All the more substantial articles of food, such as flour, meal, beef, pork, and butter, are imported from Europe or brought from the Atlantic States. As these provisions are sent around by Cape Horn, they must pass twice through the tropics before they arrive in San Francisco; consequently, most of them become more or less sour, musty, or rancid, which, as we all know, renders them not only repugnant to the palate, but also injurious to health. But, notwithstanding their transportation of from seventeen to twenty thousand miles upon the Atlantic and Pacific oceans, old or fresh, sound or unsound, they must be sold, served up, cooked, eaten. They cannot be wasted or thrown away, for that would be a losing business, and people did not come to California to lose money, but to make it; nor does it matter to them whether they make it by the sale of sweet flour or by the vending of putrid meats.
Sour flour is sold at reduced prices to the bakers, who mix it with a larger quantity—say twice as much—of that which is sweet; then it is manufactured into bread, delivered to the restaurants, and devoured by the populace. The flour put up by the Gallego and Haxall mills, of Richmond, Virginia, receives less damage in its transit through the torrid zone than any other—at least, this is the reputation it enjoys in California, those brands being more highly prized and more eagerly sought after by bakers and consumers. Next to the Richmond, the Fredericksburg and Georgetown flour is most in demand. How it is that the flour manufactured in the localities just named, or in the vicinity of those localities, retains its pure and primitive qualities better and longer than that produced at the North, which, with few exceptions, spoils on the way, I am unable to say—unless, perhaps, the latitude or climate imparts to it a healthier condition or a preservative principle.
Within the last one or two years, considerable quantities of the cerealia have been cultivated in the low lands and valleys of this State, and a few flouring mills have been erected, which are now in operation; but the proprietors mix their grists so much with rye and barley, that the flour is less marketable than it would be if it was ground out of genuine wheat. To give character to their spurious compound, they practice a double imposition, by packing it in empty Gallego and Haxall barrels, which are clandestinely purchased and kept in readiness for the purpose. Thus they steal the reputation of the Virginia brands; and, by placing their falsely-labeled, inferior flour in the hands of their rascally agents, they succeed in effecting large sales of it to those who are not particular in their examinations. Though the fraud is easily detected when the barrels are opened, there is no chance of obtaining redress; for, in most cases, these deceptions are carried out in such an indirect or complicated way, through factors and agents, that it is too difficult a matter to trace them to their source. If, however, the guilty parties are discovered, it amounts to nothing; because here, where the laws are so loosely and imperfectly administered, where all strong persons do as they please, and weak ones must do as they can, it costs more to adjust a wrong than it does to endure it.
This system of cheating and adulteration is carried out in all ramifications of business; and if a man is not continually upon the alert, he is sure to suffer the penalty of his negligence, by having a worse thing than he bargained for thrust upon him, and that, too, without redress.
To return from our digression: although the French are somewhat more philosophic and scientific in their preparation of viands, we perceive no material difference between their mode of living and our own. They eat more slowly, are more graceful in their deportment at table, and seem to enjoy their meals as a feast, rather than to devour them as a necessary repast. Wine is their principal drink, morning, noon and night; and dinner to them, without it, would be as insipid and unpalatable as breakfast to our American grand-mothers without coffee. After the main part of the meal is finished, it is customary with them to sip a small cup of strong coffee, as a sort of accompaniment to their dessert. This, however, they do not flavor with cream, as we do, but use Cognac, burnt with sugar, instead. It is an unusual thing for them to drink water at any time, except when mixed with wine. I have the pleasure of the acquaintance of a very worthy and estimable French gentleman, who assured me that he had taken but one drink of crude water in four years, “and then,� he added, “it make me sick.�
CHAPTER VI.
SAN FRANCISCO—CONCLUDED.
After a night’s lodging in one of the human-stables of San Francisco, called here, for politeness’ sake, hotels, we feel sufficiently refreshed to continue our reconnoissance of the city. It will probably be as well for us to retrace our steps to the south side of the Plaza, where we re-enter Clay street, and ascend the long, high hill that forms the western boundary of the city. Before proceeding far, we come to a pistol gallery, on the left, owned and conducted by one Dr. Natchez, a short, thick-set “son of thunder,â€� who keeps on hand the best assortment of dueling apparatus that the world affords. The proprietor’s real cognomen is, I think, Brown, Smith or Jones; but every body calls him Natchez, because he came from the town of that name in Mississippi. He knows all about guns, pistols, and ammunition; is an excellent shot—can hit a bull’s eye or a man’s eye every time he pulls a trigger; and never fails to vindicate his honor when it is assailed. In the opinion of the duelist, he is emphatically an honor-saving man; and in matters of personal difficulty and dispute, there is no one so capable of giving suitable advice, or so well prepared to supply the necessary instruments of polite slaughter, as Dr. Natchez.
Among the fiery spirits of this Western Metropolis, the slightest affront, even though it may be purely accidental, is considered a wound to dignity curable only by an application of Colt’s revolver to the breast of the transgressor; and as Dr. Natchez enjoys the reputation of preparing the best remedies for wounded honor, all those afflicted with the disorder apply to him for relief. Laying before him their ailments and grievances, he will at once say the cause must be removed; the offending party is waited upon with a challenge, which is accepted; and the Doctor, with commendable impartiality, superintends the preparation of the weapons for both parties.
Passing on towards the summit of the hill before us, we soon arrive at an elevation from which we have a clear and uninterrupted view of the whole city, which contains, it is supposed, from forty-five to fifty thousand inhabitants—about one-fifth of the entire population of the State. The original water-boundary of the city, on the east, was in the form of a crescent; but, the bay being shallow in this particular part, its shape has been changed, by filling it in with sand from the adjacent hills. Owing to the steep declivities of the original site of the city, this encroachment was demanded and effected by those engaged in commercial pursuits, who wanted level ground. The land thus made, being the most eligibly situated and convenient to the wharves, is far more valuable than that of natural formation. At first, however, heavy losses were sustained, in consequence of the insecure foundations of most of the buildings, some of which gave way entirely, and had to be reconstructed. Now, however, they understand it better, and take special care to pile and plank the foundation thoroughly before the superstructure is erected.
The process of filling up these water-lots was very irregular; and, as the work advanced, several ponds of water, which afterwards became stagnant, were cut off by these means from the ocean. In other places, the tide receded from the shallow parts of the bay, and from the surface thus left bare, as well as from the ponds last mentioned, there arose large quantities of highly offensive and almost suffocating gas, which obliterated all the painted signs in the immediate vicinity. Strange to say, the effluvium exhaled from these foul ponds and marshy places did not produce disease. The wind blew it off or counteracted its insalubrious effects.