The honour of having named the Gate, however, is generally conceded to General John C. Fremont. In his "Memoirs" he says: "To this Gate I gave the name of Chrysopylae or Golden Gate, for the same reasons that the harbour of Byzantium (Constantinople) was named the Golden Horn (Chrysoceras)." It has been hinted nevertheless that Sir Francis Drake gave it its appellation; and if this be so the euphonious name would be suggested by his ship in which he sailed along this coast, the Golden Hind. At first the ship bore the name of Pelican, but at Cape Virgins, at the entrance to the Straits of Magellan, Drake changed it to the Golden Hind, in honour of his patron Sir Christopher Hatton, on whose coat of arms was a Golden Hind. Not without interest do we follow the fortunes of this ship. When finally she was moored in her English port after her voyages, and was put out of commission as unseaworthy, and fell into decay, though guarded with care, John Davis, the English navigator, had a chair made out of her timbers, which he presented to the University of Oxford, still guarded sacredly in the Bodleian Library. No wonder that Cowley, while sitting in it, wrote his stirring lines, and apostrophised it as "Great Relic!" How noble this thought.
"The straits of time too narrow are for thee—
Launch forth into an undiscovered sea,
And steer the endless course of vast eternity;
Take for thy sail, this verse, and for thy pilot, me!"
Had we stood on these lofty shores by the Golden Gate in the early summer of 1579 we would have descried the Golden Hind ploughing the waters of the Pacific northward. Her course was as far north as latitude 42° on June 3rd. Owing, however, to the cold weather Drake returned southward to find a "convenient and fit harbour" for rest and refitting of the vessel; and, as one of the narrators of the voyage writes, "It pleased God to send us into a fair and good bay, with a good wind to enter the same." Was this what is known as Drake's Bay or popularly as Jack's Bay, southeast of Point los Reyes, or was it the Bay of San Francisco? Justin Winsor, in his Narrative and Critical History of America, and Hubert Howe Bancroft, in his History of California, discuss this matter in an exhaustive manner; and the reader after sifting all the evidence afforded, will still be free to form his own judgment. Some writers, wishing to give the glory to the Spaniards, arrive at conclusions hastily, though of course a name like that of Bancroft carries great weight and his arguments deserve the highest consideration. The question then is, Was the Golden Hind the first ship to cross the bar and pass through the Golden Gate, in the name of Queen Elizabeth of England? Or was it Juan Bautista de Ayala's ship, San Carlos, in August, 1775, in the name of Charles III. of Spain?
It seems to the writer that a man of Drake's discernment and perception and experience would not be likely to pass by the Golden Gate without seeing it and entering it. True, it may have been veiled in fog, such as you may see the trade winds driving into the Bay to-day often in the afternoon, but there are many hours when the Gate is clear and when it could hardly escape the notice of an experienced seaman. The intercourse of Drake with the Indians who crowned him as king, the services used on these shores out of the old Book of Common Prayer by "Master Fletcher," the Golden Hind's chaplain, the naming of the country Albion from its white cliffs in honour of Britain's ancient title, and the taking possession of it in the Queen's name, and many other interesting things, are all told in the old narratives, as you may find the story in Hakluyt's Collection; and most edifying is it, opening up a new world and making a romantic chapter in the early history of California. The centuries have rolled on since that time: California has become one of the brightest jewels in the crown of the Republic; San Francisco has been born and has attained greatness never dreamed of by those pioneers who laid her foundations, and before her is a grand career owing to her position and character. She is the child of destiny, with her sceptre extended over the seas which bind to her the great Orient. When John C. Calhoun was Secretary of State he laid his finger on the map where San Francisco stands now, and said: "There, when this Bay comes into our possession, will spring up the great rival of New York." Give San Francisco a history as long as that of New York, and then see what mighty force she will develop. Has she not at her feet all the great States which stretch out beyond the Rocky Mountains? Has she not the homage of all the Pacific coast lands with their untold wealth? And are not her perpetuity and greatness assured? "Whoever," says Sir Walter Raleigh, "commands the sea commands the trade of the world, and whoever commands the trade of the world commands the riches of the world, and consequently the world itself." True is it that San Francisco commands the riches of Alaska, the commerce of China and Japan, the wealth of the Sandwich Islands and of the Philippine Archipelago as well as the products of the South Seas, and what more can she desire? Her cup, a golden cup, is full to overflowing; and I see the years coming, in the visions of the future, when the city will cover, like a jewelled robe, the whole Peninsula as far south as San Jose and will embrace within her government the flourishing towns upon the beautiful shores of her great Bay. Yes, Alameda and Oakland, Berkeley and Benicia, Vallejo and Saucelito, and the villages as far north as San Rafael with all their rich fruitage, will sparkle in her diadem, and teeming millions will be enrolled within her borders rejoicing in her prosperity and her grandeur. All the advantages of Tyre and Corinth and Alexandria, of the ancient world, are her heritage without the elements of decay which led to their downfall; and if she but hold fast the principles of righteousness, which are the best bulwarks of a city or state, she will continue to reign as a queen to latest generations, sitting on her exalted throne by the Golden Gate!