was begun the metropolis of San
Francisco; the same year he colonized Sonoma, situ-
ated at the northern extremity of San Francisco bay,
which ever after was his home.

While Vallejo was general, his nephew Alvarado
was governor. In their early education and subse-
quent studies, for citizens of so isolated a country as
California then was, these two hijos del pais enjoyed
unusual advantages. To begin with, their minds were
far above the average of those of any country. Alva-
rado might have taken his place beside eminent states-
men in a world's congress; and as for literary ability,
one has but to peruse their histories respectively, to be
impressed with their mental scope and charm of style.

As a mark of his intellectual tastes and practical
wisdom, while yet quite young, Vallejo gathered a
library of no mean pretensions, consisting not alone
of religious books, which were the only kind at that
time regarded with any degree of favor by the clergy
of California, but liberally sprinkled with works on
general knowledge, history, science, jurisprudence,
and state-craft. These he kept under lock, admitting
none to his rich feast save his nephew Alvarado.

MARIANO DE GUADALUPE VALLEJO. 377

Thus were these two young men, destined to exercise '
so marked an iniiuence upon the impressible society
of Cahfornia, blest beyond parallel by this admis-
sion into the great school of free and interchangeable
thought.

General Vallejo was a man of fine physique, rather
above medium height, portly and straight as an arrow,
with a large round head, high forehead, half-closed
eyes, thin black hair, and side-whiskers. Every mo-
tion betrayed the military man and the gentleman.
His face wore usually a contented and often jovial
expression, but the frequent short quick sigh told of
unsatisfied longings, of vain regrets and lacerated am-
bitions.

And no wonder. For within the period of his
manhood he had seen California emerge from a quiet
wilderness and become the haunt of embroiling civili-
zation. He had seen arise from the bleak and shifting
sand-dunes of Yerba Buena cove a mighty metrop-
olis, the half of which he might have owned as easily
as to write his name, but of which there was not a
single foot he could now call his own, and where he
wandered well nigh a stranger; he had seen the grace-
ful hills and sweet valleys of his native land pass from
the gentle rule of brothers and friends into the hands of
foreigners, under whose harsh domination the sound
of his native tongue had died away like angels' music.

Look in upon him at Sonoma, at any time from
five to ten years after his settling there, and for a
native Californian you find a prince, one who occupies,
commands, and lives in rustic splendor. His house, a
long two-story adobe, with wing and out-houses, was
probably the finest in California. Besides his dusky
retainers, who were swept away by diseases brought
upon them by the white man, he had always on the
premises at his command a company of soldiers, and
servants without number. There he had his library,
and there he wrote a history of California, covering

378 THE TWO GENERALS.

some seven or eight hundred manuscript pages; but,
alas I house, history, books, and a large portion of the
original documents whicli he and his father and his
grandfather had accumulated and preserved, were
almost in a moment swept away by fire. This was a
great loss; but few then or subsequently knew any-
thing of the papers or the history.

He was stately and stiff in those days, for he was
the first power in northern California; to meet an
equal he must travel many leagues; afterward he
became less pretentious. The United States treated
him badly, and the state treated him badly, or rather
sharpers, citizens of the commonwealth, and in the
name of the state and of the United States, first
taking from him his lands, and then failing to keep
faith with him in placing the state capital at Vallejo,
as they had agreed.

Often have I regarded thee in mute and awe-
inspired astonishment, oh thou man of lost oppor-
tunities, that with all thy crushed ambitions, thy
subverted patrimony, and thy metamorphosed life,
thou shouldst still be so serenely happy ! Lord of all
this immensely wealthy peninsula of San Francisco;
lord of all the vast domain toward the illimitable north,
thou gavest to thy servants leagues of unencumbered
land and kept scarcely enough in which to bury thy-
self!

Prodigal to a fault were almost all this race of
Hispano-Californians ; charging the results of their
improvidence meanwhile upon those who had winked
at their ruin. Yet this Timon of Sonoma was never
Misanthropes, hating mankind.

"When gold was discovered, three thousand tamed
natives answered to his call; in the hall of his dwell-
ing at Sonoma, soon after, were stacked jars of the
precious metal, as though it had been flour or beans.
When one had leagues of land and tons of gold ; when
lands were given away, not sold and bought, and gold

LOST OPPORTUNITIES. 379

came pouring in for cattle and products which had
hitherto been regarded of scarcely value enough to
pay for the computation; when, for aught any one
knew, the Sierra was half gold, and gold bought
pleasure and adulation, and men liked adulation and
pleasure, what was to stay the lavish hand? For
holding the general's horse the boy w^as flung a
doubloon; for shaving the general the barber was
given an ounce and no change required; at places of
entertainment and amusement, at the festive board,
the club, the gathering, ouilces were as coppers to
the New Englander, or as quarters to the later Cali-
fornian.

Thus these most magnificent of opportunities were
lost; for native retainers could not breathe the blasted
air of civilization, nor was the Sierra built of soUd
gold.

A cloud would sometimes pass across his sunny
features in speaking of these things, and in moments
of special relaxation I have seen a tear in the bright
black eye; but like a child with its toy the merry-
making of the hour was never for more tlian a
moment marred by melancholy regrets.

Singular, indeed, and well nigh supernatural must
have been the sensations which crept over the yet
active and vigorous old gentleman as he wandered
amidst the scenes of his younger days. Never saw
one generation such change; never saw one man such
transformation. Among them he walked like one
returned from centuries of journeying.

'' I love to go to Monterey," the old general used
to say to me, ''for there I may yet find a little of
the dear and almost obliterated past. There is yet the
ocean that smiles to me as I approach, and venerable
bearded oaks, to which I raise my hat as I pass under
them; and there are streets still familiar, and houses
not yet torn down, and streams and landscapes which
I may yet recognize as part of my former belongings.
But after all these are only the unfabricated grave-

880 THE TWO GENERALS.

gear that tell me I am not yet dead." However, if
his was the loss somebody's must have been the gain.
As one pertinently remarks: '' Nations grow in great-
ness only through the sacrifice, the immolation of the
individual."

In his family and among his friends he was an ex-
ceedingly kind-hearted man. Before the stranger,
particularly before the importunate if not impudent
Yankee stranger, he drew close round him the robes
of his dignity. In all the common courtesies of life
he was punctilious, even for a Spaniard; neither was
his politeness affected, but it sprang from true gen-
tility of heart. It was his nature when in the society
of those he loved and respected to prefer them to
himself; it was when he came in contact with the
world that all the lofty pride of his Castilian ancestry
came to the surface.

Indeed, the whole current of his nature ran deep;
his life was not the dashing torrent, but the still
silent flow of the mighty river.

In his younger days he was a model of chivalry, a
true Amadis of Gaul ; and when age had stiffened his
joints somewhat, and had thickened the Hesh upon
his graceful limbs, he lost none of his gallantry, and
was as ready with his poetry as with his philosophy.
Indeed, he wrote verses with no common degree of
talent, and there are many parts of his history which
might better be called poetry than prose. And now
he comes upon us like a courtier of Philip II.,
awakened from a century-sleep upon a desert island.

His philosophy was of the Pythagorean type; he
was not always to tell all that he knew, and in deter-
mining whom to trust he was to be governed greatly
by his physiognomical discernment. He liked or dis-
liked a person usually upon sight or instinct. He was
a close and shrewd observer, and was usually correct
in his estimates of human character. His wisdom,
though simple and fantastic, w^as deep. He respected
the forms of religion from ancient association and

CHARACTER OF VALLEJO. 381

habit rather than from strong internal convictions
as to their efficacy. There was not the shghtest
asceticism in his piety; his was far too intelhgent
a mind to he under the curse of bigotry. Without
being what might be termed a dreamer in philosophic
matters, he possessed in a happy degree the faculty
of practical abstraction ; there was to him here in the
flesh a sphere of thought other than that answering
to the demands of the body for food and covering, a
sphere which to him who might enter it was heaven's
harmony hall. Thither one might sometimes escape
and find rest from every-day solicitudes.

In imperial Rome, had he not been born Octavius,
he would have been Maecenas, Caesar's chief adviser,
the friend of Virgil and Horace, politician, and patron
of art and literature, dilettante and voluptuary. In
his later life General Yallejo enjoyed that state of
calm and cheerful resignation which brings the
strongest endurance.

Altogether brave and bluff as a soldier, stern and
uncompromising as a man of the world, I have seen
him in his softer moods as sensitive and as sentimental
as a Madame de Stael. He was in every respect a
sincere man. To his honesty, but not to his discretion,
a friend might trust his fortune and his life. He
never would betray, but he might easily be betrayed.
Ever ready to help a friend, he expected his friend to
help him.

In common with most of his countrymen, his pro-
jects and his enthusiasms swayed violently between
extremes. He was too apt to be carried away by
whatever was uppermost in his mind. Not that his
character lacked ballast, or that he was incapable of
close calculation or clear discrimination; but never
having been accustomed to the rigid self-restriction
which comes from a life of plodding application, he
was perhaps too much under the influence of that
empressement which lies nearest the affections.

Yet for this same lack of selfish cunning, posterity

382 THE TWO GENERALS.

will praise liim; for an heroic and discriminating zeal
which, though impetuous, always hurried him forward
in the right direction, his children's children will rise
up and call him blessed. He was the noblest Califor-
nian of them all! Among all the wealthy, the pa-
triotic, and the learned of this land he alone came
forward and flung himself, his time, his energies, and
all that was his, into the general fund of experiences
accumulating for the benefit of those who should come
after him. His loyalty was pure ; and happy the god
in whose conquered city are still found worshipper^.

Pacheco might promise; Vallcjo performed. Als^a-
rado might be entertained into giving; Vallejo went
forth like a man, and making the battle his own,
fought it at his own cost, fought it not alone for self-
aggrandizement, but from motives of patriotism as
well. While demagogues were ranting of their de-
votion to country, offering for a liberal compensation
to sacrifice themselves at Sacramento or at Wash-
ington, General Vallejo was spending his time and
money scouring California for the rescuing of valu-
able knowledge from obliteration, and in arranging
it, when found, in form available to the world. Let
Spanish-speaking Californians honor him, for he was
their chief in chivalrous devotion to a noble cause!
Let English-speaking Californians honor him, for
without the means of some he did more than any
other for the lasting benefit of the country! Let all
the world honor him, for he is thrice worthy the
praise of all !

CHAPTEE XVI.

ITALIAN STRATEGY.

A few drops of oil will set the political machine at work, when a ton
of vinegar would only corrode the wheels and canker the movements.

CoUon.

General Vallejo was wary; General Cerruti was
wily. Rumor had filled all the drawers and chests at
Lachryma Montis, the residence of General Vallejo
at Sonoma, with priceless documents relating to the
history of California, some saved from the fire which
destroyed his dwelling, some gathered since, and
had endowed the owner with singular knowledge in
deciphering them and in explaining early affairs.
Hence, when some petty scribbler wished to talk
largely about things of which he knew nothing, he
would visit Sonoma, would bow and scrape himself
into the parlor at Lachryma Montis, or besiege the
ge-neral in his study, and beg for some particular pur-
pose a little information concerning the untold past.
The general declared that rumor was a fool, and
directed applicants to the many historical and bio-
graphical sketches already in print.

I had addressed to Sonoma communications of this
character several times myself, and while I always
received a polite reply there was no tangible result.
As Cerruti displayed more and more ability in gath-
ering material, and as I was satisfied that General
Vallejo could disclose more then he professed himself
able to, I directed the Italian to open correspondence
with him, with instructions to use his own judgment
in storming the walls of indifference and prejudice at
Lachryma Montis.

(383 J

384 ITALIAN STRATEGY.

License being thus allowed him, Cerruti opened the
campaign by addressing a letter to General Vallejo
couched, in terms of true Spanish -American courtesy,
which consists of boasting and flattery in equal parts.
He did not fail to state the fact that he also was a
general, and though but consul-general he had seen
service — that is, he would have fought had he not
felt constrained to run away. He did not fail to
state that he was a professional brewer of revolutions,
that he loved revolution better than life, that the
normal state of his Bolivia was revolutionary, and that
if the people of Sonoma wished their commonwealth
placed in an attitude hostile to the United States, if
they desired to see the streets of any opposition or
neighboring town deluged in the blood of its citizens,
he was theirs to command. He had heard of General
Vallejo, as indeed all Bolivia, and Italy, and every
other country had heard of him. Wherever Califor-
nia was known, there children lisped the name Vallejo;
indeed, the terms Vallejo and California were synony-
mous.

This letter as a matter of course was w^ritten in
Spanish. General Vallejo's letters to me were always
in Spanish, and mine to him were in English. But if
you wish to be one with a person, you will address him
in his own language. The date of Cerruti's letter was
March 24, 1874. The big fish of Lachryma Montis
approached the bait in good style and took a bite, but
did not fail to discover the hook ; accustomed to hooks
and baits it was in no wise afraid of them.

To the searcher after Californian truth Vallejo
was California, to the student of California's history
Vallejo was California; so Cerruti had affirmed in his
letter, and the recipient seemed not disposed to resent
the assertion. The writer loved truth and history;
he loved California, and longed to know more of her;
most of all he loved Vallejo, who was California on
legs. Not a word said Cerruti about Bancroft, his
Hbrary, or his work, preferring to appear before him

SPANIARD AND ITALIAN. 385

whom he must conquer as a late consul-general and
an exiled soldier, rather than one holding a subordi-
nate position.

The result was as he had desired. Courteously Gen-
eral Vallejo replied, at the same time intimating that
if Cerruti desired historical data he had better call
and get it. '^Sin embargo," he says, ^'por casualidad
6 por accidente, ese nombre estd, relacionado e identi-
ficado de tal manera con la historia de la AJta Cali-
fornia desde su fundacion hasta hoy, que aunque
insignificante, de veras, Sr Consul, la omision de ^1
en ella sera como la omision de un punto 6 una coma
en un discurso escrito 6 la acentuacion ortogrdfica de
una carta epistolar."

So Cerruti went to Sonoma, went to Lachryma
Montis almost a stranger, but carrying with him, in
tongue and temper at least, much that was held in
common by the man he visited. It was a most diffi-
cult undertaking, and I did not know another person
in California whom I would have despatched on this
mission with any degree of confidence.

Introducing himself, he told his tale. In his pocket
were letters of introduction, but he did not deign to
use them; he determined to make his way after his
own fashion. Cerruti's was not the story to which the
general was accustomed to turn a deaf ear. Further
than this, the Italian had studied well the character
of him he sought to win, and knew when to flatter,
and how. Spaniards will swallow much if of Span-
ish flavor and administered in Spanish doses. This
Cerruti well understood. He had every advantage.
In his rdle of stranger visiting the first of Califor-
nians, he could play upon the general's pride of
person, of family; he could arouse his wrath or stir
up soft sympathy almost at pleasure.

And yet the Spaniard was not duped by the Italian :
he was only pleased. All the while General Vallejo
knew that Cerruti had a defined purpose there, some

Lit. Ind. 25

386 ITALIAN STRATEGY.

axe to grind, some favor to ask, which had not yet
been spoken; and when finally the latter veered closer
to his errand and spoke of documents, "I presently
saw," said the general to me afterward, 'Hhe ghost of
Bancroft behind him." Nevertheless, Yallejo listened
and was pleased. "After making deep soundings,"
writes Cerruti in the journal I directed him to keep,
and which under the title Ramhlings in California
contains much reading, "I came to the conclusion that
General Vallejo was anxious for some person endowed
with literary talents to engage in the arduous task
of giving to the world a true history of California.
Having come to this conclusion, I frankly admitted to
him that I had neither the intelligence nor the means
required for so colossal an enterprise, but assured him
that Hubert H. Bancroft," etc. After a brief inter-
view Cerruti retreated with an invitation to dine at
Lachryma Montis the next day.

It was a grand opportunity, that dinner party,
for a few others had been invited, and we may
rest assured our general did not fail to improve it.
Early during the courses his inventive faculties were
brought into play, and whenever anything specially
strong arose in his mind he threw up his chin, and
lifted his voice so that all present might hear it. On
whatever subject such remark might be it was sure to
be received with laughter and applause; for some-
where interwoven in it was a compliment for some
one present, who if not specially pleased at the broad
flattery could but be amused at the manner in which
it was presented. How well the envoy improved his
time is summed in one line of his account, where with
charming naivete he says: "In such pleasant com-
pany hunger disappeared as if by enchantment, and the
food placed on my plate was left almost untouched" —
in plain English, he talked so much he could not eat.

Next day our expert little general was everywhere,
talking to everybody, in barber-shops, beer-saloons,
and wine-cellars, in public and private houses, offices

MAJOR SALVADOR VALLEJO. 387

and stores, making friends and picking up information
relative to his mission. First he wrote the reminis-
cences of some half dozen pioneers he had met and con-
versed with on the boat, at the hotel, and on the street,
writings which he did not fail to spread before General
Vallejo, with loud and ludicrous declamation on the
character of each. Thus he made the magnate of
Sonoma feel that the visitor was at once to become a
man of mark in that locality, whom to have as a friend
was better for Vallejo than that he should be regarded
as opposed to his mission. But this was not the cause
of the friendship that now began to spring up in the
breasts of these two men.

This display of ability on the part of the new-comer
could not fail to carry with it the respect of those
who otherwise were sensible enough to see that Cer-
ruti was a most windy and erratic talker. But his
vein of exaggeration, united as it w^as with energy,
ability, enthusiasm, and honesty, amused rather than
offended, particularly when people recognized that de-
ception and harm were not intended, but were the
result of habit. Here indeed was one of the secret
charms of Cerruti,this and his flattery. All Spaniards
delight in hyperbole.

Among Cerruti's earliest acquaintances made at
Sonoma was Major Salvador Vallejo, a younger
brother of the general, and from whom he took a
very interesting dictation. Major Salvador was born
in Monterey in 1814. He had been a great Indian-
fighter, and had many interesting events to relate of
by-gone times.

Often Cerruti would give great names to the shadows
of men, and find himself pressed to the wall by the
greatness he had invoked; often he was obliged to
allay by falsehood anger aroused by indiscretion.
Writing on the 29th of November 1874, he says:
''Major Salvador Vallejo has perused the Overland y
and is very much enraged that the writer of the
article on material for California history should have

388 ITALIAN STRATEGY.

given credit to Castro and Alvarado, who as yet have
not written a single hne, and that nothing was said in
reference to his dictation. I told him that the writer
in the Overland was not connected with the Bancroft
library, but he refused to believe what I said."

Thus the Italian continued, until a week, ten days,
a fortnight, passed without very much apparent head-
way so far as the main object of his mission was
concerned. The minor dictations were all valuable;
but anything short of success in the one chief direc-
tion which had called him there was not success.
Every day Cerruti danced attendance at Lachryma
Montis, spending several hours there, sometimes
dining, sometimes chatting through the evening. He
created a favorable impression in the mind of Mrs
Yallejo, made love to the young women, and flattered
the general to his heart's content.

This was all very pleasant to the occupants of a
country residence. It was not every day there came
to Lachryma Montis such a fascinating fellow as
Cerruti, one who paid his board at the Sonoma hotel
and his bill at the livery stable; and no wonder the
Vallejos enjoyed it. Uppermost in the faithful Ital-
ian's mind, however, throughout the whole of it was
his great and primary purpose. But whenever he
spoke of documents, of the Sonoma treasury of origi-
nal historical material. General Vallejo retired within
himself, and remained oblivious to the most wily arts
of the tempter. The old general would talk; he liked
to talk, for when he could employ his native tongue
he was a brilliant conversationalist and after-dinner
speaker. And on retiring to his quarters in the town
the younger general, Boswell-like, would record what-
ever he could remember of the words that fell from
his lips. Sometimes, indeed, when they were alone
Cerruti would take out his note -book and write as
his companion spoke.

But all this was most unsatisfying to Cerruti; and

SOMETHING FROM NOTHING. 389

he now began more clearly to intimate that the spend-
ing of so much time and money in that way would
be unsatisfactory to Mr Bancroft. Then he plainly
said that he must make a better showing or retire
from the field. If it was true, as General Vallejo had
assured him, that he had nothing, and could not be
prevailed upon to dictate his recollections, that was
the end of it; he must return to San Francisco and
so report.

This threat was not made, however, until the crafty
Italian had well considered the effect. He saw that
Vallejo was gradually becoming more and more inter-
ested in him and his mission. Tie saw that, although
the general was extremely reticent regarding what
he possessed, and what he would do, he was seri-
ously revolving the subject in his mmd, and that he
thouo^ht much of it.

But the old general could be as cunning and crafty
as the younger one, and it was now the Spaniard's
turn to play upon the Italian. And this he did most
skilfully, and in such a manner as thoroughly to de-
ceive him and throw us all from the scent.

While reiterating his assurances that he had noth-
ing, and that he could disclose nothing ; that when he
wrote his recollections the first time he had before
him the vouchers in the form of original letters, proc-
lamations, and other papers, which were all swept
away by the fire that burned the manuscript he had
prepared with such care and labor; and that since then
he had dismissed the subject from his mind; that,
indeed, it had become distasteful to him, and should
never be revived — while these facts were kept con-
stantly before Cerruti, as if firmly to impress them
upon his mind. General Vallejo would uncover, little
by little, to his watchful attendant the vast fund of
information at his command. Some anecdote, appar-
ently insignificant in itself, would be artfully inter-
woven with perhaps a dozen historical incidents, and
in this exasperating manner the searcher after histori-

390 ITALIAN STRATEGY.

cal facts would be shown a fertile field which it was
forbidden him to enter.

To keep the Italian within call, and that he might
not be so reduced to despair as to abandon further
attempts and return to San Francisco, Vallejo now
began also to feed his appetite with a few papers which
he professed to have found scattered about the prem-
ises, granting him permission to take copies of them,
and intimating that perhaps he might find a few more
when those were returned. There was his office, or
the parlor, at the scribe's disposal, where he might
write unmolested.

With a will Cerruti began his task. When it was
finished a few more papers were given him. At first
General Yallejo would on no account permit a single
paper to be taken from the premises. But work-
ing hours at Lachryma Montis must necessarily be
short, and interruptions frequent. Would not General
Vallejo kindly repose confidence enough to permit him
to take the documents to his hotel to copy, upon his
sacred assurance that not one of them should pass
out of his hands, but should be returned immediately
the copy was made? With apparent reluctance the
request was finally granted.

This made Cerruti hilarious in his letters to Oak.
General Yallejo was a great and good man, and was
rapidly taking him into his friendship, which was in-
deed every word of it true. And now in some un-
accountable way the papers to be copied rapidly
increased; more of them were brought to light than
had been thought to exist. The hotel was noisy and
unpleasant, and the copyist finally determined to rent
a room on the street fronting the plaza, where he
might write and receive his friends. There he could
keep his own wine and cigars with which to regale
those who told him their story, and the sums which
were now spent at bar-rooms treating these always
thirsty persons would pay room rent. Cerruti was
a close financier, but a liberal spender of other men's

COMING CONFIDENCE. 391

money. It is needless to say that as the result of
this deeply laid economic scheme the copyist had in
his office usually two or three worthless idlers drinking
and smoking in the name of literature and at the
expense of history, persons whom he found it impos-
sible to get rid of, and whom it was not policy to
offend.

Thicker and broader was each succeeding package
now given the brave consul-general to copy, until he
began to tire of it. He must have help. What harm
would there be, after all, if he sent part of each
package carefully by express to the Kbrary to be
copied there ? There was no risk. He could represent
to me that General Vallejo had given permission,
with the understanding that they must be returned
at once. Besides, it was absolutely necessary that
something should be done. Sonoma was an extremely
dull, uninteresting place, and he did not propose to
spend the remainder of his days there copying doc-
uments.

The method he employed, which would at once
enable him to accomplish his object and keep his faith,
was somewhat unique. Major Salvador Vallejo once
wishing Cerruti to spend the day with him, the latter
rephed: "I cannot; I must copy these papers; but if
you will assume the responsibility and send them to
San Francisco to be copied I am at your service."
Salvador at once assented, and ever after all breaches
of trust were laid upon his shoulders.

Thus matters continued for two months and more,
during which time Oak, Fisher, and myself severally
made visits to Sonoma and were kindly entertained
at Lachryma Montis. All this time General Vallejo
was gaining confidence in my messenger and my work.
He could but be assured that this literary under-
taking was no speculation, or superficial clap-trap, but
genuine, solid, searching work. Once thoroughly sat-
isfied of this, and the battle was won; for General
Vallejo was not the man to leave himself, his family,

392 ITALIAN STRATEGY.

his many prominent and unrecorded deeds, out of a
work such as this purported to be.

One day while in a somewhat more than usually
confidential mood he said to Cerruti: "I cannot but
believe Mr Bancroft to be in earnest, and that he
means to give the world a true history of Califor-
nia. I was born in this country ; I once undertook to
write its history, but my poor manuscript and my
house were burned together. I was absent from home
at the time. By mere chance my servants succeeded
in saving several bundles of documents referring to
the early days of California, but the number was in-
significant compared with those destroyed. However,
I will write to San Jose for a trunk filled with papers
that I have there, and of which you may copy for
Mr Bancroft what you please."

'^ But, General," exclaimed Cerruti, overwhelmed
by the revelation, ^^I cannot copy them here. Since
you have been so kind as to repose this confidence in
me, permit me to take the papers to the library and
employ men to copy them; otherwise I might work
over them for years. "

"Well, be it so," replied the general; '^and while
you are about it, there are two other chests of docu-
ments here which I have never disturbed since the
fire. Take them also: copy them as quickly as you
can and return them to me. I shall be more than
repaid if Mr Bancroft's history proves such as my
country deserves."

Now it was a fundamental maxim with Cerruti
never to be satisfied. In collecting material, where
I and most men would be gratefully content, acquisi-
tion only made him the more avaricious. As long
as there was anything left, so long did he not cease
to importune.

'' Why not multiply this munificence fourfold," he
said, " by giving Mr Bancroft these documents out
and out, and so save him the heavy expense of copying
them? That would be a deed worthy General Vallejo.

THE EVOLUTION OF A HISTORY. 393

Surely Mr Bancroft's path is beset with difficulties
enough at best. In his library your documents will
be safely kept; they will be collated, bound, and
labelled with your name, and this good act shall not
only be heralded now, but the record of it shall stand
forever."

"No, sir I" exclaimed the general, emphatically.
'^At all events not now. And I charge you to make no
further allusion to such a possibility if you value my
favor. Think you I regard these papers so lightly as
to be wheedled out of them in little more than two
short months, and by one almost a stranger? You
have asked many times for my recollections; those I
am now prepared to give you."

" Good !" cried Cerruti, who was always ready to
take what he could get, provided he could not get
what he wanted. "All ready, general; you may begin
your narrative."

"My friend," returned the general, mildly, "you
seem to be in haste. I should take you for a Yankee
rather than for an Italian. Do you expect me to write
history on horseback? I do not approve of this
method. I am willing and read}^ to relate all I can
remember, but I wish it clearly understood that it
must be in my own way, and at my own time. I will
not be hurried or dictated to. It is my history, and not
yours, I propose to tell. Pardon me, my friend, for
speaking thus plainly, but I am particular on this
point. If I give my story it must be worthy of the
cause and worthy of me."

To Cerruti it was easier to write a dozen pages
than to think about writing one. In the opinion of
Vallejo, such a writer deserved to be burned upon a
pile of his own works, like Cassius Etruscus, who
boasted he could write four hundred pages in one day.

But this rebuke was not unpalatable, for it lifted
the matter at once from the category of personal nar-
rative to the higher plane of exact history. It was
history, and nothing beneath it, to be written no less

394 ITALIAN STRATEGY.

from documentary than from personal evidence^ and
from the documents and experiences of others, as well
as from his papers and personal observations.

With June came the two generals to San Francisco.
The Vallejo documents were all in the Ubrary, and
round one of the long tables were seated eight Mexi-
cans copying them. One morning the Spaniard and
the Italian entered the library. I think this was
General Yallejo's first visit to the fifth floor.

It was to him an impressive sight. Passing the
copyists, who, with one accord signified their respect
by rising and bowing low, he was conducted to my
room. Savage, Nemos, Oak, Harcourt, Fisher, and
one or two Spaniards who happened to be acquainted
with the general, then came in; cigars were passed
and the conversation became general. The history of
California, with the Vallejo family as a central figure,
w^as the theme, and it was earnestly and honestly dis-
cussed. Two hours were then spent by the distin-
guished visitor examining tiie library. He was
attended by Mr Savage, who explained everything,
giving in detail what we had done, what we were
doing, and what we proposed to do.

It was very evident that General Vallejo was im-
pressed and pleased. Here was the promise of a work
which of all others lay nearest his heart, conducted
on a plan which if carried out would, he was con-
vinced, secure the grandest results. It was a work in
which he was probably more nearly concerned than
the author of it. If I was the writer of history, he
was the embodiment of history. This he seemed fully
to realize.

Cerruti saw his opportunity ; let my faithful Italian
alone for that! He saw Vallejo drinking it all in like
an inspiration; he saw it in his enkindled eye, in his
flushed face and firm tread. Before the examination
of the Hbrary was fairly finished, placing himself by
the side of his now sincere and devoted friend he
whispered, ''Now is your time, general. If you are

THE VALLEJO ARCHIVES. 395

ever going to give those papers — and what better can
you do with them? — this is the proper moment. Mr
Bancroft suspects nothing. There are the copyists,
seated to at least a twelvemonth's labor. A word
from you will save him this large and unnecessary ex-
penditure, secure his gratitude, and the admiration of
all present."

"He deserves them!" was the reply. "Tell him
they are his."

I was literally speechless with astonishment and
joy when Cerruti said to me, "General Yallejo gives
you all his papers." Besides the priceless intrinsic
value of these documents, which would forever place
my library beyond the power of man to equal in
original material for California history, the example
would double the benefits of the gift.

I knew General Vallejo would not stop there. He
was slow to be won, but once enlisted, his native en-
thusiasm would carry him to the utmost limit of his
ability; and I was right. From that moment I had
not only a friend and supporter, but a diligent worker.
Side by side with Savage and Cerruti, for the next
two years he alternately wrote history and scoured
the country for fresh personal and documentary infor-
mation.

"When I visited San Francisco last week," writes
General Vallejo to the Sonoma Democrat , in reply
to a complaint that the Vallejo archives should have
been permitted to become the property of a private
individual, "I had not the slightest intention of part-
ing with my documents; but my friends having in-
duced me to visit Mr Bancroft's library, where I was
shown the greatest attention, and moreover allowed
to look at thousands of manuscripts, some of them
bearing the signatures of Columbus, Isabel the cath-
olic, Philip II., and various others preeminent among
those who figured during the fifteenth century, I was
exceedingly pleased; and when Mr Bancroft had the
goodness to submit to my inspection seven or eight

396 ITALIAN STRATEGY.

thousand pages written by himself, and all relating to
California, the history of which until now has re-
mained unwritten, I could not but admire the writer
who has taken upon himself the arduous task of giving
to the world a complete history of the country in
which I was born ; and therefore I believed it my duty
to offer to him the documents in my possession, with
the certainty that their perusal would in some wise
contribute to the stupendous enterprise of a young
writer who is employing his means and intelligence for
the purpose of carrying to a favorable termination the
noble task of bequeathing to the land of his adoption
a history worthy of his renown."

I thanked the general as best I could; but words
poorly expressed my gratitude. The copyists were
dismissed, all but two or three, who were put to work
arranging and indexing the documents preparatory to
binding. A title-page was printed, and when the
work was done twenty- seven large thick volumes of
original material, each approaching the dimensions
of a quarto dictionary, were added to the library;
nor did General Vallejo cease his good work until the
twenty-seven were made fifty.

That night I entertained the general at my house;
and shortly afterward he brought his family from
Lachryma Montis and stayed a month with me, a por-
tion of which time the general himself, attended by
Cerruti, spent at Monterey writing and collecting.

It was in April 1874 that Cerruti began writing in
Spanish the Historia de California, dictated by M. G,
"Vallejo. It was understood from the first that this
history was for my sole use, not to be printed unless
I should so elect, and this was not at all probable.
It was to be used by me in writing my history as
other chief authorities were used; the facts and inci-
dents therein contained were to be given their proper
place and importance side by side with other facts
and incidents.

The two years of labor upon the Vallejo history

HISTORIA DE CALIFORNIA. 397

was clieerfuUy borne by the author for the benefit it
would confer upon his country, and that without
even the hope of some time seeing it in print. Un-
doubtedly there was personal and family pride con-
nected with it; yet it was a piece of as pure patriotism
as it has ever been my lot to encounter. General
Vallejo never would accept from me compensation
for his part of the work. I was to furnish an amanu-
ensis in the person of Cerruti, and the fruits of their
combined labor were to be mine unreservedly. As it
was, the cost to me amounted to a large sum; but
had the author charged me for his time and expenses,
it would have been twice as much.

This and other obligations of which I shall have
occasion to speak hereafter, I can never forget. Pos-
terity cannot estimate them too highly. General
Vallejo was the only man on the coast who could have
done this if he would; and besides being the most
competent, he was by far the most willing person with
whom I had much to do.

Yet this obligation did not in the slightest degree
bind me to his views upon any question. I trust I
need not say at this late date that I was swayed by no
palpable power to one side or another in my writings.
Knowing how lavish Spaniards are of their praises,
how absurdly extravagant their inflated panegyrics
sound to Anglo-Saxon ears, and how coldly calculating
English laudations appear to them, I never hoped to
please Californians ; I never thought it possible to
satisfy them, never wrote to satisfy them, or, indeed,
any other class or person. And I used to say to Gen-
eral Vallejo : " You being a reasonable man will under-
stand, and will, I hope, believe that I have aimed to
do your people justice. But they will not as a class
think so. I claim to have no prejudices as regards the
Hispano-Californians, or if I have they are all in their
favor. Yet you will agree with me that they have
their faults, in common with Englishmen, Americans,
and all men. None of us are perfect, as none of us

398 ITALIAN STRATEGY.

are wholly bad. Now nothing less than superlative
and perpetual encomiums would satisfy your country-
men; and, indeed, should I swell their praises to the
skies on every page, the most lying trickster of them all
would think I had not given him half his due in com-
mendation. I cannot write to please catholic or prot-
estant, to win the special applause of race, sect, or party;
otherwise my writings would be worthless. Truth
alone is all I seek ; that I will stand or fall by. And I
believe that you, general, will uphold me therein."

Thus I endeavored to prepare his mind for any un-
wholesome truths which he might see; for most as-
suredly I should utter them as they came, no matter
who might be the sufferer or what the cost. Indeed,
I felt sure that before long, in some way, I should
unintentionally tread upon the general's toes, for on
many points he was extremely sensitive. Cerruti felt
it his duty to be constantly urging me to write to and
wait upon the general; to be constantly reminding
me that this would please him, that he would expect
such a thing, or if I failed in this attention he would
think me offended; and thus my time was severely
taxed to keep this man in good humor. True, he was
not the fool that Cerruti would have me believe; and
yet, in common with all hidalgos, he thought highly
of himself and loved attention. It was this untiring
devotion which Cerruti could give, but I could not,
that first won Vallejo to our cause.

For several years, while busiest in the collection of
material, a good share of my time was taken up in
conciliating those whom I had never offended; that
is to say, those ancient children, my Hispano-Cali-
fornian allies, who were constantly coming to grief.
Some of them were jealous of me, some jealous of
each other; all by nature seemed ready to raise their
voices in notes of disputatious woe upon the slightest
provocation.

For example: General Vallejo had no sooner given
his papers to the library than one of the copyists,

LUBIENSKY AND ZALDO. 399

Lublensky, a Polish count he called himself, and may
have been so for aught I know, wrote the notary
Kamon de Zaldo, a friend of Vallejo, a letter, in
which he, the count, called in question the general's
motives in thus parting with his papers.

"It was to gain the good- will of Mr Bancroft that
these documents were thus given him," said the count,
"and consequently we may expect to see the history
written in the Vallejo interest, to the detriment of
other Californians."

When General Vallejo stepped into the notary's
office next morning, Zaldo showed him the letter.
Vallejo was very angry, and justly so. It was a most
malicious blow, aimed at the general's most sensitive
spot.

"It is an infamous lie I" the general raved, walking
up and down the office. "If ever an act of mine was
disinterested, and done from pure and praiseworthy
motives, this was such a one. What need have I to
court Mr Bancroft's favors? He was as much my
friend before I gave the papers as he could be. There
was not the slightest intimation of a compact. Mr
Bancroft is not to be influenced; nor would I influence
him if I could. I felt that he deserved this much at
my hands; and I only regret that my limited income
prevents me from supplementing the gift with a hun-
dred thousand dollars to help carry forward the good
work, so that the burden of it should not fall wholly
on one man."

While the general was thus fuming, Cerruti entered
the notary's office, and on learning the cause of his
anger endeavored to quiet him. As a matter of
course, on being informed of the circumstance I im-
mediately discharged the count, who was among those
retained to collate the documents, and who seemed to
have been actuated only by a love of mischief in
stirring up strife between the general and those of
his countrymen who had been thrown out of employ-
ment by his gift, which did away with the necessity

400 ITALIAN STRATEGY.

of copying. This, to many a slight thing, was more
than enough to upset the equanimity of my Spanish
friends. With half a dozen of them effervescing at
once, as was sometimes the case, it was no easy matter
to prevent revolution.

Of Cerruti's Ramblings there are two hundred and
thirteen pages. Portions of the manuscript are ex-
ceedingly amusing, particularly to one acquainted with
the writer. I will let him speak of a trip to San Josd,
made by him in June, I think, 1874. Just before
Cerruti set out on this journey General Vallejo came
again to San Francisco, notifying me of his approach
in the following words: "El mdrtes ire d San Fran-
cisco d visitar el Parthenon del que Usted es el
Pericles." When we remember how little Cerruti had
lived in English-speaking countries, and how little
practice he had had in writing and speaking English,
his knowledge of the language is remarkable:

"A few days after my arrival in San Francisco I
visited San Jose, well supplied with letters of in-
troduction from General Vallejo. My first steps on
reaching that city were directed toward the Bernal
farm, where dwelt an aged gentleman who went by
the name of Francisco Peralta, but whose real name
I could not ascertain. I gave him a letter of intro-
duction from General Vallejo. He read it three or
four times ; then he went to a drawer and from among
some rags pulled out a splendid English translation
of the voyages of Father Font. He took off the
dust from the manuscript, then handed it to me. I
looked at it for a few moments for the purpose of
making sure that I held the right document. Then
I unbuttoned my overcoat and placed it in my
bosom.

'' 'What are you doing, my friend?' shouted Peralta.

"I replied: 'Estoy poniendo el documento en lugar
de seguridad, tengo que caminar esta noche y recelo
que el sereno lo moje.'

"He looked astonished, and then said: 'I will not

LEAVES FROM CERRUTI 'RAMBLINGS.' 401

allow you to take it away. General Yallejo requested
that I should permit you to copy it. That I am
willing to do ; but as to giving you my Fontj that is
out of the question.'

"As I had brought along with me a bottle of the
best brandy, I called for a corkscrew and a couple of
glasses, and having lighted a segar I presented my
companion with a real Habana. Having accepted it,
Ave were soon enn^asfed in conversation."

The writer then gives a sketch of the settlement
and early history of San Jose as narrated by his aged
companion. After which he continues:

" I then tried to induce Mr Peralta to give me a
few details about himself, but to no purpose. I kept
on filling his glass till the bottle was emptied, but I
gained nothing by the trick, because ev^ery time he
tasted he drank the health of General Vallejo, and of
course 1 could not conveniently refuse to keep him
company. The clock of the farm-house having struck
two, I bid adieu to Mr Peralta, unfastened my horse
that had remained tied to a post during five hours,
and then returned to San Jose. Of course I brought
along with me the venerable Father Font! I have
heard that Peralta a few days later wrote to General
Vallejo a letter in which he said that I had stolen the
manuscript from him. He wrote a falsehood, well
knowing it to be such at the time he wrote. To speak
plainly, I will observe that the person who like Mr
Peralta goes under an assumed name is not much to
be trusted. His secret, however, is known to General
Yallejo; and should I be allowed to live long enough
I will surely discover it, because I have a peculiar way
of acquiring knowledge of things and persons, things
which I ought to know; and surely no person will
gainsay my right to know everything that is to be
knoAvn about my defamer."

When I learned how far the Italian had been
carried by his zeal in my behalf, I returned Peralta
the book with ample apologies.

Lit. Ind. 26

402 ITALIAN STRATEGY.

Cerruti now proceeded to the college at Santa
Clara, and thus describes the visit :

'' With reverential awe, cast-down eyes, and studied
demeanor of meekness, I entered the edifice of learn-
ing. As soon as the gate closed behind me I took off
my hat and addressed the porter, whom I requested
to send my card to the reverend father director.
Having said that much I entered the parlor, opened
a prayer-book that happened to be at hand, and began
to read the Miserere mei Deus secundura magnam mis-
ericordiam tuam, which lines recalled to my mind many
gloomy thoughts; for the last time I had sung these
solemn sentences was at the funeral of President Mel-
garejo, the man who had been to me a second father.
But I was not allowed much time for reflection, be-
cause presently a tall priest of pleasing countenance
entered the parlor, beckoned me to a chair, and in a
voice that reflected kindness and good-will begged of
me to explain the object which had procured for him
the pleasure of my visit. I then announced myself
as the representative of the great historian, H. Ban-
croft"— I may as well here state that whenever Cer-
ruti mentioned my name in the presence of strangers
there were no adjectives in any language too lofty to
employ — "notified him that my object in visiting the
college was for the purpose of having a fair view of
the library and of examining the manuscripts it con-
tained. I likewise assured him that though the history
was not written by a member of the church of Bome,
yet in it nothing derogatory to the catholic faith w^ould
be found. I added, however, that the bigoted priests
who had destroyed the Aztec paintings, monuments,
and hieroglyphics, which ought to have been preserved
for the benefit of posterity, would be censured in due
form, and their grave sin against science commented
upon with the severity required. He reflected a mo-
ment and then said : ' I see no reason why I should
object to have the truth made known. History is the
light of truth; and when an impartial writer under-

MOVEMENTS OF CERRUTI. 403

takes to write the history of a country we must not
conceal a single fact of public interest.'

"After saying this he left the room. In about two
minutes he returned with the priest who had charge
of the college library. He introduced his subordinate
to me and then added : ' Father Jacobo will be happy
to place at your disposal every book and manuscript
we possess.' The father superior having retired, I en-
gaged in conversation with the librarian, who forth-
with proceeded to the library, where I perceived many
thousand books arranged upon shelves, but found only
a few manuscripts. Among the manuscripts I dis-
covered one of about eight hundred pages, which con-
tained a detailed account of the founding of every
church built in Mexico and Guatemala. The manu-
script was not complete; the first eighty pages were
missing. There were also a few pages of a diary kept
by one of the first settlers of San Diego, but the rest
of the diary was missing. I copied a few pages from
this manuscript; then I tied together every document
I judged would be of interest to Mr Bancroft, de-
livered the package to the father librarian, and begged
of him to see the father superior and request his per-
mission to forward the bundle to San Francisco. He
started to fulfil my request, and assured me that
though he had no hope of success, because it was
against the rules of the college, he would make known
my wishes to his chief He was absent half an hour,
when he returned bearing a negative answer. Among
other things he said that the manuscripts I wanted to
send away did not belong to the college, but were the
property of some pious person who had placed them
under their charge, with instructions not to let the
papers go out of their possession. I felt convinced
that my reverend countryman was telling me the
truth, so I abstained from urging my petition; but I
limited myself to make a single request, namely, that
he would be so kind as to keep in a separate place
the package I had prepared. He agreed to it. I

404 ITALIAN STRATEGY.

embraced him Italian style, and then directed my
steps toward the residence of Mr Argiiello.

" I rang the bell of the stately dwelling in which
the descendant of governors dwelt, and having been
ushered into the presence of Mr Argiiello, I stated
to him the object of my visit. He listened with the
air of one anxious to impress upon my mind the idea
that I stood in the presence of a very great man.

" When I concluded my introductory remarks, he
said : ' Well, well, in all this large house, by far the
best one in Santa Clara, there does not exist a single
scrap of paper that could be useful to an historian. I
once found a great many documents that had been
the property of my grandfather, also some belonging
to my father, but I have set fire to them; I did not
like the idea of encumbering my fine dwelling with
boxes containing trash, so I got rid of the rubbish by
burning the whole lot.'

'^ Before Mr Argiiello had uttered four words I felt
convinced that I stood in the presence of a self-con-
ceited fool. With people of that class it is useless to
waste sound arguments and good reasoning. I knew
it to be the case by experience. Therefore without
uttering another word except the commonplace com-
pliments, I left the *best house in Santa Clara' and
took the road that led to the telegraph office, and
there addressed a telegram to General Mariano G.
Vallejo, requesting his presence in Santa Clara. I
took that step because I believed that Mr Argiiello
had told me lies. I thought it so strange that a son
who had reached the age of fifty years should be so
stupid as to burn the family archives. I also began
to fear that my plain talk had given offence ; therefore
I ventured to send for the good friend of Mr Ban-
croft, for the admirer of his perseverance, hoping that
the high respect in which Mr Argiiello held General
Vallejo would induce him to place at his disposal any
documents he might have in the house.

"After sending the telegram I visited an aged In-

THE ARGtJELLOS. 405

dian, by name Jose Maria Flores, so called because in
1837 he was a servant of a gentleman of that name
who presented a petition to the general government
for the purpose of retaining for the town of San Jose
certain tracts of land, which persons belonging to
other parts of the state were trying to get possession
of. Indian Flores, as soon as I addressed him, ex-
pressed his willingness to give me all the information
he could. Before proceeding he observed: *You will
have to send for a bottle of strong whiskey; nothing
like good liquor to refresh the memory of an Indian 1'
I took the hint and gave a boy two dollars, with in-
structions to fetch immediately a bottle of whiskey for
Uncle Flores."

Thus the Italian's narrative rattles along from one
thing to another, just like the author, with scarcely
pause or period. The aged aboriginal Flores gives
him some interesting gossip respecting early times;
then Vallejo arrives, and the two generals visit the
' best house in Santa Clara/ whose proprietor had
in some way evidently ruffled the consul-general's
plumes.

The widow of Luis Antonio Argiiello, and mother
of the burner of the family archives against whom
Cerruti had taken a violent dislike, received General
Vallejo with open arms, and invited the two generals
to dine with her. The invitation was accepted. The
paper- burner was there, watching the visitors very
closely. When dinner was nearly over, Cerruti, who
was so filled with wrath toward the four-eyed Ar-
giiello, as he called him, that he found little place for
food, exclaimed:

"Madame Argiiello, yesterday I asked your eldest
son to allow me to copy the family archives; but he
assured me that the archives and every other docu-
ment of early days had been burned by his orders.
Can it be possible?"

''Indeed, sir, I am sorry to say that it is true," she
replied. "And as she called to witness the blessed

406 ITALIAN STRATEGY.

virgin," continued Cerruti, ''I felt convinced that such
was the case."

The two generals called on several of the old resi-
dents in that vicinity, among them Captain Fer-
nandez, who freely gave all the documents in his
possession, and furnished a valuable dictation. Cap-
tain West, on whom they next called, at their request
sent out to Lick's mills and brought in the aboriginal
Marcelo, who laid claim to one hundred and twenty
years of this life.

Gradually working south, the two generals did not
stop until they had reached Monterey. To the elder
there was no spot in the country so pregnant with
historical events as this early capital of California.
There was no important town so little changed by
time and the inroads of a dominant race as Monterey.
There General Vallejo was at once thrown back into
his past. Every man and woman was a volume of
unstrained facts; hedges and thickets bristled with in-
telligence; houses, fences, streets, and even the stones
in them, each had its tale to tell. The crows cawed
history ; the cattle bellowed it, and the sweet sea sang
it. An interesting chapter could easily be written on
Cerruti's report of what he and General Yallejo saw
and did during this visit to Monterey ; but other aflfairs
equally pressing claim our attention.

CHAPTER XVII.

ALVARADO AND CASTRO.

God made man to go by motives, and he will not go -without them,
any more than a boat without steam or a balloon without gas.

BeecTier.

Next among the Hispano-Californians in historical
importance to Mariano G. Vallejo stood his nephew
Juan B. Alvarado, governor of Cahfornia from 1836
to 1842. At the time of which I speak he lived in a
plain and quiet way at San Pablo, a small retired
town on the eastern side of San Francisco bay. In
build and bearing he reminded one of the first
Napoleon. He was a strong man, mentally and physi-
cally. Of medium stature, his frame was compact,
and well forward on broad shoulders was set a head
with massive jawbones, high forehead, and, up to the
age of sixty, bright intellectual eyes.

In some respects he was the ablest officer Cali-
fornia could boast under Mexican regime. He was
born in 1809 ,which made him a year younger than his
uncle General Vallejo. Before he made himself gov-
ernor he held an appointment in the custom-house,
and had always been a prominent and popular man.
His recollections were regarded by every one as very
important, but exceedingly difficult to obtain.

First of all, he must be brought to favor my under-
taking; and as he was poor and proud, in ill health,
and bitter against the Americans, this was no easy
matter.

Alvarado had been much less Americanized than
Vallejo; he had mixed little with the new-comers, and

(407)

408 ALVARADO AND CASTRO.

could speak their language scarcely at all. In com-
mon with all his countrymen he fancied he had been
badly abused, had been tricked and robbed of millions
of dollars which he had never possessed, and of hun-
dreds of leagues of land which he had neglected to
secure to himself To the accursed Yankees were to
be attributed all his follies and failures, all his defects
of character, all the mistakes of his life.

Like Vallejo, Alvarado had often been importuned
for information relative to early affairs, but he had
given to the world less than his uncle, being less in and
of the world as it existed in California under Anglo-
American domination. Surely one would think so
able a statesman, so astute a governor as Alvarado,
would have been a match for stragglers into his terri-
tory, or even for the blatant lawyers that followed in
their wake. The same golden opportunities that
Vallejo and the rest had let slip, Alvarado had failed
to improve, and the fault was the ever-to-be-anath-
ematized Yankee.

Alvarado was a rare prize; but he was shrewd, and
there could be but little hope of success in an appeal
to the patriotism of one whose country had fallen
into the hands of hated strangers. We had thought
Vallejo suspicious enough, but Alvarado was more so.
Then, too, the former governor of California, unlike
the general, was not above accepting money; not,
indeed, as a reward for his services, but as a gift.

Almost as soon as General Vallejo had fairly en-
listed in the work he began to talk of Alvarado, of
his vast knowledge of things Californian, and of his
ability in placing upon paper character and events.
And at that time, in regard to this work, action was
not far behind impulse. Vallejo began to importune
Alvarado, first by letter, then in person, giving him
meanwhile liberal doses of Cerruti.

On one occasion the governor remarked to the
general, "It seems you insist that Mr Bancroft is
to be our Messiah, who will stop the mouth of bab-

A GOVERNOR TO WIN. 409

biers that insult us. I am of the contrary opinion in
regard to this, and will tell you why : I do not believe
that any American, a well educated literary man, will
contradict what the ignorant populace say of the Cali-
fornians, from the fact that the Cholada Gringa, or
Yankee scum, are very numerous, and take advantage
of it to insult us, as they are many against few. This
is a peculiarity of the American people. To these
must be added a great number of Irish and German
boors, who unite with them in these assaults. Were
we as numerous as the Chinese, it is clear that they
would not dare to be wanting in respect to us ; but we
are merely a few doves in the claws of thousands of
hawks, which lay mines charged with legal witcheries
in order to entrap us."

The 24th of August 1874 General Vallejo writes
Governor Alvarado : " From the death of Arrillaga
in 1814 to the year 1846 there is much material for
history. I have in relation to those times much
authentic and original matter, documents which no
one can refute. To the eminent writer Hubert H.
Bancroft I have given a ton of valuable manuscripts,
which have been placed in chronological order, under
their proper headings, in order to facilitate the labors
in which a dozen literary men of great knov/ledge are
actually occupied. That part of the history which
cannot be corroborated by documentary evidence I
myself can vouch for by referring to my memory ; and
that without fear of straying from the truth or falling
into anachronisms. Besides, my having been identi-
fied with upper California since my earliest youth is
another assistance, as in no less degree is the record
of my public life. What a vast amount of material !
No one has spoken, nor can any one know certain
facts as thou and I. All the Americans who have
dared to write on this subject have lied, either mali-
ciously or through ignorance." This letter was ac-
companied by certain questions concerning points
which the writer had forgotten.

410 ALVARADO AND CASTRO.

Governor Alvarado replied to the queries, corrobo-
rating the general's views. At length promises were
extracted from the governor that he would write a
history, but it should be for his family, and not for
Mr Bancroft. There must be something of importance
to him in the telling of his story. If there was money
in it, none could spend it better than he; if reputa-
tion, his family should have it.

So he went to work; for in truth, old and ill as he
was, he had more working power and pluck than any
of them. All through the autumn of 1874 he wrote
history as his health permitted, being all the while in
correspondence with Cerruti and Vallejo, who were
similarly engaged, sometimes at Sonoma, and some-
times at Monterey. " Up to date," he writes Yallejo
the 4th of December, '' I have arranged two hundred
and forty-one pages, in twenty-one chapters, forming
only three of the five parts into which I have divided
this historical compendium."

Indeed, for a long time past Alvarado had been
taking historical notes, with a view to writing a his-
tory of California. These notes, however, required
arranging and verifying, and in his feeble health it
was with great difficulty he could be induced to un-
dertake the work. In writing his history he displayed
no little enthusiasm, and seemed specially desirous of
producing as valuable a record as that of any one.

^'General Cerruti asked of me a narration of the
events of my own administration," again he says,
"and also of Sola's and Arguello's. These matters
are of great importance, and taken from my work
would leave little of value remaining. However, I still
go on with my labors, and we shall see what may be
done for the petitioners. In my said notes I am form-
ing a chain which begins at Cape San Lucas and
extends to latitude forty-two north, all of which was
denominated Peninsula, Territorio, Provincia, or De-
partamento, de las Californias, under the different
governments and constitutions, as well as Nueva y

ALVARADO'S HISTORY. 411

Vieja California and Alta y Baja California. I begin
with Cortes, who made the first settlement in Baja
Cahfornia, where my father w^as born. Afterward I
come to the Jesuits, and these expelled, to the Domin-
icans; and on the settlement of Alta California in
1769 I take hold of the Fernandinos, accepting as
true what was written by Father Francisco Palou con-
cerning events up to 1784 in his w^ork entitled A^o^icia^
de las Misiones. Thence I follow my chain till 1848,
when Mexico, through cowardice, fear, or fraud, sold
our native land to the United States. In order to ofo
on with this work, I must verify certain dates and
references. Finally, as regards the frontier of Sonoma,
that remains at your disposition, as I have indicated
in my notes, for I am not well acquainted with the
events which occurred there after 1834, when Figueroa
sent you to direct the colonization of that section
of country. There you had for near neighbors the
Russians, and the Hudson's Bay Company, and were
a sentinel placed to watch that they did not cross the
line."

Every effort was now made to beat down Governor
Alvarado's scruples and induce him to dictate a com-
plete history of the country for my use. Considering
his age, the state of his health, and the condition of
his eyes, which troubled him much of the time, he was
making no small progress. In this way he worked
until his manuscript reached three hundred and sixty-
four pages, but all the time swearing that Bancroft
should have nothing from him.

General Vallejo then employed every argument in
his power to induce Alvarado to take his place in this
history. " Come forward and refute your slanderers,"
he said, "not hang back and waste your breath in
harmless growls at them." And again, "If things are
wrong, not only go to work and endeavor to make
them right, but do it in the best and most effectual
way." The governor was several times brought to the
library, where Oak, Savage, and myself might sup-

412 ALVAHADO AND CASTRO.

plement Vallejo's and Cerruti's efforts. Finally the
general so far prevailed as to extract the promise
desired. Alvarado also lent Vallejo his manuscript,
and the latter sent it, unknown to Alvarado, for in-
spection to the library, where it remained for some
time.

Cerruti did not fancy the task of writing a second
large history of California. '' I wish you would get
some person in your confidence," he writes me from
Sonoma the 27th of November 1874, "to take down
the dictation of Governor Alvarado, because I cannot
do it. My private affairs will not allow me to spend
one or two years at San Pablo, a dull place, as bad as
Sonoma." Nevertheless, Alvarado insisting upon his
attendance, Cerruti was finally induced to undertake
the work on my permitting him to rent a room, bring
Alvarado to the city, and take his dictation in San
Francisco, I paying hotel bills and all other expenses,
besides keeping the governor's historical head-quar-
ters plentifully supplied with liquors and cigars.

But this was not all. I had told Alvarado plainly
that I would not pay him for his information; indeed,
he never asked me to do so. He would accept noth-
ing in direct payment, but he was determined to make
the most of it indirectly. Twenty thousand dollars he
would have regarded as a small sum for his literary
service to me, measured by money; hence all I could
do for him must be insignificant as compared with my
obligation.

Again on the 11th of December 1874 Cerruti
writes from Sonoma: ''With reference to Governor
Alvarado I beg to observe that I did not think it
worth while to cajole him. In my letter of October
20th I expressed myself to the effect that I did not
think it worth while to spend five or six thousand
dollars to get his dictation; because, with the excep-
tion of the notes referring to Lower California, written
by his father, and a few incidents which transpired at
Monterey while General Vallejo was absent from that

THE BEGINNING OF REQUESTS. 4ia

place, the whole of California's history will be fully
embodied in the Recuerdos Historicos of General
Vallejo, and I did not see why you should wish for
Governor Alvarado's dictation. Such were my views
on the 24th of October; but owing to a letter re-
ceived afterward, and the wish often expressed by
General Vallejo that I should maintain friendly re-
lations with Governor Alvarado, I corresponded with
him till the receipt of the letter whicli I forwarded
to you last Wednesday. Since then I have abstained
from writing, for I did not know what to write. You
will not miss Alvarado's notes on Lower California,
because General Vallejo has already written to Lower
California to Mr Gilbert, and I have no doubt that
he will get many documents from him."

The fact was, as I have said, Cerruti did not covet
the task of writing to Alvarado's dictation, and Gen-
eral Vallejo could be easily reconciled to the omission
of a record which might tend in his opinion to lessen
the importance of his own. In regard to Alvarado's
history Mr Oak thought differently, as the following
reference in Cerruti's letter will show:

*'I do not look at the matter of Governor Alvarado
as you do," he writes Cerruti the 24th of October.
**I think we ought to have his dictation at some time,
even if it is a repetition of what General Vallejo
writes. But perhaps it is as well that you have de-
clined the invitation to San Pablo for the present, for
General Vallejo's dictation is certainly more important
than all else. Besides, Mr Bancroft will be here
during the coming week, and can then himself decide
the matter."

At this juncture came a request from Alvarado.
He had a boy for whom he wished to find employment
in the store. Anxious to obtain his history, I was ready
to do anything w^hich he might reasonably or even
unreasonably ask. Alvarado wrote Vallejo requesting
his influence with me on behalf of his son. As soon
as their wishes were made known to me by Cerruti

414 ALVARADO AND CASTRO.

I sent for the young man, and he was assigned a place
in the publishing house.

The boy was nineteen years of age, and had about
as much of an idea of business, and of applying him-
self to it, as a gray squirrel. The manager endeavored
to explain to him somewhat the nature of the life now
before him. Success would depend entirely upon him-
self The house could not make a man of him ; all it
could do was to give him an opportunity of making a
man of himself At first, of course, knowing nothing
of business, his services would be worth but little to
the business. As at school, a year or two would be
occupied in learning the rudiments, and much time
would be occupied in teaching. For such business
tuition no charge was made; in fact the firm would
pay him a small salary from the beginning. The lad
was bright and intelligent, and seemed to comprehend
the situation, expressing himself as satisfied with what
I had done for him.

A few days afterward I learned that the boy was
back at San Pablo, and that a general howl had been
raised among his countrymen on account of alleged
hard treatment of the boy by the house ; in fact his
position had been worse than that of a Chinaman. He
was made to work, to wait on people like a servant,
to pack boxes, fold papers, and carry bundles. As a
matter of course the old governor was very angry.

I was greatly chagrined, for I feared all was now
lost with Alvarado. Instituting inquiries into the
boy's case, I learned that in view of the governor's
attitude toward the library, and the little need for
the boy's services, he had been assigned a very easy
place, and treated with every courtesy. Unluckily
some ragamufifin from the printing-office, meeting him
on the stairs soon after he began work, called out to
him:

" I say, gallinipper, how much d'ye git ?"

'' Twenty dollars a month."

" You don't say; a Chinaman gits more'n that."

MANUEL CASTRO. 415

That was enough. The boy immediately wrote his
father that the manager of the Bancroft estabhshment
had assigned him a position beneath that of a Mon-
golian. It was the old story of race persecution. All
the people of the United States had conspired to crush
the native Californians, and this was but another in-
stance of it. Young Alvarado was immediately ordered
home; he should not remain another moment where
he was so treated.

It required the utmost efforts of Vallejo and Cer-
ruti to smooth the ruffled pride of the governor. A
happier illustration of the irrational puerility of these
isolated ancients could not be invented.

Among the copyists upon the Vallejo documents,
before that collection was given to the library, was
one Soberanes, a relative of Vallejo. At the request
of the general his services were retained after the
donation of the documents, though all of us had
cause to regret such further engagement, as he was
constantly getting himself and others into hot water.

Of all the early Californians we had to encounter,
Manuel Castro was among the worst to deal with in
regard to his material. He had both documents and
information which he wished to sell for money. He
was an important personage, but instead of manfully
asserting his position, he professed patriotism, love of
literature, and everything that any one else professed.
Finding that he could not extort money from me, and
being really desirous of appearing properly in history,
he promised me faithfully and repeatedly all that he
had.

But diplomacy was so natural to him that I doubt
if it were possible for him to act in a simple, straight-
forward manner. He began by borrowing money
with which to go to Monterey and bring me his docu-
ments. He neither redeemed his promise nor returned
the money. Some time afterward he went for them.

416 ALVARADO AND CASTRO.

but said that he could not deUver them, for they were
required in the dictation which he now professed to
be desirous of making.

"Manuel Castro came last night to Monterey,"
Cerruti writes the 16th of February 1875, "got the
box of documents which his family has been collect-
ing during the last six months, and early this morning
returned to San Francisco. If you want his docu-
ments don't lose sight of him; Savage knows where
he lives. Of course he is 'on the spec.'! Should you
have to pay any money for Castro's documents, you
will have to thank Soberanes, Eldridge, and the rest
of the boys, who always exerted themselves to under-
mine the plans of General Vallejo and myself"

Manuel Castro now sent us word : " Let Soberanes
arrange my papers and write for me, and you shall
have both my recollections and my documents."

Accordingly Soberanes for some six weeks waited
on him, drawing his pay from me. The agreement had
been that he should deliver what was written every
week as he drew the money for it ; but on one pretext
or another he succeeded in putting us off until we were
satisfied that this was but another trick, and so dis-
continued the arrangement. Not a page of manuscript,
not a single document was secured by the expenditure.

In some way this Soberanes became mixed up in Al-
varado's affairs. I believe he was related to the gov-
ernor as well as to the general; and he seemed to
make it his business just now to bleed me to the fullest
possible extent for the benefit of his countrymen and
himself Vallejo quickly cast him off when he saw
how things were going; Manuel Castro, the general
openly reprobated; and even of Alvarado's venality
he felt ashamed.

"While in New York I received a letter from General
Vallejo, dated the 26th of September 1874, in which
he says : " Cerruti writes me from San Francisco that
he is very much annoyed and chagrined that after he
and myself had so labored to induce Governor Alva-

MISCHIEF ABROAD. 417

rado to take an interest in your work, Soberanes,
Manuel Castro, and other insignificant persons, went
to San Pablo and sadly annoyed him. Undoubtedly
Cerruti is right; for it is very well known that
demasiado fuego quema la olla. Already on other
occasions those same intriguers have thwarted his
plans; and he, Cerruti, is fearful that they may also
thrust themselves into the affairs of Central America,
and cause him to lose his prestige in those countries.
Day after to-morrow, when Cerruti returns, I will
resume my labors on the history of California."

In May 1875 Cerruti writes me from Sonoma:
*' Governor Alvarado is acting very strangely. I at-
tribute his conduct to Soberanes, who has made the old
gentleman believe that there is a mountain of gold to
be made by squeezing your purse. I w^ould suggest
that you send orders which will compel Soberanes
to deliver to the library the pages of history for
which he received several w^eekly payments for writing
under Castro's dictation. Thus far Soberanes has not
delivered into the hands of your agent a single line ;
and, not satisfied with what he has already obtained,
he is trying to cause others to deviate from the path
of decency, common-sense, and gratitude. I would
also suggest that Alvarado be 'sent to grass' for the
present. If at a future day you should need him or
his dictation, either General Vallejo or myself will
get it for you without cost. The conduct of Alva-
rado and Soberanes has greatly displeased General
Vallejo, who as you know thinks it the duty of every
native Californian to assist you in your noble and
self-imposed task."

Matters seemed to grow worse instead of better
during this same May, when some of these mischief-
makers told Alvarado that his history was at the
library. Then came another convulsion. Conspiracy
was abroad ; the foul fiend seemed to have entered the
history-gatherers in order to hurl destruction upon
the poor potentate of San Pablo. Although not a

Lit. Ind. 27

418 ALVARADO AND CASTRO.

word had been taken hx>m his manuscript while it
was in the hbrary, nor any use of it made in any
way, Judas was a pure angel beside me. Alvarado
had telegraphed General Vallejo, and sent messengers
hither and thither. Something must be done, or
Diablo and Tamalpais would turn somersets into
the bay, and the peninsula of San Francisco would
be set adrift upon the ocean. The absurdity of all
this is still more apparent when I state that the
manuscript notes were of no value to any one in their
present shape, except indeed as a basis of the pro-
posed narrative of events.

Yet another agony, following hard upon the heels
of its predecessors. I will let Cerruti begin the story.
I was at Oakville at the time, and under the heading
" Something serious and confidential," he writes me
from San Francisco the 7th of April: ''Yesterday
Governor Alvarado's daughter died in San Kafael.
The governor desired the body brought to Oakland.
Having no money wherewith to pay expenses, he
sent Soberanes to the Bancroft library, with a re-
quest that he should see you and if possible induce
you to contribute something toward the funeral ex-
penses, three hundred dollars. You were absent. I
did not think it proper to refer him to your manager,
fearing he would feel annoyed; so making a virtue of
necessity I gave Soberanes twenty dollars. I acted
as I have just related owing to the fact that Gov-
ernor Alvarado's narrative is not even commenced.
It is true we have on hand four hundred pages of his
notes, but said notes only come down to the year
1830, and he has signified his willingness to dictate
what he knows to the year 1848. Besides, the small
incidents which he remembers are not included in his
notes. In one word, I consider Governor Alvarado
as one of the persons you need the most in the writing
of the history of California, and hence my reason for
giving him the twenty dollars. Of course I don't
claim the amount back from you. I know full well

AGONY UPON AGONY. 419

I had no authority to invest in funerals." The reader
will observe that Cerruti's opinions were not always
the same.

Closely following this letter came Soberanes to
Oakville, begging of me one hundred dollars for
Alvarado. Now I was not under the slightest obli-
gations to Alvarado; on the contrary it was he who
should be paying me money if any was to pass be-
tween us. He had done nothing for me, and judging
from the past there was little encouragement that he
ever would do anything. Nevertheless, since he was
a poor old man in distress, I would cheerfully give
him the money he asked, for charity's sake. At the
same time I thought it nothing less than my due to
have in a somewhat more tangible form the governor's
oft-repeated promise to dictate a history of California
for me. So I said to Soberanes: "Alvarado is going
to dictate for me and give me all his material. Would
he be willing to put that in writing?" "Most cer-
tainly," replied Soberanes. "Go, then, and see it done,
and Mr Oak will give you the money."

Now let us hear what is said about it in a letter to
me under date of the 19th of May from the library:
"The Alvarado matter is in bad shape, like everything
in which Soberanes has anything to do. Governor
Alvarado simply, as he says, sends Soberanes to ask
for one hundred dollars, on the ground that he intends
the history he is writing for your collection, and is
in hard circumstances. He did not know that any of
his manuscript was in our hands, and is offended that
General Vallejo and Cerruti delivered it to us contrary
to their agreement. Soberanes tells you that Gov-
ernor Alvarado will give you the four hundred pages
in our possession : [there are only two hundred and
sixty-four pages;] four hundred pages more that he
has written : [there are only one hundred pages more ;]
and that he will sign an agreement to completo the
history down to 1848. Soberanes returns to Gov-
ernor Alvarado, tells him that you consent, says

420 ALVARADO AND CASTRO.

nothing of any conditions, tells him all he has to do
is to come up and take his money, and brings him for
that purpose. Governor Alvarado comes to-day with
Soberanes; is first very much oifended to find that
we have any part of his manuscripts, and considers it
almost an insult to be asked to sign any agreement or
to give us any part of his manuscripts, which he says
are yet only in a very incomplete condition. He says
he will do nothing further in the matter. Soberanes
declares that nothing was said between him and you
about any agreement whatever, but that you simply
consented to give the money. We did our best to
make the matter right with Governor Alvarado, but,
of course, in vain. He went away, not in an angry
mood, but evidently thinking himself ill-used. Sober-
anes will make the matter worse by talking to him,
and making him and others believe that you wish to
take advantage of Alvarado's poverty to get ten thou-
sand dollars' worth of history for a hundred dollars."

Although what Soberanes had reported was delib-
erate falsehood — it was about the hundredth time he
had lied to and of me — and although Alvarado had
acted like a demented old woman, and I had really no
further hope of getting anything out of him, I
ordered the hundred dollars paid, for I fully intended
from the first that he should have the money, and I
hoped that would be the end of the affair.

But alas! not so. For no sooner is the money
paid than up comes a letter from Lachryma Montis,
written by Cerruti the 23d of May, in which he says:
'^I regret very much that you should have given an
order to pay one hundred dollars to Governor Alva-
rado. I am willing that the ex-governor should receive
assistance at the present time, but not under the cir-
cumstances in which a gang of unscrupulous persons
have control of his actions and are using him for the
purpose of putting a few coppers into their empty
pockets. I fear that your generosity toward Governor
Alvarado will interfere with the plans of General

ti

THE GREAT PURPOSE ACCOMPLISHED. 421

Vallejo, who a few days ago went to San Francisco
for the purpose of obtaining the documents in the
possession of Castro. That person made the general
a half promise to give to him his papers. But if he
happens to hear, as he surely will, that you have given
Governor Alvarado a hundred dollars, in all certainty
he will hold back his documents until he obtains a
sum of money for them. There are many people yet
who are in the possession of valuable documents.
These persons in due time will be induced by General
Vallejo to come to the front and help you without
remuneration; but should they hear that you pay
money for documents they will hold back until they
get cash. No later than two days ago, when General
Vallejo was in the city, some Californians approached
him, and tried to convince him that he had better give
his manuscript to some publisher who would agree
to print the work immediately ; furthermore they said
that it would be better to have his history come out
as a whole and not in driblets as quotations. The
general, who has a good share of sound sense, told
those persons that he would be highly pleased to be
quoted in your great work, as your history would
be in future ages the great authority on Californian
matters, while the history written by him would not
carry an equal weight of conviction."

I should regard these details too trifling to give
them a place here, except as a specimen of every-day
occurrences during my efforts to obtain from the
Hispano-Californians what they knew of themselves.
By allowing Alvarado's affairs to rest awhile, the
testy old governor was happily brought to see the true
way, and to walk therein. He came up nobly in the
end and gave a full history of California, written
by Cerruti in Spanish, in five large volumes, which
is second only in importance as original material to
Vallejo's history. Part of the transcribing was per-
formed by Cerruti at San Pablo, but as I before
remarked Alvarado dictated the most of his history

422 ALVARADO AND CASTRO.

in San Francisco. It was written anew from the
beginning. The governor's manuscript notes formed
the basis of the complete history, the notes being de-
stroyed as fast as the history was written, lest they
should some time fall into wrong hands. This was the
Italian's precaution. Taking it altogether, Alvarado's
history cost me much time, patience, and money; but
I never regretted the expenditure.

Frequently about this time I invited Alvarado,
Vallejo, and Cerruti to dine with me at the Maison
Doree, and general good feeling prevailed. Among
other things with which the Hispano-Californians were
pleased was an article entitled The Manifest Destiny
of California, which I contributed to the Sacramento
Reco^^d- Union, and which was translated and published
in a Spanish journal. " We have fallen into good hands,"
at last said Governor Alvarado ; and Castro promised
unqualifiedly everything he had. But this was while
their hearts were warm with my champagne ; the next
day, perhaps, they felt differently. In writing the
article I had not the remotest idea of pleasing any
one, and had never even thought of the Californians ;
but it happened that they were kind enough to like
it, and this was fortunate, for it greatly assisted me in
obtaining material.

It seemed impossible all at once to sever my con-
nection with Soberanes, the fellow had so woven
himself into the relations of the library with native
Californians, but in due time I managed to get rid of
him. After General Vallejo had presented his docu-
ments to the library, Soberanes asserted that there
were many papers in other hands which he could get
to copy. He was encouraged to do so, though Cer-
ruti was jealous of him from the first. Soberanes
did, indeed, obtain many documents, some of which
he copied, and others were given outright to the
library.

Before he spent the six weeks with Manuel Castro
he had obtained papers from him to copy. Castro at

CASTRO'S LOFTY TUMBLING. 423

first required Oak to give him a receipt for these
papers, but seeing that our enthusiasm in his affairs
began to decHne, he followed the example of General
Vallejo, and gave them outright to the library. This
first instalment of Castro's papers was bound in
two volumes. The copies of some of them, which
Soberanes had made, Castro borrowed to use in court.

Soberanes then obtained more documents from
Castro, and some from other sources, portions of which
were loaned for copying and part given outright. It
seemed the object of both Castro and Soberanes to
make the information and material of the former cost
me as much as possible. It was when Soberanes
could get no more papers from Castro that he induced
him to dictate. While this dictation was in progress,
every few days Soberanes would bring to the library
portions of what he had written, but would carry it
away with him again, on the pretext that it was re-
quired for reference. Some time after I had closed
my relations with Soberanes, Castro sent to me one
Pena, who had done copying for me, saying that he
was now ready to continue his dictation. I told Pena
that I had had enough of such dictating; that if he
chose to run the risk he miofht write down whatever
Castro gave him and bring it to the library every
Saturday and receive in money its value, whatever
that might be.

Meanwhile Cerruti, though heartily hating both
Soberanes and Castro, did not lose sight of them, for
Manuel Castro and his documents were most important
to history. Always on the alert, Cerruti ascertained
one day that a box of papers was held by Castro's
landlord for room rent.

In September 1876 Castro, who was vice-president
of the Junta Patriotica, was appointed one of a com-
mittee to collect money for the purpose of defraying
the expenses of the fiesta on the glorious Sixteenth.
By some ill-luck the money so collected dropped out
of Castro's possession before it reached the object for

424 ALVARADO AND CASTRO.

which it had been given. Indeed, Castro's pocket, as
a depository for current coin, was not as safe as the
bank of England.

This left Castro in a bad position. Had the money
been donated to defray the expenses of a funeral, and
failed in its object, the cry would not have been so
great; but for a festival, it was indeed calamitous.
As a matter of course Cerruti soon knew all about it,
knew that Castro had become bankrupt while carry-
ing the money he had collected for celebration pur-
poses, and that he must immediately restore it or
be forever disgraced among his countrymen.

Rushing round to the library, Cerruti saw Oak,
and expressed the belief that Castro would pledge his
documents for a little ready money, not alone those in
the hands of his landlord, which could be obtained by
paying the rent arrears, but also others which were
not in durance.

No matter how simple the transaction, Cerruti
could do little without bringing into requisition his
diplomatic powers, which were ever overflowing.
Thinking that possibly Castro might be prejudiced
against the library, and might object to his papers
being where they would do so much good, Cerruti
told Castro that a friend of his on Market street
would lend him the money he required, on the docu-
ments. This friend was not Bancroft; indeed, the
person was one opposed to the Bancrofts, that being
the chief reason of his willingness to lend the money,
so that the documents might not fall to the library.

The lie did good service. Castro's papers were de-
livered to Cerruti, who straightway took them to the
library and obtained the money. Under the circum-
stances Mr Oak did not feel at liberty to examine the
documents or to take notes from them, though he
might easily have done so had he been inclined. He
was satisfied for the present, and willing to await
further developments.

Nor had he long to wait. Castro soon required an

CASTRO CAPTURED. 425

additional sum, and this Oak would advance only on
condition that if the papers were redeemed he should
have the right to open the box and take such notes as
history required, without, however, retaining the orig-
inal papers or in any way injuring them. This per-
mission was granted. Whether Cerrati now told
Castro in whose hands the papers were deposited is
not certain.

Mr Oak's way was now clear enough. First he
took out all the information I required for California
history. Then, long after the time within which the
papers were to have been redeemed, he consulted an
attorney, that he might act within legal bounds, and
addressing a letter to Castro, informed him that the
papers were in his possession, subject to a claim for
the money advanced, and that although by law his
right in them was forfeited, yet, not wishing to take
any unfair advantage, he would allow him until the
following Saturday to redeem them.

Castro was furious, and talked loudly of having been
swindled; but no one was frightened. The fact is, we
had long since determined to leave no honorable means
untried to obtain those papers, and we were not now
disposed to stand upon ceremony with Castro, or to
go far out of our way to pacify him. The documents
and information in his possession, by every right of
honor and decency belonged to the library. Not once
but twenty times he had promised them; not once but
several times I had given him money, and paid out
still more to others on his account. All he was hold-
ing back for was more money. I think he always
fully intended I should have his material ; but if there
was money in it, he wanted it. Besides all this, Castro
had given much trouble in exciting other Californians
against me, telling them to hold back, and the money
would come in due time. As often as he had money
to buy wine he would entice Alvarado from his work ;
but at such times Cerruti was after him like a Scotch
terrier, and soon talked him into a state of penitence.

426 ALVARADO AND Ci^STRO.

Furthermore, many of these documents Castro had
obtained from different persons with the understand-
ing that they were to be given to the Hbrary.

In view of all this, when the Castro papers were
once fairly mine I cared little as to their former
owner s measure of love for me. I had them col-
lated and bound in five volumes, making seven in all
from this source.

One thing more remained, for it was apparently
impossible for Manuel Castro to do good except upon
compulsion. The dictation for which I had paid, and
which was in truth my property wherever I could
find it, was still closely held by him. One day it
came to the knowledge of Mr Savage that Castro had
gone into the country, leaving all his papers in the
hands of Felipe Fierro, editor of La- Voz del Nuevo
Mundo, Now Fierro was a stanch friend of the
library; and when Savage explained to him the
nature of our relations with Castro, and the trouble
we had had with him, and asked the editor the loan
of what was already our own, he could not refuse.
The dictation was copied, with many original docu-
ments, and returned to Fierro, that he might not
suffer through his kindness. Thus a droit ou a tort,
the gods being with us, the whole of this Philistine's
material fell into my hands. Several years later he
endeavored to obtain money from me on the remnants,
and was surprised to learn that his papeles had no
longer a market value.

Jose Ramon Pico furnished quite a little collection
of papers, some of which belonged originally to him ;
others he had collected from various sources. There
was no little difficulty in our dealings with many of
these men, who seemed most of the time to be in a
strait between their desire to figure in history and
a fear lest they should part too easily with what by
some possibility might bring them money.

With Alvarado, Cerruti labored in fear and trem-
bling. Writing me the 9th of February 1876, in

»

THE ESTUDILLO FAMILY. 427

answer to a request to attend to certain work, he
said : " Considering that I have promised to com-
plete the third volume of Alvarado's history within
eight days, I cannot possibly spare one moment for
other work, because Alvarado, who at present is in a
working mood, might change his mind at some future
time and leave his history incomplete."

Visiting San Leandro, he obtained the archives of
the Estudillo family, accompanied by a very cordial
letter from Mr J. M. Estudillo, who, in presenting
them, promised to search for more.

I cannot mention a hundredth part of the dictations
taken and the excursions made by Cerruti for docu-
ments. He was very active, as I have said, and very
successful. He loved to dart off in one direction and
thence telegraph me, then quickly transfer himself to
another spot and telegraph from there; in fact both
generals had a great fancy for telegraphing. Often
Cerruti wrote me a letter and then telegraphed me
that he had done so — that and nothing more.

CHAPTER XVIII.

CLOSE OF THE CERRUTI-VALLEJO CAMPAIGN.

To gather in this great harvest of truth was no light or speedy work.
His notes ah-eady made a formidable range of volumes, but the crowning
task would be to condense these voluminous still-accumulating results, and
bring them like the earlier vintage of Hippocratic books to fit a little shelf.

George Eliot.

For about two and a half years generals Cerruti
and Vallejo applied themselves to my work with a
devotion scarcely inferior to my own : the latter longer,
the former meanwhile with some assistance carrying
forward to completion the history by Alvarado.
Under the benign influence of the elder general, the
quick impatient temper of the Italian was so subdued
that he was at length kept almost continuously at
confining, plodding work, which secretly he abhorred.
He preferred revolutionizing Costa Rica to writing a
hundred-page dictation. Yet I am sure for my work
he entertained the highest respect, and for me true
personal regard.

But after all it was his affection for General Vallejo
which cemented him so long to this work. His es-
teem for the sage of Sonoma was unbounded; his
devotion was more than Boswellian; it approached
the saintly order. He would follow him to the ends
of the earth, cheerfully undertaking anything for
him; and almost before Yallejo's wish was expressed
Cerruti had it accomplished. Yet withal the Italian
never sank into the position of servant. He was as
quick as ever to resent a fancied slight, and Vallejo
himself, in order to maintain his influence over him,
must needs humor many vagaries.

(428)

WRITING HISTORY. 429

It was not a little strange to see these two men,
so widely separated, both in their past actions and in
their present ambitions, fired by the same enthusiasm,
and that by reason of a conception which was not
theirs, and from which neither of them could hope
for any great or tangible personal benefit; and that it
should last so long was most remarkable of all. In
reality they continued until their work was finished ;
and although neither of them had been accustomed
to continuous application in any direction, they labored
as long and as diligently each day as natives of more
northern climes are wont to apply themselves. During
the years 1874-6 the time of the two generals was
divided between Sonoma, San Francisco, and Monte-
rey, and in making divers excursions from these places.

No sooner was it known that General Vallejo was
writing history for me than he was besieged by an
army of applicants suddenly grown history- hungry.
In a letter dated Sonoma, 8th of December 1874,
Cerruti says: "General Vallejo and I will go to the
city next week. Historical men, newspaper scribblers,
and all sorts of curious persons are daily addressing
letters to the general asking for information. He is
really bothered to death. I enclose one of the peti-
tions so you may judge of the style of persecution he
is subject to. On hand one hundred pages of manu-
script which I consider very interesting. Mr Thomp-
son, of the Democrat J is in possession of a large amount
of useful information with reference to the Russian
settlements of Bodega and Ross. He has been col-
lecting material for ten years, during which time he
has interviewed nearly sixty ancient settlers." Mr
Thompson very kindly placed at my disposal his entire
material. His sketches he had taken in short-hand,^
and at my request he had the more important written
out and sent to me.

From Monterey the 6th of January 1875 General
Vallejo wrote as follows: ''General Cerruti and I go

430 CLOSE OF THE CERRUTI-VALLEJO CAMPAIGN.

on writing and collecting documents for the history,
and since our arrival have written over one hundred
pages. We have many venerable documents, which I
have not yet looked over, for this dictating and nar-
rating reminiscences stupefies the memory. Moreover,
I have to give attention to visitors, who sometimes
occupy my time, but who are necessary when the
history of their days and mine is written, and whom
I need in order to keep my promise of aiding you. I
think you would do well to come down here; for
although there are no such living accommodations as
in San Francisco, lodgings are not wanting, and thus
you would change your routine of study life. Here
exist two barrels of old papers belonging to Manuel
Castro, which I have not been able to obtain, because
it is intended to profit by them. However, if you
show yourself indifferent, it is probable that you
may obtain them at small expense — that is, provided
Hittell, or others who take an interest in old papers,
do not cross you. Make use of a very Yankee policy,
and within two months you will be the possessor of
the richest collection in existence with reference to
upper California. In the archives of Salinas City,
of which my nephew has charge, many documents
exist. He has promised to do all in his power to aid
your undertaking."

And again the 16th of January he writes: "I have
spent the day in inspecting a lot of very important
documents. These I can obtain for the purpose of
copying them; but it would be well that you should
take a turn this way, in order to see them and resolve
the matter. General Cerruti says that they are very
important, but does not desire to assume the responsi-
bility of copying them. In every way it seems to me
in accordance with your interests that you examine
the matter in person."

The Hartnell papers were regarded as of great im-
portance, and General Yallejo could not rest until they
were secured for the library. Hartnell was an Eng-

THE HARTNELL PAPERS. 431

lisliman, who had come to Cahfornia at .an early date,
had married an hija del pais, Teresa de la Guerra, by
whom he had been made twenty-five times a father.
Failing as a merchant at Monterey, in company with
the reverend Patrick Short he opened a boys' acad-
emy at El Alisal, his residence near that place. He
was appointed visitador general de misiones by Gov-
ernor Alvarado, and after the arrival of the Americans
was for a time state interpreter. He was regarded by
many as the most intelligent foreigner who up to that
time had arrived on this shore. Applying to the
widow of Mr Hartnell, General Yallejo received the
following very welcome reply, under date of the 6th
of February: ^^ Although most of the papers left by
Don Guillermo have been lost, it may be that among
the few which I still preserve some may be of use to
thee. But as to this thou canst know better than I ;
perhaps it were well that thou comest to see them.
The papers which I have are at thy disposal." The
collection of documents thus so modestly valued and
so cheerfully given proved to be of great value, and
were duly bound and accredited to the former owner.
Hearing of a deposit of important papers some
sixty miles from Monterey, the 6th of March Gen-
eral Vallejo sent Cerruti to secure them. Nine days
later Vallejo writes as follows: '^To-day I send you
a trunk full of documents of very great historic value.
Do me the favor to charge your assistants not to open
it before my return to San Francisco, for it is neces-
sary for me to give certain explanations before making
you a present of its contents. However, from this
moment count on the documents as belonging to your-
self; and if I die upon the journey, make such dispo-
sition of the trunk and the papers which it contains
as may seem good to you. The young man Biven,
whom in days past I recommended to you, is, I hear,
given to drinking ; but I also know that he has many
ancient documents, a trunkful, which belonged to his
deceased grandfather, Ainza. It seems to me that

432 CLOSE OF THE CERRUTI-VALLEJO CAMPAIGN.

some diplomacy is necessary in order to secure them,
though he promised at San Francisco to give me
them."

Wherever he might be, Cerruti was unremitting in
his labors. The 29th of July he writes from Monterey :
'^ I enclose an article written in the Spanish language,
which I believe ought to be translated into English.
I am certain it would do a great deal of good. To-day
General Vallejo has received a lot of documents from
Soledad."

And again the 3d of August: ^^ Yesterday we heard
of the existence of a large collection of historical
documents." Being engaged in another direction, it
was resolved to send a third person in quest of these
papers immediately; and a few days later I received
intelligence : "The envoy of General Vallejo left to-day
for San Luis Obispo."

While the warmest friendship existed between the
two generals during the whole of their intercourse,
they were not without their little differences. Often
General Vallejo used to say to me: "Cerruti wishes
to hurry me, and I will not be hurried. Often he
solemnly assures me that Mr Bancroft will not be
satisfied unless a certain number of pages are written
every week; and I ask him who is writing this history,
myself or Mr Bancroft?" On the other hand, Cerruti
in his more petulant moods frequently dropped words
of dissatisfaction. " You cannot conceive," he writes
me the 18th of August from Monterey, "how pleased
I shall be when the work is complete. It has caused
me many unhappy moments and many sacrifices of
pride." On a former occasion he had complained:
"The parish priest of Monterey has brought to our
office the books of his parish. I could make a good
many extracts from them, but I will not undertake
the task because I am in a very great hurry to leave
Monterey. I am heartily sick of the whole work,
and I wish it was already finished. This town is like

FROM MISSION SAN JOSE. 433

a convent of friars, and the sooner I leave it the
better. If I remain in it a month longer I will be-
come an old man. I see only old people, converse as
to days gone by. At my meals I eat history ; my bed
is made of old documents, and I dream of the past.
Yet I would cheerfully for your sake stand the brunt
of hard times were it not that your agents have
wounded me in my pride, the only vulnerable point in
my whole nature." Thus cunning spends itself on
folly! Thus follows that tcediiim vitce which, like a
telescope reversed, makes this world and its affairs
look insignificant enough!

The Italian was very ambitious to show results, and
frequently complained that Vallejo insisted too much
on tearing up each day a portion of the manuscript
which had been written the day before. This present
effort at Monterey lasted one month and two days,
during which time three hundred pages were com-
pleted. On the other hand, three months would
sometimes slip by with scarcely one hundred pages
written.

In bringing from Santa Cruz two large carpet-bags
filled with documents collected in that vicinity, by
some means they were lost in landing at San Fran-
cisco. Vallejo was chagrined; Cerruti raved. The
steamship company was informed that unless the
papers were recovered the wheels of Californian
affairs would cease to revolve. The police were
notified; searchers were sent out in every direction;
the offer of a liberal reward was inserted in the
daily papers. Finally, after two days of agony, the
lost documents were found and safely lodged in the
library,

Notwithstanding he was at the time suffering from
serious illness, Jose de Jesus Vallejo, brother of Gen-
eral Vallejo, gave me a very valuable dictation of one
hundred and seventy-seven pages, taken at his resi-
dence at Mission San Jose, beginning the 13th of
April and finishing on the 22d of June 1875. The

Lit. Ind. 28

434 CLOSE OF THE CERRUTI-VALLEJO CAMPAIGN.

author of this contribution was born at San Josd in
1798, and in his later years was administrator of the
mission of that name.

*'The priest of this mission," writes Cerruti the
11th of April 1875, "the very reverend Father
Cassidy, has kindly loaned me the mission books.
They are seven in number. From six of them I will
make extracts. Number seven is very interesting,
and according to my opinion ought to be copied in
full."

The next day Mr Oak wrote me from San Fran-
cisco— I was at Oakville at the time — "General Vallejo
came to town the last of this week, summoned by a
telegram stating that his brother was dying. He
and Cerruti immediately left for Mission San Jose.
Cerruti has been back once and reports great success
in getting documents. The chief difficulty seems to
be to keep the general from killing his brother with
historical questionings. He fears his brother may
die without telling him all he knows. Cerruti brings
a book from the Mission which can be kept for copy-
ing. It seems of considerable importance. It will
make some two weeks' work, and I have taken the
liberty to employ Pina, the best of the old hands, to
do the work."

Again, on the 18th of April from Mission San Jose
Cerruti writes: *' Besides the dictation, I have on
hand many documents and old books. I am told that
in the vicinity of the Mission are to be found many
old residents who have documents, but I abstain from
going after them because the travelling expenses are
very high, and not having seen the documents I can-
not judge whether they are worth the expense. Among
others, they say that at the Milpitas rancho lives a
native Californian, called Crisostomo Galindo, who is
one hundred and three years old, and is supposed to
be the possessor of documents. Shall I go to see
him?" A week later he says: "The dictation of Don
Josd de Jesus Vallejo is progressing a great deal

THE LARKIN DOCUMENTS. 435

faster than I had anticipated. I have been with him
seven days and have already on hand seventy pages of
nearly three hundred words each."

Thomas O. Larkin was United States consul at
Monterey when California fell into the hands of
the United States: he was then made naval asfent.
Born at Charlestown, Massachusetts, in 1802, he came
hither in 1832 as supercargo of a Boston trading
vessel, and was subsequently quite successful as gen-
eral merchant and exporter of lumber. He made the
models for the first double-geared wheat-mill at Mon-
terey at a time when only ship-carpenters could be
found there. Wishing to take a wife, and as a prot-
estant being outside the pale of catholic matrimony,
he went with the lady on board a vessel on the
Californian coast, and was married under the United
States flag by J. C. Jones, then United States consul
at the Hawaiian Islands.

In 1845 President Polk commissioned him to sound
the Californians as to chang^e of flao^ and durino^ the
year following he was active in his exertions to secure
California to the United States; and for his fidelity
and zeal in these and other matters he received the
thanks of the president.

Into the hands of such a man as Mr Larkin during
the course of these years naturally would fall many
important papers, and we should expect him to be
possessed of sufficient intelligence to appreciate their
value and to preserve them. Nor are we disappointed.
At his death Mr Larkin left a large and very valu-
able mass of documents, besides a complete record of
his official correspondence from 1844 to 1849. This
record comprised two very large folio volumes, after-
ward bound in one.

Charles H. Sawyer, attorney for certain of the
heirs of Thomas O. Larkin, and always a warm friend
of the library, first called my attention to the ex-
istence of these most important archives. He had

436 CLOSE OF THE CERRUTI-VALLEJO CAMPAIGN".

made copies of a few of them selected for that pur-
pose, and the blank-book in which such selections had
been transcribed Mr Sawyer kindly presented. Mr
Larkin's papers, he assured me, would be most diffi-
cult to obtain, even should the heirs be inclined to
part with them, since one was at the east and another
too ill to be seen.

Accompanied by Cerruti, I called on Mr Alfred
Larkin, one of the sons, whose office was then on
Merchant street. I was received by Mr Larkin in
the most cordial manner. The papers, he said, were
beyond his control. He would use his best endeavors
to have them placed in my hands. As the result of
this interview I secured the record books, than which
nothing could be more important in the history of
that epoch.

Some time passed before anything further was ac-
complished, but in the mean time I never lost sight
of the matter. These papers should be placed on my
shelves as a check on the Alvarado and Vallejo tes-
timony. At length I learned that Mr Sampson Tams,
a very intelligent and accomplished gentleman who
had married a daughter of Mr Larkin, had full pos-
session and control of all the Larkin archives. I lost
no time in presenting my request, and was seconded
in my efforts by several friends. The result was that
with rare and most commendable liberality Mr Tams
presented me with the entire collection, which now
stands upon the shelves of my library in the form of
nine large volumes.

While engaged in my behalf at Monterey, Gen-
eral Vallejo's enthusiasm often waxed so warm as
almost to carry him away. Shortly before the sus-
pension of the bank of California he had thought
seriously of going south on a literary mission. " I
have hopes of getting together many ancient docu-
ments from persons at Los Angeles who have promised
to aid me," he writes the 13th of July; and again,
the 27th of August: '' I assure you that two or three

VALLEJO'S ENTHUSIASM. 437

weeks since I resolved upon the journey to San Diego,
stopping at all the missions. This I had resolved to
do at my own proper cost, without your being obliged
to spend more money; for to me it would be a great
pleasure to give this additional proof of the interest
I take in your great work. Until yesterday such
was my intention; but this morning I find mj^self
obliged to abandon it, on account of the failure of the
bank of California, which renders if necessary for
me to return to San Francisco in order to arrancre
my affairs. I have endeavored to persuade Cerruti
to undertake the journey, I furnishing him with
letters of introduction to all my friends, but he has
refused to venture into deep water, until the conclu-
sion of the Historia de California which I am dictating.
I know that Cerruti always desires to avoid expense
without some corresponding benefit to yourself"

The original proposal was for General Vallejo to
bring his history down to the year 1846, the end
of Mexican domination in California. Writing from
Monterey the 27th of August he says: '' By the 3d of
September I shall have finished the fourth volume
of the Historia de California; that is to say, the whole
history down to 1846, the date which I proposed as
its termination, at the time when, yielding to your
entreaties, I undertook to write my recollections of
the country. But in these latter days I have managed
to interest General Frisbie and other important per-
sonages acquainted with events in California from
1846 to 1850, so that they agree to contribute their
contingent of hght; and I have resolved to bring my
history down to this later date, in case you should
deem it necessary. It is my intention to go to
Vallejo, where in the course of three or four weeks
I trust to be able to give the finishing stroke to my
work, which I trust will merit the approbation of
yourself and other distinguished writers."

''T have caused Captain Cayetano Juarez to come
to Lachryma Montis," says General Vallejo in a letter

438 CLOSE OF THE CERRUTI-VALLEJO CAMPAIGN".

from Sonoma dated the 4th of October, ''in order that
he may aid me to write all which appertains to the
evil doings of the 'Bears' in 1846-7. Captain Juarez,
who was a w^itness present at the time, and a truthful
and upright man, and myself are engaged in recalling
all those deeds just as they occurred. What I relate
is very distinct from what has been hitherto published
by writers who have desired to represent as heroes
the men who robbed me and my countrymen of our
property. American authors desire to excuse those
robbers with the pretext that in some cases the 'Bear'
captains gave receipts for the articles of which they
took forcible possession; but as those receipts were
worthless, the Californians have the right to say that
the ' Bears,' or a majority of them, were robbers."

War's alarum always threw the mercurial and
mettlesome Cerruti into a state of excitement, which
rose to the verge of frenzy when his old field of rev-
olutionary failures was the scene of action. Even
rumors of war between Mexico and the United States,
which were of frequent occurrence, were usually too
much for his equanimity. I remember one instance
in particular, while he w^as writing at General Vallejo's
dictation, in November 1875, news came of serious
troubles in the south, and he gave me notice that he
should be obliged to abandon his work and fly to the
rescue of something or to death. I requested Vallejo
to pacify him, since he might not receive my opinion
in the matter as wholly disinterested. Shortly after-
ward Cerruti returned for a time to San Francisco, and
General Yallejo wrote him there. After a lengthy
and flowery review of their labors as associates during
the last year and a half. General Vallejo goes on to
say: "I have heard that the noise made by the press
in relation to the annexation of Mexico to the United
States has made a deep impression upon you, and
that you contemplate going to see the world in those
regions. Believe me, general, el ruido es onas que las
nueces. If, as is said, it were certain that war be-

A MIGHTY MANUSCRIPT. 439

tween the two republics is about to break out, then
you might go forth in search of adventures, but not
otherwise. Under such circumstances Mexico would
play the role of the smaller fish, and the consequence
would be that manifest destiny would absorb Chi-
huahua and Sonora. It is necessary to wait until
what is passing in the lofty regions of diplomacy be
disclosed. My opinion is that you should wait."
Vallejo's arguments were convincing: Cerruti aban-
doned his project. The general concludes his letter
as follows: '^To-morrow I shall leave for San Fran-
cisco to see you, and if possible we will go to
Healdsburg. I believe that there we shall harvest
the papers of Mrs Fitch, and obtain from her a very
good narration concerning San Diego matters, its
siege by the Californians, the imprisonment of Cap-
tain Fitch, Bandini, and others." General Vallejo
came down as he proposed; the breast of the hero
of Bolivian revolutions was quiet; the two generals
proceeded to Healdsburg, and a thick volume of docu-
ments lettered as the archives of the Fitch family was
thereby secured to the library.

The history by General Vallejo being an accom-
plished fact, the next thing in order was its presenta-
tion to the library. This was done, of necessity,
with a great flourish of trumpets. First came to me
a letter which I translate as follows :

" Lachryma Montis, November 16, 1875.
"Hubert H. Bancroft, Esq.:

"■Esteemed Friend: Years ago, at the urgent request of many Californians
who desired to see the deeds of their ancestors correctly transmitted to
posterity, I undertook the pleasant though arduous task of recording my
native country's history from the- date of its settlement by Europeans to the
year 1850, when our California became a state in the American union.

"Fortune, however, did not smile upon my undertaking, since my manu-
script, the result of long and careful labor, was destroyed by the flames that
on the 13th day of April 1867 consumed my residence at Sonoma.

"Two years ago, impelled by the same motives, with undiminished en-
thusiasm for the work, and with a higher idea than ever of its importance, I
decided to recommence my task. I was aware that a soldier narrating events
in which he has figured as a prominent actor, does so at the risk of having

440 CLOSE OF THE CERRUTI-VALLEJO CAMPAIGN.

liis impartiality questioned by some ; and what made me still more diffident
was the conviction that the work should have been done by others among the
native Californians more competent to discharge it in a satisfactory manner ;
but noticing no disposition on the part of any of them to take the duty oflf my
liands, I cheerfully, though with some misgivings as to my success, assumed it.

"The memoranda of my respected father, Don Ignacio Vallejo, who came
to California in 1772, for early historical events, together with my own recol-
lections and notes, as well as documents and data kindly furnished by worthy
cooperators, have enabled me to do justice, as I hope, to so important a subject.

"Friends have attached, perhaps, an exaggerated value to the result of my
efforts, the manuscript not having as yet fallen under the eyes of critics who
would pronounce upon its merits uninfluenced by friendship for the author.
T am convinced, however, that I have avoided the prejudices so apt to bias
the soldier who gives a narrative of his own career, and fairly represented the
actions and motives of my countrymen.

' ' Though I held, during many years, a prominent position in California, I
deemed it proper to mention my acts only when I could not possibly avoid it.

"Personal disputes and petty differences among my countrymen in the
early times, and with Anglo-Americans in later years, I have touched upon
as lightly as is consistent with historical accuracy. I have no wish to con-
tribute to the revival of any national, religious, or personal prejudice; and it
is no part of my plan either to flatter friends or abuse enemies.

"I had at first, my friend, intended to give my labors to the world in my
own name, but having noticed with much satisfaction the ability and exact-
ness displayed in your work. The Native Races of the Pacific States, I concluded
to place my five volumes of manuscripts at your disposal, to use as you may
deem best, confident that you will present to us a complete and impartial
history of California, having at your command the data and documents fur-
nished you by the best informed native Californians, in addition to all that
printed works and public and private archives can supply.

"Your work will be accepted by the world, which already knows you for
a trustworthy writer, as a reliable and complete history of my native land.
Mine, however favorably received, would perhaps be looked upon as giving,
on many points, only M. G. Vallejo's version.

"I think I may safely assert that the most enlightened and patriotic por-
tion of the native Californians will cheerfully place their country's fair fame
in your hands, confident that you will do it justice.

"In this trust they are joined by their humble fellow-countryman and
your sincere friend,

"M. G. Vallejo."

To this I made reply in the foUowing^ words :

"San Francisco, November 26, 1875.
"My Dear General:

' ' I have carefully examined the five large manuscript volumes upon which
you have been occupied for the past two years, and which you have so gener-
ously placed at my disposal.

LETTER OF ACCEPTANCE. 441

'*In the name of the people of California, those now living and those who
shall come after us, permit me to thank you for your noble contribution to
the history of this western land.

"You have done for this north-western section of the ancient Spanish-
American possessions what Ovi jdo, Las Casas, Torquemada, and other chron-
iclers of the Indies did for the New World as known to them. You have
saved from oblivion an immense mass of material deeply interesting to the
reader and of vital importance to all lovers of exact knowledge.

"The history of your country begins, naturally, with the expeditions
directed north-westward by Nuiio de Guzman in 1530, and the gradual occu-
pation, during two centuries and a quarter, of Nueva Galicia, Nueva Vizcaya,
and the Californias.

"The deeds of Guzman, his companions, and his successors, the disastrous
attempts of the great Hernan Cortes to explore the Pacific shore, and the
spiritual conquests of the new lands by the Company of Jesus, are recorded
in surviving fragments of secular and ecclesiastical archives, in the numerous
original papers of the Jesuit missionaries, and in the standard works of such
authors as Mota Padilla, Eibas, Alegre, Frejes, Arricivita, and Beaumont,
or — on Baja California especially — Venegas, Clavigero, Baegert, and one or
two anonymous authorities.

"When the Franciscans so shrewdly gave up Baja California to the rival
order of St Dominic, the prize which had fallen into their hands at the
expulsion of the Jesuits in 1767, and took upon themselves, two years later,
the conversion of the northern barbarians, the records still received due
attention from Padre Junipero's zealous missionary band ; and, thanks to the
efforts of Padre Francisco Palou, the most important of the documents may
be consulted in print, together with a connected narrative in the same
author's life of Junipero Serra.

"From the period embraced in Palou 's writings down to the incorpora-
tion of our state into the northern union, the world knows almost nothing of
Californian history, from Californian sources. Hundreds of travellers from
different lands came to our shores, each of whom gave to the world tlie result
of his observations during a visit or brief residence, the whole constituting a
most valuable source of information. Most of these writers gave also an his-
torical sketch ; a few read Palou 's life of Serra, consulted some of the more
accessible documents, in state or mission archives, and obtained fragmentary
data from native residents ; the rest copied, with mutilations and omissions,
the work of the few.

"All these sketches were superficial and incomplete; many were grossly
inaccurate ; not a few were written with the intent, or at least willingness, to
deceive, in the interest of party, clique, or section. The official records of the
Anglo-American invasion and conquest were more complete and accurate, but
it presented only one side where it were best to have both.

"I desired to treat the subject in all its phases, impartially and exhaust-
ively ; of one thing I felt the need above all others — of a history of Spanish
and Mexican California, including the Anglo-American invasion, written from
a Hispano- American standpoint, by a native Californian of culture, promi-
nent among and respected by his countrymen, possessed of sound judgment,

442 CLOSE OF THE CERRUTI-VALLEJO CAMPAIGN.

a liberal spirit, an enthusiastic love for his subject, and appreciation of ita
importance. These qualifications. General, you have long been known to
possess in a high degree, and more fully than any other living man could
have done have you supplied the pressing need to which I have alluded.

"In the conquest of Alta Calif ornia the missionary and the soldier marched
side by side ; but the padres for the most part had the telling of the story,
and not unlikely claimed more than belonged to them of credit for success.

"Your respected father, Don Ignacio Vallejo, educated for the church,
abandoned a distasteful ecclesiastical life when on its very threshold, in spite
of prospective priestly honors, and came here to fight the battle of life with
the sword instead of the rosary. From the first he was identified with the
interests of California, as were his children after him ; the two generations
embrace all there is, save only three years, of our country's annals. Your
father's memoranda, with the work of Governor Pedro Fages — the latter, for
the most part, descriptive rather than historical — are about all we have from
a secular point of view on the earliest times ; and they supply, besides, most
useful materials bearing on the later years of Spanish rule down to the
time from which your own recollections date, in the rule of the most worthy
Governor Pablo Vicente de Sola.

"For a period of thirty years, from 1815 to 1845, your work stands without
a rival among your predecessors in its completeness and interest ; and I confi-
dently expect to find it as accurate as it is fascinating. Recording hundreds
of minor occurrences wholly unknown to previous writers, you also devote
chapters to each leading event hitherto disposed of in a paragraph or a page.
To specify the points thus carefully recorded would be to give en r6sam6 the
annals of our state; suffice it to say that in your pages I find brought out,
in comparatively brighter light than ever before, the long continued struggle
against aboriginal barbarism ; the operations of the unwelcome Russian colo-
nists; Captain Bouchard and his insurgent band at Monterey in 1818; news
of the Mexican independence in 1822, and its eff'ect in California; the change
from imperial to constitutional government in 1824; opposition of the padres
to republicanism ; end of the pastoral and inauguration of the revolutionary
period; California as a Mexican penal colony; the revolts of Herrera and
Solis in 1828-9; the varying policy in Mexico and California on secular-
ization; overthrow of Governor Victoria, and the exile of unmanageable
padres; the colonization 'grab' of Hijar and Pudr^s, defeated by Governor
Figueroa in 1835, and saving of the missions for other hands to plunder; con-
quests on the northern frontier by Alf6rez Vallejo and Prince Solano; the
uprising of Californian federalists against Mexican centralism, and the down-
fall of governors Chico and Gutierrez ; the rule of Governor Juan B. Alvarado
and General M. G. Vallejo from 1836 to 1842; rebellion of the south, and
long continued strife between the Arribeiios andAbajefios; the gradual in-
crease of overland immigration ; and, finally, the varied events of a still later
period. From 1846 to 1850 your work is brought more into comparison with
others — a comparison which, I doubt not, will serve only more full to confirm
the value of the whole as an authentic source of knowledge.

"The above is but a mutilated skeleton of the living historic body created
by your pen. It is not, however, as a record of dry facts, of the succession

SUMMARY OF CONTENTS. 443

of rulers, of victories over revolting malcontents or gentile Indians, of the
acts of public officials, that your writings impress me as having their highest
value ; but rather as pictures of early Califomian life and character. The
functions of the skeleton's larger bones are not more important but rather
less interesting tlian those of the complicated net-work of veins, nerves, and
more delicate organs which give symmetry and life to the body. I note with
pleasure your evident appreciation of the true historical spirit, which no
longer ignores the masses to describe the commonplace acts of rulers. This
appreciation is clearly shown in the vivid pictures you present of life among
all classes. Rich and poor, official and private, secular and religious, padre,
neophyte, and gentile ; soldier, sailor, merchant, and smuggler ; the wealthy
hacendodo and humble ranchero; aristocrat and plebeian — all appear to the
view as they lived and acted in the primitive pre-gringo tunes. Besides your
delineations of the mission, presidio, and pueblo systems; of secularization
schemes; of agricultural, commercial, and industrial resources; of political,
judicial, and educational institutions, we have in a lighter vein charming
recollections of school-boy days ; popular diversions of young and old ; the in-
door music, dancing, and feasting, and the out-door picnic, race, and bull-fight ;
ceremonial displays under church auspices, and official receptions of high dig-
nitaries or welcome visitors from abroad ; care of the church for the welfare
and morality of the people, home customs, interesting incidents of social life,
weddings, elopements, and ludicrous practical jokes — the whole constituting
a most masterly picture, which no foreigner has ever equalled or ever could
equal ; a view from the interior which none could paint save an artist-actor
in the scenes portrayed.

" I have to thank you not only for this most valuable and timely gift, but
for some fifty large folio volumes of original papers to vouch for or correct
what you have written, as well as for your generous interest in the task I
have undertaken, and your influence among your countrymen in my behalf. I
have been able to procure many other original narratives, written by native
Calif ornians and old residents — less exhaustive than your own contribution,
but still very important — together with thousands of documents from family
archives ; and my store of material is daily augmenting. I am grateful for
the confidence with which you and other distinguished Californians intrust
to me the task of transmitting to coming generations the deeds of your-
selves and your fathers, and I accept the task with a full realization of the
responsibilities incurred. My purpose is to write a complete, accurate, and
impartial history of California. With access practically to all that has been
written on the subject by natives or by foreigners, and to all the papers of
public and private archives, I expect to succeed.^ In case of such success, to
none of the many who have aided or may aid in my work shall I be placed
under greater obligations, General, and to none shall I ever more cheerfully
acknowledge my indebtedness, than to yourself.

"Very sincerely, Hubert H. Baxcroft."

This correspondence was published at the time in all
the leading journals, of various languages; after which
the sun moved on in its accustomed course.

444 CLOSE OF THE CERRUTI-VALLEJO CAMPAIGN.

On the 9th of October, 187G, at Sonoma, Enrique
Cerruti killed liiinself. I was east at the time, and the
painful intelligence was sent me by General Vallejo.
The cause of this deplorable act was losses in mining
stocks. For a year past he had been gambling in
these in-securities, and during the latter part of this
time he w^as much demoralized. The disgrace attend-
ing failures was beyond his endurance. He could be
brave anywhere but there ; but heroes make wry faces
over the toothache, and philosophers groan as loudly
as others when troubled with pains in the liver. He
who is tranquillized by a tempest or a war-trumpet
quails before the invocation of his own thoughts.

When I left San Francisco in June he attended me
to the ferry, and was outwardly in his usual health
and spirits. He continued his work at the library
only a few weeks after my departure, so that when
he died he had not been in my service for three
months; indeed, so nervous and eccentric had become
his brain by his speculations that for some time past
he had been totally unfit for literary labor.

He wrote me for two thousand dollars; but his
letter lay in New York while I was absent in the
White mountains, and I did not receive it till too
late. The amount he asked for, however, even if I
had been in time with it, would not have saved him,
for he owed, as was afterward estimated, from fifteen
to twenty thousand dollars. He had borrowed this
money from his friends, and had lost it; and his ina-
bility to pay well nigh maddened him. He talked of
suicide for six months previous, but no attention was
paid to his threats. Just before leaving for Sonoma he
bade all farewell for the last time; some lauo^hed at
him, others offered to bet with him that he would not
do it; no one believed him. He had quarrelled and
made peace alternately with every person in the li-
brary; he had denounced every friend he had, one after
the other, as the cause of his ruin. Then again it was
his fate; he had been so cursed from childhood. How-

FAREWELL CERRUTI ! 445

ever, death should balance all accounts, and swallow
all dishonor ; though his friends failed to perceive how
a claim against a dead Cerruti w^as better than a claim
against a live one. O man ! Passing the vita pro vita,
is the rest nothing but protoplasm ?

Why he selected Sonoma as the point of his final
departure no one knows, unless it was for dramatic
effect. He was a lover of notoriety; and a tragic
act would command more attention there than in a
large city. Then there were the Vallejos, his dearest
friends — he might have chosen to be buried near
them. Gunpowder, too, one would have thought
nearer akin to his taste than drugs. He was fully
determined to die, for, laudanum failing, he resorted
to strychnine. Awakened by his groans, the hotel
people sent for Mrs Vallcjo, who tried to administer
an antidote, but he refused to receive it. The coroner
telegraphed the firm, and Mr. Savage represented the
library at the burial.

Poor, dear Cerruti! If I had him back with me
alive, I would not give him up for all Nevada's mines.
His ever welcome presence; his ever pleasing speech,
racy in its harmless bluster; his ever charming ways,
fascinating in their guileful simplicity, the far-reach-
ing round earth does not contain his like. Alas,
Cerrutti! with another I might say, I could have
better lost a better man !

CHAPTEE XIX.

HOME.

There is no happiness in life, there is no misery, like that growing out of
the dispositions which consecrate or desecrate a home.

Chapiu.

I ALMOST despaired of ever having a home again.
I was growing somewhat old for a young wife, and I
had no fancy for taking an old one. The risk on both
sides I felt to be great. A Buffalo lady once wrote
me: ''All this time you might be making some one
person happy." I replied: ''All this time I might be
making two persons miserable." And yet no one
realized more fully than myself that a happy marriage
doubles the resources, and completes the being which
otherwise fails in the fullest development of its intui-
tions and yearnings. The twain are, in the nature
human, one; each without loss gives what the other
lacks.

There were certain qualities I felt to be essential
not only to my happiness, but to my continued literary
success. I was so constituted by nature that I could
not endure domestic infelicity. Little cared I for the
world, with its loves and hates, whether it regarded
me kindly, or not at all. I had a world within me
w^hose good- will I could command so long as I was at
peace with myself Little cared I for a scowl here,
or an attack there ; out am ong men I felt myself equal
to cope with any of them. But my home must be to
me heaven or hell. There was no room in my head
for discord, nor in my heart for bitterness.

To write well, to do anything well, a right-inten-

(446)

HUSBAND AND WIFE. 447

tioned humane man must be at peace with the one
nearest him. Many a time in my younger married
hfe has a cross word, dropped upon her I loved on
leaving my home in the morning, so haunted me while
at my business, so buzzed about my ears, so filmed my
eyes, and thumped upon the incrustment within which
I had wrapped my heart, that I have flung down my
work, gone back and dispelled the offence, after which
I might return untroubled to my business. Drop into
the heart a sweet word, and it will perch itself and
sing all the night long, and all the day; drop into the
heart a sharp word, and, rat-like, it will scratch all
round, and gnaw, and gnaw, and gnaw!

Nothing so quickly dissipated my ideas, and spoiled
a day for me, as domestic disturbances. I had long
since accustomed myself to throw off the ever present
annoyances of business, even placing my literary peace
of mind above the reach of the money-wranglers.
But in my home, where my whole being was so di-
rectly concerned, where all my sympathies were
enlisted and all my affections centred, derangement
were fatal.

Hence it was, as the years went by and I found
myself day after day alone, after exhaustion had driven
me from my writing, that I regarded less hopefully
my chances of again having a home.

*'I will keep house for you," my daughter used to
say.

'' But you will marry," was my reply.

" Then we will live with you."

" I would not have 3^ou."

^' Then you shall live with us."

'' 'Us' I shall never live with."

'' Then I shall not marry!" was the conclusion com-
monly arrived at.

I had sold my dwelling on California street for sev-
eral reasons. It was large and burdensome to one
situated as I was. Much of my time I wished to
spend out of the city, where I would be removed

448 HOME.

from constant interruption. As long as I had a house
I must entertain company. This I enjo}^ed when time
was at my disposal; but drives, and dinners, and late
hours dissipated literary effort, and with so much
before me to be done, and a score of men at my back
whom I must keep employed, I could take little
pleasure in pastime which called me long from the
library.

My great fear of marrying was lest I should fasten
to my side a person who would hurry me off the
stage before my task was done, or otherwise so con-
found me that I never should be able to complete my
labors. This an inconsiderate woman could accom-
plish in a variety of ways — as, for instance, by lack
of sympathy in my labors; by inordinate love of
pleasure, which finds in society gossip its highest
gratification; by love of display, which leads to ex-
pensive living, and the like.

Naturally shrinking from general society, and pre-
ferring books and solitude to noisy assemblies, like
Euripides I was undoubtedly regarded by some as
sulky and morose; yet I believe few ever held hu-
manity in higher esteem or carried a kinder heart for
all men than I. "When a man has great studies,"
says George Eliot, ''and is v/riting a great work, he
must, of course, give up seeing much of the world.
How can he go about making acquaintances?"

Often had I been counselled to marry; but whom
should I marry? I must have one competent, men-
tally, to be a companion — one in whom my mind might
rest while out of harness. Then the affection must
have something to feed on, if one would not see the
book- writer become a monstrosity and turn all into
head. To keep a healthy mind in a healthy body the
intellectual toiler of all other men needs sympathy,
which shall be to him as the morning sun to the frost-
stiffened plant. It is not well to wholly uproot feeling
or thrust affection back upon the heart.

As the healthy body seeks food, so the healthy

MIND AND MATRIMONY. 449

mind faints for friendship, and the healthy heart for
love. Nor will love of friends and relatives alone
suffice. The solitary being sighs for its mate, its other
self. Blindly, then, if we shut from our breast the
blessed light of heaven, the tendrils of affection
stretch forth even though they encounter only the
dead wall of buried hopes.

Whom should I marry, then? The question oft
repeated itself Do not all women delight in the
fopperies of fashionable life more than in what might
seem to them dry, fruitless toil? Where should love
be found of such transforming strength as to meta-
morphose into Me a female mind of fair intelligence,
and endow its possessor with the same extravagant
enthusiasm of which I was possessed?

No; better a thousand times no wife at all than
one who should prove unwilling to add her sacrifice to
mine for the accomplishment of a high purpose; who
should fail to see things as I saw them, or to make
my interest hers; who should not believe in me and
in my work w^ith her whole soul; who should not be
content to make my heart her home, and go with me
wherever duty seemed to call, or who could not find
in intellectual progress the highest pleasure.

For years my heart had lain a-rusting; now I
thought I might bring it out, clean and polish it, and
see if it might not be as good as new. It had been
intimated by certain critics that I had allowed love of
literature to rival love of woman. But this was not
true. I was ready at any time to marry the woman
who should appear to me in the form of a dispensation.

Appetite underlies all activity. In the absence of
appetite one may rest. Happy he whose intellect is
never hungry, whose soul is ever satisfied with its fair
round fatness, and the sum of whose activities is con-
fined to the body, to feed, grow, and reproduce. Let
him delight in the domestic sanctuar}^. Let him go
forth happily in the morning, and let him send to his

Lit. Ind. 29

450 HOME.

loved ones their beef and turnips, as tokens of affec-
tion. Unto such it is given ever to be joyous, and to
disguise sorrow; but let not the man of loftier aspira-
tions seek rest upon this planet, for he shall not find it.

In mirth men are sincere; in sobriety hypocritical.
It is behind the mask of gravity that the fantastic
tricks which turn and overturn society are performed.
Joy is more difficult to counterfeit than sorrow. We
may cloud the sun witli smoked glass, but we cannot
dissipate the clouds with any telescope of human in-
vention.

The higher order of literary character above all
things loves simplicity and a quiet life; loves tran-
quillity of mind and a body free from pain; hates
interruptions, controversial wranglings, and personal
publicity. Thus it was with Scott, Dugald Stewart,
and a host of others. Not the least stranofe anions: the
contrarieties of human nature are the idiosyncrasies of
authors. Why should men of genius so commonly be
dissipated, quarrelsome, and void of common sense?
Minds the w^isest, the most exalted, the most finely
strung, seem inseparable from some species of madness.
Men of genius usually in some directions are visionary
dreamers; in many directions they are often as in-
genuous as children, likewise as wayward and as petu-
lant. No wonder women cannot endure them. Meanly
selfish, the wayward follies of childhood are intensi-
fied by the stubborn w^ill of the man. Like the ever
changing waters, now their disposition is as the dew
of morning sitting with exquisite daintiness on every
web and petal, refreshing every leaf and flower, then
bursting forth in merciless storm, beating on all it
loves and laying low its own. And yet the moisture
is the same and eternally reviving; so that, whether
the mood of these men is as the silent vapor or the
raging sea, whether their speech is as the dropping of
pearly dew or as the beating of the rain-storm, their
minds are an exhaustless ocean of life -sustaining
thought.

DOMESTIC INFELICITY. 451

The wife of a literary man has her own pecuUar
troubles, which the world knows not of Much of
the time she is left alone while her husband is buried
in his studies. She craves more of his society, per-
haps, than he feels able to give her; the theatre, the
opera, and evening parties in a measure she is obliged
to forego. When talking to her, his speech is not
always pleasing. From seeming moroseness he some-
times darts off at the angle of an absurd idea, or
indulges in a deluge of dialectics upon society, poli-
tics, religion, or any subject which happens to fall
under his observation. Besides this he may be at
times nervous, fretful, whimsical, full of fault-findings
and unjust complaints about the very things to which
she has devoted her most careful attention. When
we consider all this we cannot much wonder at the
proverbial domestic infelicities of authors. Lecky
affirms that " no painter or novelist, who wished to
depict an ideal of perfect happiness, would seek it in
a profound student."

What a catalogue they make, to be sure, taken
almost at random. The name of Xanthippe, wife
of Socrates, has become a byword in history for a
shrew. But not every one is, like the great Athenian
sage, possessed of the philosophy to choose a wife as
he would make choice of a restive horse, so that in
the management of her he might learn the better to
manage mankind.

Cicero, after thirty years of married life, divorced
Terentia, his darling, the delight of his eje^, and the
best of mothers, as he repeatedly called her. Dante,
Albert DUrer, Moliere, Scaliger, Steele, and Shake-
speare were unhappy in their wives. At the age of
eight years Byron made love and rhymes to Mary
Duff, at eleven to Margaret Parker, and at fifteen
to Mar}^ Chaworth. The last named Mary refusing
him, he finally married Anne Isabella Milbanke. A
year of married life had hardly passed before Lady

452 HOME.

Byron was back in her father's house. He who
awoke one morning and found himself famous — such
is the irony of fame — was mobbed by his late adorers,
and soon quitted England forever. At Venice this
most licentious of poets met Teresa Gamba, wife of
Count Guiccioli, who kindly winked at a liaison be-
tween his countess and the Eno^lish lord.

Burns made sad work of it; first falling in love
with his harvesting companion, a bonnie sweet lass of
fourteen, then falling out with Jean Armour, a rustic
beauty, leaving her twins to support, next engaging
to marry Colonel Montgomery's dairy -maid, Mary
Campbell, her whom he made immortal as Highland
Mary, singing of her as Mary in Heaven before the
nuptials were consummated on earth, and finally re-
turning to his old love, Jean Armour, and marrying
her — meanwhile so intemperate that, last of all, he
died of overmuch drink.

In the Dowager Countess of Warwick, Addison
found an uncongenial wife, and spent the remainder
of his life, as Whipple says, in taverns, clubs, and
repentance. The Lady Elizabeth Howard, daughter
of the earl of Berkshire, added nothing to the hap-
piness of Dryden, whom she married. Montaigne
found married life troublesome ; La Fontaine deserted
his wife; and Rousseau went after strange goddesses.

The refined Shelley separated from Harriet West-
brook, the innkeeper's daughter, two years after their
marriage. It seems he preferred to his wife another
woman, Mary Godwin, and after living with her for
two years, his wife meanwhile kindly drowning her-
self, he married his mistress; not that he regarded the
marriage contract as binding, or in any wise necessary,
but because it would give pleasure to Mary. After
breaking half a score of hearts, Goethe, before he
married her, lived twenty-eight years with the bright-
eyed girl whom he had met in the park at Weimar.

At the end of the honeymoon, Mary Powell left
John Milton, went back to her father's house, and

A FRIGHTFUL CATALOGUE. 453

refused to return; though two years later a reconciU-
ation was effected. The wife of Thackeray was over-
taken by a fever and put out to be nursed, while the
husband and two daughters lived with his mother.

Hazlitt, one of the most brilliant of critics and
eloquent of essayists, had a most infelicitous matrimo-
nial experience. In 1808 he married Miss Stoddart.
After living with her some ten years, he fell crazily
in love with a tailor's daughter. So fiercely burned
this flame that he divorced his wife, she nothing loath,
and threw himself at the feet of the maid, only to
be rejected. Then he espoused a widow, Mrs Bridge-
water, who left him within a year after marriage.

Even gentle Charles Lamb broke a marriage en-
gagement, because of a tendency to insanity in his
family, and on account of his sister, Mary Lamb, who
killed her mother, and was obliged to be confined in a
lunatic asylum periodically.

Pope, who dives deep into the human heart and
makes its inmost recesses his familiar haunt, is so fool-
ish in his professions of love for Lady Mary Wortley
Montagu that she laughs in his face, thereby incurring
his deadly enmity forever after.

How much better it would be for literary men
to marry as all nature marries, under direction of
their harmonies, and then rest in their new relations.
There is no question that an evenly balanced mind
can labor more steadily, can do more and better work,
under the calm and well regulated freedom of the mar-
riage state than when unsettled by restless cravings.
But these men of genius seem to have married their
woes instead of their pleasures.

The women in many instances seem to be no better
than the men. Indeed, the wife has bleu, one badly
affected with cacoetJies scribendi, is about as unlov-
able a woman as a female doctor. Felicitous Felicia
Hemans, after making her sick captain very unhappy,
let him go to Italy while she went home; after whicl]
they never took the trouble to meet. George Sand,

454 HOME.

finding life with a husband unendurable, began a
separation by taking her children to Paris and there
spending half the year, the other half being occupied
in the direction of divorce.

Divorce alone did not satisfy Rosina Wheeler, wife
of Edward Bulwer Lytton, but she must pubhsh books
against her former husband, and harangue against
him at the hustings when he stood for parliament.
At railing and carping she outdid sleepy Momus.
Madame de Stael, if she hated not marriage, hated
the fruits of it. Said she of her children: "lis ne
me ressemblent pas;" and of her daughter, whom she
affected to despise: " C'est une lune bien pale." This
talented lady should have lived among the Chinese,
who maintain that '* the happiest mother of daughters
is she who has only sons;" just as Saint Paul thought
those best married who had no wives. Talents cease
to be becoming when they render a mother indifferent
or averse to her offspring.

But there is this of Madame de Stael which may
be said in her favor: Her life, so far as conjugal hap-
piness was concerned, was a wreck, just as the life of
many another woman of intellect and culture has
been one long-drawn sigh for companionship. Hollow
as is a life for society, and hard as is a life of alone-
ness, either is preferable to the soul -slavery of a
woman tied to a companionless husband. George
Eliot, the matchless, the magnificent — but we will
drop the curtain!

In this practical scientific age the subtlest science
is the science of self Man is possessed of many
vagaries; and of all occupations the writing of books
is attended by the most pains and whimsicalities.
Extraordinary strength in one direction is balanced
by extraordinary weakness in another; as a rule you
may debit a man with folly in proportion as you
credit him with wisdom.

Higher and better trained than any we are apt to

MORE ABOUT ^VIVES. 455

meet must be the intellect that finds in utility alone
a sufficient incentive to well-doing. Every day we
see men of education wilfully transgressing, regardless
of consequences, while the ignorant and superstitious,
under religious fear, shun the evil that ends in disaster.

Joaquin Miller admired Byron. Byron treated his
wife badly; Joaquin treated his wife badly. Joaquin
was satisfied that in no other way could he be Byron — •
and Joaquin was right. In this respect, as in every
other, alas ! I may not lay claim to genius.

Though not uniformly even-tempered and amiable,
I cannot say that I delight in tormenting my family.
Many times I have attempted it and failed. I lack the
fortitude to face the consequences; I find defeat less
painful than victory. Twelve times groaned Eugene
Aram ; his murdered victim groaned but twice. Man's
inhumanity, not Satan^ is man s greatest enemy.

But while we jointly abhor those abnormities of
"genius which tend to injustice and cruelty, let us not
forget that genius is eccentric, and nowhere more so
than in its relations with women. Genius, to be genius,
must be irregular. He who is charged with the pos-
session of genius, if he be in every respect like every
other man, obviously either he is no genius or else all
men arc men of genius. Therefore the men of sense
must exercise their patience while the men of genius
make idiots of themselves.

Notwithstanding all that has been said and written
concerning the domestic infelicities of authors, and
let me add of others, the one thousandth part has not
been told. Only a few of the insaner sort have come
to the light. Of smothered wrongs and unheralded
hates; of thorny marriage beds, and poisoned connu-
bial lives which have never been blazoned abroad, if
all were written, the libraries of the world would
needs be doubled. Millions have thus lived and died,
nevertheless there have been those so seemingly swept
onward by the saturnine influence of marital infelici-
ties that escape appeared impossible; and so within

456 HOME.

the month we see the heart-broken Mrs Bluebeard
marrying the fascinating Captain Blackbeard.

In the eyes of Demosthenes two quahfications only
were essential in a wife ; she must be a faithful house-
guardian and a fruitful mother. But times have
greatly changed since the days of Demosthenes : Irish
servants are the house-guardians, and the best wives
often those that are not mothers at all.

No one possessed of manliness will marry a woman
for money. For unless she voluntarily dispossesses
herself of her property, which no woman in her senses
will do, and becomes a puppet in her husband's hands,
she is apt sooner or later to unloose the reins of
womanly decorum and to arrogate to herself not only
the management of her own affairs but also her hus-
band's. As Juvenal wrote with the women of Home
before him:

"Sure of all ills with which mankind are curst
A wife who brings you money is the worst."

To me the long catalogue of matrimonial infernal-
isms has no siQ:niiicance other than that of congratu-
lation at my escape from such loving woes. The
younger Pliny I will take for my text, and out-swear
him double upon his domestic peace. Hear him talk
of his Calpurnia: ''Her intelligence is very great,
very great her frugality ; in loving me she shows how
good a heart she has. And she has now a fondness
for letters, which springs from her affection for me.
She keeps my books by her, loves to read them, even
learns them by heart. These things make me feel a
most certain hope that there will be a perpetual and
ever growing harmony between us. For it is not
youth or personal beauty that she loves in me — things
that by degrees decline with old age — but my fame."

Her life was one continuous sparkle, like that of
good wine whose spirit is immortal. Her face was
as a lovely landscape, brightly serene, warmed by all-

FOUND AT LAST. 457

melting sympathy^ and lighted by the glow of intel-
lect. Her voice was like the laughing water; her
laugh was ringing silver; and through the soft azure
of her eye the eye of love might see an ocean of
affection. Joyous was her approach, lighting with her
sunbeam smile the dismal recesses of reflection; and
beaming beautiful as she was without, I found her,
as Aristotle says of Pythias, as fair and good within.

Beneath sweet and simple speech in which was
no sting, behind a childlike manner in which was no
childishness, there was revealed to me, day by day
as we walked and talked together, a full developed
womanly character, strong, deep, comprehensive. Ral-
lying to my support with ever increasing mental
powers, by her ready aid and fond encouragement
she doubled my capabilities from the first. For no
less in these, than in the good wife's tender trust, lies
the strong man's strength.

New Haven had been her home, and of the families
of that old university to\vn hers was among the most
respected. It was there I first met her, and afterward
at Bethlehem, the highest of New England villages.
Walking down the dusty road, we turned aside into
a rocky field, crossing into a lane which led us to a
tangled wood, where, seated on a fallen tree, each spoke
the words to speak which we were there. It was the
12th of October, 1876, that I married Matilda Coley
Griffing; and from the day that she was mine, wher-
ever her sweet presence, there was my home.

There was no little risk on her part, in thus com-
mitting the new wine of her love to an old bottle;
but that risk she took, retained her fresh maidenly
mood unhackne3^ed, and never burst the confine of
wifely courtesy.

It has been elsewhere intimated that no one is
competent to write a book who has not already
written several books. The same observation mig^ht
be not inappropriately applied to marriage. No man
— I will not say woman — is really in the fittest condi-

458 HOME.

tion to marry who has not been married before. For
obvious reasons, a middle-aged man ought to make a
better husband than a very young man. He lias had
more experience; he should know more, have better
control of himself, and be better prepared to have
consideration for those dependent upon him for hap-
piness or support. The young man, particularly one
who has not all his life enjoyed the noblest and best
of female society, does not always entertain the high-
est opinion of woman, never having reached the finer
qualities of her mind and heart, and having no con-
ception of the superiority of her refined and gentle
nature over his own. Hence the inexperienced youth,
launched upon the untried ocean of matrimony, often
finds himself in the midst of storms which might have
been with ease avoided, had he been possessed of
greater tact or experience.

And the children which come later in the lives of
their parents — we might say, happy are they as com-
pared with those who appeared before them. It is
safe to say that one half the children born into the
world die in infancy through the ignorance or neglect
of their parents; and of the other half, their lives for
the most part are made miserable from the same
cause. The young husband and father chafes under
the new cares and anxieties incident to untried respon-
sibilities which interfere with his comfort and pleasure,
and the child must suffer therefrom. Often a newly
married pair are not ready at once to welcome children ;
they are perhaps too nmch taken up with themselves
and the pleasures and pastimes of society. Later in
life parents are better prepared, more in the humor it
may be, more ready to find their chief pleasure in
welcoming to the world successive reproductions of
themselves, and watching the physical and mental
unfolding, and ministering to the comfort and joy of
the new and stranoe little beino^s committed to them.

There was little lack of sympathy between us, my
wife and me, little lack of heart, and head, and hand

THE NEW LIFE. 459

help. After the journeying incident to this new re-
lationship was over, and I once more settled at work,
all along down the days and years of future ploddings
patiently by ray side she sat, her face the picture of
happy contentment, assisting me with her quick appli-
cation and sound discrimination, making notes, study-
ing my manuscript, and erasing or altering such
repetitions and solecisms as crept into my work.

At White Sulphur springs, and Santa Cruz, where
we spent the following spring and summer, on the
hotel porches used to sit the feathery- brained women
of fashion from the cit}^ — used there to sit and cackle,
cackle, cackle, all the morning, and all the evening,
while we were at our work; and I never before so
realized the advantasre to woman of ennobling: occu-
pation. Why should she be the vain and trifling
thing, intellectually, that she generally is? How long
will those who call themselves ladies exercise their
influence to make work degrading, and only folly
fashionable? At the Springs during this time there
was a talented woman of San Francisco, well known
in select circles, who had written a volume of really
beautiful poems, but who assured me she was ashamed
to publish it, on account of the damage it would be
to her socially; that is to say, her frivolous sisters
would tolerate no sense in her.

But little cared we for any of them. We were
content; nay, more, we were very happy. Kising
early and breakfasting at eight o'clock, we devoted
the forenoon to work. After luncheon we walked, or
rode, or drove, usuall}^ until dinner, after which my
wife and daughter mingled with the company, while
I wrote often until ten or eleven o'clock. In this
way I could average ten hours a day; which, but for
the extraordinary strength of my constitution, must
be regarded twice as much as I should have done.

It was a great saving to me of time and strength,
this taking my work into the country. In constant
communication with the library, I could draw thence

460 HOME.

daily such fresh material as I required, and as often
as necessary visit the library in person, and have
supervision of things there. Thus was my time
divided between the still solitude of the country and
the noisy solitude of the city.

Never in my life did I work harder or accomplish
more than during the years immediately succeeding
my marriage, while at the same time body and mind
grew stronger under the fortifying influences of home.

For a year and more before my marriage I had
been under promise to my daughter to go east at the
close of her summer school term and accompany her
to the centennial exhibition at Philadelphia. This
I did, leaving San Francisco the 15th of June 187G,
and taking her, with her two cousins and a young
lady friend, to the great w^orld's show, there to spend
the first two weeks in July. Thence we all re-
turned to New Haven. During a previous visit east
I had met Miss Griffinsf, and I now determined to
meet her oftener. After a few weeks in New Haven
I proceeded to Buffalo; and thence, after a time, to
the White mountains, whither Miss Griffing had
migrated for the summer.

Immediately after our marriage we went to New
York, Philadelphia, and Washington. My newly
wedded pleasure did not, however, render me obliv-
ious to my historical aims. In New York I called
on General and Mrs Fremont. They were exceed-
ingly gracious, realizing fully the importance of the
work which I was doing, wished particularly to be
placed right in history, where they had always been
under a cloud, they said, and promised their imme-
diate and hearty cooperation; all of which was idle
wind. Why cannot the soi-disant great and good
always shame the devil?

I found Mrs Fremont a large, fine appearing, gray-
haired woman of sixty, perhaps, very animated and
shrewdly talkative, thoroughly engrossed in her hus-

SUNDRY VISITS. 4G1

band's schemes, assisting him now, as she has done for
twenty years, by planning and writing for him. The
general appeared about sixty-five, slightly built, with
closely trimmed gray hair and beard.

From New York we went to Washington, and
saw Major and Mrs Powell, George Bancroft, Judge
Field, Mr SpofForcl, and many others. After a day at
Mount Vernon we returned to Baltimore, there to
meet President Gilman, Brantz Mayer, and other
friends. Thouofh both of us had seen the exhibition,
as we supposed, we could not pass it by upon the
j)resent occasion, and accordingly spent a week in
Philadelphia.

With new interest Mrs Bancroft now regarded
everything pertaining to the Pacific coast. " The
Indian trappings in the government building," she
writes in her journal begun at this time, "the photo-
graphs of the Mound-builders and the Cave-dwellers,
the stone utensils and curiously decorated pottery of
the Pueblos, the glass photographs of views in Col-
orado and Arizona, so vividly displaying, with its
wild fascinations, the scenery of the west, all seemed
suddenly clothed in new charms."

I had long desired a dictation from John A. Sutter.
Indeed, I regarded the information which he alone
could give as absolutely essential to my histor}^, the
first, as he was, to settle in the valley of the Sacra-
mento, so near the spot where gold was first discov-
ered, and so prominent in those parts during the
whole period of the Californian Inferno. I knew that
he was somewhere in that vicinity, but I did not
know where. I telegraphed to San Francisco for
his address, and received in reply, * Sitig, Lancaster
county, Pennsylvania.' After some search I found the
^ Sitig' to mean Litiz, and immediately telegraphed
both the operator and the postmaster. In due time
answer came that General Sutter resided there, and
was at home.

Leaving Philadelphia in the morning, and passing

4G2 HOME.

up the beautiful valley of the Schuylkill, we reached
our destination about noon. Why this bold Swiss,
who for a dozen years or more was little less than
king among the natives of the Sierra foothills, where
had been enacted the mad doings of the gold-seekers,
why he should leave this land of sunshine, even
thousfh he had been unfortunate, and hide himself in
a dismal Dutch town, was a mystery to me. Accident
seemed to have ruled him in it; accident directed
him thither to a Moravian school, as suitable in which
to place a granddaughter. This step led to the build-
ing of a house, and there he at this time intended to
end his days. Well, no doubt heaven is as near Litiz
as California; but sure I am, the departure thence
is not so pleasant.

At the Litiz Springs hotel, directly opposite to
w^hich stood General Sutter's two-story brick house,
\YQ were told that the old gentleman was ill, unable
to receive visitors, and that it would be useless to
attempt to see him. There was one man, the barber,
who went every day to shave the general, who could
gain me audience, if such a thing were possible. I
declined wdth thanks his distinguished services, and
ordered dinner.

" I will go over and see his wife, at all events," I
said to the clerk.

" That will avail you nothing," was the reply; *' she
is as deaf as an adder."

"Who else is there in the family?"

''A granddaughter."

That was sufficient. I did not propose to lose my
journey to Litiz, and what was more, this probably
my last opportunity for securing this important dicta-
tion. I was determined to see the general, if indeed he
yet breathed, and ascertain for myself how ill he w^as.

After knocking loudly at the portal three several
times, the door was slowly, silently opened a little
way, and the head of an old woman appeared at the
aperture.

STORMING SUTTER FORT. 463

*^Is this Mrs Sutter?" I asked.

No response.

"May I speak with you a moment in the hall?"

Still no response, and no encouragement for me to
enter. There she stood, the guardian of, apparently,
as impregnable a fortress as ever was Fort Sutter in
its palmiest days. I must gain admission; retreat
now might be fatal. Stepping toward the small
opening as if there was no obstacle whatever to
my entering, and as the door swung back a little at
my approach, I slipped into the hall.

Once within, no ogress was there. Mrs Sutter was
a tall, thin, intellioent Swiss, plainly dressed, and
having a shawl thrown over her shoulders. Her
English was scarcely intelligible, but she easily un-
derstood me, and her deafness was not at all trouble-
some.

Handing her my card, I asked to see General
Sutter. "I know he is ill," said I, ''but I must see
him." Taking the card, she showed me into a back
parlor and then withdrew. From Mrs Sutter's man-
ner, no less than from wdiat had been told me at the
hotel, I was extremely fearful that I had come too
late, and that all of history that house contained was
in the fevered brain of a dying man.

But presently, to my great astonishment and delight,
the door opened, and the general himself entered at
a brisk pace. He appeared neither very old nor very
feeble. The chance for a history of Sutter Fort was
improving. He was rather below medium height,
and stout. His step was still firm, his bearing sol-
dierly, and in his younger days he must have been a
man of much endurance, with a. remarkably fine phy-
sique. His features Avere of the German cast, broad,
full face, fairly intellectual forehead, with white hair,
bald on the top of the head, white side whiskers,
mustache, and imperial; a deep, clear, earnest eye
met yours truthfully. Seventy-five years, apparently,
sat upon him not heavily. He was suffering severely

464 HOME.

from rheumatism, and he used a cane to assist him in
walking about the house. He comj^lained of failing
memory, but I saw no indication of it in the five daj-s'
dictating v/hich followed.

No one could be in General Sutter's presence long
without feeling satisfied that if not of the shrewdest
he was an inborn gentleman. He had more the man-
ners of a courtier than those of a backwoodsman,
with this difference : his speech and bearing were the
promptings of a kind heart, unaffected and sincere.
He received me courteously, and listened with deep
attention to my plan for a history of the Pacific
States as I laid it before him, perceiving at once the
difference between my work and that of local histo-
rians and newspaper reporters, by whom all the latter
part of his life he had been besieged.

'' I have been robbed and ruined," he exclaimed,
'^by lawyers and politicians. When gold was discov-
ered I had my fortress, my mills, my farms, leagues of
land, thousands of cattle and horses, and a thousand
tamed natives at my bidding. Where are they now?
Stolen! My men were crushed by the iron heel of
civilization; my cattle were driven off by hungry
gold-seekers; my fort and mills were deserted and
left to decay; my lands were squatted on by overland
emigrants; and finally I was cheated out of all my
property. All Sacramento was once mine."

^' General," said I, "this appears to have been the
common fate of those who owned vast estates at the
coming of the Americans. It was partly owing to
the business inexperience of the holders of land grants,
though this surely cannot apply to yourself, and partly
to the unprincipled tricksters who came hither to
practise in courts of law. The past is past. One
thing yet remains for you to do, which is to see
your wonderful experiences properly placed on record
for the benefit of posterity. You fill an important
niche in the history of the western coast. Of certain
events you are the embodiment — the living, walking

SAN FRANCISCO AGAIN. 465

history of a certain time and locality. Often in my
labors I have encountered your name, your deeds ; and
let me say that I have never yet heard the former
mentioned but in kindness, nor the latter except in
praise."

Tears came to the old man's eyes, and his utterance
was choked, as he signified his willingness to relate
to me all he knew.

" You arrived," said he, " at a most opportune mo-
ment; I am but just out of bed, and I feel I shall be
down again in a few days, when it will be impossible
for me to see or converse with any one."

I said I had come to Litiz on this special business,
and asked how much time he could devote to it each

*'A11 the time," he replied, ''if you will conform to
my hours. Come as early as you like in the morning,
but we must rest at six o'clock. I retire early."

Ten hours a day for the next five days resulted in
two hundred pages of manuscript, which was subse-
quently bound and placed in the library. Forty
pages a day kept me very busy, and at night I
was tired enough. Meanwhile my devoted bride sat
patiently by, sometimes sewing, always lending an
attentive ear, with occasional questions addressed to
the general.

Thence we proceeded to New Haven, and shortly
afterward to San Francisco, stopping at Stockbridge,
Buffalo, Granville, Chicago, and Omaha, at all of
which places we had friends to visit, before settling
finally to work again.

With kind and womanly philosophy Mrs Bancroft
on reaching San Francisco did not look about her
with that captious criticism so common among newly
made Californian wives, to see if she did not dislike
the country. There were some things about the city
unique and interesting; others struck her strangely,
and some disagreeably. But it seemed never to occur
to her to be dissatisfied or homesick. When she

Lit. Ind. 30

466 HOME.

married a man — -so the ghost of the idea must have
danced round her heart and brain, for I am sure the
thought never assumed tangible form — when she mar-
ried a man, she married him, and there was the end
of it, so far as shipping her happiness upon the ac-
cidents of his surroundings was concerned. Sweet
subtilties I Happier would be the world if there were
more of them.

The Palace hotel for a short time was as curious
as a menagerie; then it became as distasteful as a
prison. We had many pleasant little dinner parties
the winter we were there, made up of widely different
characters. First there were our nearest and dearest
friends, those who had always been to me more
than relatives. Then there were the intellectu-
ally social; and a third class w^ere Spanish- speaking
Calif ornians and Mexicans, among whom were Pio
Pico, General Yallejo, Governor Alvarado, Governor
Pacheco,and the Mexican refugees, President Iglesias,
and Seiiores Prieto and Palacio of his cabinet. Mrs
Bancroft began the study of Spanish, and made rapid
progress; Kate was already quite at home in that
lanofua^ife.

It was no part of our plan immediately to domicile
ourselves in any fixed residence. Change seemed
necessary to my brain, strained as it was to its utmost
tension perpetually. It was about the only rest it
would take. What is commonly called pleasure was
not pleasure so long as there was so much work piled
up behind it. It must shift position occasionally, and
feed upon new surroundings, or it became restless
and unhealthy. Then we had before us much trav-
elling. The vast territory whose history I was writing
must be visited in its several parts, some of them
many times. There was the great Northwest Coast
to be seen, Oregon, Washington, and British Co-
lumbia; there was Utah, New Mexico, and Arizona;
likewise the sunny south, southern California, Mex-
ico, and Central America. Besides, there was much

REST AT LAST. 467

searching of archives in Europe yet to be done. So
we must content ourselves for the present in making
the world our home, any part of it in which night
happened to overtake us. Nevertheless, after a year
in Oakland, and a winter spent by Mrs Bancroft at
New Haven, I purchased a residence on Van Ness
avenue, where for many long and busy years echoed
the voices of little ones, watched over by a contented
mother, whose happy heart was that heavenly sun-
shine which best pleaseth God. This was indeed
Home.

CHAPTER XX.

SAN FRANCISCO ARCHIVES.

There are some who think that the brooding patience which a great
work calls for belonged exclusively to an earlier period than ours.

Lowell.

During the first ten years of these Ingatherings and
Industries a dark cloud of discouragement hung over
my efforts, in the form of four or five hundred vol-
umes, with from seven hundred to nineteen hundred
pages each, of original documents, lodged in the office
of the United States surveyor-general in San Fran-
cisco. Though containing much on mission affairs,
they constituted the regular archives of the secular
government from the earliest period of Californian
history. They were nearly all in Spanish, many of
them in very bad Spanish, poorly written, and diffi-
cult of deciphering.

On the secularization of the missions, that is to
say the removal of national property from missionary
control, in many instances the ruin and consequent
breaking up of mission establishments in California,
some few loose papers found their way to the college
of San Fernando, in Mexico, which was the parent
institution. The clergy still held the mission church
buildings, and in some instances the out-houses and
orchards; and the mission books, proper, remained
naturally in their control. There were likewise left
at some of the missions bundles of papers, notably at
Santa Bdrbara ; but these, though of the greatest im-
portance, were not very bulky in comparison to the
secular archives.

(468)

THE SUIlVEYOR.GENERAL'S OFFICE. 469

More to be considered by the historian were the
records and documents of the several raunicipaUties
along the southern seaboard, which with the papers
kept by retired officials, and those treasured by the
old and prominent families, formed a very important
element in the marshalled testimony. Thus matters
stood when California was made a state of the great
American confederation; and when counties were
formed by act of legislature of 1850, the correspond-
ence, papers, and records of local officials under Mexi-
can rule, alcaldes, jueces de pn*;ne?x6 instancia, and
others, were ordered deposited with the clerk of each
county.

The United States government took possession in
184G-7 of all the territorial records that could be
found — an immense mass, though by no means all that
existed — and in 1851 the public archives in all parts
of California were called in and placed in charge of
the United States surveyor-general in San Fran-
cisco, and of them Mr R. C. Hopkins was made
custodian. Such of the pueblo and prcsidial archives
as were deemed of importance to the general govern-
ment were held in San Francisco. Many, however,
of great historic value were never removed from their
original lodgments, and many others were returned
to them, for of such material much was found by my
searchers in various places at different times. As
these archives finally stood they consisted of the official
correspondence of the superior and other authorities,
civil and financial, military and ecclesiastic, of Mexico
and the Californias, from the formation of the first
mission in 17G9, and even a little further back, to the
time California was admitted into the union; not
complete, but full during parts of the time and meagre
in other parts. As will be seen I was so fortunate as
to obtain the missing records from other sources.

When E. M. Stanton came with power from Wash-
ington to attend to land and other affairs of the gov-
ernment, he ordered these archives bound. Although

470 SAN FRANCISCO ARCHIVES.

some divisions of the papers were made, little atten-
tion was paid to chronological or other arrangement.
Said Mr Savage to me after a preliminary examina-
tion: ''The whole thing is a jmnble; so far as their
value to your work is concerned, or your being able
to find, by searching, any particular incident of any
particular period, the papers might as well be in hay-
stack form."

What was to be done ? The thought of attacking
this great dragon of these investigations had been for
many years in my mind as a nightmare, and while
doggedly pursuing more puny efforts I tried to shake
it from me, and not think of it. There was much
material aside from that, more than enough for my
purpose, perhaps ; besides, some one could go through
the mass and take from it what I lacked in the usual
form of historical notes.

But such reasoning would not do. The monster
would not thus be frightened away. All the time, to
be honest with myself, I well knew that I must have
before me all existing material that could be obtained,
and I well knew what 'going through' such a stack
of papers signified. No; one of the chief difierences
between my way and that of others in gathering and
arranging facts for history, one of the chief differences
between the old method and the new, was, in so far
as possible, to have all my material together, within
instant and constant reach, so that I could place before
me on my table the information lodged in the British
Museum beside that contained in the archives of
Mexico, and compare both with what Spain and Cali-
fornia could yield, and not be obliged in the midst of
my investigations to go from one library to another
note-taking.

And under this method, so far as my daily and
hourly necessities were concerned, this immense mass
of information might almost as well be in Nova
Scotia as on Pine street. To be of use to me it must
be in my hbrary. This was the basis on which my

ABSTRACT OF THE ARCHIVES. 471

work was laid out, and only by adhering to this plan
could it be accomplished.

But how get it there ? The government would not
lend it me, though our benign uncle has committed
more foolish acts. There was but one way, the way
pursued in smaller operations — copy it. But what did
that mean, to ' copy it ' ? The day in government offices
is short ; a copyist might return from twenty to forty
folios per diem; this, averaged, would amount to per-
haps three volumes a year, which would be a hundred
years' work for one person; and this merely to trans-
fer the material to my library, where another centur}^
of work would be required before it attained the
proper form as condensed and classified material for
history.

Well, then, if the task would occupy one person so
long, put on it ten or twenty — this is the way my
demon talked to me. But the surveyor's office would
not accommodate so many. Not to dwell upon the
subject, however, the matter was thus accomplished:
A room was rented near the surveyor-general's office,
to which Mr H. G. Bollins, then in charge, had kindly
granted permission to have the bound volumes taken
as required by the copyists. Tables and chairs were
then purchased, and the needed writing-materials sent
round. Then by a system of condensation and epito-
mizing, now so thoroughly understood that no time
or labor need be lost, under the efficient direction of
Mr Savage fifteen Spaniards were able in one year to
transfer from these archives to the library all that
was necessary for my purpose. This transfer was not
made in the form of notes; the work was an abridg-
ment of the archives, which would be of immense
public value in case of loss by fire of the original doc-
uments. The title of every paper was given; the
more important documents were copied in full, while
the others were given in substance only. The worlv
was begun the 15th of May 1876. The expense was
about eighteen thousand dollars; and when in the

472 SAN FEANCISCO ARCHIVES.

form of bound volumes these archives stood on the
shelves of the library, we were just ready to begin
extracting historical notes from them in the usual
way.

This transcribing of the archives in the United
States surveyor -general's office was the greatest
single effort of the kind ever made by me. But there
were many lesser labors in the same direction, both
before and afterward; prominent among these was
the epitomizing of the archiepiscopal archives.

Learning from Doctor Taylor of Santa Bdrbara
that he had presented the most reverend Joseph S.
Alemany, archbishop of San Francisco, for the cath-
olic church, with a quantity of valuable papers, I
applied to the archbishop for permission to copy them.
He did not feel at liberty to let the volumes out of
his possession. ^' I shall be most happy, however," he
writes me, " to afford every facility to any gentleman
you may choose to send to my humble house to copy
from any volume any pieces which may suit your
work, taking it for granted that in your kindness
you will let me see before publication what is written
on religious matters, lest unintentionally something
might be stated inaccurately, which no doubt you
would rectify." It is needless to say that neither
to the archbishop, nor to any person, living or dead,
did I ever grant permission to revise or change my
writings. It was my great consolation and chief
support throughout my long and arduous career, that
I was absolutely free, that I belonged to no sect or
party to which I must render account for any expres-
sion, or to whose traditions my opinions must bow.
Sooner than so hamper myself, I would have consigned
my library and my labors to perdition.

It appeared to me a kind of compact, this insinua-
tion of the archbishop, that if he granted me per-
mission to copy documents which were the property
of the church, they should not be used in evidence

THE ARCHIEPISCOPAL ARCHIVES. 473

against the church. Now with the church I have not
at any time had controversy. Theology was not my
theme. I never could treat of theology as it is done
ordinarily in pulpits, walled about by dogmas, and be
compelled to utter other men's beliefs whether they
were my own or not. I should have no pleasure in
speaking or writing thus; nor is there any power on
earth which would compel me to it.

With the doctrines of the church, catholic or prot-
estant, I had nothing to do. With the doctrines of
political parties as such, I had nothing to do. It was
in men, rather than in abstract opinion, that I dealt.
Because a man was priest or partisan, he was not
necessarily from that fact good or bad. In so far
as the missionaries did well, no churchman was
more ready to praise; wherein they did evil, my
mouth should speak it, myself being judge. But all
this did not lessen my obligation to the good arch-
bishop, who was ever most kind and liberal toward
me, and whose kindness and liberality I trust I have
not abused.

The documents in question formed five books, bound
into several more volumes. They consisted mostly
of correspondence by the missionaries of upper and
lower California among themselves, or with the author-
ities, both civil and military, in Mexico or the Cali-
fornias, or from their college of San Fernando; and
also of statistical data on the missions, a large portion
of the letters and statistics being of great historical
importance.

Mr Savage with three copyists performed this
labor in about a month.

Whilst the work of abstracting was going on, the
men received occasional visits from attaches of the
ecclesiastical offices in the mansion, which at first gave
rise to a suspicion in the mind of Mr Savage that
he was watched. But nothing occurred to make
his stay disagreeable. Some inconvenience was felt
by t]ie copyists from the prohibition by Mr Savage

474 SAN FRANCISCO ARCHIVES.

against smoking in the premises. There had been no
objection raised in the house against the practice;
but he deemed such abstention a mark of respect to
the archbishop even though he was absent a fort-
night. On the archbishop's return he occasionally
entered the room for some document from his desk,
and ever had a kind word for those who occupied it.
The result of this work, which was concluded early
in May 1876, just before beginning on the United
States surveyor -general's archives, may be seen in
the Bancroft Library, in three books, entitled Archivo
del Arzohispado — Cartas de los Misioneros de Call-
for Ilia, i. ii. iii.^ iii.^ iv.-^ iv.^ v.

Writing of California material for history in the
public journals of August 1877, Mr Oak observes:
^^ First in importance among the sources of informa-
tion are the public archives, preserved in the different
offices, of nation, state, county, and city, at San Fran-
cisco, Sacramento, San Jose, Salinas, Los Angeles,
San Diego, and to a slight extent in other towns.
These constitute something over 500 bulky tomes,
besides loose papers, in the aggregate not less than
300,000 documents. Of the nature of these manu-
scripts it is impossible within present limits to say
more than that they are the original orders, corre-
spondence, and act-records of the authorities — secular
and ecclesiastical, national, provincial, departmental,
territorial, and municipal — during the successive rule,
imperial and republican, of Spain, Mexico, and the
United States, from 1768 to 1850. After the latter
date there is little in the archives of historic value
which has not found its way into print. A small part
of these papers are arranged by systems which vary
from tolerable to very bad; the greater part being
thrown together with a sublime disregard to both
subject and chronology. Of their value there is no
need to speak, since it is apparent that Californian
history cannot be written without their aid. They
are, however, practically inaccessible to writers. In

THE LAWYERS AND THE FRIARS. 475

land -commission times the lawyers sought diligently
for information of a certain class, and left many guid-
ing references, which the student may find, if patient
and long-lived, in countless legal briefs and judicial
decisions. The keepers of the archives, besides aiding
the legal fraternity, have from time to time unearthed
for the benefit of the public certain documentary curi-
osities; yet the archives as a whole remain an unex-
plored and, by ordinary methods, unexplorable waste.
Mr Bancroft has not attempted, by needle-in-the-
hay-mow methods, to search the archives for data on
particular points ; but by employing a large auxiliary
force he has substantially transferred their contents to
the library. Every single paper of all the 300,000,
whatever its nature or value, has been read — de-
ciphered would in many cases be a better term;
important papers have been copied; less important
documents have been stripped of their Spanish ver-
biage, the substance being retained, while routine
communications of no apparent value have been dis-
missed with a mere mention of their nature and date.

'' Hardly less important, though much less bulky
than the secular records above referred to, are the
records of the friars in the mission archives. At most
of these establishments — wrecks of former Fran-
ciscan prosperity — there remain in care of the parish
priests only the quaint old leather-bound records of
births, marriages, deaths, etc. At some of the ex-
missions even these records have disappeared, having
been destroyed or passed into private hands. It was
common opinion that the papers of the missionary
padres had been destroyed, or sent to Mexico and
Spain. Another theory was that of men who myste-
riously hinted at immense deposits of docitmentos at
the old missions, jealously guarded from secular eyes
and hands.

" Both views are absurdly exaggerated. The mis-
sion archives were never very bulky, and are still
comparatively complete. The largest collections are

476 SAN FRANCISCO ARCHIVES.

in the possession of the Franciscan order, and of
the archbishop of California. Other small collections
exist at different places, and not a few papers have
passed into private keeping. The archives of Spain
and Mexico must be ransacked, but the documents
thus brought to light can neither be so many nor so
important as has popularly been imagined.

''Not all the records of early California, by any
means, are to be found in the public offices. Even
official documents were widely scattered during the
American conquest or before; the new officials col-
lected and preserved all they could gain possession of,
but many were left in private hands, and have re-
mained there. The private correspondence of promi-
nent men on public events is, moreover, quite as
valuable a source of information as their official com-
munications. Mr Bancroft has made an earnest effort
to gather, preserve, and utilize these private and family
archives. There were many obstacles to be overcome;
Californians, not ahvays without reason, were distrust-
ful of Gringo schemes; old papeles that had so long
furnished material for cigaritos, suddenly acquired
a great pecuniary value; interested persons, in some
cases by misrepresentation, induced well disposed na-
tives to act against their inclinations and interests.
Yet efforts in this direction have not been wasted,
since they have already produced about seventy-five
volumes, containing at least twenty thousand docu-
ments, a very large proportion of w^hich are impor-
tant and unique.

" I have not included in the preceding class some
fifty volumes of old military and commercial records,
which are by no means devoid of interest and value,
though of such a nature that it would be hardly fair
to add them by the page, without explanation, to the
above mentioned documents. It must not be under-
stood that these contributed collections of original
papers are exclusively Spanish; on the contrary, many
of the volumes relate to the conquest, or to the period

MEMOIRS OF PIONEERS. 477

immediately preceding or following, and bear the
names of pioneers in whose veins flows no drop of
Latin blood — for instance, the official and private
correspondence of Thomas O. Larkin, in twelve thick
volumes.

"California is a new country; her annals date back
but little more than a century; most of her sister
states are still younger; therefore personal reminis-
cences of men and women yet living form an element
by no means to be disregarded by the historian.
While I am writincy there are to be found — thouofh
year by year death is reducing their number — men
of good intelligence and memory who have seen Cali-
fornia pass from Spain to Mexico, and from Mexico
to the United States. Many of this class will leave
manuscript histories which will be found only in the
Bancroft Library.

"The personal memoirs of pioneers not native to
the soil are not regarded as in any respect less de-
sirable than those of liijos del pais, although their
acts and the events of their time are much more fully
recorded in print. Hundreds of pioneer sketches are
to be found in book and pamphlet, and especially in
the newspaper; yet great efforts are made to obtain
original statements. Some hold back because it is
difficult to convince them that the history of Cali-
fornia is being written on a scale which will make
their personal knowledge and experience available
and valuable. Others exhibit an indolence and indif-
ference in the matter impossible to overcome."

CHAPTER XXL

HISTORIC RESEARCHES IN THE SOUTH.

Every man must work according to his own method.

Agassiz.

Southern California was rightly regarded as the
depository of the richest historic material north of
Mexico. And the reason was obvious: In settlement
and civilization that region had the start of Oregon
by a half century and more; there were old men
there, and family and public archives. The chief
historic adventure in that quarter was when, with Mr
Oak and my daughter Kate, early in 1874 I took
the steamer for San Diego and returned to San Fran-
cisco by land.

Indeed, as I became older in the work I felt more
and more satisfied that it required of me, both in
person and by proxy, much travel. True, mine was
neither a small field, nor a narrow epoch highly elab-
orated, upon the many several scenes of which, like
Froude at Simancas, Freeman on his battle-fields, or
Macaulay in Devonshire, Londonderry, or Scotland,
I might spend months or seasons studying the ground
and elucidating the finer points of prospect and posi-
tion; yet where so much was to be described much
observation was necessary.

It was during this journey south that Benjamin
Hayes, formerly district judge at Los Angeles, later a
resident of San Diego, and for twenty-five years an en-
thusiastic collector and preserver of historic data, not
only placed me in possession of all his collection, but

(478)

THE HAYES COLLECTION. 479

gave me his heart with it, and continued to interest
himself in my work as if it were his own, and to add
to his collection while in my possession as if it was
still in his. This was fortunate, for I saw much work
to be done at Los Angeles, Santa Barbara, and else-
where, and I hardly knew how to perform it.

Of course to me it seemed as if Judge Hayes
during his life performed for his country, for the
world, for posterity, a work beside which sitting upon
a judicial bench and deciding cases was no more than
catching flies. For the first quarter-century of this
country's history under American rule, beginning with
a journal kept while crossing the continent in 1849,
he had been a diligent collector of documents touch-
ing the history of southern California; and his collec-
tion of manuscripts, and especially of scraps from books
and early newspapers, systematically arranged, and ac-
companied frequently by manuscript notes of his own
making, was very extensive. It embraced among the
manuscript portion a copy of the mission book of San
Diego; a copy of an autograph manuscript of Father
Junipero Serra, giving a history of the missions up to
1775; a similar manuscript history by Father Lasuen
of the mission up to 1784; copies of all the more im-
portant documents of the pueblo archives from 1829;
a complete index made by himself in 1856 of all the
early archives; manuscript accounts of Judge Hayes'
own travels in various parts of the southern country;
reports of evidence in important law cases, illustrating
history, and many other like papers. There were some
fifty or sixty scrap-books, besides bundles of assorted
and unassorted scraps, all stowed in trunks, cupboards,
and standing on book-shelves. The collection was
formed with a view of writing a history of southern
California, but by this time the purpose on the part of
Judge Hayes was well nigh impracticable by reason
of age and ill-health.

The pueblo archives which have been preserved do
not extend back further than 1829. They consist

480 HISTORIC RESEARCHES IN THE SOUIH.

of more or less complete records of the proceedings of
military comandantes, alcaldes, ayuntamientos, pre-
fectos, and jueces de paz, together with correspondence
between the several town officials, between the officials
of this and other towns, and correspondence with the
home government of Spain or Mexico, being the origi-
nals of letters received and copies of those sent. They
include some flaming proclamations by Californian
governors, and interesting correspondence relative to
the times when American encroachments had begun.
Documents referring to the mission are few and brief,
and consist of correspondence between the secular and
ecclesiastical authorities respecting the capture of es-
caped native converts. There are yet preserved, how-
ever, documents relating to the missions while in the
hands of administrators subsequent to their secular-
ization. There are several interesting reports of civil
and criminal trials, illustrating the system of juris-
prudence during the early times.

These papers were preserved in the county archives,
in the clerk's office, in bundles, as classified by Judge
Hayes. Copies of all these documents in any wise
important for historical purposes formed part of Judge
Hayes' collection.

Every mission, besides its books of accounts, its
papers filed in packages, and any historical or statis-
tical records which the priests might choose to write,
kept what were called the mission books, consisting
of records of conversions, marriages, baptisms, con-
firmations, and burials. By a revolt of the natives
in 1775 San Diego mission, with all its records, was
destroyed. In opening new mission books, with his
own hands Father Junipero Serra wrote on the first
pages of one of them an historical sketch of the mis-
sion from 1769, the date of its establishment, to 1775,
the date of its destruction. He also restored, so far
as possible from memory, the list of marriages and
deaths. The mission book thus prefaced by the presi-
dent is preserved by the curate at San Diego.

BENJAMIN HAYES. 481

The question now was how to transfer this rich
mass of historical material to my Hbrary, where, not-
withstanding the affection with which he who had
labored over the work so long must regard it, I could
easily persuade myself was the proper place for it.
Calling at the house, we fortunately found Judge
Hayes at home, and were warmly welcomed. I had
often met him in San Francisco, and he was familiar
with my literary doings. This call we made a short
one, arranging for a longer meeting in the afternoon.

Back from our luncheon, we were again heartily
welcomed, and taking our note-books we were soon
vigorously at work endeavoring to transfix some small
portion of the vast fund of information that fell
glibly from the lips of the ancient. Fortunately for
us, old men love to talk about themselves; so that
while we were noting valuable facts he kindly filled
the interludes with irrelevant matter, thus keeping us
pretty well together.

In this way we gathered some important incidents
relative to early establishments and their records, but
soon became dissatisfied with the slowness of the
method, for at that rate we could easily spend months
there, and years upon our journey back to San Fran-
cisco. Finally I approached the subject nearest my
heart.

"Judge," said I, "your collection should be in my
Hbrary. There it would be of some value, of very
great value; but isolated, even should 3^ou write your
proposed history, the results, I fear, would be unsatis-
factory to you. I should not know where to begin or
to end such a work."

"I am satisfied I shall never write a history,"
he replied somewhat sadly. "The time has slipped
away, and I am now too feeble for steady laborious
application; besides, I have to furnish bread for cer-
tain mouths," pointing to a bright black-eyed little
girl who kept up an incessant clatter with her com-
panions at the door.

Lit. Ind. 31

482 HISTORIC RESEARCHES IN THE SOUTH.

^'Not only should I have the results of your labor
up to this time," I now remarked, "but your active
aid and cooperation for the future. It is just such
knowledge as yours that I am attempting to save and
utilize. Second my efforts, and let me be your his-
torian and biographer."

'' I know that my material should be added to yours,"
he replied. "It is the only proper place for it — the
only place I should be content to see it out of my
own possession. I would gladly give it you, did not
I need money so badly. It is not pleasing to me to
make merchandise of such labors."

"I do not ask you to give me your collection," I
returned; " I will gladly pay you for it, and still hold
myself your debtor to the same extent as if you gave
it. I appreciate your feelings fully, and will endeavor
to do in every respect now and in the future as I
should wish you to do were our positions changed."

" It may seem a trifle to give up my accumulations
for money, but it is not. It is the delivering, still-
born, of my last and largest hope. Yet it will be some
satisfaction to feel that they are in good hands, where
their value will be reckoned in other measurement
than that of dollars. I cannot die and leave them to
be scattered here. You may have them; and with
them take all that I can do for your laborious under-
taking as long as I live."

And he was as good as his word. We did not stop
long to consider the price I should pay him; and
immediately the bargain was consummated we went
to work, and took a careful account of every volume,
and every package of documents, noting their con-
tents. Those that were complete we packed in boxes
and shipped to San Francisco; such as Judge Hayes
had intended to make additions to were left with him.
The volumes to be completed and sent in due time
made their appearance. "Judge Hayes' books, sent
up yesterday," writes Mr Oak the 15th of May 1875,
*' are in some respects more valuable than anything

SAN DIEGO ARCHIVES. 483

he has done before. One volume contains about two
hundred photographs of places and men in southern
California." All unfinished work was well and thor-
oughly completed, he doing more in every instance
than he had promised to do; and when in 1877 he died,
he was still engaged in making historical abstracts
for me from the county records of Los Angeles.
When there shall appear upon Californian soil a race
capable of appreciating such devotion, then will the
name of Benjamin Hayes be honored.

It was the 23d of February that this important
purchase was consummated. San Diego possessed
few further attractions for me in the line of literary
acquisitions; that is to say, this collection, with so
important a man as Judge Hayes enlisted in my
behalf, was a sweeping accomplishment, which would
ampl}^ reward me for the time and money expended in
the entire excursion should nothing more come of it.
For this collection was by far the most important in
the state outside of my own; and this, added to mine,
would forever place my library, so far as competition
in original California material was concerned, beyond
the possibilities. The books, packages, list of copies
of the county archives, and manuscripts, as we packed
them for shipment, numbered three hundred and
seventy-seven; though from number little idea can be
formed of value, as, for example, a volume labelled
Private Hours, consisting chiefly of manuscripts con-
taining Judge Hayes' notes of travel over the state
at different times, written by one thoroughly familiar
with public and private affairs, by one who saw far
into things, and who at the time himself contemplated
history-writing, might be worth a hundred other
volumes.

Of all the mission archives none were of more
importance than those of San Diego, this being the
initial point of early Alta California observation.
Besides historical proclivities. Judge Hayes loved
science. He had taken meteorological observations

484 HISTORIC RESEARCHES IX THE SOUTH.

since 1850, and took an interest in the botany of the
country. In all these thini^s he not only collected
and arranofed, but he diofested and wrote.

Several days were occupied m this negotiation, in
studying the contents and character of the purchase,
and in sending over boxes from New Town, and pack-
ing and shipping them. It was a hard day's work,
besrinnino: at seven o'clock, and durino* which we did
not stop to eat, to catalogue and pack the collec-
tion. Taking up one after another of his companion-
creations, fondly the little old man handled them;
affectionately he told their history. Every paper,
every page, was to him a hundred memories of a
hundred breathing realities. These were not to him
dead facts; they were, indeed, his life.

When we began we thought to finish in a few hours,
but the obsequies of this collection were not to be so
hurriedly performed; surely a volume which had cost
a year's labor was worthy a priestly or paternal bene-
diction on taking its final departure.

During these days at San Diego I visited and ex-
amined everything of possible historic interest. I
wandered about the hills overlooking the numerous
town sites, crossed to False bay, entered the ceme-
tery, and copied the inscriptions on the stones that
marked the resting-place of the more honored dead.
In company with Mr Oak I called at the county
clerk's office to see what documents were there.
No one seemed to know anything about them. Such
as were there were scattered loosely in boxes and
drawers, some at New Town, and some at Old
Town. When we learned in what sad confusion
they were, we were all the more thankful we had
copies of them. Judge Hayes began copying these
archives in 1856.

At night we entered in our journals, of which Mr
Oak, Kate, and myself each kept one, the events of
the day. Oak and I each wrote about one hundred
and fifty pages during the trip, and Kate forty pages.

DEPARTURE FROM SAN DIEGO. 485

On our return to San Francisco these journals were
deposited in the Ubrary.

Early Wednesday morning we walked over to
Old Town to visit Father Ubach, the parish priest,
with whom we had an appointment. I was shown
the mission books, consisting of the Book of Bap-
tisms, in four volumes, the first volume having three
hundred and ninety-six folios and extending down to
1822. The other three volumes were not paged;
they continued the record to date. The Book of
Marriages was in one volume and complete to date.
Three volumes comprised the Book of Deaths, and
one volume the Book of Confirmations. Aside from
the sketch by Junipero Serra, a copy of which was in
the Hayes collection, the volumes were of no historic
value, being merely lists of names with dates.

Each year the bishop of the diocese had visited the
missions and certified to the correctness of the records ;
consequently the bishop's signature occurred in all
the books at regular intervals, and from which en-
tries many bishops might be named. It is worthy of
remark that in the mission books California is always
divided into Superior and Inferior, instead of Baja
and Alta as by later Spaniards. Father Ubach in-
formed us of a manuscript Indian vocabulary pre-
served at the mission of San Juan Bautista; also a
manuscript of his own on the natives of his parish,
of which there were then twelve hundred. This latter
manuscript was in the Hayes collection, and hence a
part of my purchase. Father Ubach kindly gave us
letters to the padres at San Juan Capistrano and San
Juan Bautista.

Departing from San Diego, we called at the mis-
sions and saw all the early residents possible, notably
Cave J. Coutts and John Foster, at their respective
ranches near San Luis Bey, from whom we received
encouragement and valuable information.

When the Reverend Thomas Frognall Dibdin was
at Havre on his bibliographical tour, he was told by

486 HISTORIC RESEARCHES IN THE SOUTH.

the booksellers among whose shops he hunted that
he should have been there when the allies first pos-
sessed themselves of Paris if he wished to find rarities.
Had he been there at the time named, another date
still further back would have been mentioned; and so
on until he had been sent back to the beginning.

"Who shall restore us the years of the past?" cried
Horace, and Yirgil, and Livy; cried the first of men,
and that before there was scarcely any past at all.
The Reverend Thomas Frognall Dibdin was not there,
and all the booksellers of France could not restore
the occasion, could not arrest the present or call up
the past. And I am of opinion that to the collector
of rarities there would have been little difference
whether he had lived or had been in any particular
place fifty or five hundred years ago. These Havre
booksellers seemed to have forgotten that at the time
what now are rarities were easily obtained ; they were
not rarities; that all which is rare with us was once
common, and that whatever is preserved of that
which to us is common will some day be rare and
expensive.

Thus it was with me at Los Angeles, Had I been
there at the coming of the Americans I might have
obtained documents by the bale, so I was told, and
have freighted a vessel with them. Had I even been
there ten years ago I might have secured no incon-
siderable quantity; but during this time many heads
of old families had died, and their papers, with the
long accumulations of rubbish, had been burned.

Most of this was fiction, or ignorant exaggeration.
At the time of the secularization there had accumu-
lated at the several missions the materials from which
might have been sifted not only their complete history,
but thousands of interesting incidents illustrative of
that peculiar phase of society. These once scattered
and destroyed, there never was any considerable
quantity elsewhere. Old Californian families were
not as a rule sufficiently intelligent to write or receive

AT LOS ANGELES. 48^

many important historical documents, or to discrimi-
nate and preserve writings valuable as historical
evidence.

Undoubtedly at the death of a paterfamilias, in some
instances, the survivors used the papers he had pre-
served in the kindling of fires, in the wrapping of
articles sent away, or in the making of cigarettes; but
that during the century of Spanish occupation in Cali-
fornia much historical material had accumulated any-
where except in government offices and at the missions
I do not believe. And furthermore, wherever it had
so happened that a few family papers had been pre-
served, upon any manifestation of interest in or effort
to obtain possession of them, their quantity and im-
portance were greatly magnified. In such cases three
documents filled a trunk, and a package a foot square
was enlarged by rumor to the size of a bedroom.

Charming Los Angeles! California's celestial city!
She of the angels I and, indeed, that very day we
found one, a dark-eyed, bediamonded angel, in the
shape of a sweet senora with a million of dollars and
a manuscript. Chubby as a cherub she was, and grace-
ful for one so short; and though her eyes were as
bright as her diamonds when first they encountered
yours, lingeringly they rested there until they faded
somewhat in dreamy languor. She was a poem of
pastoral California, and her life was a song of nature,
breathing of aromatic orange groves, of vine-clad hills,
and olive orchards, all under soft skies and amid
ocean-tempered airs. There was no indication in the
warm un wrinkled features of a mind strained by over-
study, such as is frequently seen in a Boston beauty.
As it was, suitors were thick enough; there were
plenty of men who would take her for a million of dol-
lars, to say nothing of the manuscript.

Aside from lack of intellect, for angels are not
specially intellectual, in all candor I must confess
that, apart from of her beautiful robes, for she was
elegantly dressed, her diamonds, her million of dol-

488 HISTORIC RESEAKCHES IN THE SOUTH.

lars, and her manuscript, somewhat of the angelic
charm would have been lost, for she was close upon
forty, and a widow. He who had been Abel Stearns
had called her wife, and Juan Bandini, daughter.

Not far from the Pico house, in a long low adobe
whose front door opened from a back piazza, dwelt
this lady, to whom Colonel Coutts had given me a
letter, with her mother Mrs Bandini. Immediately
after dinner we inquired our way to the house, and
presenting ourselves asked for Mrs Stearns. She
was not in: that is to say, the seraph was sleeping
for a pair of bright evening eyes. To the relict of
Juan Bandini we did not deign to make known our
errand. At seven our eyes should feast upon her of
the million and manuscript.

At seven; we were punctual. Radiant as Venus
she sat between her mother and a withered lover.
The ladies were both of them far too elegant to speak
English. We presented our letter, which was to make
our path to the papers easy. Ah! the manuscript of
her father'? It was her mother, Mrs Bandini, to whom
we should speak: all the documents of Don Juan
belonofed to her.

C5

This was a sad mistake; and wonderfully quick
with the intelligence shifted the seraphic halo from
the sparkling daughter- widow to the now exceedingly
interesting and attractive mother- widow. It was a
great waste, all the precious ointment of our elo-
quence poured upon the younger woman, while we
were almost ignoring the presence of the elder, until
she was made fascinating as the owner of an unpub-
lished history of California.

Yes, there was a trunkful of papers left by the
late lamented Avhich had never been disturbed, so
sighed the Senora Bandini. People said among them
w^as a partially written history; but further than this
she knew nothing of the contents of the trunk. The
letter of Colonel Coutts to Mrs Stearns, the reader
must know, strongly urged the placing of these doc-

THE BANDINI DOCUMENTS. 489

uments in my hands, as the most proper place for
them.

Mrs Bandini asked if I needed them soon. Yes ; I
always needed such things immediately. She could
not possibly touch the trunk until the return of her
son-in-law, Charles R. Johnson, who was then at
San Diego. He would not return for a fortnight,
and I could not wait. The old lady would not move
without him, and there I was obliged to leave it.

It was necessary I should have that material.
Bandini was a prominent and important citizen of
southern California, one of the few who united ability
and patriotism sufficient to write history. I saw by
this time that I should have more material on north-
ern than on southern California; that is to say, my
northern authorities would preponderate. I should
have at my command, as things were then going,
more narratives and individual histories written from
a northern than from a southern standpoint. And
this was worthy of serious consideration. For a long
time the north and the south were in a state of semi-
antagonism, and their respective statements would
read very differently. It was only by having several
accounts, written by persons belonging to either side,
that anything like the truth could be ascertained.

Obviously it would be very much as the son-in-law
should say. I was not acquainted with Johnson per-
sonally, but by inquiry I ascertained the names of
those who had influence with him, and these next day
I did not fail to see. There was then in Los Angeles
Alfred Bobinson, a resident of San Francisco, and an
author. He was intimate at the Stearns -Bandini
mansion, and might assist me. I spoke with him
upon the subject. I likewise saw Judge Sepulveda,
Governor Downey, Major Truman, and others, who
cordially promised their influence in my behalf Thus
for the present I was obliged to leave it. On my re-
turn to San Francisco I continued my efforts. I was
determined never to let the matter die. I appealed

490 HISTORIC RESEARCHES IN THE SOUTH.

again to Colonel Coutts, and to several Californians
of influence in various parts of the state. The result
was that about six months after my first attempt I
succeeded in placing the valuable documents of Gen-
eral Bandini, together with his manuscript history of
California, upon the shelves of my library, there to
remain. At the suggestion of Mr Robinson, who
brought the papers up from Los Angeles, I sent Mrs
Bandini a check; but to her credit be it said she re-
turned it to me, saying that she did not want money
for the material.

Andres Pico was our next essay; tliis was another
of the angels, but of a different sort. There were
several of these brothers Pico, all, for native Cali-
fornians, remarkably knowing. Whether they caught
their shrewdness from the Yankees I know not;
but during this visit experience told me certain
things of Don Andres which I was scarcely prepared
to learn, things which laid open in him the bad qual-
ities of all nationalities, but displayed the good ones
of none.

Shakespeare's conception of human nature was
probably correct, probably the purest inspiration of
any on record. With him there was no such thing as
absolute and complete wickedness in man. As Cole-
ridge says of him, ''All his villains were bad upon
good principles; even Caliban had something good in
him."

What Shakespeare would have done with Don
Andres I greatly wonder. We of this latter-day
enlightenment cannot afford to be less charitable than
Shakespeare; therefore we must conclude that Don
Andres was bad upon good principles. But whether
upon good or bad principles, or whether it was a daily
custom with him, we know that on this occasion he
practised on us peculiarly.

That it was neatly done I cannot deny: for an
ancient Californian very neatly; probably better than
one Yankee in ten thousand could have accomplished

CUNNING DON ANDRES ! 491

it, better than hollow-hearted French pohteness, Ger-
man stohdity, or Chinese legerdemain could have
achieved it. And this was the manner of it: His
home was the mission of San Fernando, some twenty
miles north-west of Los Angeles; but luckily, as we
thought, we found him in Los Angeles. Seeking him
out, I presented Colonel Coutts' letter. He received
it with most complacent reverence; and as he read it
I noted his appearance. His age I should say w^as
sixty-ii ve, or perhaps more ; he w^as well built, though
slightly bent, and over the loose russet skin of his
face the frost of a^^e Avas whitenins^ the coarse black
hair. His head was large and shaped for intellectual
strength; his eyes were as sly and crafty in appear-
ance as those of a Turkish porter, and about his mouth
played a smile no less insidious.

The letter read, it was devoutly folded and buttoned
in the pocket nearest the spot where should have been
the heart. All that was Don Andres' — his property,
his life, his soul — was his friend's and his friend's
friends'. All Los Angeles was ours to command.
Would we to San Fernando? he would accompany
us on the instant; and once there the secrets of the
century should be spread out before us!

Well, thought I, this surely is easy sailing. Hayes
and Bandini were tempestuous seas beside this placid
Pico ocean. When I hinted that such generosity was
beyond the limit of ordinary patriotism, and that the
modest merits of our cause hardly reconciled me to
the taxing of his time and patience so heavily, he
proudly straightened his large and well developed
form, and striking his breast upon the letter there de-
posited exclaimed, ''Talk not to me of trouble; this
makes service sacred 1"

Again thought I, how noble! One must come
south to see the Latin race of California in its true
light. But for the high and universal import of
my cause I should have hesitated before accepting
so serious obligation from a stranger; and I almost

492 HISTOmC RESEARCHES IN THE SOUTH.

looked for a tear to drop from the apjDarently moist-
ening eye upon the grizzled cheek, so full of feeling
was this man. It was arranged that Don Andres
should call for us at an early day and assist us in
searching the city for histoiic material, and that on
the morning of our departure he would accompany us
to San Fernando. After introducing me, at my re-
quest, to Senor Agustin Olvera, a learned ancient
whom I desired to see, Don Andres departed, bearing
with him the deepest thanks of a heart overflowing
with gratitude, and expressed in terms bordering on
Spanish extravagance.

At this thiie I will admit I was too innocent and
unsophisticated to cope with the sweet subtleties of
Spanish politeness. Dealing only in hard facts, with
only honest intent, I was not at all suspicious of per-
sons or protestations, and hence fell an easy victim.
Had I met Don Andres after my two visits to Mexico,
instead of before, he would not have misled me. As
it was, we had to thank him for a night of happy hopes,
even if they were all destined to be dissipated in the
morningf. I never saw Don Andres ag^ain. Thouo^h I
sought him diligently the day before our departure
from Los Angeles, and learned at his lodgings that he
had not left the city, and though I deposited there a
letter saying that I should hope to see him on the stage,
or at San Fernando the following day, he was nowhere
to be found. Cunning Don Andres ! It was the best
bit of California comedy we encountered on our
travels.

Pio Pico, ci-devant governor of California and a
resident of Los Angeles, was not in the city at the
time. Subsequently I obtained from him a history
of such affairs as came within his knowledge, of which
I shall speak again hereafter. Olvera professed to
have some documents; professed to be writing a
history of California; had long and earnestly sought
to obtain possession of Bandini's papers, and laughed
at our efforts in a direction where he had so often

LOS ANGELES ARCHIVES. 493

failed. During the short conversation we had with
Andres Pico, he informed us, as Father Ubach had
said, that he was the commissioner appointed in early
days to take charge of the mission records, and con-
sequently at one time had many of them in his
possession, including those of San Luis Rey; but
most of them had been scattered and stolen, and now
he had only those at San Fernando, which were a
small portion of those once in his possession.

The archives in the county clerk's office we found,
as reported by Judge Hayes, bound in twelve large
volumes, without system or index; nevertheless there
was much in them of historic value, and the only
thing to be done was to have an abstract made of
them for the library. One Stephen C. Foster was
recommended to me by several gentlemen as the
person most competent in Los Angeles to make the
required copies. He was one of the earliest settlers
in those parts, and besides being well versed in
Spanish, and familiar with these documents, he could
supplement many unexplained matters from his own
experience.

I found Foster after some search, for he was not a
man of very regular habits, and had no difficulty in
engaging him to do this work. I agreed to pay him
a liberal price, twenty cents a folio I think it w^as,
and he promised to begin the work immediately, and
send it to San Francisco and draw his pay as it pro-
gressed; but he failed wholly to perform the work,
and after spurring him up for more than a year, re-
ceiving a fresh promise with every effort, I finally
abandoned all hope of inducing him even to attempt
the task.

In Los Angeles at this time were many old friends
and newly-made genial acquaintances, who rendered
me every attention. Tuesday, the 3d of March, ac-
companied by a pleasant party, I was driven out to
San Gabriel mission, some seven miles east of Los
Angeles. Awaking the resident priests, Philip Farrel

494 HISTORIC RESEARCHES IN THE SOUTH.

and Joaquin Bot by name, we obtained a sight of the
mission books. Originally bound in flexible cow-
leather, one cover with a flap like a pocket-book and
the other without, they were now in a torn condition.
I copied the title-page of the Lihro de Confirmacioncs,
in two volumes, 1771-1874, which was signed, as
most of the mission books were, Fr Junipero Serra,
Presid®. In this book were several notes, embodying
the church regulations of the sacrament of confirma-
tion, the notes being usually in Spanish, with church
rules in Latin. The other books preserved at San
Gabriel mission were Matrimonios, two volumes,
1774-1855, and 1858-74, the first entry being April
19, 1774, and signed by Junipero Serra. There is
but one entry in this book signed by the president.
The Entierros and Bautismos were also there, the
latter in five volumes, the first entry being the 17th
of March 1796, and signed Miguel Sanches.

A Mr Twitchell, an old resident, told me some
things and promised to write more, but failed, like
most others, to keep his word. We were introduced to
a Californian woman whose age was given us as one
hundred and thirty- eight years, though I strongly
suspect that at each of her latest birthdays five or six
years were added to her age, for several informed me
that fiYQ years ago she was not as old as now by thirty
years; and furthermore, a granddaughter of sixty who
was with her said that her grandmother was born the
year the padres first came to California, which was in
1769, so that she could have been but one hundred
and ^YQ years of age. But she was old enough; as old,
and as leathery, discolored, and useless as the mission
books themselves, and in her withered brain was
scarcely more intelligence.

Beturning to town by way of the celebrated Bose
and Johnson places, we spent the remainder of the day
in visits. An important man was J. J. Warner, who
agreed to write. To make the promise more real, I
purchased a blank-book, and writing on the first page

LOS ANGELES FRIENDS. 495

Reminiscences of J. J. Warner, I took it with a box
of cigars to his office, and received his solemn
assurances. By close attention to the matter, I
managed to get the book half filled with original
material within three years, which, considering the
almost universal failure of my efforts of that char-
acter, I regarded as something wonderful. Judge
Sepulveda and R. M. Widney promised to write, and
I am glad to say both these gentlemen were as
good as their word; and further than this, to both of
them I am under many other obligations for kind
assistance in procuring historical material in the
vicinity of Los Angeles. Colonel Howard, not the
illustrious Volney E. of Vigilance Committee fame,
manifested the kindest interest in our efforts, thought
he might bring some influence to bear on Mrs Ban-
dini, and introduced us at the bishops' residence,
but unfortunately the bishops, Amat and Mora,
were both absent. I do not know that they would
have been of any assistance to us; on the contrary,
they might have prevented my getting the Bandini
papers. Assuredly the church was not disposed to
gather mission or other documents for my library;
whatever may have been its course formerly, or at
various stages of its history, of that kind of substance
to-day it keeps all and gets all it can.

The mission books of San Fernando preserved in
the possession of the Pico family were found to be
as follows: Matrimonios, one volume, 1797-1847, first
entry October 8, 1797, signed Francisco Dumet;
Bautismos, one volume, 1798-1852, first entry April
28, 1798, signed Francisco Dumet; Libra de Fatentes
y de Ynventario perteneciente a la Mision de S^^
Fernando Rey en la Niteva California afio de 1806.
In my hasty examination of this book it seemed to
me to contain information of sufficient value to war-
rant my sending thither Mr Foster to copy it. In
like manner another important work, said by Don
Rdmulo to be among his father's papers, but which

496 HISTORIC EESEARCHES IN THE SOUTH.

he could not at the moment lay his hands on, should
be looked after. Its title he thought to be something
as follows : La Fundacion de la Mision de San Fer-
nando Rey, por el Padre Francisco Dumet. It was
said to contain a full description of the state of the
country at the time when the mission was first es-
tabhshed. Foster failing, nothing was accomplished
tow^ard transferring this information to the library
until the visit of Mr Savage to Los Angeles, nearly
four years later. We were likewise shown a collec-
tion of Spanish printed books left by the missionaries.
They were mostly theological works printed in Spain,
none of them referring at all to the Pacific States,
and none of them of the slightest value to any person
for any purpose.

At San Buenaventura we encountered Bishop
Amat and Father Comapala, the latter a good
fellow enough, but with head lighter than heels.
Just now he was in an exceeding flutter, overawed
by gathered greatness, so much so as palpably to con-
fuse his foggy brain. He would do anything, but the
mission books contained nothing, absolutely nothing;
he and his were at my disposal, but all was nothing.
When pressed by us for a sight of this nothing, there
was the same nervous response, until Oak wrote him
down a knave or a fool. Nevertheless we tortured
him until the books were produced, fat and jolly black-
eyed Bishop Amat meanwhile smiling approvingly.

Comapala promised to write his experiences for me,
having come to the country in 1850, but he did not.
He said we should by all means see Ramon Valdes,
an ancient of San Buenaventura. Likew^ise he gave
me a letter to Jose de Arnaz, another old resident,
and straightway we hastened to find these walking
histories and to wring them out upon our pages. But
before leaving, Bishop Amat had assured us that his
library, which we had not been able to see at Los
Angeles on account of his absence, contained nothing
relating to our subject save Palou's life of Junipero

AT SANTA BARBARA. 497

Serra. He had made some researches himself among
the missions for historical matter, but without suc-
cess. He expressed the opinion that most of the
mission archives were sent to the college of San Fer-
nando in Mexico, but says he has seen documents on
the subject in the royal archives of Seville, in Spain.
The bishop also kindly gave me a letter to the padre
at San Antonio, the oldest of the Californian padres.
The missions farther north, according to Bishop Amat,
were in a miserable state, the building at Santa Ines
having been used for the storage of hay, which had
been several times fired by malicious persons. At
San Cdrlos mission the padre who had attempted to
reside there was driven away several years previous
by threats of shooting.

After taking excellent dictations from Valdes and
Arnaz, we drove five miles up a canon which makes
through the hills at this point, and along which were
the lands most cultivated by the padres, on account of
the superior advantages of this locality for irrigation.

Mounting the stage at four o'clock p. M. the day
after our arrival, we reached Santa Barbara at half-
past eight. The hotels were crowded, but the stage
agent, unknown to me, had kindly engaged rooms for
us, so that we were soon made quite comfortable.
The next day being Sunday, we attended church,
rested, and wrote up our journals. Early next morn-
ing we directed our course first to La Partera, the
residence of Doctor Alexander S. Taylor, a literary
and historical dabster of no small renown in these
parts. For twenty years and more he had been talk-
ing and writing. He knew much; but credit was
given him for knowing much more than he did know.
His was a character hien prononce. In several de-
partments of letters he was a pioneer.

Turning into a narrow lane six miles north-west of
the town, we approached a small tenement something
between a hut and a cottage. It was cheaply built
of boards, and consisted of one story with three or

Lit. Ind. 32

498 HISTORIC RESEARCHES IN THE SOUTH.

four rooms. The doctor had married a Californian
woman for her money, and had not obtained as much
as he had expected; hence half a dozen dark-com-
plexioned children, and a house not as comfortable as
he could have enjoyed. Nevertheless he found in
his wife a most excellent, hard-working, and virtuous
woman ; and her face was such as rests one to look
at, so contentedly serene it was.

Entering, we encountered the mistress of the man-
sion, a tall, thin lad}^, apparently as happy amidst her
many cares as if her husband was now and ever had
been lapped in luxury. Inquiring for Doctor Taylor,
we were shown into a back room, containing a stand,
some boxes which served instead of chairs, and a bed
on which lay stretched a man of about fifty -five years.
He was of a sandy complexion, the hair heavily
touched with gray, and his face and form were thin
but not emaciated.

In a loud hearty voice, with no foreign pronunciation,
but with the faintest possible Scotch accent, not at
all unpleasant, he bade us enter. A carbuncle on the
arm was the malady, and our presence was a diver-
sion rather than an intrusion into a sick-room; so we
seated ourselves on the boxes and entered freely into
conversation. I stated briefly the purport of my
visit to those parts, and expressed my inability to
pass him by without calling, and my regrets at finding
him ill.

''Oh! it is nothing," he answered, cheerfully. ''I
shall be up in a few days." He was indeed up again
in due time ; but within two or three years thereafter
he was laid low forever. Then I was glad I had
seen him. Alas ! how rapidly are passing away those
who alone can tell us of the past. Within six years
after this journey it seemed to me that half the more
important men I then met were dead.

Among the earlier literary labors of Doctor Taylor
was a bibliography of the Pacific coast, consisting of
some twelve hundred titles published in the Sacra-

ALEXANDER S. TAYLOR. 409

meuto Union. Subsequently this list was cut up and
pasted in a scrap-book, with changes, additions, and
interlineations. As a bibliography it was altogether
useless, from the fact that the author was obliged to
write his titles from catalogues, and newspaper and
other mention, thus making of it a rambling talk
about books with a conglomeration of names and par-
tial titles. Then there were vagrant discussions about
the Indians and the missions of California, together
with snatches of history, biography, and general
gossip, with innumerable repetitions and inaccuracies
running through thirty or forty numbers of the
Farmer newspaper, under the title of Indianology.

The doctor had a horrible fashion of afExinof to an
English word a Spanish or Latin ending, or giving a
Spanish termination to a Latin stem. He delighted
in ologies, ografas, and the like abortions, thinking by
throwing them in freely to give his work the air of
learnins:. An article on the natives of California,
published m. Bancroft's Hand- Booh Almanac, 1864, he
heads Precis India Calif ornicus.

These were his chief works, and these I had in the
Hbrary; yet so much greater than the man is often-
times his fame, that from the many accounts I had of
Doctor Taylor and his works, I had been led to pic-
ture him in my mind as sitting in the midst of literary
alHuence. I had been tauG^ht to reo^ard him, thouo^h
the happy possessor of many valuable books and
manuscripts, as an irascible old man whom misfor-
tune and disease had soured, and who valued his
treasures exorbitantly, and guarded them with petu-
lant watchfulness; so that if I should find him pos-
sessed of valuable material I could not hope to be able
to purchase it.

I had also been told tliat he had several volumes
ready for publication, but was unable to find a pub-
lisher. The conversation turning: almost immediate! v
on literary matters, I asked to see the result of his
labors. Calling his wife, who was at work in the

500 HISTORIC EESEARCHES IN THE SOUTH.

adjoining room, he requested her to bring from under
his bed a rough unpainted box, about two feet square,
having a Hd hke a chest, and locked.

" There," said the invahd, turning over in bed so
that his eyes could rest upon his treasures, '^ in that
box is twenty-five years of my life."

Poor man ! The box and all its contents were worth
intrinsically nothing, and would not bring in open
market the equivalent of a month's wages of a
common laborer. Nevertheless it was true that a
quarter-century of effort was there, a quarter-century
of thought and enthusiasm, of love-labor, of hope and
confident expectation, the results of a noble life. Yes,
a noble life; for a man's life consists in what he at-
tempts to do no less than in what he does.

The wife lifted the cover, and the sick man re-
quested me to examine the contents. First I brought
out a pamphlet on the voyages to California of
Cabrillo and Ferrelo, of which there were several
copies in my library. Then one after another books
of scraps were produced : first The Animated Nature
of California, in two volumes; next The Discoverers,
Founders, and Pioneers of California, being printed
scraps interspersed with manuscript biographical no-
tices of about one page to each person; then Bihliog-
rafa Calfornica, the first of which words belongs to
no language, 1542-1872. This was the bibliography
before mentioned. Then there was the Odds and
Ends of California History, consisting of scraps and
manuscript sketches.

In all these there was little which we already had
not in some shape; hence the value to the library
would be but small. The last named book probably
would have been worth most to my collection, but I did
not regard any of them as of sufficient importance even
to ask him his price. The contents of this box he
subsequently presented to the society of California
pioneers, in whose hands it was almost as acces-
sible to me as if it had been on my shelves. Some

J

MIXED MATERIAL. 501

time before this lie had sold to the university of
California his collection of books for six hundred
dollars, but after making some inquiries about my
collection he expressed the opinion that the lot so
sold contained nothing I required.

Of the scrap-books contained in the box, that is to
say, of his own works which he desired to publish, he
had the utmost faith as to their great value; and when
asked as to the best materials to be consulted in the
writing of a history of California, he referred to his
own prepared volumes as the only reliable source of
information.

Some years ago Doctor Taylor obtained from the
padre at San Cdrlos mission a collection of original
manuscripts, composed chiefly of correspondence of
the early padres from 1780 to 1846. This collection,
bound in seven volumes, was given to Archbishop
Alemany, and of it I have had occasion to speak
before. The volumes were placed in St Mary's
library at the cathedral. Of these letters Doctor
Taylor made two synopses, one of which went
with the documents to the archbishop and the other
was sold with his books to the university of Cali-
fornia.

While engaged in the interesting survey of this
literary life's work the invalid kept up a rapid con-
versation. He told his tale of misfortunes: how^ at
first he was successful ; how he made money, and then
unfortunately lost it, and made and lost again — the
old, old story in California. Then he married, and
]iad trouble with his wife's family; and now he found
himself stretched helpless upon a sick-bed, with a
brood of young children to grow up as best they
might. His w^oes, however, never took him far from
his beloved topic, books.

'' I will tell you a work you should have," he ex-
claimed; "it is the voyage of the Sutil and Mexicanay
containing "

*' Yes, w^e have that," said Oak.

502 HISTORIC RESEAPvCHES IN THE SOUTH.

"0 you have!" he replied, suddenly. Then after
a time he broke out a<:yain, " There is Cabrillo's
voyage, in Buckingham Smith's collection; now, if
you could come across that "

" We secured a copy some time since," replied Oak.

"Well, I declare!" exclaimed the doctor; "if you
have that, you have the only copy in this country, I
take it."

And so on, until the conversation became painful to
me. Every book he mentioned, as it happened, was
in the hbrary. That these sacred treasures were in
their real presence in my library, appeared as strange
as if I had claimed to have in my possession Aaron's
rod, St Dominick's rosary, or Hector's shield. He
did not appear jealous, but rather astounded. Every
response of Oak brought a groan of wonderment;
every response was like plunging a dagger into be-
numbed flesh. The pain, though not acute, was
palpable, and partook more of the nature of regret
than envy. I had not the heart to tell him that I had
a work in preparation on the aborigines, filling, after
the utmost condensation, five octavo volumes, and re-
ferring to hundreds of authorities which he had never
heard of, notw^ithstanding the ponderous presence of
the Bibliografa Californica,

Notv/ithstanding he had been so long living among
the missions and the mission people of California, his
mind meanwhile dwelling almost constantl}^ on the
matter of histori<jal data, I was assured by this sage
that absolutely nothing could be found in the Santa
Barbara mission, or in any of the other missions, and
that to obtain any historical matter wdiatever from
the Spanish side would be impossible. Of a truth the
souls of the dead must be io^norant of doinfys of the
living, else this good man's ghost cannot be far from
the large case of original material for the history of
California which stands in the library, nearly all
of w^hich is from the Spanish side, and gathered after
his so positive assertion that none existed.

I

COUNTY ARCHIVES. 503

A.1 though Doctor Taylor's hterary efforts are not to
be coropared with those of Judge Hayes in point of
permanent benefit to society, yet they are by no means
to be despised. The wonder is, isolated as he was, not
that the somewhat blind and illiterate litterateur did
not accomplish more, but that he accomplished so
much. He was in a wilderness alone, to him a dark
wilderness, and he did what he could. The effort was
a noble one, and though the result was small, there
was that little something left by him, the first atom
perhaps in the building of the mountain, which but
for such effort never would have been so left, and
which stamps the man in his currents of thought and
aspirations as above the common herd.

Returning from La Partera to town we called at
the city hall to look after the county archives, but
neither the clerk nor recorder knew of the existencj
of anything of the kind save the copies of a few
pueblo land-titles. From Mr Hughes, however, an
attorney long friendly to our business, I learned that
some years ago the archives were taken to San Fran-
cisco, where those of a general nature were retained
by the United States surveyor- general, and the rest
returned and placed in a tea-chest for safe-keeping.
At the next change of county officers the chest with
its contents disappeared, no one knew whither.

Our next interview was with the parish priest Padre
Jaime Vila, probably the politest man in California.
All the padres were polite, but Father Jaime over-
flowed with politeness. The attitude of obeisance was
his natural position. Side by side with his worship of
God was his reverence for man, which of a truth is
not a bad religion, provided men can be found worthy
of priestly adoration.

At all events. Father Jaime was a pleasant gentle-
man. He seemed more free from that mountain of
awful fear undeV which most of his brother priests
labored than any one we had met. As he showed us
the mission books there was a refreshing absence of

504 HISTORIC RESEARCHES IN THE SOUTH.

that great trepidation common in former cases, which
manifested itself as soon as the books were produced
and continued until they were hidden again, mean-
while persistently assuring us that their contents
were of no importance, and being evidently much
averse to our taking notes from them. Father Jaime,
like a sensible man, seemed pleased to show his books,
and took pains to explain the contents of each, evi-
dently fearing in the operation neither the thunder-
bolts of the almighty nor the machinations of Satan.

We found here four volumes of Bautismos, 1782-
1874, the first entry being signed Pedro Benito Cam-
bon. So far as could be ascertained by a hasty exam-
ination the second volume contained the baptisms of
aboriginals only. Father Jaime stated that separate
lists were kept up to a certain date, and afterward all
were entered in one book. The total number of en-
tries in the regular book was 3591, and in the Indian
book 4771. The Entierros was in three volumes, the
title of volume i. being by Junipero Serra. The
first entry, December 22, 1782, was signed Vicente
de Santa Maria. Besides which were two volumes
of Matrimonios; two volumes of Confirmaciones; one
volume of lists, or invoices of articles furnished the
mission of San Buenaventura from 1791 to 1810,
with prices; two volumes of alphabetical lists of per-
sons in the mission of Santa Barbara, with dates of
marriage, confirmation, etc., with some miscellaneous
tables, including lists of persons transferred to and
from the mission; and one volume entitled Libro en
que se apunta la Ropa que se distrihuye d los Indios
de esta Mision de San Buenaventura, 1806-16.

These books were kept at Father Jaime's residence,
which was attached to the parish church in town.
Thence we proceeded to the mission, about one mile
north-east of the town, on the side hill overlooking
the Santa Barbara plain. This mission, unlike any we
had hitherto seen, was kept in perfect repair. It was
occupied as a Franciscan college and monastery, and

FATHERS GONZALEZ AND ROMO. 505

the monks in gray robes and shaven crowns every-
where seen called to mind the south of Europe in the
olden time. Of the college, Father O'Keefe, a deter-
mined, man -of- the -world -looking Irish priest, was
president. One of the few remaining of the early
padres was Father Gonzalez, now almost in his
dotage. Some time since he resigned his position as
guardian, and was now partially paralyzed. He
nevertheless recognized us and our mission; as we
were presented to him he insisted upon rising and
uncovering his head, and directed that every facility
be afforded us. Therefore it is nob strange that I
was much taken with Father Gonzalez.

But in the present guardian of the Franciscan
college, Friar Jose Maria Homo, more than in any
of the clergy connected with the mission, I found my
ideal of a monk. He was arrayed in a long gray
gown, tied with a cord round the waist, and beads and
cross pendent. His hair was neatly cut, and the
crown of the head shaven. His eye was keen and
kindly, his features broadly intelligent, and in his air
and bearing was a manliness rarely found associated
with relio^ious learninof. He was one who could at
once be true to himself and to his faith, neither
demoralizing his humanity to his piety nor sacrificing
one jot of piety to any earthly passion. At this time
Father Homo had not been long from Rome. Italian,
French, and Spanish he spoke fluenUy, but not Eng-
lish. He was a man of weighty and learned presence,
yet modest withal and affable. As successor to Father
Gonzalez he vv^as a happy choice.

On asking to see the books and such archives as
the mission contained, Father Romo showed us first
a large box of miscellaneous contents which had been
given to the college by Doctor Taylor in payment for
tuition for his son — one hundred and fifty dollars I be-
lieve the box represented. Like everything connected
with this labor-lovincr enthusiast, the box contained a
not very defined or valuable mass of newspapers and

506 HISTOmC RESEiiUCPIES IN THE SOUTH.

booked newspaper scraps, such as copies of the
TayloYologij, printed in the ubiquitous Farmer and
Union, pamphlets, broken files of newspapers, all well
enough in their way, but of no practical value, being
only snatches of subjects, throwing but an ignorant
light on any of them.

We found the archives of Santa Barbara mis-
sion both bulky and important. They consisted of
correspondence of the padres, statistics of the sev-
eral missions, reports, accounts, inventories,, and the
like, including some documents of the pueblo and
presidio, as well as of the mission. All these were in
the form of folded papers, neatly filed in packages,
and labelled with more or less distinctness. They
were kept in a cupboard consisting of an aperture
about two feet square sunk into a partition v/all to
the depth of about one foot, and covered with plain
folding: doors. As we had never before heard of this
deposit, as Doctor Taylor even had not mentioned it,
and as it was apparently not known by any one be-
yond the mission precincts, we regarded it a rare
discovery, the first real literary bonanza we had un-
earthed during our excursion.

The archives of this mission seemed to have es-
caped the fate of all the rest. The mission was never
wholly abandoned at any time; it was never rifled of
its books and papers, either by priests returning to
Mexico or by the United States government. Father
Gonzalez assured me that this cupboard had never
been disturbed, that it was then just as it had been
left by the early fathers ; and such to every appearance
was the fact. That Doctor Taylor with his indefat-
igable industry should have allowed to escape him
this rich treasure can only be accounted for upon the
supposition that its existence was kept secret.

Besides the folded papers mentioned, there were
the following in the form of manuscript books, pam-
phlets, and printed government regulations with
official signatures: Diario de la caminata que hizo el

J

MISSION AECHIVES. 507

padre prefecto Payeras en union del padre Sanchez
por la sierra desde San Diego liasta San Gabriel 1821,
Lihro que contiene los Aijuntes de siembras, cosechas, y
demas asuntos propios de una Mision. Cateeismo Po-
litico arreglado a la constitucion de la monarquia
Espafwla — for the Californian aborigines. Quaderno
de estados e Ynformes de estas misiones de la Alta Cal-
ifornia del ano de 1822. Descripcion de la Operacion
Cesdrea — apparently an extract copied from some
medical work. Libro de las Siembras y Cosechas de la
Mision de Santa Bdrba7u que comienza desde el ano de
1808 — mostly blank. A book of sermons written and
preached by the padres in California, with an index.
Libro de Quentas que esta Mision de Santa Barbara
iiene con la habilitacion de este presidio del mismo
nombre y con otros varios particidares para este ano de
1702. A proclamation by Governor Alvarado. Three
criminal trials of persons for polygamy. Grammars
and vocabularies of the aborigines of different mis-
sions, in two volumes, extensive and important, but
very difficult to read. Accounts of the different mis-
sions, in three volumes, 181G and subsequently. In-
forme de la Mision de Santa Barbara sita, etc., asi de
lo espiritual como de lo temjjoral y comprehende desde
el 4- de Diciembre del aho de 1 786, quefue el de la fun-
dacion, hasta el dia 31 de Diciembre de 1787. Factura
de ires tercios de generos, etc., Ordenes — of the bishops
of Sonora and California; important. Testimonio de
la Real Junta sobre el nuevo reglamento e instruccion
formada por Don Josef de Eclieveste para la penin-
sida de California' y Dept. de San Bias, 1 773. Qua-
derno en que se lleva la cuenta de la cera, candeleros, y
otras cosas que se lian comprado para la Iglesia de
Santa Barbara desde el afio de 1850 — to 1856.

To examine these documents at any length at this
time was impracticable. I asked permission to take
the contents of the cupboard to San Francisco to
copy, but Father Rome assured me it was impossible,
that he could not assume the responsibility of letting

508 HISTORIC RESEARCHES IN THE SOUTH.

them go beyond the mission walls. I offered bonds
fur the safe return of every paper. '' Your money
could not restore them," said Father Homo, " in case
they were lost by fire or water; then I should be
censured." Permission was freely given me, how-
ever, to copy as much as I pleased within the mis-
sion buildings, where every facility would be given
me ; of which kind offer I subsequently made avail, as
will be mentioned hereafter, transferring the contents
of the cupboard, that is to say, all the valuable part of
it, to my library by means of cop3^ists.

At five o'clock a.m. the 10th of March we left Santa
Barbara by stage and were set down at Ballard's
about two o'clock. Early next morning in a farm
wagon we drove out to the college of Guadalupe,
some five miles south-eastward, and thence to Santa
Ines mission. The books of Purisima mission being
at Santa Ines, we concluded not to visit the former,
as there was nothing there specially to be seen.

The mission library at Santa Ines was the largest
wx had yet seen, but was composed almost exclusively
of theological works printed in Spain. Besides the
regular Purisima mission books I saw at Santa
Ines a curious old book from Purisima, partly printed
and partly in manuscript. It was an oUa ]Jodrida of
scraps, notes, accounts, etc., with a treatise on music.
Marking such parts of it as I desired, I engaged the
priest to make and send me a copy.

A most uncomfortable night ride in the rain
brought us to San Luis Obispo. There, as before,
vre drew plans of the mission buildings, examined
the books, took several dictations, and proceeded on
our way. As we approached the northern end of
the line of early ecclesiastical settlement, the missions
lay some distance away from the stage route, and I
concluded to leave those nearest home for another
occasion. Hence from San Luis Obispo we all re-
turned, reaching San Francisco the 15th of March,
well pleased with our excursion.

JUDGE HAYES AGAIN". 509

In transmitting to me bis material, Judge Hayes
seemed anxious that it should go forth, like a beloved
daughter to her marriage, in its best apparel. And
therein he proved himself a high-minded and disin-
terested lover of history, ready to give himself, his
time, and best remaining thoughts to the cause. "I
wish to finish up my collection," he writes me, ''so
that you may have all the facts in my possession
that may in any way be useful to you."

First he completed and forwarded to me the large
quarto volume of Alta California Missions which I
had left with him. In a letter dated the 14th of
October 1874 he says: ''I send by express the tw^o
volumes of Indian Traits. Mr Luttrell did not come
down with the commission sent by the secretary of
the interior. I have therefore no such use for this
collection now as I supposed I might have. I have
been able to add but a few matters to it. Whatever
further information I may collect must go into another
volume. Emigrant Notes now only waits for photo-
graphs to be completed. The board of supervisors of
San Bernardino directed a photographer to furnish
me with twelve views which I had designated. Day
before yesterday our photographer took for me twenty
views around the Old Town, which he will get ready
immediately."

Several visits were made by Judge Hayes to Los
Angeles during the following year, at which times he
used his utmost influence to obtain from Olvera and
others historical information, but without much suc-
cess. Finally, about the beginning of 1876, I engaged
Judge Hayes to drop his professional duties for a
time, take up his residence at Los Angeles, and de-
vote his entire thoughts and energies to securing for
me the historical information which was so rapidly
fading in that vicinity.

Being himself executor and legal adviser for several
estates, he was enabled to secure some material from
them. In regard to the county archives, he examined

510 HISTORIC RESEARCHES IN THE SOUTH.

the entire collection of twelve volumes of original
documents which I had seen at Los Angeles, and
made abstracts, as he had done with the San Diego
archives, except that, these being more voluminous,
he employed two copyists to write out in full such
documents as he designated. Besides an abstract, he
made for me a complete index of those papers, which I
found very useful. Thus all that could be valuable to
history was taken from these archives and transferred
to my library, where it was preserved in large and
strongly bound volumes. It was a long and expensive
piece of work, but there was no other feasible plan
wliich could place me in possession of the material;
and, indeed, I considered myself fortunate in securing
the services of one so able, experienced, and enthusias-
tic as Judge Hayes. But for him, the expense might
easily have been doubled, and the work not half so
well performed.

I cannot better illustrate the nature of this work
than by placing before the reader a few extracts from
Judge Hayes' letters:

*'I send another package of copies," he writes Mr Oak the 22d of February
1876. "The hill of Mr Murray is for 28,708 words, amounting to $57.40.
This is at twenty cents a folio. Young Mr Bancroft spoke to me as to reducing
the charge for copying to fifteen cents per folio. I had some conversation with
Mr Murray on this subject, and have thought a good deal about it. Mr
Murray is an expert in this mattery and is extremely useful to me in many
other ways besides merely copying. I know other persons here who can copy
Spanish, but I would have many difficulties in getting along with any of
them. In the recorder's office it is almost impossible to obtain room for more
than one copyist. I have now examined the large bound volumes, page
after page. Much of it is hard to decipher. Yesterday afternoon, in one of
our studies of three words combined in one, we had the aid of Ignacio Sepul-
veda, district judge, and Juan de Toro, both educated natives, and at last
!Mr Murray and I solved the problem, he part and I the balance. This occurs
very often with these Los Angeles papers. To-morrow we will begin the city
records, which, I am informed, have much valuable historical matter. The
prefect records I will drop for a while, although I have references to much
interesting matter yet to be copied. Besides the city records, there are seven
large volumes in the clerk's office, entitled * Civil,' that will have to be looked
into, every page, in order to be sure I lose not a single fact of interest. !Many
Angelinos manifest considerable interest in this work. If I can get access

ARDUOUS LABORS. 511

to material in the hands of Coronel and others, I doubt not I will find docu-
ments often of greater value than these archives I am now examining. If so,
such papers I will have to copy myself, for their holders will be cautious in
letting any go out of their possession."

The 13th of April he writes:

"Following your hint that every day is important in your investigations,
I send the index, so that my old friend R. C. Hopkins can proceed at once
to give you his valuable aid. I will try to extract some valuable leading notes
from our old citizens as leisure may permit. Think I will succeed. I send
index to vol. iii. Avgeles City Archives. I sent index to vol. iv. with my last.
My idea is to make a complete index, in about the same style, to each volume
of the archives. If you observe anything not copied in full that ought to be
copied, please advise me. ]Mr Murray is at work now on the ayuntnmienfos
of 1838, 1839, and 1844, copying portions in full ; the rest I will abridge. We
are approaching the end of our full copies. The ayuntamkntos, written by
^Ir Bancroft, I believe would be eminently useful to lawyers of a future day.
I doubt if the ayuntamiento records are as full anywhere as at Los Angeles.
At Santa Bdrbara Mr Packard told me nearly all are lost. Los Angeles appears
to have no records back of 1828."

And again, the 22d of April:

' ' I sent you indices of the first four volumes of the city archives. The ayun-
tamientosoi 1S3G, 1837, 1838, 1839, and 1844 are still to be abridged. The nine
volumes of civil, and seven volumes of criminal records remain to be ana-
lyzed. They present very little, I think, for full copies. I met Colonel Warner
day before yesterday, and mentioned the matter of his book and Mr Bancroft's
wishes. I remembered the book, part of which I read long since in liLs office.
I told him that you relied on him for his Recollections. He said he showed
you the book at San Francisco ; but that you had made no particular request
of him for what he had already written, or for its continuance, but added he
would send you his Recollections if so requested by you. It appears to be just
as I had imagined, he is waiting to be further coaxed. I send to-day an inci-
dent in his life from the city archives ; he no doubt can add many of greater
interest. I mentioned to Mr Murray your suggestion as to Santa Barbara.
He said he could afford to attend to it at the old price, twenty cents a folio.
Probably this would not be too much, for those archives are written by the
priests, who always write worse than lawyers."

May 3d he says :

"I find a more kindly spirit, or greater confidence in me, gro-wang up among
the old native Calif omians. Two very valuable aids were offered me day before
yesterday by Leonardo Cota and Agustin Olvera. Antonio Coronel made a
similar offer a couple of weeks since. I think I will get from them much useful
information. "

512 HISTORIC RESEARCHES IN THE SOUTH.

About this time a young fellow named Kelly came
to me and represented that he had great influence
with the old families, asking a commission from me to
obtain narratives and papers. He brought a letter
from K. C. Hopkins, of the United States surveyor-
general's office, who strongly recommended him.
Unfortunately for me, I employed him. In this part
of my work one bad man would undo the work of
six good men.

This Kell}^ assured me that all southern California
would receive him with open arms. Among others,
he mentioned the name of Judge Hayes, and I wrote
to the judge about him. But before the following
reply came, I had seen enough of Mr Kelly never to
wish again to see him. He made a little trip south
for me, but I soon recalled and discharged him.

"In respect to Mr Kelly," writes Judge Hayes the 27tli of October, "I
hardly know what to say. He told me he had special access to a diary kept
through his whole life by Ignacio del Valle. By others who had seen Don
Andres' papers, I was led to believe he had left nothing worthy of notice.
Mr Kelly also told me he had the privilege of examining the San Fernando
Mission records. What these are I know not ; I doubt if there are any of value.
Mr Kelly seemed to think that San Gabriel, San Luis Rey, and San Juan
Capistrano had valuable records. I have never heard of any, and do not be-
lieve there are any. I have received two diaries, one from F. Melius and one
from Captain Robbins, besides some papers of Pedro C. Carrillo. I rely
much on the Coronel papers. Agustin Olvera died the 6th of this month.
His son, Cdrlos Olvera, took all his papers to his home at Chular, Monterey
county, in order to arrange them. He is executor, and I am attorney for
him."

The next most important work to be done in the
w^ay of obtaining material was to secure copies of the
archives of Santa Barbara mission. Of the men em-
ployed by Judge Hayes in my behalf at Los Angeles,
as we have seen, Edward F. Murray proved to be the
best. I endeavored to induce Judge Hayes to go to
Santa Barbara and make an abstract of the archives
there, as he had done at San Diego and at Los An-
geles. But professional duties would not longer be
thrust aside; and, besides, his failing health warned

INSTRUCTIONS. 513

him to put his house in order for that most unwel-
come of visitors, death.

Mr Murray was recommended very highly by
Judge Hayes for the Santa Barbara mission, and as
he expressed his willingness to go, an engagement was
effected, beginning about the middle of June 187G,
and which continued with a few interruptions to 1878.

He was a faithful and competent man, and his
abstracts on the whole gave satisfaction. It was no
easy matter for a writer in San Francisco to send a
stranger to work on a distant mass of papers, con-
cerning which neither had much knowledge, and have
the requisite material properly taken out; but Mr
Murray, besides being a man of quick perception,
thorough education, and wide experience, had served
so long and so well under the able directorship of
Judge Hayes that there was really less difficulty than
I had anticipated.

This was in no small measure due to the careful
instructions of Mr Oak, under whose watchful super-
vision the entire work of Mr Murray, and of all other
searchers employed by me, was conducted. Being
somewhat unique, and necessarily so, for the work
was individual, I give in substance these instructions,
which possibly in some measure may prove suggestive
to others acting under like circumstances:

The paper on which the copies were to be made was ruled with perpen-
dicular red lines, so as to form a margin on either side, with the view of
binding the sheets in volumes. Mr Murray was directed to write only on
one side of the paper, between the red lines, and to leave at least one blank
line at the bottom of each age. As a rule but one document was to be put
upon a page, except in cases of mere titles or short abridgments, when plenty
of space was to be left between the documents.

"Arrange the documents for copying," he continues, "as nearly in
chronological order as possible ; but do not waste much time in this arrange-
ment, as exact regularity is not of much importance. AVrite the title of each
document, whether it be of any importance or not, with enough of explana-
tion to make it perfectly clear what the document is. In some cases this
title will be enough ; in others the title should be followed by an abridgment
of contents ; but in most cases it should be followed by a literal copy.

' ' Finish one document before beginning another ; and let one follow another
Lit. Ind. 33

614 HISTORIC RESEARCHES IN THE SOUTH.

without trying to keep titles, abridgments, and copies separate, as has been
done at Los Angeles. But a book of any length, which will make a small
volume of itself, may be copied separately, and the work done by assistants
may of course be kept separate if more convenient. The old mission books
of baptisms, marriages, etc., are in charge of the parish curate; please make
from them a list of padres, with the date of the first and last entries made
by each padre. There are also a few books of San Buenaventura mission
from which you can derive some information. Get all you can from the
county archives, but there is very little there. Send up your work with
your bill at the end of each week."

With these general rules may be placed several ex-
tracts from letters written at various times, all forming
part of the instructions:

"I think, after your experience with Judge Hayes," he writes, "you will
find no difficulty in doing the work satisfactorily, especially as nearly all the
Santa Barbara papers should be copied literally. The only classes of docu-
ments which will have to be very much abridged will be mission accounts,
in which of course long lists of items should not be copied. In such cases a
clear statement of the nature of the account, the parties represented, the
general nature of the items — cattle, grain, tools, etc. — and the totals should
be given.

' ' From the San Buenaventura padron you will take totals year by year ;
but of course we care nothing for mere names of Indian neophytes. From the
book of invoices you will take totals and some extracts showing the class of
merchandise furnished, and prices. I cannot well specify what information to
take from old residents, because we need almost everything relating to a
period preceding 1849 : Personal reminiscences, amusing anecdotes, biograph-
ical notes of prominent men and women, historical events, manners and
customs of the Calif omians, amusements, politics, family history, etc. — in
fact all that anybody can remember. Of course you will make this work, at
present, secondary to that of the archives. You may, if you like, keep it to
fill up spare time. Go first to the eldest and most intelligent persons ; and
meantime do all you can to interest the old families in the work.

" The town maps need not be copied; neither is it necessary to trace any
bignatures. Old plans of the mission and presidio should be traced. Always
ase figures, even in copying, to express numbers. Be careful not to copy in
full when all the information can better be conveyed in a few words. Make
all work secondary to that at the mission. It would be well always to look
forward among the papers and send me a note before copying long and im-
portant documents. Mission documents of all kinds between 1784 and 1824
are of greater importance than those before 1784. I will send you a list of
the archbishop's documents."

I will now give a sketch of Mr Murray's labors at
Santa Barbara and vicinity, as nearly in his own Ian-

MURRAY'S REPORT. 515

uage as practicable. The 12th of June from Santa
arbara he writes:

" I arrived at this place this morning. I went at once to the mission, and
was received very kindly by Father Sanchez and a young Irish priest whose
name I did not learn, Father Romo being absent. They are disposed to
afford me every facility in their power, but unfortunately could place at my
disposal only a manuscript volume of Memorkis, the remainder of the archives
being in charge of Father Romo, who is not expected to return for several
days. Padre Sanchez, however, gave me a note to the parish priest, who has
kindly consented to allow me to copy from the books in his charge. There
are several volumes, records of births, baptisms, confirmations, and deaths,
and in these I hope to find enough to keep me busy until the librarian's
return."

Without breaking the narrative with constant refer-
ences and dates, at the same time adding sufficient
connection, I will select from Mr Murray's letters, in
their proper order, such items as I deem worthy of
record. Mr Murray writes carefully, and his long
labor and experience in these parts entitle his words
to great weight :

*' There are in charge of the curate," he goes on to say, "two sets of
records, one for the Indians and one for the white population. Among these
are two volumes of records of San Buenaventura mission, one a padron be-
ginning in the year 1825, the other copies of invoices of the annual remittance
of merchandise to the mission. In the county recorder's office there are tw^o
volumes, Acuerdos del Ayuntamiento de Santa Barbara desde 13 de Marzo de
I84O, and ending April 25, 1850, and Solares y Terrenos de Labranza, this
last being grants of land within the city. In the city clerk's office there is
one volume of Ordenanzasoi the Consejo Munici'pal from 1850 to 1854. I have
already secured one copyist, and have in view another. I have procured a
place to board as near as possible to the mission, yet I am nearly three
quarters of a mile from it. Shall take my lunch with me, and anticipate a
pleasant walk morning and evening.

*' The first day I went up to the mission they showed me an old book of
Memorias, which they said had been by chance left out of the library, and
which I was welcome to use. It was mostly accounts which would have to
be very much abridged, and I did not intend taking it up, only as a last resort.
I went up a few days after and asked to see the book, and they handed me
one of Patentes. I intimated that it was not the same I had seen on my first
visit, but they assured me that it was. I was not disposed to dispute it, and
after a little examination was pleased to find that it was perhaps the best
book that they could have given me, as it contains the icports of the mission
from its foundation.

"I send you this week," writing the 2d of July, "the Acuerdos del

516 HISTORIC RESEAHCHES IX THE SOUTH.

Ayuntamiento complete, a portion of the Ordenanzas, and Casamientos de
Indios, and Casamier ios de los de liazon complete. I have already started
one of my assistants at the mission to copy the Patentes. 1 have ascertained
the names of several of the old residents who are most likely to give me
information, and I think I have found one who, if so disposed, can give some
clew to the city papers of 1835-50, lost several years since. There is an old
man by the name of Burke, who has been here, I think, since 1836. He came
from Los Angeles, and was concerned in an affair with one Maria Pegi. She
was banished to San Diego, and Burke to Santa Barbara. You should have
a copy of the proceedings in this case among the Los Angeles papers. I pro-
pose visiting him this week. I can make a tracing of the old presidio and
most of the adjoining houses that existed some forty or fifty years ago. At
the mission one afternoon one of the priests asked me if the Mr Bancroft by
whom I was employed was not formerly United States minister to Germany,
who had written against the Catholics. I assured him that he was not the
same Mr Bancroft, whereui)on he seemed satisfied."

A week later he says :

" Father Romo arrived Friday morning. He leaves again to-morrow for
San Francisco, and will call on Mr Bancroft. He has placed everything at my
disposal, and has given me the room formerly occupied by Father Gonzales,
for myself and assistants. Father Romo told me that in the office at the
mission there is a board about two feet square with the Lord's prayer in one
of the Indian languages written on it, which was used in teaching the Indians
the Pddre Nvestro.

" There are reports here of all the missions from as early as 1773 to 1836.
The earlier reports are very full, many of them giving the date of their
establishment, their geographical position, distance from adjoining missions,
the names of the fathers in charge, and in some few instances the age, years
of service, and place of birth of missionaries. As it is quite probable that
the originals, and in some cases the copies of many of the papers of this
mission are contained in those of the archbishop, it would, perhaps, save the
recopying of some of these documents if you would send me a list of those
taken from his library. I would like suggestions as to the copying of cor-
respondence. That of Serra, Lasuen, Duran, and Payeras, presidents of the
missions, and also that of the viceroys are for the most part to be copied in
full, I presume."

Passing on to August, I find in his several letters
the following items of interest :

" I am very sorry," he says, " that I should have copied the Bepresenta-
clones of Padre Serra of 1773, but your mention, in your last, of Father
Palou's book was the first intimation I ever had of its existence. I send
you a list of several documents of date prior to 1784, as also the titles of a
few others of later date, about the copying of which I am in doubt. I find
it very slow work, and exceedingly trying to the eyes, reading these papers ;
and lately the necessity of assorting, arranging, and selecting work for my

DE LA GUERRA PAPERS. 517

assistants has obliged me to read continually, allowing me no time to do any
copying. There seems to be an impression that any one who has a smattering
of Spanish and can write is capable of doing this work, which, however,
does not agree with my experience, and that the price paid is excessive.
Although not a novice, I do not consider myself an expert in this business ;
and yet, I employ an assistant whose language is Spanish, and whom I have
quite frequently had to help along.

" Yesterday I examined the De laGuerra family's papers," he begins, Sep-
tember, ' ' and think there may be many documents of interest to you among
them. There is a large mass of these papers, principally correspondence of
the old Comandante de la Guerra, extending from the year 1801 to 1850,
accounts and inventories of the presidios of San Diego, Santa Barbara, and
Monterey, aranceles, etc. Have you the account of the canon perdido, and
the quinienios pesos of Santa Bdrbara? From the extent of his researches in
the mission archives I conclude that Mr Bancroft intends to give a most com-
plete history of the mission system, and that everything relating to the In-
dians, who were the object of this system, their manners and customs, both in
their savage and semi-civilized state, must be subject of interest. This
seems to be the first and only formal search that has been made of the mission
archives; however, much information may have been derived from other
sources. There is more authentic information contained in these records than
can possibly be included in any other public or private archives, excepting,
perhaps, those of the college of San Fernando de Mexico. My instructions to
my assistants are to copy in full the reports of the president, observing the
numerical order of questions, and to copy from the reports of the missions
respectively the corresponding answers, only, however, when they differ ma-
terially from those of the presidents. I wish you to feel that in this work
your interest is mine ; that I realize fully not only the importance but the
imperative necessity of thoroughness and all possible accuracy. It is a matter
of pride with me that my work shall give satisfaction. I have a number of
reports showing the names of the different fathers, the missions they were
assigned to, date of their arrival, and that of their death or return to Mexico.
There are many years missing, but with the aid of the reports from the differ-
ent missions, the general biennial correspondence of the missions, and circu-
lars of the presidents, I hope to produce a complete list.

' * Heretofore, agreeably to your suggestions, I have made no attempt to
arrange or classify the papers chronologically or with reference to subject;
but now that I am about to begin the abridging and condensing, I do not see
how it can well be avoided, at least the arranging of subjects. Where there
are several documents relating to the same subject, the abridging will be
greatly facilitated and accelerated by having them together. In such cases,
frequently, by giving one full abridgment, the title, date, and signatures only
of the other are required ; if their purport be the same, reference can be made
to the leading one, and if there be anything additional, a line or two will
suffice to show what it is.

"I send herewith the first bundle of general index. I have numbered
all the titles and abridgments of documents and arranged them under differ-
ent heads, and as far as possible in chronological order. All the documents

518 HISTORIC RESEARCHES IN THE SOUTH.

I am marking with subjects, title, and number in the same way, so that they
will correspond with the index. Father Romo is pleased with this order,
which I have explained to him, and assures me that it will not be changed ;
so that should you at any time require a copy of any of these papers, it can
be designated by subject, title, and number, and save all needless delay in
searching for it. "

In answer to fears expressed that others might seek
to make use of the work he was doing, he writes in
October:

**No one has ever examined, copied, or taken notes from the material
extracted by me for you ; no one has ever applied to me for permission to do
so; neither is it possible for any one except the fathers to gain access to the
papers. I use as a writing room the same apartment in which the papers
were kept when you visited the mission in 1874. I am never absent during
the day, and at night the room is locked and the key kept by Father Romo.
I am under the impression that some material was derived from these papers
for Father Gleeson's work."

"In my last lot of manuscript I made a copy of Echeandia's bando of 6th
of January 1831, with notes by — I should judge — Father Narciso Duran,
since his initials, thus, Es copki Fr N. D., occur at the end of the bando, and
the ^vriting throughout seems to be his. I intended to abridge it, but did not
see how I could well do so. I am finding several documents that I consider
too important to be abridged, especially those relating to the Secularizacion de
las Misiones. There are yet to be indexed six hundred and thirty-five docu-
ments. Of these, about one hundred, perhaps more, will have to be abridged,
and less than half that number copied in full. There are also counted in
this number, one hundred and twenty-five letters, the correspondence of the
mission presidents, and many of the higher military officials. I am sorry to
learn that my abridgments have been too full, and would feel very thankful
for a few suggestions. This condensing and abridging is very perplexing at
times. "

Toward the close of the year he meets with some
hinderances :

•'I have been unable to get at the papers in the mission for the last three
weeks," he writes the 21st of December, "owing to the diphtheria having
made its appearance. There are still several cases, including two of the
brothers; and one of the pupils has died."

In common with all the proud old families of Cali-
fornia, the descendants of De la Guerra had to be
won from a state of prejudice and disinclination.

THE OLD CALIFORNIA FAMILIES. 519

The 25th of January Mr Murray writes from Santa
Bdrbara :

** There is no disposition on the part of the De la Guerra family to give,
or even lend, any of their papers to Mr Bancroft — that is, to send them to San
Francisco. It is even doubtful if I can get permission to take them to my
room for convenience in copying. They are kept in an old dusty and dimly
lighted attic, or alto, and there I expect I shall be obliged to do all my work.
I have already spoken to some one of the members of all the principal Cali-
fomian families, and although they have all oflfered to furnish me with papers
in greater or less numbers for copying here, none of them will consent to
their leaving Santa Barbara. They understand the advantage of furnishing
me with information, in order that their families may be fully and creditably
represented; yet, although I have offered to give them a receipt for their
papers, and have assured them that they would be properly arranged, neatly
bound, carefully preserved, or safely returned as soon as the work is com-
pleted, it is all to no purpose. Documents that before my inquiry were
worthless, and would eventually have been consigned to the flames or have
furnished some rat a lining to his nest, have suddenly acquired a value that
may be measured by the caprice or cupidity of their holders, or my apparent
indifference or eagerness to obtain them. Hundreds of documents, many no
doubt of no little historical interest, have been carelessly burned, without
any assignable reason. A large number have been used for kindling fires and
manufacturing cigarettes. The average Californian is loath to believe that
an American, or as they would say, a Yankee, can possibly have any view
but that of pecuniary gain in all his undertakings and enterprises ; and this,
together with his natural antipathy for the race, does not incline him to be
disinterestedly obliging. Consequently their willingness to even furnish me
with the papers for copying is due entirely to the persuasion that their own
interests are greatly served thereby. I do not apprehend any serious diffi-
culty in obtaining any aud all papers not of a strictly private nature; for,
while I make them believe that these papers are not objects of great or even
small solicitude with me, I shall also be careful to make them understand
that by their failure to furnish me with whatever infonnation, oral or docu-
mentary, of interest to me that they may possess, they will be the losers."

Nevertheless Mr Murray obtained for me many
papers to send to San Francisco, some of which were
to be copied and returned, while others were permitted
to remain. After a two months' illness he writes, the
13th of March 1877:

"As to my mistake in underestimating the time necessary to complete the
mission work, I can only say that the appearance of the papers, their number
and their importance, as I supposed without having read them, led me to
think two weeks enough for their completion. I proposed to look over all those
relating to matters purely ecclesiastical, giving their substance in brief. The

520 HISTOrvIC RESEARCHES IN THE SOUTH.

political correspondence I expected to condense very much, but T found
abundance of matter that I could not omit, and in many cases that I dared
not abridge lest the meaning should be affected. In letters especially, and in
all documents in which reference is made to others, expressions are frequently
used in relation to persons and affairs previously mentioned whose full force
and precise meaning are somewhat doubtful, and which can be ascertained
only by careful study and comparison with those to which they refer. Again,
the authors of these letters did not at all times express themselves with
clearness and precision, and indeed one cannot but notice that their language
is often made purposely vague and obscure. In such cases I prefer that either
you or Mr Bancroft interpret their meaning."

Writing in April, Mr Murray says :

*'I am making out a list of the padres and missions, and I have found that
it requires much more time than I had at first expected. The list when com-
pleted will contain an abridged account of the fathers, their names arranged
in alphabetical order, the date of their arrival, the mission or missions to which
they were appointed, with the date of such appointments, and that of their
transfer, etc. ; following this will come a list of the missions in their regular
order, and under each the names of the padres who administered them, and
the dates of their taking charge, the capacity in which they served, and their
duration in the mission. There are thirty-one lists or reports of the padres,
the earliest that of 1789 and the latest that of 1832. Between these dates
there are missing those corresponding to the years 1790-1, 1794—5, 1797, and
1822-30. I expect to supply them, in part, from the mission reports, especially
those from 1822-30. I have already between one hundred and twenty and one
hundred and thirty names, and expect to add from ten to twenty more. This
done, there remains only the mission accounts, sermons, etc.

"I shall obtain as much information as possible about Father Gonzales.
I had expected to be allowed to look over his papers, of which there is a trunk-
ful, but in this I was disappointed. I did succeed in getting a few of them
when I first came here, but I was interrupted by one of the fathers while
looking over them, and was informed that Father Romo had instructed him to
allow no one to examine them. I was at a loss to account for this at that
time, and up to within a few months since, when Father Romo mentioned in
one of our conversations his intention of writing a biography of Father
Gonzales."

The 5tli of May saw the last of the Santa Barbara
mission archives copied or condensed:

" I made no extracts from the L'lbro de Sermones," says Mr Murray, "for
the reason that there is nothing of special interest in any of the sermons. They
are all apparently copies of sermons preached in Mexico or Spain, and contain
nothing but what applies to the supposed spiritual condition of the neophyte ;
and I should judge them to be too deep even for the neophyte educated in the

THE WORK FINISHED. 521

mission, and wholly incomprehensible to the adult convert. From the Lihro
de Slembras I have made no extracts, as I expect the reports will furnish the
same facts.

"In making notes of the mission, I propose, as before stated, to give a
brief account of its present appearance and condition ; the objects of inter-
est within the mission and church, such as the ornamentos y vasos sagrados, of
which there still exist several vestments and vessels first used in this mission.
In the vault underneath the church are the remains of General Figueroa, if I
mistake not ; and I have no doubt there are many things about which a brief
mention will be acceptable. Without the mission proper there are the
orchard, the ruins of the convert houses, the old mill, the tan vats, reservoir,
and other objects of interest.

"At San Buenaventura there is an ex-mission chorister, quite old, yet
sound in mind, and intelligent. He speaks Spanish fluently, and still retains
his native language. He served as interpreter for the fathers. At Santa
Inds there are several, and among them one who is reported to have passed
his hundredth year. He is still unusually sound in body and mind, is
somewhat intelligent, has a good memory, and remembers quite distinctly
the founding of that establishment and many of the events connected
with it.

* ' I am close upon the track of the missing city archives, but the prospect
of getting my hands on them is by no means encouraging. There is an old
Spaniard whose name has been given me, a resident of this place, who told
my informant, a professional gentleman whom I consider reliable, that he has
papers in his possession which if published would implicate several of the
prominent men of Santa Barbara in frauds in city grants of land, committed
while they were in the common council.

"On inquiring into the history of families here, lam inclined to think
that the character even of some of the most prominent will have to be
patched up to make it appear even respectable. There have been practices
among the old Californians that are, to say the least, discreditable to their
name and family. Illegitimate children abound; and in one of the families of
Santa Bdrbara, which has, I believe, always been considered among the first,
they have brought up, in close companionship with their legitimate ofTspring,
one or more of illegitimate issue. This is but a single instance ; there are
many more, I am told. There is also abundant material here for another
chapter of the Burke and Maria Pegi afiair.

" It is not my desire or purpose to make special inquiry as to the evil acts
of those whom I may have occasion to write about ; but I suppose that it is
quite as desirable to know the evil as the good relating to these persons, in
order to form a just opinion of their character. All information of this evil
nature I have decided to send you on separate notes, which I will head
' Black List, ' and which I would prefer to have kept by themselves, that no
outside person be allowed access to them, either at present or in the future.

" I have made a note of the reports, which the blanks show to be want-
ing in your library, and which do not exist here ; and should I find any of
them at the mission I am about to visit, I will make necessary extracts and
send them to you."

522 HlSTOmC RESEARCHES IN THE SOUTH.

From Saa Buenaventura he writes the 12th of
June :

** I have been at this place since the 6th instant. I found here at the
church the parish records only. From these I have been able to extract a few-
facts of interest and to complete the list of the padres who served this
mission. I shall make a few notes from the records of baptisms, marriages,
and deaths, of whatever may be useful relating to the gente de razon.

"There are three old Calif ornian families living in and near this town.
Arnaz, the most important, has, I am told, a number of private papers— a
whole trunkful, one of the sons told me. Ignacio del Valle, who lives at
the Ranclio Camulos, some fifty miles distant, is also said to have an abun-
dance of private papers. At Santa In^s I will complete the work as soon

The 17th of August Mr Murray sent up copies of
the San Buenaventura, Santa Ines, and La Purisima
mission papers.

Back to Santa Bdrbara again, Mr Murray makes
another effort to secure the De la Guerra documents:

*' I have not had access to the De la Guerra papers until to-day," he writes
the loth of October. " I was kept waiting for over a month for the return of
Mrs De la Guerra; and upon her arrival here, about tw o weeks since, they found
another pretext, in the absence of Mr Dibblee, for putting me off until to-day.
What reason they have for this, after having assured me something like a year
ago that I could have the papers for copying whenever I wished, I cannot
imagine. There will be no further delay in the work on these papers. I
think I shall have no trouble in inducing from five to ten prominent Califor-
nians, men or women, to dictate their recuerdos. I have already taken a few-
notes from two of the oldest men in the place. "

Ten days later he sent an instalment of the De la
Guerra papers, and in due time copies of the whole
of them.

The results of Mr Murray's long and faithful labors
are additions to the library of twelve large manu-
script volumes of Santa Barbara mission archives;
one volume of Santa Barbara county archives; one
volume San Buenaventura mission; one volume La
Purisima mission; one volume Santa Ines mission;
one volume mission correspondence; six volumes De
la Guerra documents, besides a number of dictations
by old residents, and a large quantity of original docu-

EXPEDITIONS OF MR SAVAGE. 523

ments from various sources. Later Mr Murray took
his seat in the hbrary as one of my most faithful
assistants.

A further most important work in southern Cah-
fornia was that performed for me by Mr Thomas
Savage, an account of which I now proceed to give :

After a prehminary examination of the county
archives at San Jose and Sahnas, and the papers at
the Jesuit college and parochial church at Santa Clara,
with several copyists, notably Senores Pina, Corona,
and Gomez, Mr Savage proceeded in March 1877 to
Salinas and began operations in a large room which
he rented near the office of the recorder, Jacob R.
Leese, who afforded him every facility.

Despatching Gomez in search of native Californians
from whom a narrative of recollections was desired,
Mr Savage placed before the others books of records,
and directed them what and how to abstract. Prom-
inent among those who gave in their testimony at this
time were Francisco Arce and Francisco Rico, the
latter detailing the particulars of 1845-G, the wars of
the revolution, the campaign against Micheltorena,
and the actions of the Californians against the United
States forces. Thus passed four weeks, when, the
work at Salinas being accomplished, the copyists were
sent back to San Francisco, and Mr Savage proceeded
to Monterey. Here were important personages, for
instance, Florencio Serrano, Estevan de la Torre,
Mauricio Gonzalez, John Chamberlin, and James
Meadows, the last named being one of the prisoners
sent from California to Mexico in 1840. These and
other dictations, with a bundle of original papers, were
the result of four weeks' labor at this place, after
which Mr Savage returned to San Francisco.

A second trip began the 21st of May, when with
the same copyists Mr Savage ^ent to San Jose,
and after a month's labor secured to the library all
that was required from the public archives of that

524 HISTOmC EESEARCHES IN THE SOUTH.

place, which consisted of six vohimes of records and
twenty-five hundred loose documents, every one of
v/hich Mr Savage carefully examined for historical
data. Among those from whom dictations were then
taken was Eusebio Galindo. From the heirs of the
late Antonio Sufiol a collection of letters by John A.
Sutter was obtained.

Sending the copyists back to San Francisco, Mr
Savage proceeded with Gomez to Santa Cruz, where
the books and loose papers of the mission were placed
under contribution, and also the public papers, which
were mostly of the old town of Branciforte. From
Father Hawes and Mr McKinney, county clerk,
Mr Savage received many favors. Near Watsonvillo
lived Jose Amador, son of Pedro Amador, one of the
soldiers present at the founding of San Diego and
Monterey, and for many years sergeant in the San
Francisco presidial company. ^'I found this man of
ninety-six years," writes Mr Savage, *'who had at one
time been wealthy, and after whom Amador county
v/as named, living in great poverty under the care of
his youngest daughter, who is married and has many
children. He granted my request without asking
gratuity, and in six days narrated two hundred and
forty pages of original information. I used to take
every day something to the children, and occasionally
a bottle of Bourbon to warm the old man's heart."
The 17th of July Mr Savage was back in San
Francisco.

As the history of California progressed it became
evident that, notwithstanding the mass of material in
hand, namely the Hayes collection, mission, govern-
ment, municipal, and private archives, transcripts
made by Hayes, Murray, Savage, and others, there
were gaps which yet more thorough research alone
would fill; or rather, from a fuller insight into the
subject, and the rej)orts of intelligent persons, I was
convinced that important information remained yet

i

PIO PICO'S DICTATION. 525

unearthed, and I could not rest satisfied without it.
There were church records to be looked into and
utilized at nearly all the former missions between
San Diego and San Juan; and moreover, it was im-
portant to procure the version of old Californians and
others in the southern counties on the sectional quar-
rels there existing, especially between the years 1831
and 1846, and even appearing during the last struggle
of the Californians and Mexicans ao^ainst United

o

States occupation. Till now, though the surefios and
nortenos were equally represented in the contemporary
records obtained, yet too much of the modern dictated
testimony had described those occurrences from the
northern, or Monterey and Sonoma, points of view.
Men and women still lived in the south who had
taken an active part in or had been witnesses of
those troubles ; and from them more or less unbiassed
accounts might be obtained. Others possessed knowl-
edge derived from their sires, and old documents
worth securing from the careless hands which had de-
stroyed so many.

Mr Savage accordingly, well provided with letters,
took passage the 6th of October 1877 on board the
steamer Senator, which carried him to Santa Monica,
whence he proceeded to Los Angeles, and was soon
at work upon the dictation of Pio Pico, formerly
governor of California, carrying on at the same time
the examination and copying of the papers of Ignacio
Coronel and Manuel Requena. To these experiences
original documents were added, some from the estate
of Andres Pico; from J. J.Warner the manuscript
volume of his Recollections was obtained. Papers
and reminiscences were further obtained from Pedro
Carrillo and Jose Lugo. To Antonio F. Coronel Mr
Savage expressed the highest obligations; also to
Governor Downey and Judge Sepulveda. Bishop
Mora, under instructions from Bishop Amat, loaned
Mr Savage twelve manuscript books, permitted him
free access to the episcopal archives, and furnished

526 HISTORIC RESEARCHES IN THE SOUTH.

him a letter authorizing all priests within the diocese
in charge of mission records to allow him to make
such extracts from them as he might desire.

To the mission of San Gabriel Mr Savage pro-
ceeded in the latter part of November, and found
Father Bot most obliging. Hereabout dictations were
obtained from Benjamin D. Wilson, Victoriano Vega,
and Amalia Perez, stewardess of the mission, and well
informed upon mission life, habits of the padres, and
manners and customs of the Californians.

Spadra next, and a dictation from old Pablo Vejar,
famous in mihtary mutinies, for which he had been
sent a prisoner to Mexico. Escaping thence, he re-
turned, fought the Americans at San Pascual, and
was taken prisoner; once rich, he was now ashamed
to ask Mr Savage into his hovel. Then Pomona, to
see the Englishman Michael White, who came to the
coast in 1817, and settled in Alta California in 1828.
Thence Mr Savage returned to San Gabriel. At Los
Nietos was seen Jose Maria Bomero, a Californian
of ninety; at San Juan Capistrano the mission books;
then followed a dictation from John Foster of Santa
Margarita rancho, an examination of the mission
books at San Luis Bey, and more dictations from
Juan Avila and Michael Kraszewski, and Christmas
had come. At San Diego, Juana Osuna and Jose
Maria Estudillo furnished information. Fortunately
the widow of Moreno, government secretary under
Pico, was at San Diego, where she had brought from
lower California a trunk filled with the papers of
her late husband, who used to endorse even ordinary
letters "A mi archive, apuntes para la historia." It
seems here was another dreaming of history- writing.
'' The papers are indeed interesting in an historical
point of view," says Mr Savage, who so ingratiated
himself with the widow as to gain access to the
trunk; '^Moreno had not only been secretary in upper
California, but had taken part in the war against the
United States in 1846, and for several years was

MR CHAXJNCEY HAYES. 527

the gefe politico of the region called the northern
frontier of Lower California." Senora Moreno re-
turned to her rancho at Guadalupe, leaving her docu-
ments in the possession of Mr Savage.

Narciso Botello was a man of character, and though
now poor, had held many important positions, as an
active participant in public affairs from 1833 to 1847.
He was induced to wait on Mr Savage at north San
Diego and give his experiences, which were rich in
historical events, manners and customs, education,
and judicial processes.

Throughout the entire expedition Mr Savage w^as
untiring in his efforts, which were not always attended
by encouraging success. But fortune smiled on him
during this January of 1878, though the face of the
sun was clouded and the roads in bad condition from
the rains. At the time of his death Judge Hayes
was deep in two large collections of documents which
he had shortly before obtained, one from Mr Alexander,
son-in-law of Requena, and the other from Coronel,
the former containing the valuable diary of Mr Melius.
All then fell into the hands of the son, Mr Chauncey
Hayes, who resided at his rancho, five miles from San
Luis Hey. From him Mr Savage, now on his home-
ward way, obtained ^^two cases pretty well crammed
with manuscripts and newspaper slips, every one of
which contained some information on the Californias
and on other parts of the Pacific coast. They were
taken to San Luis Rey under a heavy rain, which,
however, did no damage. After some carpentering, to
render the cases secure, I arranged for their convey-
ance to San Diego, thence to be shipped to San Fran-
cisco." Mr Savage does not forget the kindness of
Judge Egan, Doctor Crane, Pablo Pry or, Juan Avila,
Father Mut, and others.

Back to Los Angeles, and again en route, armed
with a letter from the best of our southern friends,
Judge Sepulveda, to Ignacio del Valle. A warm wel-
come, a dictation, and all the documents the place

528 HISTORIC RESEARCHES IN THE SOUTH.

afforded, followed a hard ride to the famous rancho of
Camulos. Father Farrelly, the parish priest at San
Buenaventura, was a jolly good fellow, as well as a
kind-hearted gentleman. Besides extracts from the
mission books here obtained, were the reminiscences
of Jose Arnaz, Bamon Valdes, and others.

The 1st of March, at Santa Barbara, Mr Savage
joined Mr Murray, then engaged on the De la Guerra
papers, kindly loaned him by Mr Dibblee, adminis-
trator of the estate. From early morning until far
into the night, Sundays and other days, Mr Savage
was soon engaged on the mission books, public and
private documents, and in taking dictations from Mrs
Ord, one of the De la Guerra daughters, Agustin
Janssens, Apolinaria Lorenzana, and Bafael Gonzalez.
Small but very valuable collections of papers were
received from Concepcion Pico, sister of Governor
Pico, and Dolores Dominguez, the two ladies being
the widows of Domingo and Jose Carrillo. Many
family archives had here by foolish heirs been wilfully
burned or used for making cigarettes. ''The results
in Santa Bdrbara," Mr Savage writes, "from March
2d to April 4th were about four hundred pages of
dictations, over two thousand documents, and two
hundred pages of manuscript from the mission books.
Much time was spent in vain search for papers not
existing." Subsequently Mr Murray obtained dicta-
tions from the American pioneers of that locality,
notably from the old trapper Nidever, who came
overland to California in 1832.

The usually thorough researches of Mr Savage
met with some disappointment at San Luis Obispo,
though, through the courteousness of Father Boussel,
the widow^ Bonilla, Charles Dana, Maria Inocente Pico,
widow of Miguel Avila, and Jose de Jesus Pico, the
results were important. These all did much. Inocente
Garcia also gave one hundred and ten pages, and
Canute Boronda and Ignacio Ezquer valuable con-
tributions. The very interesting diary of Walter

FURTHER EFFORTS BY MR SAVAGE. 529

Murray was kindly loaned by his widow. On a fear-
ful stormy niglit, at the risk of his life, driven to it
by circumstances, Mr Savage, accompanied by Jose
de Jesus Pico, visited the rancho of Senora de Avila
in the interests of history, and there received every
kindness.

I have not the space in this chapter to follow
Mr Savage further. Many journeys he made for
the library, and encountered many experiences; and
great were the benefits to history, to California, arising
therefrom. Though less ostentatious than some, his
abilities were not surpassed by any. In the written
narrative given me of his several adventures, which
is full of interesting incidents and important histori-
cal explanations, the keenest disappointment is man-
ifested over failures; nevertheless his success was
gratifying, and can never be repeated. During the re-
mainder of this expedition, which lasted eight months,
ending at San Francisco early in June, Mr Savage
secured to the library, the collections of Cd^rlos Olvera
of Chualar, and Rafael Pinto of Watsonville, "con-
taining so much valuable matter," Mr Savage says,
"that the history of California would not have been
complete without them." Pinto was collector of the
port at San Francisco at the time of the American
occupation; he also gave his reminiscences.

Mr Savage did not cease his present efforts until
the missions of San Pafael, San Jose, and San Fran-
cisco were searched, and material extracted from the
state library at Sacramento. The old archives at
the offices of the secretary of state, and county clerk,
at Sacramento, were likewise examined, and notes
taken from the several court records.

lilX. IlTD. 34

CHAPTER XXII.

HISTORIC EXPLORATIONS NORTHWARD.

It is undeniable that the exercise of a creative power, that a free creative
activity, is the highest function of man; it is proved to be so by man's
finding in it his true happiness. ^^^^^^ ^^^^^^_

In company with Mrs Bancroft, on the 30th of
April 1878 I sailed in the steamer City of Panama,
Captain William Seabury, for Vancouver Island, with
the view of returning by land. After ^yq days and
nights of tempestuous buffetings, though without
special discomfort, we safely landed at Esquimalt, and
drove over to Victoria, three miles distant. We found a
good hotel, the Driard house, and a gentlemanly host,
Louis Redon. The day was Sunday, and though old
ocean yet billowed through our brain and lifted our
feet at every step — or, perhaps, because we were thus
dogged by Neptune even after treading firm land —
we decided to attend church.

On setting out from the hotel we met Mr Edgar
Marvin, who accompanied us to Christ church, where
the bishop presided over the cathedral service. Next
day Mr Marvin introduced me to several persons
whom I wished to see; and throughout our entire
stay in Victoria he was unceasing in his kindness
Mr T. N. Hibben, an old and esteemed friend, to-
gether with his highly intelligent wife, were early
and frequent in their attentions. Then there were
Sir Matthew B. Begbie, Dr Ash, the honorable
A. C. Elliott, Lady Douglas, Mr and Mrs Harris,
Governor and Mrs Richards, and a host of others.
Though he did not affect literature, Sir Matthew

(630)

BRITISH COLUMBIA. 531

was thoroughly a good fellow, and no one in British
Columbia exercised a more beneficial or a greater po-
litical and social influence; in fact, I may as well say
at the outset that nowhere have I ever encountered
kinder appreciation or more cordial and continued
hospitality than here. Invitations so poured in upon
us as seriously to interfere with my labors, and greatly
to prolong our stay. I found it impossible to decline
proffers of good- will so heartily made; and no less
interest was manifested in furthering the object which
had taken me there than in hospitable entertainment.

To examine public archives and private papers, to
extract such portions as were useful in my work, to
record and carry back with me the experiences of
those who had taken an active part in the discovery
and occupation of the country — these, together with
a desire to become historically inspired with the spirit
of settlement throughout the great north-west, con-
stituted the burden of my mission.

Engaging two assistants on Monday, the next day,
Tuesday, I sat down to work in earnest. One of these
assistants, Mr Thomas H. Long, I found a valuable
man. The other I discharged at the end of a week.
Afterward I tried two more, both of whom failed.
The province was in the agonies of a general election,
necessitated by the dissolution of the assembly by
the governor, on the ground that the Elliott govern-
ment, as it was called, was not sufficiently strong to
carry out its measures. Unfortunately the old Hud-
son's Bay Company men, whom of all others I wished
historically to capture, were many of them politi-
cians. Composed to a great extent of tough, shrewd,
clear-headed Scotchmen, the fur company's ancient
servants were now the wealthy aristocrats of the
province; and although they loved their country well,
and were glad to give me every item respecting their
early adventures, the}^ loved office also, and would by
no means neglect self-interest. But I was persistent.
I was determined never to leave the province until

532 HISTORIC EXPLORATIONS NORTHWARD.

my cravings for information should be satisfied, and to
obtain the necessary information at as early a day as
possible.

The governor was absent fishing, and would not re-
turn for a week. Mr Elliott, the provincial secretary,
was affable, but exceedingly occupied in the endeavor
to rise again upon his political legs. He quickly gave
me all printed government matter, but when it came
to an examination of the archives he manifested no
particular haste. His deputy, Mr Thomas Elwyn,
offered access to everything in his office, but assured
me that it contained nothing, since all the material
which could in any wise throw light on history was
in the house of the governor. None of the archives
had been removed to Ottawa on confederating with
Canada^ as I had been informed.

When the governor, Mr Richards, as the people of
this province called him, returned, I immediately
waited upon him and made known my wishes. He
was a plain, farmer-like man, with deep, bright, clear
eyes and large brain, but by no means strikingly intel-
lectual in appearance, though as much so, perhaps,
as many of our own officials. He was a compara-
tive stranger, he said, sent there from Canada; knew
little regarding the documents in the governor's office,
and proposed that a minute-in-council be passed by
the provincial government in order to invest him
with the requisite authority to open to me the gov-
ernment archives. Addressing a letter to Mr Elliott
asking the passage of such a measure, he put me off
once more.

Now Mr Elliott was prime minister, and his asso-
ciates being absent he was the government, and had
only to write out and enter the order to make it valid.
I knew very well, and so did they, first, that the
governor required no such order, and secondly, that
Mr Elliott could write it as easily as talk about it.

After a day or two lost by these evasions, I deter-
mined to bring the matter to a crisis. These north-

VERY SMALL GREAT MEN. 533

western magnates must be awakened to a sense of
duty; they must be induced to give me immediate
access to the government archives or refuse, and the
latter course I not beheve they would adopt. Meet-
ing Mr Elliott on the street shortly after, I said to
him:

''The benighted republics of Central America not
only throw open their records to the examination of
the historian, but appoint a commissioner to gather
and abstract material. It can hardly be possible that
any English-speaking government should throw ob-
struction in the way of laudable historical effort."

The minister's apologies were ample, and the order
came forth directly. But the order did not suit the
governor, who returned it and required in its place
another, differently worded; and this at last given
him he required that his secretary, the honorable
Mr Boyle, a most affable, but somewhat needy and
wholly inexperienced, young man, should alone have
the making of the copies and abstracts, always, of
course, at my expense.

Meanwhile every spare moment was occupied in
brino^ino^ forward the ancients of this reo^ion, and in
obtaining information from any and all sources. There
were many good writers, many who had written essays,
and even books. To instance : Mr G. M. Sproat, who
drew up for me a skeleton of British Columbia history,
according to his conception of it; Mr J. D. Pember-
ton, formerly private secretary of Sir James Douglas,
and author of a work on British Columbia, who not
only brought me a large package of printed material,
but gave me some most valuable information in writing,
and used his influence with Doctor Helmcken, the
eccentric son-in-law of Sir James, and executor of the
Douglas estate, to obtain for me the private books
and papers in the possession of the family; Dr John
Ash likewise wrote for me and gave me material,
as did Thomas Elwyn, deputy provincial secretary,
Arthur Wellesley Vowel, and Mr Elliott; from P.

534 HISTORIC EXPLORATIONS NORTHWARD.

N. Compton, Michael Muir, Alexander Allen, James
Deans, and others, I obtained dictations. But most
valuable of all were the reminiscences, amounting in
some instances to manuscript volumes, and consti-
tuting histories more or less complete, of New Cale-
donia and the great north-west, the recollections of
those who had spent their lives within this territory,
who had occupied imjDortant positions of honor and
trust, and were immediately identified not only with
the occupation and settlement of the country but
with its subsequent progress. Among these were A.
C. Anderson, W. F. Tolmie, Roderick Finlayson,
Archibald McKinlay, and others, men of mind, able
writers some of them, and upon whose shoulders,
after the records of Sir James Douglas, the diaries
of chief factors, and the government and Hudson's
Bay Company's , archives, must rest the history of
British Columbia.

James M. Douglas, son of Sir James, whose mar-
riage with the daughter ©f Mr Elliott we had the
pleasure of attending, granted me free and willing
access to all the family books and papers. "Ah!"
said everybody, "you should have come before Sir
James died. He would have rendered you assistance
in value beyond computation." So it is too often
with these old men; their experiences and the benefit
thereof to posterity are prized after they are beyond
reach.

Lady Douglas was yet alive, and, though a half-
breed, was quite the lady. Her daughters were charm-
ing ; indeed, it were next to impossible for the wife and
daughters of Sir James Douglas to be other than ladies.
Scarcely so much could truthfully be said of the sons
of some other fur magnates, who as a rule were both
idiotic and intemperate. Young Douglas, though
kind and polite in the extreme, did not impress me
as possessing extraordinary intelligence or energy.
So in the family of Chief Factor Worth: the Indian
wife, in body and mind, was strong and elastic as steel,

QUITE A MIXED SOCIETY. 535

and while the daughters were virtuous and amiable,
the sons were less admirable.

The honorable Amor de Cosmos, ne Smith, the his-
toric genius of the place, was absent attending the
legislature in Canada. He was one of two brothers
who conducted the Standard newspaper, and dabbled
in politics and aspired to history- writing. One of these
brothers was known as plain Smith; the other had
had his name changed by the legislature of California.
It was some time before I could realize that the man
thus playing a practical joke on his own name was not
a buffoon.

Mr William Charles, at this time director of the
Hudson's Bay Company's affairs at Victoria, gave me
much information, and among other things a journal
of the founders of Fort Langley while journeying
from Fort Vancouver and establishing a new fort on
Fraser river. The record covered a period of three
years, from 1827 to 1829. Mr Charles also sent to
Fort Simpson for the records of that important post,
and forwarded them to me after my return to San
Francisco.

From George Hills, bishop of Columbia, I obtained
copies of missionary reports giving much new knowl-
edge of various parts. ]Mr Stanhope Farwell of the
Victoria land office gave me a fine collection of maps
and charts of that vicinity. Through the courtesy
of John Robson, paymaster of the Canadian Pacific
railway survey, Victoria, and William Buckingham
of the office of the minister of public works, Ottawa,
the printed reports of the survey were sent me from
Canada. F. J. Roscoe in like manner furnished me
with the Canadian blue-books, or printed public docu-
ments of British America. These, together with the
blue-books found in the public offices at Victoria,
and other official and general publications, boxed and
shipped to San Francisco from that port, formed ex-
tensive and important additions to my library,

Mrs Bancroft begged permission to assist, and took

536 HISTORIC EXPLORATIONS NORTHWARD.

from one person, a missionary, the Rev. Mr Good,
one hundred and twenty foolscap pages descriptive of
the people and country round the upper Fraser. In
Mr Anderson's narrative, which was very fine, she
took special interest, and during our stay in Victoria
she accomplished more than any one engaged in the
work. Writing in her journal of Mr Good she says:
"His descriptions of scenery and wild life are re-
markable for vividness and beauty of expression. His
graphic pictures so fascinated me that I felt no weari-
ness, and was almost unconscious of effort."

It was like penetrating regions beyond the world
for descriptions of scenes acted on the other side
of reality, this raking up the white-haired remnants of
the once powerful but now almost extinct organiza-
tion. There Avas old John Tod, tall, gaunt, with a
mouth like the new moon, which took kindly to gin
and soda, though Tod was not intemperate. He
called himself eighty-four, and was clear-headed and
sprightly at that, though his friends insisted he was
nearer ninety-four. The old fur-factor lived about
four miles from the city, and regularly everyday, in a
flaring cap wdth huge ears, and driving a bony bay
hitched to a single, high-seated, rattling, spring wagon,
he made his appearance at our hotel, and said his say.
While speaking he must not be questioned; he must
not be interrupted. Sitting in an arm-chair, leaning
on his cane, or walking up and down the room, his
deep-set eyes blazing with the renewed fire of old-
time excitements, his thin hair standing in electric
attention, he recited with rapidity midst furious ges-
ticulations story after story, one scene calling up
another, until his present was wet with the sweat of
the past.

Archibald McKinlay was another, a really brave and
estimable character, and a man who had filled with
honor to himself and profit to the Hudson's Bay Com-
pany many responsible positions, but, while younger
than Mr Tod, he was not possessed of so unclouded a

TOD, McKINLAY, TOLMIE, FINLAYSON. 537

memory or so facile a tongue. The whiskey he drank
was stronger than Mr Tod's gin. He knew enough,
but could not tell it. '^ If it's statistical ye want
I'll give 'em to ye," he would bring out every few
minutes, ^' but I'll have nothing to do with personali-
ties." When I hinted to him that history w^as made
by persons and not by statistics, he retorted: "Well,
I'll write something for ye." He had much to say
of Peter Skeen Ogden, whose half-breed daughter he
had married. The first evening after our arrival he
brought his wife to see us, and seemed very proud
of her. He w^as really anxious to communicate his
experiences, coming day after day to do so, but failing
from sheer lack of tongue. He once interrupted
Mr Tod, disputing some date, and the old gentleman
never forgave him. Never after that, while McKinlay
was in the room, would Mr Tod open his mouth,
except to admit the gin and soda.

Doctor W. F. Tolmie, who had been manager of
the Puget Sound agricultural company, and subse-
quently chief factor at Victoria, w^as of medium height,
but so stoutly built as to seem short, with a large
bald head, broad face and features, florid complexion,
and small blue eyes, which, through their corners
and apparently without seeing anything, took in all
the world. He had been well educated in Europe,
was clever, cunning, and withal exceedingly Scotch.
Tolmie knew much, and could tell it; indeed, he did
tell much, but only what he pleased. Nevertheless I
found him one of my most profitable teachers in the
doings of the past; and when I left Victoria he in-
trusted me with his journal kept while descending
the Columbia river in 1833 and for four years there-
after, which he prized very highly.

Roderick Finlayson, mayor of Victoria, and founder
of the fort there, was a magnificent specimen of the
old-school Scotch gentleman. Upon a fine figure was
well set a fine head, slightly bald, with grayish-white
hair curled in tight, short ringlets round and behind

538 HISTORIC EXPLORATIONS NORTHWARD.

a most pleasing, benignant face. His beard was short
and thick, in color brown and gray, well mixed. He
tasted temperately of the champagne I placed before
him, while Tolmie, who was totally abstinent for ex-
ample's sake in the presence of his boys, prescribed
himself liberal doses of brandy. The Rev. Mr Good,
I think, enjoyed the brandy and cigars which were
freely placed at his command fully as much as con-
struing elegant sentences. Preferring to write rather
than to dictate, Mr Finlayson gave me from his own
pen in graphic detail many of the most stirring inci-
dents in the history of British Columbia.

But more than to any other in Victoria, I feel my-
self indebted to Mr A. C. Anderson, a man not only
of fine education, but of marked literary ability. Of
poetic temperament, chivalrous in thought as well as
in carriage, of acute observation and retentive memory,
he proved to be the chief and standard authority on
all matters relating to the country. He had published
several works of value and interest, and was uni-
versally regarded as the most valuable living witness
of the past. Tall, symmetrical, and very erect, with a
long narrow face, ample forehead, well brushed white
hair, side whiskers, and keen, light-blue eyes, he
looked the scholar he was. Scarcely allowing himself
an interruption, he devoted nearly two weeks to my
work with such warm cheerfulness and gentlemanly
courtesy as to win our hearts. Besides this, he brought
me much valuable material in the form of record-
books and letters. He took luncheon with us every
day, smoked incessantly, and drank brandy and soda
temperately.

Helmcken was a queer one; small in stature, but
compactly built, with short black hair and beard,
thickly sprinkled with gray, covering a round hard
head, with clear eyes of meaningless, measureless
depth, nose rose-red, and the stump of a cigar always
stuck between tobacco-stained teeth — this for a head
and body placed on underpinning seemingly insecure,

WASHINGTON. 539

SO as to give one the impression of a rolling, uncertain
walk as well as manner, and added to most peculiar
speech larded with wise saws and loud laughter, could
be likened only to a philosopher attempting to ape the
fool. One day he came rushing into our parlor at the
hotel in a state of great excitement, so much so that
he forgot to remove either his hat or cigar stub, giving
Mrs Bancroft the impression that he was decidedl}^
drunk, and demanded to be shown the papers delivered
me by Lady Douglas and Mrs Harris. '' They had
no business to let them out of their hands!" he ex-
claimed. '' Where are they?" I shoAved them to him,
explained their value and application to history, and as-
sured him they would be speedily copied and returned.
Smiles then slowly wreathed the red face; the eyes
danced, the hat came off, and loud laughter attended
the little man's abrupt disappearance.

I could write a volume on what I saw and did
during this visit of about a month at Victoria, but I
must hasten forward. After a gentlemen's dinner at
Sir Matthew's ; a grand entertainment at Mr Marvin's ;
several visits from and to Lady Douglas, Mrs Harris,
Doctor and Mrs Ash, and many other charming calls
and parties; and a hundred promises, not one in
ten of which were kept; leaving Mr Long to finish
copying the Douglas papers, the Fraser papers, the
Work journals, and the manuscripts furnished by
Anderson, Finlayson, Tod, Spence, Vowel, and others;
after a voyage to New Westminster, and after lending
our assistance in celebrating the Queen's birthday, on
the last day of May we crossed to Port Town send,
having completed one of the hardest months of recrea-
tion I ever experienced. But long before this I had
reached the conclusion that while this work lasted
there was no rest for me.

At every move a new field opened. At Port Town-
send, which in its literary perspective presented an
aspect so forbidding that I threatened to pass it by

540 HISTORIC EXPLORATIONS NORTHWARD.

without stopping, I was favored with the most for-
tunate results. Judge James G. Swan, ethnologist,
artist, author of Three Years at Shoalwater Bay, and
divers Smithsonian monographs and newspaper ar-
ticles, was there ready to render me every assistance,
which he did by transferring to me his collection, the
result of thirty years' labor in that direction, and sup-
plementing his former writing by other and unwritten
experiences. Poor fellow I The demon Drink had
long held him in his terrible toils, and when told that
I was in town he swore he would first get sober be-
fore seeing me. How many thousands of our pioneer
adventurers have been hastened headlong to perdi-
tion by the hellish comforter I Major J. J. H. Van
Bokkelen was there, and after giving me his dictation
presented to Mrs Bancroft a valuable collection of
Indian relics, which he had been waiting twenty years,
as he said, to place in the hands of some one who
would appreciate them. There we saw Mr Pettigrove,
one of the founders of Portland; Mr Plummer, one
of the earliest settlers at Port Townsend; W. G.
Spencer, N. D. Hill, John L. Butler, Henry A.
Webster, and L. H. Briggs, from all of whom I ob-
tained additions to my historical stores. Dr Thomas
T. Minor entertained us handsomely, and showed me
through his hospital, which was a model of neatness
and comfort. He obtained from Samuel Hancock of
Coupeville, Whidbey island, a voluminous manu-
script, which was then at the east seeking a publisher.
James S. Lawson, captain of the United States coast
survey vessel Fauntleroy, took us on board his ship
and promised to write for me a history of western
coast survey, the fulfilment of which reached me
some six months after in the form of a very complete
and valuable manuscript. Here, likewise, I encoun-
tered Amos Bowman, of Anacortes, Fidalgo island,
whom I engaged to accompany me to Oregon and
take dictations in short-hand. Bowman was a scientific
adventurer of the Bliss type. He remained with me

ELWOOD EVANS. 541

until my northern work as far south as Salem was
done, when he proceeded to San Francisco and took
his place for a time in the library. He was a good
stenographer, but not successful at literary work.

After a visit to Fort Townsend, upon the invita-
tion of William Gouverneur Morris, United States
revenue agent, we continued our way to Seattle,
the commercial metropolis of the territory. Three
thousand lethargic souls at this date comprised the
town, with a territorial university and an eastern
railroad as aspirations. There we met Yesler, saw-
mill owner and old man of the town; and Horton, who
drove us through the forest to the lake; and Mercer,
Lansdale, Arthur Denny, Booth, Hill, Spencer, and
Haller, from each of whom we obtained valuable
information. Mrs Abby J. Hanford subsequently
sent me an interesting paper on early times at
Seattle. There also I met the pioneer express-
man of both California and British Columbia, Billy
Ballou, a rare adventurer, and in his way a genius,
since dead, like so many others. Had I time and
space, a characteristic picture might be made of his
peculiarities.

The North Pacijic^ a neat little steamboat, had
carried us across from Victoria to Port Townsend,
where the Dakota picked us up for Seattle; thence,
after two days' sojourn, we embarked for Olympia on
board the Messenger, Captain Parker, an early boat-
man on these waters. When fairly afloat I took my
stenographer to the wheel-house, and soon were spread
upon paper the striking scenes in the life of Captain
Parker, who, as our little craft shot through the glassy
forest-fringed inlet, recited his history in a clear intel-
ligent manner, together with many points of interest
descriptive of our charming surroundings.

On board the Messenger was Captain EUicott of the
United States coast survey, who invited us to land

542 HISTORIC EXPLORATIONS NORTHWARD.

at his camp, some ten miles before reaching Olympia,
and spend the night, which we did, touching first at
Tacoma and Steilacoom. After an excellent dinner,
Bowman wrote from the captain's notes until eleven
o'clock, when we retired, and after an early breakfast
next morning the captain's steam yacht conveyed us
to the capital of the territory.

Immediately upon our arrival at Olympia we
were waited upon by the governor and Mrs Ferry,
Elwood Evans, historian of this section, Mrs Evans,
and others among the chief ladies and gentlemen
of the place. Mr Evans devoted the whole of two
days to me, drew forth from many a nook and corner
the musty records of the past, and placed the whole
of his material at my disposal.

"I had hoped," said he, ''to do this work myself,
but your advantages are so superior to mine that I
cheerfully yield. I only wish to see the information
I have gathered during the last thirty years properly
used, and that I know will in your hands be done."

And so the soul of this man's ambition, in the
form of two large cases of invaluable written and
printed matter on the Northwest Coast, was shipped
down to my library, of which it now constitutes an
important part. To call such a one generous is faint
praise. Then, as well as before and after, his warm
encouraging words, and self-sacrificing devotion to me
and my work, won my lasting gratitude and affection.

At Portland we found ready to assist us, by every
means in their power, many warm friends, among
whom were S. F. Chadwick, then governor of Oregon;
Matthew P. Deadj, of the United States judiciary;
William Strong, one of the first appointees of the
federal government, after the treaty, as judge of the
supreme court; Mrs Abernethy, widow of the first
provisional governor of Oregon, and Mrs Harvey,
daughter of Doctor McLoughlin, and formerly wife of
William Glenn Rae, who had charge of the Hudson's
Bay Company's affairs, first at Stikeen and afterward

OREGON. 543

at Yerba Buena. Colonel Sladen, aide-de-camp to Gen-
eral Howard, who was absent fighting Indians, not
only threw open to me the archives of the military
department, but directed his clerks to make such ab-
stracts from them as I should require. Old Elisha
White, the first Indian and government agent in
Oregon, I learned was in San Francisco. On my re-
turn I immediately sought him out, and had before
his death, which shortly followed, many long and
profitable interviews with him. I should not fail to
mention Governor Gibbs, General Hamilton, Stephen
Coffin, Mrs J. H. Couch, Mr McCraken, H. Clay
Wood, Mr Corbett, George H. Atkinson, Simeon
Keed, W. Lair Hill, and H. W. Scott of the Orego-
nian. R. P. Earhart kindly supplied me with a set of
the Oregon grand lodge proceedings. In company
with Dr J. C. Hawthorne we visited his insane asylum,
a model of neatness and order. General Joseph Lane,
hero of the Mexican war and many northern Indian
battles, first territorial governor of Oregon, and first
delegate from the territory to congress, I met first at
Portland and took a dictation from him in the parlor
of the Clarendon hotel, at which we were staying,
and subsequently obtained further detail at his home
at Poseburg. J. N. Dolph wrote Mr Gray, the
historian, who lived at Astoria, to come to Portland
to see me, but he was not at home, and my business
with him had to be done by letter. Mrs F. F. Victor,
whose writings on Oregon were by far the best extant,
and whom I wished much to see, was absent on the
southern coast gathering information for the revision
of her Oregon and Washington. On my return to
San Francisco I wrote offering her an engagement in
my library, which she accepted, and for years proved
one of my most faithful and efficient assistants.
Father Blanchet was shy and suspicious: I was not
of his fold; but as his wide range of experiences was
already in print it made little difference.

We had been but a few hours in this beautiful and

544 HISTORIC EXPLORATIONS NORTHWARD.

hospitable city when we were informed that the annual
meeting of the Oregon pioneers' association was to
open immediately in Salem. Dropping our work at
Portland, to be resumed later, we proceeded at once
to the capital, and entered upon the most profitable
five days' labor of the entire trip; for there we found
congregated from the remotest corners of the state
the very men and women we most wished to see, those
who had entered that region when it was a wilderness,
and had contributed the most important share toward
making the society and government what it was. Thus
six months of ordinary travel and research were com-
pressed within these five days.

I had not yet registered at the Chemeketa hotel
in Salem when J. Henry Brown, secretary of the
pioneers' association, presented himself, at the in-
stance of Governor Chadwick, and offered his services.
He was a fair type of the average Oregonian, a printer
by trade, and poor; not particularly pleasing in ap-
pearance, somewhat slovenly in his dress, and in-
different as to the length and smoothness of his hair.
I found him a diamond in the rough, and to-day there
is no man in Oregon I more highly esteem. He knew
everybody, introduced me and my mission to every-
body, drummed the town, and made appointments
faster than I could keep them, even by dividing my
force and each of us taking one. He secured for me
all printed matter which I lacked. He took me to the
state archives, and promised to make a transcript of
them. I paid him a sum of money down, for which
he did more than he had bargained.

It was a hot and dusty time we had of it, but we
worked with a will, day and night; and the notes there
taken, under the trees and in the buildings about
the fair-grounds, at the hotel, and in private parlors
and offices, made a huge pile of historic lore when
written out as it was on our return to San Fran-
cisco. There was old Daniel Waldo, who, though
brought by infirmity to time's border, still stoutly

THE GOOD PEOPLE OF SALEM. 545

stumped his porch and swore roundly at everything
and everybody between the Atlantic and Pacific.
There was the mild missionary Parrish, ^vho in bring-
ing the poor Indian the white man's religion and civ-
ilization, strove earnestly but fruitlessly to save him
from the curses of civilization and religion. There
w^as John Minto, eloquent as a speaker and writer,
with a wife but little his inferior: the w^omen, indeed,
spoke as freely as the men when gathered round the
camp fires of the Oregon pioneers' association. For
example : Mrs Minto had to tell how women lived, and
labored, and suffered, and died, in the early days of
Oregon; how they clothed and housed themselves,
or, rather, how they did without houses and clothes
during the first wet winters of their sojourn; how
an admiring young shoemaker had measured the im-
press of her maiden feet in the mud, and sent her as a
present her first Oregon shoes. Mrs Samuel A. Clarke
took a merry view of things, and called crossing the
plains in 1851 a grand picnic. J. Quinn Thornton,
with his long grizzly hair and oily tongue was
there, still declaiming against Jesse Applegate for
leading him into Oregon by the then untried southern
route thirty years before. Still, though somewhat
crabbed and unpopular among his fellow -townsmen.
Judge Thornton rendered important service by trans-
ferring to me valuable material collected by him for
literary purposes, for he too had affected history,
but was now becoming somewhat infirm. David
Newsome knew something, he said, but would tell it
only for money. I assured David that the country
would survive his silence. Mr Clarke, with his
amiable and hospitable wife and daughters, spared no
pains to make our visit pleasing as well as profitable.
Senator Grover was in Washington, but I caught
him afterward in San Francisco as he was passing
through, and obtained from him a lengthy and valu-
able dictation. General Joel Palmer told me all he
could remember, but his mind was evidently failing.

Lit. Inx>. 35

546 HISTORIC EXPLORATIONS NORTHWARD.

James W. Nesmith related to me several anecdotes,
and afterward sent me a manuscript of his own
writing. The contribution of Medorem Crawford
was important. Among the two or three hundred
prominent Oregonians I met at Salem I can only
mention further Richard H. Ekin, Horace Holden,
Joseph Holman, W. J. Herren, and H. H. Gilfry, of
Salem; W. H. Rees, ButteviUe; B. S. Clark, Cham-
poeg; William L. Adams, Hood River; B. S. Wilson,
Corvallis; Joseph Watts, Amity; George B. Roberts,
Cathlamet; R. C. Gear, Silverton; Thomas Cong-
don, Eugene City; B. S. Strahan, and Thomas Mon-
teith, Albany; and Shamus Carnelius, Lafayette.
Philip Ritz of Walla Walla gave me his dictation in
San Francisco.

On our way back to Portland we stopped at Ore-
gon City, the oldest town in the state, where I met
and obtained recitals from S. W. Moss, A. L. Love-
joy, and John M. Bacon, and arranged with W. H.
H. Fonts to copy the archives. I cannot fail, before
leaving Portland, specially to mention the remarkable
dictations given me by Judge Deady and Judge
Strong, each of which, with the authors' writings
already in print, constitutes a history of Oregon in
itself Indeed, both of these gentlemen had threat-
ened to write a history of Oregon.

After a flying visit to the Dalles, overland by rail
from Portland to San Francisco was next in order, with
private conveyance over the Siskiyou mountains. It
was a trip I had long w^ished to make, and we enjoyed
every hour of it. I have not space for details. We
stopped at many places, saw many men, and gathered
much new material. At Drain we remained one day
to see Jesse Applegate, and he spent the entire time
with us. He was a remarkable person, in some re-
spects the foremost man in Oregon during a period
of twenty years. In him were united the practical
and the intellectual in an eminent degree. He could
explore new regions, lay out a farm, and write essays

JESSE APPLEGATE. 547

with equal facility. He was political economist, me-
chanic, or historian, according to requirement. His
fatal mistake, like that of many another warm-hearted
and chivalrous man, was, as he expressed it, in "sign-
ing his name once too often." But though the pay-
ment of the defaulter's bond sent him in poverty into
the hills of Yoncalla, he was neither dispirited nor
dyspeptic. At seventy, with his active and intellectual
life, so lately full of flattering probabilities, a financial
failure, his eye was as bright, his laugh as unaflfected
and merry, his form as erect and graceful, his step as
elastic, his conversation as brilliant, his realizing sense
of nature and humanity as keen, as at forty. Never
shall I forget that day, nor the friendship that grew
out of it.

The veteran Joseph Lane I found somewhat more
difficult of management in his home at Roseburg than
at Portland. Congressional honors were on his brain,
fostered therein by his friend Applegate. Then he
was troubled by his son Lafayette, who though some-
what silly was by no means without ability. The
father wished the son to aid him in writing his history
for me. The son would promise everything and per-
form nothing. Nevertheless, in due time, by persist-
ent effort, I obtained from the general all I required.

At Jacksonville I sat through the entire night,
until my carriage called for me at break of day, taking
a most disgusting dictation from the old Indian-
butcher John E. Koss. This piece of folly I do not
record with pleasure.

I must conclude this narrative of my northern
journey with the mention of a few out of the several
scores I met on my way who took an active interest
in their history:

At Drain, besides Jesse Applegate, I saw James A.
Sterling, who was with Walker in Nicaragua, and
John C. Drain, the founder of the place. At Rose-
burg were A. R. Flint, L. F. Mosher, and others, and
at Ashland, 0. C Applegate. By reason of his per-

548 HISTORIC EXPLORATIONS NORTHWARD.

sonal devotion I will forgive my old friend B. F.
Dowell for employing his copyist, William Hoffman,
to write from a newspaper belonging to the historical
society of the place a sketch of fifty manuscript
pages, at a cost to me of thirty dollars. After I had
paid this exorbitant charge without a murmur, and
Dowell asked for more similar work for his protege,
I replied that historical information at Jacksonville
was too high for any but a ten-millionaire to indulge
in ; and that it was strange to me a town with public
spirit sufficient to boast an historical society should
make so great a mistake as unmercifully to fleece
one willing to spend time and money in giving it
a place in history. The fact is that, although as a
rule the men I met were intelligent enough properly
to appreciate my efforts, there were everywhere a
few who saw in them only mercenary motives, and
would impart their knowledge, or otherwise open to
me the avenue to their local affairs, only for a price.
On the strength of J. B. Rosborough's magnificent
promises I gave him a ream of paper and a set of
the Native Races, and received in return not a word.
This, however, was not so bad as the case of the
honorable Mr Justice Crease, of Victoria, and his man
Clayton, who besides a liberal supply of stationery se-
cured from me a sum of money for promised writing,
not a line of which was ever sent to me.

P. P. Prim, L. J. C. Duncan, J. M. McCalL
Lindsay Applegate, J. M. Sutton, Daniel Gaby,
William Bybee, David Lin, and James A. Cardwell
were also at Jacksonville. Then there were Anthony]
M. Sleeper, Joseph Bice, D. Beam, A. P. McCarton,]
Thomas A. Bantz, A. E. Baynes, F. G. Hearn,]
of Yreka; C. W. Taylor and Charles McDonald of
Shasta; Henry F. Johnson and Chauncey C. Bush]
of Beading, important names in the local history of]
their respective places. Mrs Laura Morton of thel
state library, Sacramento, very kindly copied for mej
the diary of her father, Philip L. Edwards.

DEPOSITS OF MATERIAL. 549

The 7th of July saw me again at my table at Oak-
ville. It was during the years immediately succeeding
the return from my expedition to the north that I
wrote the History of the Northwest Coast and the
History of British Columbia; Oregon and Alaska came
in later.

In reviewing this journey I would remark that I
found at the head-quarters of the honorable Hudson's
Bay Company in Victoria rooms full of old accounts,
books, and letters, and boxes and bins of papers re-
lating to the business of the company, and of its sev-
eral posts. The company's Oregon archives were
lodged here, and also those from the Hawaiian islands
and the abandoned posts of New Caledonia.

The office of the provincial secretary contained at
this time books and papers relative to the local affairs
of the government, but I found in them little of his-
torical importance. At the government house, in
the office of the governor's private secretary, was
richer material, in the shape of despatches between
the governors of British Columbia and Vancouver
island and the secretary of state for the colonies in
London and the governor-general of Canada. There
were likewise correspondence of various kinds, de-
spatches of the minister at Washington to the gov-
ernment here in 1856-70, papers relative to the San
Juan difficulty, the naval authorities at Esquimalt,
1859-71, letters from Admiral Moresby to Governor
Blanchard, and many miscellaneous records and papers
important to the historian.

Oregon's most precious material for history I found
in the heads of her hardy pioneers. The office of the
adjutant-general of the department of the Columbia
contained record -books and papers relative to the
affairs of the department which throw much light
on the settlement and occupation of the country.
There are letters-sent-books and letters-received-books
since 1858, containing instructions and advices con-

550 HISTORIC EXPLORATIONS NORTHWARD.

cerning the establishment of posts and the protection
of the people. The public library, Portland, con-
tained nothing worthy of special mention.

There was once much valuable material for history
in the Oregon state library at Salem, but in 1856 a
fire came and swept it away. The legislature passed
a law requiring a copy of every newspaper published
in the state to be sent to the State library, but the
lawyers came and cut into them so badly for notices
or any article they desired that finally the librarian
sold them to Chinamen for wrapping-paper — a shift-
less and short-sighted policy, I should say. It had
been the intention of the state to preserve them, but
as no money was appropriated for binding, they were
scattered and destroyed. At the time of my visit in
1878 there was little in the state library except
government documents and law-books.

In the rooms of the governor of Oregon were the
papers of the provisional government, and others
such as naturally accumulate in an executive office.
When I saw them they were in glorious disorder,
having been thrown loose into boxes without respect
to kind or quality. Engaging Mr J. Henry Brown
to make copies and abstracts of them for me, I stipu-
lated with him, for the benefit of the state, that he
should leave them properly classified and chronolog-
ically arranged. Mr Brown had made a collection
of matter with a view of writing a statistical work on
Oregon, and possessed a narrative of an expedition
under Joseph L. Meek, sent by the provisional gov-
ernment to Washington for assistance during the,
Indian war. He also had a file of the Oregonian,
A. Bush possessed a file of the Oregon Statesman.
From Mrs Abernethy I obtained a file of the Oregon\
Spectator, the first newspaper published in Oregon.
Mr Nesmith had a file of the journal last mentioned J
besides boxes of letters and papers.

The first printing-press ever brought to Oregon!
was sent to the Sandwich islands by the American

EARLY OREGON PRINTING. 551

board of commissioners for foreign missions, and was
used there for printing books in the Hawaiian lan-
guage; then, at the request of doctors Whitman and
Spaulding, it was transferred to Oregon, to the Nez
Perce mission on the Clearwater, now called the
Lapwai agency. This was in 1838. The press was
used for some time to print books in the Nez Perce
and Walla Walla lancruagfes, and at the time of mv
visit it stood in the state house at Salem, a rare
and curious relic, where also might be seen specimens
of its work under the titles: Nez-Perces First Book;
designed for children and new beginners. Clear
Water, Mission Press, 1839. This book was prepared
in the Nez Perce language, by the Rev. H. H.
Spaulding. Matthewnim Taaiskt. Printed at the press
of the Oregon Mission under the direction of Tlie
American Board, C. F. Missions. Clear Water: M.
G. Foisy, Printer — being the gospel of Matthew,
translated by H. H. Spaulding, and printed on eighty
pages, small 4to, double columns. Another title-page
was Talajncsajoaiain Wanipt Timas. Paid wah sailas
hiwanpshina Godnim ivatashitph. Luk. Kauo wan-
pith LoRDiPH timnald. Paul. Lap>wai: 1842 — which
belonged to a book of hymns prepared by H. H.
Spaulding in the Nez Perce language.

Before setting out on my northern journey I had
arranged with IMr PctrofF to visit Alaska, and con-
tinue the northward line of search where my investi-
gations should leave it, thus joining the great north-
west to southern explorations already effected.

In all my varied undertakings I have scarcely asked
a favor from any one. I never regarded it in the
light of personal favor for those having material for
history, or information touching the welfare of them-
selves, their family, or the state, to give it me to em-
body in my work. I always felt that the obligation
was all the other way; that my time was spent for
their benefit rather than for my own. As a matter

552 HISTORIC EXPLORATIONS NORTHWARD.

of course, my object was to benefit neither myself
primarily nor them, but to secure to the country a good
history.

From boyhood I have held the doctrine of Fenelon :
"I would like to oblige the whole human race, es-
pecially virtuous people; but there is scarcely any-
body to whom I would like to be under obligations."

And even among the many who contributed, there
was singular lack of consideration and cooperation. I
might go to any amount of trouble, spend any amount
of money, yet it never seemed to occur to them to
furnish me their dictation at their expense instead
of mine. Moneyed men of San Francisco have growled
to me by the hour about their great sacrifice of valu-
able time in telling me their experiences. And some
of them, instead of offering to pay the copyist, stipu-
lated that I should furnish them a copy of their dic-
tation, which they had been at so much trouble to
give. One man, a millionaire farmer, the happy owner
of forty thousand acres, with fifty houses on the place,
enough to accommodate an army, permitted one of
my men to pay his board at the hotel during a ten
days' dictation. This was thoughtlessness rather than
inherent meanness, for these men did not hesitate to
devote themselves to public good in certain directions,
particularly where some newspaper notoriety was to
be gained by it. It certainly required no little devo-
tion to the cause to spend my time and money in
thus forcing unappreciated benefits upon others.

Once only in the whole course of my literary labors
I asked free passage for one of my messengers on a
sea-going vessel: this was of the manager in San
Francisco of the Alaska Commercial company, and
it was curtly refused. I was drawn into this request
by the seeming friendliness of the man for me and
my work. He had gone out of his way to express
a willingness to assist me to material for the history
of Alaska; so that when Petroff*, who knew all about
Alaska, assured me of the existence there of valuable

PETROFF'S VISIT TO ALASKA. 553

material, I did not hesitate to ask a pass for him up
and back on one of the company's vessels. This un-
courteous refusal of so slight a request, aiming at the
largest public benefit, the burden of which rested
wholly upon me, the cost of Petroff's 2:)assage being
absolutely nothing to the company, struck me as very
peculiar in a man who had been once collector of the
port, and at that very moment was not unwilling to
spend and be spent for his country as United States
senator at Washington. However, we will rest sat-
isfied : for the very first vessel despatched for Alaska
after this conversation, the schooner General Miller,
on which Mr Petroff would have sailed had permis-
sion been granted him, was capsized at sea and all on
board were lost.

I immediately applied through Senator Sargent to
the government authorities in Washington for passage
for Mr Petroff on board any revenue-cutter cruising
in Alaskan waters. The request was granted, on con-
dition that I paid one hundred dollars for his sub-
sistence, which I did.

Mr Petroff embarked at San Francisco on board
the United States cutter Richard Rushy Captain
Bailey, the 10th of July 1878, touched at Port
Townsend the 16th, at Nanaimo for coal on the l7th,
and anchored that night in the Seymour Narrows,
in the gulf of Georgia. Late on the afternoon of
the 18th Fort Pupert was reached, where Mr Petroff
met Mr Hunt, in charge of the station, who had re-
sided there since 1849; Mr Hall, a missionary, was
also settled there. After sailing from Fort Pupert
in the early morning and crossing Queen Charlotte
sound, anchorage was made that evening in Safety
cove, Fitzhuoh sound. Passiiip; Bellabella, another
of the Hudson's Bay company's stations, the cutter
continued its course until at sundown it reached
Holmes bay, on McKay reach. On Sunday, the
21st, the course lay through Grenville channel to
Lowe inlet, and the following day was reached Aber-

554 HISTORIC EXPLORATIONS NORTHWARD.

deen, Cardena bay, where an extensive salmon can-
nery was situated.

The first archives to be examined were at Fort
Simpson. There Petroff met Mr McKay, agent of
the fur company, who placed at his command the
daily journals of the post dating back to 1833. Over
these papers Petroff worked assiduously from night-
fall till half past one, in the quaint old office of the
Hudson's Bay company, with its remnants of home-
made carpets and furniture. Only eight volumes
were examined during his limited stay; but subse-
quently I had the good fortune to obtain the loan of
the whole collection for examination at my library in
San Francisco. In inky darkness Petroff then made
his way out of the stockade of the fort through a
wilderness of rocks and rows of upturned canoes,
until he reached the cutter. Mr McKay had taken
passage for Fort Wrangel, and during the trip fur-
nished a valuable dictation. The fort was reached
on the evening of the 23d. Upon arriving at Fort
Sitka, on the morning of July 26th, Petroff immedi-
ately began to work upon the church and missionary
archives furnished by Father Mitropolski, and spent
the evening obtaining information from old residents
and missionaries; among the latter, Miss Kellogg,
Miss Cohen, and Mr Bredy had interesting experi-
ences to relate. Collector Ball and his deputy were
most attentive. July 28th the cutter steamed away
for Kadiak, which was reached two days later. The
agents of the Alaska company, and of Falkner,
Bell, and company, Messrs Mclntyre and Hirsch,
came on board the steamer, and were very hospitable.
Mr Mclntyre lent Petroff the company's journals,
which were thoroughly examined. Among those who
furnished personal data from long residence in this
country were Mr Stafeifk, Mr Zakharof, and Father
Kasherarof Others, recently arrived from Cook
inlet, also gave considerable information. Mr Pavlof,
son of the former Russian governor, and manager at

THE HONORABLE MEMBER FROM ALASKA. 555

this time of the American and Russian Ice company,
had much important knowledge to impart.

Mr Mclntyre presented Mr Petroff with a mummy,
which was sent to the Bancroft Library and placed in
a glass case. It was obtained by Mr Mclntyre from
Nutchuk island, from a cave on the side of a steep
mountain very difficult of access. In this cave were
the dried bodies of a man and two boys. One was
secretly shipped, but when the others were about to
be placed in a box the natives interfered, and required
their burial for a time. It was Mr Oliver Smith, a
trader at Nutchuk, who undertook their removal,
and who obtained for Petroff the legend connected
with them. The body is well preserved, with finely
formed head, bearing little resemblance either to
Aleut or Kalosh. The hair is smooth and black; it
has the scanty mustache and goatee, sometimes no-
ticeable among Aleuts. The nose has lost its original
shape. Brown and well dried, with chin resting on
the raised knees, this strange relic has a curious ap-
pearance as it surveys its new surroundings. This
much of its history is furnished by the natives : Long
ago, before the Russians had visited these lands, there
had been war between the Nutchuk people and the
Medonopky, Copper River people, who were called
Ssootchetnee. The latter were victorious, and carried
home the women, slaying the men and boys. The
conquered Nutchuks waited for many years their turn
to avenge themselves. One day, while some of the
Ssootchetnees were hunting sea-otter along the shore,
several bidarkas from Nutchuk approached, and in
the attack which followed captured the hunters.
Guided by a smoke column, they went on shore and
discovered a woman cooking. She was one of the
Nutchuk captives, who had been taken from their
island, and was now wife and mother to some of the men
just secured. Her father had been a great chief, but
was dead ; and when she was returned a prisoner to her

556 HISTORIC EXPLORATIONS NORTHWARD.

native land the chief of the island refused to recognize
her because of her relations with the Ssootchetnees.
Cruelly he drove her from him, telling her to go to a
cave in the side of a mountain if she sought comfort.
Obeying, she proceeded thither, and found the naked
bodies of her husband and two sons. So copiously
flowed her tears that the bottom of the cave was
filled with water, which submerged the bodies. Nor
were her groans without avail, for they reached the
heart of the powerful Wilghtnee, a woman greatly
respected for her goodness, and because she controlled
the salmon, causing them every year to ascend the
river, and bringing other fish from the deep sea near
to the shore. Wilghtnee lived in a lake of sweet
water above the cave, and soon learned the story of
wrongs and injustice from the weeping woman. Com-
manding her to cease lamenting, and assuring her that
she need not grieve for the want of skins in which to
sew her dead, as was the custom, Wilghtnee took the
bodies where should fall upon them the waters from
her mountain lake, and in a short time they became
fresh and beautiful, shining like the flesh of the halibut.
Then were they returned to the cave, and Wilghtnee
promised that they should forever after remain un-
changed. Retribution followed the chief's cruelty,
for Wilghtnee was as relentless in her anger as she
was tender in her sympathy, and not a salmon was
permitted to enter the river or lake that year, which
caused the death from hunger of the chief and many
of his tribe. Then was the woman made his suc-
cessor, and during her rule never again did Wilgh-
tnee permit the salmon to fail. The new ruler taught
the people how to preserve their dead, and closed the
cave, in which alone and forever she destined should
remain her Ssootchetnee husband and children.

On the 3d of August Mr Petrofl* reached the trading-
post at Belkovsky, which had existed there for fifty
years; thence he passed along the southern extremity

ALASKA MATERIAL. 557

of the Alaskan peninsula, through Unimak strait into
Bering sea, to Ilinlink, Unalaska island, where he re-
mained for two weeks, and where he received cordial
assistance in his labors from all who had it in their
power to help him. Mr Greenbaum of the Alaska com-
pany secured him access to the church and company
records, and gave him a desk in his office. Through-
out this trip Mr Greenbaum was exceedingly kind,
furnishing him means of transportation, and otherwise
assisting in his explorations. Bishop Seghers of British
Columbia, and Father Montard, the Yukon mission-
ary, furnished much important material concerning
the Yukon country. The bishop was an accomplished
Russian linguist. Father Shashnikof, the most in-
telligent and respected of all the representatives of
the Greek church, was the oldest priest in Alaska,
and chief authority on the past and present condition
of the Aleuts, and had in his possession documents of
great value, of ancient date, and interesting matter.

Mr Petroff visited, among other places of historic
interest, the spot where Captain Levashef wintered
in 1768, ten years before Captain Cook, imagining
himself its discoverer, took possession for the British
crown. A few iron implements left by his party, or
stolen from them, are still exhibited by the natives.
Again he visited an island where a massacre of Rus-
sians by Aleuts took place in 1786; the ground plan
of the Russian winter houses is still visible.

Mr Lucien Turner, signal service officer and cor-
respondent of the Smithsonian institution, had been
stationed at various points in this vicinity for many
years, and had made a thorough study of the languages,
habits, and traditions of all tribes belonging to the
Innuit and Tinneh families. Petroff found him a val-
uable informant on many subjects.

Hearing of an octogenarian Aleut at Makushino,
on the south-western side of the island, whose testi-
mony it was important to obtain, Petroff went in
search of the old man, accompanied by the Ilinlink

558 HISTORIC EXPLORATIONS NORTHWARD.

chief Rooff as interpreter, and another Aleut as guide.
They encountered great difficulties. Instead of the
five or six streams described they waded knee-deep
through fifty-two the first day. At five the next
morning they started again. It was possible only at
low tide to round the projecting points of rock, and
at times they jumped from bowlder to bowlder, at
others they crept along narrow slippery shelves, while
the angry tide roared at their feet, and overhanging
rocks precluded the possibility of ascent. Eleven
wearisome hours of walking brought them to a lake,
through which for two miles they waded, as their
only way of reaching Makushino. There the old
chief received them well and told all he knew.

Before leaving Ilinlink, Mr Petroff had long inter-
views with Doctor Mclntyre, Captain Erskine, and
Mr John M. Morton.

Again the cutter weighed anchor, amidst dipping
of flags and waving of handkerchiefs. This was on
the 19th of August, and at noon the following day
they arrived at St George, where Mr Morgan and
Doctor Specting, the agent and physician of the fur
company, came on board and gave Mr Petroff some
notes. Upon reaching St Paul that evening, Mr
Armstrong, an agent of the company, and Petroff
landed in a whale-boat, passing between jagged rocks
through dangerous surf They were met by Captain
Moulton, treasury agent. Doctor Kelley, and Mr
Mclntyre, who, together with Mr Armstrong, kindly
assisted in makinof extracts that night from their
archives and hospitably entertained him. Early the
following morning Father Shashnikof placed in his
hands bundles of church records, with which the
former priest had begun to paper his house, but the
present incumbent, recognizing their value, rescued
the remainder. The chief of the Aleuts spent some
time with him, giving a clear account of the past and
present condition of his people. He was very intelli-
gent, and evidently had Russian blood in his veins.

J

ABOUT ALTOO ISLAND. 559

At Tchitchtagof, on Altoo island, where the cutter
anchored the 25th, Mr PetrofF found records of the
community kept during the past fifty years. Five
days after saw the Rush at Atkha, in Nazan bay.
Here some interesting incidents of early days were
obtained from two old men and one woman of
eighty. On all these islands the natives spoke of M.
Pinart and his researches. On the 1st of Septem-
ber they landed at Unalaska, where Petroff met Mr
Lunievsky, Mr King, Mr Fred Swift, and the Rev-
erend Innocentius Shashnikof, and was at once put
in possession of the archives, and materially assisted
in his labors by the priest throughout his stay. The
Rush was detained here several days on account of
the weather. Gregori Krukof, trader from a neigh-
boring village, Borka, on the east side of the island,
and the native chief Nikolai, visited Unalaska during
that time, and took Petroff back with them to visit
the place where Captain Cook had wintered in 1778.
Borka is situated on Beaver bay, between a lake and
a small cove. On the arrival of the bidarkas the
chief assembled the oldest of the inhabitants and
questioned them as to their knowledge of Captain
Cook. They related what they remembered as told
them by their parents; that once a foreign vessel
came into Beaver bay and anchored opposite to their
village, off Bobrovskaya, where they remained but
a few days, afterward sailing around into what has
ever since been called the " English burkhta," or bay,
where the vessel was moored and remained all winter.
The foreigners built winter- quarters, and with the
natives killed seals, which abounded at that time.
The captain's name was Kukha. The following morn-
ing Mr Petroff, with the chief as guide, visited the
places mentioned. All that remains of Bobrovskaya
is a gigantic growth of weeds and grass over the
building sites and depressions where houses had
stood. A whitewashed cross marks the spot where
the chapel was located, and at some distance away,

560 HISTORIC EXPLOHATIONS NORTHWAED.

on the hill-side, a few posts and crosses indicate the
ancient gravej^ard. Two or three miles intervened
between the old village and the anchorage, the trail
being obliterated by luxuriant vegetation. It is a
beautiful landlocked bay, and as a harbor for safety
and convenience can not be excelled in all Alaska.
Abreast of this anchorage is a circular basin, into
which empties the water running over a ledge of
rocks. Between the basin and the beach is an ex-
cavation in a side hill, twenty feet square, indicating
the winter habitation of foreigners, as it is contrary
to the custom of the Aleuts to build in that shape or
locality.

Mr. Petroff made an expedition to some Indian
fortifications, supposed to be two hundred years old,
situated on the top of a mountain two thousand feet
high and ten miles distant. According to tradition
there had been fierce wars between the Koniagas, or
Kadiak islanders, and the Unalaska people, and the
ruins of fortifications on both islands confirm these
traditions.

On the 9th of October the Rush started on the home-
ward voyage, reaching San Francisco the 27th.

Several other trips to Alaska were made by Mr
Petrofi* during his engagement with me, and while
none of them, like the one just narrated, were wholly
for historical purposes, material for history was ever
prominent in his mind. After the return of the Rush
Mr Petroff resumed his labor in the library, which
for the most part consisted in extracting Alaska ma-
terial and translating Russian books and manuscripts
for me.

While thus engaged he encountered a notice in the
Alaska Times of the 2d of April 1870 that General
J. C. Davis had addressed to the secretary of war in
Washington five boxes of books and papers formerly
belonging to the Russian- American fur compan}^,
and had sent them to division head-quarters at San

PETROFF IN WASHINGTON. 561

Francisco by the Neiuhern. It was in December 1878
that this important discovery was made. Upon inquiry
of Adjutant- general John C. Kelton it was ascer-
tained that the boxes had been forwarded to the war
department in Washington. Secretary McCrary was
questioned upon the matter, and replied that the boxes
had been transferred to the state department. Mr
John M. Morton and William Gouverneur Morris,
then on their way to Washington^ were spoken to on
the subject, and promised to institute a search for the
archives. On the 13th of February 1879 a letter
from Mr Morton announced that the boxes had been
found by him among a lot of rubbish in a basement
of the state department, where they were open to
inspection, but could not be removed. The greater
portion of the next two years was spent by Mr
PetrofF in Washington extracting material for my
History of Alaska from the contents of these boxes.
The library of congress was likewise examined; also
the archives of the navy and interior and coast sur-
vey departments, and the geological and ethnological
bureaus.

LiT.lHD. 86

CHAPTER XXIII.

FURTHER LIBRARY DETAIL.

I worked with patience, which means almost power. I did some excel-
lent things indiflferently, some bad things excellently. Both were praised;
the latter loudest. ^^^ Brownmg.

In treating of the main issues of these industries,
I have somewhat neglected hbrary details, which I
esteem not the least important part of these experi-
ences. If the history of my literary efforts be worth
the writing, it is in the small particulars of every-day
labors that the reader will find the greatest profit.
The larger results speak for themselves, and need no
particular description; it is the way in which things
were done, the working of the system, and the means
which determined results, that are, if anything, of
value here. For, observes Plutarch, "Ease and quick-
ness of execution are not fitted to give those enduring
qualities that are necessary in a work for all time;
while, on the other hand, the time that is laid out on
labor is amply repaid in the permanence it gives to
the performance." And, as Maudsley observes, "To
apprehend the full meaning of common things, it is
necessary to study a great many uncommon things."
I cannot by any means attempt to give full details,
but only specimens ; yet for these I will go back to the
earlier period of the work.

Regular business hours were kept in the library,
namely, from eight to twelve, and from one to six.
Smoking was freely allowed. Certain assistants de-
sired to work evenings and draw extra pay. This was

(662)

MEXICANS AS ASSISTANTS. 563

permitted in some instances, but always under protest.
Nine hours of steady work were assuredly enough for
one day, and additional time seldom increased results ;
so, after offering discouragement for several years, a
rule was established abolishing extra work.

So rapid was the growth of the hbrary after 1869,
and so disarranged had become the books by much
handling for indexing and other purposes, that by
midsummer 1872, when Goldschmidt had finished a
long work of supplementary cataloguing, and the later
arrivals were ready to occupy their places on the
shelves, it was deemed expedient to drop the regular
routine and devote three or four weeks to placing
things in order, which was then done, and at intervals
thereafter.

Mr Oak spent three months in perfecting a plan
for the new index, and in indexing a number of books
in order to test it and perfect the system. Gold-
schmidt s time was given to taking out notes on the
subject of languages, with some work on the large
ethnographical map, which was prepared only as the
work progressed. Harcourt was indexing, Fisher was
taking out notes on mythology, some were gathering
historical reminiscences from pioneers; and others
continued their epitomizing of voyages and other nar-
ratives.

Galan, the expatriated governor of Lower Cah-
fornia, came to work in the library in July. Some
subjects were at first given him to extract from
Spanish authorities, but his English, though reading
smoothly, was so very diffuse and unintelHgible
that I was obliged to change his occupation. Even
after that I regarded him as a superior man, and he
was given some important books to index. I remem-
ber that he was obiio^ed to index Herrera's llistoria
General two or three times, before I was satisfied with
it. He was one of a class frequently met with, partic-
ularly among Mexicans; he could talk well on almost
any subject, but his chain of ideas was sadly broken

564 FURTHER LIBRARY DETAIL.

in attempting to write. It is somewhat strange that
a person of this kind should have worked for a year
before his work was proved wholly valueless.

The books given out to the indexers at this time
were such as contained information concerning those
tribes which were first to be described; that is, if I
was soon to be writing on the peoples of New Cale-
donia, as the interior of British Columbia was once
called, I would give the indexers all books of travel
through that region, and all works containing infor-
mation on those nations first, so that I might have
the benefit of the index in extracting the material. In
this manner the indexers were kept just in advance of
the note-takers, until they had indexed all the books
in the library having in them any information con-
cerning the aborigines of any part of the territory.
At intervals, whatever the cause of it, the subject
came up to me in a new light, and I planned and
partitioned it, as it were, instinctively.

In the pursuance of the primary objects of life, it
is easier for the man of ordinary ability to perform a
piece of work himself than to secure others to do it. I
do not say that the proprietor of a manufactory is or
should be more skilful than any or all his workmen.
It is not necessary that the successful manager of a
printing establishment, for example, should know
better how to set type, read proof, and put a form on]
a press than those who have spent their lives at thesej
several occupations ; but as regards the general carry-
ing on of the business he can himself perform any]
part of it to his satisfaction with less difficulty thai
in seeking the desired results through others. Bui
since civilization has assumed such grand proportions,
and the accumulated experiences of mankind have
become so bulky, it is comparatively little that on<
man, with his own brain and fingers, can accomplish.
He who would achieve great results must early learnl
to utilize the brain and fingers of others. As appliec

MR NEMOS' SYSTEM. 565

to the industrial life, this has long been understood;
but in regard to intellectual efforts, particularly in the
field of letters, it has been regarded as less practicable,
and by many impossible.

Often have I heard authors sa.y that beyond keep-
ing the books in order, and bringing such as were re-
quired, with some copying, or possibly some searching
now and then, no one could render them anv assistance.
They would not feel safe in trusting any one with the
manipulation of facts on which was to rest their repu-
tation for veracity and accuracy. So of old held priests
with regard to their religion, and merchants where
their money was at stake. I am as zealous and jealous
for the truth of my statements, I venture to assert,
as any one who ever wrote history ; I am exceedingly
careful as to the shades of truth presented, holduig
false coloring of any kind equivalent to downright
mendacity; yet, fortunately, there have alwaj's been
those among my assistants to the accuracy of whose
work 1 would trust as implicitly as to my own. For-
tunately, I say; for had it not been so, I could have
accomplished but little. This has been conclusively
shown in preceding chapters; and the truth of the
assertion will be brou<2rht into clearer lioht as further
details are given.

The system of note-taking, as perfected in details
and supervised by Mr Nemos, was as follows : The
first step for a beginner was to make references, in
books given him for that purpose, to the information
required, giving the place where found and the nature
of the facts therein mentioned; after this he would
take out the information in the form of notes. By
this means he would learn how to classify and how
duly to condense; he would also become familiar with
the respective merits of authors, their bent of thought,
and the age m which they lived, and tlie fulness and
reliability of their works.

The notes were written on half sheets of legal paper,
one foUowmg another, without regard to length or sub-

566 FURTHER LIBRARY DETAIL.

ject, but always leaving a space between the notes so
that they could be torn apart. The notes when sepa-
rated and arranged were filed by means of paper bags,
on which were marked subject and date, and the
bags numbered chronologically and entered in a book.

After the notes had been used, with all printed
matter bearing on the subject, they were returned
to the bags to be pasted on sheets of strong brown
paper, folded and cut to the required size. This
work would require the labor of two men and two
boys for over a year. These, bound and lettered,
would make some three hundred books, fifteen by
eighteen inches, varying in thickness according to
contents.

In this it v/as deemed best to follow the plan of the
history, and prevsent the subject much more in detail
than the printed volumes. This series would consti-
tute in itself a library of Pacific coast history which
eighty thousand dollars could not duplicate even with
the library at hand.

Thus qualified, the assistant was given a mass of
notes and references covering a certain period, or
series of incidents, with instructions to so reduce the
subject-matter that I might receive it weeded of all
superfluities and repetitions, whether in words or in
facts already expressed by previous authors, yet con-
taining every fact, however minute, every thought
and conclusion, including such as occurred to the
preparer, and arranged in as good an historic order
as the assistant could give it.

The method to be followed by the assistant to this
end was as follows : He arranged the references and
notes that pointed to events in a chronologic order, yet
bringing together certain incidents of different dates
if the historic order demanded it. Institutionary
and descriptive notes on commerce, education, with
geography, etc., were then joined to such dates or
occurrences as called for their use : geography coming
together with an expedition into a new country; edu-

EXTRACTING MATERIAL. 567

cation, with the efforts of churchmen; commerce in
connection with the rule of some governor who pro-
moted certain phases of it; descriptions of towns,
when they were founded, destroyed, or prominently
brought forward.

This preliminary grouping was greatly facilitated
by the general arrangement of all the notes for the
particular section of territory, Central America, Mex-
ico, California, etc., already made by an experienced
assistant. In connection with both arrangements a
more or less detailed list of events and subjects was
made to aid in grasping the material.

With the material thus grouped it was found that
each small subdivision, incident, or descriptive matter
had a number of notes bearing upon it, from different
authors, sometimes several score. Those must then
be divided into three or more classes, according to
the value of the authority: the first class comprising
original narratives and reports; the second, such as
were based partly on the first, yet possessed certain
original facts or thoughts ; the third, those which were
merely copied from others, or presented brief and
hasty compilations.

The assistant then took the best cf his first-class
authorities, the fullest and most reliable, so far as he
could judge after a brief glance, and proceeded to ex-
tract subject-matter from the pages of the book to
which the reference directed him. This he did partly
in his own language, partly in a series of quotations.
The accurate use of quotation marks and stars con-
sumed much time. Yet I always insisted upon this :
the note-taker could throw anything he pleased into
his own words, but if he used the exact words of the
author he must plainly indicate it. Sometimes he
found the extract already made on the slips called
notes. The same book might appear to be the best
authority for a succession of topics, and the extracting
was continued for some time before the book was laid
aside. Each extract was indexed in the margin, and

568 FURTHER LIBRARY DETAIL.

at the foot of it, or on the page, was written the title
of the book or paper from which it had been taken.

The next best authorities were then read on the
same topic or series of topics, and any information
additional or contradictory to what had already been
noted was extracted and placed at the foot .of the page
bearing on the subject, or on a blank page, on which
was indexed a heading similar to that of the original
page, so as to bring the same topics together. If
these contradictions or additions bore on particular
expressions or facts in the original extract, they were
subdivided in accordance with and by means of num-
bers brought in connection with the particular word
or line. To each subdivision was added the title of
the authority. The titles of all, or of several first-
class authorities which agreed with the original ex-
tract, were also added to the foot of that extract, with
the remark, ' the same in brief,' or ' in full,' as the case
might be. This showed me which authors confirmed
and which contradicted any statement, and enabled
me readily to draw conclusions. From second-class
authors the assistant obtained rarely anything but
observations, while the third class yielded sometimes
nothing.

As he proceeded in this refining process, or system
of condensation, the assistant added in notes to par-
ticular lines or paragraphs his own observations on
the character of the hero, the incident, or the author.

By this means I obtained a sort of bird's-eye view
of all evidence on the topics for my histor}^, as I took
them up one after the other in accordance with my
own order and plan for writing. It saved me the
drudgery and loss of time of thoroughly studying any
but the best authorities, or more than a few first-class
ancient and modern books.

To more experienced and able assistants were given
the study and reduction of certain minor sections of
the history, which I employed in my writing after
more or less condensation and change.

DIFFICULTY OF CONDENSATION. 569

The tendency with all the work was toward volu-
minousness. Not that I am mclined to prolixity,
but the subjects were so immense that it often ap-
peared impossible to crowd the facts within a compass
which would seem reasonable to the reader. And
none but those who have tried it can realize all
the difficulties connected with this kind of writing:.
Besides increasing the labor fourfold, it often inter-
feres with style, dampens enthusiasm, and makes an
author feel like one doomed to run a mile race in a
peck measure. Just as every horse has its natural
gait, from which it is forced to go faster or slower
only to its disadvantage, so in writing, a certain num-
ber of words are necessary to place before the aver-
age mind a subject in its strongest light, additions
and subtractions being alike detrimental. While I
was resolved to take space enough fairly to present
the subject under consideration, I could not but
remember that as books multiply, readers demand
conciseness, and that no fault can be greater in this
present age than verbosity.

In November 1872 I engaged a copperplate en-
graver, and from that time till the Native Race^
was completed I had engravers at work at the
Market-street end of the library. Besides this, con-
siderable engraving was given out. The cuts for
volume IV., such of them as I did not purchase from
eastern authors and publishers, were all prepared in
the engraving department of the printing-office, on
the third floor.

On this floor likewise, a year or two later, the type
was set and the first proof read. Matters of no in-
considerable importance and care with me were the
type I should use and the style of my page. After
examining every variety within my reach, I settled
upon the octavo English edition of Buckle's Civiliza'
tion, as well for the text and notes as for the system
of numbering the notes from the beginning to the

670 FURTHER LIBRARY DETAIL.

end of the chapter. It was plain, broad-faced, clear
and beautiful, and easily read. The notes and refer-
ence figures were all in perfect taste and harmony.
It is a style of page that one never tires of I sent
to Scotland for the type, as I could find none of it in
America.

It was about this time that I studied the question
of the origin of the Americans, to find a place in
some part of the Native Races, I did not know then
exactly where. When I began this subject I pro-
posed to settle it immediately; when I finished it I
was satisfied that neither I nor any one else knew, or
without more light ever could know, anything about
it. I found some sixty theories, one of them about as
plausible or as absurd as another, and hardly one of
them capable of being proved or disproved. I con-
cluded to spread them all before my readers, not as
of any intrinsic value, but merely as curiosities; and
this I did in the opening chapter of volume v. of the
Native Races.

Meanwhile indexers were constantly coming and
going, attempting and failing. After trying one or
two hundred of the many applicants who presented
themselves, and securing little more than a dozen
capable of doing the work, I concluded to try no more,
unless it should be some one manifesting marked
ability, but let those already engaged continue until
the index was finished. Nine tenths of the appli-
cants were totally unfit for the work, though they
professed to be able, like Pythagoras, to write on the
moon and in as many languages as Pantagruel could
speak.

The fact is it operated too severely against me.
First, the applicant expected pay for his time, whether
he succeeded or not; secondly, no inconsiderable por-
tion of the time of the best indexers was spent in
teaching the new-comers; and thirdly, those who at-
tempted and failed were sure to be dissatisfied and
charge the cause of failure to any one but themselves.

CARTOGRAPHY OF THE PACIFIC COAST. 571

During the first half of 1873 work continued about
as hitherto. Mr Oak spent some weeks on antiqui-
ties, but was occupied a good portion of the time
on early voyages. All this time I was writing on
northern Indian matter, giving out the notes on the
southern divisions to others to go over the field again
and take out additional notes.

While the subject of early voyages was under my
notice I felt the necessity of a more perfect knowl-
edge of early maps. Directing Goldschmidt to lay
out all cosmographies, collections of voyages, or other
books containing early maps, also atlases oi facsimiles,
and single maps, together we went over the entire
field. Beginning with the earliest map, we first wrote
a description of it, stating by whom and when it was
drawn, and what it purported to be. Then from some
point, usually the isthmus of Panama, we started,
and, following the coast, wrote on foolscap paper the
name of each place, with remarks on its spelling, its
location, and other points, marking also at the top
of the page the name, and taking usually one page
for every place. Every geographical name and loca-
tion, great and small, which we could find on any
early map was thus entered, together with the title
of the map or source of information. From the
next map we would take new information respecting
previous names, and also new names. After thus
training Goldschmidt I left him to complete the task,
and when he had thus gone over all our maps we
found before us all information on each place that
could be derived from maps. Several months were
thus occupied, and when the manuscript was bound
in three volumes and lettered, we found added to the
library a Cartography of the Pacijic Coast, unique
and invaluable in tracing the early history and prog-
ress of discovery.

The collection of documents obtained from Judge
Hayes was gone over by D'Arcy, and the loose
papers were pasted in his scrap-books. The judge

572 FURTHER LIBRARY DETAIL.

had a way of doing things pecuhar to himself, and I
was obhged to follow him so far as his documents
were concerned. For scrap-books he cut a portion of
the leaves out of congressional reports, and journals
sent free by congressmen to their constituents. His
scraps were then pasted one against another and at-
tached to the stubs of these books according to sub-
ject. This collection was an olla podrida of southern
Californian knowledge.

A fire which broke out in November 1873 in the
basement of the western side of the building seemed
likely for a moment suddenly to terminate all our
labors. At one time there appeared not one chance in
ten that the building or its contents would be saved; but
thanks to a prompt and efficient fire department, the
flames were extinguished, with a loss of twenty-five
thousand dollars only to the insurance companies. The
time was about half-past five in the evening. I had
left the library, but my assistants were seated at
their tables writing. A thick black smoke, which rose
suddenly and filled the room, was the first intimation
they had of the fire. To have saved anything in case
the fire had reached them would have been out of
the question. They were so blinded by the smoke
that they dared not trust themselves to the stairs,
and it was with difficulty they groped their way to
a ladder at one side of the room, which led to the
roof, by which means they mounted and emerged
into the open air. In case the building had burned,
their escape would have been uncertain. No damage
was done to the library, and all were at their places
next morning; but it came home to me more vividly
than ever before, the uncertainty, not to say vanity,
of earthly things. Had those flames been given five
minutes more, the Bancroft Library, with the Ban-
croft business, would have been swept from the face
of earth; the lore within would have been lost to
the world, and with it mankind would have been

RISK OF FIRE. 573

spared the infliction of the printed volumes which
followed. Thus would have ended all my literary at-
tempts, and I should probably have idled my time in
Europe for the remainder of my da3^s. Five minutes
more and that fire would have saved me much trouble.
In the burning of the library, great as would have
been my loss, that of posterity would have been
greater. Anaxagoras, driven from Athens, exclaimed^
''It is not I who lose the Athenians, but the Athe-
nians who lose me." So I might say without egotism
of the literary treasures I had gathered; their loss
would have been not so much mine as California's;
for in many respects, for example, in respect to time,
ease, pleasure, health, length of days, and money, I
should have been the gainer.

In regard to the risk of fire, as my writings in-
creased, and the manuscripts in my room represented
more and more the years of my life and the wearing
away of my brain, I deemed it wise and prudent to
have copies made of all that had been and was to be
written. Since it would have been premature to
begin printing at this time, I called in copyists,
about twenty, who in three or four months trans-
cribed in copying ink all that I had written; from
this a second copy was made by means of a copying-
press. This performance completed, I sent one copy
to my house, one copy to Oakville, and kept the
original in the library; then I went to sleep o' nights
defying the elements or any of their actions.

In December 1873, with Goldschmidt's assistance,
I made a thorough investigation of aboriginal lan-
guages on this coast. The subject was a somewhat
diflicult one to manage, dialects and affinities running,
as they do, hither and thither over the country, but
I finally satisfied myself that the plan of treating it
originally adopted was not the proper one. The result
was that Goldschmidt was obliged to go over the entire
field again, and re-arrange and add to the subject-
matter before I would attempt the writing of it.

574 FURTHER LIBRARY DETAIL.

Parts of the work seemed at times to proceed
slowly. The mythology dragged as though it never
would have an end. The temptation to shirk, on the
part of certain of my assistants, was too great to be
resisted. The system of note-taking, which was then
much further from perfection than subsequently, tended
to this among the unscrupulous. With one or two
years' work before him, abstracting material accord-
ing to subject instead of by the book, tended in some
instances to laxity and laziness on the part of the
note-taker. Any one so choosing, in taking out notes
on a given subject with the view of making his sub-
ject complete, and at the same time not duplicating
his notes, could plant himself in the midst of his
work and there remain, bidding me defiance; for if
I discharged him, as under ordinary circumstances I
should have done, it would be at the loss perhaps
of six months' or a year's time. This was w^ell un-
derstood, and some took advantage of it. But such
I discharged as soon as that particular piece of work
was done. Thus it always is: those whose integrity
cannot withstand every influence drawing them from
duty are sure sooner or later to be dismissed from
every w^ell ordered work.

No little care was required to keep in order the
files of newspapers. As there were so many of them,
I did not attempt to keep complete more than
the leading journals on the coast. Many country
editors sent the library their journals gratuitously.
My thanks are none the less due them because in
this they showed a high-minded sagacity; for should
their own files be destroyed by fire, as is too often
the case, it is convenient to know of another file
to which they may have free access. No kind of
literature goes out of existence so quickly as a news-
paper; and of books it is said that the rarest are
those which have been the most popular. Collier re-
marks in his introduction to the Prmihs of Robin
Goodfellow, " The more frequent the copies originally

FILES OF NEWSPAPERS. 575

in circulation, the fewer generally are those which
have come down to us."

My chief source of newspaper supply was from the
public libraries and advertising agencies of San Fran-
cisco. To the latter were sent all interior journals,
and by arrangement with the agents these were kept
for me. They amounted to several wagon-loads annu-
ally. Once or twice a year I sent for them, and out
of them completed my files as far as possible. In a
large record-book was kept an account of these files,
the name of each journal being entered on a page and
indexed, the numbers on the shelves being entered, so
that by the book might be ascertained what were in
the library and what were lacking. In this manner
some fifty or sixty thousand newspapers were added
to the library annually.

The task of indexing the books was so severe, that
at one time it seemed doubtful if ever the newspapers
would be indexed. But when it became clearly evi-
dent that history needed the information therein con-
tained, twenty more new men were engaged and drilled
to the task. I sometimes became impatient over what
seemed slow progress, yet, buying another wagon-load
of chairs and tables, I would fill all available space
with new laborers, all such work being afterward
tested by the most reliable persons. For the time
covered by them, there is no better historic evidence
than several files of contemporaneous newspapers,
bitterly opposing each other as is commonly the case.

The leading journals of the United States, Mexico,
and Europe, before which I wished to bring my work,
I now noted, and directed Goldschmidt to mail to their
addresses copies of such descriptions of the librar}^
as appeared in the best papers here. These were also
sent to scholars in different parts, so that they might
know what was going on in California.

The printing of volume ii., Native Races, was begun
in May 1874, and continued, sometimes very slowly,
till February 1875. Matters proceeded during the

676 FURTHER LIBRARY DETAIL.

last half of 1874 about as usual. Between one
Saturday night and Monday morning my engraver
absconded to the east, and the maps immediately
required I was obliged to send to Philadelphia to be
engraved.

While up to my neck in this most harassing of
labors, with three unfinished volumes, embracing sev-
eral main divisions each, in the hands of the printer,
a proposition came from the proprietor of the Overland
Monthly to two of my men, Fisher and Harcourt, offer-
ing them the editorship of that journal, with larger
pay than I could afford to give.

The young men behaved very well about it. They
immediately informed me of the offer, asked me to
advise them what they should do, and assured me
they would not accept unless with my approbation.
Although they were deep in my work, although I
must lose in a great measure the results of their last
year's training, and although I should have to teach
new men and delay publication, yet I did not hesitate.
I told them to go: the pay was better, the position
was more prominent, and their work would be lighter.

I do not recollect ever to have allowed my interests
to stand in the way of the advancement of any young
man in my service. Whenever my advice has been
asked, remembering the time when I was a young
man seeking a start, I have set myself aside, and have
given what I believed to be disinterested advice, feel-
ing that in case of a sacrifice I could better afford
it than my clerk. I could not but notice, however,
that, nine times in ten, when a young man left me it
was not to better his fortune. If he began business
on his own account, he failed; if he accepted another
situation at higher salary, his employer failed.

So I told Harcourt and Fisher not to let me stand
in their way. They accepted the position, but offered
to give me part of their time and complete their note-
taking up to a certain point; but so slowly had the
work proceeded when their whole time was devoted to

A HISTORICAL SOCIETY. 577

it, that I had no faith in pieces of time and spasms of
attention. The best brains of the best men were poor
enough for me, and I wanted no secondary interest or
efforts.

The habihty at any moment to be called to serve
on a jury was a source of no little annoyance to mc.
To break away from my w^ork and dance attendance
on a judge, with nerves unstrung to sit in the foul
atmosphere of a court-room and listen to the wran-
glings of lawyers, was a severe penalty for the ques-
tionable privilege of squeezing in a vote between
those of a negro and an Irishman for some demagogue
on election-day. I cannot longer halloo myself hoarse
in July because I may so vote in October. The San
Francisco judges, however, were quite lenient, nearly
always excusing me. To sit as juryman for a week
unnerved me for a month. I could not take up my
work where I had left it and go on as if nothing
had happened. Besides actual time spent, there was
always a severe loss. I felt safest wdien in the countr}^
away from the reach of the sheriff. The judges in
time came to understand this, and ceased altogether
to demand of me this senseless service.

In 1875 I declined the republican nomination for
member of congress. There were ten thousand ready
to serve their country wdiere there was not one to do
my work in case I should abandon it. In March
1876 Mr John S. Hittell came to the library and
asked permission to propose my name as honorary
member of the Society of California pioneers. The
rules of the society were such that none might be re-
ceived as regular members who reached this country
for the first time after the 31st of December 1849.
There was no historical society, so called, in San Fran-
cisco, and Mr Hittell's wish was to unite with the
pioneer association the historical element of the com-
munity, so that the pioneers' society might be the
historical society as well. As the date of one's arrival

Lit. Ind, 37

578 FURTHER LIBRARY DETAIL.

in a country is not always governed by one's love of
literature and antiquity, so love of literature does not
always flow from early arrivals. Hence it was deemed
advisable to attach by means of honorary member-
ship the desired element, which could not be reached
in the ordinary way under the constitution and by-
laws except at the risk of interfering with certain gifts
and bequests.

While I fully appreciated the motive, and was
duly grateful for the honor conferred, I was unable
to perceive how any alliance, even in mere name or
imagination, could be formed which would be of the
slightest benefit to them or to me. Work like mine
never yet w^as done by a government or a society.
No body of men has ever yet been found who would
spend both the time and money requisite, laboring a
lifetime with the unity of purpose of a single mind.
A monarch reigning for life might prosecute such a
work at the public expense, were he so disposed, but
where heads of governments rule in quick succession,
and every legislative body undoes what was done by
its predecessor, there is not much hope of public liter-
ary accomplishments.

Many letters I received requesting information on
every conceivable topic. If I had established an
agency on the Pacific coast for the distribution of
general knowledge, I should have felt flattered by my
success ; but as these letters drew heavily on my time,
and the labor I bestowed in complying with their re-
quests seemed to be poorly appreciated and seldom
acknowledged, the applicant appearing only to care
about the information, and not how he obtained it,
such letters were not very welcome. Nevertheless, I
made it a rule to have them all promptly attended to,
trusting the next world for returns.

One wishes to know all about the wines of early Cal-
ifornia. At which mission were the first vines planted ?
Where did the cuttings come from — Mexico, South
America, or Spain? At which mission and when was

COMPLETION OF THE 'NATIVE RACES/ 579

wine first made? Did the padres make wine for their
own use only, or did they export it? Where was most
wine made in 1846? Into whose hands fell the vine-
3^ards ? Mr Lea of Philadelphia desires material on the
Inquisition in Mexico; Edward Everett Hale asks in-
formation concerning the introduction of the horse in
America. Another wants a list of all the medicinal
herbs. Mr Packard of Salem, on behalf of the United
States entomological commission, makes inquiry re-
garding the Spanish Jesuit accounts of grasshopper
invasions in California; and there were hundreds of
such queries, which I deemed it my duty to answer
whenever it lay in my power.

To those who best know what it is to make a good
book, the rapidity and regularity with which the sev-
eral volumes of my works appeared was a source of
constant surprise. '' How you have managed," writes
John W. Draper on receipt of the fifth volume of
the Native Races, " in so short a time and in so satis-
factory a manner to complete your great undertaking
is to me very surprising. The commendations that
are contained in the accompanying pamphlet arc
richly deserved. I endorse them all. And now I
suppose you feel as Gibbon says he did on completing
his Decline. You know he was occupied with it more
than twenty years. He felt as if the occupation of
his life was gone. But you are far more energetic
than he. You are only at the beginning of your in-
tellectual life: he was near the close. You will find
something more to do." Thus it is ever. Our best
reward for having done one work well is that we
have another given us to do.

On the completion of the Native Races Oliver
Wendell Holmes writes: "I congratulate you on put-
ting the last stone upon this pyramid you have reared.
For truly it is a magnum opus, and the accomplish-
ment of it as an episode in one man's life is most
remarkable. Nothing but a perfect organization of
an immense literary workshop could have effected so

580 FURTHER LIBRARY DETAIL.

much within so Hmited a time. You have found out
the two great secrets of the division of labor and the
union of its results. The last volume requires rather
a robust reader; but the political history of the ixs
and the itls is a new chapter, I think, to most of those
who consider themselves historical scholars. All the
world, and especially all the American world, will
thank you for this noble addition to its literary treas-
ures."

Such are some of the details of my earlier labors.
But above all, and beyond all, in breadth of scope and
in detail, was the history and the workings of it. It
was a labor beside which the quarter-century appli-
cation to business, and the Native Races with its fifty
years of creative work upon it, sink into insignificance ;
and it was, perhaps, the most extensive effort ever
undertaken by a private individual for historical pur-
poses.

I thought before this I had accomplished some-
thing in life, with my mercantile and manufacturing
establishments in full and successful operation, and a
literary reputation world-wide and most flattering. I
thought I knew what heavy undertakings were, and
what it was out of no very great means to accomplish
great results ; but all seemed Lilliputian in comparisoQ
with the seas of performance upon which I now found
myself embarked.

The 15th of October 1875 saw the Native Races
completed; but long before this, note-taking on the
History of the Pacific States had been begun on the
plan developed while I wrote several parts of this
history years before, and perfected by the experiences
gathered in preparing the Native Races. As I have
before remarked, my purpose in this latter effort was
to take up the same territory covered by the Native
Races, and continue its history from the coming of the
Europeans. This would be the history proper of
the country, the Native Races being in reality a de-

THE HISTORY. 5qi

scription of the aborigines; yet the one followed the
other in natural sequence. Without the Native Races
the history would be incomplete, could not, indeed,
be properly written; while the history is in truth
but a continuation of the Native Races.

It is an immense territory, this western half of
North America; it was a weighty responsibilit}',
at least I felt it to be such, to lay the foundations
of history, for all time, for this one twelfth part of the
world. It seemed to me that I stood very near to
the beginning of a mighty train of events which should
last to the end of time; that this beginning, now so
clear to me, would soon become dim, become more and
more indistinct as the centuries passed by; and though
it is impossible for the history of a civihzed nation ever
to drop wholly out of existence while the printing-
press continues to move, yet much would be lost and
innumerable questions would arise, then impossible
of solution, but which might now be easily settled.
Large as my conceptions were of the magnitude of
this labor, and with all my business and literary ex-
perience, here again, as thrice before in these histori-
cal efforts, once in tlie collecting of the library, once
after completing the first writing of the first parts of
my history, and once in the writing of the Native
Races, I had no adequate idea of the extent of the
work before I engaged in it.

Immediately the Native Races was finished, all not
yet so engaged were set at work taking out notes for
the history. A much more perfect system was em-
ployed in abstracting this material than had been
used in any of the former work. I do not mean to
boast, or if I do, it is with that godly boasting which
the cause makes pardonable; and further, it is not of
myself but of my assistants I herein boast, for I took
out only the notes for the first parts of my history
with my own hands ; I say, then, without unpardon-
able boasting, that in my opinion there never in the

582 FURTHER LIBRARY DETAIL.

history of literature was performed so consummate
a feat as the gathering, abstracting, and arranging of
the material for tliis History of the Pacific States.

It was regarded as a great achievement successfully
to handle twelve hundred authorities and compress
their contents into five volumes, presenting the list in
the first volume of the Native Races. Still more re-
markable was it from two thousand authorities to
write the three volumes of the History of Central
America. But when on making the list of authori-
ties for the six volumes of the History of Mexico I
found there were ten thousand, I was literally over-
whelmed. They w^ere all employed, in one way or
another, every one of them, in writing the history,
but I could not afford the space to print all the titles,
as was my custom. They would occupy nearly half
a volume. It was finally resolved that, referring the
reader to the list of authorities printed in the first
volumes of Central America and the North Mexican
States, it must suffice to print only the more impor-
tant ones remaining, and to state clearly the omission
and the cause at the head of the list.

The task of making references as well as that
of taking out material was equivalent to five times
the labor of writing; so that at this work, and pre-
paring the material in the rough, I found no difficulty
in keeping employed fifteen to twenty persons ; for
example, in taking out the material for California
history alone, eight men were occupied for six years;
for making the references, merely, for the History of
Mexico, without taking out any of the required in-
formation, five men were steadily employed for a
period of ten years. Counting those engaged on such
work as indexing newspapers, epitomizing archives,
and copying manuscript, and I have had as many as
fifty men engaged in library detail at one time.

For several reasons I determined to begin, this
second resumption of the history with California;

HISTORY OF CALIFORNIA. 583

that is to say, although the work was to he a history
of the Pacific States from the coming of the Euro-
peans, covering the same territory embraced by the
Native Races, and would of chronological necessity
begin with its southern extremity, and follow the
natural order of discovery and conquest northward,
yet I deemed it best, all things considered, to resume
in the middle of tlie work rather than where I left off,
for the following reasons : First, of the central division
of the subject, embracing northern Mexico, Arizona,
California, Nevada, and Utah, following the natural
channels of history from the conquest of Cortes, more
particularly of California, the centre of their central
division, I had in my possession a great mass of orig-
inal matter, more, proportionately, than of the states
lying to the south of the city of Mexico. This ma-
terial consisted of unpublished manuscript histories
and original documents which had lain hidden through-
out the entire progress of the country, and which had
been by me, little by little, unearthed, assorted, de-
ciphered, and put in order for historical use; material
of a value which could not be measured by money,
for if once lost it never could be replaced. If lost, it
was so much knowledge dropped out of existence,
it was so much of human experience withheld from
the general storehouse of human experiences ; and the
loss would remain a loss throughout all time.

Moreover, there was of this more, proportionately,
than had ever been collected about any other country ;
more of original and unused material for the history
of California than had ever before been collected and
preserved of any country of like extent, population,
and age. The richness of this material consisted in
the profusion of documentary and personal evidence
placed side by side; letters, official papers, and mis-
sionary records, united with personal narratives, and
complete histories of epochs and localities dictated
by eye-witnesses, and written out by men employed by
me, and solely for my history.

584 FURTHER LIBRARY DETAIL.

Day by day and year by year I had seen these
priceless treasures accumulate until the thought of
their destruction by fire became unendurable to me,
and I determined, long before the Native Races was
finished, that to place at least the substance of this ma-
terial beyond the peradventure of destruction should
be my very first work. As I could not then erect a
detached fire-proof building for my library, the next
most direct and practical method was to melt and
draw off from the mass the metal of historic lore,
and recast it into permanent form, in which it might
be preserved in some place apart from the original
material.

To save the contents of this invaluable material,
then, was my first consideration. This saved, and all
my Hbrary swept away, I might possibly, in some
way, by the aid of the archives of Mexico and the
libraries of America and Europe, complete my history;
but the California material once lost, there was an end
to all my labors.

Another reason why I would write the central part
of the History of the Pacific States first was that I then
found myself at the head of a corps of thoroughly com-
petent and trained assistants, very different in points
of knowledge and ability from the untutored and un-
skilled workmen who assisted me at the beginning of
these undertakings. They, as well as I, had learned
much, had gained much experience in abstracting ma-
terial for history, and in printing and publishing books.

There were several among my assistants who could
now take a book or a manuscript, no matter how ob-
literated or in what language, and decipher it, and
placing themselves at their desks could intelligently,
correctly, systematically, and expeditiously take out in
the form of notes all the historical matter the volume
contained, knowing that the work was properly done,
that it was no experiment of which the results might
have to be all thrown away and the labor performed
anew. This no one of them was capable of doing at first.

EVER GROWING EFFICIENCY. 585

They were likewise familiar with the library, the
books and their contents, the index and how to use it,
the territory and much of its history. They knew
better what to take out ; and although the information
to be extracted was as undefinable as ever, and the
subject-matter as intricate, the note-taking was much
more systematic and complete. For five years our
minds had been dwelling on these things, and on little
else. Our whole intellectual beino: had, durino^ these
years, become saturated with the subject; and although
work was now to be taken up in a new form, and con-
ducted on a higher plane, and brought yet nearer
to perfect completion than any before, I felt adequate to
the task. Three or five years hence I might or might
not have as good men in the library. Death and
disagreements are inseparable from humanity, and yet
of the latter I had seldom experienced one in connec-
tion with my literary labors. I believe I never have
had a serious misunderstanding with any one of my
regular assistants. We worked together as friends,
side by side, as in one common interest. This central
part of my subject I regarded, I will not say as the
most important part, for each part was equally im-
portant, but it was the most difficult part, the most
intricate and laborious part, and with competent and
trained assistants it was the part which I could most
thoroughly perform, and most perfectly finish. This
was to be the crowning effort of these literary achieve-
ments; let me do it, I said, while I am able.

The library was moved to Valencia street the 9th
of October 1881, and type-setting was begun on the
history the following day. Although opposed in this
move by several of my friends, I persisted. The truth
is, I was becoming fearful lest it would never be put
into type; lest I should not live to complete the work,
and I was determined to do what I could in that
direction while life lasted. My health at this time
was poorer than ever before, and my nerves were by

588 FURTHER LIBRARY DETAIL.

no means quieted by reading one day an article on tlie
business, submitted to me by Mr Hittell for his Corri-
merce and Industries^ in which he took occasion to
remark of my hterary undertakings: "The scale on
which he has commenced his work is so comprehen-
sive that it is doubtful whether he will be able to
complete it even if he should reach the age of three
score and ten, with continuous prosperity and good
health." I thereupon resolved to complete it, to post-
pone dying until this work was done, and I immedi-
ately ordered a dozen compositors to be put upon
the manuscript. Matter equivalent to fifteen volumes
w^as then in manuscript, and three fourths of the work
on the remainder had been accomplished in the note-
taking. I gave out, first, volume i. Central America^
and then volume i. History of Mexico, both of which
had been wTitten long years before, and rewritten;
after that I gave to the printers w^hatever part of the
work appeared convenient, so that they frequently
had several volumes in hand at one time. The utmost
care was exercised in revising, rewriting, comparing,
and verifying, as the work was passed to press, four
or five persons devoting their time altogether or in
part to this work.

Further than this, not only would I print, but I
would publish. I had no delicacy now in placing the
imprint of the firm on my title-pages. The world
might call it making merchandise of literature if they
chose : I knew it was not, that is to say in a mercenary
sense. There was no money in my books to the busi-
ness, hence the business did not specially want them.
In the publication of several extensive works the
house had acquired a national reputation, and I was
convinced that it would do better with this series
of Pacific States histories, than any other firm. So
I engaged Mr Nathan J. Stone, lately of Japan
but formerly of our house, a man of marked ability,
of much experience in our establishment and else-
where, to devote himself to the publication and sale

PRINTING AND PROOF-EEADING. 687

of my books. Transferring to him the business con-
nected therewith, I went on with my writing more
vigorously if possible than before. I requested the
mayor and the governor to visit the library, inspect
the work, and then give me a certificate, expressing
their belief in the completion of the work as then
promised, which was at the rate of three or four vol-
umes a year. I took better care of my health than
before, determined to piece out my life to cover the
time I now calculated would be required to finish the
work. Lastly I revised my will to provide the neces-
sary funds, and appointed literary executors, so that
my several books should be completed and published
even in the event of my death. Strange infatuation,
past the comprehension of man! Of what avail this
terrible straining, with my body resolved to dust and
my intellect dissipated in thin air! One would fancy
the prize a heavenly dukedom at the least; but when
I looked up into the heavens I saw no dukedom there.
For all that, I would abridge my life by twenty years,
if necessary, to complete the work; why, I cannot tell.

After beginning printing, proof-reading was again
in order. It was a severe tax; that is, in the way it
w^as done in the library. When the proofs came from
the printing-office, where they were read and revised
by an expert familiar with this work, one copy was
given to me, and one each to Nemos, Oak, and Gilmour.
The latter compared and verified both subject-matter
and references, comparing with original authorities,
and placed the corrections of the others with his
own on one proof, when it was returned to me. One
of the others besides myself also read the corrected
proof in pages, which were gone over by the chief
proof-reader for printers' errors.

There is something extremely fascinating to me in
the printing of a book. The metamorphoses of mind
into manuscript, and manuscript into permanent print ;
the incarnation of ideas, spreading your thoughts first

588

FURTHER LIBRARY DETAIL.

upon paper and then transfixing them hj the aid of
metal to the printed page, where through the ages
they may remain, display a magic beside which the
subtleties of Albertus Magnus were infantile. ''M.
Duputel is smitten with that amiable and enviable
passion, the love of printing for private distribution,"
remarks Dibdin in his Bihliogra'phical Tour. What
this passion is I never stop to consider. With me I
think it is the satisfaction of seeing a valuable some-
thing growing under my fingers; this and the multi-
]:)lying power of the types. The masses of mankind
clothe with mysterious influence the unseen being who
commits his thought to print. And living books are
indeed a power; even those that come and go accom-
plish much. No book ever lived in vain; the black
and w^hite of its pages, its paper and pasteboard, may
pass into oblivion, as all but the sacred few which
spring from the inspiration of genius do and should
do, yet tlie soul thereof never dies, but multiplies
itself in endless transmigrations into other books to
the end of time.

During the progress of the history through the
press there were many maps and plans to be drawn,
local and sectional maps to illustrate text or notes,
and sometimes a more general map to accompany the
volume. These were drawn as required, many of
them by Mr Gilmour. The several lists of authorities
quoted were prepared in the main by Mr Benson,
who also assisted Mr Gilmour in making an index of
the several historical as well as supplementary sets.
In order to have the use and benefit of the indexes
during the progress of the work, the several books or
sets were indexed on paper cards about three by four
inches, as the pages appeared in type, and when the
set, such as the History of Central America or the
History of Oregon, was complete, the cards were
handed to the printer, who from them put the index
in type.

ORDER OF PUBLICATION". 589

Though written early, the History of California was
not so early to be published, except the first volumes.
Originally I thought of the history only as one com-
plete work, the volumes to be written and published
in chronological order; but later it occurred to me
that there was too great a sweep of territory, climates
and governments too several and diverse, for me
arbitrarily to cement them in one historical embrace.
Many persons would like a history of one or more of
the countries, but would not care for them all. There-
fore I finally concluded to write and number the
volumes territorially, and yet maintain such chrono-
logical order as I was able ; that is, I would begin with
Central America, that part coming first in order of
time, and bring the history of those states dov/n to date,
numbering the volumes i., ii., and iii.. History of the
Pacific ^Slates, as well as i., ii., and in.. History of
Central America. The History of the Pacific States,
volunie IV., would be the History of Mexico, volume
I., and so on; and the works might then be lettered
under both titles and the purchaser be given his choice;
or he might prefer to include the Native Races and
the supplemental volumes under the yet more general
WiXo oi Bancroft's Works. Thus would simplicity and
uniformity be preserved, and purchasers be satisfied.
With this arrangement it would not be necessary to
confine the order of publication to the order of num-
bering, as the volumes might very properly appear
chronologically, which was, indeed, the more natural
sequence; and as a matter of fact they were so pub-
lished.

Thus the History of the PacifiG States would com-
prise a series of histories each complete in itself; yet
the whole would be one complete history, each in the
requisite number of volumes; viz., the History of Cen-
tral America,; the History of Mexico ; the History of the
North Mexican States and Texas; the History of Arizona
and New Mexico; the History of California; the His-
tory of Nevada, Wyoming, and Colorado; the History of

590 FURTHER LIBRARY DETAIL.

Utah; i}iQ History of the Northwest Coast; the History
of Oregon; the History of Washington, Idaho, and
Montana; the History of British Columbia; the His-
tory of AlasJca. The plan was to pubhsh three or
four volumes a year, to be issued simultaneously in
San Francisco, New York, London, and Paris. In
regard to the two volumes of Noi^th Mexican States,
I should have preferred to include them in the History
of Mexico, under the one general title. But they
were in reality a separate work, given more in detail
than the southern Mexican states, which were treated
from national rather than from local standpoints.
And this for several reasons: they were newer, so
to speak, more native, less subdued, less settled and
cultivated, the Mexican frontier being always toward
the north and not westward, as in the United States;
then they were hearer the United States, more pro-
gressive than the southern Mexican states, and in this
way they would constitute a stepping-stone in respect
of detail to the nations of the south and the states of
the north.

Another work of the highest importance later
forced itself upon me, and took its place among my
labors as part of my history. This was the lives of
those who had made the history, who had laid the
foundations of empire on this coast upon which future
generations were forever to build. Thus far a narra-
tive proper of events had been given, while those who
had performed this marvellous work were left in the
background. Every one felt that they deserved fuller
treatment, and after much anxious consideration of
the subject, there was evolved in my mind a separate
section of the history under title of Chronicles of the
Builders of the Commonwealth, which in a framework
of history and industrial record gives to biography
the same prominence which in the history proper is
given to the narrative of events.

THE NEAREST OF ASSISTANTS. 591

In addition to the history were the supplemental
works, California Pastoral, California Inter Pocula,
Popular Tribunals, Essays and Miscellany, and Lit-
erary Industries, all of which grew out of the work
on the history, and were carried along with it. The
first two consist of material left over in writing the
history, the one of California under missionary regime,
and the other of California during the flush times,
too light and sketchy for exact historical narra-
tion, and yet more readable in some respects than
the history itself The titles of the last two speak
for themselves. Of the third I shall speak further
presently. I need not go into detail here regarding
their conception and production ; suffice it to say that
the subjects all came to me of their own accord, and
that I wrought them out without aid from any one,
there being no notes to be taken or information to be
gathered and sifted further than what I was able to
accomplish myself while writing the history. And
yet I should not say this. Much of the labor on these
volumes was performed at my home, where was the
sweetest and most sympathizing assistant a literary
drudge ever had, constant in season and out of season,
patient, forbearing, encouraging, cheering. Many a
long day she has labored by my side, reading and re-
vising; many womanly aspirations she has silenced in
order to devote her fresh, buoyant hfe to what she
ever regarded as a high and noble object. God grant
that she and our children may long live to gather
pleasant fruits from these Literary Industries, for I
suspect that in this hope lies the hidden and secret
spring that moves the author in all his efforts.

CHAPTER XXIV.

MY METHOD OF WRITING HISTORY.

There is a class of authors different from those who cringe to prevalent
tastes, and paruler to degrading passions; men whom neither power can in-
timidate, nor flattery deceive, nor wealth corrupt. t^, . 7

Hegel says of the Germans : " Instead of writing
history, we are always beating our brains to discover
how history ought to be written." Nor is brain-
beating fruitless. Better never write a word of his-
tory, or anything else, unless it be done in the best
manner possible.

My system of historical work requires a few words
of explanation, since not a little of the criticism, both
favorable and unfavorable, has been founded on an
erroneous conception of its nature.

In order to comprehend clearly the error alluded
to, it is well to note that the composition of an his-
torical work involves labor of a twofold nature, the
dividing line being very clearly marked. Material in
the nature of evidence has first to be accumulated
and classified; subsequently from the evidence judg-
ments have to be formed and expressed.

The two divisions might of course be still further
subdivided, but such subdivision is not needed for
my present purpose. My system — if it be worthy
to be termed a system distinct from others — of which
I have in my different works had somewhat to say,
and others have said still more, has no application
whatever to the second and final operation of an his-
torian's task. Every author aims to collect all possible

(592)

THE ORDINARY METHOD. 593

evidence on the topic to be treated, and ho accom-
pHshes his purpose by widely different methods, of
which more anon; but having once accomphshed that
primary object, in his later work of mind and pen
there is little that is tangible in his methods as dis-
tinguished from those of another. He studies the
evidence profoundly or superficially, according to his
habit of study; forms his opinions more or less wisely,
according to the strength of his judgment; and ex-
presses them in language diffuse or concise, forcible
and graceful, or commonplace and awkward, according
to his natural or acquired style.

The philosopher, learned in mental phenomena,
may classify to his own satisfaction the minds and
mind- workings of authors; the literary critic may
form comparisons and broad generalizations upon
style. There are as many variations in thoughts as
there are in men, in style as there are in writers;
but in this part of my work I have no peculiar
system or method, and I suppose that other authors
have none.

My system, then, applies only to the accumulation
and arrangement of evidence upon the topics of which
I write, and consists in the application of business
methods and the division of labor to those ends. By
its aid I have attempted to accomplish in one year
what would require ten years by ordinary methods;
or on a complicated and extensive subject to collect
practically all the evidence, when by ordinary methods
a lifetime of toil would yield only a part.

To illustrate: Let us suppose an industrious au-
thor, determined to write the history of California, at
the start wholly ignorant of his subject. He easily
learns of a few works on California, and having pur-
chased them studies their contents, making note^s to
aid his memory. His reading directs him to other
titles, and he seeks the corresponding books in the
libraries, public and private, of the city where he re-
sides. His search of the shelves and catalogues of

Lit. Ind. 38

594 MY METHOD OF WRITING HISTORY.

the various libraries reveals many volumes of whose
existence he had not dreamed at first; but yet he
continues his reading and his notes.

His work, even if he devotes his whole atten-
tion to it and resides in San Francisco, has at this
stage occupied several years, and the author just be-
gins to realize how very many books have been printed
about California. His reading, perhaps, has covered
two hundred and fifty books, and he has accumulated
the titles in different languages of two hundred and
fifty more not to be consulted in San Francisco. He
makes an effort to secure some of those that seem
most important; he induces friends at a distance to
send him notes from others; if possible he travels in
Mexico and Europe, and thus actually consults many
of the missing tomes. But in the mean time he has
probably learned, through catalogues and bibliograph-
ical lists, that five hundred more works have been
printed on his subject, even if he does not yet suspect
the truth that besides the one thousand there are }■ et
at least another thousand in existence. He now gives
up his original idea of exhausting the subject, under-
stands that it would be impossible in a lifetime, and
comforts his conscience and pride with the reflection
that he has done much, and that many of the works he
has not seen, like many of those he has, are probably
of very slight historic value; indeed, it is most likely
that long ere this he has allowed himself to glance
superficially at some ponderous tome or large collec-
tion of miscellaneous pamphlets, almost persuading
himself that they contain nothing for him. There
are ten chances to one that he has not looked at one
volume in twenty of the myriads of the United States
government reports, though there is hardly one which
does not contain something about California. It has
never occurred to him seriously to explore the count-
less court records and legal briefs, so rich in historical
data. He knows that newspapers contain valuable
matter; he has even examined a partial file of the

A DISCOURAGING PICTURE. 595

Calif ornian, and some early numbers of the Alta or
Sacramento Union, but being a sane man he has never
dreamed of an attack on the two hundred files of
California newspapers, even could he find them to
attack. He knows that each of these fields of research
would afford a labor of several years, and that all
of them would fill the better part of his life with
drudgery.

Another trackless wilderness of information now
opens before him. Our author has before this realized
that there are sources of history other than those
found in printed matter. He is surrounded by early
settlers, whose combined recollections are the coun-
try's history in the main; he has talked with several
of them, and obtained a few choice anecdotes and
reminiscences to be utilized in his book; he has no
time to obtain the statements of many, and does not
attempt it. He is aware of the desirability of original
manuscript authorities; he eagerly deciphers a musty
document procured by a friend who knows of his in-
vestigations; is delighted at the discovery of a small
package of old papers at some mission, mysteriously
handed out by the parish priest to furnish choice ex-
tracts for the author's note-book; handles gingerly
the limited archives of Santa Cruz; obtains from Mr
Hopkins, of the United States surveyor -general's
office, translations of a few documentary curiosities;
tries to flatter himself that he has studied the archives
of California, and is a happy man if he escapes being
haunted by the four hundred huge folio volumes of
manuscripts containing the very essence of the annals
he seeks to write, yet which he knows he could not
master in fifteen years of hard work. Perhaps he
escapes the vision of the papers scattered over the
state in private hands, enough to make up sundry
other hundreds of similar tomes.

He now realizes yet more fully the utter impossi-
bility of exhausting the material; feels that the work
he set out to do has but fairly commenced, and can

596 MY METHOD OF WRITING HISTORY.

not be completed. Of course he does not feel called
upon to make known to the public his comparative
failure; on the contrary, he makes the most of his
authorities. His notes are brouo^ht out and arrano^ed ;
he has before him the testimony of several good wit-
nesses on most of the prominent points of his subject;
he has devoted twenty-five years of industrious re-
search to his work; the book is finished and justly
praised.

This writer, whose investigations I have thus fol-
lowed, is one of a thousand, with whom most of the men
who have actually written so-called histories of many
nations and epochs are not worthy of comparison. He
failed simply because he attempted the impossible.

Now the reader will permit me to trace my own
course through a similar routine of investigation,
pursued, however, by different methods. I, like my
imaginary friend, was determined to write the history
of California, and had almost as vague an idea as he of
the task assumed. He purchased some books as tools
with which to work, selecting such as were known to
bear on his subject; I began ten years before I was
ready to write, and bought through agents in all parts
of the world every book that could be had concerning
the Pacific States, thus up to that time or a little
later obtaining twenty thousand volumes, sure to in-
clude, as I thought, all existing material about Cal-
ifornia. To search among my twenty thousand for
two thousand on California was a less formidable
undertaking than for him to search the shelves of
different libraries and catalogues for his five hun-
dred volumes; but it was too slow for my purposes,
and from ten to fifteen men were employed to index
the whole and furnish me a list of California material
with reference to volume and page. My imaginary
author plods industriously through each work as he
finds it, making careful notes of such matter as he
deems of value, while 1 put ten men, each as capable

THE SCIENTIFIC METHOD. 597

in this kind of labor as he or I, at work to extract
everything under its proper heading. I, Hke him, am
more and more astonished at the apparently never
ending mass of material encountered, but I can see
my way through if only the treasury department sus-
tains me. So I tunnel the mountain of court records
and legal briefs, bridge the marsh of United States
government documents, and stationing myself at a
safe distance in the rear, hurl my forces against the
solid columns of two hundred files of California news-
papers.

I, too, see about me many living witnesses, and
from several hundreds of them I obtain, by aid of
stenographers, as well as other reporters, detailed
statements respecting early times. I more than sus-
pect the existence of important papers scattered in
private hands, and I proceed to buy, borrow, and beg,
until the product fills a hundred volumes. The six
hundred bulky tomes of public and mission archives
rise up before me, but there is no such thing as retreat
at this point of procedure; I have no fifteen years
to spend in plodding through this pathless waste, but
fifteen searchers reduce the time to one year, and the
archives are transferred to my library. Meanwhile
my note-takers continue their labors; each volume,
pamphlet, manuscript, and newspaper is made to give
up its evidence, little or much, on one point or many,
and nothing is omitted or slighted.

At last the preparatory w^ork is ended, and the
evidence on each specific point is laid before me, as
my friend had his^ before him, with this difference :
I have practically all where he had only part — he
hardly realized, perhaps, how small a part. He had
two or three witnesses whose testimony he had se-
lected as essential on a certain topic; I have a hun-
dred whose evidence is more or less relevant. From
this point our progress lies practically in the same
path, and the race is well nigh run. Had he the
same data as I, his results would be superior to mine

598 MY METHOD OF WRITING HISTORY.

if he were my superior as a thinker and as a writer.
Our respective methods and systems have httle or no
influence in the matter, save perhaps that in my ex-
perience with many assistants I have been able to
select a few to whom I am able to intrust the prepara-
tion of systematized notes on special topics, and thus
still further to shorten my labors.

My work at last completed, I have been able to ac-
complish thoroughly in fifteen years what my friend,
quite as zealous, industrious, and able as I, has done
superficially in twenty-five years, and what he could
not have done as thoroughly as I, in six lifetimes. And
yet our respective methods differ after all in degree
rather than in kind. I have done scarcely anything
that he has not attempted. He has purchased books,
studied books, handled newspapers, deciphered man-
uscripts, and questioned pioneers; I have simply done
twenty times as much as he in each of these direc-
tions, much more easily and in much less time.

I come now to consider the relative merits of the
two methods, the desirability of applying business
methods and division of labor to historical and
scientific research. The advantages and the disad-
vantages, if any such there be, of such application
should be noted. I claim that mine is the only
method by which all the evidence on a great subject
or on many smaller subjects can be brought out.
Without it the author must confine himself to limited
topics or do his work superficially. To thus limiting
himself there is no objection, as there can be none
that I know of to the more ambitious plan of having
help and doing more and better work. I can conceive
of no case where it is not desirable for an investigator
to have before him all the evidence; though I have
had some experience with critics who revere as an
historian the man who writes from a study of twenty
books with rare and patronizing credit to their
authors, and more lightly esteem him who studies a
thousand works, and chooses in his notes to leave

THE LOCAL ANNALIST. 599

standing the ladder by which he mounted. I have
also met critics who apparently could not comprehend
that a writer who refers to one thousand authorities
does not necessarily use them mechanically, or allow
a numerical majority to decide every point, instead
of internal evidence. But these objections serve
only to show in a clearer light their own absurdity,
and that a thorough study is far better than a super-
ficial one.

An industrious author may in a reasonable time
collect data and properly record the manners and cus-
toms of the Modoc tribe, the annals of Grass Valley,
or the events of the Bear Flag revolution; and for
the man who thus honestly toils to increase the store
of human knowledge I have the greatest respect.
Such a man could not by ordinary methods write
anything like a complete work on the aborigines of
America, or even of California, or on the history
of the Pacific States; and for the man who from an
acquaintance with Iroquois manners and customs,
with the reading of a few books on the North
American aborigines, proceeds learnedly on the in-
stitutions and history of every tribe and nation from
Alaska to Cape Horn, from the Crow reservation
in 1875 back to the dwellers of the prehistoric
Xibalba — for such a man I have not very much ad-
miration to spare, even if some of his theories are
plausible and ingeniously and eloquently supported.
Neither am I overburdened with respect for the soi-
disant historians of California who can in the leisure
hours of a few years and within the limits of five hun-
dred pages record all that is worth knowing of the
annals of our state; who before 1846 see nothing but
the acts of a few padres and ^ greasers,' of which no-
body cares to hear; who glance vaguely and super-
ficially at a few of the many phases of the subject they
profess to treat.

The great advantage claimed for my system of
liteiary work is, then, that it renders possible results

600 MY METHOD OF WRITING HISTORY.

otherwise unattainable. I deem it desirable that the
few to whom nature has given the capacity to derive
their greatest enjoyment from the hard toil of literary
and scientific research should be enabled to embrace
in their efforts the broadest fields and accomplish the
grandest possible results.

On the other hand, this system of research involves
a great pecuniary outlay. In many kinds of labor two
working together will accomplish more than four work-
ing separately; in other kinds, four will not do twice
as much as two. But this is a disadvantaofe which
affects only the author, and not his work, nor the
interests of his readers. The same reply might be
made to the complaint that assistants cannot be found
who will work as carefully and zealously as the em-
ployer, since this fact simply renders necessary the
extraction of some superfluous or duplicate material.
It is true that an investigator in his study of authori-
ties learns much of his subject beyond what is con-
tained in the notes that he preserves, and that at the
close of the preparatory studies this knowledge by
my system of work exists in several minds rather
than in one. This objection is to a certain extent well
taken, and I am disposed to admit that on a limited
subject which can be really mastered within a period,
say, of five years, one man will produce better work
than several, although experience has taught me that
the application of varied talent, no two men treading
in the same path, is not without its advantages. I
have always encouraged among my assistants a free
expression of their own ideas, and have derived the
greatest benefit from frequent conversations and dis-
cussions with them on special topics. In long and
complicated subjects to which my method is applicable,
and which cannot be successfully treated by any other,
I am inclined to regard the division of labor as an ad-
vantage in itself I question if the mind which can
plod for a long series of years through the necessary
preliminary work is the mind properly constituted for

TEXT AND NOTES. 601

the best use of the material acquired; or whether the
best abihty is not injured by long drudgery.

The primary endeavor in all my historical writings
has been to exhaust the subject, but presenting it
always as condensed as possible. In the text is given
the information complete, the full narrative in the
fewest words.

It was ever my aim to tell the story clearly and
concisely, taking a common-sense practical view of
things, and arranging them in natural sequence, giving
an episode as much as possible in one place, even
though in its relation to other episodes it overlapped
a little. Analysis of character, as applied to leading
personages, I endeavored to make a feature, giving,
with physical description, bent of mind and natural
and acquired abilities. In cases where characteristics
were not directly specified they might be arrived at
from the acts of the individual. A little colloquy
was deemed not ineffective when short, terse, and in
language appropriate to the persons and the time.
A short story, pointedly given, is effective to enliven
the text, but it must not be carelessly done. The
notes were for reference to authorities, for proof,
elucidation, discussion, illustration, balancing of evi-
dence, and for second-class information. To this end
quotations from authorities were deemed in order, not
as repetitions, but as presenting the subject in its sev-
eral shades and opposite positions. Though not illus-
trated— first-class writings are seldom illustrated —
maps and plans were inserted in both text and notes
wherever needed. In regard to bibliography, it was
my aim to give every important book and manuscript
formal notice in the most suitable place; the title to
be given in full, in italic. The contents of the work
were then briefly epitomized, after which a criticism
of the work and a biographical notice of the author
were given. The biographies of all leading historical
characters were of course presented in the text, these
of themselves constituting history; inferior characters

602 MY METHOD OF WRITING HISTORY.

were disposed of in the notes, but of these latter there
were few except among pioneers.

Between the old method and the new there is about
the same difference that would arise in any under-
taking by a practical man of busiaess and by a purely
garret philosopher or student. Elsewere in this vol-
ume I have drawn certain comparisons between the
industrial life and the intellectual life. I desire here
to speak more particularly of the effects of a business
and a collegiate course on literary labors, the difference
in the men produced by these two species of training,
and the effects upon my historical efforts of my former
business experience.

In the two classes of occupation, while there is much
in harmony there is also much that is directly antag-
onistic one to the other. The elements essential to
success are alike in both, but the training suitable for
one is not the best for the other. There are certain
qualities equally beneficial in both. Honesty, intelli-
gence, application, and the like are as valuable to
the professional man as to the business man, and not
more so; just as blood, endurance, reliability, are as
valuable qualities in the draught-horse as in the race-
horse ; the training, however, would be quite different
in the two cases. Obviously the course pursued in
fitting a horse for the turf unfits the animal for the
cart.

I never imagined this difference to be so pronounced
in the training of young men destined to their differ-
ent pursuits until I was brought into immediate and
constant contact with two distinct sets of assistants,
directing both, and part of the time under the same
roof The business I had planted ; all its growth and
branchings I had directed, engaging and oversee-
ing all those employed in it. This represented one
part of me, and of my life. My literary work I had
conceived, planned, and was then performing, direct-
ing fully every one engaged in it. This represented

LITERATURE AND BUSINESS. 603

another part of me, my nature, my aspirations, and
my life.

A young man or an old man applies to me for a
situation. He may be suitable for the business and
not for the library; nay, if he is specially fitted for
one he is not suitable for the other. My first ques-
tions are: What did you last? What have you been
doing all your life? What are your aspirations?

If the applicant's time hitherto has been spent as
salesman or book-keeper in a mercantile or manu-
facturing establishment; if his mind be of the color
of money, and his chief desires and tastes lie in the
direction of buying, and selling, and getting gain, he is
worth nothing to me in the library. On the other
hand, if he be scholarly in his tastes, of meditative,
intellectual habits, careless of money, preferring the
merchandise of mind to the accumulations of the
warehouse; if he be sensitive, diflfident, and retiring,
inexperienced in business, with parents and friends
intellectually inclined, having spent his whole life at
study, having acquired a good collegiate education, and
being still ambitious to acquire more, I should never
think of placing such a man in the bustle of busi-
ness. It would be no less distasteful to him than
unprofitable to both of us.

The youth's training and experience while in a store
are invaluable to him if he means to become a mer-
chant. It is time lost, and often worse than lost, if
the intellectual life be his future field; although in my
own case, beginning with literature later in life, and
prosecuting studies after my own peculiar method, my
business experience was of the greatest advantage to
me. " Legal training," remarks George Eliot, " only
makes a man more incompetent in questions that re-
quire knowledge of another kind." The activities of
business call into play such totally different quali-
ties of mind, drawing it from its content in quiet,
thoughtful study, and stirring it to accumulative
strife and the passions of acquisition, that it is in

604 MY METHOD OF WRITING HISTORY.

some respects, but not in all, a positive detriment to
intellectual pursuits. On the other hand, study and
the thoughtful investigation which should follow it are
too apt to engender sensitive, sedentary habits and a
distaste for the activities of business. As Mr Her-
bert Spencer puts it: ''Faculty of every kind tends
always to adjust itself to its work. Special adjust-
ment to one kind of work involves more or less non-
adjustment to other kinds,"

It is not my purpose here to discuss the relative
importance of these two pursuits. Both are impor-
tant, the one no less than the other, and it would be
well if one could have the benefit of both. It w^ould
be well if in one person could be united twenty dififerent
kinds of training. A military training has its advan-
tages; though I must say I see no greater wisdom in
introducing the military element in a boys' school than
the wood-sawing element or the watch-making ele-
ment. For instance, the wood-sawyer and the watch-
maker, in acquiring or in practising their occupations,
derive advantages beneficial to the lawyer or merchant.
A medical training is advantageous to a clergyman;
every species of training acts beneficially on every other
species. There is no occupation in which the learner
v/ould not be benefited by the training incident to a
dozen other occupations, wxre it possible to learn the
twelve without slighting the one.

In my literary work, at every turn, I found myself
deriving the largest benefits from my business experi-
ence. Before I had been engaged in my historical
labors for five years I found my new work broadly
planned and fairly systematized. Accustomed to util-
ize the labors of others, I found no difficulty in directing
a small army of workers here. I found fastened upon
me as part of my nature habits of application and
perseverance from which I could not tear myself if I
would. I was wound up by my mother to work; and
so wound that the running down should be with the
last tick of time.

ADVANTAGES OF VARIOUS TRAININGS. 605

Moreover, I found myself as free as might be from
prejudices, though this, I beheve, is the opinion of
the wildest fanaticism concerning itself; free from
sectarianism and party bias, and from the whole
catalogue of isms, some of which are apt to fasten
themselves on immature minds and there remain
through life. I found myself with no cause to battle
for, no preconceived rights or wrongs to vindicate
or avenge, no so-called belief to estabhsh, no special
politics to plead. I had no aim or interest to pre-
sent aught but the truth; and I cared little what
truth should prove to be when found, or whether it
agreed with my conceptions of what it was or ought
to be. I would as willingly have found the moon
in the bottom of the well, were it really there, as in
the heavens, where we have always supposed it to be.
It was as though I had been born into the world of
letters a full-grown man.

He who accumulates facts seldom generalizes them,
because no one man has the time and the ability to
do both to any great extent. Herbert Spencer could
have made little progress weaving his vast and spark-
ling theories had he not possessed a good store of
raw material before he besran them. Then asfain,
general speculations spring from habits of thought
different from those that regulate the mind-machinery
of scientific specialists. Yet the spirit of ^business
activity may be infused into the meditations of mind.
The ethics of commerce are not fully appreciated by
the student of literature, of law, of divinity. There
are in the commercial life more influences at work to
form habit, character, opinion, than in almost any other
sphere of action. In looking back upon the past the
success of my historical undertakhigs depended no less
on business experience than on literary ability.

So long as the spirit incarnate, so long as mind,
abides in the body, the body must be cared for; in-
deed, it is the first care of the mind to provide for
the body, but the body once furnished with proper

606 MY METHOD OF WRITING HISTORY.

food and covering, it is not only enervating, but posi-
tively debasing for the mind to go on unnecessarily
pampering and providing all its days. Eating only
gold will not satisfy hunger; drinking only gold will
not quench thirst; a higher and holier appetite than
that for wealth should swell men's instincts. Other-
wise the simple requirement of nature corrodes, be-
comes gangrene with greed, and the intellect, the
only part of man which lives or is at all progressive,
is left to decay.

As to which is the higher, the nobler of these pur-
suits, there is no question. Philosophers are the mind
of society, as agriculturists and manufacturers are
the body. ''We respect the mercantile mind, as we
should," says Stoddard, "but something tells us that
it is inferior to pure intellect. We reverence genius
more than gunny bags."

Like every other animal, man toils for simple exist-
ence. Now if wealth increased life, there would be
some sense in struggling for it. But this is not so :
it absorbs life. Only the multiplication of mind mul-
tiplies life; and it is in the exercise of this privilege
alone that man is better than a brute. Money and
power, at first esteemed as ministers of our pleasure,
finally are loved for themselves alone.

A life of business, of acquisition, of struggling to
better one's bodily condition, however well it may be,
however necessary, never can produce the highest
results. Drawn into the whirlpool of money-getting,
the mind is lost to nobler efforts. " Every man's aim,"
says Higginson, "must either be riches or something
better than riches." And here is one strong plea for a
non-accumulating aristocracy, for some units of every
society to stand as perpetual reminders to covetous
men that there are things in heaven and earth more
valuable, more worthy rational consideration, than
gold, merchandise, and stocks; that there are such
things in this universe as imperishable treasures be-
yond the reach of moth and rust, and that he who

THE CURSE OF COVETOUSXESS. 607

dies worth only his ten or twenty milhons in money
dies poor indeed.

What shall we say of a lifetime of besotted wal-
lowing for wealth, when bright souls are sullied even
by the contamination of it? As Jean Paul Richter
expresses it: '^The pure and upright man is always
once, in the earliest time, a diamond of the first water,
transparent and colorless ; then he is one of the second
water, and many and various colors play in its beams,
until finally he becomes as dark as the stone which
grinds the colors."

Wealth, if it does not paralyze literary effort, in
almost all cases diminishes intellectual activity. Often
it completely annihilates all intellectual thinking and
living. The highest mental energy springs under the
stimulant of necessity, except, indeed, in cases of super-
abundant genius, which are exceedingly rare.

Pleasure is not the only influence that draws the
rich man from his literary devotions. The power
which money gives, and which encourages the pos-
sessor to employ it in accomplishment, instead of the
feebler efforts of personal drudgery, is a stronger
temptation even than that of pleasure. Honor and
power as well as pleasure are already secured; why
should one voluntarily descend to a state of such
severe servitude? The man with money can accom-
plish so much more, and with so much greater ease,
by directing the labor of others than by puny per-
sonal efforts. Once in a great while, as in the cases
of Puskin and the Humboldts, one sees intellect pos-
sessed of gold, and not possessed by it; but the younger
Pliny was for the most part right when he said, "Ea
invasit homines, habendi cupido, ut possideri magis,
quam possidere videantur."

"Industry, and a taste for intellectual pleasures,"
says Lord Macaulay of noble authors, ''are peculiarly
respectable in those who can afford to be idle and who
have every temptation to be dissipated. It is impos-
sible not .to wish success to a man who, finding him-

608 MY METHOD OF WRITING HISTORY.

self placed, without any exertion or merit on his part,
above the mass of society, voluntarily descends from
his eminence in search of distinctions which he may
justly call his own." In his model republic, Plato
unites elegance with simplicity, and makes men learned
without being weak.

Pride is a great comforter. Some are proud
of their wealth, and some of their j)overty; some of
their noble ancestry, and some of their low origin.
While we rejoice to see wealth scattered and the
mighty things of this world made useful; while we
cry with Lucan, *'In se magna ruunt: Isetis hunc
numina rebus crescendi posuere modum!" yet if
these poor gold-ridden plodders are satisfied, I do not
see why we should molest them. If Croesus fancied
himself the happiest of mortals, was it not unkind in
Solon to attempt to undeceive him?

Horace boasted his humble birth; so did Burns,
and so Beranger. Now, while I see nothing to be
proud of in wealth or high birth; while I respect a
man not one whit more because he happens to have
bushels of money, or because his father gave him the
privilege of writing lord or count before his name, on
the other hand I see nothing glorious in being born
in a hovel. Let him praise himself who, born rich or
titled, achieves true greatness, rather than the humble
person who rises by his own efforts, for poverty drives
one on to laborious undertaking, while the rich and
great have no such incentive. Of the two, the laud-
able efforts of poverty or the ennui of wealth, give me
the former.

A word with regard to retiring from business. It
is well enough understood at this day that he who
suddenly exchanges life-long, active occupation for idle
happiness seldom finds it. It is only the constitu-
tionally lazy man, he who has never done anything,
who enjoys doing nothing. If the commercial man
has a cultivated intellect, he has an unfailing resource

RETIRING FROM BUSINESS. 609

within himself. But this is not often the case:
a man of refined and cultivated literary tastes is
seldom a great commercial man. '^ The tendency of
modern business life/' says Doctor Beard, ''for one
who succeeds in it, is to repress whatever of poetry,
or science, or art there may be in the brain." Yet
absolute retirement from an active and successful
business life which he loves, even to a purely intel-
lectual life which he loves better, may not be always
the best a man can do. The strains of study and
writing are so severe upon the nerves that at times
business may be recreation — that is, if the business
is well systematized and successful, with plenty to do,
with plenty of capital, and without haste, anxiety, or
worry.

At all events I never could wholly retire from
business, although at times its duties were extremely
distasteful and its cares crushing. Some of the hap-
piest associations, some of the warmest friendships,
have sprung from my commercial life; and they
never left me, but ripened into sweeter fragrance as
age crept on apace. Kenny, Colley, Dorland, and
my nephew Will, Welch and Mitchell, Maison and
Peterson, and all the rest of the little army I used
to general with such satisfaction, not only were
you diligent and loyal to the business, but you
were among those I was ever proud to call my
friends! In the midst of the severest literary labors,
as I have before mentioned, I have voluntarily taken
sole charge of the business when it was largest and
most intricate, for months and years at a time,
doubling its capabilities and profits with as little
effort as that employed by the skilful engineer in
adding to the force of his machinery; and I believe
I derived only pleasure and benefit from it. It was a
relief to my tired brain to step from the library
to the oflSce and in a few moments shape the next
month's affairs; it was a relief to fingers stiff from
writing history to sign checks awhile. Nor is this

Lit. Ind. 39

610 MY METHOD OF WRITING HISTORY.

any contradiction to what I earlier remarked about
interruptions when deep in hterary labors. A man
can do much if left to his own way.

It is no new thing to travel and collect data. Four
hundred years before Christ the world's first historian
was abroad in search of material. But the travels of
Herodotus covered an area of not more than seven-
teen hundred square miles; that is to say, along inter-
secting lines extending through thirty-one degrees of
longitude and twenty-four of latitude, though, indeed,
all the world of his day.

The country whose story I proposed to tell, all
that was known of it, its physical features as well as
its peoples, the aborigines and their supplanters, em-
braced an area of some three millions of square miles,
nearly one twelfth of the earth's land -surface, with
twelve thousand miles of sea-coast. The whole earth
was ransacked for information touching this territory.

Arnold says: ''For the creation of a master-work
of literature two powers must concur, the power of
the man and the power of the moment."

Histories of the early nations of Asia and Europe,
as I have before said, had been collated by many
skilful hands, had been studied with care, greatly to
the profit of mankind. The inhabitants of eastern
North America likewise had their able chroniclers,
men who had spent their lives in studying and por-
traying aboriginal character as well as modern his-
tory. All this I was now attempting to do for the
western side of the continent.

History will be written, and men will rise to write
it. Nature reports her own progress, reports it in
the sandstones, the coal and peat beds, in mountains,
rivers, and seas. The migrations and convulsions of
society leave not their footprint upon the stones, but
the doings of civilization are none the less certain to
be reported. In every nation there are some who
will gather and communicate from pure love of it.

GENERAL NOTES. 611

All writings are a description of something, either
real or imaginary. Thus, history describes nations in
their successive events and epochs; poetry paints the
passions; the novelist gives a series of imaginary,
social, or other occurrences; science and philosophy
describe realities, material and immaterial. The differ-
ent kinds of literature did not originate and develop
simultaneously; poetry and philosophy were born be-
fore romance and science.

My theme should be the people and their land.
Whatever should concern them, their character and
comforts, their origin and destiny, surely was not
out of place. The burden of the Iliad is not the siege
of Troy, but the wrath of Achilles; the burden of
Herodotus is not the history of Greece, but the de-
struction of the Persian armada. But the less signifi-
cant instruments by means of which civilization cuts
her channels should not monopolize all my thoughts.
The straightforward truth itself in all its simplicity
should be my aim, ever beseeching deliverance from
mind-befogging collateral speculations, as well as from
great-man worship in every one of its varieties.

Besides the regular subject-matter or historical
notes, which were largely taken out by my assistants,
there was another class of notes, allusory and illus-
trative, which I was obliged to take out for myself, in
order to obtain satisfactory material for use. I have
found these notes exceedingly serviceable. They were
made during occasional general readings of from a
week to three months in duration. So long as I could
write steadily I had neither time nor taste for miscel-
laneous reading; but feeling that a writer could never
have too much familiarity with history and classical
literature, whenever I could do nothing else I read
vigorously in that direction, taking notes and recording
my own ideas! The substantial facts of history are
fixed and determined. When the object is to present
them all as they are, without theoretical bias or class

612 MY METHOD OF WRITINO HISTORY.

prejudice, with no desire to elevate this person, sect,
or party, or to humihate or debase another, there
is something about the work definite, tangible, and
common to all minds. But notes for purposes of proof,
illustration, or garnishment, such as Buckle presents
in his Commonjylace Booh — though there indeed are
notes of every class indiscriminately thrown together —
must be abstracted by the person using them, as no
two minds think exactly in the same channels; nor
would one person undertaking to use notes of this
kind made by another be able even to understand in
many instances their significance or relevancy.

With the notes for a volume all out and arranged,
and the plan of the work clearly defined in my mind,
the writing was comparatively rapid. While the
writing was actually in progress I avoided as much as
possible all outside reading.

But at the completion of every one or two of my
written volumes, I ran through some fifty or a hun-
dred books which I had laid aside to read as my eye
had fallen upon them from time to time, taking notes
and memoranda applicable both to what I had written
and to what I had yet to write. Jean Paul Richter
was exceedingly careful to preserve all his thoughts.
'^He was as thought -thrifty and thought -storing,"
says one, "as he was thought- wealthy." Had the
time been at my disposal I should have been a great
devourer of books, for I scarcely ever could pass a
book without looking at it, or look at a book without
wanting to read it.

"I have long had it in my mind to speak to you
upon the subject of which this letter treats," writes
Mr Harcourt to me the 4th of April 1877, at White
Sulphur springs. "You have made literature your
profession, and have already attained a position in the
world of letters which the vast majority of those who
have grown gray-headed and worm-eaten in the cause
have failed to reach. This notable success is partly
owing to the wise and far-sighted system you have

HARCOURT'S PROPOSAL. 613

adopted of leaving to others the drudgery that is in-
separable from literary labor, and thereby keeping
your own energies fresh for the part that is expected
of genius. You have carried the progressive spirit of
the age into a quarter where it is least expected to
be found, for you have applied machinery to liter-
ature, and have almost done for book-writing what
the printing-press did for book dissemination. It is
true that few men of literary tastes — for is it not
written that they are all miserably poor? — are in a
position to avail themselves of your system, and I
know of no one but yourself to whom the sugges-
tion I am about to make, which is simply an exten-
sion of that system, would be practicable.

''It is of course well known to you that notes of a
general character are indispensable to every writer.
Their importance and value cannot be overestimated.
They are absolutely requisite for the attainment of
both brilliancy and accuracy. What makes a man's
pages sparkle so brightly as a judicious and appropri-
ate use of those 'jewels five words long which on the
stretched forefinger of all time sparkle forever' ? They
serve to show the breadth of his reading — a most
laudable vanity, I think, if kept within bounds — they
inspire respect in the reader, they say things for him
that the writer could but indifferently express in his
own words, and by obhterating the obnoxious ego for
a moment they stamp his work with the mark of
authority. But I am sure that you appreciate their
value and desirability. Yet how is it possible to have
them at hand without the use of notes? A man can-
not carry in his head all the books he has read;
neither, though he has them all by heart, will the
passages and facts which he most admires or which
are most appropriate to his present purpose occur to
him when he needs them most. The prejudice which
exists against a commonplace book in the minds of
many who are not writers is absurd in the extreme.
What author of eminence has been without one? It

614 MY METHOD OF WEITING HISTORY.

is true that quotations and allusions as they crop out
in the pages do and should appear to have occurred
to the writer on the spur of the moment; but that
they were in reality carefully drawn from his written
archives and not from the calls of a superhuman
memory is a compliment to his industry and no slur
upon his learning.

" You will think me fearfully long-winded, I know,
but I come straight to business when I state that I
should like to take general notes of this kind for you,
and what I have said was merely to show, first, that
my taking them out for you would be perfectly in
accordance with your views of the way in which such
work must be done, and second, that such notes should
be in your possession.

''I have, of course, no doubt that you have already
a large collection of your own ; but one can never have
too many, or even enough of them, and I think that
I might materially assist you. To keep himself up
with the literature of the day is about all that a man
can attend to in these times, and he has little leisure
for taking the back-track among the brain-work of
the past."

Few persons were better qualified for this work
than Mr Harcourt. No one possessed finer literary
tastes than he ; no one's reading was of a wider range
than his. And yet for him to accomplish this labor
for me I deemed impracticable. For his own use his
notes would be invaluable. But in a commonplace
book made for my use by Mr Harcourt, and one made
by Mr Buckle, or any other author for himself, I could
see but little practical difference; that is to say, I might
almost as well draw my notes of illustration from cyclo-
paedias and quotation dictionaries already in use as to
have Mr Harcourt make a collection specially for me.
His would be on the whole better, unquestionably,
since I could direct him what categories to draw from
and in what form to write them out; but after all, the
fact would remain that they were quotations, either

WORK, THE CHIEF DEPENDENCE. 615

literal or in essence, and in their original conjunctions
they were worth far more to me. Moreover, there
was too much of sham in the proposition.

After all that may be said of inventions and sys-
tems, or even of ability, work, work was ever my
chief dependence. That which we call genius is often
nothing else than the natural growth of organs and
faculties which of necessity grow by their use. All
productions are the result of labor, physical or mental,
applied to natural objects. Says Sainte-Beuve of the
labor expended in writing his inimitable Causeries da
Lundi, or Monday-Chats, ''I descend on Tuesday into
a well, from wdiich I emerge only on Sunday." It is
no small task even to edit another man's work, if it
be done thoroughly and conscientiously. John Stuart
Mill, in editing Bentham's Rationcde of Judicial Evi-
dence, was obliged to condense three masses of manu-
script, begun at three several times, into a single
treatise; he was likewise to supply any omissions of
Mr Bentham, and to that end read several treatises
on the law of evidence.

Intellectually, as well as physically, the rule holds
good that he who will not work shall not eat. To
the rich, therefore, as to the poor, this rule applies,
and with greater intensity it rivets the rich man's
bonds. The most worthless of us, if poor enough, are
hammered by necessity into something useful, even
as the cooper hammers the leaky barrel.

Wealth is greatly desired; it is attained only by
labor or sacrifice. Learning is greatly desired: it is
attained only by labor or sacrifice. So is respecta-
bility, fame, or any other fancied good. Air and sun-
shine, indispensable to all, are not wealth, because
they are free to all; that which hfts one in any way
above one's fellows comes only from labor or sacrifice.

The work of man is distinguished from that of
beasts in that it has intelh^ence in it. Strictly
speaking, there is no such thing as purely manual
labor. All human labor is partly physical and partly

616 MY METHOD OF WKITING HISTORY.

mental; as we descend the scale the physical element
increases and the mental decreases.

It is only the ruder forms of labor that bring im-
mediate returns; the more complex productions of
the mind are of slower ripening. In the earlier stages
of progress muscular exertion is depended upon almost
entirely for supplying the wants of mankind. But as
the mind acquires strength and experience, natural
agents, the falling water, wind, heat, and electricity,
are harnessed to mechanical contrivances and made
to do duty as labor-saving machines.

Nature abhors immobility. Motion is the normal
condition of man as well as of matter. Society is but
a stream, ever seeking its level, ever flowing on toward
the ocean of eternity. And who wonders at the belief
prevalent in certain quarters that on reaching this
ocean beyond the shores of time the souls of men are
beaten up by the universal sun into new forms of
existence, even as the sun of our little system beats
the waters of the ocean into cloudy vapor? This is
the central idea round which revolves all thought, the
central force from which radiate all energies, the germ
of all development, the clearest lesson thrown by
nature upon the dark economy of providence, that in
labor and sorrow are rest and happiness, that in decay
there is growth, in the dust of death the budding
flowers of immortality.

Experience alone must be the teacher of those who
strike out into new paths; meanwhile old ways must
satisfy the more conservative. Learning from experi-
ence is a different thing from learning by experience.
All the wealth of Kussia could not teach Peter the
Great how to build a ship; but a day-laborer in a
Dutch dock-yard could reveal to him the mystery,
and speedily it unfolded within him.

Before genius is application. The mind must be
fertilized by knowledge and made prolific by indus-
try. With all the marvellous energetic training of
his son, which alone made him the man he was,

SOMETHING FOR EVERY ONE TO DO. 617

the father of John Stuart Mill failed to implant in
him practical energy. He made him know rather
than do. Many men there have been of great ca-
pabilities and zeal who have expended their energies
on energy alone; that is to say, they were ready
enough to begin a great task, and would begin many
such, and labor at them with brave conscientiousness;
but so high was their standard and so keen the sense
of their own imperfections, that after a lifetime of
futile study and elaboration they sank beneath their
burden, the child of their excessive labor being still-
born and never seeing the light.

Surely each of us may do something; may leave
a bequest as beneficial to our race as that of Hiero-
cles, joke-compiler of the fifth century, who after the
arduous labors of a lifetime left to the w^orld a legacy
of twenty-one jokes which he had collected. And if
they were good jokes he might have done worse; like
many another of more pretentious wisdom, he might
have died and left no joke at all. For, as Goethe
says:

"Soil doch nicht als ein Pilz der Menscli dem Boden entwachsen,
Und verfaulen geschwind an dem Platze, der ihn erzeugt hat,
Keine Spur nachlassend von seiner lebendigen Wirkung!"

CHAPTER XXV.

FURTHER INGATHERINGS.

Das Wenige verschwindet leicht dem Blicke,
Der vorwiirts sielit, wie viel noch iibrig bleibt.

Goethe.

With Goethe I might truly say at this juncture
that the Httle I had done seemed nothing when I
looked forward and saw how much there remained to
be done. Whatever else I had in hand, never for a
moment did I lose siglit of the important work of col-
lecting. Moved by the increasing importance given
to facts and points of detail in the inductive, moral,
and physical science of the age, I regarded with deep
longing the reach of territory marked out, where
so much loss and destruction were going on, and at
such a rapid rate. My desires were insatiable. So
thoroughly did I realize how ripe was the harvest
and how few the laborers, how rapidly was slipping
from mortal grasp golden opportunity, that- 1 rested
neither day nor night, but sought to secure from those
thus passing away, all within my power to save before
it w^as too late. With the history of the coast ever
before me as the grandest of unaccomplished ideas, 1
gathered day by day all scraps of information upon
which I could lay my hands.

Among my earliest attempts to secure original
documents from original sources was the sending of
Bosquetti to San Jose and Sacramento in 1869, as
previously related. Long before this, however, while
collecting information for the statistical works issued
by the firm, I had secured a little material of a local
character, but nothing of a very important nature.

( 618 )

DATA FOR CALIFORNIA HISTORY. 619

The conception first assumed more definite form in
the brief sketches of notable pioneers, or indeed of
any one who had come to the country prior to 1849;
indeed, at the time of beginning my work the popular
idea of a history of California dated in reality from
the coming of the Americans. All before that was
shadowy, if not, indeed, mythologic. At all events it
was generally supposed to be something no one knew
much about, and the little that could be ascertained
was not worth the writing or the reading. The hijos
del pa{.9 were regarded as being nothing, as having
done nothing, as being able to communicate nothing,
and would not tell of themselves or of the past if
they could; so that at this period of my investi-
gations a white man who had come to the country in
1846 or in 1848 was a magazine of historical infor-
mation.

No inconsiderable results attended these efforts
even at an early day. Quite a number of pioneers
responded to appeals made them by letter, and sent in
their written statements. Some called at the library
and gave in their testimony there. Up through Napa
valley, into the Lake country, and back by Clover-
dale and Santa Rosa, I made a hasty trip in 1871.
About this time I engaged ]\Ir Montgomery, editor
of a Napa newspaper, to furnish some sketches from
original sources of the experiences of early settlers.
From the secretary of the society of California
pioneers I obtained the names of those whose ad-
ventures were deemed worthy of record, and sent
men to take their statements. ''There should be a
chronicle kept," says Doctor Johnson, "in every con-
siderable family, to preserve the characters and trans-
actions of successive generations."

At Sacramento, at Salt Lake City, and else\yhere
in my travels about the Pacific coast, I made additions
from time to time to tliis very valuable part of my
collection. Some of the efforts and expeditions made
by me and by my assistants in search of historical

620 FURTHER INGATHERINGS.

data I give in this volume, but thrice as much must
forever remain untold.

Long before I made my memorable journey to the
north, where I received such a warm reception and
cordial aid in every quarter, particularly in Pu<yet
sound, I received from the author, the honorable
Elwood Evans of Olympia, early in 1873, a manu-
script history of Oregon and the great north-west,
Yvith permission to copy the same, and to use it at my
discretion. Mr Evans was a highly talented member
of the bar, a ripe scholar, a graceful writer, and a man
thoroughly familiar with the history of those parts,
where he had resided the greater portion of his life.
His history had been carefully written, and had
many times undergone critical revision by those who
had taken part in the development of the country;
for example, by Sir Jajiies Douglas and W. F. Tolmie,
of Victoria, touching the operations of the Hudson's
Bay Company, of which those gentlemen were chief
officers for a quarter of a century or more. I need
not say that this manuscript was of the greatest value
to me in writing the History of the Northwest Coast,
or that Mr Evans is entitled, aside from my heart-felt
thanks, to the highest praise for his singular and dis-
interested magnanimity in permitting me to copy and
use so important a manuscript, which he had written
for publication. A stranger to Mr Evans might re-
gard his conduct as peculiar, but one acquainted with
him would not. Years before I had any thought of
writing history I had known him, and had held him
in high esteem. Far above all commonplace or per-
sonal views of what affected the general good, his
mind, to me, seemed cast in other than the ordinary
mould. At all events I was impressed by Mr Evans
as by one dwelling apart in an atmosphere of high-
mindedness such as few of his fellows could under-
stand, much less attain to.

Mr James G. Swan of Port Townsend, author of

RUSSIAN-AMEEICAN MATERIAL. 621

The Nortliivest Coast, made the subject of the coast
tribes a special stucty for some twenty years. "I find
a deal of error," he writes me the 2 2d of February
1875, "in the accounts of the early voyagers, partic-
ularly in their speculative theories in relation to the
natives ; nor is this surprising when we reflect that at
that early day the whites and Indians did not under-
stand each other, but conversed mostly by signs and
pantomime. None of these early voyagers remained
at any one place long enough to acquire the native
language; hence we find so much of error. Even
most modern writers have passed over this region
rapidly, and have jotted down their ideas without
knowing or caring whether the3Mvere correct or not."
Mr Stephen Powers gave me the use of an unpub-
lished manuscript on the manners and customs of
certain native Californian tribes among which he had
spent much time.

For material for the history of Alaska I applied
in 1874 by letter to the Kussian consul in San
Francisco, Martin Klinkofstrom, who forwarded my
communication to the academy of sciences in St
Petersburg. It happened at this time that my friend
Alphonse Pinart, ^e distinguished Americaniste who
had published several works on the Pacific coast,
more particularly of an ethnological and linguistic char-
acter, was pursuing his investigations in St Petersburg,
and to him the consul's letter was referred. Monsieur
A. Schiefner, member of the academy, writing the 6th
of June 1875, says: "Si vous trouverez que V academic
vous pourra etre utile comme intermediaire elle sera
toujours a vos services."

M. Pinart had been engaged for two years past in
collecting material on the early settlement of the
Russians on Bering sea and the north-west coast, and
on the establishment and abandonment by the Rus-
sians of Fort Ross, in Cahfornia. For this purpose
he had visited Alaska, searched France and Germany,

622 FURTHER INGATHERINGS.

and was now in St Petersburg. Writing from that
city the Gth of February 1875, he offers to place at
my free disposition all such books and documents as
he had found upon the subject. Indeed, he was offi-
cially notified so to do by M. Schiefner, to whom my
best thanks are due, and who granted M. Pinart every
facility, both on his own account and mine.

M. Pinart concludes his letter as follows: "I must
tell you that the archives of Pussia are very poor in
documents relating to Russian America, they having
been in some wa}^ destroyed. I was able to put my
hand only on very few of them. Most of the notices
relating to the colonies are printed in papers or re-
views, some of them exceedingly difficult to find."
Pinart was to be in San Francisco the following
autumn, and was to bring with him all his material.
This he did, adding rich treasures to my library. Of
such books and manuscripts as he had in duplicate, I
took one; the rest were copied in full in a translation
made for me by Mr Ivan Petroff.

A few words more upon the antecedents and efforts
of this savant: Alphonse L. Pinart was born at Mar-
quise, France, and followed the common course of
French schools in Lille and Paris. At an early day
a stronof taste for lano^uao^es manifested itself, so much
SO that during his leisure hours at college he applied
himself to the study of Sanscrit; later he attended
the lectures of Stanislas Julien on the Chinese, and
of A. Des Michels on the Cochin Chinese. During
the international exposition of 1867 in Paris, he made
the acquaintance of the Abbe Brasseur de Bourbourg,
who had spent a considerable portion of his life as
missionary at Pabinal, Guatemala, and was afterward
for a time in Mexico. Through this distinguished
man M. Pinart became interested in the Nahua and
Maya languages; and from that date he turned his
attention toward things American, prosecuting his
studies in this direction with ever increasing interest
until 1869, when he came to California.

MEXICO AND CENTRAL AMERICA. 623

In 1870-2 M. Pinart visited Alaska, and acquired
knowledge of the languages and customs of the
Aleut and Kolosh nations. Returning to Europe in
1872 he was awarded the gold medal of the French
geographical society for his explorations on the north-
west coast of America. Afterward M. Pinart spent
much time within the territory of the Pacific States,
living with the aborigines, and studying their charac-
ter and languages. During 1874-G he was in Arizona,
Sonora, Utah, Idaho, Oregon, Washington, British
Columbia, and the South Sea islands.

In 1873 M. Pinart purchased a portion of the
library of Brasseur de Bourbourg, and after the death
of the abbe, in January 1874, the rest of his books
and manuscripts fell into Pinart's hands. To all of
these M. Pinart most generously gave me free access,
and further to facilitate my labors, boxed such portions
of them as I required for my history and sent them
to my library. After I had used them, they were
returned to Marquise, where his collection was kept.

To Innokcntie, metropolitan of Moscow, lohan
Veniaminof, Russian missionary to the Aleuts, to
Admiral Lutke, and to Etholine, formerly governor
of the Russian- American possessions, I am likewise
indebted for favors.

At an early date in these annals I placed myself in
correspondence with the heads of governments lying
within the territory whose history and literature
I sought to serve. In every instance my overtures
met with a warm response. The presidents of the
Mexican and Central American republics, and all
governors of states to whom I deemed it advisable
to explain the character of my work, replied by offer-
ing me every facility at their command. My object
in this correspondence had a much broader signifi-
cance than the outpouring of compliments. As this
was some time previous to my acquisition of the
valuable works from the collection of E. G. Squier,

624

FURTHER INGATHERINGS.

I had felt the lack of Central American material
more than of any other kind. In writing the first
volumes of my history, while I had abmidance of
material for a history of the conquest of Mexico, I
found myself in the possession of less bearing upon
the history of the conquest of the more southern
parts; and of further material for modern history
I was also in want. I therefore directed Cerruti to
make energetic appeals to the supreme authorities
of these extreme southern states of my territory, and
to explain the object, progress, and importance of the
work. Indeed, I asked no great favors, nothing but
access to their historic archives.

Despite the partisan strife which had thrown the
Central American states into disorder, it gave me
much pleasure to find that my efforts to establish a
history of the indigenous and imported races, abo-
riginal, Latin, and Anglo-Saxon, of western North
America, would receive the support of these govern-
ments. It was here that aboriginal civilization had
attained its fullest proportions, and it was here that
the European first placed foot on North American
soil. These states were stepping-stones, as it were,
to the history of the more northern countries. Here
begins our history proper. Keplete are the early
chronicles with the doings of the conquistadores in
this region; and although their prominence is no
longer what it once was, although history had
troubled itself little of late with their petty conflicts,
yet they had followed in the wake of progress, and,
what was more to the point, they now displayed a
commendable interest in the historical literature of
their country. Some went much further than this,
even so far as to appoint commissioners to obtain
and forward me material. This did the presidents
of Salvador and Nicaragua. Gonzalez, president of
the republic of Salvador, in his letter of the 2 2d
of August 1874 speaks with regret of the disregard
shown in Europe for the history of Central America,

GONZALEZ, BRIOSO, CUADRA, SELVA. 625

and the consequent ignorance of Europeans as to the
real importance of that magnificent country. He is
profuse in his appreciation of my efforts in that
direction. " La simple enunciacion del nombre del
libro que U. prepara," he writes, "seria bastante
para interesar en su favor d, todo buen Americano;"
and as such a one he proffers his services. M. Brioso,
minister of foreign relations, seemed to share the pres-
ident's feelings. " Los hombres de saber," he writes
the 26th of May, ^^los hombres de pensamiento, los
hombres de Estado han saludado con entusiasmo su
primera entrega."

No less appreciative was his excellency the presi-
dent of Nicarao^ua, Vicente Cuadra. Writino: to
Cerruti from Managua the 12tli of December 1874,
he says: "Tengo la satisfaccion de decirle que el
comisionado del Gobierno, Senor don Carlos Selva,
para reunir i remitir a U. documentos relatives d,
Nicaragua cumple fiel i activamente su comision, y
que ha hecho ya algunas remesas que deseo scan
utiles al ilustrado Bancroft." I found that civil war
had unfortunately swept the country of many of its
archives. ^'Siento verdaderamente/' says President
Cuadra, ''que los archives de este pais hayan side
destruidos 6 deteriorados d, consecuencia de las vicisi-
tudes."

Under date of September 22, 1874, the commis-
sioner Carlos Selva wrote Cerruti that he had already
begun the collecting of documents for the history of
Nicaragua, and flattered himself that he should be
able to accumulate a number sufficient to enable me
to write the history of that country at least from
the date of Central American independence. At the
same time the commissioner shipped a quantity of
documents relating not only to Nicaragua but to her
sister republics. Nor did his kindness stop there:
for years thereafter he was alive to my wants, not
only as regarded manuscripts and original documents,
but printed journals and bound books. The Nica-

LlT. IND. 40

626 FUETHEE, INGATHERINGS.

raguan secretary of foreign relations, A. M. Rivas,
writes the 2d of November that private individuals
as well as the public authorities were responding
in the most satisfactory manner to the appeal made
by the government for historical data for my use.
The secretary hoped the documents already sent had
safely arrived; and regretted the loss of a great part
of the archives of the republic, they having been
destroyed when in 1856 Granada was burned by the
filibusters.

The 11th of December Vicente Cuadra in an auto-
graph letter expresses the great interest he personally
as well as officially takes in my literary efforts, and
his satisfaction in knowing that the commissioner
appointed by him was most active in the discharge
of his duties.

In an autograph letter dated at Guatemala the 4th
of December 1874, his excellency J. Rufino Barrios,
president of the republic, appeared keenly alive to the
importance of the work, and desired detailed informa-
tion regarding the kind of material sought, in order
that he might the more understandingly cooperate.
On receiving my reply, he went to work with a zeal
second to that of none of his neighbors. After this
who shall say that the republics of Central America
are one whit behind the foremost nations of the world
in their interest and active zeal toward securing a
proper record of the annals of their country !

One afternoon in May 1874 Father Fitzsimons,
an intelligent and charitable member of the order
of St Dominic, called at the library and informed
me that the priests of his order lately exiled from
Central America, had in many instances, in order
to prevent their valuable libraries from falling into
the hands of the government, delivered them to the
natives to be hidden until they should call for them;
and to strangers these custodians would undoubtedly
deny the existence of any such books. The superior
of the order, Father Villarasa, who resided at Benicia,

THE VEGA DOCUMENTS. 627

being in correspondence with many of the Central
American priests who were then returning from their
late exile, kindly interested himself to procure for
me through an authorized agent material for history
from that source.

As regards historical material at Panamd,, Mr H.
Lefevre, writing Cerruti from that city the 8th of
June 1874, says:

"Had it not been for the late disastrous fire, I could have furnished Mr
Bancroft with invaluable data touching the history of the Isthmus from the
time of its first settlement, for my father-in-law, Doctor Jos6 F. de la Ossa,
has given much of his leisure during the last forty years to collecting
original documents from all parts, even from Seville, Spain, for a work he
had undertaken touching the political history of the Isthmus. However, as
it is, the doctor may have saved something ; in fact, I myself succeeded in
getting several lots of documents and manuscripts out of the burning build-
ing. But at present the old gentleman is too much troubled to attend to
anything of the kind. I have spoken to him of your request, and he has
promised to write you lengthily after he gets a little settled. "

At my request, in 1882 M. Pinart visited Panamd,
and sent me a well filled trunk of the most important
available papers as the result of his efforts on that
occasion. Seized by fever then raging, he narrowly
escaped from the place with his life.

Soon after the war in Mexico, which grew out of
the French intervention, General Pldcido Yega, com-
mander under Juarez, brought or sent to San Fran-
cisco for safe-keeping two boxes of documents. One
was deposited with the California trust company
and the other in the Vallejo bank both being subject
to charges at the rate of two dollars a month.

The boxes were deposited in the name of General
Vallejo in 1872, and for three years thereafter noth-
ing was heard in California from Vega. As there was
httle probability that the packages would ever be
called for. General Vallejo sent to the library the
box which was at the Vallejo bank, and sent me an
order for the one at the trust company's. I was to
pay the charges and hold the documents for a rea-
sonable time subject to Vega's order, in case they

628 FURTHER INGATHERINGS.

were ever called for. Should Vega never demand the
boxes the contents would be mine.

'' I have opened the tin box," writes Cerruti of one
of them the 11th of May 1875, "and found it filled
with very important historical letters. Mr Savage,
who assisted me in the inspection, leans to the belief
that they ought to be copied. But I entertain a dif-
ferent view, because, the box being in debt four hun-
dred dollars" — this was Cerruti's characteristic way of
writing one hundred and forty-four dollars, that being
the amount due on both the boxes up to this date —
'^ I do not think it likely that the relatives of General
Vega will ever claim it. I believe, however, that an
index would not be out of place, for it would facilitate
the labor of the historian."

General Vega had taken a prominent part in the pub-
lic affairs of Mexico. He was intrusted by Juarez with
important commissions. These boxes of official and
private correspondence, accounts, etc., which were of
no small consequence to the history of that period,
were never called for.

Between the years 1876 and 1880, with official per-
mission obtained through the efforts of General Vallejo
while on a visit to Mexico in company with his son-
in-law, Frisbie, I had copies made of some of the
more important manuscripts lodged in the govern-
ment archives of the city of Mexico. This work was
superintended by my friend Ellis Bead, to whom I
tender thanks.

Mr B. C. Corbaley of the law department of the
business, attempted in 1881 to obtain legislative sanc-
tion to transfer the archives of New Mexico for a time
to my library. They were in a deplorable condition,
and I offered, if this was done, to collate and bind
them at my own cost. The proposal failing, I was
obliged to go thither and have extracted such infor-
mation as I required.

Before the visit of Dom Pedro de Alcantara, em-

THE SQUIER MANUSCRIPTS. 629

peror of Brazil, to San Francisco, I had sent an
inquiry through the ItaHan consul to the imperial
library at Rio Janeiro concerning documents for
Central American history. When the emperor was
in San Francisco in 1876 he several times visited my
library, seemd to be much interested in the work,
and promised me every assistance in his power.

In the seventh chapter of this volume I have
spoken of the sale in 1876 of the Squier collection.
Mr E. G. Squier was appointed in 1849 charge
d'affaires to Guatemala. He organized a company
for constructing an interoceanic railway through
Honduras, and assisted in surveying a route in 1853.
In 1868 he acted for a time as United States consul-
general to Honduras. Besides his Nicaragua, Serpent
Symbol, Notes on Central America, Waikna, and Hon-
duras, he published several minor works.

Squier's collection bore the same relation to Cen-
tral America that Seiior Andrade's did to Mexico.
It was by far the best in existence, better than he
himself could again make even if he had twenty years
more in which to attempt it. Most fortunate was
this sale for me, for it enabled me to strengthen my
library at its weakest point. I had found it very
difficult to gather more than the few current works
on this part of my territory; and now were poured
into my lap in one magnificent shower treasures
which I had never dared to expect. By this pur-
chase I added to the library about six hundred vol-
umes, but the number was not commensurate with the
rarity and value of the works.

It was owing to the death of Mr Squier that his
collection was sold. It consisted of over two thousand
books, sets of pamphlets, maps, and manuscripts.

By this purchase I secured, among other things,
a series of bound manuscripts of sixteenth-century
documents copied from the Spanish libraries, such as
Ddvila — reports by this renowned conquistador and

630 FURTHER INGATHERINGS.

comrades in 1519 to 1524 on matters relating to
the conquest of Panamd and Nicaragua; Cerezeda —
letters of 1529-1533 on Nicaragua and Honduras
affairs; Grijalva, Relacion de la Jornada, 1533, to
the South Sea; Pedro de Alvarado — letters, 1533
to 1541, on the conquest of Guatemala and the pro-
jected maritime expedition; Andagoya — letters on
a Panamd canal to connect the two oceans; Central
America — a collection of letters and reports, 1545 to
1555; beside which were a large number of similar
documents, bound under various names, and belonging
to the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries.

Then there was a large set relating to a more
northern district, entitled Materiales para la His-
toria de Sonora, containing letters and reports from
friars and officials copied from the Mexican archives,
such as ZuritUj Breve y Sumaria Relacion, 1554, De-
scripcion de la America, 1701-10, and others.

The most noteworthy among the printed works
from the Squier collection were Leon Pinelo, Trato de
Conjirmaciones Reales de Encomiendas, Madrid, 1G30,
bearing on the encomienda system of New Spain;
Relacion sohre. . . Lacandon, 1638, by the same author,
together with Villaquiran's appointment as governor
there, 1639, a very rare and unique copy, treating of
a journey which created great excitement at the time;
Gemelli Carreri, Giro del Hondo, part vi., Napoli,
1721, being a record of his observations in New
Spain ; Vasquez, Chronica de la Provincia . . .de Guate-
mala, Guatemala, 1714, tom. i., a rare work; Juarros,
Compendio de la Historia de Guatemala, Guatemala,
1808-18, in two volumes, indispensable to the history
of the state; Rohles, Memorias para la Historia de
CJiiapa, Cadiz, 1813; Pelaez, Memorias para la His-
toria del Antigua Guatemala, in three volumes. In
addition to the above were many important works
which I cannot enumerate, bearing on history, colo-
nization, politics, and exploration, and narratives of
travel and residence, in English, Spanish, French,

THE UTAH PROBLEM. 631

German, and Italian, and several volumes of Central
American newspapers.

During the winter of 1881-2 some valuable mate-
rial was secured and sent to the library by my agents
in Tarious parts of the world, as well as by government
officials in Washington, Mexico, Central America, and
Canada.

At the Hawaiian islands was Samuel E. Damon,
one always interested in historical research, who sent
me files of the Friend, the Polynesian, and the Neivs,
containing information since 1836 on Oregon and Cal-
ifornia, nowhere else existing. At the suggestion of
Stephen H. Phillips I wrote Lawrence McAuley,who
gave me information regarding the sale of the Pease
library, which occurred in 1871. Ten years later
George W. Stewart kindly sent me the numbers of
the Saturday Press, containing a series of articles on
early California by Henry L. Sheldon, a journalist in
California as early as 1848.

Utah was not the easiest of problems with which
to deal historically. Not that I had any hesitation
about treating the subject when once I came to it, but
prejudice against the Mormons was so strong and
universal, and of such long standing, that anything I
could say or do short of wilful and persistent vitu-
peration would not satisfy the people.

This with me was out of the question. Hate is
insane; injustice is the greatest of crimes. At the
outset in my writings I was determined that no power
on earth should influence me from the path of recti-
tude; no feeling of dislike or of favor within my
control, should sway me from telling the truth. I
would do all parties and sects justice, according to the
evidence, whichsoever way or into whatsoever pande-
monium of criticism or unpopularity such a course
might lead me. In treating of the Chinese, a fair
statement would satisfy neither one side nor the other;

632 FURTHER INGATHERINGS.

in treating of Utah, I well knew that strict impar-
tiality would bring upon me the condemnation of both
Mormons and gentiles. If this, then, was the test of
truth and fair dealing, I must subject myself to the
censure of both sides; at all events, as had been my
invariable custom in regard to sects, nationalities, and
religions, social and political prejudices, I would not
write for the approbation of one side or the other.

My sympathies, if any such existed, were with the
Mormons, knowing as I did how common it was to
grossly misuse and vilify them; and so I declared,
assuring them that I would consider the matter coolly,
disinterestedly, and as equitably as in my power lay.
But this by no means pledged me to their super-
stitions, or led me to advocate polygamy as the high-
est social condition.

The Mormons possessed stores of information that
I desired. By means of an historical office and an
officially appointed historian, and by other ways, they
had preserved the records of their doings to a re-
markable degree. Of this I soon became aware; but
although I knew I could not write a true and com-
plete history of Utah without their aid, I would in
no wise, by insinuation or intimation, commit myself
to any course, or hold out any hope to them other
than that I would treat the subject fairly, according
to my custom, as it presented itself to my mind at
the time of writing. Orson Pratt was at that time
historian and church recorder, and it had been inti-
mated to me that if I would print "without mutila-
tion" what he should write, he would furnish a complete
history of Utah. This only showed that they were
wholly mistaken in the character of my work. It
was in this state of mind that I indited the following
epistle :

"San Francisco, January 12, 1880.
"Dear Sir:

"I am in receipt of your esteemed favor informing me that your histori-
ographer, Mr Orson Pratt, will furnish valuable original material respecting
Utah, for my History of the Pacific States, now in progress, provided he might
feel assured that a fair and proper use of it would be made.

LETTER TO MR DWYER. 633

"In reply, permit me to lay before you the nature of my wt)rk and its aim,
which I will do as clearly and disinterestedly as I am able:

"The history, upon which I have been engaged for many years past, will
comprise some twenty-eight octavo volumes, of about seven hundred pages
each. The work is more than half done, and is being carried forward to
completion as rapidly as is consistent with thoroughness and proper con-
densation. The territory covered is the western half of North America, the
same embraced in my Native Races of the Pacific States; namely, Central
America and Mexico; California, Arizona, and New Mexico; Texas, Colo-
rado, and Wyoming; Utah and Nevada; Oregon, Washington, Idaho, and
Montana; British Columbia and Alaska, The Native Races is a description
of the aborigines as first seen by Europf^ans; the History of the. Pacific States
will comprise the discovery and conquest of the several parts of the country
by the Europeans, settlement, society, the organization of governments, and
all the important incidents that followed.

"It is written after a careful weighing of all gathered testimony, and is in
the strictest sense of the term digested narration — in a word, exact history.
Hence the extract of what Mr Pratt should kindly furnish me would be
added to the extracts of all other material within my reach ; for from such
admixtures, through the alembic of infinite labor and pains, my work is
distilled. To what extent Mr Pratt's material would tincture the mass it is
impossible for me to tell; I never know beforehand what I am going to
write ; but that it would palpably affect the work there is no doubt. Its
presence would be felt in proportion as it presented new truths and dis-
closed unknown facts. It would stand upon the same platform as the rest,
and would be given every opportunity to exercise its full force in shaping
the records of the nation. To write the history of Utah, or of any other
commonwealth, on the scale proposed by me, or on any other scale, one
wants all the information obtainable : all that is knovm, and all that can be
ascertained ; and though the size of the finished work need not necessarily
be increased by the increase of raw material, the quality should be assuredly
improved thereby.

"What I should like from Utah are narratives of early events, dictations,
from different persons, of their several experiences, what they saw and did
who made the history of the country. What I should like particularly from
Mr Pratt is a manuscript history of Utah from the advent of Europeans to the
present time ; who and where these people were before their westward migra-
tion; what led to their exodus from original quarters; what other objective
points beside Utah were considered in seeking a new home ; why Utah was
finally chosen ; the routes pursued by the several detachments ; the final desti-
nation of each; all the incidents connected with their preparations and jour-
neys, the seemingly trivial as well as the more apparently important ; what
they severally saw and did on arrival ; their condition, discomforts, and suffer-
ings; the selection of sites for settlement; the formation of farms, the laying
out of towns, the building of dwellings, churches, and mills; the state of
society, its composition and condition ; the founding of schools, and all other
institutions; church and state organization and relations; by whom conceived
and how controlled. Religion lying at the foundation of the movement which

634 FURTHER INGATHERINGS.

resulted in a new and isolated community, great care should be taken to give
the true and inner life of both leaders and people : what were their longings
and ambitions, what they hoped to achieve, and what course they pursued
to the accomplishment of that end; the ideas, doctrines, and power that
set in motion, and the nature and successful workings of that truly mar-
vellous machinery which sustained and governed them ; in a word, ecclesias-
tical and civil polity and history from first to last. Then I should have the
beginning of things, everything, everywhere— the first settlement, the first
town, the next, and so on; also the first house, farm, mill, church, store, etc.,
in the several localities ; minerals — gold, silver, etc. ; the discovery of metals,
the opening of mines, and the effect upon society ; the organization and oper-
ations of local and subordinate governments; the judicial system — crimes
and punishments ; something of the resources and possibilities of the country:
agriculture, irrigation, commerce, manufactures, education, amusements, and
domestic life, together with interesting incijdents and episodes.

* ' I have many such manuscripts relating to this and other parts of my
territory, some twelve hundred in all, varying in size from a few pages to five
folio volumes, covering the subjects above named in whole or in part, some
of them complete histories, written for me and at my request, though never
intended to be published, or to be used in the words written — notable among
which are : The histories of California, by Mariano G. Vallejo, Juan B. Alva-
rado, Juan Bandini, Antonio Maria Osio, and John Bidwell ; John A. Sutter's
Personal Reminiscences; Diario de Juan B. de Anza; the Relacion of Manuel
Castro ; Narracion Histdrica of Pio Pico ; Reminiscencias de California, by Jos6
de Jesus Vallejo; Mertioriasoi Jos6 Maria Amador; So que Sabe de California,
by Vicente Gomez ; Reminiscencias, by Est6van de la Torre ; Apwntes para la
Historia de la Alta California, by Florencio Serrano; two hundred bound
volumes of original documents, archives of Santa Barbara, Los Angeles, San
Diego, San Luis Obispo, Monterey, and San Francisco; thirty volumes on
Russian America; twenty-five volumes on Vigilance Committees, by William T.
Coleman, C. J. Dempster, Isaac Bluxome, M. F. Truett, and others ; William
M. Gwin's Memoirs; Walter Murray's Narrative; William A. Streeter's
Recollections; Joseph Lane's Autobiography ; Jesse Applegate's Historical
Views; Joel Palmer's Early Recollections; Female Pioneering, by Mrs. M. A.
Minto; P. W. Crawford's Overland Journey to Oregon; Peter H. Burnett's
Recollections; James S. Lawson's Autobiography ; J. Harry Brown's Oregon
Miscellanies; Matthew P. Deady's History of Oregon; Lafayette Grover's
Notable Things in Oregon; William Strong's History of Oregon; Finlayson's
History of Vancouver Island; Harvey's Life of John McLoughlin; Private
Papers of Sir James Douglas; John Tod's History of New Caledonia; A. C,
Anderson's History of the Northwest Coast; Elwood Evans' History of Oregon^
Washington, and Idaho; Private Papers of John McLoughlin; Sir James
Douglas' /owr^ia?; Groo^'^ British Columbia; Tolmie's Puget Sound; Hudson's
Bay Company's Fort Journals; McKay's Sketches; De Cosmos' British Columbia
Government; Work's Journal; Ebbert's Trapper's Life; Simon Eraser's Letters
and Journal; John Stuart's Journal; Waldo's Critiques; etc.

"It is no more than the truth to say that never before was undertaken the
history of so large and important a part of the world, upon so comprehensive

MY AIM AND OBJECT. 635

and thorough a plan. There is no considerable part of the civilized world
whose history could have been thus attempted with any possibility of suc-
cess. We of the Pacific slope are now at the turning-point between civiliza-
tion's first generation in this domain and the second. The principal facts of
our history we can now obtain beyond a peradventure. Some are yet living,
though these are fast passing away, whose adventures, counsels, and acts
constitute a part of early history. There are men yet living who helped to
make our history, and who can tell us what it is better than their sons, or
than any who shall come after them. A score of years hence few of them
will remain. Twenty years ago many parts of our territory were not old
enough to have a history ; twenty years hence much will be lost that may
now be secured.

"If I succeed in my efforts my work will constitute the foundation upon
which future histories of western North America must forever be built. The
reason is obvious. I take events from the men who made them. My facts,
for the most part, are from original sources ; and wherever the desired facts
do not appear I tap the fountain for them. He who shall come after me will
scarcely be able to undermine my work by laying another or a deeper founda-
tion. He must build upon mine or not at all, for he cannot go beyond my
authorities for facts. He may add to or alter my work, for I shall not know
or be able to tell everything, but he never can make a complete structure of
his own. Therefore, whatever Mr Pratt might favor me with would vitally
affect the status of his country before the world — would influence it, in fact,
throughout all time. No work of this character which he has ever done, or I
believe that any one at present could do, would be so important as this.

*'I will now briefly explain to you my method in the use of material:

"To what Mr Pratt, or any other whom you should sufficiently mterest
in the subject, might write for me, I would give an appropriate title, bear-
ing the author's name. I should then bind it for permanent preservation,
and use it as I use other material, giving it due prominence ; that is, notes
would be first taken ; those notes would be put with all other notes upon the
same subject, arranged so that all authorities on each point fall together, as
I have once or twice explained to you. From such combined information the
history is written, with full and constant reference to authorities, and with
biographical and bibliographical notes. There is one thing I should have
that I forgot to mention — the biographies of all the leading men of Utah
from the beginning. Besides this manuscript of Mr Pratt's, which it seems to
me would give him very marked prominence in the work, I should like to
receive all the printed matter possible to obtain. I have already a consider-
able amount, but cannot have too much — such as files of papers, books, and
pamphlets. You may think this preparation too great for the proposed result,
and the allotted space insufficient. But I am accustomed to handling large
masses of material ; and can promise, with what you may give me, to improve
the quality even if I do not increase the bulk.

"Now as to what you can depend upon in regard to myself; you have
known me both as a business man and as an author long enough to judge
how far to trust in what I say :

"My object in this work is not money. If it does not cost me over

636 FURTHER INGATHERINGS.

$200,000 more than ever comes back to me I shall be satisfied. I have no pet
theory to sustain ; nor vi^ill I ever have. I am not in the least sectarian or
partisan — that is, so far as I can judge. I am neither catholic nor protestant;
neither Mormon, methodist, nor presbyterian. I neither bend the knee to the
United States government, nor revile Utah. My religion and my politics,
such as I may have, are laid aside, so far as possible when writing, for the
occasion.

" I do not hope to satisfy the people of Utah or their opponents, because
I cannot espouse the cause of either. But I can promise to give, I think, as
fully as lies in the power of most men, a simple, truthful statement of facts. I
shall enter as fully into the sympathies, ideas, hopes, and aspirations of the
Mormons as into those of any who have ever opposed them. Whether Mor-
monism as a human or divine institution is right or wrong, I shall not deem
it any part of my duty to attempt to determine. Naturally an unbiassed
author has an affection for his subject. I shall earnestly endeavor to treat
the people of Utah with respect ; their ignorance and prejudices I shall not
overlook, nor pass by their stem morality and high endeavor. Good actions
I shall praise, bad actions condemn, wherever found; and that in the same
spirit, and under the same earnest desire to deal only exact justice. In my
inmost heart I know of no feeling unduly favoring one side more than the
other. I desii-e the hearty cooperation of the people of Utah, Mormon and
gentile, and am determined to make my work worthy of it. This you may
regard in me as too strictly judicial. But I hope not. Every truthful writer
of history must hold himself absolutely free to be led wherever the facts carry
him. The moment he becomes partisan his work is worthless. It is before the
eyes of the intelligent and disinterested throughout the world that Utah
wishes to stand well. Her own people have already their opinion which no
words of mine could change if I so desired. I shall undoubtedly find faults :
humanity is heir to them. But better a thousandfold that our faults be told
by a friend than by an enemy.

"Here, as elsewhere, I seek neither to please nor to displease. And when
for any reason I cannot feel at liberty to write unadulterated truth ; when
from fear or favor I feel constrained here to cover and there to exaggerate,
that moment I prefer to lay down my pen.

"This, then, is the point; fair-minded men, who desire to see placed be-
fore the world a true history of Utah, cannot more directly or thoroughly
accomplish the purpose, in this generation at least, than by placing within
my reach the material necessary for the building of such a work.
"Very sincerely,

"Hubert H. Bancroft."
** Jfr James Dwyer, Salt Lake City."

In answer to this were sent to me the following:

"Salt Lake City, Utah, January 27, 1880.
*'H. H. Bancroft, Esq.: —

" Jf?/ Dea7- Sir: I received your answer to my former letter some days
ago, and have read the outline of your work on Utah with much interest. I

PRESIDENT TAYLOR AND ORSON PRATT. 637

hastened to see Mr Taylor, president of the !Mormon church, and read your
letter to him. He was very much pleased with your ideas. Mr Taylor held
a council yesterday with the members of the twelve apostles, and it was
agreed that the material and all the information you need for your history
of Utah should be furnished you. The council talked of sending Mr Pratt to
San Francisco soon after the adjournment of the legislature, which is now in.
session, Mr Pratt being speaker of the house of representatives. You will
find Mr Pratt a genial gentleman. Please accept my thanks for your kind-
ness. Yours truly,

*' James Dwyer."

''Salt Lake City, U. T., Feb. 26, 1880.
"Hubert H. Bancroft, Esq., San Francisco, Col.: —

**Dear Sir: Your communication of January 12th to Mr James Dwyer
of this city, pertaining to yoUr desire to obtain original material through our
church historian, Prof. Orson Pratt, respecting the history of Utah for your
History of the Pacific States, has been handed to me for perusal and consid-
eration. I have given the matter some attention, and consulted with Prof,
0. Pratt and others of our leading citizens pertaining therelo. In consequence
of Prof. Pratt being engaged for some time past as speaker of the house of
representatives of our territorial legislature, he has not been able to give
the subject that attention he has desired to, and which must be our excuse
for not wiiting you sooner.

"We fully realize your position and ability to accomplish this much-
desired work ; and from the manner represented by you of what is needed,
and of obtaining the required data from which to compose this history, we
find it will be considerable expense to us to furnish and put in proper shape
such data and facts that we are in possession of ; yet feel encouraged to pro-
ceed with the work, in view of the great good we anticipate will be accom-
plished in placing before the world those facts, of which the majority are
more or less ignorant.

*'I shall be pleased to place myself in direct communication with you on
this subject, and to be informed what period of time we can have to gather
this material to meet your necessities for writing, and shall be pleased to re-
ceive any further suggestions you may have to offer.

" Respectfully yours,

"John Taylor."

" Salt Lake City, June 10, 1880.
"Hubert H. BANCRorr, Esq., San Francisco, Cal.: —

''Dear Sir: I am reminded by our mutual friend, Mr Dwyer, that you are
quite ready for the material which we design to furnish for your forthcoming
history of Utah.

"I have found that to collate the facts for such a work with certainty,
covering the broad grounds indicated in your letter of suggestions dated
Jan. 12, 1880, is a great labor; and that we are liable to expend much time
over items that might prove of little or no value to you when obtained.

638 FURTHER INGATHERINGS.

With a view to avoid this, and to come immediately and as efficiently as pos-
sible to your aid, I propose to furnish you at once with the current docu-
mentary history of our territory and church as we have it in print, believing
that this, with such oral information as I might be able to give, would let you
at once to the labor ; and any necessary information not thereby available
could be directly aimed at and probably obtained as soon and as fast as
needed for the work.

"It is our desire to furnish you all that you may wish, while we are too
closely occupied to spend much time and labor unnecessarily.

"Should this method suit your purpose, an early reply to that effect will
cause the material to be placed before you without delay.
"Yours very respectfully,

"Orson Pratt, Sen,"

"Salt Lake City, U. T., July 1, 1880.
** Hubert H. Bancroft, Esq., San Francisco, Cat.: —

"Dear Sh': On account of the very feeble state of my health I find myself
obliged to decline the labor of supplying material for a history of our territory.

"This duty is transferred to the Hon. Franklin D. Richards, one of our
leading influential citizens, who has been one of the most active and zealous
laborers in assisting to found Utah and to establish her institutions. Mr Rich-
ards has labored much abroad on foreign missions, as well as on home service,
and is familiar with the genius, spirit, and polity of our institutions, whether
ecclesiastical or civil — he having served in both houses of the legislature for
many years, and for the last ten years as probate and county judge of Weber
county. My own personal acquaintance and association with Mr Richards
enable me to introduce and recommend him to you as one who is both com-
petent and zealously inclined to render you the necessary aid to get out such
a history of Utah as shall do credit to the head and heart of its author, and
justice to an honest and virtuous, but a greatly maligned and misrepresented,
people.

"Permit me to make very grateful acknowledgment of your kindness in
offering me the hospitality of your own house, and to say that any kindness
you may show to my friend and brother Richards will be very truly appre-
ciated.

" With considerations of respect,

" I am, yours truly,

"Orson Pratt, Sen."

"Salt Lake City, Utah, July 1, 1880.
"Hubert H. Bancroft, Esq., San Francisco, Cat.: —

"Dear Sir: In consequence of the feeble health of the Hon. Orson Pratt,
he will not be able, as was contemplated, to attend with you in your re-
searches of material pertaining to the history of Utah, which we propose to
furnish you for your History of the Pacijic States.

" I, however, take great pleasure in informing you that the Hon. Fraiiklin

FRANKLIN D. RICHARDS. 639

D. Richards has been requested to represent the Hon. Orson Pratt and myself
in this matter. He is one of our leading and respected citizens, and a gentle-
man who is fully conversant in literary and legal matters ; and has served as
a member in both branches of our territorial legislature during several ses-
sions, and officiated as probate judge for Weber county for the past ten
years. He has travelled extensively in Europe and in this country, and has
an experience which makes him fully competent and adequate to render all
the information requisite pertaining to the rise and progress of the territory
of Utah ; also of our institutions, either religious or civil. He is now nearly
prepared to start for San Francisco, and will take with him the historical
data referred to.

"With feelings of the highest esteem,

"I am, yours truly,

"John Taylor."

Mr Richards came, and I found him everything I
could desire. With him, and in hearty sympathy, was
Mrs Kichards, who had been married and joined to
the church prior to the divine revelation of polygamy.
He was a man of varied experience, who had seen
much of the world, and had at his command a vast
fund of information. He was of singularly humane
and benevolent mien, and, except on points pertain-
ing to his faith, possessed of broad views and liberal
ideas. He held to his faith as other men hold to
theirs, and I fully accorded him this liberty. I Vv^ould
not say that he was any more a hypocrite than the
catholic priest or the presbyterian preacher. It did
not concern me what w^ere his ideas regarding the
divine mission of Joseph Smith, or the inspiration of
the book of Mormon ; and if with three or six women
he had entered into marriage relations, I did not pro-
pose to follow public sentiment and fight him for it.
In fact each of us entertained too much respect for
the other to attempt coercion or conversion. I desired
the facts concerning the coming of his people to Utah,
and their settlement; I wanted them for a beneficial
purpose, and the Mormon leaders believed I would use
them properly. They were satisfied, on my assurance
to that effect, that I would not warp these facts to
their prejudice, that I would spare them that vilifica-
tion to which they were so accustomed; and although

640 FURTHER INGATHERINGS.

they knew that I was not a Mormon, that my nature
was as foreign to the reception of the doctrines of
Joseph Smith as oil to water, and that I was not at
all likely to advocate the policy of plurality of wives,
yet they believed I would do what they claimed had
never yet been done by a gentile, namely, give them
friendly and fair treatment.

Mr and Mrs Kichards spent the greater part of
July in San Francisco, most of the time as my guests.
While Mr Richards was giving a fortnight's dictation
to my reporter at the library, Mrs Richards imparted
to Mrs Bancroft much information concerning female
life and society in Utah, which was also preserved in
writing. In addition to this, and to many manuscript
reminiscences, and county and local histories, the
Mormon church furnished me with a great mass of
material printed since 1832, and contained in the
Millennium Star, the Deseret News, Times and Seasons,
political and religious pamphlets, the Frontier Guar-
dian, Pratt's Works, and other like publications.

"The council were pleased with the report given
of our visit and labors in San Francisco," writes Mr
Richards from Ogden the 8th of August, "and desire
to give all needful information for your use." In a
second letter, dated November 26th, he says: "Pur-
suant to suggestions in your note of the 21st inst., I
have the pleasure to forward to your address historical
sketches of thirty-six settlements, towns, or counties
from various parts of this territory. Of this number
the following are county seats : Toquerville, Beaver,
Grantsville, Heber City, Prove, St George, Brigham
City, Nephi, and Richfield. Salt Lake City and Logan
are in preparation, while Ogden, unfinished, you have;
these are each county towns also. Gunnison Massacre,
by Bishop Anson Call; Autobiography of Parley P.
Pratt; Report of Jubilee Conference Ajoril 6,1880, and
Utah Pioneers Celebration July 2Mh; Travels and
Ministry of President Orson Hyde; Fugitive Poems,
by Mary J. Tanner, with manuscript accounts of her

IDAHO AKD MONTANA MATERIAL. 641

experience, and those of Mrs Nancy N. Tracy and
Mrs Martha H. Brown."

Among others to whom I am indebted for informa-
tion on Utah are Governor Wood, Mayor Little,
WiUiam Clayton, A. P. Eockwood, George Q. Cannon'
Sumner Howard, Daniel Tyler, Miss Snow, E. W.
TuUidge, Christopher Diehl, P. E. Connor, H. S. El-
dridge, O. H. Riggs, and George A. Black.

Granville Stuart interested himself in my behalf
in Montana, and through him, and by various other
means, I was enabled to secure from that quarter,
including Idaho, sufficient for my purpose. I insert
the following letter from Wilbur F. Sanders, who is
entitled to the highest praise for untiring efforts,
under singular discouragements, to secure to his
country something of its history:

** Helena, Montana, March 4, 1874.
"Sir: The historical society of Montana recently met with a serious dis-
aster ; on the 9th of January its archives, library, and property were destroyed
by fire. The loss was as sudden as it was remarkable. The building in
which it had its rooms had survived the destruction of an adjoining frame
building by fire, which, having been replaced with brick, left us confident of
security, which the event has shown was fancied. We had labored under
many disadvantages, but had gathered much material having relation to the
mountains and plains generally, as well as much pertaining to what is now
Montar^a territory. Our library, if not large, contained many rare books.
Haviiig had opportunities to compare with other like societies what we had
done, we felt we had abundant reason to congratulate ourselves, at least.
The interest in our society had greatly increased within the last two years,
and I feel sure our disaster will but serve to intensify it; indeed, we con-
template the erection of a building of our own the coming spring. It was
not of these matters, however, I had intended to write. With renewed
energy we trust to replace what we so suddenly lost, and while absorbed in
some other business to-day, I glanced my eye over the Overland, and saw
that you had taken a wide interest in subjects of historical research pertaining
to the Pacific coast. I am glad of it, for in my visits to your city it occurred
to me that it was the most inviting field I knew ; and notwithstanding your
historical society, which had the misfortune to fall into the hands of the
fathers, who are not worldly enough, and to be located outside San Fran-
cisco, I am still of that opinion. I thought perhaps you might have a cata-
logue of your library or some description of it which you could furnish us,
and that your suggestions would be of great advantage to us. The upper
Lit. Ind. 41

642 FURTHER INGATHERINGS.

Columbia, Yellowstone, and Missouri are our specialties, but all this region
on either side of the mountains has a history of most absorbing and romantic
interest. If you can aid us in the manner I have indicated, you will place us
under lasting obligations, which we shall be pleased to reciprocate as we may
be able.

"Very respectfully, your obedient servant,

"W. F. Sanders, President.
*'H. H. Bancroft, Esq., San Francisco, Gal."

To Mr Charles L. Mast, for many years of the law
department of the business, I am indebted for a full
file of the San Francisco Post, besides unremitting
exertions throughout the period of my entire work,
in gathering from many sources public documents and
other material for my work.

These ingathering experiences, as may well be sur-
mised, were not always smooth and pleasant. Much
that was annoying, much that was exasperating, has
been left unsaid. There is one case, however, that
should not be passed unnoticed.

All their lives John Charles and Jessie Fremont
had been railing against the world, all their lives had
they been complaining of the injustice done them.
Their own conduct had always been beyond reproach;
only the rest of mankind were desperately wicked.
Loudly for thirty years they had clamored for justice,
without pausing to consider whether the gods in
answering their prayers might not lead them to
chastisement.

I did not care for much about themselves — they
are not particularly pleasing historical subjects; and
besides, they had already told what they knew, and
perhaps more than they knew. But aware that they
felt aggrieved, and desirous of treating their case,
like all others, with strict impartiality, I called upon
them, explained fully the character of my work, and
invited them to place before me the data for a correct
statement of their grievances. They affected great
interest. Mrs Fremont, as the regnant avenger of her
husband's wrongs, vowed she would incontinently bring

THE MERCENARY FR^MONTS. 643

John Charles to the front, open his mouth, and catch
the fury flowing thence upon her pure paper; hkewise
John Charles roused himself to say it should be done.

Thus matters stood for two or three years, the
Fremonts always promising but never performing. I
could not understand it; it seemed to me so grand
an opportunity to accomplish what they had always
pretended to covet, namely, their proper place in his-
tory. I had no earthly object in approaching them
other than the ascertaining of simple honest truth. I
did not believe with them that they had been so
badly maligned; all the world do not unite in con-
demning a good man. But I would hear and weigh
well what they had to say.

At last it came out: they wanted money. Mar-
riott of the News Letter, who was their special friend
in San Francisco, saw their opportunity, which he
urged them to embrace; he even hinted, unknown
to me, that I would pay them to write. He knew
them better than I, for I had never suspected their
mighty wrongs would creep for lucre; besides, it was
their aifair, not mine. It was not pure or original
material for history they were to give me, for of that
they had none; they had published their story, and
it was already in my library. If, indeed, they were
in the possession of knowledge belonging to their
country, it could scarcely be called praiseworthy to keep
it back for a price, when they had been, the greater
part of their lives, fed and clothed at public expense.

Let us see the effect the bare prospect of glittering
gold had upon this chivalrous and public-spirited pair.
Writing Marriott from Staten Island the 18th of
October, 1877, Mrs Fremont says:

" I fully appreciate the trouble you took to write me so long a letter, but
it svas not needed to convince either the general or myself of the importance
of the writing of which you speak. Everything, for some years past, has
been put aside for the one purpose of obtaining justice, and to do this,
making money enough to keep wheels moving and gain that power which
only money gives . . . Just now ready money is the most essential point, and
therefore the end of your letter is one that makes it possible . do this

644 FURTHER INGATHERINGS.

writing. . .It did not fall to the lot of many women to be *so fathered and sO'
husbanded' as I have been. . .Will you assure Mr Bancroft this work shall
be done?"

Likewise John Charles, upon hearing the distant
dink of coin, hfts his voice like an old war-horse at
the alarm of battle :

*' It certainly would be a most pleasant work," he writes Marriott three
days after the date of Mrs Fremont's letter, "to occupy a little time in setting
the past right, and no part of my life has for me the same interest that
attaches to the period about which you write; and nowhere could those
transactions be set out with the enduring authority of Mr Bancroft's great
work. Chance threw me into the midst of those events. It was a fortunate
chance for me, and it would be an equally fortunate one for me if the part
which fell to me could be freely set out in his work. The question is, how can
I avail myself of the opportunity? As you say, it will presently be too late,
and the narrow things at home just now are rigidly inflexible on me. You
Bay in the postscript that Mr Bancroft would willingly pay some reasonable
sum for the manuscript compiled as he would wish. Would he be willing to
advance something of this to enable me to give it the time now? If he would
do so, I would immediately set myself in a quiet corner, get my papers into
order, and go at the work without the loss of a day. Will you speak of it to
him? If he decides for it, I should like to know what interval of time he
would wish it to cover, and how full he would wish it written. I think I
could make it of itself an interesting work. I have always had in mind the
publishing of a work to embrace the unpublished journeys of 1845-7, '48-9,
and '53, and not long since had some conferences with publishers on the
subject.

' ' I have the material, and some years ago had some thirty plates engraved
on copper and steel, and some twenty wood -cuts. If I should write the
sketch for Mr Bancroft, I would abandon the idea of any publication, for the
reason that his work sets the historical past right, and this is all I care for.
Perhaps he might use, if his work permits it, some six or ten of the plates,
which were the work of the best artists m Paris, London, and Philadelphia.
Would be glad if it should suit Mr Bancroft to make the arrangement. We
should all of us deeply regret to stand wrong in his work. It would be a
great misfortune. To be right there, would be most valuable to me in every
way, and it would constitute a rallying-point for every other part of my life,
such as it was. Pray give the earliest convenient attention to this, and if
you have occasion to write or telegraph me, do so to the address at the head
of this note."

Now of all cool propositions ever made me, this of
John Charles was the most frigid. In the first place,
I did not want a ''manuscript compiled" by him,
and 'ould scarcely pay money for such a document

VERY POOR PATRIOTISM. 645

The most I ever cared for from him was some ex-
planation on certain disputed points, on matters not
clearly settled, and which for the most part called in
question his own fair fame. Secondly, why should I
pay him money for patching his tattered reputation ?
But most ridiculously extravagant of all was the
proposition that I should send him payment in ad-
vance. Mr Fremont was alwaj^s a man of great
expectations; had I sent him a check for five thou-
sand dollars at the beginning of his work, and a like
amount at the completion of it, he w^ould never have
dreamed himself overpaid for throwing together and
commenting upon, to the furtherance of his individual
reputation, a quantity of matter the most of which was
already in my hands in much better shape for my pur-
pose. At this rate five millions of dollars would not
have sufficed for the knowledge to which the public
was justly entitled without the payment of a dollar;
what this man did for the United States, while in
the pay of the United States, the people of the
United States had a right to know.

To the magnificent proposal of John Charles I paid
not the slightest attention. Thinking, however, that
the Fremont family might be led astray by Marriott's
money proposals, I wrote to Mrs Fremont as follows,
the 30th of October:

" Mr Marriott has shown me your letter of recent date, or that part of it
bearing upon my former request. I see that he has spoken of compensation
for such material as yon may furnish. While I deem it very important to
General Fr(5mont, to the public, and to myself, that the general's own version
of certain events be under my eye as I record California's annals, yet I would
by no means obtain that version at the cost of possible future dissatisfaction
on your part. I have never paid, and cannot i:>ay for original historical tes-
timony. I have, however — and it was to this that Mr Marriott referred in
his letter to you — paid in some cases, at a maximum rate of twenty cents
per folio, for the actual labor of writing down such testimony. This I will
gladly do in the case of General Fremont, if he will give me a complete nar-
rative of events in California from March to July 1846, including full details
of his own acts and motives."

I would here state that in saying I did not pay
and had never paid for original historical testimony,

646 FURTHER INGATHERINGS.

I did not refer to books, manuscripts, or documents,
but to knowledge in the mouths of Hving witnesses.
Thousands of dollars had I expended in committing
such knowledge to writing, and I would cheerfidly
have remunerated the copyist fairly in the case of
General Fremont; but to pay the narrator money,
except by way of charity, as in the case of Alvarado,
or in the way of expenses or entertainment, I n^er
could make up my mind to do.

Intellectual wealth can only exist as the common
property of the body social. Knowledge as a means
of civilization is valueless except it be promulgated.
It matters little how high the state of cultivation
arrived at by the individual, unless he impress it in
some form upon his age. Hoarded facts, like hoarded
coin, are absolutely worthless. He who having knowl-
edge of public events valuable to posterity withholds
it for gain, is beyond the reach of words condemnable.
Bringing into the world absolutely nothing, the pre-
served experiences of all men and ages are freely
placed at his disposal, while he, stingily grudging his
poor pittance, carries it with him into the realm eter-
nal, where it is not of the slightest use to him. Later
we learned that Fremont really had little to say.

In my comments upon those with whom I came
more immediately in contact while searching for
material, it should be understood that I am pro-
nouncing judgment purely from a collector's point of
view. I would not have it appear that frowns,
surly refusals, and withholding information of a public
character for money, governed my opinion of a man's
character in other respects. Because a man did not
regard me or my work with favor, it did not neces-
sarily follow that he was a bad husband or citizen,
that he was dishonest or of base instincts. I believe
I may truthfully say with Martial, '^Parcere personis,
dicere de vitiis." It has been my constant aim in
all my writings to lash vice, but to spare persons.

THE OSIO HISTORY. 647

I speak only of their conduct in such connection, and
pronounce my opinion upon it. Of those who said
plainly they would have nothing to do with my lite-
rary affairs I never complained. There were several
such in Vigilance Committee matters, and I do not
even mention their names. I grant every one the
right to exercise his own pleasure, and do not expect
all to think on every subject as I do. There was
Pacheco, who pledged me in faithful promises, which
he faithlessly broke. He said he had papers and
would give them to me ; I do not know that he had
them, as I never saw them. He pretended to personal
friendship, to friendship for my work, which rendered
his failure to keep faith with me all the more exasper-
ating. Fremont's record, in many respects, is not such
as to command the respect of any fair-minded man.
My treatment of him in history w^as made up purely
from the records, and was in no way affected by his
failure to fulfil his promises.

From Mission San Jose Cerruti writes the 18th of
April 1875:

"A few days ago Mr Osio, a resident of California in 1826, arrived in San
Francisco, dragging along with him a manuscript history of the early times
in California. I believe he originally intended to give it to your library,
but certain persons whose acquaintance he happened to make induced him
to reconsider his resolution, and made him believe that there was money in
it. Actuated by that belief, he has given his manuscript to ISIr Hopkins,
keeper of the archives in San Francisco, with a prayer for enough subscribers
to pay for printing it. I believe, with judicious diplomacy and a little coin,
you could get some person to purchase the manuscript for your library. I
think jSIr Knight would be the right man. If I thought I could gain a
point by going to San Francisco I would cheerfully do so; but I fear my
mixing in the matter would cause a rise in the price of the manuscript. "

Being in San Jose one day in November 1877,^ I
called on Juan Malarin in relation to the Osio his-
tory, which Vallejo, Cerruti, Savage, and others, had
at various times during tlie past three years en-
deavored to obtain. The original of this important
work belonged to J. E. Arques of Lawrence station,
into whose hands it fell as executor of the estate

648 FURTHER INGATHERINGS.

of Argliello, to whom the manuscript was presented by
the author. Oslo was then Uving in Lower Cahfornia.

Malarin was non-committal : said he had no owner-
ship in the manuscript, but did not think Arques
would regard favorably the proposition to lend me
the manuscript, though he did not say why. Mr John
T. Doyle had taken a copy of it; likewise James A.
Forbes. From the latter Malarin thought I might
obtain a copy if I was prepared to pay down money
enough. On returning to San Francisco I imme-
diately called on Mr Doyle, who, as soon as I had
stated my errand, exclaimed: ''You shall have the
manuscript, and may copy it; and anything else that
I have is at your disposal. You have fairly earned
the right to any historical material in California, and I
for one am only too glad to be able to acknowledge
that right in some beneficial way." That settled the
matter.

About this time I found myself greatly in need of
a manuscript history of the Bear Flag movement
by Mr Ford, a prominent actor in the scene. The
manuscript was the property of the reverend doctor
S. H. Willey of Santa Cruz, to whom I applied for
it. Doctor Willey responded cheerfully and promptly,
not only sending me the Ford manuscript, with per-
mission to copy it, but also other valuable material.
''I take pleasure in lending it to you," he writes,
''that it may contribute possibly to accuracy and
incident in your great work. The manuscript needs
considerable study before it can be read intelligently.
Mr Ford was not much accustomed to writing. Gen-
eral Bidwell says he was a very honest man, but a
man liable to be swayed in opinion by the prejudices
of his time. His manuscript seems to modify the
current opinion touching Mr Fremont's part in Bear
Flag matters." Doctor Willey also gave me a very
valuable manuscript narrative of his own recollections.

Notwithstanding all that had been done up to this

YET OTHER EFFORTS. 649

time, I felt that I should have more of the testimony
of eye-witnesses. Particularly among the pioneers of
and prior to 1849, and among the native Californians
inhabiting the southern part of the state, there was
information, difficult and costly to obtain, but which
I felt could not be dispensed with.

Mr Oak suggested we should make one more ap-
peal, one final effort, before finishing the note-taking
for California history; and to this end, the 25th of
August 1877, he addressed over his own signature
a communication to the San Francisco Bulletin, re-
viewing what had been done and sketching what was
still before us.

Extra copies of this article were printed and sent
to school-teachers and others throughout the coast,
with the request that they should call upon such early
settlers as were within their reach and obtain from
them information respecting the country at the time
of their arrival and subsequently. For writing out
such information, for one class would be paid twenty
cents a folio, and for another less desirable class and
one more easily obtained, fifteen cents a folio was
offered. Not less than five thousand direct applica-
tions were thus made, and with the happiest results;
besides which Mr Leighton, my stenographer, took
some sixty additional dictations in and around San
Francisco, and Mr Savage made a journey south, a
full account of which is given in another place. Thus
I went over the ground repeatedly, and after I had
many times congratulated myself that my work of
collecting was done; in truth I came to the conclu-
sion that such work was never done.

CHAPTEK XXVI.

PRELIMINARY AND SUPPLEMENTAL VOLUMES.

Periculosae plenum opus aleae,
Tractas; et incedis per ignes
Suppositos cineri doloso. Horace,

As I have elsewhere remarked, the soul and cen-
tre of this literary undertaking was the History of the
Pacific States; the Native Races being preliminary, and
the California Pastoral, Inter Pocula, Popular Tribunals,
Essays and Miscellany, and Literary Industries supple-
mental thereto. To the history appears a biographi-
cal section entitled Chronicles of the Builders of the
Commonwealth.

Of the inception and execution of the Native Races
I give elsewhere the full history. The California
Pastoral, if not born so absolutely of necessity, was
none the less a legitimate offspring. In the history
of California under the dominion of Mexico, many
of the most charming features in the precincts of
home and minor matters, in the peculiarities of the
people, and regarding their social and political be-
havior under the influence of their isolation and
strange environment, were necessarily omitted. Of
that remaining from this superabundance of material,
I took the best, and weaving with it some antique
foreign facts and later fancies of my own, I embodied
the result in a separate volume, and in a more attract-
ive form than could be presented in condensed history.

In like manner into a volume entitled California
Inter Pocula were thrown a multitude of episodes and
incidents following or growing out of the gold discov-

^ 650 )

'PASTORAL' AND *INTER POCULA'. 651

ery, which could not be vividly portrayed without a
tolerably free use of words, and could not be con-
densed into the more solid forms of history without, to
some extent, stifling the life that is in them, and mar-
ring their originality and beauty. Indeed, of this
class of material, engendered during the flush times
and afterward, I had enough left over of a good qual-
ity to fill a dozen volumes.

It is difficult to imagine a more miraculous trans-
formation of human affkirs, upon the same soil and
under the same sky, than that which occurred in
California during the years 1848 and 1849. Prior to
this time, the two stretches of seaboard five hundred
miles on either side of San Francisco bay and run-
ning back to the summit of the Sierra, was occupied
by races of two several shades of duskiness, and divers
degrees of intelligence, the one representative of the
lowest depths of savagism, and the other the most
quiescent state of civilization. The former went
naked, or nearly so, ate grasshoppers and reptiles,
among other things, and burrowed in caves or hid
themselves away in brush huts or in thickets. The
latter dreamed life lazily away, lapped in every luxury
bounteous nature could offer, unburdened by care,
delighting in dress and display, but hating work and
all that self-denying effort which alone brings superi-
ority. These migrated Mexicans attended with scrup-
ulous regularity alike on all the ordinance of the
priests of Christ and the disciples of Satan, and then
passed into the hereafter without ever knowing how
completely they had been deceived.

On all sides there was a condition of things which
seems to have set at defiance the laws of evolution,
and to have turned backward the wheels of progress.
While enjoying the most favorable surroundings, even
savagism appears to have degenerated, while the civi-
lization of Spain was rapidly falling into a kind of
catholic savagism. In the place of those new neces-
sities which are usually generated by new activities

652 PRELIMINARY AND SUPPLEMENTAL VOLUMES.

when predatory tribes cease from dissipating their
whole time in war, there was here utter stagnation
among those both of the American and the Latin race.
As matters then stood there was no more hkeUhood
of immediate improvement in the way of art or
science than that a spinning-wheel or steam-engine
should be constructed by a people to whom cotton or
iron was unknown. Instead of higher forms being
here evolved from lower, it would seem that reptiles
were springing from birds and monkeys from men.
Theology, though dogmatic, was in a measure stripped
of its sting. Whatever their practice, their code of
ethics was as far as possible removed from the domain
of common sense. And even in the more advanced
communities, if social, moral, and religious prejudices
were analyzed instead of blindly cherished, what a
world of folly would be revealed !

In the far north, along this same coast, at this very
time were two other phases of life, both of which were
abnormal and individual, one being represented by the
Muscovite, the other by the Anglo Saxon. While Bar-
anof sat in Sitka, John McLoughlin on the Columbia
ruled, to the full measure of life and death, a hundred
savage nations, occupying an area five times as large
as that of the British Isles. Socrates said that
parents should not marry their children because of
the discrepancy in their ages. One would think so
great a philosopher as Socrates might have found a
better reason for forbidding so monstrous a crime
ao^ainst nature. The autocrat of Fort Vancouver ad-
vocated the marriage of chief factors and traders with
the daughters of Indian chiefs, setting the example
himself by mingling his blood with that of the
American aboriginal. One would think that so grand
a gentleman as McLoughlin should need a better rea-
son than wealth, power, position, or the mandate of a
monopoly to compel him to forego noble succession
and spawn upon the world a hybrid race. "It is the
rich who want most things," says the Chinese pro-

'ESSAYS' AND 'INDUSTRIES.' 655

verb ; the blessed poor of New Caledonia, besides the
hope of heaven, might have children of their own
race. If God made me for bright immortalit}'^, well ;
if for opaque gloom, why then well also ; I am not a
grub that may transform itself into a butterfly ; but
while in this world, whatever betides, I may always
be a man, and father none who can justly lay at
my door the cause of their degeneration, mental or
physical. '

In regard to the volumes entitled Essays and Mis-
cellany and Literary Industries they shall speak for
themselves. But of my two volumes called Popular
Tribunals I will here make a few explanations.

The publication of the Native Races began the 1st
of October, 1874, and continued with the appearance
of a volume every three months until Christmas,
1875, at which time complete sets of the whole five
volumes were for sale in the several styles of binding.

Never at any time was I in a state of great anxiety
to publish. There was ever before me a healthy fear
of the consequences. I could always wait a little
longer before seeing my fondest ambition, perhaps,
dashed to earth. There was, no doubt, some feverish
eagerness prior to the publication of the Native Races,
regarding the manner in which it would be received ;
but ever after that, it was in the quality and progress
of my writings that I chiefly concerned myself, the
end being a matter to be regretted rather than a con-
summation devoutly to be longed for. There was
with me a constant anxiety to press forward my writ-
ing ; I had but a short time to live and very much to
do. But when I saw how my first work was received,
and how I should stand with the literary world after
its publication, I determined to print nothing more
for several years. I had several reasons for adopting
such a resolution.

In the first place I had nothing ready to publish ;
and no one ever realized more fully than myself that

654 PRELIMINARY AND SUPPLEMENTAL VOLUMES.

it takes time and work to make a good book. History
writing cannot be hurried. Certain years of time are
necessary for the preparation of every volume, some
more and some less, and twenty men iPor five years I
estimate as equivalent to one man one hundred years.
It is true I could carry forward certain volumes col-
lateral to the history whose publication I had planned,
but all these I thought best to hold back until after
the history proper was published.

In the next place I thought it better to give the
public a little rest. I did not wish to weary people
of the subject.

My books were heavy and expensive, and to issue
them too rapidly might cheapen them in the eyes of
some. But more than any other reason why I would
publish nothing more for several years was this : I
had now, so to say, the ear of the public. I stood as
well as the author of a first book could stand. What-
ever of good opinion there was abroad for me and for
my work I would keep and give all the benefit of it
to my history.

It was my ambition to do for this last western
earth's end what Homer did for Greece, with these
differences : Homer dealt in myths, I should deal in
facts ; Homer's were the writings of poetical genius,
mine of plodding prose. And yet as Herder says of it,
*'Als Homer gesungen hatte, war in seiner Gattung
kein zweiter Homer denkbar; jener hatte die Bltithe
des epischen Krauzes gepfluckt und wer auf ihn folgte,
muszte sich mit einzelnen Blattern begnugen. Die
griechischen Trauerspieldichter wahlten sich also eine
andere Lauf bahn ; sie aszen, wie ^schylus sagt, vom
Tische Homer s, bereiteten aber fur ihr Zeitalter ein
anderes Gastmal."

Bight well I knew that often literary failure had
been followed by literary success and vice versa. Now
I would not that my second attempt should prove in-
ferior to the first. When once the ultimate of my
capabilities was attained I would stop. I labored for

'POPULAR tribunals; 655

the strength it gave me ; when it should result in men-
tal or moral weakness then my life's work was done.

In the supplementary works I indulged in a wider
latitude as to the choice of subjects, the expression of
opinion, and giving my faculties freer play in the exe-
cution. Consequently, while they were more myself
than almost any of my other work, they were more
open to criticism, and would be, I felt sure, severely
viewed in certain quarters. Hence it was that, all
things considered, I resolved to write some twenty vol-
umes before printing further, and rewrite until I should
be satisfied, when I would have them copied so as
to divide the risk of fire, — which was done.

During the two years and more my assistants were
engaged in taking out notes on California history, I
wrote the two volumes entitled Popular Tribunals,
making of it at first three volumes and then reducing
it. I began this work in 1875, finished the first writ-
ing of it in 1877; revising and publishing it ten years
later. I began it as an episode of Californian history
which would occupy three or four chapters, and which
I could easily write during the three or four months
in which I supposed the note-takers would be engaged.
The note-taking was six times the labor I had antici-
pated, and so was Popular Tribunals.

As I did not like to interrupt the note-taking, which
was being done under the direction of Mr Oak, I de-
rived little help on this work from my assistants.
When at Oakville, White Sulpher springs, or Santa
Cruz, such material as I lacked I wrote for and it was
sent to me.

The method I adopted in this writing was as fol-
lows : The subject seemed to divide itself about
equally between the outside or public workings of the
institution, and the inner or secret doings. For the
former, there were the journals of the day, and a few
disordered and partial statements printed in books.
There was no history of the vigilance committee
movement in existence.

656 PRELIMINARY AND SUPPLEMENTAL YOLUMES.

As a rule newspaper reports are not the most re-
liable testimony upon which to base history. But in
this instance this class of evidence was the very best
that could exist. Spreading before me six or eight of
the chief journals of the day, I had in them so many
eye-witnesses of the facts, written by keen fact-hunt-
ers while the incidents were yet warm, and thrown out
among a people who knew as much of what was go-
ing on as the newspaper reporters themselves, so that
every misstatement was quickly branded as such by
jealous, competing journals and by a jealous public.
Here was every advantage. For the transactions of
each day, and each hour, I could marshal my wit-
nesses, taking the testimony of each as it was given
according to actual occurrence, taking it with a full
knowledge of the prejudices and proclivities of each
witness. Thus for a review of each day's doings,
radical on the side of vigilance, 1 took the Bulletin,
For description of the same events from the rabid law
and order point of view, I examined the Herald, For
more moderate expression of facts and opinions still
leaning to the side of vigilance, I looked through the
Alta California, the Sacramento Union, the Courier,
Chronicle, and Town Talk.

Thus at my command were a dozen or twenty report-
ers to search the city for items and give them to me ;
and thus I went over the several years of this episode,
point by point, bringing in, connecting, condensing,
until I had a complete narrative from the beginning
to the end, of all these strange doings.

This for the outside of the subject. But there yet
remained an inner, hidden, and hitherto obstinately
veiled part, which was now for the first time to be
revealed. There had been at various times, both be-
fore and after the disbandment of the committee, pro-
posals for publishing a history of the movement, but
none of them had been seriously entertained by the
committee. Indeed it was not regarded as safe to re-
veal their secrets. These men had broken the law.

THE MEN OF VIGILANCE. 657

and while in truth they were law-abiding citizens,
they were subject to punishment by the law. Secrecy
had been from the beginning the cardinal virtue of the
association. Absolute good faith, one toward another ;
it was herein their great strength and efficiency lay.

There might be some members more fearless, and
with broader and more intelligent views than the
others, who could see no objection to placing on
record for the benefit of mankind, in subsequent ages,
the whole truth and details of the tragical afiairs of
the association, who yet did not feel at liberty to do
so as long as others interposed objections. Such ob-
jections were interposed, and such denials given,
many times, until at last the question arose : Should
these things ever be revealed ? or should the secrets
of the executive committee die with the death of
the members? I sent Cerruti after these men, but
Italian blandishments seemed to have greater effect
upon his more volatile brothers of the Latin race,
than upon these hard-headed, cold-blooded Yankees.
One of them when spoken to by Cerruti drew his
finger across his throat significantly saying "that
would be to pay if I told all." Then I waited upon
them myself

''You have no right," I said, ''to withhold these
facts forever from the world. History belongs to
society. To our children belong our experiences;
and if we hide the knowledge we have gained we rob
them of a rightful inheritance. Nearly a quarter of
a century has now passed. You have not always to
live. Are you willing to bear the responsibility of so
gross a barbarism as the extinguishment of this
knowledge ? "

Some were convinced, others obstinate. In vain
Mr Dempster, now wholly with me, called upon these
latter, one after another, assured them that this his-
tory would be written, and asked if it were not better
it should be done fully, truthfully, than with only
half the evidence before the writer. No. They did

Lit. Ind. 42.

658 PRELIMINARY AND SUPPLEMENTAL VOLUMES.

not wish to talk about it, to think about it. It was
a horrid night-mare in their memory, and they would
rather their children should never know anything
about it.

For a time the matter thus stood, so far as the men
of 1856 were concerned. Meanwhile the grim in-
quisitors who had so closely sealed their own lips
could not wholly prevent their former associates from
talking upon the subject. Little by little I gathered
from one and another information which it had not
been hitherto deemed proj)er to reveal. By report-
ing to one what another had said, I managed to gain
from each more and more.

Thus, gradually but very slowly, I wedged my way
into their mysteries, and for over a year I made no
further progress than this. Then I began operations
with a stenographer, making appointments with those
who had taken an active part in one committee or
the other, for the purpose of taking down a nar-
rative of their early experiences. Many of these,
once started on the line of their lives, seemed unable
to stop until they had told all they knew, as well
about vigilance committees as other matters.

This so broke the crust that I at length succeeded in
persuading Mr Bluxome, the ^ ^7 secretary ' of the
first committee, and the yet more famous ' 33 secre-
tary ' of the second, to let me have the books and
papers of the committee of 1851. All these years
they had been locked in an old iron safe to which he
had carried the key. The executive committee of
that tribunal had never been so strict as that of the
second; there had been less opposition, less law, less
risk in the first movement than in the second , and
such of the first committee as were not dead or ab-
sent manifested more indifference as to the secrets of
their association.

Bluxome tells a story how orders of court were
wont to be eluded when vigilance papers were ordered
produced.

VIGILANCE ARCHIVES. 659

In one of the many cases for damages which foL
lowed the period of arbitrary strangulations and
expatriations, the judge ordered the records of the
stranglers brought into court. Bluxome obeyed the
summons in person, but nothing was seen of books or
papers in his possession.

^' Where are the documents you were ordered to
bring ? " demanded the judge.

*'I do not know," replied Bluxome.

"Are they not in your possession?"

"No."

"You had them?"

"Yes."

"What did you do with them?"

" I delivered them to Schenck."

" Where are they now ? "

"I do not know."

Dismissed, Bluxome lost no time in hurrying to
Schenck, and informing him of what had happened.
Scarcely had Schenck passed the document to a third
person, before he was summoned to appear in court,
and bring with him the required papers. After tes-
tifying as Bluxome had done, the person to whom he
had delivered them was summoned with like result ;
and so on until all concerned were heartily tired of it
and so let the matter drop.

It was a great triumph, all the archives of the first
committee safely lodged in the library, and it proved
a great advantage to me in opening the way to the
books and papers of the second committee. These
were in the keeping of Mr Dempster, to be held in
trust by him ; and while he would gladly have placed
them all in my liands at the first, he felt that he
could not do so without the permission of his associates.

I found it less difficult after this to obtain dictations.
Members of the committee of 1856 were not particu-
larly pleased that I should have so much better facili-
ties placed before me for writing the history of the
first committee than the second.

660 PRELIMINARY AND SUPPLEMENTAL VOLUMES.

Many of them now came forward of their own ac-
cord and told me all they knew. The 15th of Feb-
ruary, 1876, Mr. Coleman, president of the committee
of 1856, wrote me, I being then at Oakville, that he
was ready to give me data. A long and exceedingly
valuable narrative of all the events from the begin-
ning to the end was the result. It was in fact, a his-
tory of the movement- and from the one most able to
furnish it. This was supplemented by a no less val-
uable and even more thoughtful and philosophical a
document by Mr. Dempster. Likewise from Truett,
Smiley, Bluxome, and twenty others, I obtained in-
teresting narratives.

When I had written the narrative of the first com-
mittee and had fairly begun the history of the move-
ment of 1856, the absurdity of the position assumed
by certain members struck me with more force than
ever, and I was determined, if possible, to have the
records and papers of the second committee. I went
first to Coleman.

" I want all the archives of your committee," I
said. ''It is the irony of folly to compel a man, at
this day, to make brick without straw when you have
abundance of material in your possession."

'' Had it rested with me you should have had
everything long ago," said Mr, Coleman.

Then I went to Dempster.

" Did I stand where you do," I ventured to affirm,
*' I would not permit the history of the vigilance com-
mittee to be written while those books and papers
were unrevealed."

" What would you do? " he asked.

'^ I would pay no attention," I replied, " to the
wishes of those few wise men of Gotham who would
arbitrate this matter between eight thousand vigi-
lants and their posterity. They are not the vigilance
committee ; they are not a majority of the executive
committee."

'' 1 cannot give them up until I am authorized to

COLEMAN AND DEMPSTER. 661

do so/' said Dempster, '' but I'll tell you what I wil]
do. Come to my house where the papers are kept;
take your time about it, and select and lay aside such
as you would like. I will then take such documents
and show them first to one and then to another of
these men, and they shall designate such as they ob-
ject to your having."

And this he did ; and the result was that no one
threw out anything. But even this did not satisfy me.
I wanted the records and all material extant on the
subject. I wanted these spread out before me while
I was writing; and I finally obtained all that I asked.

Thus I found at my command three distinct sources
of information, namely, printed books and newspapers,
unpublished material and the personal narratives of the
more conspicuous of those who participated in the
events.

The time of my writing this episode was most op-
portune- Had I undertaken it sooner, — had I under-
taken it without the reputation the authorship of the
Native Races gave me, — I am sure I could have obtained
neither the vigilance archives, nor the dictations.
At all events, no one had been able to secure these
advantages, and many had so endeavored. On the
other hand, had the matter been delayed much longer,
those who gave in their testimony would have passed
beyond the reach of earthly historians. And the
same might be said regarding all my work. Probably
never did opportunity present so many attractions for
writing the history of a country. Time enough had
elapsed for history to have a beginning, and yet not
all were dead who had taken part in prominent events.

In studying the vigilance question, I began with
unbiased views. I had never given the subject seri-
ous thouo;ht, nor had I heard the aro^uments on either
side. I had not proceeded far in my investigations
before I became convinced that the people were not
only right, but that their action was the only thing
they could have done under the circumstances. I ar-

662 PRELIMINARY AND SUPPLEMENTAL VOLUMES.

rived at this conclusion in summing up the arguments
of the opposite side. The more I examined the
grounds taken by the law and order party, the more
I became convinced that they were untenable, and so I
became a convert to the principles of vigilance through
the medium of its enemies, and before I had heard a
word in their own vindication. Further than this,
my veneration for law, legal forms, and constitutions
gradually diminished as the sophisms of their wor-
shippers became more palpable. I see nothing more
sacred in the statutes men have made than in the men
who made them. I claim that the majority of any
people possess the right to revolutionize; otherwise
ours would still be the dark ages. At all events,
however worshipful written laws and constitutions
may be, people will overturn them or set them aside
when necessity demands it, whether they have the
riocht or not. What is right ? Were the framers of
antique laws so immaculate that they should be able
to provide for every future emergency ? But the
vigilance movement was no revolution ; neither did
any member of the committee wish to subvert or
overthrow the laws. They merely aimed to assist
impotent courts in the administration of the law.
As I proceeded in my investigations, I saw on the
one side crime rampant, the law prostituted, the bal-
lot-box under the control of villains of .various dye,
the tools of men of intellect and education high in
office. I saw between the two extremes, between the
lower and upper strata of this fraternity of crime, be-
tween the whilom convict, now election inspector,
poll-fighter, supervisor, and petty political thief, be-
tween these and the governor and supreme judges, a
multitude anxious to maintain the existing state of
things. These were lawyers, whose living was af-
fected by such disturbance ; judges, whose dignity
was outraged ; sheriff's, whose ability was called in
question, and with them all the skum of society,
hangers on about courts, policemen, pettifoggers,

THE TWO SIDES. 663

and thieves, — all who played in the filthy puddle of
politics.

When I saw this element banded in support of law,
or rather to smother law, and opposed to them the
great mass of a free and intelligent people, represent-
ing the wealth and industry of the state, merchants,
mechanics, laboring men, bankers, miners, and farm-
ers, men who troubled themselves little about political
technicalities and forms of law, except when caught
in it meshes — when I saw these men drop their farms
and merchandise and rise as one man to vindicate
their dearest rights, the purity of the polls, safety to
life and property — when I saw them rise in their
single-heartedness and integrity of purpose, carefully
counting the cost before taking the stand, but, once
taken, ready to lay down their lives in support of it,
and then with consummate wisdom and calm moder-
ation, tempering justice with mercy, pursue their high
purpose to the end — when I saw them villified, snarled/
at, and threatened with extermination by pompous
demagogues who had placed themselves in power, — I
was moved to strong expression, and found myself
obliged repeatedly to go over my writing and weed
out phrases of feeling which might otherwise mar
the record of that singular social outburst which I
aimed to give in all honesty and evenly balanced
truthfulness.

As to the separate section of the history, the
Chronicles of the Builders of the Commomvealth, I may
truthfully say that it was evolved from the necessi-
ties of the case. The narrative of events could not
be properly written with the biographies of those who
had made the country what it is included, and it
was not complete without them; hence the separate
work.

Among other lessons learned while writing this
work was never to come too near the object about
which you wish to write well.

CHAPTER XXVII.

BODY AND MINI).

Hard students are commonly troubled with gowts, catarrhs, rheums,
cachexia, bradypepsia, bad eyes, stone, and collick, crudities, oppilations,
vertigo, winds, consumptions, and all such diseases as come by overmiich
sitting; they are most part lean, dry, ill-colored.. ..and all through im-
moderate pains and extraordinary studies. If you will not believe the truth
of this, look upon the great Tostatus and Thomas Aquinas' works; and tell
me whether those men took pains.

Burtons Anatojiy of Melancholy.

Among general physiological and psycliological prin-
ciples the se truths are now regarded elementary — that
the brain is indispensable to thought, volition, and
feeling ; that the brain is the seat of thought, of in-
tellect; that the brain being affected by the blood,
the mind is influenced by the quality or condition of
the blood ; that with the quickening of cerebral circu-
lation thoughts, feelings, and volitions are quickened,
even up to the pitch sometimes of vehement mental
excitement, or delirium, and that the quality of the
blood depends upon food, air, exercise, and rest.

Under great mental strain blood of the best qual-
ity, pure, rich, and plentiful may be drawn from the
muscles, to the detriment of the muscular system,
to meet the pressing emergencies of the brain and of
the nervous system ; and vice versa excessive physical
exertion draws from the mental faculties nourishment
rightly belonging to them. Therefore both mind and
muscle are alike dependent not less upon food than
upon the blood-purifying organs, lungs, liver , intes-
tines, and the rest.

The influence of the mind upon the body, through
its three-fold states of intellect, emotion, and volition,
is no less great than the influence of the body upon

(664)

BRAIN AND NERVES. 665

the mind. These reciprocal influences are exactly
balanced. A pound of one presses as heavily upon
the organism as a pound of the other. When the
equilibrium is destroyed, the system is soon out of
balance.

For good and for evil the influence of each upon
the other is great. To the imagination we may refer
much of the otherwise unexplainable morbid phe-
nomena springing from mesmerism, spiritualism, and
the like. The imagination of St Francis d'Assisi so
revelled in Christ's suflerings as to bring upon his
body the pains under which Christ labored. While
the automatic action of the brain upon the body is
the occasion of many disorders, the will exercises no
small power over the body, and even on the mind
itself.

Lucretius plainly perceived that with the body the
mind strengthens and decays, when he said "Cum
corpore mentem, crescere sentimus pariterque senes-
cere." Likewise Ovid expresses the same opinion:
'^Vitiant artus aegrae contagia mentis;" so that in
all this there is nothing new.

Mind is not that incorporeal essence which theology
once declared it, but a tangible entity which may be
reached through the nervous system. The derange-
ments of mind are no longer regarded as exceptional
visitations of the deity, but as the result of nervous
disease. That which directs my fingers in writing is
no less a subordinate and governable part of me than
the fingers which guide my pen. Between the wide
extremes of automatic acts reflected from the brain
and, a priori, intuitions, there is a vast field in which
the impulse of will exercises full sway.

Of all organs the brain alone sleeps. Other organs
may become paralyzed, and their functions cease while
yet the body lives, but the first sleep of the body is
its last sleep.

Were it not that men conduct themselves as if they

666 BODY AND MIND.

knew it not it would seem superfluous at this late
day to talk about exercise as a requisite to health.
We all know that brain-work dissipates the nervous
forces with greater rapidity than the most arduous
physical labor; that the nervous substance of the
body is exhausted by thought just as physical exer-
tion exhausts the muscles. And yet how few regard
the fact. How few enthusiastic workers succeed in
schooling their habits in that happy equilibrium
which secures health, and enables them to make the
most of both mind and body. Often it is the most
difficult part of the daily task, at the appointed hour
to drop the work in which the mind is so deeply en-
grossed, and to drive one's self forth to those mechan-
ical movements of the body which are to secure
strength for another day.

Some strength and stores of health had been laid in
for me, thanks to my father who gave me first an iron
constitution, and supplemented it with that greatest
of earthly blessings, work, in the form of plowing,
planting, harvesting, and like farm occupation. And
I doubt if in all the range of educational processes,
mental and physical, there is any which equals the
farm. In farm labor and management there are con-
stantly at hand new emergencies to cultivate readi-
ness of resource, and the adaptation of means to ends.
Five years of steady work on a farm is worth more to
most boys than a college education. Later in life it
was only by excessive physical exercise that I could
bear the excessive strain on my nervous system. By
hard riding, wood-sawing, long walks and running, I
souQfht to draw fatiofue from the over-taxed brain, and
fix it upon the muscles. Often the remedy was worse
than the disease ; as, for example, when recreating,
after long and intense application, I invariably felt
worse than while steadily writing. Rest and recrea-
tion are pleasurable no less ideally than by contrast ;
no work is so tedious as play when we are driven to
it by necessity.

EXERCISE. QQ^

Although culture is so much less necessary to hap-
piness than health, yet so fascinating is the acquisi-
tion of knowledge, that we are ready to sacrifice all
for it. But never is one so beguiled as when one at-
tempts to beguile health. For a day, or a year, or
five years, one may go on without respite, but always
having to pay the penalty with interest in the end.

In all aids to physical well-being, the trouble is to
become sufficiently interested in any of them to escape
weariness. Irksome exercise produces little benefit.
The instincts of activity must not be opposed by
mental aversion. Wearisome amusements are flat
pastimes.

On seating myself to years of literary labor, I
sought in vain some intellectual charm in muscle-
making. Though I loved nature, delighting in the
exhilaration of oxygen and sunlight, and in the stimu-
lus of contrary winds , and although I well knew that
liberal indulgence was the wisest economy, yet so
eager was I to see progress in the long line of work I
had marked out, that only the most rigid resolution
enabled me to do my duty in this regard. I felt that
I had begun my historical eflbrts late in life, and
there was much that I was anxious to do before I
should return to dust. In my hours of recreation I
worked as diligently as ever. I sought such exercise
as hardened my flesh in the shortest time. If I could
have hired some person to take exercise and indulge
in recreation for me, every day and all day, I would
have been the healthiest man in California. Yet
though I sought thus to intensify my exercise so as
to equal my desires, I could not concentrate the bene-
fits of sunshine, nor condense the air I breathed. La
Rochefoucauld calls it a wearisome disease to preserve
health by too strict a regimen. ^' C'est une en-
nuyeuse maladie de conserver sa sante par un trop
grand regime."

Nor is the benefit to the mind of bodily exercise
any greater than the benefit to the body of mental

668 BODY AND MIND.

exercise. Bodily disease is no less certainly engen-
dered when the mind is left unengaged and the body
placed at hard labor, than when the mind is put to
excessive labor and the body left in a state of inac-
tivity. A sound mind in a sound body is only se-
cured by giving both body and mind their due share
of labor and of rest. We are told that we cannot
serve two masters ; yet the intellectual worker while
in the flesh seems to be under such obligation. If
man were all animal or all intellect, he could live
completely the animal or the intellectual life, living
one and ignoring the other ; but being man and under
the dominion both of the animal and of the mental,
there is no other way than to divide his allegiance in
such a way as to satisfy, so far as possible, both.
Further than this, between the different mental facul-
ties and between the different physical faculties, in
like manner as between mental and physical faculties,
there are antagonisms. One organ or faculty is cul-
tivated, in some measure, at the expense of some
other organ or faculty. The human machine is capable
of manufacturing a given quantity only of nervous
force, or brain power, and in whatsoever direction this
is applied, there will be the growth. Exact equality
in the distribution of this force would be to the ad-
vantage of the man as a whole, but not to society
which is progressional, as leading members crowd
certain faculties at the expense of the others. " Ex-
treme activity of the reflective powers," says Herbert
Spencer, " tends to deaden the feelings, while an ex-
treme activity of the feelings tends to deaden the re-
flective powers."

Excessive brain-work is undoubtedly injurious to
bodily health ; but all the evil effects so charged are
not due to this cause. Previous disease, confinement,
or other indirect agency often lies back of the evils
laid at the door of mental labor. Indeed, it has been
questioned by physiologists, whether a perfectly
healthy organization could be broken down by brain-

WORK AND WORRY. 669

work ; but as there Is no such thing In nature as a
perfectly healthy organism, the matter can never be
tested. As brain-work rests on a physical base, and
as there is constant breaking down in intellectual
labor, just how much should be attributed to the
direct influence of mind, and how much to extrinsic
influences one cannot say. The body may be already
in a shattered state ; mind may direct the body into
bad ways, and so bring it to grief ; but that the mind,
by fair and honest pressure on a perfect organism, can
crush it, is denied. But I am satified that it is the
confinement attending brain-work, rather than brain-
work itself that does the damao^e.

Worry is infinitely more consuming than work.
Doctor Carpenter charges worry and consequent
mental strain as the cause of the premature death of
bushiess and professional men of the present day. Care
is the sword which Damocles sees suspended over him
by a hair, which dispels all happiness, Scott, Southey,
and Swift worried themselses to death ; so did Thack-
eray, Greeley, and ten thousand others. The chafings
of the mind are far worse than those of the body. He
who would live long and perform much mental work
must fling care to the winds. Some can do this ;
others cannot. A sensitive mind is subject to greater
wear than a mind of coarser texture. The finer the
intellectual fibre the more care strains it. ''The hap-
piness of the great majority of men," says Lecky^
''is far more aflfected by health and by temperament,
resulting from physical conditions, which again physi-
cal enjoyments are often calculated to produce, than
by any mental or moral causes, and acute physical
sufferings paralyze all the energies of our nature to a
greater extent than any mental distress."

The tension such as attends wild speculation is
much more wearing than the severest study. "It is
not pure brain work, but brain excitement, or brain
distress, that eventuates in brain degeneration and
disease," savs Doctor Crichton Browne. "Calm,

670 BODY AND MIND.

vigorous, severe mental labor may be far pursued
without risk or detriment ; but, whenever an element
of feverish anxiety, wearing responsibility, or vexing
chagrin is introduced then come danger and damage."
Excessive fatigue results in a weakening of the facul-
ties and loss of memory.

Francis Galton claims that bone and muscle as well
as genius are praiseworthy and hereditary. Hence
in his catalogue of great men along with judges,
statesmen, commanders, scientists, literati, poets, mu-
sicians, and divines, we have oarsmen and wrestlers.

Obviously the powerful physique needs more exer-
cise to keep it in health than the puny one. The
weak, delicate woman is satisfied with little moving
about, while the strong man's muscles ache if they
are long kept idle. Often we see a powerful brain in
a weak body ; but that is usually when the mind has
been cultivated at the expense of the body. A strong
muscular physique absorbs the nervous force which
might otherwise be employed for brain work. It
draws in several ways : first, in bodily exertion ; then
if the exercise has been vigorous the mind is corres-
pondingly fatigued, or at least unfit to resume its
labors until the forces of the body resume, to some
extent, their equilibrium. Again, the intellectual
energies, a great portion of the time, are drowned in
sleep, the system being meanwhile occupied in the
great work of digestion, which obviously draws upon
the nervous forces.

As thought is influenced by the material changes
of the brain, so the brain is influenced by the material
changes of the body. Food and the cooking of it
claim no unimportant part in the chemistry of mind.
The psychological effect of diet is not less marked
than the physiological effect. Cookery colors our
grandest efforts. The trite saying of the French
'' C'est la soupe qui fait le soldat," applies as well to lit-
erature as to war. It is a significant fact that with the
reVival of learning in Italy was the revival of cookery.

EXTERNAL AGENCIES. 671

For the influence of externals, of extrinsic ao-en-
cies, of bodily conditions, and changes on states of
mind, we have only to notice how our moods are
affected by hunger, cold, heat, fatigue, by disease,
stimulants, and lack of sleep. Yery sensibly Doctor
Fothergill remarks: '^When the brain is well sup-
plied by a powerful circulation, and a rich blood sup-
ply from a good digestion furnishes it with an abund-
ance of pabulum, the cares of life are borne with
cheerfulness and sustained with equanimity. But
when the physical condition becomes affected, a total
and complete change may be and commonly is in-
duced." And again, ^^a disturbance of the balance
betwixt the wastes of the tissues and the power to
eliminate such waste products is followed by distinct
mental attitudes, in which things appear widely re-
mote from their ordinary aspect. This condition is
much more common than is ordinarily credited by
the general public, or even by the bulk of the pro-
fession. The physical disturbances so produced are
distinct irritability and unreasonableness, which is
aggravated by a consciousness that there is an ele-
ment of unreason present — a tendency to be perturbed
by slight exciting causes, the mental disturbance be-
ing out of all proportion to the excitant."

Yet we must not forget that between the body and
mind there are essential differences, so far as the
acquisition of strength from exercise is concerned.
Undoubtedly the mind, like the body, enlarges and
strengthens with exercise, but not in the same pro-
portion. Every arm, like the blacksmith's, by proper
and persistent effort may be made to swell and harden,
though not all in the same degree; and to a greater
or less extent, beginning with the child, and avoiding
over-strains, any mind may be trained into something
approaching that of an intellectual athlete. Toward
the accomplishment of such a purpose, necessity and
ambition, in that happy mixture found usually in the
intermediate state between riches and poverty, are

672 BODY AND MIND.

most conducive to intellectual gymnastics. The very
rich and the very poor are alike removed, — the one by
lack of opportunity and the other by lack of inclina-
tion,— from long and severe mental effort.

A single glance along the line of names conspicuous
in the empire of letters is sufficient to excite wonder
in us how the strong and swelling intuitions of genius
are warped by the weather of environment. Inspira-
tion itself seems but a part of that divine machine of
which body and mind are the more tangible enginery.

Does not nature make a mistake in placing a strong
and subtle intellect in such a little crazy withered
body as De Quincey's? So weak and insignificant
was it that its owner despised it, often neglecting its
vulgar cravings beyond the limits of endurance, and
then feeding it opium to keep it quiet. Indeed opiates
and stimulants play no small part in the economy of
inspiration. While the intellect of the great opium
eater was inspired by the insidious drug, Poe's genius
was enlarged by rum, and Dry den's by a dose of
salts. So ill-suited to each other were De Quincey's
mind and body that while the one was absorbed in
some social problem, the other w^as left to starve or
given ten borrowed shillings to satisfy its hunger, the
owner offering to put up a fifty pound note as security.
For twenty years he was a slave to a vice. Then he
made a fight against it and conquered it. This was
his greatest achievement.

Back among the Athenians we find in the comedy-
writer, Cranitus, another noble example of victory on
the better side. As his years increased his fondness
for wine grew upon him so as to impair his intellect.
For several years his pen produced nothing, and it
was thought his writing days were over. But when
very old he appeared before the public with a comedy
which was a satire upon himself, called The Bottle, in
which he acknowledges his desertion of the muse for
a new mistress, and promised reformation. So

WEAKNESSES OF GREAT LIEN. 673

pleased were the Athenian critics at this singular
production of their old favorite, that they awarded
him the prize, though Aristophanes had brought for-
ward in competition The Clouds which he regarded as
one of his best plays, Theogins found inspiration in
potations which left him, as he himself says, not ab-
solutely drunk, nor yet quite sober. The details of
Poe's forty years of life are not attractive. Be-
friended as an orphan, he was court-martialed at
West Point, and returning to his benefactor, he was
kicked out of his house for improper conduct toward
the young hostess. After a series of swindling trans-
actions, and brief low living, he was picked from the
gutter drunk, and in a few hours was dead.

Once or twice or thrice to risk all to win immortal
honors is not so strange ; but to risk all habitually,
with the one fatal failure certain sooner or later to
come, is more befitting insanity than genius.

A sad fate was that of William Collins, a foolish
fate, who, because his books did not sell, became dis-
heartened, then took to drink and finally died insane.
How many, among the multitudes of unsuccessful
and broken-hearted, whose epitaph might be written
in the same words.

Pope drank coffee ; Byron, gin ; Newton smoked ;
Napoleon took snuff; Lord Erskine, opium; and
Wedderburne, when he wished to rouse emotion in
some great speech, put a blister on his breast. Cole-
ridge, the poet preacher, made himself drunk with
opium, and for the last eighteen years of his life Avas
under the care of a surgeon, in whose house he livedo
Fitzhugh Ludlow ate opium and wrote the Hasheesh
Eater. Mangan drank liquor and ate opium.

Pope was delicate, irritable, unhappy. At the age
of sixteen a literary temperament manifested itself in
him as fully as at any later period. Far past mid-
night Charles Lamb pored over his beloved books,
the ebbing of the brandy in the decanter which was
ever before him, marking the departing hours, Im-

LlT. Ind. 43.

674 BODY AND MIND.

patience under confinement, a moral inability to curb
conduct with common-place conventionalisms appears
to be the usual attendant on genius. As Patmore
says of Lamb, ''he would joke or mystify, or pun, or
play the buffoon ; but he could not bring himself to
prose, or preach, or play the philosopher." Hence it
was he '' often passed for something between an imbe-
cile, a brute, and a buffoon." In trivial things great
minds may find diversion, though fools take pleasure
in nothing else. Some can accomplish more drunk
than can others sober.

Human nature has two sides, a sensual and an in-
tellectual one. To the former, even in rude com-
munities, some slight degree of shame intuitively at-
taches, while a corresponding pride appears upon the
side of the latter.

Most men come honestly enough by their pro-
pensity for drink. With some it is an inheritance,
with others the result of circumstances, of association,
of unconquerable ills. The drinking man is by no
means necessarily a sensualist. The man of large ap-
petite or lust may be his superior in that direction.
There may be a sensualism of dress more disgusting
than the sensualism of drink.

Literary men are somewhat prone to excesses, and
the greater their talents, oftentimes the greater their
intemperance. If prone to eat, they are gluttons; if ^
to drink, they are drunkards ; if given to domestic j
quarrelling, they are anything but saints in their]
households. Deep depression, often bordering des-,
peration, follows great or prolonged effort. In the
reaction which follows, happy he who can lapse into]
comfort without the aid of drink.

The Asiatic we condemn for bringing to the poor]
and sorrow b.den the divine drug. Very justly we[
condemn them, though England first thrust it upon
them, for this portable happiness is woe unutterable.,
And yet it is a more refined madness than that which
comes from intoxicating: drink. One eno^enders intel-'

WINE AND OPIUM. 675

lectual bliss, while the other, after lifting the brutish
part of man into the heaven of sensuous gratification,
pluno-es it into an abyss of besotted stupidity.

Whose is the greater wisdom, I ask ; or rather, the
greater folly, — the greater madness ? Which brings to
man the most joy ? which cures and kills the most ?
Wine colors, warps, disorganizes, and degrades mind,
exalting passion and fleshly lusts ; opium stimulates the
diviner part, elevates and enlarges intellect, and gives
brilliancy and harmony to ideas. Before we quarrel
with our Asiatic brother for stimulating the better
part of himself, let us abandon this pluralizing of our
baser part.

The intellectual torpor produced by opium never,
like that produced by wine, reaches absolute moral
insensibility. Throughout all the splendid imagery
brought to the brain by the divine drug, the imperial
pomp of nature as displayed in dark tremulous forests,
in broad plains, lighted by a spectral sun, in the
eternity of sparkling ocean, the gorgeous sky pictures,
and the symphonies of heavenly harpings borne to the
dreamer's ear upon the wind, conscience is ever pres-
ent with its duties and apprehensions mingled with an
oppressive sense of growing incapacity. All the
faculties of mind and body are prostrate in the Circean
spell, and yet the nightmare of moral responsibility is
ever present, and though lifted into celestial realms,
from himself the dreamer cannot escape.

The most muscular men are not always capable of
the greatest endurance ; neither are the strongest men
always the healthiest. He whose arm measures ten
inches and lifts with ease six hundred pounds, is not
necessarily twice as healthy as the man whose arm,
five inches round, raises, with difficulty, three hun-
dred pounds. The fat, sound man, of ruddy complex-
ion, being in a state of perfect health, is seldom capa-
ble of accomplishing as much labor, or of enduring as
great fatigue, as the thin cadaverous person of de-
ranged digestion, or imperfect breathing apparatus.

676 BODY AND MIND.

The pigmy Pope, whose spectral form every morn-
ing must be wrapped in flannels to hold it together
during the day, and the diminutive and unsubstantial
opium-eater, with his alabaster flesh, and whose frail
tabernacle was taught to withstand the eflfects of
three hundred and twenty grains of the drug daily,
were by their intellects made giants capable of out-
lasting formidable physiques.

It was once the fashion for that tremblingly sensi-
tive mixture of love, hate, ecstatic joy, misanthropy
and misery called by the gods to poesy, to die young.
Like the coral, whose life is the swallowing of car-
bonate of lime, while the upper part is growing, the
lower part is dying. Beginning with Chatterton who
died at eighteen, the list continues with Keats' death
at twenty-five, Marlowe's at twenty-eight, Shelley's at
twenty -nine, Byron's at twenty-six, and so on. But
both before and since the appearance of this divine
epidemic, there were men who did not deem inspira-
tion incompatible with either common sense or length
of years. Homer lived until long past eighty ; over
his wine cup leered Anacreon at eighty-five ; King
David was not young when he sorrowfully sang his
sins away ; Chaucer died at seventy -two. Then there
was a list of earlier departures, such as Shakespeare
at fifty-three, Ben Jonson at sixty-four, Massenger
and Milton at sixty-six, Dryden and Southy at sixty-
eight, though indeed Wordsworth reached eighty.
The crop of latter day poets, however, bids fair to
outlast them all. Beginning with Bryant, past eighty,
there were Whittier, Longfellow, Tennyson, Holmes,
Lowell, and others who saw no reason why poets
should not live as long as other men.

It should not be forgotten that while engaged in a
difficult and confining work, a writer is scarcely him-
self or anything else. Body and mind both are in an
abnormal state. Thus it is that we find the lives of
authors in direct contrast to their teachings. Yet this

NATURAL AND ACQUIRED ABILITIES. 677

inspiration, this abnormity, or what you will, must
be his who would aspire to an intellectual seat very
far above his fellows. Few are educated into great-
ness ; and though genius of any quality short of in-
spiration must have cultivation before it has com-
pleteness, acquisition alone never yet made a man
famous. Nor do great men make primary use of edu-
cation in building their ladder to fame.

Glance over the names of those most eminent in
England during the last three centuries, and we find
remarkably few of them who went through a regular
course of instruction at a public school. The Edin-
burgh Review gives the names of twenty poets, a dozen
philosophers, and a score or so of the first writers in
morals and metaphysics who were not educated at
what that journal calls a public school.

Now mental cultivation is a good thing, a grand
thing, but it is not everything. It is what our mother
nature does for us, as well as what we do for our-
selves that makes us what we are. All great men
are men of natural abilities. If they are cultivated
so much the better. It is only cultivated genius that
reaches the highest realms of art ; but if the genius
bo not there, no amount of cultivation will produce it.
You may dig and dung your garden through twelve
successive springs, if there are no seeds in the ground
there will be no flowers. You may rub, and blanket,
and train your horse until doomsday, if there be no
speed in him he wins no race. Cultivation, in the
absence of natural abilities, is like undertaking to
kindle the edg-e of ocean into a flame ; there is no
blaze from it.

Genius itself cannot tell what it does not know.
One must learn before one can instruct ; nor is it wise
to attempt to define a thing without knowing what it
is. Better that the orations of Demosthenes should
smell of the lamp,, as Pytheas,^ from the manifest
labor bestowed upon them complained, than that they
should fall unheeded to the ground. Historical and

GTS BODY AND MIND.

scientific facts do not spring from inspiration. Yet
there is such a thing as stifling genius by an over-
weight of learning. The Paradise Lost begun by
Milton in his fifty-eighth year is an example. The
subject is wholly ideal, and if undertaken in the au-
thor's younger days, before his mind was buried be-
neath a mountain of classical machinery which marred
his supernatural conceptions, would have been as
matchless as any of Shakespeare's productions.

Nevertheless, let all men beware of genius. We
cannot judge fairly of genius by its work. As well
determine the slimy bottom of a pool by the silver
sky reflected from its surface. A genius is a cross
between an angel and an ape. Genius is a disease
which blossoms like the measles or small-pox. It is
an intellectual excrescence, wart, or bunion. A hair
divides its destiny ; the road on one side leading to
the insane asvlum, that on the other to immortal in-
tellectuality. One thing is certain; genius may
ripen and burst without aid, but the result depends
upon labor. Never yet a genius made a lasting im-
pression upon the world without work. All great
men are workers. Who ever heard of a painter,
sculptor, musician, or author, who was not burden-
bearer and laborer, beside which occupations hod-
carrying and sand-shovelling are pastimes ?

Hence men should be careful how they aflect the
eccentricities of genius, lest, failing, they should show
what they are — fools. Striking out of the beaten
path in dress, belief, or behavior, one may reach a
picturesque eminence or fall into a quagmire. As a
rule we may be pretty sure that those who find them-
selves forced by internal enginery to cast ofl* tradi-
tional circumlocution, and strike at once at the root
of things, are not the men to study long over the latest
tie of the cravat, or shape of the boot-toe. And so
eccentricity of dress and behavior alwa3^s attend men
of genius. But that which in the brainless dandy
is affectation, in the man of genius is individuality,

GENIUS. 679

as much a part of the man as folly is of the fool.
A genius is one who is singular in great things ; and
this is scarcely possible without being singular in
little things.

Pure genius displays its presence the moment
opportunity offers, whether at the age of six or
sixty years. Nothing however denotes more plainly
genius malgre soi, than its manifestation in childhood
and youth. Sir Walter Scott's little favorite Mar-
jorie Fleming displayed a most peppery power with
tongue and pen at the age of six. Bryant wrote
Thanatojpsis at eighteen, and published a History of the
United States at eighty, thus disputing the adage cito
matUTum, cito putridum.

'' Southey," said Coleridge, ''possessed, but was not
possessed by his genius." So it was with Daniel
Webster. The man was more than the talents; the
inspired forces were held in subjection by a trained
indomitable will. All his vast brain resources were
under command of a disciplined mind, and quickly re-
sponded to its call. Here is an instance where a com-
manding frame comes into play ; put Webster's mind
into De Quincey's body, and the man never would be
heard from.

In Campbell and Goldsmith were mingled, in an
extraordinarv deg^ree, the sublime and the ridiculous.
To great fastidiousness, Campbell added intense self-
consciousness w^hich well-nigh destroyed his poetic
talents. Goldsmith, after having failed in divinity,
law, and medicine, after having repeatedly gambled
away his last farthing, and after having tramped the
continent as an itinerant flute-player, finally took to
literature, at which, for the remainder of his days, he
eked out a precarious existence, his poverty nauseated
now and then by a gorgeous suit of silk or satin.
Strano-e that the same man can be at once so wise and
so foolish!

Of what sort of stuff was made the brain of
Theodore Hook? As a diner-out, rather than as a

680 BODY AND MIND.

writer, his genius shone brightest. As musician and
improvisatore in extemporaneous melodramas, and in
which, not unfrequently, every stanza contained an
epigram, he never was equalled. With exquisite hu-
mor and inexhaustible prodigality he showered puns,
hon-mots, and anecdotes on every side. Vainly have
others tried to imitate him ; the counterfeit of genius
is easily detected.

By living simply and writing only when in the
mood, Whittier attained a ripe and peaceful old age.
M. Thiers was worried to death ; he did an immense
amount of work, but it was not labor but nervous
anxiety that killed him. He hated noisy men and
noisy nature.

Mortimer Collins worked until two o'clock at night
and rose at eight. The forenoon he took for recrea-
tion. Most men of genius attribute success in any
direction to severe application rather than to any
special talent. Says Doctor Johnson, ''Excellence in
any department can now be attained by the labor of
a lifetime, but it is not to be purchased at a lesser
price." "Nothing is impossible to a man who can
and will," says Mirabeau. ''This is the only law of
success." " The difference between one man and an-
other is not so much in talent as in energy," writes
Doctor Arnold ; and Keynolds remarks, "Nothing is
denied well-directed labor, and nothing is attained
without it." Turner when asked, "What is the secret
of your success ? " replied, " I have no secret but hard
work." Of the great army who plan, comparatively
few accomplish anything; in the brain even of the
hardest worker are conceived many more volumes than
are ever brought forth. Sir William Hamilton had a
dozen unwritten volumes in his mind when he died ;
in fact it would be more difficult to find one writer
who had not died with unfinished projects, than
one hundred who had. As Charles Lamb said of
Coleridge, that he died leaving "forty thousand
treatises on metaphysics and divinity, not one of

HABITS OF AUTHORS. 681

them complete." Unwritten books cut no figure in
literature.

Far above the creature is the creator. Who would
not rather be Shakespeare than the living embodi-
ment of any even of his grandest or most enviable
heroes or heroines ?

John Stuart Mill's habit was to write every book
over at least twice. At the first writing was infused
the fresh vigor of conception; the second, which
secured greater strength and precision, incorporated
the better part of the first writing with whatever
occurred to the mind subsequently.

Dickens wrote only four hours, namely, from ten
till two. His sentences were often very labored, be-
ing in this respect in marked contrast to the ease and
rapidity with which Sir Walter Scott wrote. The
banker-poet, Rogers, in whom talent and wealth were
found united to laborious application in a rare degree,
spent seventeen years writing the Pleasures of Memory.

James Hogg, the Ettrick shepherd, wrote while
sitting on the hills tending his sheep. His knees
were his desk, and his ink-bottle he carried suspended
from his buttonhole. With him writing was no small
physical feat. Taking off his coat and rolling up his
sleeves, he went at it as if about to knock down men
instead of ideas. Hazlitt wrote under immediate in-
spiration, without study of the subject or fore-thought.
As his pen was inspired he could write when and as
much as he chose. He wrote with incredible rapidity,
often equivalent to fifteen octavo printed pages at a
sitting of three or four hours ; and he seldom made
any alteration. Indeed, he could scarcely bring him-
self to read over what he had written, and he never
derived any pleasure from reading anything of his
own in print. Unlike Pygmalion, he never was guilty
of falling in love with an object of his own creating.

For prodigious work commend me the German.
Besides utilizing the brains of others he makes the
most of his own, holding rigidly to early rising, sim-

682 BODY AND MIND.

pie diet, and regular hours. Eating and drinking lie
postpones in a great measure until after his day's work
is done, and hence among its other burdens, the brain
does not have the horrors of indigestion laid upon it.
The afternoon he spends with his family and friends.
*' What a comment on our spasmodic authorship !" ex-
claims Hurst. '' Many an American when he gets
through his work is actually half dead from the ab-
sence of all social relaxation. He became shy of so-
ciety, and considered every hour among his friends as
so much lost time. The result was that he lost flesh,
spirits, and the indispensable pluck for new under-
takings.. The German, on' the other hand, knows
the high science of compressing as much work as pos-
sible into his mornings, and as much play as possible
into his afternoons and evenings."

For years it was my custom to rise at seven, break-
fast at half past seven, and write from eight until one,
when I lunched or din,ed. The afternoon was devoted
to recreation and exercise. Usually I would get in
an hour^s writing before a six o'clock tea or dinner, as
the case might be, and four hours afterwards, making
ten hours in all for the day ; but interruptions were
so constant and frequent, that including the many
long seasons during which I hermited myself in the
country, where I often devoted twelve and fourteen
hours a day to writing, I do not think I averaged more
than eight hours a day, taking twenty years together.

When I first began to write, composing was a very
labored operation. My whole mind was absorbed in
how, rather than what. But gradually I came to
think less of myself and the manner of expression, and
more of what I was saying. Comparatively little of
my work was of a character which admitted of fast
writing. When full of my subject I could write
rapidly, that is to say from twenty to thirty manu-
script pages in a day ; or counting by hours and meas-
uring by another's capabilities, about one quarter as

WAYS OF HANDLING MATERIAL. GS3

much as Hazlitt, though three tunes above the aver-
age. Including getting out and arranging my ma-
terial, and studying my subject, I could not average
during the year more than eight badly scratched
manuscript pages a day, or at the rate of one an hour.
In preparing for me the rough material from the
notes, my assistants would not average over four
manuscript pages a day.

" En ecrivant ma pensees, elles m'echappe quelque-
fois," says Pascal. Sometimes a flood of thought
would come rushing in upon me, like a torrent over-
whelming its banks, and I Avould lose the greater
part of it; at other times so confused and slothful
would be my brain, that in turning over the leaves of
my dictionary I would forget the word I was looking
for. This was more particularly the case during the
earlier part of my literary career ; later my mind be-
came more tractable, and I never waited for either
ideas or words.

There are many methods of gathering and arrang-
ing information and putting it into readable shape. The
novelist has one way, the specialist another, the his-
torian a third, necessarily different, each varying in-
dividually according to cast of mind and habit. As a
rule the best plan is to imbue the mind so thoroughly
with the subject to be treated as to be able first to
arrange the matter properly in the mind, and then
commit it to paper.

Another way, not perhaps the best way, is to write
readincT, and read writing;: that is, it is not the best
way, provided one has the memory and mental dis-
cipline to gather, arrange, and retain the necessary
facts and produce them as required. In certain kinds
of writing, I first draw from my own brain until its
resources are exhausted ; then taking up one author
after another, I learn what others have thought and
said upon the subject. In the intercourse of my mind
with other minds, new thoughts are engendered,
which are likewise committed to paper, after which

684 BODY AND MIND.

all is, or should be, re-arranged and re-written. Pliny
a.nd others have said that one should read much
but not many books. This was well enough as a doc-
trine before history and science had extended the
range of knowledge beyond the limits of a few books.
Now, to be well read, one must read many books ;
buying a cyclopedia will not answer the purpose.
Hamilton says, " An intellectual man who is forty
years old, is as much at school as an Etonian of four-
teen."

The first presentiment of a subject, the first flush
of an idea, is the one a writer should never fail to
seize. Like the flash and report of the signal gun to
the belated hunter, lost after night- fall in the dark
forest, the way for the moment seems clear, but if not
instantly and earnestly followed it is soon lost. Says
Goethe in Faust : " Wenn ihr'o nicht flihlt, ihr
werdet's nicht erjagen."

In diet and drink every one should be governed by
his own experience. To universal rules of health I
pay little attention. Nature has given me a physi-
cian in every organ of my body, which, if the appe-
tite be natural, prescribes only what is best, and cries
loudly against unwelcome guests. If I pay heed to
these friendly admonitions I am well ; if carried away
by excitement, pleasure, or morbid appetite, I commit
excesses, either by over-doing or under-doing I must
pay the penalty.

In the free and natural flow of ideas in writing,
the position must be neither too easy nor too con-
strained; as the former tends to inanity, while the
latter distracts the mind from the subject in hand and
fixes it upon muscular discontent. A person can
write better in one chair than another, in one room
than another, in one locality than another. In chang-
ing one's locality there is always some loss of time.
Thought is sometimes a little freaky. Change of
room, a rearrangement of books and papers often
breaks the current of thought, and severs the subtle

INTERRUPTIONS. 685

connection between mind and its surroundings. Seat-
ing myself at my table in the morning and "^seeing all
my papers as they were left, I take up the tlS-ead
where I dropped it the night before.

Interruptions are fatal to good work. Even though
one has the faculty of taking up the thread of thought
where it was laid down, there is still a great differ-
ence in the results of a whole day and of a broken
day.

While at the library my time was greatly broken by
callers. Frequently I have begun on Monday morn-
ing to write and by the time I was fairly seated and
my thoughts arranged, I would be compelled to break
off. After an interval of a half hour, perhaps, I
might be permitted to try it again, and with the same
results. So passed Monday, Tuesday, half the week,
or the whole of it, and not five pages written. Often
in a fit of desperation I have seized a handful of work
and rushed into the country, where I could count with
some degree of certainty upon my time. Truly, says
Florence Nightingale *'I have never known persons
who exposed themselves for years to constant inter-
ruptions who did not muddle away their intellects by
it at last."

In January, 187G, I left San Francisco in one of
these moods suddenly, and while under a sense of some-
thing akin to dispair. It seemed as though my work
would stretch out to all eternity. While in the city,
week after week passed by with nothing accomplished,
and I determined to cut loose from these interruptions
at whatever cost. So, bundling the papers before me,
chiefly memoranda for general chapters, I stepped
aboard the boat and that night slept at my father's.
The next day I sent down for a box of Popular Tri-
bunals and other material, and during the next six
weeks of a simple life, without interruptions, accom-
plished more in a literary way than during any other
six weeks of my life. I worked from ten to twelve
hours, and averaged twenty pages of manuscript a

686 BODY AND MIND.

day, rode two hours, except rainy days and Sundays ;
ate heartily, drank from half a bottle to a bottle of
claret or sherry before retiring, and smoked four or
five cigars daily. This, however, was more of a strain
than my system could bear for any length of time. I
did not break down under it; I only shifted my posi-
tion. The mind fatigued with one class of work often
finds almost as much rest in change as in repose ; just
as the laborer by change of occupation brings into
play a new set of muscles, giving rest to the others.

The glare from white paper seemed at times more
trying to my eyes than even constant daily and nightly
use of them when writing on a dark surface. It was
not until after several years of suffering that a simple
remedy occurred to me. My eyes had always been
good. I believed them capable of any endurance,
and consequently paid little attention to them until
they began to fail me. In smoked glass I found some re-
lief. But the best thing by far was the use of dark paper.

There were two possibilities which would force
themselves upon my mind at intervals : One was fire,
and the other death before the completion of my
work. So unmannerly are these ruthless destroyers
that I could hope for no consideration from either of
them on the ground of necessity. Imperious death
seemed indeed to regard my labors grudgingly; not
less than eleven of my library men died during the
progress of my work ; I could only solace myself by
working the harder. I often thought of Cuvier,
whose paralysis struck him while actively engaged in
the arrangfino: cf a large accumulation of scientific
material. Said he to M. Pasquier, ''I had great
things still to do ; all was ready in my head. After
thirty years of labor and research, there remained
but to write, and now the hands fail, and carry with
them the head." Oh ! thou great shame of nature ;
will no Hercules ever rise and strangle thee? ''On
n'a point pour la mort de dispense de Rome," sighs
Moliere.

mela:ncholy. 637

At certain periods of my life my breast has been
torn by conflicting pain and passion preying like a
vulture on the undecaying vitals of a Tityos. At
such times when I would write of grief I had only to
dip my pen in my own heart, and bitterness would
flow from it. Yet all this sprung from the coloring
which temperament threw on outward things. As
Wordsworth said of Turner's picture of Jessica on
exhibition in Somerset house, so I would say of cer-
tain creations of my fancy. '' It looks to me as if the
painter had indulged in raw liver until he was very
unwell."

"Bodily affliction," says Bain, ''is often the cause of
a total change in the moral nature." So might we
say of mental affliction, or of any kind of misfort-une
or woe. Under mental torment not less than when
in fleshy pains, the devil whispers us, like the com-
forters of Job, to curse God and die. Among the
most miserable of men that ever lived was William
Hazlitt; and that not because of bodily infirmities,
from which he was not for a moment free, but chiefly
because those strong affections which constantly burned
within him were left unfed by fitting objects, and so
consumed the cankered and corroded frame that bound
them. As Saint Beuve says: "One does not appre-
ciate the beautiful to such a degree of intensity and
delicacy, without being terribly shocked at the bad
and the ugly."

I do not set up for a man of sorrows. I am not
given to sourness and moroseness. I have often
through weariness fallen into discouragement; but
such blueness was only momentary. Whenever I
returned to my work after necessary rest it was
always with cheerful hope. Best removes mountains.
I would not have about me in my family, my library,
or my business a sighing, despondent, croaking in-
dividual. Until I began literary life I never thought
of such things as nervousness, mental strain, or
scarcely of general health. Most of all I despised

688 BODY AND MIND.

the thought of laying infelicities of temper at the
door of mental labor. I regarded it cowardly and
untrue. But after a time I was forced to change
these opinions.

Sometimes the fire of disease so kindles the brain
as to cause it to throw off sparkling thoughts, just as
I have heard vocalizers say that they could sing best
with a cold or sore throat, and speakers that they were
never so fluent as when under the influence of fever
— instance Douglass Jerrold whose wit was never
keener, or his thoughts more poetical than when his
body lay stretched in suffering. For fifteen years
Edward Mayhew was unable to use his limbs, and
yet with brains alone did he so successfully fight life's
battle as to leave an undying name.

Often one is heard to say that inspiration comes
not at the bidding, that Pegasus will not always re-
spond to the whip ; that one's best is bad enough, and
that the tired worker should stop; that literary labor
is diflerent from mechanical labor, and that the head
should be made to work only when it feels inclined.
There is truth in this doctrine, but there is likewise
error. At every turn in my literary labors I found
method essential; not alone to utilize the labor of
others, but to accomplish results satisfactory in my
own producing. Unable to work entirely by the
clock like Southey, who had not only his hours for
writing but his hour in each day for the several kinds
of literary occupation resulting in his hundred and
more volumes, it would not answer for me to trust
like Coleridge to inspiration, lest it should not come
when needed, nor to fly from one piece of work to
another, like Agassiz, as fancy dictated.

Yet while method is above all things necessary in
any great undertaking, there is such a thing in literary
eflbrt as excess of system, which tends to painful
monotony, particularly in the execution of a plan.

It is all very well to lay down rules, to write with
watch and mirror before one's face, like Dickens, ready

RULES AND REGULATIONS. 689

to stop whenever the hour is up, or the veins begin to
swell — that is to say for those who can keep such
rules. It is by no means difficult for me to tell my-
self the best things to do ; it is easy to teh the loco-
motive it had better stop instantly when a wheel
cracks.

There is no end to the rules and regulations I have
made to govern my writing. I believe in them. Yet
as it is impossible for man to make laws more power-
ful than himself, I do not hesitate to break my rules
whenever occasion seems to demand it. Often I
have said to myself, I will continue while I am in the
spirit, I will write while I can, and rest when I can-
not write. A writer with a strong constitution can
indulge in those insane excesses which would kill a
weaker man.

Self-knowledge is the sum of all knowledge. Man
is to man the central mystery, the unravelling of
which would give hhn the key to the universe. Were
it possible to photograph a human soul, to display in
visible portraiture the ethereal light and shade which
cheer and darken a human life, to see for one brief
moment the transfixed workings of that sul)tle chem-
istry which now impelled by passion, and now re-
strained by prejudice regulates the thoughts and
doings of the man, there would be no further need
of lessons from our great teacher, — nature.

It has seemed to me at times as if I was filled with
the poetic instinct but without poetic expression ; that
my poor inspiration was born dumb. Often after the
close of business, before I had ever thought of writing
books, have I walked out alone, up one street and
down another, for hours and far into the night, star-
gazing, thinking, communing, the dim and palpitating
light singing me a soul-song, and playing with the
dim and palpitating light which so feebly filled my
brain.

I have no such flooding fantasy now as then, Per-

LIT. IND. 44.

690 BODY AND MIND.

haps the brain wearies of its fruitless scintillations as
one grows older, and the ideal ether of youth is cleared
of many crude imaginings, or else the mind has found
some relief in words. These were intense longings
for I know not what; unintelligible somethings, it
appeared to me, floating on the confines of thought,
dimly discernible to a vivid imagination, but imper-
ceptible to sober meditation; murmurings they some-
times appeared as they came floating over the sea of
conscience from the far distant horizon; heavenly
heart-burnings, or the soul-rumblings of an eternal
unrest, the unconscious respiration of the immortal in
us — myriads of formless perceptions thus come strug-
gling to find expression, like the disembodied soul
spiiitualists tell us of, that hover near their friends
endeavoring to hold communion with them.

Then again it would seem as if all the powers of
my brain were held in solution, my thoughts all airy
nothings without sequence or continuity, unintelligi-
ble communion with unintelligible nature, and with-
out the alchemist at hand which should change to
useful metal or compact crystal this incoherent
mixture.

Day-dreaming, however, was never profitable to
me; nor, so far as I could judge, were these star-light
musings. The real has always been more satisfying
than the fanciful. Yet I must confess I sometimes
found these longings delicious, significant as they were
of the warm breathings of immortal affections.

Not unfrequently the most unaccountable freaks
of indisposition seize the steady literary worker.
Even the iron constitution of Mr Oak was not free
from them, and, indeed toward the end he almost
broke down. On one occasion while I was at White
Sulphur springs he wrote me — it was the 3d of April,
1877 — *'I feel as well in most respects as I ever did,
and my head is as clear as a bell, but I cannot sleep — ■
even in the morning ! I find it impossible to fix my
mind on any definite point of my work. For several

SOCIETY AND SOLITUDE. 691

days I have done but little more than sit at my table
and wonder why, feeling so well, I cannot work. I
have tried writing all night, but I cannot get sleepy;
have walked the skin oiF my feet, and have ridden
all day Sunday, but I cannot get fatigued. I presume
the affair will come to a focus, however, very soon."

Again the 24th of May he writes — ''Although my
general health is much improved, in fact as good as
usual, or even better, yet I still find myself unable to
work otherwise than mechanically. My active and
real interest in your work which for many years,
through sickness and health, laziness and its opposite,
despondency and good spirits has never weakened,
and which has I hope made my services of some value
to you, has now for the most part gone, and I find
that mere industry will not take its place, especially
in the work I have now in hand."

Rest was all that he needed, however, for after a
few weeks in the country he was himself again. In-
somnia has often been complained of by the men in
the library.

As regards society and solitude both are necessary,
but here as elsewhere extremes should be avoided.
Goethe says, "in solitude talents are best nurtured,
in the stormy billows of the world character is best
found." The tendency with me during my periods of
severest labor, as with every hard-worker, was more
and more towards aloneness. And the less I met and
conversed with men the more distasteful was it to
me. It is true I was peculiarly situated. With hun-
dreds of highly intellectual persons on every side of me,
there were few whose tastes or habits led them in the
direction of my labors. Those from whom I could
learn the most, who were most familiar with the
direct line of my investigations, I sometimes culti-
vated; but as a rule I found books more profitable
than social intercourse, so much so that the time spent
talking with men and women seemed to me lost. It

C92 BODY AND MIND.

is only when a man is alone that he is wholly hnn-
self. The presence of others throws him upon his
guard and teaches him for the sake of their good
opinion to don the most pleasing mask at his com-
mand. "It is a great error," says Hamerton, "to
encourage in young people the love of noble culture
in the hope that it may lead them more into what is
called good society. High culture always isolates,
always drives men out of their class, and makes it
more difficult for them to share naturally and easily
the common class-life around them. They seek the
few companions who can understand them, and when
these are not to be had within any traversable dis-
tance, they sit and work alone."

I could not separate myself entirely from solitude
or from society ; yet neither in themselves were wholly
satisfying. Of the two I preferred the former; but
when I was without a family I felt the need of some-
thing to which I might anchor the time that exhaus-
tion would not permit me to fill in with mental appli-
cation, and which was occupied with recreations that
gave a sinister bias to what should have been strength-
restoring pastime.

Say what you will of the benefits of social inter-
course, an intellectual man can spend but little time
in unintellectual society except to his disadvantage.
He who seeks true culture should seek the society of
his superiors, or, at all events, of those whose studies
in certain directions have made them more than ordi-
narily familiar with their respective specialties. To a
sensible person current society is a lame affair; an
intellectual man finds it specially insipid. It is a
sham of every depth and coloring. Like everything
simulated and artificial there is enough of sincerity to
hold it in form, and no more. Men and women,
prompted by vanity or ambition, meet and call it
pleasure, or improvement.

To most of them it is a bore, but they feel it a
kind of obligation in return for their title of respecta-

OPEN AIR LIFE. 693

bility. Every form of conversation approaching the
intellectual is tabooed, even should learned and intel-
ligent people thus chance to meet.

England, by law, makes sleeping in the open air
punishable as an act of vagrancy. California has no
such law. It has been rather the fashion here to sleep
a la belle etoile from the first. The aborigines never
wasted much time building houses; the padres and
their followers thought it no great hardship to sleep
under the trees; the miners made it a constant prac-
tice, and during the last decade the custom has grown
upon pleasure-seekers.

Every summer the dells and openings of the Coast
range are merry with the voices of those who, tired
of luxury and of the monotony of a quiet life, abandon
their comfortable homes for the fascinations of savag-
ism. Some have their regular camping-ground which
they occupy year after year, either owning the land
or having some arrangement with the owner; others
with teams, cooking utensils, and blankets, sometimes
with and sometimes without tents, travel in various
directions, up and down the Coast range or across
to Yosemite or other parts of the Sierra.

Camping is quite an art. Let not the inexperi-
enced treat lightly its mysteries. No great talent is
necessary for one, or two, or three men to start on an
excursion, hunt all day, and at night cook their supper
and roll themselves in their blankets for sleep; but a
well regulated first-class camp is quite a dificrent affair.

First a site must be selected with due regard to
water, game, and general surroundings. The further
removed it is from the highways of civilization, the
more communication and conveniences will have to be
given up. Then to provide for the necessities of a
party of men, women, and children for weeks or
months, to prepare sleeping accommodations, lay in
stock of provisions, and get all upon the ground in
proper shape is no small matter. The party once m

694 BODY AND MIND.

camp, the idiosyncrasies of each are brought out in
bold rehef ; the strong men appear stronger, the silly
girls sillier, the efficient matron more efficient, and if
the boy has any manliness it is sure to show itself now.
The good and bad qualities of both old and young-
force themselves in spite of their owners to the front.

Camping tries the strings of friendship. It does
not do as a rule for those who would retain a chival-
rous respect for one another long to remain in camp
together. It is easier for the civilized man to play
the savage than for the savage to play a civilized part.

Not all can throw off even the outer trappings of
conventionalism and still display a smooth symmetri-
cal figure. Not all can be themselves gracefully.
Not all can let in upon their true selves the unob-
structed light to their credit.

There is reality to camp life as well as romance ;
pain as well as pleasure. To leave the dusted fog of
the city for some warm sylvan retreat ; to lay aside
the chains of societ}^ and be free for a time ; to roam
the hills by day with death-dealing breech-loaders,
lord of the ground-squirrel and the hare; to lie at
night upon the ground watching the twinkling stars
peep through the buckeye branches, to sleep fanned
by the cool, dry, invigorating air, and in the morning
to be wakened by bands of feathered songsters, whose
music no human strains can equal; to plunge into the
stream and play fish, mingling with the respective
members of the fish family, now with crab and now
with trout, gulping and spouting and splashing with the
best of them, looking down upon the variegated pebbly
bottom, looking up the sides of the canon walls whose
summits reach the skies, becoming one with nature,
becoming nature herself, the chief difference between
us and our companion, bears and alligators, being that
we know how to cheat — all this is most exquisite; but
every human heaven has its Acheron-pit not far hence.

The Californian camper for his sins is placed be-
neath a broiling sun so hot as to melt bones and evap-

CAMPINa. 695

orate brain; streams come panting from the hills
bereft of every refreshing quality save wetness, and
the noiseless breeze is stifling as from an oven ; lizards
creep over the blistering stones, and the heated sands
in treading on them feel to the feet like the newly
emptied ashes of a furnace; glistening snakes trail
through the silvery incandescent grass, and bloodless
winged insects dance through the short day of their
existence. Every cool shade is preempted by mus-
quitos, and every inviting nook entertains with poison
oak. Before the tired hunter who, with blistered
feet and lacerated limbs climbs the craggy hills, the
game flees yet weary miles away, and the patient fish-
erman sits by the stream all day without a nibble.
Add to these evils rats and reptiles as bed- fellows, the
burnings of indigestion arising from the poorly cooked
meats, and the little bickerings and disagreements
inseparable from all but the most sensible or amiable
of associates, and the universal law of compensation
appears here as elsewhere in human affairs.

Often have I thrown myself weary upon a grassy
bank inviting to repose, only to find myself stung with
nettles and buzzing bugs about my ears, or ants and
reptiles crawling over me. Physical enjoyment is not
the highest or most refined species of pleasure; yet
of all physical pleasures none display tastes so savage
or which are in themselves so debasing as the hunt-
ing and killing of animals.

I never was much fascinated with the bloody,
though I have no doubt necessary, occupation of
butchering. The excitements of the chase have fas-
cinations for me, and where game is plenty I can lose
myself in slaying it, but I cannot but feel that next to
killing men killing beasts is the most brutalizing of
pastimes. But most lamentable of all is the wanton
slaughter of birds, beasts, and fishes, without regard
either to human necessities or any considerations of
parent and offspring.

But you say it is according to nature. That may

696 BODY AND MIND.

be true, but there are many things in nature debasing.
Civihzation is a constant war on nature. Only tamed
men and tamed beasts kill more than they need for
food — a propensity in man it were well not to culti-
vate. It is the taking of that mysterious life which
in man is the most highly prized of all things. It is
gratifying oneself at the expense of another. To kill
a sweet songster for a mouthful of meat is vandalism
on nature. Why should I carry my Cain-accursed
propensity for robbing and killing into the families of
nature's innocents when there are so many human
scorpions yet undestroyed? Rather let the humane
man in the country look at life and see God's crea-
tures enjoy it; or if he must slay something let him
hunt the legislative halls, the marts of commerce, and
other busy haunts of men for things fittest for slaughter.

Most of all others, he who lives enveloped in the
mists of sensitiveness needs a friend. Most of all
others, he whose retiring instincts unfold interests and
ambitions, draw him from his fellows, shut him within
himself, and wrap round him a non-conducting cover-
ing of crushed egoism, clouding that social sunshine
which of all things his soul covets, imprisoning mind
and heart affections within the dark, dank walls of a
detestable mauvaise honte, and dooming him while sur-
rounded by those whose hearts warm toward him and
toward whom his heart w^arms, to a life of unutter-
able aloneness, needs one near him who shall be to
him an alter ego before whom he may appear unre-
strained even by his own consciousness, and to whom
he may open and air the musty chambers of his in-
most being.

Such a friend need not be rich, or great, or intel-
lectual, or learned, he must be simply fitting. He
should be one not already bound to his lover by family
ties or business obligations; he should be a man
whom manliness might marry in all true inwardness
and without the bias of externals.

FRIENDSHIP. 697

Such a friend I had and lost, but not by death. I
never knew how much he was to me until he was
nothing to me. Then I saw how, during all the glad
seasons, all the long years of swiftly-passing hours I
had enjoyed him, my soul had fed upon his friendship
— how my hungry soul had fed, and was satisfied.

He was a hon-vivant of the right honorable order of
brokers, and a model member of the mad fraternity.
As a man of the world, he was acute, bold, clear-
headed, lively. He was the soul of honor, and so
careful of his clients' interests that I have known him
repeatedly to pocket a loss arising through no fault of
his, and never reveal the fact.

Nervous, highly-strung, quick as unchained light-
ning, and fiery as Lucifer, he was specially adapted
to his arduous calling, and was one of the most effi-
cient members of the board. The work so wore upon
him, however, that at times I could discern from day
to day a sinking under it, until he was forced to take
rest. Then he would want me, and I was usually
ready to attend him, for at that time I had no family
at hand to break the dead weight of mental applica-
tion.

He was peculiar in many ways, but his little singu-
larities I loved. I never knew a more open-hearted
or freer-handed man. I never knew one more pure-
minded, or further removed from littleness. He
knew not what meanness was, except as he encoun-
tered it in others, and then it was so repugnant to his
nature that he seldom referred to the subject, no mat-
ter how exasperating had been the circumstance. Of
exquisite sensibilities, his whole being seemed attuned
to the most refined strains of soul and sense. Every-
thing that he touched must be of the best. He was
scrupulously neat in his habits, and his heart was as
clean as his hand. He loved good company, a good
table, good wine and cigars, and good horses ; and no
matter how times were, or whether he was making or
losing money, whether he was flush or bankrupt,

698 BODY AKD MIND.

these things he would have, and to his friends he
poured them out hke water.

Never man so wound himself round all my thoughts
and purposes ; never was friend so intertwined among
affection's heart-strings. Full of electrical joy to me
was the air he breathed; full of gladness was my
heart when the sound of his voice struck my ear, and
his smile sent the warm, thrilling sunlight into my
soul. His was one of the most happy, cheerful dispo-
sitions I ever encountered. In his hours of recreation
he was as joyous as a child, and as free and frolicsome.
It were worth one term of torture, — the happy hours
I have spent with him.

Because our daily occupations were so widely differ-
ent, I enjoyed his company the more. The mys-
teries of stock-boards were as unfathomable to me as
those of history-writing were to him. On the firm,
clean, common ground of pleasurable emotion we met ;
on the ground of spontaneous liking for each other —
this, and nothing more. He was married, and he
husbanded and fathered a charming family, whose
members lived in him and he in them.

About their home was an air of refinement, mingled
with a joyous ease and freedom which nature herself
might envy. Few homes were ever happier, few more
fascinating. Though not as rich as some, whatever
pleasures money could buy were lavishly bestowed by
the indulgent father, and sad indeed must be the dis-
tress that should cloud the radiant features of the lov-
ing wife and mother.

And he is lost to me ! Surely my cup of pleasure
never seemed to overflow before ; was it, then, neces-
sary to mix wormwood in the only draught tasteful to
me ? Nay, never was foul mixture proffered by him ;
rather, was it necessary to dash this cup from my lips
and leave me forever thirsty for a friend ?

Lost I And yet, we never quarreled. We had
never aught to bring disagreement between us.
Neither sought advantage over the other. Neither

LOST! 699

wished anything the other would not gladly grant,
were it in his power. Money ? He would pour out
gold like water for me, and delight in doing it.

Lost ! And never an unkind word ! And all the
while my heart going out toward him like that of
mother or brother.

Lost to me ! and as effectually as if he were dead ;
and I have wished that one of us were dead, that the
separation might be consecrated by the inexorable. I
have mourned him as dead, and to my dying day I
will so mourn him. He was the light of my days —
the only light that penetrated certain dark corners
within ; why should I not mourn the darkness that
shall never again be dissipated ?

Lost ! And the undoing all my own, all by my
own fault ; by no fault of his, for he never had a fault
of friendship. It is pitiful ; it is damnable ! A sacri-
fice, I might call it, laid by the high-priest of friend-
ship upon the altar of idolatry. It was a martyrdom
which I was called upon to suffer, with misery as the
only crown. From the point our path di^'ided, on to
eternity, I find no other friend. For me, among men
there is no other. In none who walk the earth does
my presence kindle the enchanting flame ; none who
walk the earth warm the cold chambers of my heart
as did his presence.

Throughout the wide universe there is not that ob-
ject, aspiration, or being to take his place. One can-
not make friends as one makes money, off-setting
loss by gain, and striking a balance. Once a
string of the heart's sounding-board snapped, and
there is no mending it. You may insert another, but
it gives not forth the old music.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

EXPEDITIONS TO MEXICO.

By the mess, ere these eyes of mine take themselves to slomber, ay'll do
gild service, or ay'll lig i' the grund for it; ay, or go to death.

King Henry the Fifth.

Having read and written so much about Mexico,
it was but natural that I should wish to go there. I
had completed the history of all that region, with
abundance of material, down to the year 1800, and for
the present century I knew that there existed houses
full of information which I did not possess.

Accordingly on the 1st day of September, 1883, 1
set out, accompanied by my daughter and a Mexican
servant, for the great city of the table-land, proceed-
ing via San Antonio and Laredo, Texas. I took
copious notes of everything 1 encountered, the table
spread of frijoles, tortillas, olla podrida, and the rest,
cooked with garlic and onions in rancid oil, sending
forth a stygian smell not at all appetizing ; the muddy
Rio Bravo, now angry and swollen with late rains,
which we had to cross in a scow at the peril of our
lives ; the general and universal dirtiness pervading
people, houses, and streets ; the currency, being mostly
silver, and at a discount of about twenty -five per cent
below United States money ; the mixed Spanish
and Indian population and architecture, the former
of all shades of color and beastliness, most of the
people being ugly looking, and many of them deformed
and absolutely hideous, the latter of every grade,
from the Andalusian dwelling of stone or adobe,
surrounding a court, to the suburban hut of sticks and
straw ; the soil, climate, and resources of the country ;

( 700 )

LIBRARIES AND LITERATURE. 701

commerce, agriculture, and manufactures; society,
politics, etc., all of which I utilized at good advantage
in Volume vi of my History of Mexico, and which^^I
shall not have space to touch upon here. One thino-,
however, I did not present there, which I will give
here, it being, indeed, the chief object of my visit to
ascertain, namely, about libraries and literature, and
the amount and quality of material for history exist-
ing in the republic.

I did not find at Monterey the archives so historic
a place might lead one to expect. There were the
usual state and municipal documents, of little value
and limited extent, and in answer to a call of the
governor, the nucleus of a state library had been made
by donations. The best library in this region was that
of the bishop of Linares, I. Montes de Oca, renowned
throughout the republic for his ability and learning.

Zacatecas has one of the finest private libraries in
the country, in the possession of Senor Ortega.

Saltillo has even less to boast of than Monterey in
archives and libraries. With unsurpassed facilities
for saving great masses of valuable historical and
statistical information, almost all has been allowed to
be carried away or destroyed through sheer ignorance
and stupidity.

As we penetrate the country we are more and
more struck with the phenomenon of a republic with-
out a people. There is here no middle class. The
aristocracy are the nation. The low are very
low ; they are poor, ignorant, servile, and debased ;
with neither the heart nor the hope ever to
attempt to better their condition. I have never
before witnessed such squalid misery, and so much
of it. It surpasses Europe, and with this dif-
ference : in Europe the miserable know they are mis-
erable, here they do not. Sit at the door of your so-
called hotel, and you will see pass by, as in a panorama
of the accurst, the withered, the deformed, the lame,
and the blind, deep in debasement, their humanity

702 EXPEDITIONS TO MEXICO.

well-nigh hidden in their dingy, dirty raiment, form
bent and eyes cast down, as if the light of heaven and
the eyes of man were equally painful — hunchbacks
and dwarfs ; little filthy mothers with little filthy
babes, the former but fourteen years old ; grizzly men
and women with wrinkled tanned skin, bent double,
and hobbling on canes and crutches, and so on. Into
such pits of deep abasement does man thrust his
fellow man in the name of Christ and civilization,
grinding him into the dust, under pretext of bene-
fiting him. Infinitely happier and better off, and far
less debased and wretched were the people of this
plateau before ever a European saw it.

Saltillo being at this time the terminus of the rail-
way, we took private conveyance to San Luis Potosi,
and thence to Lagos by stage. This, really, is the only
way to see a country, if one does not mind hard
fare. For a fine city, beautiful, prosperous, some-
what primitive, being as yet unmarred by railroads,
San Luis Potosi has few equals. Art and education
are likewise here well advanced, the state supporting
577 schools, with 12,620 attendance.

I found here a man who had visited my library
while in the United States, Doctor Barroeta, a prac-
tising physician, and professor of botany and zoology
in the Scientific Institute of this city, which has quite
an extensive and valuable museum. The state and
municipal archives, consisting of proceedings since
1658, fill a room thirty feet square. The state
archives are kept in bundles on shelves, and the city
archives in cupboards. El Seminario, or the catholic
college, has a well-kept library of 4500 volumes of
theology, law, philosophy, and history.

But by far the best and most important collection
thus far seen since leaving San Francisco was the San
Luis Potosi state library, called the Bihlioteca Publica
del Cientifico y Liter ario, of which I obtained a printed
catalogue of about 3,000 titles, under the headings.
Jurisprudence, Ecclesiastical Laws, Science and Art,

SAN LUIS POTOSt 703

Belles Lettres, History, and Theology. The collection
dates from 1824. The laws and legislative documents
are incomplete, owing to frequent revolutions. The
whole of the year 1834 is a blank, also the period of
the so-called empire, or French intervention. Besides
the Diario Oficial of the general United States Mexi-
can government from 1872, was Za Sombra de Zara-
goza from 1867, giving full information of political
affairs in this section to the overthrow of the admin-
istration of Lerdo de Tejada, which administration it
sustained. Thus will be seen, without further enume-
ration and description, what one might reasonably
expect to find in the state capitals throughout the re-
public, that is to say, from very fair collections down
to nothing. The keeper of the state library gathered
for me a bundle of documents containing the most
important information concerning the state of San
Luis Potosi, so that, by purchase and otherwise, I was
able here, and at other places along my route before
reaching the federal capital, to add about 500 titles to
my library.

There is much that is fascinating in this quaint old
town, with its historic buildings, its mule-mint, and
shops, and signs over the doors such as El Nuevo
Eden, a billiard saloon ; Al Fiel Pastor, a toy-shop ;
La Sensitiva, a wine and cigar store ; La Elegancia,
a barber's shop. I will leave to others a description
of the cathedral, and present to the reader this barber's
shop, where I did myself the honor to get shaved.
Attendant on the operator was a man and a boy. The
man held a towel and the boy a brush ; if the grand
knight dropped his comb, the boy sprang for it, if he
snapped his finger for a napkin, the man bowed low
before him with the desired cloth. I brought away
with me a printed slip detailing the advantages of this
tonsorial temple and the merits of its accomplished
high priest. Freely translated, it reads : '' The Ele-
gance. Hair-dressing. Principal Plaza. Cleanness
and elegance, attention, and promptness. Cenobio

704

EXPEDITIONS TO MEXICO.

Santos Velazquez, professor in phlebotomy of the fac-
ulty of this capital, has the honor to inform liis nu-
merous clients that this establishment has a reo-ular
price for shaving, by which one can get twenty tickets
at the moderate price of five for a dollar, the bearer
being able to use them when he likes. Besides this,
all the operations relating to the science of phlebotomy
are practised, such as bleeding with a lancet, applica-
tion of leeches, cupping or scarifying with glass, caus-
tics, blisters, jets, setons, vaccination. In operations
of the mouth, to clean, file, straighten, fill, and extract
molars, roots, and teeth. Here are found leeches of
the best kind, which are used only once, for the greater
guaranty of the public. The works of hair-dressing,
as big wigs, little wigs, helmet wigs, braids, diadems,
frizzes, beards, mustaches, whiskers, and all the various
branches of the art will be performed with the greatest
attention and promptness." Perfumery is then adver-
tised, and finally, dyeing. The document concludes :
*' To the solemn poor, work is free," — that is, to the
poor of good standing, the poor of grave aspect, the
pious poor, the highly respectable poor, the poor who
never would ask.

Staging in Mexico is an experience few care to re-
peat. And yet it has its fascinations. Passing down
over the plateau, the traveller finds vast areas covered
with hojasen, a kind of sage-brush, mezquite, gober-
nadora, and agrita, and he experiences a sense of lone-
liness, or of something lacking, away from the leading
lines of traffic. An occasional band of sheep or herd
of cattle, accompanied by a herder or vaquero, alone
breaks the monotony. It is the absence of this same
middle class, before discussed, which should be over-
spreading the land with their myriads of happy homes.
This land is fertile, and needs only irrigation to sup-
port a large population. He journeys league after
league through silent, untenanted fields, with here and
there a hut or a cluster of adobes, and at intervals an
hacienda and a town. It is always an hacienda or a

STAGING OVER THE PLATEAU. 705

hut. The owner of the former, who spends Httle of
his time on the premises, holds from five to fifty, and
sometimes a hmidred, square leagues of lands; the
occupant of the latter is essentially his serf, though
not legally or literally so. Around the large, fortress-
like adobe buildings of the hacendero are grouped the
jacales, or thatched huts of the laborers, the occasional
herders' huts being scattered over the plains.

Everything strikes a stranger as old, exceedingly
old, and dirty. The towns of thatched huts and tile-
roofed adobes, with their central plaza and church,
market-place, little shops, and poor inn, are all of the
same pattern as the more pretentious cities which dis-
play more stone in their construction ; when you have
seen one of them, you have seen them all.

The cosey plaza in the centre of the town, with its
paved walks leading to the fountain in the centre,
orange-tree borders, and beds of shrubs and flowers,
is usually quite attractive, and in fact, throughout
Mexico the plaza, where at dusk the people gather
to listen to music by the band, walk and talk, flirt
and gossip, is at once a unique and charming feature
of Mexican life.

Few have suburbs drawn out in filthy huts or
elegant homes, but stop short, as if at a wall, which,
indeed, has encircled many of them at some period of
their existence as protection against surprise by ma-
rauding bands of Indians or guerrillas. The region
round is too often a dreary waste, with stretches of
sand, or with bare-looking cultivated strips.

In most of the cities, the Asiatic style of architec-
ture is conspicuous, the Moorish, perhaps, predomi-
nating. The houses with their solid walls are usually
of one story, low, with flat tiled roof, the better class
built round a court, with a wide entrance, closed at
night with double doors, and having iron-barred win-
dows devoid of glass looking into the court and street,
or as often without windows. The palaces, as they
are called, and the better class of dwellings are usually

Lit. Ind. 45.

706 EXPEDITIONS TO MEXICO.

of two stories, with colonnades, arched, perhaps, in
masonry below and roofed with wooden rafters above.
The floors are usually of burnt-clay tiles, and bare.
Outside run narrow stone sidewalks, frequently worn
hollow by centuries of use. Though everywhere with
plain and often forbidding exteriors, there are dwell-
ings in the chief cities with interiors of oriental luxury
and splendor.

Land and vegetation and cultivation improve as
the central and southern portions of the republic are
reached. Here are seen vast stretches as fertile and
beautiful as any in the world, producing three crops a
year by irrigation and attention ; and places are found
of pronounced character, displaying marked individu-
ality, such as Mexico City, Vera Cruz, Queretaro,
Oajaca, Guadalajara, and others, some owing their
origin to missionary convents, some to the will of a
rich landholder, others to the course of trade. Elegant
villas can be seen in the suburban towns of the capital,
but there is scarcely in the republic what would be
known in the United States as a country-seat or a
farm-house.

Notwithstanding the monotony, the observer finds
much that is exceedingly picturesque. The towns
and the country, the people and their surroundings,
all present studies. Here is foliage filled with blos-
soms and loaded with fruit ; here are fragrant flowers
and fantastic parasites, palms, orange and lemon trees,
and a thousand other offshoots of redundant nature —
this for the tierra caliente, and also for the footland
cities ; and for the table-lands, colored hills and plains
covered with a peculiar vegetation.

The statuesque is everywhere. Over thousands of
leagues you may go and see ten thousand weird and
fantastic images in the palm and the cactus, in the
mirage and in the mountain. The southern sierras
are grand, and of every hue and height and contour.

In the cities the churches stand conspicuous, and on
the streets are figures of every form and pose. Drive

THE STATUESQUE. 707

into any town in any hour of the day or night, be it
in scorching summer or freezing winter, and standing
by the roadside and in the doorways are grim figured
wrapped in scrapes and rebozos, motionless and silent,
but always graceful and picturesque. You see them
when you come and when you go, as if they had
stood there since Mexico was made, and were now
waiting for the last trump to sound.

In travelling far by diligencia, race colors approach
each other, the dark skin being lightened and the light
skin darkened by dirt. I sit on top behind the drivers,
for there are two, the cochero and his deputy, who
are wholly oblivious of my presence until a few reales
to each make me known to them. So stationed, and
watching their movements for three days, having little
else to do but to hold on and keep my face from blis-
tering, I come to know them well, and to be able to
count upon my fingers their distinguishing character-
istics.

The cochero was a small man, weighing but little
over one hundred pounds, and measuring not over five
feet four, but his muscles were steel. He wore white
cotton breeches, leathern leggings, untanned leather
boots, white cotton jacket, slouched straw sombrero
with the orthodox four dents in the high-pointed
crown, and a colored hankerchief round his neck or
waist. He was the most diabolically happy fellow I
ever met ; he used to find vent for his high spirits in
cutting with his whip at the passing cart-mules and
their drivers. Yet his voice was low and plaintive,
as gentle as that of any woman, scarcely above a
w^hisper even when issuing orders to his assistant and
stablemen, of which there were usually half a score in
attendance at the stations. His mules he would curse
gently and with a smile.

His wife rode with him for a day and a night. She
had a child in her arms. The night was cold— the
early morning specially so. A gown each, one thick-

708 EXPEDITIOXS TO MEXICO.

ness of cheap cotton, and a flimsy rebozo between
them was all their clothing ; and while I shivered in
a heavy overcoat, she made no sign of being cold.
Cochero was very kind to his wife and child, but that
did not prevent the usual delicate attentions to his
dozen other girls along the road.

Soto cochero, he called his assistant, a boy of six-
teen, who was as lithe and active as a cat, jumping
off to hitch up a trace, free the rein, instil diligence
into a forgetful animal, or replenish his stock of stones
for use while crossing a creek or river, running and
clambering upon tlie stage and crawling all over it
while going at breakneck speed, or bouncing about
the rocky road with such force that the wonder was
how wood and iron could be put together so as to
stand the blows. Not the least of the soto cochero's
duties was to keep his superior in cigarettes, lighting
them and taking a few puffs himself to be sure they
were in order. He in turn was allowed to hold the
reins occasionally, and di*eam of days when he would
be cochero. Both of these fellows had to be up at
three in the morning and work frequently till eight
or ten at night, the one receiving therefor thirty dol-
lars a month and the other fifteen. Frequently the
boy gets no more than eight or ten dollars, and has to
board himself at that. They drove eight mules ; two
at the pole, then four abreast, and two leaders. Each
carried a whip, one with a short lash, and one with a
lash sixteen feet long and an inch thick at its thickest.
In using the large whip the driver would let the lash
drag out at full length for a moment ; a twist of his
arm would then bring it perfectly coiled high into the
air, wiien it would roll off in one long wave and de-
scend with unerring accuracy upon the off leader's ear,
or under the belly of a nearer animal, the latter being
the more difficult feat. If by good luck he peeled
the skin from some lazy leg, the faithful lash with
merciless accuracy was sure ever after to find the
bloody spot.

VERY MULISH MULES. 709

It was a sight to see this gentle creature handle a
bucking team in starting from the station. The
noses of the wheelers are lashed to the pole, their
mouths bleeding, their legs striking out in every di-
rection, the leaders and others being held each by a
man. At a low word from the driver the men all let
go their hold and step back. Then comes the jump-
ing and plunging and kicking and running of the
brutes, while the cutting lash descends in rapid blows,
the driver attending to the leaders, while the assist-
ant makes forcible suggestions to the wheelers with
his short heavy whip. True to their instincts, the
animals presently rebel against being thus urgently
pressed forward ; they drop down into a trot, and let
wag their ears in humble docility. Then the assistant
lets fly still further solid arguments in the shape of
stones, of which he has provided a supply for the occa-
sion. A kicking mule is the delight of a cochero,
who whips until the animal kicks himself out of the
traces, and then whips until he kicks himself back
again. Some of these mules are very mulish. I saw
at one station a wheel-mule squat on all fours and
refuse to move, allowing the coach to pass over it,
turning its harness over its head, and cutting deep
gashes in its back with the projecting bolts under the
axles, rather than take his daily jaunt. A substitute
was found, and the mule walked away, shaking his
head, to enjoy his hard-earned holiday.

I should not be doing my duty by Mexico were I
to pass by without notice that most useful and de-
voted production, the burro — a faithful companion,
a patient servant. Behold his ears — his long hairy
ears, lying horizontal with his large hairy head ! He
wags them as the flies and bugs crawl in — slowly, sol-
emnly wags them, while a settled air of sullen silence
overspreads his features, which the lash of the driver
fails greatly to disturb. His unshod feet make little
more noise on the stone pavement than a cat's, not-
withstanding he may be jogging along under a load

710 EXPEDITIONS TO MEXICO.

bigger than himself. For centuries this Httle brute
has been carrying the wood from the hills, the water
from the rivers, the produce from the lowlands, and
the ore from the mines, the omnipresent link of all
industry. He may be seen singly bringing to market
the wares of the mountaineer, with wife and baby
perched atop, or in trains at night laden with the
products of nature or industry, seeking the early
market ; for poor indeed is he who cannot keep a burro.
Overworked, underfed, beaten, kicked, and cursed, he
remains the same serene and stoical beast to the last.
To the steam-cars on their first arrival he lifted up
his voice in welcome, thinking his troubles at an end.
But alas I for man's ingenuity, which finds for him now
more work than ever. So with a somewhat deepened
melancholy he relapses into the philosophic mood, and
accepts each day its proportion of the foreordained
number of blows, never allowing one of them to dis-
turb his serenity, or cause him to move in any degree
the faster. Happy burro I

We pass on the way long trains of large-wheeled
carts piled high with merchandise, the native products
going one way and foreign products the other way.
The whole is covered with white canvas, and has the
appearance of a lime-kiln on wheels. Each cart is
drawn by nine or twelve mules, driven by dark mozos,
the lighter-skinned conductor, or perhaps owner of
the train, attending in gay trappings on horseback.

In the carrying trade the arrieros, or the drivers
of pack-trains, play an important part. They are
honest people, conveying cargoes from one city to an-
other with scrupulous care. Owing to bad roads and
deep ravines pack-mules are employed, on the whole,
more than wagons or carts. In past years the im-
mense carrying trade has been done almost entirely
by mules, and not unfrequently thousands might be
seen starting from the capital or a seaport laden for a
journey of a thousand or fifteen hundred miles into

AGRICULTURE. 71I

the interior. La conduda, the treasure train, which
transported the products of the mints and the coin of
the merchants from the interior to the capital, fre-
quently carried from half a miUion to several million
dollars in coin and bullion. These trains were
heavily guarded by soldiers, and with them the mer-
chants and their families travelled to and from the
large cities. With the advent of the railroads and
express companies all this has become a thing of the
past, and with the custom has gone the prosperity of
many of the interior towns whose life depended on the
trade of these caravans. In compensation, the railroad
builds new towns and develops fresh industries.

The way-stations between the towns are the char-
acteristic haciendas every now and then encountered,
and consisting sometimes of a large adobe dwelling
and outhouses, surrounded by a whitewashed wall,
and sometimes of the wall and small buildino-s without
the large dwelling, with usually a muddy artificial
lake, fed by the rains and drainage, with milky, muddy,
Ihny, slimy water, and also a well and pump, worked
by mule or man power, or a large, square tank of ma-
sonry, to which the water is conducted by an under-
ground aqueduct. Some hacienda buildings present a
very palatial appearance ; instance those of Hacienda
de Bocas of the Farias brothers, eleven leagues from
San Luis Potosi, which is valued at half a million dol-
lars, has 600 retainers, plants 1,000 bushels of wheat
and 3,000 of corn, and has had expended in artesian-
well experiments $200,000.

On the northern central table-land, the corn is usu-
ally small and poorly cultivated. In other localities
farming is better done, the rich plantations attaining
high culture, and the natives presenting a better ap-
pearance. Yet we see, in most instances, the same
primitive ploughs of wood drawn by oxen, the yoke
tied to the horns. With one hand the ploughman
holds the plough, which has but one handle, while in
the other hand is a long goad. This fashion prevails

712 EXPEDITIONS TO MEXICO

also with the American ploughs now widely displacing
the native, for all are preferred made with one handle.
What, indeed, is the use of two handles, when one
answers every purpose ?

Nearly everything is done in pairs. Sometimes one
person is sent to watch another, sometimes to help.
Women go usually in pairs. On the stages are two
drivers, and I have seen on the cars two conductors,
one taking the tickets while the other checked them
off. Men and mules are cheap in this country, and
women also, but they seem to get things mixed a little.
For often is seen the man doing the mule's work, and
the woman taking the man's task ; and too often, in-
deed, man, woman, and mule all doing nothing.

The city of Mexico is the Paris of America. Al-
though ensconced in the heart of the country, it is
less Mexican in type than might be expected, owing
to the efforts of the early Spanish viceroys, as well as
to the concentration there of a society largely trained
by residence and travel in Europe.

It has been subject to the most remarkable changes
of a natural as well as of a social and political charac-
ter. Once it was the Venice of the continent, en-
throned out in the lake, while at a respectful distance
swept the sheltering circle of forest-crowned knolls
and green meadows, studded with tributary settlements
that peeped in gleaming whiteness out of their garden
foliage.

The imperial courts of the Montezumas lent their
splendor, swelled by the partly enforced presence of
caciques and nobles from all parts, with their host of
retainers and their palatial residences on rising terraces
with colonnades, battlemented parapets, stucco adorn-
ments, and hanging gardens. Around spread the
dwellings of traders, artisans, and serfs, to the number
of 60,000, equivalent to a population of 300,000, and
covering an area never since equalled.

Canals crossed the city in every direction, teeming
with market canoes and stately barges. On gala days

THE CAPITAL CITY. 713

the lake itself swarmed with pilgrims and pleasure-
seekers, especially to witness the imposing ceremonies
at the many temples, raised high above the dwelling's
of mortals upon lofty pyramids. Appropriate stages
were there to heighten the effect of mystic rites, and
lend additional horror to the immolation of human
beings upon the sacrificial stone ; while priests in gor-
geous pageantry circled with chant and smoking cen-
sers round the ascending path of the huge pedestal.

And night veiled not the enchantment, for eternal
vestal fires shone from every summit, and humbler
tributaries flickered below from light-houses and street
beacons to guide the traveller and call devout atten-
tion to the sacred abode of deities, reflected also in the
starry sky and peaceful waters of the lake.

Whither has flown this splendor ? Everywhere now
we meet the withering as well as renewing influence
of a new civilization : in the defective drainage system
for the lakes, which has left unsightly marshes instead
of green swards to fringe their ever-narrowing ex-
panse ; in the wanton destruction of forests which
covered the hills and shaded the settlements ; in the
razing of ancient structures and outlying suburbs by
early conquerors; and in the ravages of later civil
wars.

Now the city lies at some distance from the lake,
with mere traces of its waters in the few canals, and
in disfiguring moats before the remnants of frowning
walls and ramparts. Canals have given way to roads,
with here and there a shady avenue ; the solid pyram-
idal temples to turrets, domes, and spires, which
shelter saintly images and pale tapers in Heu of grim
Huitzilopochtli and flaming brasiers, and with clang-
ing bells drown the dread notes of the famed Tepo-
nastli. Terraced and garden-covered palaces have
yielded before the less romantic structures of moresque,
gothic, and renaissance styles.

The sights in and about the capital are numerous
and interesting. Besides the government palace, re-

714 EXPEDITIONS TO MEXICO.

built from the ancient structure represented above,
occupying two blocks with immense courts, and mak-
ing up in extent and solidity what it lacks in style of
architecture, there are the cathedral, which, from an
architectural point of view, is considered by some the
finest in America, the libraries, the museum, the art
galleries, the school of mines, and the many other in-
dustrial, religious, and benevolent institutions, the zo-
calo, or government plaza, with a fine stand for the
musicians in the centre, surrounded by trees, shrubs,
and flowers in profusion. On the east is the palace,
on the north the grand cathedral, on the west are com-
mercial houses, and on the south the offices of the
municipal government. The zocalo is often illuminated
at night, and there the best bands play and the elite
of the city promenade. There are also the alameda,
a beautiful foot-park, ten acres in extent, with shady
walks and bowers, fountains sparkling at every turn,
and towering trees shading all from the heat of the
sun ; the race-track, the bull-ring, and at a little dis-
tance, the Guadalupe and Loreto shrines, the floating
gardens, and famed Chapultepec, the residence suc-
cessively of Aztec monarchs, Spanish viceroys, and
Mexican presidents, a castle on a hill rising out of
the dense forest, approached by the Paseo de la Re-
forma, the drive of Mexico. Many strange scenes
these venerable cypresses have witnessed; history
unwritten and never to be known of aboriginal wars,
of statecraft and priestcraft, of love-makings and
merry-makings, for these trees were hoary, and of
heavy, flowing beard when Quauhtemotzin was born,
though still vigorous now, and of majestic mien.

While the city of Mexico is well laid out, the
streets for the most part being straight and regular,
so that from one point can be seen the hills bordering
either side of the valley, they are peculiarly named
and numbered, a change occurring sometimes at every
block. Occasionally the same name is retained for a
lonofer distance, when the several blocks are desiofnated,

GENERAL FEATURES OF THE CITY. 715

for instance, as primera calle de San Francisco, se-
gunda calle de San Francisco, etc. About the old
church and plaza of Santo Domingo, the site of the
dread Inquisition building, is noticeable what a hold
the name has on the vicinity. There are not only
primera, segunda, and tercera Santo Domingo, but
Puerta falsa de Santo Domingo, or False gate of Santo
Domingo street, and Cerca de Santo Domingo, or
Near Santo Domingo street.

But this will soon be changed. Already they have
widened into a beautiful avenue the thoroughfare run-
ning from the cathedral to the opera-house, giving it
the one name, calle del Cinco de Mayo, or Fifth of
May street, a standing compliment to General Diaz
and the gallant soldiers under him for the defeat of
the French before Puebla in 1862.

Almost every one on first coming to the capital falls
ill. The change is so great that some part of the sys-
tem is sure to be affected by it in greater or less de-
gree. Even natives of the city, returning after an
absence, have chills and fever, or some other trouble.
The air of the city is thin, and in places bad, and the
climate essentially treacherous. The houses, with
their thick walls and solid masonry and stone floors
and inner courts, are cool, often cold ; the sun is trop-
ical and its rays penetrating. In passing from the
house to the sunshine and back the change is great,
and care must be taken of the throat and lungs.

The city is lower than several of the lakes, and in
digging anywhere three or four feet through the
upper strata of century debris and mouldering Aztec
remains, water is reached. This sponginess is a com-
mon feature of the upland valleys. There are in some
localities stygian smells, which would infect the entire
city did they not rise so quickly and pass away in
the thin, pure air without— as the theory goes— as to
prevent spreading. Still, the city is not considered
unhealthy.

716 EXPEDITIONS TO MEXICO.

During winter the streets of tlie capital are covered
with a fine dust, and railway travel is as bad as in the
United States in summer. The climate of the city of
Mexico is very like that of San Francisco, with the
seasons reversed, and leaving out the fogs of the latter
place. Thus, in Mexico the rainy season is in tlie
summer and the dry season in the winter, with winds
corresponding to the summer winds of San Francisco.
The temperature varies but slightly during the rainy
and dry seasons.

The question of draining the valley has been dis-
cussed for two centuries or more, and much work
has already been done. It will some day be finished,
and when cleanliness shall be added, the city of
JMexico will be one of the healthiest capitals in the
world.

There is always more or less danger to foreigners
from yellow-fever on either seaboard ; thougli during
the winter months with proper care the risk is re-
duced to a minimum.

Small-pox is common in greater or less degree at
all seasons throughout most parts of the republic, so
that stranofers coming in cannot be too careful with
regard to vaccination. The multitude of scarred
faces one everywhere sees tells the story.

There are feast-days and religious holidays without
end ; and if not a curse, they are at least a nuisance.
Why take so much of this world's little span of time
for the next world's affairs, with its eternity for their
arrangement ? Most of the shops, except those of •
the barber, the grocer, the dram- seller, and the food
dispenser, close on such occasions, as well as on Sun-
day, and even the street stand is withdrawn at two
or three o'clock, while the venders of fruits, dulces,
and trinkets, in the plazas and market-places, prose- j
cute their calling till dusk or far into the night.

Yet the poor people do not suffer from an excess oi
religion. They indeed appear to derive great com-j
fort from it ; and it is doubtful if many of them would]

RUM AND RELIOION. 717

be better employed were there no such celebrations ;
at all events, they are ready to employ any excuse to
escape from labor. Even courtesans, gamblers, and
highwaymen stay their course for a moment to dh'ect
a prayer and devote an offering, though their object
may be doubtful. Then the day is so happily helped
out by drink and the bull or cock fight. Between
religion and morality there seems to be slight con-
nection ; and though great crowds, drunk with pulque,
gather in and round the churches and throng the
streets, there is seldom any quarrelling, or even bois-
terous talk. The police are strict in their watch, and
he who creates a disturbance is quickly arrested and
marched off to jail, this promptness of punishment
exercising a most healthy influence also on that class
of foreigners which frequents bar-rooms and indulges
in fiery drinks.

The hotel accommodations in the city of Mexico
are good of their kind, but the travelled stranger will
not like them. The rooms as a rule are too cold and
cheerless, and the restaurant method of having your
food served is not the most attractive for Americans,
who are accustomed to the best hotels in the world.
Rooms in the best hotels can be obtained at from two
to four dollars a day, with a reduction for longer
occupancy. In a private family furnished rooms rent
at from twenty to thirty dollars a month. There are
plenty of unfurnished rooms and houses to rent, but
furniture is scarce and expensive. There are fine op-
portunities for establishing in Mexico first-class hotels
on the American plan, and in certain country towns
first-class hotels may be found with rates for room
and board at from two to three dollars a day. The
buildings should be constructed of brick, stone, and
iron, with bay-windows and ornaments, with ventila-
tion, elevators, fireplaces, bath-rooms, and all the
latest improvements. Such establishiT ents, properly
conducted, are much needed, and would pay well in
the capital if not iu other places. Till then the

718 EXPEDITIONS TO MEXICO.

transient dweller must suffer discomfort and be ex-
posed to the outrageous extortions of restaurateurs.
The best procedure is to bargain to be fed after the
desired mode for so much a month, including every-
thing ; then if not more than twenty -five per cent be
added to the agreed price for pretended additions
and variations, one may rest satisfied.

The Mexicans of the better class have adopted the
European style of living : the desayuno consisting of
coffee or chocolate on rising, after which horseback
riding ; ahnuerzo, or breakfast, usually between nine
and twelve, equivalent to a full dinner in some coun-
tries, with a great variety of dishes from soup to
dessert, with wine and cigars, to be followed by pro-
fessional duties ; comida, or dinner, from two to four,
and after this the siesta, less observed in the capital
than formerly, and wholly unnecessary, though usually
observed on the table-land. Then the ladies have a
merienda, or luncheon, from four to six, in which the
men, who are supposed to be at business, do not in-
dulge. Last of all is the cena, or supper, from eight
to eleven. Professional men close their offices at six;
then after supper stroll in the plaza or call on friends,
and after chocolate and cigars, retire.

Descending the scale of wealth and refinement to
a commoner class, the cooking becomes more Mexican,
until tortillas supply the place of bread, and pulque
supplants even the cheap vile stuff of the country
called wine. Probably fruit comes first as the staple
food of the poor ; particularly the tuna, or cactus fruit,
which is palatable and wholesome, and after that
com, beans, with now and then eggs and goat's meat.

In many ways they produce comparatively great
results from small means, which is the highest
achievement of science. For example, in their cookery,
with a bit of meat and a few vegetables, two or three
earthen pots and a handful of charcoal, they will
make up for the table half a dozen dishes which may
be pronounced excellent.

MONEY AND MANNERS. 719

The markets upon the table-land are attractive;
although tropical fruits and other products of the
lowlands are not what a stranger expects to find,
excepting the delicious pineapples and certain kinds
of oranges ; but drop down to the tierra caliente, and
the difference, not only in the fruits but in the people,
is remarkable.

Mexican money, consisting of bank notes and silver
at the capital, and away from there of silver chiefly,
is usually rated at from twelve to eighteen per cent
less than American money, which can readily be
changed. There is little gold in circulation.

National bank notes and Monte de Piedad paper
are coming into general use about the capital, and
gradually spreading in the country. On the border
good paper money is rare ; but between most inland
cities local bills of exchange can be brought, so as to
avoid the risk and trouble of carrying silver over the
country. A person making an extensive tour through
distant parts, however, must still have a mule to carry
the purse. Exchange on New York or London for
an equal amount of silver commands in the city of
Mexico a large premium.

From the highest to the lowest of the Mexicans there
is an extreme politeness which soon permeates the less
pliant nature of their northern neighbors on coming
hither. I have even seen a Yankee railway conductor
take off his hat in speaking to a Mexican passenger,
and him of no extraordinary quality. Men often
embrace on meeting, each putting his arm round the
other and patthig his back; and the youth occasionally
kisses the hand of the elder, w^ho rises while under-
going the ceremony. On meeting and parting, ladies
kiss their very dear friends on both cheeks, and on
the street there is no end of finger-wiggling one to
another. This latter mode of recognition at a dis-
tance is likewise indulged in by the men, and consists,
with uplifted hand, of plying vigorously the two middle
fingers.

720 EXPEDITIONS TO MEXICO.

The reception-room in every house of pretensions,
and in public offices, has a sofa, witli rug in front, and
at eitlier end chairs, placed at right angles to it,
other chairs being ranged about the room. This, as
in Germany, is the place of honor, to which on enter-
ing the guest is bowed, the host seating himself hi
one of the chairs at the side. Ladies receive in the
same way. Fashionable people would as soon think
of getting along without a house as without a sofa.

On taking your departure after a visit you make
your adieus. The host then follows you to the top of
the stairs — for the reception and drawing rooms are
usually on the second floor — where hasta luego is said
again. As you turn the corner in descending the
stairs to the court, you for the third time bow and
raise your hat, the ladies again repeating their adieus.
In beckoning for a person to come to them, they
move the hand downward and outward, instead of
toward themselves, as common among Anglo-Saxon
races. If you are of the gentler sex, the host, offer-
ing his arm, escorts you down the stairs, and to the
never-absent carriage.

There is a reason for all things, though not in all
things is there reason.

There is no reason in women going barefoot while
the men wear sandals, as do the lowest class in Mex-
ico. The reason may be found by going back to abo-
riginal times, when the men as lords paramount
tramped the forest while the women as inferior beings
drudged at home.

There is no reason in the ladies of the capital driv-
ing to the alameda at precisely six o'clock every even-
ing, rain or shine, often permitting a magnificent day
to pass by without fresh air or sunshine, and then
going out after dark to get neither. Nature has her
moods, though usually fixed in her habits. Fashion-
able women have their ways, which do not always ac-
commodate themselves to the ways of nature. During
the months of October and November there is in the

REASONLESS REASON. 721

City of Mexico a regular five o'clock shower. All the
same, at five o'clock the world of fashion must turn
out of their houses for a drive, dowagers and damsels
declining all other exercise, and closeting themselves at
home until from inactivity a peculiar anaemic malady
results. The reason is that during former troublous
times a guard was placed at the paseo for the protec-
tion of health and pleasure seekers, and the habit
once formed, common sense has not been able to over-
come it.

There is no reason in employing men to do the work
of donkeys, driving them from the sidewalk into the
street while staggering under burdens which might
better be drawn in carts ; imposing upon human be-
ings work which would almost disgrace a beast, and
that with plenty of available beasts. Yet even a
cheap burro may probably be regarded as worth more
than the man at no marketable value. This and the
half-starved, half-naked children, sitting or sleeping
upon the cold damp stones that send deadly disease
through their poor little bodies, are among the saddest
sights I ever beheld. Better a thousand battles and
butcheries, that however cruel terminate quickly, than
this long-drawn agony of man's deep debasement.
For the reason here we must go back to aboriginal
times, when there were no beasts of burden on this
northern continent. Under the successive adminis-
trations which followed those of the Montezumas, the
descendants of the carriers, having found nothing
better to do, must continue to carry till the end of
time, despite the presence of horses and donkeys, and
steam and iron, unless benevolent men force them
into other channels of labor.

Take not too much unction to your soul at a per-
son's telling you that his house is yours, that he and
all his are at your full and free disposal, that he kisses
your hand and kisses your feet, and will live for you
or die at your pleasure, for he well knows, and you
should know, that he would do nothing of the kind.

Lit. Ind. 46.

722 EXPEDITIONS TO MEXICO.

Consider the many meaningless forms among other
nations, which are the rehcs of by-gone ages, when
society was rigorously separated into castes and
classes, masters and servants, lords and serfs, when
strangers were scarce and suspicious personages, and
the visits of friends were few, and take not literally
what are intended merely as polite expressions, in-
dicative of good-will and friendly feeling.

There is no reason in going out of one's way to
make one's self uncomfortable. A prejudice prevails
amono* Mexicans of all classes asfainst artificial heat
in houses. There are probably fewer stoves of any
kind than pianos in Mexico to-day. The walls, either
of adobe, brick, or stone, are so thick that the interior
is cooler in summer than the atmosphere without, and
warmer in winter. Yet upon the high table-land the
houses in winter are not comfortable ; but rather than
have a fire the occupants will shiver the cold months
through, because, they say, the air, already rarefied by
altitude, deteriorates when further rarefied by heat.
When absolutely necessary to heat a room, a brasier
with charcoal is used. The assertion is not proved,
however, either by this line of reasoning or by expe-
rience. It has never been shown that for purposes of
respiration it is worse to warm the air on the top of
a mountain than to warm that at the base. The thin
air when made thinner by the sun in summer is still
healthful; but the superstition remains. And I
notice that Mexicans on passing from an inner room
into the open air often pause for a few moments in an
ante-room, so that the change may not be too sudden.
Visitors are warned against a golpe del aire — blow from
the air — in going from the darkened interior into the
strong light of the street, many receiving injury to
the eyes by so doing. It is common to see persons
walking the streets with a handkerchief over the
mouth.

The bull- fight still obtains, except in places where

AMUSEMENTS. 723

the authorities have reached the conclusion that a
slaughter-house with its cheap display of bravery in
tawdry colors amidst the bellowings of a bull as it
gores to death a ten-dollar horse is not the most in-
tellectual or refined of Sunday occupations, or the best
means of raising funds for charitable purposes, even
if directed by the mayor and presided over by the
governor.

The drama has often been encouraged by the gov-
ernment, no less than twenty thousand dollars being
contributed to support the theatre in 1831-2, and
again during the rules of Santa Anna and Maximilian.

The Mexicans are natural musicians. Every mili-
tary company and every town has its band, or several
of them, whose members have never had regular in-
struction. Tlie son picks up something from the
father, and the leader does the rest, the result being-
very satisfactory, filling the thousands of plazas with
sweet music all through the soft tropical evenings.
Their specialty is the dance-music, with its weird,
rhythmic movement, played in perfect time and tune.
The Mexican ear is remarkably correct, and although
for the most part untaught, their musical taste and
instinct are unerring.

The Mexican musician, though not wholly mortal,
is still subject to the frailties of mortals. Fond of his
pulque, and in need of constant refreshment to keep
him up to the inspired pitch, he sometimes imbibes
too freely, and one of the ever-ready substitutes has
to be called, while the overcome performer lies down
on the floor, and slumbers peacefully, revelry still
mingling with his dreams.

The national dance, the danza, taking the place of
the more pronounced Cuban habanera, has a slow,
swaying movement, conforming well to the music.
Mexican songs partake of the same character, often
with the danza movement running through them. In
fact, the music of the Mexicans isas individual in its way
as that of the Neapolitan airs or German Yolksheder.

724 EXPEDITIONS TO MEXICO.

A striking feature is its melancholy strain. Even
the songs and street cries and strains of laugfhter are
in a minor key. Listen to the plaintive voice of the
people in common conversation, and you would im-
agine them in conference over a dying comrade!

The Mexican gambles upon instinct, if such a term
has any meaning. He has in him superstition enough
to believe in luck; he will not work; he frequently is
sorely in need of money; how else is he to get it?

Notwithstanding the laws existing in the capital,
there is gambling for all grades, tables on which noth-
ing but copper is seen, others of silver with some
gold, and still others where gold alone is used, the
lowest bet here allowed being an ounce.

A law of 1828 closed many of the gambling-houses,
throwing many professional gamblers out of employ-
ment and depriving thousands of their accustomed
amusement. The proceeding showed at once the
material strength of the government able to enforce
so unpopular a measure, and the moral strength of
the rulers, who believed gambling to be iniquitous
and pernicious. Nevertheless, the inherent and old-
time passion was not thus to be quenched. As in
religion, there was much comfort in it. So the fol-
lowing year we find written: "From the highest to
the lowest, all gamble; and it is no uncommon thing
to see the senators, and even higher officers, in the
cockpit or at the gaming-table betting and staking
their money against the half-clothed laborer." Meas-
ures have since been frequently taken to diminish the
evil, but with little effect.

In some countries the business of pawnbroker is
deemed disgraceful as well as pernicious; but in Mex-
ico it is, under government auspices, a source of gov-
ernment revenue, and the management of the Monte
de Piedad, as it is called, is confided to a person of
the first integrity. It receives whatever effects the
poor people can bring, loans them a large percentage

PAWN-SHOPS AND GAMBLING. 705

of their value, and charges a small percentage for the
use of the money when the loan is paid. If allowed
to remain unredeemed for six months the effects are
then sold at auction, a sale taking place every month.
The institution is largely patronized by the lower
classes, and the establishments are indeed veritable
curiosity shops. It has branches all over the repub-
lic, and does also a banking and brokerage business,
to which impulse was given by the confused state of
the laws from colonial times concerning property and
collection of debts. It may be an institution of the
greatest beneficence, as declared ; but if there were
savings banks — a rare thing in Mexico — and the peo-
ple were taught to patronize them, pawnbrokers would
be less needed. So with regard to lotteries, of which
there are both state and national, and from which the
government derives revenue. They are no doubt
well managed; but with less gambling and more
labor, it might be better for the government, or at
least for the commonwealth. Visitors are accosted
at every turn by ticket venders, who inquire, Do you
not wish ten thousand dollars this afternoon ? If you
suggest that the seller improve the opportunity to
benefit himself, he takes it good humoredly, and turns
to the next intended victim.

Female beauty seems to be distributed by sections.
In some parts of tlie republic attractive young women
abound, mestizas as a rule having better features than
the Indians, and being more robust than the Creoles ;
in other parts there are scarcely any who, even by
courtesy, can be called beautiful — only little girls
from eight to twelve, then little old wrinkled mothers
from thirteen to twenty-five, and after that old women,
almost if not quite grandmothers. But an attractive
timidity stamps all the maidens, and even the boys,
which lingers far into maturit}^

Notwithstanding women are so plentiful, wives are
high-priced in Mexico, and so the poor often go un-
married. For a marriao;e license the Mexican laborer

726 EXPEDITIONS TO MEXICO.

must give from five to fifteen dollars, equivalent to
the hard savings of several months, and have a god-
father. While civil marriage has been made legal,
so that poor people might marry without great cost, so
devoted are the lower classes, especially the women,
to the church, that they consider no marriage better
than one not solemnized by the priest, who, as a rule,
charges for his services as much as the means of the
participants admit. Better let them marry freely and
cheaply, and so raise the standard of morality ; the
clerical revenue will not sufi^er.

Mexican love-making, although very pretty and
romantic, would not be at all satisfying to the English
or American idea of the fitness ef things. Randar
la casa, that is, to patrol the house, is a favorite way
of showing affection. The admirer of a sefiorita, elab-
orately arrayed in his best, presents himself, mounted
on a mustang, which, unless fiery by nature, is made
to prance with great spirit by due manipulation of the
cruel Mexican bit. He rides up and down before her
balcony, where she is stationed at a certain hour for
the purpose, occasionally dashing furiously by, and then
suddenly pulling up short, throwing the horse back
on his haunches. This maneuvre is repeated until
the recipient of the delicate flattery deigns to cast an
approving glance on her adorer. Or the love-sick
youth will stand patiently for hours, talking with his
inamorata through the iron-barred windows, if per-
chance for reward he may touch his lips to the tips of
her tiny fingers, and will stand for hours on the side-
walk opposite, gazing at the window where the fair
one ouo'ht to be, but alas ! oftentimes is not. Some-
times flowers, or even notes, are thrown up to her, or
her waiting-maid is bribed to transport the communi-
cation. A cool pair of lovers it must be who cannot
keep at least one confidential servant thus employed.
But a man only too often does not obtain or seek the
entree to her father's house until he goes as her ac-
cepted lover, and then only meets his fiancee in com-

ARTISTIC INDUSTRIES. 727

pany with her family, never a tete-a-tete by them-
selves. The offer is usually made through the media-
tion of a friend, the suitor not appearing on the scene
until all preliminaries are arranged. The duena,
however, never abates her restraining watch upon
them until the marriage-day.

The poor work-woman, in city and country, will
carry her child with her all day, however heavily
tasked or burdened. The children are often stunted
in their growth, if not actually deformed, by the un-
natural positions in which they are borne.

The Mexican housewife, whether she be high or
low, glories in an extensive stock of dishes, although
too often she has little to put into them. I have seen
in one place the walls thickly covered with chea])
pottery, and in another cupboards stored with a thou-
sand superfluous pieces with gilt rim and monogram.
Earthenware of a soft red clay is made, especially at
Guadalupe and Guadalajara, but the best ware comes
from Cuautitlan, and he who brings and sells it is an
ollero. The type usually is pure Indian.

Strangers, on the other hand, patronize the seller
of clay figures, representing types from all handicrafts
with no little plastic skill and admirable elaboration.
At several points, but notably at San Pedro, near
Guadalajara, the Indians exercise great skill in taking
likenesses, either by sittings or from photographs.
The work is done entirely by the eye, no measure-
ments being taken, and the material employed is a
peculiar oily clay of dark color, which when baked
turns a lighter hue. I have seen an image made by
Pantaloon Panduro, a full-blooded Indian,^ from a
photograph, which, considering that the artist never
saw the original, is a remarkable likeness, and shows
great artistic skill. Among the natives special figures
are in demand for difl'erent occasions, in connection
with religious celebrations.

Feather-work also is a specialty in which the Ind

728 EXPEDITIONS TO MEXICO.

ians excel. They not only produce exact imitations
of the feathered tribes which inhabit the country,
mounted in relief on cardboard, but also make
wreaths, and intricate designs in different colored
feathers, producing wonderful results.

The plastic artists also manipulate wax and a va-
riety of stones with great success.

The tecali marble near Puebla is worked into forms
of fruits, fishes, and slabs for tables and bureaus. A
large industry, which would soon gain a world-wide
reputation, might here be built up, for the tecali mar-
ble, besides being peculiar, is sometimes very beauti-
ful. Feather-work and gold and silver ornaments are
among the many artistic industries dating before the
conquest. Then there are opals, shell-work, pearls,
coral, and lava ornaments, the shawls of Guanajuato,
the saddles of Leon, the horn-work and rebozos of
San Luis Potosi.

Home manufactures are indeed more widely spread
throughout the republic than may be imagined from
a mere glance at the import lists. Some have a cer-
tain fame, even if limited in extent, and others sup-
ply the wants of ten million inhabitants ; such as the
several score of cotton and twist mills with an average
invested capital of nearly a million dollars for each ;
woollen factories with an annual output of about five
million dollars, or one fourth of the preceding ; silk
factories which thirty years ago already numbered
twenty-one ; paper-mills which a quarter of a cen-
tury ago were producing paper worth six million
dollars ; ten iron-works were then yielding at the rate
of seven and a half million dollars annually ; and so
along the list, till we reach piano factories, two in
number.

The lower orders are divided into multitudinous
trade distinctions, each having to some extent its own
peculiar dress and customs. For instance, there are
the bafeiteros, or wooden-tray sellers; the petatero, or
seller of reed mats at a medio apiece, brought from

STREET CRIES. ^29

Xocliimilco, near the canal, and used by very poor
people as beds, twenty of them in a sleeping-room
sometmies ; the jaulero or bird-cage seller ; the cada-
ceros or sieve seller ; the canasteros, or basket sellers,
being for the most part of pure Indian blood; and many
others of the same class, who manufacture articles
and carry them from town to town in huge loads on
their backs, manufacturing and selling as they go.

Then there are the cahezeros, who cry ''Good heads
of sheep hot ! " along the street ; the cafetero, who
keeps a coffee-stand ; the velerOy or candle seller ; the
merdllero, or hardware pedler ; the tripero, who sells
intestines to be filled with sausage meat ; the pollero,
or chicken seller ; the escohero, or broom-corn seller ;
the never 0, or ice-cream seller ; the maniequero, or lard
carrier ; the jpirulero, or seller of piru, a red berry for
feeding to birds.

There are men who spend their lives in gathering
sticks to make charcoal ; they are called lenadores ;
and has2ireras, or women who collect rags. These and
other venders are not sparing of their voice with
which to allure customers. The lower class have
their lavandera, or washerwoman, as well as the upper
class ; she of the former wears a hat over her rebozo,
while the other goes bareheaded. There is a good
Yankee steam laundry now in the capital.

Poor Judas ! After having been done to death so
long ago, his soul is not allowed rest to this day. On
the Saturday which follows Good Friday in holy- week,
little images of fantastic shapes with heads of men,
devils, and animals, all very like Judas as he feels
now at different times, and containing powder, are sold
about the streets by the jiidero, and hung up in the
balconies, or strung across the street. There are effi-
gies larger, six or eight feet high, brought out by
those who wish to give the traitor particular punish-
ment. At ten o'clock at night, while the cathedral
bell is striking the hour, fire is set to these images all
over the city ; and the noise of the barking of dogs.

730 EXPEDITIONS TO MEXICO.

and the shaking of the rattles sold by the matraqueros
to frighten the devil away, is enough to make the un-
happy ghost go forth and hang itself anew.

The street cries have not varied much for a century
or two. In passing from the aboriginal tongue the
tone became somewhat changed ; but all through the
period of Spanish domination, and even to the present
day, there is the same mournful song, the same long-
drawn note of woe terminating every cry, even as it
struck upon the ears of Montezuma.

All through the night, in the chief cities, the shrill,
doleful whistle of the policeman is heard every quar-
ter of an hour, giving notice that they are watchful.
The belated traveller is quite likely to hear the chal-
lenge, Quien va f who goes there ? from the sentry-
box of a cuartel, and most promptly respond, Amigol
a friend ; and if further questioned, Donde vivef where
do you live ? replies with the name of his hotel, or
room, and passes on. Unsatisfactory replies tend to
the guard-house.

Early in the morning the people are astir, this
being the best part of the day for work ; then comes
the noon siesta, and the short afternoon of business
or pleasure. The venders alone observe no respite.
All day long from dawn till dark their discordant
voices are heard from hundreds of throats — first the
coalmen's carhosiu-u-u I which being^ translated sii>:-
nifies carbon senor! then the mantequi-i-illa ! of the
butterman ; and cecina buenal from the seller of good
salt beef And now before the door is heard the
prolonged and melancholy note of a woman, Hay
cebo-o-o-o-o-o I whose business is the purchase of
kitchen suet. Another shorter, quicker cry is heard,
likewise that of a woman in shrill soprano, who has
little hot cakes to sell, Gorditas de homo calientes!

Thus the day wears along with ever-fresh varia-
tions, perhaps from a seller of Puebla mats, and from
an aboriginal Jew pedler in Turkish dress, fresh from
the holy land, with beads and crosses and trinkets

SOME CHARACTERISTICS. 731

made from the crosses of all the saints, not to men-
tion numberless beggars whose only capital is some
deformity. And at all times men, women, and chil-
dren of all grades are seUing lottery-tickets. After
noon the men of honey-cakes and cheese and honey
appear; the dulce men, Caramelos de espermal boca-
dillo de coco! Tortillas de cuajadal come on toward
night ; then nuts, and '' Ducks, 0 my soul, hot
ducks ! " There are many more cries than these,
some of late origin, though the " new development "
little changes the native Mexican in this or many
other respects. Whenever a railroad train pulls up
at a station it is immediately surrounded by sellers of
everything eatable and drinkable, whose babel of cries
is irritating to those not disposed to look on the
amusing side of it.

Speaking of lying Mexicans — and there are few of
them who are not proficient in the art — my man Fri-
day, whom I took from San Francisco, is deserving
of special mention. He did not lie for profit, but
from principle. I thought Cerruti a good liar, but
the Italian was a novice beside this Mexican. His
mendacity took the direction of omniscience. What-
ever he wished to be was ; whatever I wished to know
I asked him — then went and found out for myself
The governor was not in town if my fellow did not
feel like going out. Or if my fellow desired time for
his own pleasure, nothing can be done on a holiday,
he would demurely observe.

Ask the average Mexican anything, and he always
has an answer ready; there is nothing he does not
know. He will spin you off a string of lies as natur-
ally and as gracefully as a duck takes to water. And
if you are wise, you will keep your temper; and if
you want anything out of him, pretend to believe him,
for if you tell him he lies, he only shrugs his shoulder,
as much as to say, ''What else could you expect?
As well find fault with a mustang for bucking, as with
a Mexican for lying.

732 EXPEDITIONS TO IMEXICO.

The Mexicans have a way of their own of manifest-
ing their displeasure. While I was with General
Diaz one day, a messenger from President Gonzalez
came with tidings of a revolution on the z6calo. I
have often observed that whenever trouble approached
General Diaz was sure to be sent for. I noticed as I
entered the house that day that the horses, harnessed
to the carriage, stood tied in the stable ready for in-
stant use. In less than one minute from the time he
received notice from the president, with a hasty apol-
ogy to me, General Diaz was rolling off for the scene
of action. As I walked down the street from his
house to my hotel, I found the sidewalk strewed with
glass, the shops all closed, and mounted police patrol-
ling the principal avenues. Presently I met General
Diaz returning, wlio laughingly took me into his car-
riage and back to his house. The poor fellows in the
vicinity of the zocalo, not liking the shave of eight or
ten cents on the dollar which the nickel business sub-
jected them to, knew of no other way of manifesting
their displeasure than going about the streets in bands
of fifty or one hundred, the mounted police marching
after them brandishing their drawn swords, but not
preventing the mob from breaking lamps and windows.

It is remarkable how soon Americans living in
Mexico become Mexican in many of their ways. The
sharp, eager look of the typical Yankee is soon lost,
his activity and energy subside, and he sinks into the
constitutional repose of the Latin race. Between
the sluggish Englishman or the stolid German and
the Mexican there is less difference in the outset, but
all these and others lose their native characteristics
sooner than they are aware.

Nor is it altogether example by which this change
is wrought ; they are forced to it in a great measure
by climate and custom. If on the table-land, they
must moderate their natural pace, ascend flights of
stairs slowly and with measured tread, while in lower
latitudes they must keep out of the sun. They can

A VERY SLOW PEOPLE. 733

transact no business during the many pleasure-hours
and feast-days the Mexican chooses to absent himself;
while the native takes his siesta, the foreigner must
sit and wait. Amid these and similar new conditions
the man becomes new ; he learns to take life easy, to
procrastinate, to fail in his appointments, to speak
smooth words without meaning, and finally, to become
proficient in all the vices of the Mexican without ab-
sorbing a corresponding quota of his virtues. Though
the Mexicans have paid their money to bring the
Chinaman to their door, they have never yet bought
his proverb, which affirms that for him who does
everything in its proper time, one day is worth three.
Rather, the Mexican might say, if one day is worth
nothing, what is the value of three ?

On the whole, after having said many fine words
about the Mexicans, having thought well of them and
become greatly interested in them, working in their
interests as few among their own number ever worked,
I must admit that they are not exactly what I wish
they were ; they are not a human article of which I
should be very proud were I a world-maker.

First of all, I would make them better-looking on
the outside. What is the use of cumbering the earth
with such an ill-visaged race, all that is dark and ugly
in the Spaniard and Indian united ? Their forms are
well enough where developed by work and holding
their heads erect, but their faces, in youth ruddy and
flabby or pale and sinister, assume the aspect of dried
tobacco leaves.

On reaching the city of Mexico, I took up my
quarters at the hotel Iturbide, where I remained four
months, ransacking the city, and making excursions
in various directions.

I had letters of introduction, and being desirous of
seeing and learning all I could and making the most
of my time among a notoriously slow, formal, and con-
ventional people, I at once sent them out, requesting

734 EXPEDITIONS TO MEXICO.

the recipient to name time and place for an interview.

^' I cannot see why you want to make the acquain-
tance of these people," said Morgan, the American
minister, to me one day. "If it is to be entertained
by them, you will be disappointed. Here am I these
three or four years representing the great American
republic, and they pay not the slightest attention to
me. Aside from official intercourse with the minister
of foreign relations, there is nothing between us.
When I came, the chief officials called when I was
out and left their card ; I returned the call when they
were out and left my card, and that was the end of
it.

" My dear sir," I said, *' it is the last thing on earth
I desire — ^to be entertained by these or any other
people. I come to Mexico for a far different purpose.
Still, if I am so let alone as to feel slighted, it will be
for the first time in my life."

The fact is, Mr Morgan could not understand what
it was I wanted in Mexico ; nevertheless, he was al-
ways cordial and accommodating.

For about two weeks my time was chiefly occupied
in making and receiving calls. One of the first to
visit me was Ygnacio M. Altamirano, one of the chief
literary men in Mexico, who boasts his pure Aztec
blood uncontaminated by any European intermixture.
In form he is well proportioned, a little below medium
height, features clear-cut and of pronounced type,
bright, black eyes, and skin not very dark, intellect
brilliant, and tongue fluent of speech.

Altamirano divided the leading literary honors of
the capital with Alfredo Chavero, who was also quite
talented. Altamirano wrote for La Libertad, La Re-
publican and El Diario del Hogar ; any paper was glad
to get anything from Chavero. These men showed
me every attention, and introduced me to the mem-
bers of the Sociedad de Geografia y Estatistica, at a
meeting called specially for that purpose.

Another very agreeable litterateur was Ireneo Paz,

LITERARY MEN. 735

member of congress, and proprietor of La Patria,
which has a daily, and an illustrated weekly edition'
on the front page of which Senor Paz did me the
honor to place my portrait, with a biographical notice,
reviewing my books in the other edition.

Most of the leading journals and journalists in
Mexico are under the immediate pay of the govern-
ment. There has always been one notable exception,
however, in El Monitor Eepublicano, of which Vicente
Garcia Torres was proprietor. The government of-
fered $350 a month to this journal as subsidy, but
Torres thought he could do better to keep himself
free and independent. He was a shrewd old fehow,
8enor Torres, being about seventy, with sharp, grizzly
features, and a man whose kind services I shall ever
hold in grateful remembrance. Morgan introduced
me to him, and besides offering me his columns, he
went out of his way to gather material for me.

I found in Francisco Sosa, author of several works,
and editor of El Nacional, a man of talents, of affable
modest demeanor, such as makes a stranger wish to
know him further.

Indeed, I met so many, who treated me so cordially,
seeming to count it a pleasure to serve me, that while
I cannot pass them by without mention, I still have
not the space to devote to them which their merits
deserve. There was Vicente Riva Palacio, of an old
and aristocratic family, occupying a palatial residence,
with a fine lil)rary, and many superb Maximilian and
other relics, such as the chair of Hidalgo, and the
sword of Mina. Here were the archives of the In-
quisition, in fifty-four manuscript volumes, from the
founding of the institution in Mexico in 1570, to the
time of Independence, say 1814. His house was a
workshop like my library, the owner exercising
great diligence, with men about him extracting, ar-
ranging, and condensing material for his use.

1 met Amador Chimalpopoca, one of the race of
aborio-inal rulers, one night at the rooms of the geo-

736 EXPEDITIOlSrs TO MEXICO.

graphical society. Native American intelligence,
ability, brain power, genius, or whatever it may be
called, is apparently no whit behind the European
article.

On another occasion I encountered a man no less
remarkable in another direction, J. E. Hernandez y
Ddvalos, who for thirty-one years had been collecting
from all parts of the country, Mexico, Miclioacan,
Chihuahua, Jalisco, Oajaca, and elsewhere, documents
relative to the war of Independence, and from that
time to the French war. He states that he copied
everything relating to the subject out of the Biblio-
teca National, and had two copyists in the National
Archives for four years. He was a poor man holding
some inferior government position with a small salary;
but out of it he supported his family and achieved
this great work, while high officials stole millions and
did nothing — not a single self-denying or praiseworthy
act for their country. Hernandez y Davalos was
often promised government aid, but government offi-
cials here, as elsewhere, are too prone to promise with
no intention of keeping their word. In fact Mexi-
cans, of high or low degree, are not remarkable for
their reliability. In 1870 this man had a little cigar
factory in the calle de Dontoribio, worth $700, the
profits from which gave himself and family a fair
support. He had already in his possession many
precious papers, when along came one more valuable
than them all. It was regarding Hidalgo, and was
offered to him for $250. But where was the money
to come from ? He felt that he could not let slip from
his grasp so priceless a treasure, but this was a large
amount for him to raise. He tried in vain to borrow
it ; Hidalgo's paper was worth less in the market than
that of any pulque-seller. At last he actually sold out
his business in order to secure this document. What
would become of the wise and wealthy of this world
were there no enthusiasts or fools ! At this time,
1883, six large volumes of these documents had been

I

SUPERSTITION. ^37

printed by Hernandez y Ddvalos, and 700 subscribers
obtained; but unluckily, a paper adverse to the
character of the virgin of Guadalupe slipped in, and
straightway the subscription list dropped down to
fifty. Men have been immortalized, with piles of
masonry erected to their honor, for far less benefits to
their country than those conferred by this poor
cigarmaker

No small commotion this same virgin of Guadalupe
has made in Mexico first and last. Her shrine is at
a small town not far from Mexico city, Guadalupe
Hidalgo, a place of some political fame, the treaty
with the United States concluding the war of 1846
and transfer of California, among other things, having
been done there. It w^as here, if we may believe the
holy men who have written volumes on the subject,
that the virgin appeared to the poor Indian, Juan
Diego, imprinting her image in his blanket, that the
aborigines of America as well as the aristocratic for-
eigners might have her effigy to worship, and build
her a church on the spot of her present appearing.
The priests pretended to be incredulous at first, but
finally permitted the natives to have their own par-
ticular virgin, as the latter were inclined to neglect
the deities of Spain for those of Mexico. It is not an
attractive place on a holiday for a person of refined
organs or sensitive nerves, as the crowds drawn thither
are not of the best behavior. The gambling and
drinking of the worshippers after church service are
of a rather low order, the bets being small and the
drink pulque. There was one highly respectable den
of infamy, however, where the superior class, the upper
strata of society, statesmen, military ofificers, and com-
mercial men, might indulge in larger stakes at the
tables representing the more popular European games,
with French wine and brandy. For everywhere in
Mexico, as in most other places, it is not vice itself
that is scourged so much as the manner of indulgence.
Any amount of wickedness is anywhere tolerated so

Lit. Ind. 47

738 EXPEDITIONS TO MEXICO.

that it be conventional. It is quite orthodox for the
common people of Mexico to get drunk on pulque,
while the upper strata may indulge without limit in
wine, so long as they do not drink in bar-rooms or
tipple throughout the day. So with regard to
gambling, cheating, law-breaking, unbelief, licen-
tiousness, and all the crimes and vices flesh is heir
to — let them be done decently and in order, in
such a way as to avoid exposure or punishment, and
all is well.

General Cdrlos Pacheco, minister of Fomento, who
lost an arm and a leg in the war, is a man of sterling
worth, and highly respected throughout the republic.
Francisco de Garay, an engineer of great reputation
and ability, in a series of conversations gave me the
coloring for the several phases of Mexican history
during the present century, such as could not be
found in books.

I found in the prominent lawyer and statesman,

Francisco L. Vallarta, a most serviceable friend. Then

there were President Iglesias and his cabinet whom

I entertained in San Francisco during^ their flio^ht to

...
the United States, who were most cordial in their

greetings and attentions. The venerable and learned
Prieto was of their number. I may also mention
Jose Maria Vigil, director of the Biblioteca National ;
Alberto Lombardo, one of the best families; Doctor
Ramon Fernandez, governor of the district General
Naranjo, acting secretary of war and navy; Juan
Toro, postmaster general; Vicente E. Manero, archi-
tect and engineer; Felipe Gerardo Cazeneuve, pro-
prietor of El Mundxmo; Joaquin Garcia Icazbalceta,
with a beautiful house and fine library, whose works
were freely used and quoted by me in my Native
Rdces; Jose Ceballos, president of the senate; Jesus
Fuentes y Muniz, minister of the Hacienda; Luis
Siliceo; Juan Yndico, keeper of the archives of the
district of Mexico; Jesus Sanchez, director of the

CORTEZ AND DIAZ. 739

museum, and a host of others. Icazbalceta is more
bibhographer than writer; he cleans the pages of his
old books, restores lost and faded cuts with pen and
ink, and he even set up with his own hands the type
for one of his reprints. Manuel Eomero Eubio,
father-in-law of the late president, introduced me to
Porfirio Diaz, and he to President Gonzalez. From
General Diaz, the foremost man in the republic, I
took a two weeks' dictation, employing two stenogra-
phers, and yielding 400 pages of manuscript. Natu-
rally, during this time, and subsequently, I became
well acquainted with the Diaz family, dining fre-
quently there, and with the father of the charming
wife of the president, whose home was one of the most
elegant in the capital.

Komero Rubio, then president of the senate, for-
merly minister of foreign affairs, and subsequently
minister under Diaz, is a fine specimen of a wealthy
and aristocratic Mexican; grave and somewhat dis-
tant in his demeanor, yet kind and cordial among
friends, and punctilious in the performance of every
duty, public and private.

Porfirio Diaz appears more American than Mexi-
can. In the hall of the municipality and district of
Mexico are portraits of all the rulers, regal and re-
publican, from Cortes to Diaz. And between the
first and the last are some points of resemblance.
Cortes made the first conquest, Diaz the last. The
former chose Oajaca as his home; the latter was born
there. In this portrait of Cortes, the finest I have
seen, the conqueror is represented as quite old, toward
the end of life, when the pride of gratified ambition
had been somewhat obliterated by the machinations
of enemies, the neglect of his sovereign, and the
jealousy of courtiers. There is present less of the
strong man triumphant than of the strong man
humiliated. Diaz has had his triumphs; perhaps his
humiliations are yet to come. Few great men escape
them toward the end of their career; indee.l they

740 EXPEDITIONS TO MEXICO.

seem necessary, in the economy of politics, to termi-
nate the too ambitious man's efforts, whose preten-
tions otherwise would know no bounds.

The two great receptacles of knowledge, ancient
and modern, historical, scientific, and religious, in the
Mexican capital, and which make the heart of the
student, investigator, or collector, to quail before
them, are the Biblioteca Nacional, or national library,
and the Archivo General y Publico de la Nacion, or
national archives.

The Biblioteca Nacional occupies a large building,
formerly a church, part of the walls of one portion of
it having been worked over until it has quite a
modern and imposing aspect. To enter the library,
as at this time arranged, you pass through a well-kept
garden to the door of the untouched portion of the
antique, passing which you find yourself in a large
room, with irregular sides and angles, well filled with
books. At tables are usually ten or twenty per-
sons readinof or writing:.

Thence through a small door in the wall you may
pass into the main building, or rather the main library
room, on either side of which are ranges of lesser
rooms ;^ each holding one of the sections, or part of a
section, into which the library is divided. The volumes
nominally number 130,000, folios in vellum largely
predominating, nine tenths of which are of no value
from any point of view. Throw out these, and the
many duplicates, and the number is not so imposing.

The sections, or principal divisions, are eleven
namely, bibliography, theology, philosophy, juris-
prudence, mathematics, natural science and physics,
medical science, technology, philology and belles
lettres, history, and periodical literature.

Senor Vigil wrote out for me a very interesting
historical description of this institution. The library
was formed, to a great extent, from the old libraries
of the university, the cathedral, and the several con-
vents of the city. The edifice was the ancient temple

I

I

BIBLIOTECA NACIONAL. 741

of San Augustin, and is still undergoing changes and
repairs to meet the present purpose. On the posts of
the fence surrounding the grounds are busts of notable
authors, Veytia, Navarrete, Alzate, Pena, Alaman,
and Clavijero ; also Cardoso, Gongora, Pesado,
Couto, Najera, Ramirez, Tafie, Gosostiza, Gaspio ;
and the illustrious aboriginals, displaying features
fully as refined and intelligent as the others, Nezahual-
coyotl, Ixtlilxochitl, and Tezozomoc. In the reading
room are statues of persons whose names mark the
devolopment of human thought, according to the esti-
mate hereabout : Confucius, Ysarias, Homer, Plato,
Aristotle, Cicero, Yirgil, Saint Paul, Origen, Dante,
Alarcon, Copernicus, Descartes, Cuvier, and Hum-
boldt.

The library is open from ten to five, and free;
annual revenue for new books $8000 ; the attaches
are one director, two assistants, four book clerks, a
chief of workmen, a paleogeafo, eight writers, a con-
serje, gardener, porter, and three mozos.

All the work on the building, ornamentation, stat-
ues, and furniture, has been done by Mexican artisans
and artists. The labor of classifying and arranging
the books was long and severe. It was found on
opening boxes which had been packed and stored for
fifteen years, that there were many broken sets which
never could be completed. . i j ^i

Far more important for history, if not, mdeed, the
most important collection on the continent, is the Ar-
chivo de la Nacion. I found here in charge my old
friend Justino Rubio, under whose superintendence
much extensive copying of manuscripts and documents,
no where else existing, has been done m times past tor
my library. It did not require the permission ot the
secretary of foreign relations, so readily accorded to
me, to enable me to visit and extract from these ar-
chives at pleasure. .

The national archives occupy eleven rooms m one
section of the palace, pretty solidly filled with mate-

742 EXPEDITIONS TO MEXICO.

rials for history, mostly in documentary form, though
there are some printed books. The first or main room
contains something over 3,000 volumes, relating to
land-titles and water-rights from 1534 to 1820.
Among the many points of interest in this collection
are 200 volumes relating to the Spanish nobility in
Mexico ; the branch of Merced, or concessions of lands
to private persons ; a royal cedula branch, comprising
227 volumes from 1609. Some rooms are filled en-
tirely with manuscripts. The section on history con-
tains much material relating to California and the
internal provinces, from which I have largely copied.
There are no less than 200 volumes on northern his-
tory alone, and 1,000 volumes of military reports to
viceroys, little from which has ever been published.

The founding of this institution may properly date
from 1823, tliough it has a more extended history be-
fore than after that time, while for some time subse-
quent to the independence little attention was paid to it.

I believe it was the Count Revillagigedo who, in
1790, conceived the idea of establishing in Mexico a de-
pository similar to the Archives of the Indies in Spain.
Chapultepec was talked of as the place for it, and two
years later, through his minister, the Marques de Ba-
jamar, the king ordered the thing done. It seems
that the government documents had been mostly de-
stroyed in the fire of 1692, and for a half century
thereafter few were saved.

Copious indices were early made of the material,
thus adding greatly to its value. I notice some of
the headings, as tobacco, excise, duties, pulque, ayun-
tamiento, department of San Bias, of the Californias,
audiencia, mines, military, etc. To Revillagigedo,
likewise, the world is indebted for the important work
in 32 folio volumes, begun in 1780, and entitled Me-
morias para la Historia Universal de la America Septen-
trional, sent by the viceroy to Spain. For some time
after Bevillagigedo's rule, his successors paid little at-
tention to the archives, so that little more was done

ARCHIVO GENERAL Y PUBLICO, 743

until after independence had been achieved.

The first building occupied by the archives was the
old Secretaria del Verreynato, later used by the min-
istry of Relaciones. Part of the collection was depos-
ited in the convent of Santo Domingo, whence many
were stolen.

Among those to fully appreciate the value of these
treasures, and the importance of having them properly
arranged and cared for, was Jose Mariano de Salas,
who in 1846 printed in Mexico a Reglamento, setting
forth their value, not alone for the protection of the
rio-hts of property, but as a nucleus for a vast amount of
fu'rther information which might b secured and saved.

An inventory was ordered, and a schedule made of
material elsewhere existing that should be lodged
tliere. The latter included mniisterial affairs, govern-
ment and war correspondence, etc. Appropriations
were made for annual expenses, the first official
receiving $1500, the second $1200, the third $1000,
a secretary $500, a second $450, a third $400, and a
porter, $300. Salaries and expenses were modified
and changed from time to time. The material was
now divided into two parts, one relating to affairs
before the declaration of independence, and one sub-
sequent thereto. Both epochs were then divided into
four parts corresponding to the four secretaries of
state, namely, memoirs, law, landed property, and
war. Each of these subj ects were divided mto sections,
the first external and internal government, the second
law and ecclesiastical, the third property rights, and
the fourth war and maritime matters. All these were
again divided, and subdivided, into affairs civil, com-
mercial, political, and so on.

The office hours are from nine till three, brreat
care is taken against theft ; no document may be re-
moved from its place without an order, and no
document must be left out of its place over night.

Of this institution I obtained direct and important
information, far more than I can print. 1 learn, tor

744 EXPEDITIONS TO MEXICO.

instance, that to the 3000 volumes of land matters
there is an index of four volumes ; under the title of
gifts are 279 volumes; entails, 181 volumes; civil
code, 1299 volumes; Indians, 7Q> volumes; treasons,
182 volumes; intestates, 309 volumes; drainage, 44
volumes.

Under title of the Inquisition are 218 volumes of
procesos against priests for temptation in the confes-
sional, for matrimonial deceits, blasphemies, heresies,
and upon genealogy and purity of blood. Under the
heading Jesuits, is a volume telling of the extinction
of the order in Mexico. Under title of the religious
orders of California, is a volume on their foundation in
1793. Then there are the archives of the mint, of
the renta de tabaco, etc.

Out of 202 volumes of the national archives relating, to a great extent, to
what was once the northern frontier of the rei^ublic, but now the domain of
the United States, I extract the following:

Historia Tomo XXI., Establecimiento y progreso de la Antigua Califor-
nia. TomoXXII., Id., por el Padre Fray Francisco Palou. Tomo XXIII.,
Nueva California por id. id. Tomo XXXI., Puerto de Nootka. Tomo
XXXVI., Entrada a California del Padre Salvatierra de la Compaiila de
Jesus. Tomo XLIV., Extracto de la navegacion desde el puerto de Nootka y
reconocimiento de la Costa del Sur. Tomo LVII., Expediente histdrico de
las navegaciones hechas d las Costas Septentrionales de Californias para
descubrir y determinar la extension de sus distritos e Islas Adyacentes.
Tomo LXI. , Diario de la exploracion del Alf erez Don Juan Perez a los Puer-
tos de San Diego y Monterey, 1774, No. 7. Id., del Piloto Esteban Jose
Martinez al Puerto de Monterey, 1774, no. 8. Tomo LXII., Id. de los R. R.
P.P. Fray Francisco Atanasio Dominguez y Fray Silvestre Velez de Esca-
lante para descubrir el camino de Santa Fe del Nuevo Mexico al de Monte-
rey en la California Septentrional, 1776, No. 1. Tomo LXIII., Exploracion
hecha el ano de 1779 a las Costas de Californias por el Teniente de Navio Don
Ignacio de Arteaga. Diario del mismo Arteaga, No. 531. Tomo LXIV.,
Diario de navegacion del Teniente de Navio Don Fernando Bernardo de
Quirds y Miranda, 1779, No. 1. Diario del Piloto Don Jose Camacho, 1779,
No. 2. Id. de Don Juan Pantoja y Arteaga, 1779, No. 3. Id. de D. Juan
Francisco de la Bodega y Cuadra, 1779, No. 4. Diario y navegacion del Al-
ferez de Fragata Don Jose de Canizares, 1779, No. 5. Tomo LXVII., Expe-
diente sobre limites de las Costas Septentrionales de California encargada al
Capitan de Navio Don Juan de la Bodega y Cuadra, 1792, Nos. 24-5. Con-
vencion entre Espaiia e Inglaterra sobre la pesca, navegacion y comercio en
el oceano Pacifico y los Mares del Sur, 28th Oct. de 1790, y expediente de
limites al hacer la entrega de Nootka, No. 6. Instruccion de los comercian-
tes propietarios a Mr Jn. Mares, Comandante de los Buques, * La Feliz y la
Ifigenia,' en Ingles y traducida al Espafiol. Tomo LXVIIL, Ocupacion del
puerto de Nootka, 1790, estrecho de Fuca, Costas del Principe Cuillermo,
Entrada de Cook e islas de Sandwich, 1791, No. 1. Tomo LXIX., Descubri-
miento en las costas Septentrionales de Californias desde los 48 grados 26^
hasta los 49 grados 50'', No. 7. Diario e Informes del Teniente de Fragata
Don Manuel Quimper desde su salida de San Bias a Nootka, 1791, No. 8,
con varies pianos de Fuca, Puertos de Clayucuat, San Lorenzo de Nootka,

I

I

CALIFORNIA MANUSCRIPT MATERIAL. 745

Buena Esperanza, Bruks, San Jaime e islas de San Anie. Tomo LXX.,
Llegada del Comandante de la Expedicion a Nootka y remision de su diario
con los pianos, dibujos y noticias esenciales de su comision, 1792, No. 1.
Fortificacion del Presidio de Californias, 1794, No. 4. Reconocimiento de la
Costa desde el Puerto de Bucareli liasta el de Nootka por el Teniente de
Navio D. Jacinto Caamano. Tomo LXXI., Lista de los pianos que incluye
el diario del Capitan de Navio don Francisco Juan de la Cuadra, hecho en su
viaje de Nootka, 1. Vista de las islas Manas, 2. Isla de San Benedicto, 3.
Entrada a Nootka, 4. Piano del Puerto de Nootka, 5. Vista del estableei-
miento de Nootka, 6. Baliia de Nootka, 7. Piano de las Bahlas de Nootka,
y Buena Esperanza, 8. Carta de la costa comprendida entre el grado 49° y el
56 Lat. Norte, etc. , etc. Nuevo Reconocimiento de la Costa de California,
dictamen de los Oficiales de Marina Galiano, Valdes, Bernardo y Salamanca
sobre ir hasta el grado 60°, No. 2. Resultas del descubrimiento de la Costa
entre San Francisco y Fuca por Don Francisco Eliza y el piloto Juan Marti-
nez Bayos, No. 8. Extracto de las navegaciones hechas en la America Sep-
tentrional por D. Jacinto Caamano, Teniente de Navio desde elpuerto de San
Bias de donde salid el 20 de Marzo de 1792, No. 11. Pianos de la Costa de
la Nueva Cantabria, sus islas desde San Lorenzo de Nootka a Bucareli y
Puerto de Bucareli. Tomo LXXIL, Provincia de Californias. Resiimen
general que manifiesta el estado en que se hallan los nuevos establecimientos
de la provincia y expresa los presidios, pueblos, Indies, etc., de que se corn-
pone, 1804, No. 15.

123 Californias, Minas de 1773, No. 1.

Justing Rubio.

Mexico, Noviembre 7 de 1883. _ , ^

Anotacion de los asuntos principales contenidos en el ramo de * Californias,
en el Archivo general y publico de la Nacion.

California, Tomo I., Informe sobre el estado de las fincas que admmistra
D. Florentine Martinez, 1832, No. 6. Sobre saber si el superintend ente de
la casa de Moneda pagd una fianza de $3,400, con calidad de remtegro para
la hacienda publica. No. 8. Que se pasen a la junta directiva ^^el londo pia-
doso de Californias todos los titulos y documentos de su propiedad ^o. 9.
Reglamento de la junta. No. 10. Tomo II., Primera parte, Indice de los
documentos y expedientes relatives a las provmcias de California, 1777, JNo.
1. Segunda parte, minas del Real de Santa Ana, 1713, No. 11. Goberna-
dor de la Nueva California Teniente Coronel Jose Joaquin de Arrillaga, sobre
su iuramento y pesesion y saca del Real Titulo para lo politico ano de 1805,
No. 19. Tome III., Id. para la antigua California Don Felipe Goycochea su
iuramento y pesesion, 1805, No. 20. Tome VIII., Nayegacion de San Bias,
a la Costa Septentrional de California hasta el gradoOl, 17/9 No^l. Diario
de navegacion de San Bias a Sn Diego y sn retorno, 17/8, No. 2. Viage a
la America Meridional desde el puerto de San Diego de Acapulco y regrese
del Callao de Lima al puerto de San Bias por D Juan Francisco Bodega y
Cuadra, 1776, No. 3. Ocupacion de Nootka per Martmez, 1807, No 4 Ar-
rlbo al puerto de San Francisco de la Alta California de la fragata de S ^^I-
B. Racoon, 1814, No. 5. Diario de navegacion de D Esteban J^se Martinez
del viage que hizo a los puertos de San Francisco, San Diego, y Monterey,
1779 No 6 Tomo IX., Fortificacion de los puertos de San Francisco, Mon-
Jerey, y San Diego, con 'artiUeria y pertreches^792, ^^f.oo ^^f |° Vom"
sados per los teinporales en las batenas de SanlVancisco 1/99 No. 8^ Tome
XV., Dictamen del R. P. F. Juan Agustin Merfi sobre el diane y derrotere
de lo's R.R. P.P. Dominguez y Velez de Esca ante desde 1^ Jijl'^^^^^^^^^^^tid^
hasta Monterey y puerto de San Francisco 18o2, No 7 P^^Jff ^^Xnia
con Real drden sobre poblar la costa de Monterey en la Nue\a Laiiioima
58^1 No. 8 Tomo xW., El jefe politico de Californias --P-^^X
plani para convertir en pueblos las misiones, 182\No 33 Las^^^^^^^
Lfor/ando sobre el e.^ado
n^f ;:ra quT^ Sd'l^y'favoS- a Don Antonio de Osio y .e xnforme

746 EXPEDITIONS TO MEXICO.

acerca del punto que trata sobre ganados mostrencos de Calif ornias, 1801,
No. 6. Estragos que en Diciembre de 1812 causaron los temblores en la Alta
California, 1813, No. 15. Tomo XXVI., Reales drdenes a los vireyes sobre
el gobierno de las misiones de Calif ornias, 1747, No. 1. Tonio XXXV., Se-
gunda expedicion por tierra a la Nueva California, ocupacion y poblacion de
San Francisco, 1777, No. 1. Ileal drden mandando forinar niievo reglaniento
para San Bias y Calif ornias, 1777, No. 2. Instruccion dada al comandante
de los nuevos establecimientos de Californias hasta 1775, No. 4. Diario de
Martinez y Pantoja y jSIeneses remitidos por Don Ignacio Arteaga siendo el
punto de partida San Bias y el de termino San Diego, 1782, No. 7. Diario
de navegacion que acaba de hacer el Paquebot de S. M. el Principe al puerto
de Monterey al cargo de su Capitan y Pdoto Don Jose Caiiizares, 1774, No.

8. Diario de navegacion de D. Jose Caiiizares, segundo Capitan y Piloto del
Paquebot de S. M. San Carlos, el cual sale a hacer viage a los puertos de
^Monterey y San Diego en la costa Occidental de la California al mando del
capitan y piloto D. Miguel del Pino llevando en conserva al paquebot de S.
!M. San Antonio (alias) el Principe bajo del comando del alferez de Fragata
y primer piloto de dicho buque D. Juan Perez, 1782, No. 9. Diario de nave-
gacion del alferez de fragata D. Esteban Jose Martinez, 1783, No. 9, coman-
dando el paquebot de S. M. San Carlos (A) el Philipino y la fragata Nuestra
Senora de los Remedios (A) Favorita del mando del segundo piloto D. Juan
Bautista de Aguirre a los nuevos establecimientos de San Francisco, Monte-
rey, Ensenada del Principe en el canal de Santa Barbara y San Diego, No.

9. Diario de viages a la costa Septentrional de California, 1782, No. 10.
Diario de navegacion del segundo piloto Juan de Pantoja y Arriaga, 1782, de
San Bias a San Diego. Piano 1, Ensenada de la Purisima Concepcion; 2,
Ensenada Mescaltitan; 3, Ensenada del Principe; 4, Pequeiia carta que con-
tiene el canal de Santa Barbara en la costa Septentrional de California;
5, Puerto de San Diego, No. 12. Salida del puerto de San Diego para el de
San Bias, No. 12. Diario de navegacion de Don Esteban Jose Martinez,
primer piloto de la Real Armada y capitan de la fragata de S. M. nombrada
Nuestra Senora del Rosario (a) la Princesa, de San Bias ^ los puertos de San
Francisco, canal de Santa Barbara, y puerto de San Diego, 1782, No. 13.
Tomo XXXVI., Descubrimiento del para j e nombradoViriadoco en Calif ornias
y fundacion de cinco misiones por los padres Dominicos, 1777, Nos. 4 y 13.
Se vuelve a poblar el presidio de Loreto y se ordena que las misiones del
mismo presidio se reduzcan a pueblos, 1777, No. 5. Reglaniento provisional
para las atenciones de San Bias y Californias, 1780. Tomo XXXIX., Se re-
miten a la comandancia general diarios y mapas de exploraciones. No. 28.
Tomo XLL, Remision de expdsitos a California, 1799, No. 3. TomoXLIV.,
Traslacion de la mision de San Francisco y extincion de la de Santa Cruz,
1823, No. 8. Tomo XLVL, Monterey, presidio, incendio de la mayor parte
de el 1789, No. 2. Tomo XLVII., Navegacion hecba por el alferez de navio
comandante de la Princesa desde el puerto de Manila a las Islas Filipinas,
cabo de San Lucas en Californias 1783, No. 1. Diario de navegacion de Don
Jose Antonio Vazquez, primer piloto de Manila a las islas Filipinas y a las
costas de Nueva Espafia, 1780, No. 2. Esplanadas, Guardia, y Casa Mata de
Monterey, cuenta de su costo, 1792, No. 5. Piano del puerto de San Fran-
cisco por D. Jose Joaquin de Arteaga aiio de 1792, No. 8. Diario de nave-
gacion del alferez de fragata y primer piloto D. Jose Camacho desde el puerto
de San Bias al Callao de Lima en la fragata Nuestra Senora de los Remedios (a)
Favorita, 1781, No. 9. Tomo XLVIIL, Estragos causados en el presidio de
San Francisco por los temporales de los dias 13 y 18 de Enero, 1804, No. 3.
Nuevo establecimiento de un ranclio de ganado menor en el presidio de San
Francisco por cuenta de la Real Hacienda, 1797, No. 12. Tomo XLIX.,
Pobladores voluntaries para la Villa de Branciforte Jose Timoteo Vasquez y
otros; Pensamiento del Gobierno de la antigua California de trasladar a San
Quintin el apostadero de San Bias, 1803, No. 2. Informes de los Religiosos
de San Fernando sobre poblacion y aumento de la peninsula de California,
1796, No. 4.

Mexico, Nov. 10 de 1883.

QUEER PLACES. 747

The municipal archives, or the archives of the dis-
trict of Mexico, Juan Yndico keeper, consists of city
documents accumulated during the past 200 years.
The greater portion of what existed prior to 1692
was at that time burned.

A day or two after my arrival in the capital, I
stumbled into a queer place, which threw me back in
imagination three hundred years or so, about as
effectually as the actually occurrence would have done.
Everything was apparently in the last stages of de-
cay, books, building, street, and people. It was
called the Biblioteca Popular del 5 de Mayo. The
building was a very old church, around the sides of
which were rude shelves filled mostly with old parch-
ment bound folios, made by foolish priests, and not
worth five dollars a ton for any practical use. On
the floor were placed rows of tables, seated at which
were representatives of the meagre middle class, en-
gaged for the most part in reading newspapers.
Doubtless the folios of the priests, which had been
flung out of churches and convents, added greatly to
the interest of the newspapers, and facilitated the ac-
quisition of knowledge in so far as it can be absorbed
from such surroundings. But before these aspirants
for republican glory load up the intellect much more
heavily, I would recommend them to put some
stronger boards in the floor, lest they fall through.
The edifice was erected in 1687, and of the 8,000
books probably 80 are worth shelf room.

Among other libraries of historic interest, I may
mention l^hose of Basalio Perez, Agreda, and San
Ildefonso, the last named formerly the collection of
the cathedral.

The public library of Toluca, comprising some
8,000 volumes, is prolific in chronicles of the old
convents. Indeed, Mexico has many libraries con-
taining important historic data, notwithstanding the
chaff the monks imbedded it in. In this sense there
are many rare and valuable books throughout the

748 EXPEDITIONS TO MEXICO.

republic; but of the class commonly called rare by
collectors and bibliographers, valuable only as speci-
mens of early printing, most of these have been car-
ried away. Senor Olaguibel printed a book entitled
Impresiones Celebres y Lihros Raws. In it is a chapter
devoted to rare books in Mexico, which indeed says
little except that there are no rare books in Mexico.
We are soberly told, however, that some one has re-
printed the life of Junipero Serra, which is the foun-
dation of California history !

In the beautiful and very religious city of Puebla
is the Colegio de Estado, with a library of 20,000
volumes, the institution having the usual departments
of natural history, chemistry, Latin, Greek, etc.
The buildings, formerly a convent, are antique and
cover a large area, having among other attractions a
well shaded and watered garden, with fountains and
gold fish. Here are 200 students, male; the place
could easily accommodate a thousand.

Another large building in another part of the city
is called the school of medicine, in which is a general
library of 26,000 volumes, but containing, as most of
them do, more theology than anything else.

On a cool, dry, December evening, as the sun was
sinking behind the skirts of Popocatepetl, I found
myself standing upon the summit of the hill of Cho-
lula, amidst the porcelain-planted graves, drooping
pines, and stunted rose-bushes, in front of the church
with its dilapidated wall and large open reservoir. It
is a rugged, uneven elevation, rising solitary some
two hundred feet above the plain, and is evidently
partly the work of nature and partly of man. The
winding roadway, half of it paved smooth with stones
and half in form of broad steps, is bordered by thrifty
grass, which also crops forth upon little benches, and
the thick shrubbery that covers the hillside is freely
sprinkled with the cactus and pepper-tree. Popoca-
tepetl, or Smoking Mountain, rises before me, and next
to it the scarcely less imposing peak of Iztaccihuatl,

THE HILL OF CHOLULA. 74^

The White Woman, she of the recumbent figure ;
while in the opposite direction, over the ghtterin^r
domes of distant Puebla, stands Orizaba, also white"^
crested, and winged by fleecy clouds.

At my feet lies the town of Cholula, with its long-
lines of intersecting ditches, as Corte's first saw theni^
marking the divisions of cornfields, and garden-patches
lined with maguey. It is a miserable place, made up
of hovels, churches, and cornfields, one view of which
tells the story of life here — how the poor, in the
small uncomfortable houses, pinch themselves to
sustain a costly service in the great temples, and add
to their splendor. If I mistake not, God would be
better pleased with smaller churches, fewer priests,
and larger and more comfortable dwellings for his
people.

The whole of this immense and rich valley, alter-
nately the prey of contending armies since the advent
of Cortes, and now for the first time learning the arts
of peace, is greatly given to religion, as it used to be
even in the remote times of Toltec sway, . when pil-
grims flocked from afar to the shrine of the Feathered
Serpent. Casting my eyes around over one of the
most beautiful scenes in Mexico, I count two score
villages marked by the tall, Avhite towers of thrice as
many churches ; some indeed being nothing more than
hamlets with half a dozen dingy little houses cringing
beside a great dingy church, some sheltered by trees
and shrubbery, others standing solitary in the open
plain.

I thought Puebla had houses of worship enough
for all, with her sixty or seventy temples of every
imaginable style, high-domed and broad-spreading
edifices, about one for every thousand of the half-
naked and barefooted natives who are called upon to
support them and their three hundred priests. The
state prison is part church ; in the house of maternity
is a church; the state college was once a convent
forming part of a church edifice ; and the cathedral,

750 EXPEDITIONS TO MEXICO.

though smaller than the one m Mexico, accounted
richer within.

But for all this, famous, squalid little Cholula, ac-
cording to the population, outdoes Puebla. There is
the little church with its two towers and large bells
on the historic hill, rusty without, but elaborately
gilded within, and the large church amidst the houses
below, near where the worshippers congregate to see
the bull-fight after service, and one to the right and
another to the left, and half a dozen more on every
side, the ^simultaneous ringing of whose bells at the
hour of blazing, tropical afterglow might lead one to
suppose the world to be on fire. This must indeed
have been a foul spot of Satan's to require such long
and elaborate cleansing ; for hereabout once stood no
less than four hundred heathen temples ; but I would
rather see restored and preserved some of those
architectural monuments, albeit in good truth tem-
ples of Satan, which capped this pyramid in aboriginal
times, than a thousand of the earth-bestrewed edifices
reared to his confounding at the cost of pinched
toilers.

As I thus stood, I fancied I could see marching
through the same long white, radiating streets
the ancient processions with their dismal chant and
clang of instruments, coming hither from all direc-
tions to the sacrifice. I fancied I could see the
bodies of the victims tumbled over the steeps as
the blood-besmeared priests held aloft the palpitating
heart, while all the people raised their voices in loud
hosannas. And I could easily imagine the good god
Quetzalcoatl here taking leave of his people, even as
did Christ, promising meantime to return with new
and celestial benefits.

In the Puebla state library, before mentioned, is a
volume of original letters of Morelos, and several
other volumes of valuable documents relating to the
days of independence, 1810-21. General documents
run from 1764 to 1858. There are two volumes of

RESULTS. 751

royal cedulas 1527 to 1818; also two volumes of
papers relating to the trial of the priest Mier, who
preached against the Guadalupe virgin.

There is a worm in Mexico that bores its hole
straight through the volume, going through a dozen
books standing on the shelf without deviation ; there
is another that takes a zig-zag course, one worm con-
fining its operations chiefly to one volume. On some
of my purchases I found a thing the Mexicans call a
gorgojo, which descends into books perpendicularly;
death was too mild a fate for such investigators.

All the while I was in Mexico I gathered books,
took dictations, and wrote down my thoughts and ob-
servations. With some difliculty I succeeded in ob-
taining enough of the leading journals published in
Mexico since 1800 to make a continuous file of the
events of the day from the opening of the century to
the present time. These series of newspapers, each
taking up the thread where in another it was broken
off, proved of the greatest advantage to my work.

This expedition added to my library some 8,000
volumes. Three years later I made a second trip to
Mexico, chiefly to verify certain statements and add
a few points prior to closing the last volume of my
History of Mexico. The railway being completed, the
journey was nothing; and being brief and without
special significance, I will inflict no further detail on
the reader.

CHAPTER XXIX.

TOWARD THE END.

Careless of censure, nor too fond of fame;
Still pleased to praise, yet not afraid to blame ;
Averse alike to flatter, or offend;
Not free from faults, nor yet too vain to mend.

Pope.

I had hoped to close my library to general work,
and dismiss my assistants by January 1, 1887. I
had yet several years of work to do myself, in any
event, but I thought if I could get rid of the heavy
library outlay of one or two thousand dollars a
month, I should feel more inclined to take life easier,
with less nervous haste and strain in my work.

Several causes combined to prevent this. As is
usually the case, the completion of my history con-
sumed more time than I had anticipated, the neces-
sary rewriting and revision, not to mention numberless
delays growing out of the cares and vicissitudes of
business, being beyond calculation. The truth is, in
looking back upon my life and its labors, I cannot but
feel that I never have had a full and fair opportunity
to do my best, to do as good work as I am capable of
doing, certainly not as finished work as I might do
with less of it and more time to devote to it, with
fewer cares, fewer interruptions. I have often won-
dered what I might do were I not forced to *' write
history on horseback," as General Vallejo terms it.
On the other hand, I have had much to be thank-
ful for, and can only submit my work to the world
for what it is worth. Again, it was found to be an
absolute necessity for the proper completion of my
historical series to provide a place for the many biog-

(752)

♦CHRONICLES OF THE BUILDERS.' 753

raphies of important personages, to which I have
elsewhere alluded.

Notwithstanding all that I had thus far done, there
was yet this one thing lacking to make ray work all
that it should be. As the end of my labors was
drawing near, and I was looking forward to a period
of cessation, this thought forced "itself more and more
upon my mind, giving me no rest. I did not desire
to do more. Some thought the histories already too
extended, not fully realizing the time and territory
covered. If they will consider each work separately,
they will at once see that this is not the case. Five
volumes devoted to hundreds of Native Kaces inhab-
iting one twelfth of the earth's surface, or three vol-
umes on the five repubhcs of Central America for a
period of nearly four centuries, surely are not too
many in which to do the subject justice. And so
with the rest. The great trouble was to condense
without injury to the work.

During all my historical labors, particularly toward
the latter part of the term, the necessity was more
and more forced upon my mind, of some method
whereby the men who had made this country what
it is should receive fuller treatment.

The development and conditions here were pecu-
liar, and in their historical elucidation must be met in
the plainest, most practical, and fitting way. Within
the present half century a vast wilderness had been
transformed into fields of the foremost civilization, by
men many of whom were yet living. No such achieve-
ment since the world began had ever been done within
so short a time; obviously none such could ever be
done again, the engendering conditions not being
present. Thousands of years were occupied in build-
ing Greece and Rome, and other thousands in car-
rying civilization to Germany and England; and all
midst fanatical wars and horrible human butcheries
such as should put to blush the face of man.

Amono- the various nations and at various epochs

Lit. Ind. 48

754 TOWARD THE END.

great men were evolved from the fierce frictions of
the times, soldiers, priests, and princes, some of them
conspicuous because of their good deeds, but more of
them by reason of their wickedness. Evil, in fact,
was apparently a more powerful factor than good in
all these kneadings and seasonings and polishing of
mankind. But in the development of our own thrice-
favored land, this westernmost America, there was
little else than good accomplished, and by good men.
There were no wars, except the war of mind over
matter, of civilization over savagismi. There was no
physical bondage or intellectual coercion. Yet, turn-
ing to our towns and cities, our fruitful fields and or-
chards and gardens, with their thousands of happy
homes; our railways, irrigating canals; our mines,
manufactures, and commerce; our government and
our social condition, we find accomplished within
fifty years what elsewhere has taken other people
five, ten, or a hundred times as long to do.

True, we had a record of their experiences as a
foundation upon which to build our new experiences
in this fair wilderness; otherwise it could not have
been done. But for all that it was a great and good
thing to build here as we have built, thus making
proper avail of our high privileges. And are not the
men who have quietly and patiently wrought out this
grand accomplishment, each laboring after his own
fashion and for his own immediate purposes — are
they not as much entitled to prominence and praise
as Alexander or Napoleon ? Is it not as interesting
to us, the study of their characters? Is it not as
profitable for us to follow them in their good deeds
as to follow the others in their good and evil deeds ?

It was therefore deemed absolutely essential, before
it could be said that a proper historical presentation of
the country and those who had made it, of the empire
and builders of empire, had been made, that the his-
tory have a biographical section, devoted primarily to
the men as the historical section proper is devoted

* CHRONICLES OF THE BUILDERS.' 755

primarily to the events. For it is as impossible to
stop the natural and proper flow of the narrative of
events with a too^ lengthy and elaborate analysis
of character, as it is to break into an entertaining
and instructive biography Avith a too lengthy narra-
tive of events.

At the same time, here was an opportunity to do
much better than simply to present a collection of
detached biographies of the most influential and
prominent personages after the usual form, howso-
ever good and valuable such a work would be in con-
nection with the history. But what would make it
tenfold more interesting and valuable would be to
take one each of the more important of these men of
streno^th and influence, and after a thorougfh charac-
ter study, place his portrait in artistic form and
colors in the midst of the work which he has done,
and in company with kindred industries accomplished
by others, and round the whole throw a frame- work of
history. Here, then, are embalmed in the annals of
his own time and country the man and his deeds,
there to remain, the benefits and blessings conferred
during life thus being made perpetual.

In the text and foot-notes of the history proper I
had interwoven much material of a biographical nature
— all that the narrative could carry w^ithout being
made to suffer thereby. But this was not enough.
The work which had been performed in the subjuga-
tion of this western wilderness was not that of any
potentate or general ; it was not a conquest or a colon-
ization. This last and fairest piece of temperate zone,
unoccupied by civilization, had seemingly been kept
back for a special purpose of progress. Then, when
all w^as ready, the great bells of time were sounded,
and from every quarter of the world intelligent and
energetic young men came flocking in — the cry of
gold'Vas rung out, the cry of American occupation
and intercommunication; and after some wild doings
incident to such an unprecedented huddling of hu-

756 TOWARD THE END.

manity, this land of hitherto poor, brutish men and
ferocious beasts found itself blooming serenely un-
der a new influence. Of the vast army who came
hither for gold many returned, and many, alas I laid
down their lives in the struggle. But some perse-
vered in their efforts and prospered, success coming out
of great tribulation. Others came later and accom-
plished great things. Meanwhile all were gaining
experience, and constantly adding to their store of
practical knowledge. It was in this way that devel-
opment over this vast area came so rapidly about. It
was owing primarily to the original and ever-growing
intelligence of certain individuals, one working here,
one there, until the whole ground was covered, and
each locality made to yield up some portion of its
natural wealth, while the arts and sciences of older
communities were applied toward increasing the pos-
sibilities of primeval nature.

Now, it seemed not exactly right or proper, in a
history of this country giving the full details of in-
dustrial and social development, to allow the events
to render subordinate to so large an extent the men
who had made the events. Had some Caesar or
Scipio crossed the Rocky mountains with an arm^',
taken possession of this land, and planted here the
institutions of foreign culture, as a matter of course
a history of this country would have dealt largely in
the characteristics and doings of those men, military
and civil. The fact that in the subjugation of this
country there were engaged not one Caesar or Scipio,
but several, and that their work was in building up
rather than tearing down, makes certainly not less
interesting or important a chronicle of the characteris-
tics and doino^s of these builders of the commonwealth.

The importance of biography is not everywhere
fully appreciated. Every man of strength or influ-
ence in the community should have prepared during
his lifetime his biography, for the benefit of those
now livinof, and of those who shall come after him.

'CHRONICLES OF THE BUILDERS.' 757

Tlie man of energy and ability is a factor in the
affairs of his country. No one can achieve high and
permanent success without benefiting others. Upon
the events and actuahties which surround the indi-
vidual, and which he himself has made, he leaves his
impress, which is his life, his true being, the crystal-
lization of his thoughts, the material expression of his
feelingrs. Whether he be livino- or dead, there is the
man in the spot where he lived and moved, and where
he left himself, his true and material existence, when
the immaterial took its departure. He moy soon be
forgotten, and his place filled by others, but his suc-
cessors, whether they know it or not, are continuing
the work which he began, and building on the founda-
tion which he had laid. A record of personal experi-
ences is of importance to the country as showing by
what means the man has accomplished certain results,
thus enabling others to do likewise or better. "A
noble life put fairly on record acts like an inspiration
to others," says Samuel Smiles. And again, ''The
great lesson of biography is to show what a man can
do and be at his best"; while Beecher would have
biography called the home aspect of history.

After securing all the comforts and luxuries of life
for himself and his family, for what does a man fur-
ther labor ? If of a miserly disposition, he works for
the mere pleasure of accumulating money. ^ But if
intelligent and public-spirited, he continues his labors
for their general beneficial effects, and for the interest
and pride he takes in them. Now, it is evident that
if these beneficial eflfects of a man's life can be doubled
or trebled, can indeed be rendered perpetual, nothing
can be of more transcendent importance than to have
it done. This can be done only by writing out the
acts and experiences of a man's life in the form of a
biography, and placing that biography in history.

The advantages of history are manifold and obvious.
Without the recorded experiences of the race there
could be no accumulation of knowledge ; without a

758 TOWARD THE END.

knowledge of the past there could be no miprovement
in the future. So with biography, which is but a part
of history. With a knowledge of the means by which
men become great and prosperous we may learn to
adopt their virtues and avoid their errors. There-
fore, not only should every man who has helped to
make history have his biography fully and carefully
prepared, but it should be placed in history. The
next question is, who has helped to make history?
Every man of intelligence, wealth, and influence as-
sists in making history in a greater or less degree,
according to what he accomplishes. He cannot help
doing this, for history is the record of what men do.
Nor can it be delayed until we have passed away,
for other reasons. No one can call up the facts and
intuitions of his life, the theory and practice of his
achievements, so well as the man himself; no one can
arrange those facts, analyze the intuitions, elucidate
the benefits of what has been accomplished, and weave
the whole into an instructive and entertaining narra-
tive, except a writer possessed of ability, enthusiasm,
and experience. And granting that the most proper
place for the preservation of such a record is upon
the pages of history, the history of the place and times
during which the w^ork was done, it cannot be de-
layed on that account, for the pages of the only his-
tory upon which it could be placed in a proper manner
will then be closed.

The reasons, then, why the lives and experiences
of certain men should be embalmed in history are:
First, for the benefit of the community and the world.
Without a preserved record of human actions there can
be no progress, no civilization. Second, as a matter
of duty to one's family. In the building up of this
country each important personage has performed a
great work, not a tenth part of which, in significance
and extent, will ever otherwise be known to his de-
scendants, who will thereby be deprived of some
portion of that honest pride, high stimulant, and

'CHRONICLES OF THE BUILDERS.' 759

bright example which is their most valued heritage.
Third, it is a duty a man owes to himself. All his
life he has been working for a purpose, and if when
it is accomplished he permits to die the ways and
means by which he attained important results, half
his life, to say the least, is lost. The wealth one has
acquired is not all nor the most important part of
life's work, but the abilities exercised, the lessons
acquired, and the nobleness of soul which has been
elevated and strengthened.

During the earlier part of the long period the his-
tory was going into type, the movements of the family
were regulated to a great extent by my youngest boy,
Philip. Being naturally not very strong, and the
penetrating w^inds driving him from San Francisco,
we would visit the several springs and health districts
of the coast as fancy or interest dictated, never being
wholly out of reach of the printer.

I had long had in view a visit to Salt Lake City
and the Colorado region, so that when, in August
1884, the boy began to cough in accents so familiar
that there was no mistaking their significance, we
picked him up — his mother and I — and planted our-
selves with the whole family at the Continental hotel
in the city of the saints, there remaining for six weeks.

There was much feeling existing at the time between
the Mormons and the gentiles, the government being
apparently in earnest in putting down polygamy,^ while
the Mormons were just as determined to maintain the
institution or die in the attempt. It was just upon
the border, in point of time, of the^ long season of
prosecution and persecution, of litigations and impris-
onments which has not a parallel in the history of
American morals.

We were not there, however, to take part in any
controversy, to enter the fight either on the side of
Christ or Belial ; we had come simply to gather facts
observe, study, and meditate upon the strange social

760 TOWARD THE END.

problem. I should probably have known long ere
this how to answer the question, What is Mormonism ?
but I did not. Nor would there be entire unanimity
among divines in answering the questions, What is
Methodism ? or Mohannncdism ? Very shallow ideas
the world has in relation to the dogmas it fights and
bleeds for, on one side or the other. There was fight-
ing enough for dogmas in Salt Lake City in the year
1884. There were few like Christ, few to love their
enemies, or turn the other cheek when one was
smitten.

We saw much of the leaders on both sides, were
entertained by gentiles and Mormons, and entertained
them in return ; we listened attentively, but said little ;
it was no wonder, therefore, that we were regarded
somewhat suspiciously by both sides. All this was of
small consequence, however, beside the accomplish-
ment of our mission, which was fully done in every
particular. There was little the Mormons would not
do for us ; there was little we desired at the hands of
the gentiles.

Notwithstanding the large mass of material, printed
matter, manuscripts, journals, dictations, and special
investigations which had been sent to me, there were
still gaps in my work that I wanted filled. John
Taylor, who was present and severely wounded at the
assassination of Joseph Smith, was at this time presi-
dent of the church, and Wilford Woodruff, one of the
twelve apostles and possible successor of Taylor, had
charge of the historian's office.

For these people had had a historian's office and an
historian from near the beofinnincr of their existence as
a religious sect. The acts of the apostles, and the do-
ings of president and people from the beginning, had
been minutely written down and preserved. And, in-
deed, far back of the history of their present organi-
zation they went — back to babel and the origin of
things. The book of Mormon comprises largely their
history, as the bible is the history of the Jews. Some

UTAH AND COLORADO. 761

of the babel-builders, after the grand scattering, found
their way to America, and were the aborigines of this
continent, among whom long lay hidden the metal
plates eventually found by Joseph Smith.

Mr Woodruff had an elaborately written journal in
some twenty manuscript volumes, if I remember
riglitly, giving a history of the church and the doings
of its members from the days of Nauvoo to date.
Never before had such work been done for any peo-
ple, not even the children of Israel; for there was
not one important incident or individual herein
omitted. Mr Woodruff and Mr Eichards gave up
most of their time to me during this visit. Besides
my labors with them, I took many lengthy dictations
from others. I met frequently George Q. Cannon,
first counsellor; Joseph F. Smith, nephew of Joseph
Smith; Brigham Young, eldest son of the second
president; Moses Thatcher, W. B. Preston, William
Jennings, Feramorz Little, Heber J. Grant, H. S.
Eldridge, Erastus Snow, C. W. Penrose, John R.
Park, and a hundred others.

While I was laborously engaged in this office dur-
ing most of my time in Salt Lake City, Mrs Ban-
croft saw many of the Mormon women, making their
acquaintance, winning their friendship, and taking
dictations from them. Polygamy with them was a
sacred institution, a state not to be lightly entered,
but only after due preparation, prayer, and holy liv-
ing; a cross, perhaps, but one which only the blessed
mu>'ht bear. Hovering in space all round the revolv-
ing earth were myriads of disembodied spirits, tor
whom it pleased God that men should manufacture
flesh Nor with the men was polygamy the product
of sensuality; your true sensualist will have many
women but no wife. .

From Utah we went to Colorado, stoppmg at
Canon City, LeadviUe, Pueblo, Colorado Spnngs, and
other points of historic interest and importance^ ^ We
were everywhere received with the utmost cordiality.

762 TOWARD THE END.

It would be difficult to find anywhere pleasanter peo-
ple, or a more intelligent or refined society than at
Denver. I shall never forget the kindness of Doctor
Bancroft, governors Pitkin, Grant, and Routt, and
judges Stone, Bennett, Beck, and Helm.

Colorado was at this time in a very prosperous con-
dition, and the people were justly proud of their state,
of its history, its resources, and its possibilities. By
supplying myself pretty freely with help in the form
of stenographers and statisticians, I secured the ex-
periences of several hundred of those who had had
the most to do in making the early history of this
region. Among the manuscripts thus resulting was
one which must ever constitute the corner-stones of
Colorado history. Nearly two months were occupied
in writing it, and the work on it was done in this way:
Taking a full file of the Rocky Mountain News, the
first journal published in the country and still running,
I sat down before it with a stenographer and its first
editor, who, while I questioned and commented, told
the history of the state, turning over the leaves of the
newspaper to refresh his memory, and give him the
desired information.

Judge Stone's ideas and experiences form a very
interesting historical manuscript. He assured me
that the topography of Colorado was in his mind's
eye as clear as if seen at one view from the corner of
a cloud ; and I found his knowledge of political and
commercial affairs, and the resources and industries
of the state no less lucid and interesting.

While my family were at Denver, enjoying the
generous hospitality of the good people of the place, I
spent a fortnight at Cheyenne, going through files of
newspapers, and writing out the experiences of the
prominent men. In this and subsequent labors in re-
lation to the history of Wyoming I was greatly
assisted by John Slaughter, territorial librarian, A.
S. Mercer, of the Live Stock Journal, John W. Hoyt,
J. M. Carey, J. R Whitehead, F. J. Stanton, E. S.

WYOMING AND NEW MEXICO. 763

N. Morgan territorial secretary, A. T. Babbitt, Thos.
Sturgis, W. W. Corlett, and others. Then at
Laramie were S. W. Downey and T. H. Hayford ;
at Lander, N. Baldwin and H. G. Nickerson ; not to
mention the commanding officers of the military at
forts Russell, Steele, Laramie, McKinney, and
Bridger.

Part of the winter of 1884-5 I spent in New
Mexico, where I had interviews with most of the
leading men, and obtained a large mass of material
which was an absolute necessity to my work. At
Santa Fe I examined the archives thoroughly, and
engaged Samuel Ellison, the keeper, to go through
them and make extracts from some, and complete
copies of all of the important papers and manuscripts.
After a time, however, finding the task too slow and
irksome for him, being an old man and somewhat
averse to labor, he finally consented, contrary to the
regulations, but greatly to my satisfaction, to send to
me in San Francisco in bundles, by express, a portion
at a time, of such material that I wanted copied, that
I might have the work done in my library.

I cannot refrain from mentioning, among those who
rendered me valuable assistance at Santa Fe, the
names of C. B. Hayward, W. G. Ritch, Francis
Downs, Archbishop Lamy, Defouri, Prince, Thayer,
Fiske, Phillips, and the Chaves; at Albuquerque and
Taos, the Armijos and the Valdez; and at Las
Cruces, CunnifFe and Van Patten.

I cannot mention in this volume a hundredth part
of the journeys made, the people seen, and the work
done in connection with the labors of over a quarter
of a century, collecting material and writing history,
but enough has been presented to give the reader
some faint conception of the time, labor, and money
necessary for such an historical undertaking.

Referrincr once more to my method of writing his-

764 TOWARD THE END.

tory, which originated wholly with me, and grew out
of the necessities of the case, I would remark on the
general shyness of the wise men of the east at first
to see any good in it, or ever admit that work so done
could properly be placed in the category of history ;
then, finally, to see them come round, and not only
acknowledgce its advantagres, and assert that it was
the only feasible way to accomplish certain results,
but to adopt the system themselves, apply it to im-
portant work, and give it out as of their own invention,
or at least to take good care not to give the credit
where it properly belonged.

The men of Harvard particularly, always slow to
acknowledge the existence of any good thing outside
of their own coterie, least of all to admit that a San
Francisco bookseller could teach them how to write
history, were puzzled how they might sometime apply
this system to important work and send it forth as
their own. They did it cleverly enough, for them,
when the occasion arose, but they did not deceive
many. They were obliged to modify my method
somewhat, thereby almost spoiling it; for they were
not prepared to spend the necessary time and money
to give ten or twenty assistants ten or twenty years
schooling. So they adopted a middle course, which
was neither one thing nor the other, neither the old-
fashioned individual way, where no work of any kind
is admitted unless performed by the historian in per-
son, thereby reducing the possibilities of his perform-
ance to a minimum, nor the modern scientific method,
as the Sacremento Record- Union at once pronounced it,
where the assistance of others is utilized to a com-
mon-sense extent.

Some ten years after the publication of my Native
Races, began to appear in Boston what the prospectus
called "History by a new method." With two ex-
ceptions the opening line of the prospectus might be
accepted; it was not history, nor was the method
new. It was by Justin Winsor, of the Harvard univer-

HARVARD HYPOCRISY. 765

sity library, and was called Narrative and Critical
History of Ar)ierica.

Great stress is placed upon the method, which is
called the ''cooperative." That is to say, one man
acting as editor, gives to twenty or fifty men each a
topic on American history for him to write up, the
intention being that all the topics given out shall be
made to cover the entire range of American history.
As these monographs are finished and handed in they
are printed, each under the name of the writer, and
sent forth in volumes which are dignified by the name
of history.

"The magnitude of the undertaking," the pros-
pectus goes on to say, ''the dignity of the subject,
and the acknowledged ability of the writers employed,
give the work a strong claim upon public attention ;
yet, without undervaluing these considerations, it will
be found that they are overshadowed by the surpass-
ing value of the method employed in its construction.
The inductive method of Bacon, and the comparative
method in the applied sciences, are examples of pos-
sibilities contained in a true method; they have revo-
lutionized modern civilization. It is claimed for this
work that it embodies a true method for historical in-
vestigation,which must prove far-reaching in its results.
.... Adherence to this method of investigation will
gradually tend to bring history into line with the
sciences, instead of leaving it as a* subject for debate
among rival historians. We shall have less of spec-
ulation and theory, and more of verifiable facts. The
temptation to warp the truth will be lessened by in-
creased danger of detection. The practical value of
this is apparent, when we consider how often our
course is determined by precedent. When the supe-
riority of the cooperative method is fully understood,
the individual historian, if he ventures forth at all,
will be read for entertainment rather than profit."

Again: "The great advantage of this method in
historical research must be apparent. The outcome

766 TOWARD THE END.

of conflicting statements when they are brought to-
gether, analyzed, and compared, must be a closer ap-
proach to the truth. History as heretofore written
has failed to accomplish these results, for two reasons:
First, tlie labor and special knowledge required to
secure all relevant evidence have been beyond the
powers of any individual however able. The coopera-
tion of specialists is needed for this work just as in
the writing of a cyclopedia. The subject covers too
much ground for the researches of a single individual.
To fully possess the field an army must be organized
and act under competent leadership. The day is not
far distant when the attempt to write a history or a
cyclopedia single-handed will be regarded as equally
futile. Individuals may philosophize on history in
the future as they have in the past with excellent
results, but the presentation of the facts, with a
complete analysis and digest of the evidence collected,
must be made by the cooperation of many minds.
Second, in attempting to deduce correct conclusions,
the individual can only report an event as it appears
to him from his point of observation. In other
words, he can give but a one-sided, partial view of the
matter. A synthesis of opinion is what is needed to
secure a complete presentation of the case. Therefore
many witnesses must be summoned to testify in-
dependently, and this is manifestly impossible under
the old method, where the reader is not permitted to
judge of the relative merits of conflicting statements,
upon which the writer bases his views, but must
accept or reject as a whole his author's dictum."

This is indeed high praise of my method coming from
such a source, and all the more sigrnificant not beinor
intended, — all the more significant in coming from a
quarter where this kind of work was not long since
ridiculed as ''machine-made history," and from those
who were endeavoring to secure to themselves the
credit justly belonging to another. True, they claim
that by permitting the several writers to speak for

COOPERATIVE HISTORY-WRITING. 767

themselves and independently, instead of having their
work recast and made symmetrical by one master
mind, that they have invented a new system ; but it
is the same system as my own, though on a some-
what different plan, in my opinion not nearly so good
a one, and one that will not produce the same results.
But the strangest part of it all to me is, that men
who can expatiate so well and so learnedly on the
benefits of this system, should understand it so little
as not to know when they themselves were or were
not applying it. They speak of the advantages of
what they kindly call the cooperative method. But
surely any one can see that there is no cooperation in
their work. Each one working alone, in his own
closet, after his own fashion, presents in his own way
and words, his ideas of some previously selected topic
or episode of American history ; and because these
several essays are printed in one volume, or series of
volumes bearing a common title, the labor is called
cooperative, each laborer seeming to think that while
working entirely alone, he has been greatly assisted
by the" others, likewise working alone, and that the
general work is greatly benefited thereby.

Cooperation, one would think it scarcely necessary
to say, is where all the workmen contribute of their
intelligence and skill to one grand result, not to a
series "^of results. An architect may build a house,
utilizing the labor of a hundred artisans, all cooperat-
ino- to one end ; it makes queer work of it when each
of'^the artisans constructs a section of a building after
his own fancy, expecting a symmetrical edifice to
come out of it. In historical efforts, as in any other
kind of labor, cooperation is where several persons
unite to labor as one man, for the accomplishment ot
a single work. Writing me September 21, 1886,
A W Tourgee says: "I tried to get an article mto
an eastern magazine, on Cooperative Historical Work
comparing vour system, which is homogeneous and
comprehensible, with Justm Wmsors hotch-pot,

768 TOWARD THE END.

every mouthful of which is a surprise, but which
leaves no uniformity of impression or coherence of
thought; but I found the idea was sacrilegious in
this latitude."

CHAPTEE XXX.

BURNED out:

Mercury. "What's best for us to do then to get safe across ?"
Charon. "I'll tell you. You must all strip before you get in, and leave
all those encumbrances on shore; and even then the boat will scarce hold
you all. And you take care, Mercury, that no soul is admitted that is not
in light marching order, and who has not left all his encumbrances, as I say,
behind. Just stand at the gang -way and overhaul them, and don't let them
get in till they've stripped." Lucian.

Here was a pretty how-do-you-do ! While I was
buying farms and building houses in San Diego, and
dreaming of a short period of repose on this earth
before being called upon to make once more an inte-
gral part of it, in the twinkling of an eye I was
struck down, as if by a thunderbolt from heaven.

For twenty years past I had been more than ordi-
narily interested in this southern extremity of the
state, with its soft sunshine and beautiful bay, the
only break in the California coast- line south of San
Francisco that could be properly called a harbor, and
I had chipped in from time to time a few thousands
for lots and blocks, until satisfied that I had enough,
when the great commercial metropolis of the south
should arise upon the spot, to ruin all my children.

Many times before this I had temporarily sought
shelter for myself and family from the cold winds and
fogs of San Francisco, often in the Napa country, and
many times in the Ojai valley, and elsewhere. Then
I wondered if there was not some place more accessi-
ble to my work, which would answer the purpose as
well.

Ever since 1856 I had been gazing on the high hills
back of Oakland and Berkeley, wondering what was
on the other side; and one day I said I will go and

Lit. Ind. 49. ^^^^^

770 BURNED OUT !

see. So I mounted a horse, and wound round by
San Pablo and throng] i the hills until I came to
Walnut creek, and beyond there to Ignacio valley,
near the base of Monte Diablo, where I bought land,
and planted it in trees and vines.

It was a broad and beautiful patch of earth, flat as
possible, and covered with large scattering oaks, look-
ing like many other parts of primeval California, only
that the trees were larger, indicating unusual depth
and strength of soil. The sun rises over the Devil's
mountain, and the cool southwest wind comes over
the high Oakland hills fresh from the ocean, the in-
frequent dry, hot, north winds alone taking advan-
tage of the open country toward Martinez. It went
against the grain to grub up the venerable oaks ; but
oak trees and fruit trees do not affiliate, and Bartlett
pears are better than acorns, so all were cleared away
except a group left for building sites and shelter of
stock.

For the most part it was a perfect climate, the heat
of summer seldom being enervating, and but little
frost in winter; but I was growing querulous over
Cahfornia airs, and said I wanted them quieter and
softer than those which followed me even here, car-
rying their thick fog-banks to the summit of the
highest westerly hills, and scattering them in finest
mists filled with sunshine over the valleys below. So
we took the train, my wife and I, and started south,
stopping at Pasadena, Riverside, and elsewhere, all
of which were too settled, too civilized for us. Then
we came to San Diego, native enough for any one,
the cobbley country around looking so dry and barren
and forbidding that a week of exploration in every
direction was passed, setting out from our hotel in
the early morning and driving till night before we
found a place in which were seemingly united all the
requisite possibilities. There we were satisfied to
rest, and then we made our purchase.

Spring valley it was called, from a large perpetual

THE HELIX FARMS. 771

spring nature had formed there; and it was the most
attractive of any spot within ten miles of the future me-
tropolis. The nominal proprietor Avas Captain E. K.
Porter, who wrote for the p.n.pers, drove two humhle
mustangs to town with eggs and butter, and was of
an easy and amiable disposition ; but the true owner
was his most excellent wife, under whose management
the farm and husband barely made ends meet.

El aguaje de San Jorge the place had been named
by the early Mexicans, and by the first Americans
the St George water-hole. In common with the
country thereabout it had been used as a sheep range,
the springs serving as a herding point and watering
place, an old Mexican camping there with his family.
The padres also here raised vegetables and fruit for tlie
mission. Not long after the year 1860 a San Diego
lawyer. Judge Ens worth, who was in ill health, ob-
tained a possessory claim, and spent a portion of his
time at this charming spot. He walled up the spa-
cious springs, and purchasing from Captain Bogert
a portion of the lately broken up coal ship, Clarissa
Andrews, with difficulty had it hauled over to the
ground, and used it in the erection of an adobe house.

Upon the death of Ens worth. Porter purchased the
place and moved his family there from San Pedro in
18G5. Around him subsequently settled Burbeck,
Campbell, and Crosby, from whom I purchased land,
which with the Porter place made up a tract of Hyo
hundred acres and more. The place I called the
Helix Farms, and entered in my book of life to spend
my latter days there. I then returned north.

Keep at hard work too long an old horse and he
becomes worthless, but if care be taken to^ lighten his
burdens as strength and endurance fail, he will
perform much good service during his latter days. I
was now reaching the period when I felt it absolutely
necessary to tur?i myself out to grass or succumb

entireiv

I was born on a -arm; my earliest recollections

772 BURNED OUT !

were of farm life ; my childhood home had been there,
and if there were any rest and recuperation for me on
earth I was sure it would be under like conditions.
My work was nearly done. I had no further desire
to mingle with the affairs of the world. I was con-
tent with what I had accomplished ; or at least all I
could do I had done, and I was sure that in no way
could I better become young again than in spending
much time with my little ones, in teaching them how
to work and be useful, as my devoted parents had
taught me.

It was on the 30th of April, 1886, that I was
standing on the steps of the Florence hotel, at San
Diego, when my wife drove up in her phaeton and
handed me a telegram. '^ They said it was impor-
tant," she remarked, and eyed me earnestly as I
opened and read it. "What is it?" she asked. ''Is
it bad?" "About as bad as can be," I replied. It
was from Mr N. J. Stone, manager of the History
department of the business, and it read, "Store burn-
ing. Little hope of saving it." Half an hour later
came another despatch, saying that nothing was saved
but the account books.

The full effect of this calamity flashed through my
brain on the instant : my beautiful building, its lofts
filled to overflowing with costly merchandise, all gone,
the results of thirty years of labor and economy, of
headaches and heart-aches, eaten up by fire in an
hour ! I say the full effect of it was upon me ; yet
the blow — though it felled me, seemed to strike softly,
as if coming from a gloved hand, I was so powerless
to oppose it. I continued the duties of the day
as usual. I was then building for my wife a summer
residence overlooking the charming bay; but many
days of sorrow and anguish were in store for me by
reason of this infernal fire.

In this same hotel, seven months before, I had read
of the Crocker fire, a similar catastrophe happening
to a house of like business to ours. And I then

WHOLESALE DESTRUCTIOK. 773

thought, "this might as well have been Bancroft,
but how difFerent the result to me and hundreds of
others." As La Eochefoucauld says: ''Nous avous
tous assez de force pour supporter les maux d'autrui."
We are all strong enough to endure the misfortunes
of others. And now it was indeed Bancroft, and all
their fine establishment, the largest and finest in
western America, swept away in the midst of a
desperate struggle to properly place my histories upon
the market. Twenty volumes had been issued, and
the firm was still $200,000 behind on the enterprise.
But it was gaining. Daylight shone as through a
tunnel in the distance ; the last month's business had
been the most encouraging of all; when suddenly,
office, stock, papers, correspondence, printing-presses,
type and plates, and the vast book-bindery, filled with
sheets and books in every stage of binding, were
blotted out, as if seized by Satan and hurled into the
jaws of hell. There was not a book left; there was
not a volume of history saved; nine volumes of
history plates were destroyed, besides a dozen other
volumes of plates ; two car loads of history paper had
just come in, and 12,000 bound volumes were de-
voured by the flames. There was the enterprise left,
and a dozen volumes of the history plates in the
library basement, and that was all.

The loss thus in a moment, of over half a million
of dollars, above all that any policies of insurance
would cover, was not the worst of it. Our facilities
for work were gone, machinery destroyed, and business
connections suddenlj^ snapped; at noon with one of
the largest stocks in America, at night with nothing
to sell ! I went down to the train, stowed myself away
in a sleeper, and came to San Francisco, knowing I
had to face the brunt of it, and endure the long-drawn
agony of the catastrophe. My daughter was with
me. Friends and sympathizers met me at Martinez.
It was Sunday when I arrived and went to my
city quarters. I kept my room until Tuesday;

774 BURNED OUT !

then pulled myself together and went down among
the boys, who, poor fellows, were ready to cry when
they saw me enter the miserable rooms on Geary
street, to which they had been forced to fly with their
books. I really felt more for them than for myself,
as many of them had been dependent on the business
for a livelihood for a quarter of a century, and they
had wives and little ones to feed. And my poor
wife I I felt for her, from whom I was forced to part
so abruptly. But most touching of all was the sym-
pathy of the children. Paul said, "Papa shall have
my chicken-money to help build his store," as he
turned his face from his mother to hide his tears.
At another tune, looking at a new shot-gun, he said,
/'I am glad we have that gun, for now papa will not
have to buy one." Little Philip would work all day
and all night, and another bantling persisted in going
about gathering nails in an old tin can for two days
for his father.

It is such testimonials as these that touch the
strong man to the quick, and not the formal letters
of sympathy and condolence that he gets.

It takes time to get accustomed to the new order
of things. I wander about the city and note the
many changes of late; I admire the new style of
architecture, and note the lavish expenditure of the
big bonanza men and others in the immediate vicinity
of my still smoking ruins, and I feel sad to think
that I have no longer a stake in this proud and
wealthy city. For my ground must go. It is heavily
mortgaged for money with which to print and pub-
lish my history. Seventeen years ago I gathered it
up piece by piece, as I could get it, and pay for it,
paying for one piece $6,000, and for the one of like
dimensions and equal value adjoining $12,000, thus
buying seven lots in order to make up one of the
size I wanted. And now it must all go into the
capacious maw of some one not foolish enough to
write and publish history.

A LIVING DEATH. 775

It makes one's heart sore thus to walk about old
familiar haunts and feel one's self a thing of the past.
Neither the streets nor the sunshine have the same
significance as formerly. They are not my streets ;
it is not my sunshine; I am an interloper here; I am
the ghost of a dead man stalking about the places
formerly frequented while living.

Death is nothing, however. Every silent stab of
the innumerable incidents that every day ari^e brings
its death pang. To die once is to get off cheaply ; to
die fifty times a day even, one may become somewhat
accustomed to, and so endure it without flinchhig.
But the Wife and little one's; ah! there's the rub;
all through my life of toil and self-abnegation ' I had
looked forward to the proud position in which I might
leave them, prouder by far than any secured by money
alone, for I miHit easier have made ten millions than
have collected this library and written this history.
I must come down in my pretensions, however, there
is no help for it.

For thirty years I have had a bookstore in this
town, and the first and finest one here, or within two
thousand miles of the place. Whenever I walked
the streets, or met an acquaintance, or wanted money,
or heard the bells ring for church, or drove into the
park, or drew to my breast my child; whenever I
went home at night, or down to business in the morn-
ing, or out to my library, or over to my farm, I had
this bookstore. And now I have it not. ^ I have
none. I never shall have one again. ^ It ^is I who
should have been destroyed, and not this hive of in-
dustry which provided food for five hundred mouths.

I drop into a system of rigid economy in personal
expenses, though I well know that the little I can
save in this way will make no difference. But there
must have been a comfort in stinting myself, and
making my body feel the pinchings of poverty that
my soul felt. . ,

For days and weeks I studiously avoid passmg by

776 BURNED OUT !

the charred remains of my so lately proud establish-
ment. I never liked looking on a corpse, and here
was my own corpse, my own smouldering remains, my
dead hopes and aspirations, all the fine plans and pur-
poses of my life lying here a heap of ashes, and I
could not bear to look upon them.

Half of the time during these days I was sick in
bed with nervous prostration. Day after day and far
into the night I lay there with an approximate state-
ment of the condition of my finances in my hand, hold-
ing it before my eyes until I could not see the figures.
It seemed as long as I had it, and held it where I
could see it, that I was thus meeting the issues which
I must presently fight out as soon as I could stand on
my legs. It was the long and Imgering suspense
that piled up the agony ; if I was to be hanged, and
could know it at once, face it, and have it over, I
could nerve myself for the emergency; but to keep
myself nerved to meet whatever might come, not
knowing what that would be, required all my forti-
tude and all my strength.

So far as the mere loss of money was concerned,
or that I should be held in less esteem by my fellow-
men, I cared nothing for that. I never loved money;
few and simple were my wants ; I desired to be held
only in such esteem as I deserved, and that estima-
tion most men have in the community, themselves or
their enemies to the contrary notwithstanding.

A sense of obligation in regard to the duties of
life rests to a greater or less degree upon most men.
We do not like to see wrong-doing triumph, or the
innocent made to suffer; we do not like to see pecu-
lation in office, bribery among officials, or the greed
of monopolists eating up a community; we do not
like to see the young squander their inheritance, or
women and preachers gambling in stocks. Somewhat
similarly, we do not like to see an old established
business, a credit and almost a necessity to the com-
munity, which year after year lives and grows, giving

AN INOPPORTUNE TIME. 777

support to scores of families, become obliterated

There are persons, particularly among women who
seem able to endure no end of life's buffetino-s and
never know it. They do not seem to realiz'e that
their lot IS so much harder than that of others, never
having tasted the superior joys. From birth to death
theirs IS the golden mean of sorrow, their woes being
so well distributed by a kind heavenly father, that
without some great woe to rouse them they never are
aware of their current misery.

''What a blessing your library was not burned,"
the old-womanish men would say. ''It was providen-
tial that you had moved it." Blessing! There was
no blessing about it. It was altogether a curse ; a
cursed and contemptible dispensation of providence,
if that is the orthodox term for bad luck. And of a
truth I should have felt relieved if the library had
gone too, and so brought my illustrious career to a
close. I felt with Shylock, as well take my history
as take from me the means of completing my history
I could curse my fate ; but with more show of reasoK
curse the management w^iich, unknown to me, had
crammed full to overflowing eight large floors witli
precious merchandise in order to take advantage uf
low freights, at the same time cutting down the vol-
ume of insurance, so that when the match was applied
in the basement of the furniture store adjoining, and
a two-hours' blaze left only a heap of ashes, the old
business should be killed as dead as possible. Oh !
there was plenty to curse about in those days, but
hard to see any good come of it.

The business had not been very popuiar of late ; it
had not been conducted upon the most liberal or
high-minded basis ; it had many competitors and con-
sequently many enemies; hence thousands were made
happy by its fall. I do not know how we all could
have gone to work to confer the greatest pleasure
upon the greatest number so effectually as in burning
up our establishment. Yet some were kind enough

778 BURNED OUT !

to say that it was a public calamity ; that there was
nothing now in the country which might properly be
called a bookstore, as compared with what ours was,
and all that.

We knew better than others what such words sig-
nified; that mercantile houses like ours, as it lately
stood, could not be built, any more than mountains
could be made, or systems of knowledge evolved, in a
day. I had been thirty years in tliis work of crea-
tion; I had not another thirty years to devote to a
similar work ; therefore I knew I never should
have another such a bookstore.

But there were other things in the world besides
bookstores; if I could get rest from severe strain I
would be satisfied ; but I could do anything now but
rest. To be or not to be was the question. Should I
make a struggle to recuperate my fortunes, or should
I lay down my weary bones and drift as comfortably as
I mitxht into the reofions of the unconscious. Were I
to consider myself alone ; had I no work to do affect-
ing others, other persons, other principles than the
best preservation of self, I could tell quickly what I
would do. I would choose some sunny hillside and
there follow with my eyes the rising and setting of
the sun, until the evening: should come when I mioiit
go down with it.

The question was not what I would like to do, but
what ought I to do. To be influenced by what would
make me the most happy or miserable was putting it
upon rather a low plane. One man's happiness or
misery for a few years is a small matter; small to his
fellow-men, who are thinking of themselves, small to his
maker, who has set up the universe, apparently upon
the principle of the greatest misery to the greatest
number; and need not be of surpassing solicitude to
himself, if he stops thinking about himself, his happi-
ness or misery, and goes about his business in the
spirit of doing in the best manner he can the thing
which most of all requires next to be done.

WHAT SHALL I TRY TO DO? 779

To be or not to be, that was the question. Being
dead, were it not better to be buried ? I was tired,
as I said ; I could easily sink out of sight, and lie at
rest beside my sepulchred hopes. This would be the
easiest way out of the difficulty. But I had never
been accustomed to the easiest way, or to regard my
pleasure as the first consideration in life. To do as
• best I was able, every day and every hour, the thing
nearest me to be done, whether I liked it or not — that
had been the unwritten code by which I had regulated
my conduct; and all, whether I would or not, and all
without knowing it, I could now no more deviate from
that course than I could change my nature. Except
in moments of deepest depression, and then for only a
moment, did T think of such a thing as giving up. To
face the detail of going over the dead business to save
what could be saved sickened me beyond measure, but
I had to swallow the dose. I offered to give the rem-
nant of the business to any one who would assume the
responsibility, and save me the trouble and annoyance
of cleaning it up ; but no one would take it, and I was
therefore compelled to do it myself.

I say there were other things than myself to be
considered; indeed, myself was but a small part of it.
There was the history, and the men engaged on it,
and the pledc^es which had been made to the public
and to subscribers. ^'Ah, yes," they would say, '[ this
inip-ht have been expected, and so we are left with a
broken set of books on our hands." There was the
business, and a large body of creditors that must be
i^aid Tliere was my family, and all who should come
after me ; if I should fail myself and others now, who
would ever after rise up and retrieve our fallen tor-
tunes ^ No; I could do now a hundred times more
than any one of them could probably do at any time
hereafter, and I would try to do it, though the etiort
should oTind me to powder. Then, too, it was not in
the power of man so constituted and so disciplmecl as
I had been to sit down beside the business I had es-

780 BURNED OUT!

tablished in my boyhood, and labored to sustain and
build up all throughout my life, and see the light of it
go out, become utterly extinguished, making no effort
to save it.

After all, the burning of gunpowder is but the sud-
den change of a solid into a gas, though the effect is
sometimes terrible ; the burning of a bookstore is but
the changing of merchandise into smoke and ashes,
but a thousand hearts and minds and lives may be af-
fected or wholly changed thereby. So I set about
considering as coolly as I could the position of things,
what might be done, what might not be done, and
what it were best to try to do.

The situation must be considered from several points
of view. Building and business being both cut off,
I had not a dollar of income in the world. I did not
deem it possible to reerect the store, the former build-
ing being heavily mortgaged. I offered the lot for
sale, but no one would buy at a fair price. It took
two months to ascertain whether the business was
solvent or not ; for although most of the account-books
had been saved, there were goods and invoices in tran-
sit, and new statements of accounts had to be obtained
from every quarter.

Until the state of the business could be definitely
known, I could make no calculations about anything.
I might have to sell all I had to pay the debts of the
firm. Above all, it might be utterly beyond the ques-
tion to continue the publication of the history. This
would be indeed the greatest calamity that could
befall; for in that event, without flattering myself
that the world at large would regard the matter in
a serious light, to me, and to those more imniediately
interested in and dependent upon me, all would be
lost, not only property and life, but that for which
life and property had been given. A half-finished
work would be comparatively valueless; and not
only would no one take up the broken threads and
continue the several narratives, but there would be

RE-ADJUSTMENTS. 73j

little hope of the work ever being ao'ain attempted
by any one on the extensive and thorouph plan I had
marked out. It is true that much of the work that
1 had accomphshed would be useful in the hands
ot another, whether working in conjunction with or
under the direction of some society or government
or ma private capacity; the question was, however'
would any government or individual undertake it?
Ihe collected materials would never diminish in im-
portance, but rather increase in value as time passed
by, and the indices, prepared at such a large expen-
diture of time and labor, would always be regarded
of primary necessity, as the only means by whicli vast
stores of knowledge could be reached.

As I have before remarked, it is a matter worthy
of some thought how the great libraries of the future
are to be made, when the rare and valuable books
which constitute the choicest feature of all the more
important collections cannot be obtained. Of some
of the apparently essential early works, it is only at
wide intervals that a copy can now be obtained. As
time goes by the intervals will become wider, and the
books impossible to obtain will increase in number,
until even large collections will be made up of books
which are now easily obtained. Some of these will
in time become scarce; and so it will continue, until
in a liundred years, when America will have fifty fine
libraries for every one which now exists, compara-
tively few of the books which form the basis of the
best libraries to-day will be found in them.

But to return to my affairs so greatly disarranged
by this unfortunate fire. I kept the old store lot, for
the reason before intimated, because I could not sell
it, buyers seeming to think it a special imposition if
they could not profit by the fire. When, finally, I
saw that I need not sell it, the savings banks sending
me word that if I wanted to rebuild to come around
and get the money, I saw in it a hundred thousand
dollars better for me than any offer I could get for

782 BURNED OUT!

the lot. Then I determined to go on and rebuild,
and at once started out to do so.

Then there was the library work to be considered.
While comparatively speaking I was near the end, so
near tliat I could begin to think of retiring to farm
life, and a voyage of several years around the world
as an educating expedition for my children, yet I had
much to do, and this fire added a hundred fold to
that, even sliould it be proved possible to complete
the work at all. I had them make out for me at the li-
brarv a schedule showino^ the exact condition of the
work, wliat had been done, what remained to be done,
what plates had been destroyed and what remained,
and an estimate of the probable time and expense it
would require to complete the history. Two years
and twelve thousand dollars were the time and money
estimated, but both time and money were nearly
doubled before the end came.

It was interesting to observe the diverse attitudes
assumed by different persons after the fire, the actions
of various persons, friends and enemies, in the busi-
ness and out of it. I will enumerate some of them
by classes and individuals. First, and by far the
largest class, to the honor of humanity be it said, were
honest and hearty sympathizers, of high and low
degree, who regarded our business as a useful one, its
objects in the main praiseworthy, and its loss a public
calamity. Another class, large enough, but not so
large as the other, was our enemies, mostly business
competitors, who had long been envious of us, and
were now delighted at our discomfiture. As I have
said before, few fires, of a private nature, ever occurred
which made more people happy.

A singular phenomenon was a shoal of business
sharks which sailed in around us, seeking something
to devour. It is useless citing examples, but I was
surprised beyond expression to find among the com-
mercial and industrial ranks, doing business with every

TRUE AND FALSE FRIENDS. 783

claim to honesty and respectability, those scarcely
inferior to highway robbers; real estate sharpers,
swindling contractors, and lawyers, hunting for some
loop-hole to get a finger in — men who by rights
should be within the walls of a penitentiary. It
was then that I first learned that there were busi-
ness men in our midst whose principles and practices
were worse than those of any three-carde monte men,
or other cheats; who lived and did business only to
get the better of people by some catch, trick, swindle,
or other indirection.

Best of all were the true and noble fellows of our
own establishment, who stood by us regardless of any
consequences to themselves. All were not of this
true stamp, however ; there were some from whom w^e
expected most, for whom we had done the most, but
who now returned us only evil, showing bad hearts —
but let them pass. It is a matter for self-congratula-
tion rather than regret, the discovery of a traitor in
the camp, of an unprincipled person in a position of
trust and confidence, one held in high esteem, not to
say affectionate regard, — to find him out, to know him
that he might be avoided. It is jiot the open enemy
that does us serious injury, but the treacherous friend.
And in truth I have encountered few such during my
life, either in the business or out of it, few compara-
tively. Most young men, if ever they have once felt
the impressions of true nobility and mtegrity, will not
depart from them. Some forget themselves and fall
into evil ways, but these are few. There is no higher
or nobler work, no more pleasing sight, than to watch
and assist the unfolding of true nobleness of character
in youncr men of good impulses. And while there
are so many of inferior ability seeking situations, and
so many situations waiting for competent persons it
seems a pity the standard of excellence and mteUi-
p-ence is not raised. -, ^ i .

There were in the ranks of the old busmess in-
stances of loyalty and devotion which will remain

784 BURNED OUT!

graven on my heart forever — men who, regardless of
their own interests, stood by the wreck, determined
at any personal hazard, any self-sacrifice, to lend tljcir
aid as long as hope remained. I noticed with pride
that most of the beads of departments thus remain-
ing bad begun tbeir business career with me in the
original house of H. H. Bancroft and Company, and
had been in full accord with me and my historical
work from first to last ; and I swore to myself that if
the business survived, these men should never regret
their course, and I do not think they ever have. Nor
should my assistants at the library be forgotten, sev-
eral of whom, besides quite a number at the store,
voluntarily cut down their salary in order to make
as light as possible the burden of completing my
work.

In many varied moods were we met by different
persons with whom we had dealings. We did not
propose to fail, or compromise, or ask an extension,
as long as we had a dollar wherewith to pay our debts ;
but there was no use disguising the fact that the busi-
ness had received a severe blow, and might not sur-
vive it. Among the publishers and manufacturers of
the eastern United States are men of every breadth
of mind and size of soul. During this ' memorable
year we took an inventory of them, sizing them up
at about their value. Nearly all of them extended
to us their sympathy, some of which was heart-felt.
Quite a number went further, and manifested a dis-
position to help us regain our feet ; but this amounted
to little, practically, though the feelings which prompted
kind acts are never to be despised.

There was a man in Massachusetts, with whom we
had no intimate acquaintance, and on whom we had
no special claim. We had bought goods from him as
from others; but he was not like some others of his
locality, wholly given to gain, with bloodless instincts
and cold worship of wealth. He met us openly,
frankly, with something more than machine-made

BUSINESS MORALS.

sympathy, and asked to share with us our loss Never
will we forget the courtesy and kindness of this man
or the firm he represents, the minds and hearts of
whose members are so far above the milKons thev
command, ennobling themselves, their families, and
whatsoever merchandise their fingers touch
^ Mao-nanimity, however, cuts no very great figure
m busmess ethics. It seems that the good gofd of
commercial morals must have a reasonable alloy to
make it wear. A certain amount of cold-blooded cal-
culation, not to say downright meanness, is essential
to^ business success. It will not do for a man of af-
fairs, if he would achieve any marked success, to allow
any feelings of humanity, benevolence, or kindness of
heart to stand in his way. Eeligion he may bend to
his purpose, but must not permit himself to be bent
by it. The easi-est and most economical way, as a
rule, in matters of public opinion and policy is to drift
with the tide. The most successful men, in any di-
rection, are not the best men. They may be best for
civilization, but civilization is not the highest or holiest
good, nor does it seem to be conducive to the greatest
happiness. Civilization is not best served by the best
men. Take from progress and the highest and keen-
est intellectual refinement the rascalities attending
their development, and the development would be far
less than it is.

The publishers and book-sellers of New York and
Boston as business men are very like other business
men, rather above than below the average. A certain
amount of intelligence, or even learning, may be rubbed
off from the outside of books, coming in life contact
with them as book-men do. Yet by the more success-
ful, books are handled as others handle bales of dry
goods or barrels of groceries. A true lover of books
is not usually found among the more prominent book-
sellers, to whom their merchandise is like the mer-
chandise of any dealer to him. There is some little
business courtesy among the eastern booksellers, but

Lit. Ind. 50.

786 BURNED OUT!

this does not amount to much; if one treads upon the
toes of another, the offended one strikes back if he is
able, if not, he submits to the inevitable. At the
same time the spirit of clannishness is hot wholly ab-
sent, as instanced by the way they all look upon any
attempt at book-publishing outside of their circle, or
rather, beyond the limits of their western horizon.
Like some of the machine-made presidents and pro-
fessors of eastern colleges and universities, tliey seem
to think that all learning and literature, book-making
and book-selling, should by rights be confined to the
eastern sea-board. But all of them as they grow
older will learn better; or at least the rising genera-
tion should learn, though some of these seem more
ready to adopt their father's vices than to emulate his
virtues.

More pertinent than these antiquated ideas is the
fact that the west lacks business intercourse and con-
nections, the channels of trade radiating for the most
part from the east. But this is being rapidly over-
come. Chicago is fairly in the field in the publication
of miscellaneous books, and to-day San Francisco is
sending more law-books of her own manufacture east
than she receives from that quai-ter. And in the
near future there will be on this western sea-board
more than one Mount Hamilton, telling the world of
new stars.

As a rule, the eastern publishers of books stand
high in the community as men of morals, honesty, in-
tegrity, religion, and respectability. And as a rule
they deserve it, as I have said. There are some
among them, however, who cannot be placed so high,
notably some of the educational book-publishers, who
do not hesitate to resort to any and every kind of
bribery and corruption to get their books adopted.
Many will not do this, but many again will. Surely
there should not be anything so very damaging to
business morals in the printing and placing in use
books for school-children. But seldom do business

REMEMBERED KINDNESS. 787

and politics meet except to the injury of both. Fair
and honest dealing asks no aid from politics, and when
office-holders begin to handle the business man'smoney,
he may bid farewell to honesty and integrity.

On the whole, we considered ourselves very fairly
treated, both at the west and at the east, in the ad-
justment of difficulties arising from the fire. The in-
surance companies were entitled to every praise, paying
their losses promptly before they were due. New
friendships were made, and old friendships widened
and cemented anew. I was specially gratified by the
confidence moneyed men seemed to repose in me,
granting me all the accommodations I desired, and
thus enabling me quickly to recuperate my fortunes,
as I will more fully narrate in the next and final
chapter.

CHAPTER XXXI.

THE HISTORY COMPANY AND THE BANCROFT COMPANY.

* Nihil infelicius est cui nihil unquam evenit adversi, non licuit enim illi
se experiri.' Seneca.

Prosperity inspires an elevation of mind even in the mean-spirited, so
that they show a certain degree of high-mindedness and chivalry in the lofty
position in which fortune has placed them; but the man who possesses real
fortitude and magnanimity will show it by the dignity of his behavior under
losses, and in the most adverse fortune. Plutarch.

As the goods arrived which were in transit at the
time of the fire, they were put into a store in the
Grand hotel, on Market street, of which we took a
lease for a year. Orders came in and customers
called, making their purchases, though in a limited
way. Considering the crippled condition of the busi-
ness and the general prostration of its affairs, the
result was more favorable than might have been
expected. In due time after the fire I was able to
ascertain that with close collections, and making
the most of everything, the business was not only
solvent, but had a margin of one hundred thousand
dollars of resources above liabilities. To bring about
this happy state of things, however, the utmost care
and watchfulness, with the best of management were
necessary ; for while returns from resources were slow
and precarious, the liabilities were certain and defined.

A number of fragmentary concerns sprang up,
thrown off from the parent institution in the whirl of
the great convulsion. Our law department was
united with the business of Sumner Whitney, and
a large and successful law-book publishing house was
thus established under the able management of good
men from both houses, who were less inclined, how-
ever, to yield proper credit to those who had laid the

THE HISTORY BUILDING. 789

foundation for them to build upon, than to vote them-
selves large salaries, and derive all the personal profit
therefrom possible. The history department was
segregated from the old business, and reorganized and
incorporated under the name of The History Com-
pany.

The bare fact of loss of property, — not being able
to count myself worth as much as formerly by so
many thousand, — as I have before intimated, never
gave me a moment's pang or uneasiness. All through
the whole of it the main question, and the only ques-
tion, was, could the publishing business pay its debts 1
If the Market street lot, the Hbrary, my farms, and
all other property had to be sacrificed to liquidate the
indebtedness of the business, thereby arresting the
publication of the history, and sending me forth
empty-handed to earn my bread, — I frankly admit that
I could not face this possibility without flinching.
But when it was ascertained that the old business
was solvent, and would pay its debts without the fur-
ther sacrifice of my resources, I wrote my wife, who
was still in San Diego attending to affairs there, that
she need have no fear of the future, for if I lived we
would yet have enough and to spare, without con-
sidering what might happen in southern California.

Buying an additional lot, so as to make a width ot
one hundred feet on Stevenson street, having still
seventy-five feet frontage on Market street, m some-
thing over a year I had completed on the old site a
strong and beautiful edifice, a feature of Market street,
and of the city, which I called The History Building.
Its architecture was original and artistic, the struc-
ture monumental, and it was so named m considera-
tion of my historical efforts.

I had seen from the first that it would be necessary
as soon as possible, if I expected to get ^^otlier start in
the world, to secure some steady mcome, both at ban
Sfego and San Francisco. In the ormer place, prop-
erty was so rapidly increasing m value, with mcreased

790 THE HISTORY COMPANY AND THE BANCROFT COMPANY.

taxation and street assessments, that unless it could
be made productive a portion of it would have to be
sold. Some of it, the outside lands, were sold, and
with the proceeds, and what I could scrape together
in San Francisco, we managed to erect a business
building there, which brought in good returns. Then
there was the ground-rent from a hundred lots or so,
which helped materially. No money which I had
ever handled gave me half the pleasure as that which
I was able to send to my wife at this time; for
although it lessened and made more difficult my
chances of success in San Francisco, it removed my
family further every day from possible want, and thus
gave me renewed strength for the battle.

Up to this time the publication and sale of my
historical series had been conducted as one of the
departments of the general business, under the man-
aorement of Nathan J. Stone. As this business had
assumed large proportions, sometimes interfering
with the other departments, not always being in har-
mony with them or with the general management, it
was finally thought best to organize an independent
company, having for its object primarily the publica-
tions of my books, together with general book-pub-
lishing, and acting at the same time as an agency for
strictly first-class eastern subscription publications.

It may be not out of place to give here some
account of the manner in which the publication and
sale of this historical series was conducted, with a
brief biography of the man who managed it; for if
there had been anything unusual in gathering the
material and writing these histories, the method by
which they were published and placed in the hands
of readers was no less remarkable.

Ordinarily, for a commercial man formally to an-
nounce to the world that he was about to write and
publish a series of several histories, which with pre-
liminary and supplemental works would number in
all thirty-nine volumes, would be regarded, to say the

METHOD OF PUBLICATION.

701

least, as a somewhat visionary proposition. Those
best capable of appreciating the amount of time,
money, labor, and steadfastness of purpose involved!
would say that such an one had no conception of what
he was undertaking, did not know in fact what he
was talking about, and the chances were a hundred
to one he would never complete the work.

Still further out of the way would it seem for the
publishers of the series to bring forward a pros-
pectus and invite subscriptions beforehand for the
whole thirty-nine volumes at once. Such a proceed-
ing had never been heard of since publishing began.
It could not be done. Why not adopt the usual
course, announce the first work of the series and take
subscriptions therefor ? This done, publish the second ;
and so on. People will not subscribe for so large a
work so far in advance of its completion, with all the
attendant uncertainties. So said those of widest ex-
perience, and who were supposed to be the best capa-
ble of judging.

We well knew that no New York or London pub-
lisher would undertake the enterprise on such terms.
We also knew that no book, or series of books, had
ever been written as these had been. We did not
know that the publication and sale could be success-
fully effected on this basis, but we determined to try,
and for the following reasons :

First, properly to place this work before men of
discrimination and taste in such a way as to make
them fully understand it, its inception and execution,
the ground it covers with every how and why, re-
quired strong men of no common ability, and such
men must receive adequate compensation for superior
intelligence and energy. To sell a section of the work
would by no means pay them for their tim.e and

labor. 1x1

Secondly, when once the patron should understand
the nature and scope of the work, how it was origi-
nated and how executed, as a rule, if he desired any ot

792 THE HISTORY COMPANY AND THE BANCROFT COMPANY.

it, he would want it all. As is now well known, any
one section of the series, though complete in itself, is
but one of a number, all of which are requisite to the
completion of the plan.

Thirdly, considering the outlay of time and money
on each section, a subscription to only one volume, or
one set of volumes, would in no way compensate or
bring a fair return to the publisher. Throughout the
series are constant references and cross-references, by
means of which repetitions, otherwise necessary for
the proper understanding of each several part, are
saved, thus making the history of Mexico of value to
California, and vice versa, so that if the citizen of
Oregon places upon his shelves the history of
Colorado, the Coloradan should reciprocate.

When a book is published, clearly the purpose is
that it should be circulated. Publishing signifies
sending forth. Print and stack up in your basement
a steamboat load of books, and until they are sent out
they are not published. And they must be sent out
to bona fide subscribers, and placed in the hands of
those who value them sufficiently to invest money in
them. To print and present does not answer the pur-
pose ; neither individual wealth nor the authority of
government can give a book influence, or cause it to
be regarded as of intrinsic value. It must be worth
buying in the first place, and must then be bought,
to make it valued.

In the matter of patronage, I would never allow
myself to be placed in the attitude of a mendicant. I
had devoted myself to this work voluntarily, not
through hope of gain, or from any motive of patri-
otism or philanthropy, or because of any idea of
superior ability, or a desire for fame, but simply
because it gave me pleasure to do a good work well.
Naturally, and very properly, if I might be permitted
to accomplish a meritorious work, I would like the
approbation of my fellow-men ; if I should be able to
confer a benefit on the country, it would be pleasant

NATHAN J. STONE. ^p.j

to see it recognized ; but to trade upon this sentiment
or allow others tu do so, would be most repuo-nant to
me ^

Therefore, it was my great desire that if ever the
work should be placed before the public for sale it
should be done m such a manner as to connnand and
retam for it the respect and approbation of the best
men.^ It would be so easy for an incompetent or in-
judicious person to bring the work into disfavor, in
failing to make its origin, its plan, and purpose, prop-
erly understood. In due time fortune directed to the
publishers the man of all others best fitted to the
task.

^ Nathan Jonas Stone was born in Webster, Mer-
rimac county. New Hampshire, June 11, 1843, which
spot was likewise the birth-place of his father, Peter
Stone. Both of his grandfathers were captains in the
army, one serving in the revolutionary war, and the
other in the war of 1812.

Mr. Stone's early life was spent on a farm, working
during summer, and attending school or teaching in
winter. No better training can be devised for making
strong and self-reliant men ; no better place was ever
seen for laying the foundations of firm principles, and
knitting the finer webs of character, than a New
England country home.

In 1863, being then twenty years of age, Mr.
Stone came to California by the way of Panamd,, ar-
riving in San Francisco on the 1 8th of August, with
just ten cents in his pocket. Investing his capital in
Bartlett pears, he seated himself on the end of a log,
near the wharf where he had landed, and ate them.
Thus fortified for whatever fate might have in store,
he set out to find work. He knew not a soul
in the city, having thus cast himself adrift upon the
tide of his own native resources, in a strange country,
at this early age, with cool indifference parting from
his last penny, well knowing that there was no such
thino- as starvation in store for a boy of his metal.

794 THE HISTORY COMPANY AND THE BANCROFT COMPANY.

Times were very dull, and easy places with good
pay were not abundant. Nor did he even search for
one ; but after walking about for the greater part of
the day, making his first tour of observation in the
country, about five o'clock he saw posted on Kearny
street a notice of workmen wanted, and was about
making inquiries concerning the same, when he was
accosted by a man driving a milk- wagon, who asked
him if he was looking for employment. Stone replied
that he was ; whereupon the man engaged him on the
spot, at forty dollars a month and board. Three
months afterward he was offered and accepted the
superintendence of the industrial school farm, acting
later as teacher and deputy superintendent.

In 1867, he entered the house of H. H. Bancroft
and company, acting as manager first of the subscrip-
tion department, and then of the wholesale department.
In 1872, he became interested in the awakening of
civilization in Japan, and opened business on his own
account in Yokohama, where his transactions soon
reached a million of dollars a year, importing general
merchandise and exporting the products of the coun-
try. He placed a printing-press in the mikado's
palace, which led to the establishment of a printing-
bureau, and the cutting out and casting into type of the
Japanese characters.

Obliged by ill-health to abandon business, he re-
turned to San Francisco in 1878 completely prostrated;
but after a summer at his old home, he recuperated,
his health still further improving during a four years'
residence at Santa Rosa, California.

Mr Stone had followed me in my historical efibrts
with great interest from the first. He had watched
the gradual accumulation of material, and the long
labor of its utilization. He believed thoroughly in
the work, its plan, the methods by which it was
wrought out, and the great and lasting good which
would accrue to the country from its publication. He
was finally induced to accept the important responsi-

GEORGE H. MORRISON. 795

bility of placing the work before the world, of assum-
ing the general management of its publication and
sale, and devoting his life thereto. No one could
have been better fitted for this arduous task than he.
With native ability were united broad experience and
a keen insight into men and things. Self-reliant, yet
laborious in his efforts, bold, yet cautious, careful in
speech, of tireless energy, and ever jealous for the
reputation of the work, he entered the field determined
upon success. A plan was devised wholly unique in
the annals of book-publishing, no less original, no less
difficult of execution than were the methods by which
alone it was made possible for the author to write the
work in the first place. And with unflinching faith
and loyalty, Mr Stone stood by the proposition until
was wrought out of it the most complete success.

Among the most active and efficient members of
The History Company is George Howard Morrison,
a native of Maine, having been born at Calais No-
vember 8, 1845. His ancestors were of that Scotch-
Irish mixture, with a tincture of English, which
produces strong men, mentally and physically. On
the father's side the line of sturdy Scotch farmers and
manufacturers, with a plentiful intermixture of law-
yers and doctors, may be traced back for generations ;
the mother brought to the alliance the Irish name
of McCudding and the English Sinclair. George was
one of nine children. Owing to failures in business
their father was unable to carry out his design of
giving them a liberal education, but in New England
there is always open the village school, which many
a prominent American has made suffice. It certainly
speaks volumes for the self-reliance and enterprise of
the boy George, when we find him in 1859, at the
age of fourteen, alone, without a friend or an ac-
quaintance in the country, applying for a situation
at the office of a prominent lawyer in Sacramento.

'^What can you do?" asked the lawyer.

796 THE HISTORY COMPANY AND THE BANCROFT COMPANY.

''Anything that any boy can do who is no bigger
or abler than I am," was the reply.

The lawyer w^as pleased, took the lad to his home,
gave him a place in his office, and initiated him in the
mysteries of the law. There he remained, until the
growing importance of the silver development drew him
to Nevada, where he made and lost several fortunes.
Entering politics, he was made assessor of Virginia
City in 18G6, represented Storey county in the legis-
loture in 1873, and was chief clerk of the assembly,
introducing a bill which greatly enlarged the useful-
ness of the state orphan asylum. In 1870 Mr Mor-
rison married Mary E. Howard, the most estimable
and accomplished daughter of John S. Howard, type-
founder of Boston, four children, Mildred, Lillie,
George, and Helen, being the fruits of this union.

Mr Morrison was one of the first subscribers to the
history, in which he became deeply interested, finally
joining his fate with that of The History Company,
.of which he is secretary, and of The Bancroft Com-
pany, in both of which companies he is a director.

As The History Building drew near completion,
the proposition arose to move the business back into
its old quarters; but it had become so crippled in its
resources and reduced in its condition, that I did not
feel like assuming the labor, risk, and responsibility
of the necessary increased expenses.

I had long been anxious to get out of business
rather than go deeper into it. The thought lay
heavy upon me of taking again upon my already
well-burdened shoulders the care and responsibility
of a wide-spread business, with endless detail and
scant capital; I did not care for the money should
it succeed; I wanted nothing further now than to
get myself away from everything of the kind.

Yet there was my old business which I had estab-
lished in my boyhood, and worked out day by day and
year by year into magnificent and successful propor-
tions; for there had never been a year since its foun-

IN NEW AND ELEGANT QUARTERS. 797

dation that it had not grown and flourished, and that
as a rule in ever-increasing proportions. I had for
ij an aifection outside of any mercenary interest.
Ihrough good and evil times it had stood bravely by
me by my family, my history, my associates, and
employes, and I could not desert it now I could
not see it die or go to the dogs without an effort to
save it; for I felt that such would be its fate if it
neglected the opportunity to go back to its old local-
ity, and regain somewhat of its old power and pres-
tige. The country was rapidly going forward. There
must soon be a first-class bookstore" in San Francisco.
There was none such now, and if ours did not step to
the front and assume that position, some other one
would. Immediately after the fire the remarks were
common, '^t is a public loss"; ''We have nowhere,
now, to go for our books"; ''Your store was not
appreciated until it was gone."

My family were now all well provided for, through
the rise of real estate in San Diego. What I had be-
sides need not affect them one way or the other. I
felt that I had the right to risk it in a good cause —
every dollar of it, and my life in addition, if I so
chose. After all, it was chiefly a question of health
and endurance. I determined to try it; once more I
would adventure, and succeed or sink all.

So I laid my plans accordingly, and in company
with W. B. Bancroft, Mr Colley, and Mr Borland, all
formerly connected with the original house of H. H.
Bancroft and Company, I organized and incorporated
The Bancroft Company, and moved the old business
back upon the old site, but into new and elegant
quarters. Behold the new creation! Once more
we had a bookstore, one second to none in all this
western world — an establishment which was a daily
pride and pleasure, not so widely spread as the old
one, but in many respects better conditioned. Above
all, we were determined to popularize it, and place it
in many respects upon a higher plane than ever it
had before enjoyed. And we succeeded.

798 THE HISTORY COMPANY AND THE BANCflOFT COMPANY.

The management of The Bancroft Company was
placed in the hands of my nephew, W. B. Bancroft,
who had been well instructed in the business, and had
ever been loyal to it. At the time of the fire he was
at the head of the manufactory, having under him
two or three hundred men. Husbanding his influence
and resources, he started a printing-office on his own
account, and was on the broad road to success when
he was invited to unite his manufactory with the old
business under the new name, and assume the man-
agement, which he finally consented to do. Thus
he, with the others, passed through the fiery furnace
unscathed, and with them deserved the success which
he achieved. No small portion of his success as a
manufacturer has been due to the devoted eflbrts of
James A. Pariser, the able and efficient superin-
tendent of the printing department. Thus, with
fresh blood, good brains, and ample capital, there was
no reason apparent why the new business should not
in time far outstrip the old, and on its centennial in
1956 stand unapproached by any similar institution
in the new and grandest of empires on the shores of
the Pacific.

INDEX

Abernethy, Mrs, mention of, 542;

material furnished by, 550.
Adam, L., reviews 'Native Eaces,'

360.
Adams, C. F., meeting with Ban-
croft, etc., 338.
Alaska, material for Hist, of, 551-61

621-3.
Alcantara, Emperor Dom. P. de, vis-
its to Bancroft's library, etc., 1876,
628-9.
Alemany, Archbishop J. S., archives

furnished by, 472-4.
Allen, A., dictation of, 534.

Altamirano, Y. M., appearance, etc.,
of, 734.

Alvarado, J. B., biog., etc., of, 407-8;
Vallejo's negotiations with, 408-12;
material furnished by, etc., 408-27.

Amador County, Cal., name, 524.

Amador, J., dictation, etc., of, 524.

Amat, Bishop, meeting with Ban-
croft, etc., 496-7.

American Antiquarian Society, Ban-
croft lion, member of, 361.

American Ethnological Society, Ban-
croft hon. member of, 362.

Ames, J. G., meeting with Bancroft,
etc., 351-2.

Anderson, A. C, manuscript, etc.,
of, 534-8.

Anderson, J., reviews 'Native Races,'
351.

Andrade, D. J. M., library of, 185-91.

Andree, Dr. K., reviews 'Native
Races, ' 358.

Applegate, J., character, etc., of,
546-7.

Appleton, D. & Co., contract with
Bancroft, 346.

Arce, F., mention of, 523.

Argiiello meets Cerruti, etc., 404.

Argiiello, Senora, mention of, 405-6.

Amaz, J. de, dictation of, 496-7, 528.

Ash, Dr. J., mention of, 530; Manu-

script, etc., of, 533.
'Atlantic Monthly,' reviews 'Native

Races,' 350.
Authors, mention of various, 308-10-

characteristics, etc., of, 664-82. '
Authorship, miseries of, 346-7.
Avery, B. P., mention of, 313.
Avila, J dictation of, 526; courtesy

01, 527.
Avila, Senora, 528-9.

B

Bacon, J. M., dictation of, 546.

Ballon, J., mention of, 541.

Bancroft, A., mention of, 48, 50;
character, 49; death of, 55.

Bancroft, A. A., ancestry of, 47-8;
extract from 'Golden Wedding,'
48; life in old and new Granville,
49-50;^ boys' work in the olden
time, 50; courtship and marriage,
59; his own account of his wooing,
60; removal to Missouri, 62-77; in
California, 125.

Bancroft, C, business ventures of,
125.

Bancroft, G., meeting with H. H.
Bancroft, 345. '

Bancroft, H. H., works of, appre.
ciated, 12-15; ancestry and rela
tives, 47-55; boyhood, 63-104,
character, 73-7; education, 90-104^
early career, 109-37; voyage to
Cal., 1852, 121; at Crescent City,
1853-5, 137-40; homeward trip,
1855, 142-7; return to Cal., 1856,
147; firm establ'd by, 147-8; first
marriage, 151-4; business affairs,
155-65, 230-1; death of wife, 158-
61; inception of liter, work, 166-
74; books collected by, 173-97,
347, 351-3, 478-561, 618-40, 702^
63; library, 198-276, 562-91; liter,
projects, 222-9; ill-health, 226-8;
(799)

800

INDEX.

preparation of material, 231-43,
513-14; assistants, 245-77, 365-76,
513; scope of work, 278-9, 286-8;
despondency, 280-3; liter. ejQForts,
287-95; 'History of the Pacific
States,' 295, 581-91, 790-5; 'Native
Races,' 295-325, 569-70, 575; re-
views, etc., of works, 316-25, 338,
341-2, 350-1, 357-64; eastern tour,
1874, 326-64, 1876, 460-5; meeting,
etc., with Bliss, 329-31; with Pal-
frey, 332-3; with Gray, 334-5;
with Lowell, 335; with Phillips,
336-7; with Whittier, 337-8; with
Adams, 338; with Parkman, 338;
with Emerson, 339; with Howells,
339; with Holmes, 339-40; with
Higginson, 341; with G. Bancroft,
345, 461; with Draper, 345-6;
Avith Nordlioflf, 346; with Porter,
348; with King, 348-9; with Spof-
ford, 351-2, 461; with Ames, 351-
2; with Sargent, 352-3; agreement
with Longmans & Co., 354; corres-
pondence with Lubbock, 355; with
Spencer, 356, 362; with Oilman,
356; with Latham, 356; with Lecky,
356-7; with Helps, 357; with Daw-
kins, 359; with Tylor, 359-60;
manuscripts procured by, etc.,
383-443, 461-5, 487-561, 628-49,
739, 761-2; negotiations, etc., with
Vallejo, 383-443; with Castro, 415-
26; second marriage, 456-60; visit
to Fremont, etc., 460-1; to Sutter,
461-5; trip to Southern Cal., 1874,
478-508; archives collected by,
468-83, 493-529, 543-4, 538, 628,
701-2, 736, 740-7, 763, meeting,
etc., with Hayes, 478-84, 509-13;
with Ubach, 485; with Pico, 490-2;
with Amat, 496-7; with Taylor,
497-503; with Vila, 503-4; with
Gonzalez, 505; with Romo, 505-8;
northern trip, 1878, 530-49; meet-
ing with Elliott, 532-3; with Rich-
ards, 532; with Tod, 536; with
McKinlay, 536-7; with Tolmie,
537; with Finlayson, 537-8; with
Anderson, 538; with Helmcken,
538-9; with Evans, 542; with
Brown, 544; fire in 1873, 572-3;
newspaper collection of, 574-5;
Draper's letter to, 579; Holmes',
579-80; literary method, 592-617,
682-9; retires from business, 608-
10; correspondence with Swan,
620-1; with Gonzalez, 624-5; with
Brioso, 625; with Cuadra, 626;
with Barrios, 626; with Dwyer,

632-7; with Taylor, 637-9; with
Pratt, 637-8; Richards' visit to,
639-40; correspondence with Sand-
ers, 641-2; trip to Mex., 1883-4,
700-51; 1887, 751; meeting with
Diaz, 732, 739; with Morgan, 734;
with Altamirano, 734; with Paz,
734-5; with Torres, 735; with Sosa,
735; with Palacio, 735; with Her-
nandez yDavalos, 736; with Garay,
738; with Iglesias, 738; with Icaz-
balceta, 738-9; 'Chronicles of the
Kings,' 753; trip to Utah, Col. and
New Mex., 1884-5, 759-63; invest-
ments in San Diego, 769-71, 789-
90; farm at Walnut Creek, 770;
fire in 1886, 772-4; efifect of fire,
etc., 775-87; business re-organi-
zation, 788-97.

Bancroft, K., education, 326, 458;
liter, labors of, 458-9; trip to
Southern Cal., 478, 484; to Mex.,
700.

Bancroft, Mrs., nee Howe, see Howe,
L. D.

Bancroft, Mrs., nee Ketchum, see
Ketchum, E.

Bancroft, Mrs., nee Griffing, see
Griffing, M.

Bancroft, J., mention of, 47.

Bancroft, M., mention of , 112.

Bancroft, N., mention of, 47.

Bancroft, R., mention of, 47.

Bancroft, S., mention of, 47; char-
acter, 48.

Bancroft, S. W., mention of, 47.

Bancroft, W. B., mention of, 202;
manager of The Bancroft Co., 796-
7.

Bancroft Company, organization of
The, 796.

Bandini, Gen. , material furnished by,
488-90.

Bandini, Senora, mention of, 488.

Barientos, M., biog., 276.

Barnes, J. C, relations with Ban-
croft, 146-7.

Barrios, J. R., correspondence with
Bancroft, 626.

Barroeta, Dr, mention of, 702.

Bates, A., biog., 267.

Begbie, Sir M. B., courtesy, etc., of,
530-1.

Benson, W. H., at Bancroft's Library,
272, 588.

Biblioteca Nacional, Mexico, descript.
of, 740-6.

Blanchet, Father, mention of, 543.

Blerzy, H., reviews 'Native Races,*
360.

INDEX

801

Bliss, P. C, character, etc., of, 328-

30; relations with Bancroft, etc.,

330-3, 339, 349-50; book-collection

of, 347.
Bluxome, I., material furnished by,

etc., 658-60.
Bokkelen, Major, material furnished

by, 540.
Bonilla, Senora, courtesy of, 528.
Booth, information furnished by, 541.
Bosquetti, career of, 220-1.
Bot, Father, courtesy of, 526.
Botello, N., dictation of, 527.
Bowman, A., mention of, 273; in

Bancroft's employ, 540-1.
Brady, information furnished by, 554.
Brewer, Professor, mention of, 328.
Briggs, L. H., material furnished by,

540.
Brioso, Minister, correspondence with

Bancroft, 625.
British Columbia, material for hist.

of, 530-40, 549.
Brockhaus, F. A., publishers 'Native

Races, ' 360.
Brown, J., agent for ' Native Races, '

354-5.
Brown, J. H. , material furnished by,

544, 550.
Brown Valley, mining in, 1852, 126,
Browne, J. R., mention of, 313.
Browne, R., reviews ' Native Races',

323-4.
Bryant, W. C, letter to Bancroft,

351.
Buckingham, W., material furnished

by, 535.
Buffalo Historical Society, Bancroft

hon. member of, 361.
Burgos, bookstores of, 184.
Butler, J. L., material furnished by,

540.

California, condition of, 1856, 8-9;
development, etc., of, 9-11; litera-
ture in, 12-41, 173^; effect of cli-
mate, 24-7; migration to, 57-8;
overtrading in, 124; mining in, 124-
7; credit of, 146-7; effect of civil
war on, 154-5; material for hist.
of, 383-443, 468-529, 618-20, 631,
647-9, 744-6; archives of, 468-83.

'California Inter Pocula,' mention of,
650 2.

'California Pastoral', mention of,
650.

Camping, descript. of, 693-5.

Carlyle, Thomas, quotation from, 36.

Lit. Ind. 51

Carr, W. J., mention of, 272.

Carrillo, P., papers, etc., of, 525.

Cassidy, Father, material furnished
by, 434.

Castro, M., material obtained from,
etc., 415-26, 430.

Cazeneuve, F. G., mention of, 738.

Ceballos, J., mention of, 738.

Central America, material for hist,
of, 623-31.

Cerruti, E., biog., etc., of, 365-76; in
Bancroft's employ, 365-76, 383-444;
negotiations, etc., with Gen. Val-
lejo, 383-95; 'Ramblings' MS.,
400-5; intercourse with Gov. Alva-
rado, 410-1.3, 417-27; with Castro,
416-24; with Valleio, 428-39; death
of, 444-5.

Chadwick, Gov. S. F., mention of,
542.

Charles, W., material furnished by,
535.

Chimalpopoca, A., meeting with
Bancroft, etc., 735-6.

Cholula, descript. of, 748-50.

* Chronicles of the Builders, ' plan pre-
sented, 753-9.

Church, J, A,, reviews, 'Native
Races', 351.

Clarke, Mrs. S. A., mention of, 545.

Clarke, Rev. J. F., mention of, 338.

Climate, effect of on liter, work, 24-7.

Cohen, Miss, information furnished
by, 554.

Coleman, H. R., material collected
by, 353.

Coleman, W. T., material furnished
by, 660.

Colley, connection with The Bancroft
Co., 796.

Colorado, material for hist, of, 761-2.

Comapala, Father, meeting with Ban-
croft, etc., 496.

Compton, P. N., dictation of, 533-4.

Cook, Capt., in Alaska, 1758, 557.

Cooke, W. B., partnership with
Kenny, 1852, 134-5, 141.

Copperthwaite, T. M., biog., 269-70.

Corbaley, R. C, mention of, 628.

Corona, R. V., mention of, 275.

Coronel, I., papers of, 510, 525.

Cosmos, A. de, mention of, 535.

Coutts, C. J. , information furnished
by, 485, 490.

Crane, Dr, kindness of, 527.

Crease, Justice, mention of, 548.

Crescent City, descript. of, 1853, 136-
40.

Crowell & Fairfield, Bancrofts con-
nection with, 1853-4, 137-8, 140.

802

INDEX.

Cuadra, President, correspondence

of, G25-6.
dishing, C, sale of library, 194.

Damon, S. E., material furnished

by, 6.31.
Dana C, courtesy of, 528.
Davidson, G., anecdote of, 314.
Dawkins, W. B., correspondence with

Bancroft, 359.
Deady, M. P., dictation of, 546.
Deans, J., dictation of, 534.
Dempster, material furnished by,

etc., 657-61.
Denny, A. , information furnished by,

541.
Derby, G. H., mention of, 89, 99,

111; character, etc., 113-14, 117-18;

business ventures, 117-19; death

of, 132; estate, 133-5.
Derby, J. C, mention of, .347.
Derby, Mrs., marriage of, 88; decease

of husband, 1852, 132-3; relations

with Bancroft, 143-6.
Deschamps, remarks on the Andra-

de collection, 189-90.
Diaz, President P., Bancroft's meet-
ing with, 732, 739; manuscript of,

739; career, etc., of, 739-40.
Dibblee, material furnished by, 528.
Dominguez, D., material furnished

by, 528.
Dorland,T. A. C, connection with The

Bancroft Co., 796.
Douglas, J. D., material furnished

by, 534.
Douglas, Lady, mention of, 530, 534.
Dowell, B. F., mention of, 548.
Downey, Gov., mention of, 489.
Draper, Dr, meeting with Bancroft,

etc., 345-6, 579.
Dry Creek, mining on, 1852, 126-7.
Dwyer, J., correspondence with Ban-
croft, 632-7.

E

Earhart, R. P., material furnished
by, 543.

Education, discussion on, 104^5.

Egan, J., kindness of, 527.

Eldridge, biog., 276.

Elliott, Minister, meeting with Ban-
croft, etc., 530-3.

Ellison, S. , material furnished by, 763.

Elwyn, T., material furnished by,
533.

Emerson, R. W., meeting with Ban-
croft, 339.

Estudillo, J. M., dictation of, 526.

Etholine, Gov., courtesy of, 623.

Evans, E., material furnished by,
542, 620.

Ezquer, I., dictation of, 528.

Fages, Gov. P. , works of, 442.
Fall, J. C, mention of, 125.
Farrelly, Father, material furnished

by, 528.
Farwell, S., material furnished by,

535.
Fernandez, Capt., mention of, 406.
Fernandez, Dr R., mention of, 738.
Field, Judge, meeting with Bancroft,

461.
Fierro, F., mention of, 426.
Finlayson, R., manuscript of, 534,

5.37-8.
Fisher, W. M., at Bancroft's library,

235-6; biog., 261-3.
Fitch, Mrs, material furnished by,

439.
Fitzsimons, Father, information fur-
nished by, 626.
Flores, J. M. , meeting with Cerruti,

etc., 404-5.
Ford, manuscript of, 648.
Foster, J., intormation furnished by,

485.
Foster, S. C, mention of, 493-6.
Fremont, Gen. J. C, meeting with

Bancroft, 4G0-1; negotiations with

Marriott, etc., 642-5.
Fremont, Mrs, meeting with Ban-
croft, 460-1; correspondence with

Marriott, 643-4.
Frisbie, Gen., material promised by,

437.
Fuentes y Muniz, J. , mention of, 738.
Fuller, F., ability, etc., of, 237-8;

biog., 259-61.

G

Galan, Gov., at Bancroft's library,

273, 563-4.
* Galaxy ', review of ' Native Races ',

351.
Galindo, C. , mention of, 434.
Galindo, E., dictation of, 524.
Garay, F. de, meeting with Bancroft,

etc., 738.
Garcia, I., dictation of, 528.
Gilman, D. C, proposes removal of

library, 320-1; review of 'Native

INDEX.

803

Haces ', 321-3; correspondence with
Bancroft, 356.

Gilmour, J. H., in Bancroft's employ,
272, 587-8. "^ ^

* Globus ', review of * Native Races ',
358.

Godkin, meeting with Bancroft, etc.,
346, 349.

Goldschmidt, A., at Bancroft's li-
brary, 235, 563, 571-5.

Gomez, A., material collected by,
523-4.

Gomez, V. P., biog., 274; at Ban-
croft's library, 274-5.

Gonzalez, Father, meeting with Ban-
croft, 505.

Gonzalez, President, correspondence
with Bancroft, 624-5.

Gonzalez, R., dictation of, 528.

Good, Rev., manuscript of, 536.

Granville, Ohio, settlement of, 56-9;
descript. of, 80-7.

Gray, l3r. A., meeting with Ban-
croft, 328, 334.

Griffin, G. B., biog., 273.

Griffing, M., character, etc., of, 456-
8; marriage with H. H. Bancroft,
457-60, liter, labors, 458-9; jour-
nal, 461; arrival in San Francisco,
465-6; trip to Northern Cal., 1878,
530-49; material obtained by, 535-
6; trip to Utah, etc., 1884-5, 759-63.

Greenbaum, courtesy of, 557.

Grover, Senator, dictation of, 545.

H

Hale, E. E., correspondence with

Bancroft, etc., 340.
Haller, information furnished by, 541.
Hamilten, quotation from, 684.
Hancock, S., manuscript of, 540.
Hansford, Mrs A. J. manuscript of, 541
Harcourt, T. A., biog., 264-5.
Harris, courtesy of, 530.
Hartnell, W., papers of, 430-1; biog.,

430-1.
Harvey, Mrs, mention of, 542.
Hawes, Father, kindness of, 524.
Hawthorne, Dr J. C, mention of, 543.
Hawthorne, N., mention of, 14.
Hayes, Judge B., Bancroft's visit to,

478-84; collection, etc., of, 478-84,

509-12, 527, 571-2; correspondence

with Bancroft, 510-12.
Heber, R., library of, 177.
Helmcken, Dr, material furnished by,

533; appearance, etc., of, 538-9.
Helps, Sir A., correspondence with

Bancroft, 357.

Hernandez y Ddvalos, J. E., collec-
tion, etc., of, 736-7.

Hibben, T. N., courtesy of, 5.30.

Higgmson, T. W., correspondence
with Bancroft, etc., 341-2.

Hill, N. D., material furnished by, 540

Hill, information furnished by, 541.

Hills, G., material furnished by, 535.

Hdlyer, E., character, etc., of, 98-9.

History Building, erection, etc., of
The, 789, 796.

History Company, organization of Ihe,
789-90. ■ ' ^

' History of the Pacific States,' appre-
ciation of the, 12-15; inception of
work, 166-74; books collected for,
173-97, 347, 351-3, 478-561, 618-40,
702-63; preparation of material,
231-43, 581- 5; scope of work, 278-
9, 280-8; introd. to, 288, 291 ; name
of work, 315-16; manuscripts pro-
cured for, 383-443, 461-5, 487-90,
494-561, 628^9, 739, 761-2; ar-
chives, 468-83, 493-529, 543-4,
558, 628, 701-2, 736, 740-7, 7(53;
printing and publication, 586-91,
790-3.

Holmes, 0. W., correspondence with
Bancroft, etc., 339-40, 579-80.

Hopkins, R. C, custodian of Cal.
archives, 469.

Horton, information furnished by, 541.

Houghton, H. 0., & Co., publish.
' Native Races, ' 336.

Howard, Col, courtesy of, 495-

Howe, C, biog., etc., of, 51, 54-5.

Howe, E., mention of, 54.

Howe, J., biog., 54.

Howe, L. D., biog., etc., of, 50, 59-64.

Ho wells, meeting with Bancroft, etc.,
339, 349-50.

Hudson's Bay company, employes of,
531.

Hunt, partnership with Bancroft &
Co., 1856, 149.

I

Icazbalceta, J. G., library, etc., of,

738-9.
Iglesias, President, meeting with

Bancroft, 738.
'Independent/ reviews, 'Native

Races,' 362.
Index, plan of, 238-40; results from,

241; a universal index, 243.
Innokentie, Bishop, courtesy of, 623.

Jackson, E., mention of, 358.

804

INDEX.

Jansenns, A., dictation of, 528.
Johnson, C. R., mention of, 489.
Johnstone, M., marriage of, 327.
Jones, C. C, jun., reviews 'Native

Races, ' 362.
Journalism, influence, etc., of, 31-40.
Juarez, Capt. C, material promised

by, 437-8.

K

Kasherarof, Father, information fur-
nished by, 554.

Kellog, Miss, information by, 554.

Kelly, in Bancroft's employ, 512.

Kemp, A., biog., 2C7-8.

Kenny, G. L., character, etc., of,
117-18; voyage to Cal., 1852, 119-
21; partnership with Cooke, 134-5,
141; with Bancroft, 147-8, 154.

Ketchum, E., marriage of, 151^.

King, C, character of, 348; meeting
with Bancroft, etc., 348-9; reviews
* Native Races,' 350, correspondence
with Bancroft, 350-1.

Klinkofstrom, M., mention of, 621.

Knight, W. H., *Hand Book Alma-
nac, 173; connection with Bancroft's
firm, 173, 218-19.

* Kolnische Zeitung, ' reviews * Native
Races,' 358.

Kraszewski, M., dictation of, 526.

*La Republique Francaise,' reviews

* Native Races, ' 360.
Labadie, biog., 275.
Lacy, Rev^, at Crescent City, 138.
Lane, Gen. J., material furnished by,

543, 547.
Lansdale, M., information furnished

by, 541.
Larkin, A., mention of, 436.
Larkin, H., mention of, 273.
Larkin, T. 0., biog., 435; documents,

etc., of, 435-6.
Latham, Dr, correspondence with

Bancroft, 356.
Lawson, J. S., manuscript of, 540.
*Le Temps,' reviews 'Native Races,'

360.
Lecky, W. E. H., correspondence

witii Bancroft, 356.
Lefevre, H., correspondence of, 627.
Levashef, Capt., in Alaska, 1768, 557.
Library, the Bancroft, descript. of,

198-244; plans and cuts, 198, 200-

1, 203-5, 207, 209, 211; staff, 245-76.
Literature, evolution of, 4-8; in Cal.,

12-41; effect of climate on, 24-7;

of wealth, 27-30; of journalisuv,

31-40.
Lombardo, A., mention of, 738.
London, book collections of, 181-3.
Long, T. H., in Bancroft's employ,

531.
Longfellow, H. W., correspondence

with Bancroft, etc., 336-8.
Longmans & Co., agents for 'Native

Races,' 354.
Lorenzana, A., dictation of, 528.
Love joy, A. L., dictation of, 546.
Lowell, J. R., meeting with Bancroft,

etc., 335.
Lubbock, Sir J. , ' Native Races ' dedi-
cated to, 355.
Lubiensky, Count, mention of, 399.
Lugo, J., papers of, 525.
Liitke, Admiral, courtesy of, 623.

M

Madrid, bookstores of, 184.

Maisonneuve et Cie, publish ' Native
Races,' 360.

Malarin, J., mention of, 647-8.

Manero, V. E., mention of, 738.

Manuscripts, Gen. Vallejo's, 388-433;
Capt. Fernandez', 406; Gov. Alva-
rado's 408-27; Castro's 415-26;
Pico's 426, 525; Estudillo's, 427,
526; Thompson's, 429; Hartnell's,
430-1; J. de J. Vallejo's, 433-5;
Larkin's, 435-6; Capt. Juarez', 437-
8; Gen. Sutter's 461-5, 524; Gen.
Bandini's, 487-90; Warner's, 494-5,
525; Judge Sepulveda's, 495; Wid-
ney's, 495; Valdes', 496-7, 528;
Arnaz', 496-7, 528; Taylor's, 498-9;
Santa Barbara mission, 506-8;
Judge Hayes', 478-84, 509-12;
Guerra's, 517-22; Galindo's, 524;
Amador's, 524; Coronel's, 525; Re-
quena's, 525; Carrillo's, 525; Lugo's,
525; Wilson's, 526; Vega's, 526;
Perez', 526; Vejar's, 526; White's,
526; Romero's, 526; Foster's, 526;
Avila's, 526; Kraszewski's, 526;
Osuma's, 526; Botello's, 527; Valle's,
527-8; Ord's, 528; Jansenns', 528;
Lorenzana's, 528; Gonzalez', 528;
Nidever's, 528; Garcia's, 528;
Esquer's, 528; Sproat's, 533; Pem-
berton's, 533; Ash's, 533; Comp-
ton's, 534; Muir's, 534; Allen's, 534;
Deans', 534; Anderson's, 534-8; Tol-
mie's, 534; Finlayson's, 534, 537-8;
McKinlay's, 534; Charles', 535;
Good's, 536; Tod's, 536-7; McKin-
lay's 536-7; Swan's, 540; Bokke-

INDEX.

805

len's, 540; Lawsoii's, 540; Parker's,
541; Lane's, 543, 547; Grover's, 545;
Nesmitli's, 546; Moss', 546; Love-
joy's, 546; Bacon's, 546; Fonts', 546;
Judge Deady's, 546; Judge Strong's,
546; Ross', 547; Evans', 620; Pow-
ers', 621; Oslo's, 647-8; Ford's, 648;
Dempster's, 660; Bluxome's, 660;
Coleman's, 660; Diaz', 739; Wood-
ruff's, 761; Richards', 761; Stone's,
762.

Marriage, remarks on, 446-56.

Marriott, G., correspondence with
the Fremont's, 643-5.

Marvin, E., courtesy of, 530.

Martinez, M. F., mention of, 275-6.

Massachusetts Historical Society,
Bancroft, hon. member of, 361.

Mast, 0. L., material furnished by,
642.

Maximilian, Emperor, library, etc.,
of, 188.

Mayer, B., mention of, 313; meeting
with Bancroft, 461.

McAuley, L., material furnished by,
631.

Mclntyre, information furnished by,
554; mummy presented by, 555

McKay, material furnished by, 554.

McKinlay, A., manuscript, etc., of,
534-7.

McKinney, clerk, courtesy of, 524.

Melius, diary of, 527.

Mexico, libraries, etc., of, 185-91,
701-3, 735, 740-51; material for
hist, of, 627-8, 700-51; descript.
sketch of, 700-33; staging in, 707-
10; treasure trains, 711; haciendas,
711; agricult., 711-12; gambling,
etc., 724-5; marriage, 725-6; man-
ufact., 727-8; traffic, etc., 728-31;
superstition, 737.

Mexico, City, descript. of, 712-33;
libraries of, 740-7.

Minor, Dr T. , mention of, 540.

Minto, J., information furnished by,
545.

Minto, Mrs, information furnished
by, 545.

Mitropolski, Father, material fur-
nished by, 554.

Money, use and abuse of, 100-3.

Montana, material for hist, of, 641-2.

Montard, Father, material furnished
by, 557.

Morgan, Minister, Bancroft's meeting
with, 734.

Mora, Bishop, material furnished by,
525-6.

Moreno, Senora, material furnishod

by, 526-7.
Mormonism, 631-40, 759-61.
Morrison, G. H., biog., 795-6.
Morton, Mrs L., material furnished

by, 548.
Moss, S. W., dictation of, 546.
Muir, M., dictation of, 534.
Murray, E. F., employed by Judge

Hayes, 510-12; by Bancroft, 513-^

23; material collected by, 513-23,

528.
Mut, Father, courtesy of, 527.

N

Naranjo, Gen., mention of, 738.

' Nation, ' reviews ' Native Races, ' 351 .

' Native Races of the Pacific States, '
plan of the, 295-301; elaboration,
302-4; contents, 303; work on the,
304-5; publication, 306-26; reviews,
etc., 316-25, 338, 341-2, 350-1,
357-64; cuts, 569; type, etc., 569-
70; completion of, 579-81.

Nemos, W., at Bancroft's library,
238, 243, 290, 565, 587; biog., 251-
5.

Nesmith, J. W., manuscript, etc., of,
546.

New Mexico, material for hist, of,
628, 763.

Newkirk, E. P., biog., 268-9.

Nidever, dictation of, 528.

Nordhoflf, C, mention of, 12; meeting
with Bancroft, 346.

'North American Review,' on Ban-
croft's works, 338.

Northwest coast, material for hist, of,
620-1.

Nutchuks, legend of the, 555-6.

O

Oak, H. L., editor of the 'Occident,'
219; Bancroft's librarian, 220-4,
229, 234, 238, 243, 413, 424-5, 434,
474-7, 513-14, 563, 571, 587, 649;
biog., 246-51, 690-1; trip to south-
ern Cal., 478-508.

Oak, O. , at Bancroft's library, 235.

Oca, Bishop I. M. de, library of, 701.

Ogden, P. S., mention of, 537.

O'Keefe, Father, mention of, 505.

Olaguibel, Senor, 'Impresiones Cele-
bres,'748.

Olvera, A., meeting with Bancroft,
etc., 492-3.

Olvera, C, collection of, 529.

Ord, Mrs, dictation of, 528.

806

INDEX.

Oregon, material for hist, of, 541-51,

620-631.
Ortega, Senor, library of, 701.
Osio, manuscript. of, 647-8.
Osuma, J., dictation of, 626.
'Overland Monthly,' reviews, etc., of

Bancroft's works, 314-15, 319-24.

Pacheco, Gen. C. , mention of, 738.
Palacio, V. R., library, etc., of, 735.
Palfrey, J. G., meeting with Bancroft,

etc., 332-3.
Palmer, G., mention of, 132.
Palmer, H., death of, 132.
Palmer, Gen. J., dictation of, 545-6.
Palmer, Mr?, nee Bancroft, see Ban-
croft, E.
Palou, Father F., works of, 411, 441.
Parker, Capt., dictation of, 541.
Park man, F., reviews Bancroft's

works, etc., 338.
Pariser, James A., mention of, 798.
Parrish, missionary labors of, 545.
Pavlof, information furnished by,

554-5.
Paz, I., mention of, 734-5.
Peatfield, J. J., biog., 265-7.
Pemberton, J. D., material furnished

by, 533.
Peralta, F., Cerruti's meeting with,

etc., 400-1.
Perez, A., dictation of, 526.
Petrofif, I., biog., 270-2; trip to Alaska,
551-61; material procured by, 553-61 .
Pettigrove, material furnished by,

540.
Phelps, S., mention of, 50-1.
Philadelphia Numismatic Society,

Bancroft hon. member of, 361.
Phillips, W. , meeting and correspond-
ence with Bancroft, etc., 336-7.
Pico, A., pleasantry, 490-3.
Pico, C, material furnished by, 528.
Pico, J. de J., courtesy of, 528.
Pico, J. P., material furnished by,

426.
Pico, M. I., courtesy of, 528.
Pico, P., dictation of, 525.
Pina, M., at Bancroft's library, 275.
Pin art, A. L., material furnished by,

621-2, 627; biog., 622.
Pinto, R., collection of, 529.
Plummer, material furnished by, 540.
Pomeroy, T. S., mention of, 139-41.
' Popular Tribunals,' preparation, etc.,

of the, 655-63.
Porter, President, meeting with Ban-
croft, 348.

Powell, Major, meeting with Ban-
croft, 461.

Powers, S. , manuscript of, 621 .

Pratt, G., character, etc., of, 48.

Pratt, O., correspondence, etc., with
Bancroft, 637-8.

Prieto, meeting with Bancroft, 738.

Pryor, P., kindness of, 527.

Puebla, City, libraries, etc., of, 748-
51.

R

Railroads, overland, effect of, on busi-
ness, 164-5.
Ramirez, J. F., sale of library, 194-

6.
Read, E., agent for 'Native Races,'

353-4.
* Record Union, ' article on Bancroft's

collection, 316.
Requena, M., papers of, 525.
Revilla Gigedo, Count, collection

made by, 742-3.
' Revue Britannique, ' on * Native

Races, ' 360.
'Revue Litteraire et Politique,' on

'Native Races,' 360.
Richards, F. D., visit to Bancroft,

etc., 1880, 630-1.
Ricliards, Gov., mention of, 530;

meeting with Bancroft, etc., 532.
Rico, F., mention of, 523.
Ripley, G., mention of, 346.
Rivas, A. M., material furnished by,

626.
Robinson, A., mention of, 489.
Robson, J., material furnished by,

535.
Rollins, H. G., mention of, 471.
Romero, J. M., dictation of, 526.
Romo, Father, appearance of, 505;

meeting with Bancroft, 505-8;

material furnished by, 505-8, 515-

18.
Rosborough, J. B., mention of, 548.
Roscoe, F. J., material furnished by,

535.
Ross, J. E., dictation of, 547.
Roussel, Father, courtesy of, 528.
Rubio, J., mention of, 741.
Rubio, M. R., character, etc., of,

739.

Salas, J. M. de, mention of, 743.
San Fernando College, archives at,

468, 473.
San Francisco, descript. of, 1852, 121-

3.

INDEX.

807

San Luis Potosi, state library of,
702-3.

Sanchez, J., mention of, 738-9.

Sanders, W. F., correspondence with
Bancroft, 641-2.

Sargent, Senator A. A., mention of,
352.

Savage, T., biog., 255-9; Bancroft's
assistant, 470-3, 523-9; material
collected by, 523-9.

Sawyer, C. H., mention of, 435.

Schiefner, A., courtesy of, 621-2.

* Scribner's Monthly, ' reviews * Native
Races,' 341-2.

Scudder, meeting with Bancroft, etc.,
336.

Seghers, Bishop, material furnished
by, 557.

Selva, C. , material furnished by, 625.

Sepillveda, Judge, mention of, 489,
manuscript of, 495.

Serra, Father J., mention of, 441;
sketch of San Diego mission, 480.

Shashnikof, Father I., material fur-
nished by, 557-9.

Short, Gen. P., mention of, 431.

Siliceo, L., mention of, 738.

Simpson, S. L., mention of, 274.

Sladen, Col, material furnished by,
543.

Smith, 0., mention of, 555.

Soberanes, in Bancroft's employ, 415-
23.

Society of California Pioneers, ma-
terial furnished by, 619.

Sola, Gov. P. V. de, mention of, 442.

Sosa, F., mention of, 735.

Spaulding, Rev. H. H., works of, 551.

Spencer, H., correspondence with
Bancroft, 356, 362.

Spencer, W. G., material furnished
by, 540.

Spofford, meeting with Bancroft, etc.,
351-2, 461.

Sproat, G. M., manuscript of, 533.

Squier, E. G., library of, 193-4; col-
lection purchased by Bancroft, 629-
31.

Ssootchetnees, legend of the, 555-6.

Stanton, E. M., mention of, 469.

Stafeifk, information furnished by,
554.

Stearns, Mrs, mention of, 488.

Stevens, H., library of, 193; mate-
rials procured by, 196.

Stewart, G. W., material furnished
by, 631.

Stone, Judge, manuscript of, 762.

Stone, N. J., manager of publishing

department, 586-7, 790, 793-5;

biog., 793-4.
Strong, Judge W., mention of, 542;

dictation of, 546.
Stuart, G., material furnished by, 641.
Sutter, Gen. J. A., Bancroft's visit

to, 461-5; manuscript furnished by,

465.
Swan, Judge J. G., material fur-
nished by, 540; correspondence

with Bancroft, 620-1.

Tams, S. , 'mention of, 436.

Taylor, Dr A. S., Bancroft's visit to,
497-503; collection and works of,
498-506.

Taylor, J., correspondence with Ban-
croft, etc., 637-9, 760.

Thompson, materials furnished by,
429.

Thornton, J. Q., mention of, 545.

'Times' (London), reviews 'Native
Races', 358.

Tod, J., manuscript, etc., of, 536-7.

Tolmie, W. F., manuscript of, 534.

Toluca, library of, 747.

Toro, J. , mention of, 738.

Torres, V. G., journal, etc., of, 735.

Tourgee, A. W., mention of, 767-8.

Trevett, M., marriage of, 154.

Trevett, Mrs, nee Bancroft, see Ban-
croft, M.

Truman, Major, mention of, 489.

Turner, L., information furnished by,
557.

Tuthill, F., 'History of California',
311.

Tylor, E. B., correspondence with
Bancroft, 359-60.

U

Ubach, Father, collection, etc., of,

485.
Utah, material for hist, of, 631-41,

759-61.

Valdes, R., dictation of, 496-7, 528.

Vallarta, F. L., mention of, 738.

Valle, I. del, dictation, etc., of, 527-8.

Vallejo, I., biog., 440-2.

Vallejo, J. de J., dictation, etc., of,
433-5.

Vallejo, Gen. M. de G., biog. etc., of,
376-82; Bancroft's negotiation?,
etc., with, 383-99; 'Historia de

INDEX.

California' MS., 396-8, 428-43;
tour of, 405-6; negotiations, etc.,
with Alvarado, 408-12; 'Recuerdos
Historicos' MS., 413; correspon-
dence with Bancroft, 416-17, 429-
32, 436-43; intercourse with Cer-
ruti, 428-39.

Vallejo, Major S., mention of, 387-8.

Vega, Gen. P., material furnished
by, 627-8.

Vega, V. dictation of, 526.

Vejar, P., dictation, etc., of, 526.

Veniaminof, I., courtesy of, 623.

Victor, Mrs F. F., nee Fuller, see
Fuller, F.

Vigil, J. M., mention of, 738, 740.

Vila, Father J. , Bancroft's visit to,
503-4.

Villarasa, Father, material furnished
by, 626-7.

Vowel, A. W., material furnished
by, 533.

W

Walden, J., catalogue prepared by
181, 196-7.

Waldo, D., mention of, 544-5.

Walker, J , relations with Bancroft,
327.

Warner, 0. D., introduction to Ban-
croft, etc., 328, 363.

Warner, J. J., Tleminiscences', 494-5.

Watts, F., marriage of, 155.

Watts, Judge J. S., mention of, 155.

Welch, C, at Bancroft's library, 272.

West, Capt. , mention of, 406.

Whitaker, J., mention of, 181; books
purchased by, 190-2; correspon-
dence with Bancroft, 195-7.

White E. , material furnished by, 543.

White M., dictation of, 526.

Whittier, J. G., meeting with Ban-
croft, etc., 3.37-8.

Whymper, F., mention of, 313.

Widney, R. M., manuscript of, 495.

Wilghtnee, legend of, 556.

Willey, Dr H. S., courtesy of, 648.

Wilson, B. D., dictation of, 526.

Winsor, J., 'Narrative and Critical
History of America', 764-8.

Woodruff, W., material furnished
by, 760-1.

Wyoming, material for hist, of, 762-3.

Yesler, information furnished by, 541.
Yndico, J., mention of, 738.

Zakharof, information furnished by,

554.
Zaldo, R. de, mention of, 399.

I 3 » -^ \ -^ -^ I

13