The residents of Chinatown have a government of their own, with its social and economic regulations, and its police and penal department, and they even inflict the death penalty, but in such a secret way that the outside world seldom hears of these acts of high authority. This social and commercial policy is controlled by six companies, to one of which every Chinaman in the country owes allegiance and is tributary. These companies severally represent different provinces in the Chinese Empire, and upon every arrival of a steamer from that country, and before the passengers are landed, the Chinese portion of them are visited by an official of the six companies, who ascertains what province each arriving coolie is from. That decides as to which company he will belong.
Every Chinaman who comes is assured of his return to China, or, if he is so unfortunate as to die while in exile, that his bones will be sent home. This very important matter is one of the duties of the six companies. This comforting assurance, however, is not shared in by the women, whom, excepting those who are the wives of men of the better class, are brought over by a vile class of traders, and sold as chattels, or slaves, having no relation to the six companies.
There is in the Chinese quarters a ghastly underground place, where the bones of the departed are conveyed, after they have remained a certain time in the ground. Here they are scraped, cleaned and packed, preparatory to their last journey back to the fatherland, and their final resting place. Among the Chinese residents of San Francisco there are comparatively few of those of the higher class. The difference between them and the masses is very pronounced, and they appreciate the difference to the fullest extent. They are educated, well-bred gentlemen. The coolie and lower class are an ignorant, repulsive and ill-mannered people. They seem to be mere brutes, and not a gleam of intelligence is apparent in their dull, expressionless faces.
The "Highbinders" are bound together by solemn obligations, and are the instruments used by other Chinamen to avenge their real or fancied wrongs. The Highbinders are organized into lodges or tongs, which are engaged in constant feuds with each other. They wage open warfare, and so deadly is their mutual hatred, that the war ceases only when the last individual who has come under the ban of a rival tong has been sacrificed. These feuds resemble the vendettas in some of the Southern States of Europe, and they defy all efforts of the police to suppress them. Murders are, consequently, frequent, but it is next to impossible to identify the murderers, and if a Chinaman is arrested on suspicion, or even almost positive evidence of guilt, the trial uniformly ends in a failure to convict.
The theatres are, to the visitor, probably the most interesting feature of the Chinese quarters. A few years ago there were several of these playhouses, but the number is now reduced to two. The charge of admission is 25 cents or 50 cents.
The white people who, out of curiosity, attend a performance, generally pay more, and are given more comfortable seats upon the stage. The stage is a primitive affair. It boasts of no curtain, footlights or scenery of any kind.
When, during the progress of a play, a man is killed, he lies upon the stage until the scene is ended, and then gets up and walks off. Sometimes an attendant will bring in and place under his head a small wooden pillow, so that the dead man may rest more comfortably. After an actor has been beheaded, he has been known to pickup the false head and apostrophize it while making his exit from the stage. The orchestra is at the back of the stage. It usually consists of one or two ear-splitting flageolets and a system of gongs and tom-toms, which keep up an infernal din during the entire performance.
Chinese plays are usually historical, and vary in length from a few hours to several months. The costumes are gorgeous after the Chinese ideas of splendor. No females are allowed on the stage at all, young men with falsetto voices invariably impersonating the women.
The restaurants of Chinatown are a very unsatisfactory feature of the unsavory quarter. Many of the laborers board at them, and the smaller ones are nothing in the world but miserable little chop-houses, badly ventilated and exceedingly objectionable, and, indeed, injurious to health and good morals. There are larger restaurants, which are more expensively equipped. Shakespeare's advice as to neatness without gaudiness is not followed. There is always a profusion of color in decoration, but there is never anything like symmetry or beauty.
There are an immense number of joss-houses in Chinatown. Each company has one of its own. Others belong to the societies, tongs and to private parties. The appointments of these temples are gorgeous in their way. One has recently been opened on Waverly Place, which far surpasses all the others in the grandeur of its sacred equipments and decoration. The idols, bronzes, carvings, bells, banners and the paraphernalia of the temple are said to have cost about $20,000, and represents the highest degree of Chinese art. In front of the throne in each of these temples, where the principal god is seated, burns a sacred flame that is never extinguished. In a cabinet at the right of the entrance is a small image called "the doorkeeper," who sees that no harm befalls the temple of those who enter.