Reminiscences of Travel in Australia, America, and Egypt

by Sir Richard Tangye

The servants take their meals in table d’hote fashion, being waited on by a batch of their fellow servants, and everything is conducted with the greatest possible regularity and order. I was much pleased to find that all the gas and water fittings, also the hydraulic lifts and pumps, were supplied by English makers, and were such as to command the admiration of everybody.

An American gentleman, hearing me speak of the hotel, asked me how I liked it? I told him I was greatly delighted with it; that it was a palace, indeed, in all its arrangements, but that in one respect I had been not a little astonished at what I had seen there—the presence of the extreme of civilisation face to face with a very close approach to barbarism. “How is that,” said he. “Why,” I replied, “you are only supplied with one knife and fork at meals; each guest has to dip his fishy knife into the butter, and the same process has to be gone through in taking salt and mustard; and seeing it is the fashion amongst the American guests to put the knife into their mouths, the idea is not pleasant.”

I referred, too, to another peculiarity of the Americans arising, I believe, from their extensive use of the Virginian weed in chewing, and I said that the guests at the Palace Hotel, in passing through its marble halls, had not the same excuse for their conduct that the old Greek philosopher had when he was being shown over the palace by Crœsus, and when he excused himself for an unparalleled act of rudeness by saying “that such was the magnificence on every hand that the face of the king was the meanest thing that presented itself,” for the proprietor of the hotel had made the most ample provision for the national habit—a provision which was, however, very generally disregarded.

The city of San Francisco is exceedingly well situated, and possesses many handsome streets, extensive hotels, and public buildings, but in none of these respects, save only in hotels, is it equal to Melbourne, though the evidences of great business activity and prosperity are much greater in the former city.

The day after I arrived at the hotel I was surprised at receiving the following letter:—“Dear Tangye,—Should you wish to see me I am to be found at the above address, or a letter addressed to me, Box 339, Post Office, will reach me promptly. My wife is dead. A. J. C. Jarratt.” The name was quite strange to me, so I decided not to go, but to send a friend. My friend found the address, which was a wretched room at the top of a lofty pile of buildings, and after a few minutes’ conversation with the man he saw there, was very glad to get into the street again, not liking the aspect of things. The following day, whilst seated at dinner with my friends, a waiter came to us and asked which was Dr. L—. On being told, he said a messenger from the chief of police was in waiting, wishing to see him. I looked at the doctor and asked him what he had been doing. Having finished our dinner we adjourned to the office and found the officer, who said his chief had received a telegram from a man in some town a hundred miles inland requesting him to send “his friend the Doctor” up to him as soon as possible. Of course my friend, knowing nothing whatever of the man, declined to go up country. I mentioned these polite attentions to a gentleman who was dining at the same table, and who I found was the leading lawyer in the city. He told me it was a favourite dodge with the sharpers, and that they sometimes caught a “flat” in this way. On the arrival of ocean steamers it is the custom to publish the names of the passengers in the evening papers, which accounts for the familiarity of these fellows with the names of strangers. We had many amusing chats with this lawyer. He remarked one day that I must have met with a deal of “character” in travelling. “Yes,” I said, “I had, both good and bad.” “Wa-a-l, I guess its better to meet with a bad character than none at all.” Speaking of the neighbouring State of Nevada, which was still in a very unsettled condition, he said a friend of his was Governor there, and that he “was 6ft. 6in. in height, and had a number three head and a number fifteen foot, for,” said he, “I guess weight of foot is more important there than weight of brain.”

There are sharp men of business in the city who do not require offices in which to carry on their business. If you are walking in the streets with a friend, and, meeting someone else, stop for a chat, you will see a ’cute-looking fellow stop, and though he appears to be intent on something on the opposite side of the street, you will note that he is leaning his ear towards you, doubtless with the laudable intention of gaining a little information. On one occasion we met one of these individuals. He kept his ear open, and then struck in with “I guess you are going through to England. I can put you up to the best way of doing it and calculate I can save you from forty to fifty dollars on the job.” We say we are much obliged, and will perhaps “call again.” Then as you proceed along the streets attenuated fellows, with scanty, pointed beards and Mother Shipton hats, accost you with “Going east, gentlemen? Guess you’ll want to change some money. Come with me, gentlemen, and I’ll take you to the right place.” “Thank you,” we say, “not to-day.” “Wa-a-l, guess exchange will go against you to-morrow, gentlemen.” Observing on the door of a very handsome house a brass name-plate with the name “Mrs. Doctor Sanders,” our guide informed us that there were many lady doctors in the city, and that they had very extensive practice.

The Chinese are very numerous in San Francisco, there being more than 40,000 of them there. At the time of my visit, the feeling of the rowdies ran very high against the Celestials, and threats of wholesale massacre were freely used against them. John Chinaman is a most industrious, frugal man, spending very little upon his living, and nothing upon his pleasures, always excepting his infatuation for opium. His needs being few, he can afford to work for very small pay, and thus comes into competition with the white workman. This is the head and front of his offending, but it is aggravated by the fact of his being equally skilful as an artificer. While the artisans have their special grievances about the Chinese, the wealthy classes have theirs also. It is true “John” does his master’s work well and cheaply, but, as I have said before, he is not a spending man; his sole object is to get what the Yankees call “his little pile” as quickly as possible, and then return to his native land. Nor is this surprising when we consider that every Chinaman leaves his little “Min-ne” behind him when he quits the Flowery Land, it being a very rare thing for a woman to leave China.

The Chinese quarter is full of interest; the people swarm like bees, and live in a frightfully overcrowded state. The butchers’ and barbers’ shops are the most numerous and most interesting, the former being filled with a quantity of dreadful-looking little portions of meat, but it would puzzle the most learned to say from what animal they were cut. The barbers’ shops are situated in the basements of the houses, with an open front towards the street, and they are very numerous, for the Chinese are close shavers. On looking down you may see a number of men seated in a variety of positions, each one smoking a pipe of opium, while the barber is occupied in shaving every portion of his head and face, excepting, of course, his beloved pig-tail. The swell Chinee is very particular that every hair shall be removed, and so clever do the operators become that, by means of tiny razors, they can shave the inside of the nose. Some of the pig-tails are of enormous length, and sometimes the white rowdies attack the Chinese and cut their pig-tails off.

When a man has an especially fine one, he either rolls it up at the back of his head and fastens it with hairpins, or else tucks it inside his blouse. I noticed one of the latter in particular, a glimpse of which would have delighted Darwin himself. The owner had evidently let down his back hair before putting on his blouse, and consequently the pig-tail, which disappeared at the back of the neck, emerged from under the blouse and extended to his heels.