SAN FRANCISCO.
Geography demonstrates the matchless position of San Francisco, as
metropolis of the Pacific coast, and assures her supremacy perhaps
forever. The Golden Gate, a strait six miles long by one wide,
with an average depth of twenty-four fathoms--seven fathoms at
the shallowest point--is her pathway to the Pacific. At her feet
stretches her sheltered and peerless bay, fifty miles long by five
wide, with Oakland as her Brooklyn just across it. Beyond, the
Sacramento and the San Joaquin empty their floods, the drainage of
the Sierra Nevadas, and afford channels for trade with much of the
interior. Her system of bays--San Pablo, Suisun, and San Francisco
proper--contain a superficial area of four hundred square miles,
of which it is estimated, eight feet in depth pour in and out of
the Golden Gate every twenty-four hours. On all that coast, for
thousands of miles, she seems to be the only really great harbor;
and then, besides, all enterprise and commerce have so centred here,
that hereafter it will be difficult, if not impossible, to wrest
supremacy from her. Until we reached Salt-Lake, New York everywhere
ruled the country, and all business ideas turned that way; but from
there on, the influence of Gotham ceased, and everything tended
to "'Frisco," as many lovingly called her. This was her general
name, indeed, for short, all over the Pacific coast; though the
Nevadans spoke of her, as "the Bay" still. The city itself stands
on a peninsula of shifting dunes or sand-hills, at the mouth of the
harbor, much the same as if New York were built at Sandy Hook. It
was a great mistake, that its founders did not locate it at Benicia,
or Vallejo, or somewhere up that way, where it would have been out
of the draft of the Golden Gate, had better wharfage, and been more
easily defended. But, it seems, when the gold fever first broke out,
in 1849, the early vessels all came consigned to Yerba Buena, as the
little hamlet was then called; and as their charter-parties would not
allow them to ascend the Bay farther, their cargoes were deposited on
the nearest shore, and hence came San Francisco. It took a year or
more then to hear from New York or London, and before further advices
were received, so great was the rush of immigrants, the town was
born and the city named. Benicia tried to change things afterwards;
but 'Frisco had got the start, and kept it, in spite of her false
location. Her military defences are Fort Point at the mouth of the
Golden Gate, Fort San Josè farther up the harbor, and Alcatraz on
an island square in the entrance, which with other works yet to be
constructed would cross-fire and command all the approaches by water,
thus rendering the city fairly impregnable.
From the first, she seems to have had a fight with the sand-hills,
and she was still pluckily maintaining it. She had cut many of them
down, and hurled them into the sea, to give her a better frontage.
Her "made" land already extended out several blocks, and the work
was still going on. With a great _penchant_ for right-angles, as if
Philadelphia was her model city, she was pushing her streets straight
out, in all directions, no matter what obstacles intervened. One
would have thought, that with an eye to economy, as well as the
picturesque, she would have flanked some of her sand-hills by leading
her streets around them; but no! she marched straight at and over
them, with marvellous audacity and courage, like the Old Guard at
Waterloo, or the Boys in Blue at Chattanooga. Some were inaccessible
to carriages; still she pushed straight on, and left the inhabitants
to clamber up to their eyrie-like residences, as best they could.
Many of these hills were still shifting sand, and in places lofty
fences had been erected as a protection against sand-drifts; just as
our railroads East sometimes build fences, as a protection against
snow-drifts. The sand seemed of the lightest and loosest character,
and when the breeze rose filled the atmosphere at all exposed points.
And yet, when properly irrigated, it really seemed to produce about
everything abundantly. While inspecting one of the harbor forts, I
saw a naked drift on one side of a sand-fence, and on the other a
flower-garden of the most exquisite character, while just beyond was
a vegetable and fruit-garden, that would have astonished people East.
A little water had worked the miracle, and this a faithful wind-mill
continued to pump up, from time to time as needed. Towards the south,
the sand-hills seemed less of an obstruction, and thither the city
was now drifting very rapidly. Real-estate there was constantly on
the rise, and houses were springing up as if by magic in a night. The
city-front, heretofore much confined, was now extending southward
accordingly. It was about decided to build a sea-wall of solid
granite, all along the front, two miles or more in length, at a cost
of from two to three millions of dollars. This expenditure seemed
large; but, it was maintained, was not too great for the vast and
growing commerce of the city.
But a few years before, it was a common thing for ships to go East
empty or in ballast, for want of a return cargo; but in 1867 San
Francisco shipped grain alone to the amount of thirteen millions
of dollars, and of manufactures about as much more. Here are some
other statistics that are worth one's considering. In 1849, then
called Yerba Buena, she numbered perhaps 1,000 souls, all told; in
1869, nearly 200,000. In 1868, 59,000 passengers arrived by sea,
and only 25,000 departed, leaving a net gain of 34,000. The vessels
which entered the bay that year, numbered 3,300, and measured over
1,000,000 tons. She exported 4,000,000 sacks of wheat that year, and
half a million barrels of flour. Her total exports of all kinds were
estimated at not less than $70,000,000, and her imports about the
same. Her sales of real-estate aggregated $27,000,000, and of mining
and other stocks $115,000,000, on which she paid over $5,000,000
of dividends. The cash value of her real and personal property was
estimated at $200,000,000. She sent away six tons of gold, and forty
tons of silver every month, and in all since 1849 had poured into the
coffers of the world not less than $1,030,000,000.[15] Her net-work
of far-reaching and gigantic enterprises already embraced the whole
Pacific Coast, northward to Alaska and southward to Panama, while
beyond she stretched out her invisible arms to Japan and China, and
shook hands with the Orient.
One cloudless morning, after days of dismal drizzle, an enthusiastic
Forty-Niner took me up Telegraph Hill, and bade me "view the landscape
o'er!" I remembered when a school-boy reading Dana's "Two Years before
the Mast," in which he speaks so contemptuously of Yerba Buena, and
its Mexican Rip Van Winkles. What a change here since then! Off to
the west rolled the blue Pacific, sea and sky meeting everywhere. Then
came Fort Point, with its formidable batteries, commanding the Golden
Gate; and then the old Presidio, with the stars and stripes waving over
it. Farther inland were the stunted live-oaks and gleaming marbles of
Lone Mountain Cemetery, with the Broderick Monument rising over all.
Then came the live, busy, bustling, pushing city, with its quarter of
a million of inhabitants nearly, soon to be a million, its wharves
thronged with the ships of all nations, but with harbor-room to spare
sufficient to float the navies of the world. Beyond, lay Oakland,
loveliest of suburbs, smiling in verdure and beauty, with Mount
Diabolo towering in the distance--his snow-crowned summit flashing in
the sunlight. The Sacramento and Stockton boats, from the heart of
California were already in. Past the Golden Gate, and up the noble bay,
with boom of welcoming cannon, came the Hong Kong steamer fresh from
Japan. The Panama steamer, with her fires banked and flag flying, was
just ready to cast off. While off to the south, a long train of cars,
from down the bay and San Josè, came thundering in. A hundred church
spires pierced the sky; the smoke from numberless mills and factories,
machine-shops and foundries, drifted over the harbor; the horse-car
bells tinkled on every side--the last proofs of American progress--and
all around us were the din and boom of Yankee energy, and thrift, and
go-ahead-ative-ness, in place of the old Rip Van Winkleism. I don't
wonder, that all good Pacific Coasters believe in San Francisco, and
expect to go there when they die! Her hotels, her school-houses, her
churches, her Bank of California, her Wells-Fargo Express, her Mission
Woollen Mills, her lines of ocean steam-ships, and a hundred other
things, all suggest great wealth and brains; and yet they are only the
first fruits of nobler fortune yet to come. She is what Carlyle might
call an undeniable fact, a substantial verity; and, in spite of her
"heavy job of work," moves onward to empire with giant strides. She
contained already fully a third of the population of the whole state
of California, and was "lifting herself up like a young lion" in all
enterprises--at all times and everywhere--on the Pacific slope.
Her faulty location, however, gives her a climate, that can scarcely
be called inviting, notwithstanding all that Californians claim for
their climate generally. It is true, the range of the thermometer there
indicates but a moderate variation of temperature, with neither snow
nor frost, usually. But her continual rains in winter, and cold winds
and fogs in summer, must be very trying to average nerves and lungs.
We found it raining on our arrival there in December, with the hills
surrounding the bay already turning green; and it continued to rain
and drizzle right along, pretty much all the time, until we departed
for Arizona in February. Sometimes it would break away for an hour or
two, and the sun would come out resplendently, as if meaning to shine
forever; and then, suddenly, it would cloud over, and begin to drizzle
and rain again, as if the whole heavens were only a gigantic sieve.
Really, it did rain there sometimes the easiest of any place I ever
saw--not excepting Fort Vancouver. Going out to drive, or on business,
we got caught thus several times, and learned the wisdom of carrying
stout umbrellas, or else wearing bang-up hats and water-proof coats,
like true Californians. Once, for a fortnight nearly, it rained in
torrents, with but little intermission, and then the whole interior
became flooded--bridges were washed away, roads submerged, etc. In
the midst of this, one night, we had a sharp passage of thunder and
lightning--a phenomenon of rare occurrence on that coast--followed
by a slight earthquake, and then it rained harder than ever. But
at last, the winter rains came to an end, as all things must, and
then we had indeed some superb weather, worthy of Italy or Paradise.
Californians vowed their winter had been an unusual one; that their
January was usually good, and their February very fine; but, of
course, things must be reported as we found them. As a rule, nobody
seemed to mind the perpetual drizzle, so to speak; but with slouched
hats and light overcoats, or infrequent umbrellas, everybody tramped
the streets, as business or pleasure called, and the general health
of the city continued good. The few fair days we had in January and
early February were as soft and balmy, as our May or June, and all
'Frisco made the most of them. The ladies literally swarmed along
Montgomery street, resplendent in silks and jewelry, and all the
drives about the city--especially the favorite one to the Cliff-House
and sea-lions--were thronged with coaches and buggies. Meanwhile, the
islands in the harbor and the surrounding hills and country, so dead
and barren but a few weeks before, had now become superbly green, and
the whole bay and city lay embosomed in emerald.
We left there the middle of February for Arizona, and did not get
back until late in May. Then, when we returned we found the rains
long gone, the vegetation fast turning to yellow--grain ripening in
the fields--strawberries and peas on the table--and the summer winds
and fogs in full vogue. At sunrise, it would be hot, even sultry, and
you would see persons dressed in white linen. By nine or ten A. M.,
the wind would rise--a raw damp wind, sometimes with fog, sweeping
in from the Pacific--and in the evening, you would see ladies going
to the Opera with full winter furs on. How long this lasted, I
cannot say; but this was the weather we experienced, as a rule, late
in May and early in June. Heavy great-coats, doubtless, are never
necessary there. And so, on the other hand, thin clothing is seldom
wanted. Many indeed said, they wore the same clothing all seasons of
the year, and seldom found it uncomfortable either way. The truth
seemed to be, that for hardy persons the climate was excellent--the
air bracing and stimulating--but invalids were better off in the
interior. Consumptives could not stand the winds and fogs at all;
and it was a mooted question, as to whether the large percentage of
suicides just then, was not due in part to climatic influences. The
really healthy, however, appeared plump and rosy, and the growing
children promised well for the future. Had 'Frisco been built at
Benicia, or about there, she would have escaped much of her climatic
misery. Even across the bay, at Oakland, they have a much smoother
climate. But she _would_ "squat" on a sandspit, at the mouth of the
Golden Gate, where there is a perpetual suck of wind and fog--from
the ocean, into the bay, and up the valley of the Sacramento--and now
must make the most of her situation.
Montgomery Street is the Broadway or Chestnut Street of San Francisco,
and California her Wall Street. Her hotels, shops, and banking-houses
are chiefly here, and many of them are very handsome edifices. The
Occidental, Cosmopolitan, and Lick-House hotels, the new Mercantile
Library, and Bank of California, are stately structures, that would
do credit to any city. Their height, four and five stories, seemed a
little reckless, considering the liability of the Coast to earthquakes;
but the people made light of this, notwithstanding some of their best
buildings showed ominous cracks "from turret to foundation stone." So
long as they _stood_, everything was believed secure; and commerce
surged and roared along the streets, as in New York and London.
Brick, well strengthened by iron, seemed to be the chief building
material in the business parts of the city, though stone was coming
into use, obtained from an excellent quarry on Angel Island. The Bank
of California had been constructed of this, and was much admired by
everybody. The private residences, however, seemed chiefly frame, and
were seldom more than two and a half stories high. Doubtless more heed
is given to earthquakes here, though your true Californian would be
slow to acknowledge this. Nevertheless, deep down in his heart--at
"bed-rock," as he would say--his household gods are esteemed of more
importance, than his commercial commodities. In the suburbs, Mansard
roofs were fast coming into vogue, and everywhere there was a general
breaking out of Bay-Window. Brown seemed to be the favorite color,
doubtless to offset the summer sand-storms, and the general prevalence
of bay-windows may also be due partly to these. Convenience and
comfort--often elegance and luxury--appeared everywhere, and to an
extent that was surprising, for a city so young and raw. Shade-trees
were still rare, because only the native scrubby live-oaks, with deep
penetrating roots, can survive the long and dry summers there. But
shrubbery and flowers, prompted by plentiful irrigation, appeared
on every side, and the air was always redolent of perfume. The most
unpretending homes had their gems of flower-gardens, with evergreens,
fuchsias, geraniums, pansies, and the variety and richness of their
roses were a perpetual delight. A rill of water, with trickling side
streams, made the barren sand-hills laugh with verdure and beauty, and
gaunt wind-mills in every back-yard kept up the supply. The wind-mill
California rises to the dignity of an institution, and is a godsend
to the whole coast. In winter, of course, they are not needed. But
throughout the long and rainless summer, when vegetation withers up
and blows away, the steady sea-breeze keeps the wind-mills going, and
these pump up water for a thousand irrigating purposes. The vegetable
gardens about the city, and California farmers generally, all patronize
them, more or less, and thus grow fruits and vegetables of exquisite
character, and almost every variety, the year round. The markets and
fruit-stands of San Francisco, groaning with apples, pears, peaches,
plums, pomegranates, oranges, grapes, strawberries, etc., have already
become world-renowned, and the Pacific Railroad now places them at our
very doors.
Montgomery street repeats Broadway in all but its vista, but with
something more perhaps of energy and dash. The representative New
Yorker always has a trace of conservatism somewhere; but your true
Californian laughs at precedent, and is embodied go-ahead-ativeness.
In costume, he is careless, not to say reckless, insisting on comfort
at all hazards, and running greatly to pockets. Stove-pipe hats are
an abomination to him, and tight trowsers nowhere; but beneath his
slouch-hat are a keen eye and nose, and his powers of locomotion are
something prodigious. Cleaner-cut, more wide-awake, and energetic
faces are nowhere to be seen. Few aged men appear, but most average
from twenty-five to forty years. Resolute, alert, jaunty, bankrupt
perhaps to-day, but to-morrow picking their flints and trying it
again, such men mean business in all they undertake, and carry
enterprise and empire in the palms of their hands. The proportion
of ladies on Montgomery street, however, usually seemed small, and
the quality inferior to that of the sterner sex. Given to jewelry
and loud colors, and still louder manners, there was a fastness
about them, that jarred upon one's Eastern sense, though some noble
specimens of womanhood now and then appeared. Doubtless, the hotel
and apartment-life of so many San Franciscans had something to do
with this, as it is fatal to the more modest and domestic virtues;
but it must be doubted, whether this will account for it entirely.
Evidently, California is still "short" of women, at least of the
worthier kind, and until she completes her supply will continue
to over-estimate and spoil what she has. At least, this is the
impression her Montgomery street dames make upon a stranger, and
unfortunately there is much elsewhere to confirm it.
Respect for the Sabbath seemed to be a growing virtue, but there was
still room for much improvement. Many of the stores and shops on
Montgomery and Kearney streets were open on Sunday, the same as other
days; and it seemed to be the favorite day for pic-nics and excursions,
to Oakland and San Mateo. Processions, with bands of music, were not
infrequent, and at Hayes' Park in the Southern suburbs the whole Teuton
element seemed to concentrate on that day, for a general saturnalia.
On the other hand, there was a goodly array of well-filled churches,
and their pastors preached with much fervency and power. The Jewish
Synagogue is a magnificent structure, one of the finest in America,
and deserves more than a passing notice. It is on Sutter street, in
a fine location overlooking the city, and cost nearly half a million
of dollars. The gilding and decoration generally inside, viewed from
the organ-loft, are superb. But few of the large choir were Jews,
and scarcely any could read the old Hebrew songs and chants in the
original; so these were printed in English, as the Hebrew _sounds_, and
thus they maintained the ancient custom of singing and chanting only
in Hebrew! Their music, nevertheless, was grand and inspiring, and it
would be well, for our Gentile churches, to emulate it. This was called
the Progressive Synagogue. The congregation had recently shortened the
ancient service from three hours to an hour and a half, by leaving
out some of the long prayers--"vain repetitions," it is presumed--and
the consequence was, a split in this most conservative of churches.
The good old conservative brethren, of course, could not stand the
abbreviation. They were fully persuaded, they could never get to
Paradise, with only an hour and a half's service. So, they seceded, and
set up for themselves. Very prosperous and wealthy are the Jews of San
Francisco; and, indeed, all over the Pacific Coast, our Hebrew friends
enjoy a degree of respectability, that few attain East. They number in
their ranks many of the leading bankers, merchants, lawyers, etc., of
San Francisco; and more than one of them sits upon the Bench, gracing
his seat. Poor Thomas Starr King's church is a model in its way, and
the congregation that assembles there one of the most cultivated and
refined on the Pacific Coast. Their pastor, Dr. Stebbins, though not
equal to his great predecessor, in some respects, is a man of marked
thought and eloquence; and, by his broad Christian charity, was doing
a noble work in San Francisco. So, Dr. Stone, formerly of Boston, was
preaching to large audiences, and declaring "the whole counsel of God,"
without fear or favor. His church is plain but large and commodious,
and was always thronged with attentive worshippers. Dr. Wadsworth,
lately of Philadelphia, was not attracting the attention he did East;
but his church was usually well-filled, and he was exerting an
influence and power for good much needed. The Methodists, our modern
ecclesiastical sharp-shooters, did not seem as live and aggressive,
as they usually do elsewhere; but we were told they were a great and
growing power on the Coast, for all that, and everybody bade them God
speed. The Episcopalians, as a rule, I regret to say, appeared to make
but little impression, and were perhaps unfortunate in their chief
official. The Catholics, embracing most of the old Spanish population
and much of the foreign element, were vigorous and aggressive, and
made no concealment of the fact, that they were aiming at supremacy.
In this cosmopolitan city, the Chinese, too, have their Temples,
or Josh-Houses; but they were much neglected, and John Chinaman,
indeed, religiously considered, seemed well on the road to philosophic
indifference.
During the past decade, however, things on the whole had greatly
improved, morally and religiously, as the population had become
more fixed and settled; and all were hoping for a still greater
improvement, with the completion of the Railroad, and the resumption
of old family ties East. The drinking-saloons were being more
carefully regulated. The gambling-hells, no longer permitted openly,
were being more and more driven into obscurity and secrecy. Law and
order were more rigidly enforced. The vigilance committees of former
years still exerted their beneficent example. The _Alta_, _Bulletin_,
and _Times_, then the three great papers of the city and Coast,
all noble journals, were all open and pronounced in behalf of good
morals and wholesome government; and it is not too much to say, that
the prospect for the future was certainly very gratifying, not to
say cheering. "Forty-Niners," (Bret Harte's _Argonauts_) and other
early comers, declared themselves amazed, that they were getting
on, as well as they did. "Yes," said one of the best of them, a man
of great shrewdness and ability, "I grant, we Californians have been
pretty rough customers, and have not as many religious people among
us yet, as we ought to have; but then, what we have are _iron-clad_,
you bet!" I suspect that is about so. A man, who is really religious
in California, will likely be so anywhere. The severity of his
temptations, if he resist them, will make him invulnerable; and all
the "fiery darts of the wicked one," elsewhere, will fall harmless
at his feet. Faithful Monitors are they, battling for Jesus; and in
the end, we know, will come off more than conquerors. With all our
hearts, let us bid them God speed!
FOOTNOTE:
[15] See Appendix.