Near the centre of the town is a square, which, in common with many other things in the country, retains its Spanish appellation, and is called the “Plaza;â€� two sides of this are occupied by brick buildings, devoted solely to gambling. We have the “Verandah,â€� “Eldorado,â€� “Parker House,â€� “Empire,â€� “Rendez-vous,â€� and “Bella Union,â€� in one row. Most of these establishments belong to companies, for the amount of capital required is very large. One or two of the houses are under French superintendence; companies having been formed in Paris, who openly avowed their object in the prospectus they issued. On entering one of these saloons the eye is dazzled almost by the brilliancy of chandeliers and mirrors. The roof, rich with gilt-work, is supported by pillars of glass; and the walls are hung with French paintings of great merit, but of which female nudity forms alone the subject. The crowd of Mexicans, Miners, Niggers, and Irish bricklayers, through which with difficulty you force a way, look dirtier (although there is no need of this) from contrast with the brilliant decorations. Green tables are scattered over the room, at each of which sit two “monteâ€� dealers surrounded by a betting crowd. The centres of the tables are covered with gold ounces and rich specimens from the diggings, and these heaps accumulate very rapidly in the course of the evening, for “monte,â€� as played by these dexterous dealers, leaves little chance for the staker to win. The thin Spanish cards alone are used, and although the dealer is intently watched by a hundred eyes, whose owners, in revenge for having lost, would gladly detect a cheat, and fall upon him and tear him to pieces, yet are these eyes no match for his dexterous fingers, and the savage scrutiny with which he is assailed as his partner rakes in the stakes produces no emotion on his pale unimpassioned face. The duty of a “monteâ€� dealer is one of great difficulty; although surrounded by a clamorous crowd, and the clang of music, his head is occupied by intricate calculations, his eyes are watchfully (though apparently carelessly) scanning the faces that surround his table, yet they appear to be rivetted to his cards; he has, in the presence of vigilant observers, to execute feats, the detection of which would cost him his life;—nightly almost he draws his revolver in self-defence;—and through all this he must never change a muscle of his face, and must be ready at all times to exercise a determined courage in resenting the mere suspicion of dishonesty on his part, if such is expressed incautiously by those about him.
There is no limit to the introductions one is subjected to in a Californian crowd;—if the “monteâ€� dealer rises from his chair, you will probably be introduced to him, and I had the honour of shaking hands with a murderer quite fresh from his work, who had been acquitted a day or two previously by bribing the judge, jury, and the witnesses against him. I should have declined the honour had I learnt his profession with his name, but custom insists on your shaking hands on being introduced to a fellow-mortal; and to refuse to do so is tacitly to deny one of the great principles of the model republic, which holds that “one man is as good as another;â€� and, as I heard a democratic Irishman observe, “a d—d sight better!â€�
Amidst all the din and turmoil of the crowd, and the noisy music that issues from every corner, two or three reports of a pistol will occasionally startle the stranger, particularly if they should happen to be in his immediate vicinity, and a bullet should (as is not uncommon) whistle past his head and crack the mirror on the other side of him. There is a general row for a few moments, spectators secure themselves behind pillars and under the bar; there is a general exclamation of “don’t shoot,â€� which means of course “don’t shoot till we get out of the way;â€� but after the first discharges the excitement settles down, and the suspended games are resumed. A wounded man is carried out, but whether it is a “monteâ€� dealer who has shot a player, or one gentleman who has drawn on another gentleman, in the heat of altercation, one does not learn that night, but it will appear in the morning paper; if the former it will be headed “Murderous affray,â€� if the latter, “Unfortunate difficulty.â€� There are different names for the same thing, even in a democratic colony! The climate of California is very healthy;—there is a tendency in it to intermittent fever and ague in some parts of the mountains; but in the mines, sickness has generally resulted from imprudent exposure, and the drinking of the worst possible description of ardent spirits. On the sea coast and at San Francisco, the weather is very changeable during the summer months. When the sun rises and clears away the fog that hangs over the Bay, the air is as pure and transparent as that of Naples; by noon the glass is at 90°, and then the sea breeze sets in, and would be welcome, but that it does not fan one gently like other sea breezes, but bursts on you with the force of a hurricane, blows off a bit of the roof of your house, and sends the fine dust in whirling clouds along the street, in such a way that the people would profit by lying down flat on their stomachs, as they do in a regular Simoom! As the sun goes down the “doctorâ€� subsides, after having done a great deal of good in
HIGH AND DRY.
airing the town, which as yet is unprovided with sewers. Then there creeps in steadily a heavy, fat fog, which takes up its quarters in the Bay every night, and disappears as before mentioned when the sun rises—under whose influence it does’nt melt like other fogs, but goes out to sea, and watches the town gloomily, until it is time to come in again.
These varieties of temperature during some months are methodically regular, but are not productive of sickness of any kind. The front of the city is extending rapidly into the sea, as water-lots are filled up with the sand-hills which the steam excavators remove. This has left many of the old ships, that a year ago were beached as storehouses, in a curious position; for the filled-up space that surrounds them has been built on for some distance, and new streets run between them and the sea, so that a stranger puzzles himself for some time to ascertain how the “Apolloâ€� and “Nianticâ€� became perched in the middle of a street, for although he has heard of ships being thrown up “high and dry,â€� he has probably sufficient nautical experience to observe that the degree of “heightâ€� and “drynessâ€� enjoyed by the “Apolloâ€� and “Nianticâ€� resulted from some other cause than the “fury of the gale.â€� Leaving San Francisco for the present to return to it again by-and-by and watch its growth and improvement, I got all ready for a start for Benicia, a little town on the Bay, from whence I intended to travel leisurely to Russian River. I had chosen this district as it abounded in game; and was in quite an opposite direction to the diggings—a visit to which I postponed until the ensuing summer, my object for the present being to encamp myself in some snug place in the mountains, and there live upon my gun, in all the enjoyment of a free life and the pleasures of the chase.
CHAPTER III.
BENICIA—BARNES—A MAD BLOODHOUND—HIS DEATH—GRASSHOPPERS—DON RAYMOND—A BLESSED CITY—WICKED MULES—“CAMPING OUTâ€�—NAPA—FOURTH OF JULY—AGRICULTURISTS—SONOMA—COMPETITION—AN IRASCIBLE BULL.