A Boy's Voyage Round the World

by Samuel Smiles

It is not necessary to describe San Francisco. Travellers have done that over and over again. Indeed, there is not so much about it that is of any great interest except to business men. One part of the city is very like another. I was told that some of the finest buildings were of the Italian order; but I should say that by far the greater number were of the Ramshackle order. Although the first house in the place was only built in 1835, the streets nearest to the wharves look already old and worn out. They are for the most part of wood, and their paint is covered with dirt. But though prematurely old, they are by no means picturesque. Of course, in so large a place, with a population of 150,000, and already so rich and prosperous, though so young, there are many fine buildings and some fine streets. The hotels carry away the palm as yet,—the Grand Hotel at the corner of Market and New Montgomery Streets being the finest. There are also churches, theatres, hospitals, markets, and all the other appurtenances of a great city.

I had not for a long time seen such a bustle of traffic as presented itself in the streets of San Francisco. The whole place seemed to be alive. Foot passengers jostled each other; drays and waggons were rolling about; business men were clustered together in some streets, apparently "on change;" with all the accompaniments of noise, and bustle, and turmoil of a city full of life and traffic. The money brokers' shops are very numerous in the two finest streets—Montgomery and California Streets. Nearly every other shop there belongs to a money broker or money changer. Strange to see the piles of glistening gold in the windows—ten to twenty dollar pieces, and heaps of greenbacks.

John Chinaman is here, I see, in great force. There are said to be as many as 30,000 in the city and neighbourhood. I wonder these people do not breed a plague. I went through their quarter one evening, and was surprised and disgusted with what I saw. Chinese men and women of the lowest class were swarming in their narrow alleys. Looking down into small cellars, I saw from ten to fifteen men and women living in places which two white men would not sleep in. The adjoining streets smelt most abominably. The street I went through must be one of the worst; and I was afterwards told that it was "dangerous" to pass through it. I observed a large wooden screen at each end of it, as if for the purpose of shutting it off from the white people's quarter.

One of the nuisances we had to encounter in the streets was that of railway touters. No sooner did we emerge from the hotel door, than men lying in wait pounced upon us, offering tickets by this route, that route, and the other route to New York. I must have had a very "new chum" sort of look, for I was accosted no less than three times one evening by different touting gentlemen. One wished to know if I had come from Sydney, expressing his admiration of Australia generally. Another asked if I was "going East," offering to sell me a through ticket at a reduced price. The third also introduced the Sydney topic, telling me, by way of inducement to buy a ticket of him, that he had "worked there." I shook them all off, knowing them to be dangerous customers. I heard some strange stories of young fellows making friends with such strangers, and having drinks with them. The drink is drugged, and the Sydney swell, on his way to New York, finds himself next morning in the streets, minus purse, watch, and everything of value about him.

There is only one railway route as yet across the Rocky Mountains, by the Western, Central, and Union Pacific, as far as Omaha; but from that point there are various lines to New York, and it was to secure passengers by these respective routes that the touters were so busily at work. All the hotels, bars, and stores, are full of their advertisements:—"The Shortest Route to the East"—"Pullman's Palace Cars Run on this Line"—"The Route of all Nations"—"The Grand Route, viâ Niagara," such are a few specimens of these urgent announcements. I decided to select the route viâ Chicago, Detroit, Niagara, and down the Hudson river to New York; and made my arrangements accordingly.

I left San Francisco on the morning of the 8th of February. The weather was cold compared with that of the Sandwich Islands; yet there were few signs of winter. There was no snow on the ground; and at midday it was agreeable and comparatively mild. I knew, however, that as soon as we left the shores of the Pacific, and ascended the western slopes of the Rocky Mountains, if not before, we should encounter thorough winter weather, and I prepared myself with coats and wrappers as a defence from the cold.

My fellow-voyager from New Zealand, the German-American of whom I have spoken above, and who seemed to take quite a liking for me, accompanied me down to the wharf, where we parted with mutual regret. It was necessary for me to cross the bay by a ferry-boat to Oakland, where the train is made up and starts for Sacramento. There was a considerable crowd round the baggage-office, where I gave up my trunks, and obtained, in exchange, two small brass checks which will enable me to reclaim them on the arrival of the train at Omaha. I proceeded down the pier and on to the ferry-boat. Indeed, I was on it before I was aware. It looked so like a part of the wharf, and was so surrounded by piles and wooden erections, that I did not know I was on its deck, and was inquiring about its arrival to take us off, when I found the huge boat gradually moving away from the pier!

It was a regular American ferry-boat, of the same build fore and aft, capable of going alike backwards or forwards, and with a long bridge at each end, ready to be let down at the piers on either side of the bay, so as to enable carts or carriages to be driven directly on to the main deck, which was just like a large covered yard, standing level with the wharf. Over this was an upper deck with a nice saloon, where I observed notices stuck up of "No spitting allowed;" showing that there was greater consideration for the ladies here than there was on board the 'Moses Taylor,' where spittle and quids were constantly shooting about the decks, with very little regard for passers-by, whether ladies or gentlemen.