This is not a book on “The Land,” but two or three stories of Californian life in the early days may, however, be forgiven. The first is of a man who had just landed from a ship, and who offered a somewhat seedy-looking customer, lounging on the wharf, a dollar to carry his portmanteau. He got the reply, “I’ll give you an ounce of gold to see you carry it yourself.” The new arrival thought he had come to a splendid country, and shouldered his burden like a man, when the other, a successful gold-finder, not merely gave him his ounce—little less than £4 sterling—but treated him to a bottle of champagne, which cost another ounce. The writer can well believe the story, for he paid two and a half dollars—nearly half a guinea—for an Illustrated London News, and two dollars for a copy of Punch, in the Cariboo mines, in 1863; while a friend—now retired on a competency in England—started a little weekly newspaper, the size of a sheet of foolscap, selling it for one dollar (4s. 2d.) per copy. He was fortunately not merely a competent writer, but a practical printer. He composed his articles on paper first, and then in type; worked the press, delivered them to his subscribers, collected advertisements and payments, and no doubt would have made his own paper—if rags had not been too costly!
A sailor purchased, about the year 1849, in an auction-room, while out on a “spree,” the lots of land on which the Plaza, one of the most important business squares of San Francisco, now stands. He went off again, and after several years cruising about the world, returned to find himself a millionaire. The City Hall stands on that property; it is surrounded by offices, shops, and hotels, and very prettily planted with shrubs, grass-plots, and flowers.
There was a period when females were so scarce in California that the miners and farm-hands, ay, and farmers and proprietors too—a large number of these were old sailors—would travel any distance merely to see one.[105] At this present time any decent English housemaid receives twenty dollars (£4) per month, and is “found,” while a superior servant, a first-class cook, or competent housekeeper, gets anything from thirty dollars upwards.
Theatres at San Francisco were once rude buildings of boards and canvas, and the stalls were benches. A story is told that at a performance at such a house quite a commotion was caused by the piercing squall of a healthy baby—brought in by a mother who, perhaps, had not had any amusement for a year or two, and most assuredly had no servant with whom to leave it at home—which was heard above the music. “Here, you [pg 160]fiddlers,” roared out a stalwart man in a red shirt and “gum” boots, just down from the mines, “stop that tune; I haven’t heard a baby cry for several years; it does me good to hear it.” The “one touch of nature” made that rough audience akin, and all rose to their feet, cheering the baby, and insisting that the orchestra must stop, and stop it did until the child was quieted. Then a collection was made—not of coppers and small silver, but of ounces and dollars—to present the child with something handsome as a souvenir of its success.
THE BAY OF SAN FRANCISCO.
San Francisco, as the most important commercial emporium and port of the whole Pacific, has a particular interest to the “man of the sea.” It has societies, “homes,” and bethels for his benefit, and a fine marine hospital. At the Merchants’ Exchange he will find the latest shipping-news and quotations, while many public institutions are open to him, as to all others. Above all, he will find one of the most conscientious and kind, as well as influential, of British Consuls there—and how often the sailor abroad may need his interference, only the sailor and merchant knows—who is also one of the oldest in H.B.M. consular service. No matter his sect, it is represented; San Francisco is full of churches and chapels. If he needs instruction and literary entertainment, he will get it at the splendid Mercantile Library, or admirably-conducted Mechanics’ Institute. There is a capital “Art Association,” with hundreds of members. He will find journalism of a new type: [pg 161]“live,” vigorous, generous, and semi-occasionally vicious. The papers of San Francisco will, however, compare favourably with those of any other American city, short of New York and Boston. The sailor will find the city as advanced in all matters pertaining to modern civilisation, whether good or bad, as any he has ever visited. The naval officer will find admirable clubs, and if of the Royal Navy will most assuredly be put on the books of one or more of them for the period of his stay. He will find, too, that San Francisco hospitality is unbounded, that balls and parties are nowhere better carried out, and that the rising generation of California girls are extremely good-looking, and that the men are stalwart, fine-looking fellows, very unlike the typical bony Yankee, who, by-the-by, is getting very scarce even in his own part of the country, the New England States.
If Jack has been to China, he will recognise the truth of the fact that parts of San Francisco are Chinese as Hong Kong itself. There are Joss-houses, with a big, stolid-looking idol sitting in state, the temple gay with tinsel and china, metal-work and paint, smelling faintly of incense, and strongly of burnt paper. There are Chinese restaurants by the dozen, from the high-class dining-rooms, with balconies, flowers, small banners and inscriptions, down to the itinerant restaurateur with his charcoal-stove and soup-pot. Then there are Chinese theatres, smelling strongly of opium and tobacco, where the orchestra sits at the back of the stage, which is curtainless and devoid of scenery. The dresses of the performers are gorgeous in the extreme. When any new arrangement of properties, &c., is required on the stage, the changes are made before your eyes; as, for example, placing a table to represent a raised balcony, or piling up some boxes to form a castle, and so forth. Their dramas are often almost interminable, for they take the reign of an emperor, for example, and play it through, night after night, from his birth to his death. In details they are very literal, and hold “the mirror up to nature” fully. If the said emperor had special vices, they are displayed on the stage. The music is, to European ears, fearful and wonderful—a mixture of discordant sounds, resembling those of ungreased cart-wheels and railway-whistles, mingled with the rolling of drums and striking of gongs. Some of the streets are lined with Chinese shops, ranging from those of the merchants in tea, silks, porcelain, and lacquered ware—a dignified and polite class of men, who are often highly educated, and speak English extremely well—to those of the cigar-makers, barbers, shoemakers, and laundry-men. Half the laundry-work in San Francisco is performed by John Chinaman. There is one Chinese hotel or caravanserai, which looks as though it might at a stretch accommodate two hundred people, in which 1,200 men are packed.
The historian of the future will watch with interest the advancing or receding waves of population as they move over the surface of the globe, now surging in great waves of resistless force, now peacefully subsiding, leaving hardly a trace behind. The Pacific Mail Steamship Company’s steamers have brought from China to San Francisco as many as 1,200 Chinamen—and, very occasionally, of course, more than that number—on a single trip. The lowest estimate of the number of Chinese in California is 70,000, while they are spread all over the Pacific states and territories, and, indeed, in lesser numbers, all over the American continent. One finds them in New England factories, New York laundries, and Southern plantations. Their reception in San Francisco used to be with brickbats and [pg 162]other missiles, and hooting and jeering, on the part of the lower classes of the community. This is not the place to enter into a discussion on the political side of the question. Suffice it to say that they were and still are a necessity in California, where the expense of reaching the country has kept out “white” labour to an extent so considerable, that it still rules higher than in almost any part of the world. The respectable middle classes would hardly afford servants at all were it not for the Chinese. All the better classes support their claims to full legal and social rights. The Chinamen who come to San Francisco are not coolies, and a large number of them pay their own passages over. When brought over by merchants, or one of the six great Chinese companies, their passage-money is advanced, and they, of course, pay interest for the accommodation. On arrival in California, if they do not immediately go to work, they proceed to the “Company-house” of their particular province, where, in a kind of caravanserai, rough accommodations for sleeping and cooking are afforded. Hardly a better system of organisation could be adopted than that of the companies, who know exactly where each man in their debt is to be found, if he is hundreds of miles from San Francisco. Were it possible to adopt the same system in regard to emigrants from this country, thousands would be glad to avail themselves of the opportunity of proceeding to the Golden State.
One little anecdote, and the Chinese must be left to their fate. It happened in 1869. Two Chinese merchants had been invited by one of the heads of a leading steamship company to visit the theatre, where they had taken a box. The merchants, men of high standing among their countrymen, accepted. Their appearance in front of it was the signal for an outburst of ruffianism on the part of the gallery; it was the “gods” versus the celestials, and for a time the former had it all their own way. In vain Lawrence Barrett, the actor, came forward on the stage to try and appease them. He is supposed to have said that any well-conducted person had a right to his seat in the house. An excited gentleman in the dress-circle reiterated the same ideas, and was rewarded by a torrent of hisses and caterwauling. The Chinamen, alarmed that it might result in violence to them, would have retired, but a dozen gentlemen from the dress-circle and orchestra seats requested them to stay, promising them protection, and the merchants remained. They could see that all the better and more respectable part of the house wished them to remain. After twenty or more minutes of interruption, the gallery was nearly cleared by the police, and the performance allowed to proceed. And yet the very class who are so opposed to the Caucasian complain that he does not spend his money in the country where he makes it, but hoards it up for China. The story explains the actual position of the Chinaman in America to-day. The upper and middle classes, ay, and the honest mechanics who require their assistance, support their claims; the lowest scum of the population persecute, injure, and not unfrequently murder them. Many a poor John Chinaman has, as they say in America, been “found missing.”