Chapter XI

That Which Followed After

About the time that the people of California were beginning to feel

the trouble arising from the unlimited wealth and power of the great

railroad corporation, they discovered what they felt was danger coming

from another quarter. This was in the large number of Chinese pouring

into the state. Already every town of importance had its quaint Chinese

quarter, bits of Asia transplanted to the western hemisphere. Yet these

sons of Asia, with their quiet, gliding motions and oriental dress, had

been of great service in the development of the new land. Many of the

most helpful improvements were rendered possible by their labor, and for

years they were almost the only servants for house or laundry work to

be obtained. Never did the housewives of the Pacific coast join in the

outcry against the Chinese.

Although all this was true, it was also a fact that an American

workingman could not live and support his family on the wages a Chinaman

would take; and when the white man saw the Chinese given the jobs

because they could work cheaply, he became discouraged and angry. Was he

to be denied a living in his own country because of these strangers? For

this reason the working people became very bitter toward the Chinese.

Their complaints were carried to Washington, and because of them

the government finally arranged with China for the restriction of

immigration, but not, however, before the matter caused much trouble in

California.

During the years 1876-77 times were rightly called “hard” along the

Pacific slope. Often laboring men could not get work, and their families

suffered. The blame for all this was unjustly given to the Chinese, who

were several times badly treated by mobs. The general discontent led at

last to a demand for a new state constitution, which many people thought

would remedy the evils of which they complained. For twenty-five years

the old constitution had done good service. On the day it had been

signed, Walter Colton, alcalde of Monterey, wrote thus of it in his

diary: “It is thoroughly democratic; its basis, political and social

equality, is the creed of the thousands who run the plow, wield the

plane, the hammer, the trowel, the spade.” Still it had its faults, the

greatest of which was the power given the legislature over public moneys

and lands, as well as the chance it allowed for dishonesty in voting.

Unfortunately many of the delegates to the convention which was to make

the new constitution were foreigners who knew very little of American

manners, customs, and laws, and few of them were among the deeper

thinkers of the state, men who had had experience in lawmaking. That the

new constitution is not much better than the old, many who helped in the

making of it will agree. It was adopted in May, 1879. Since that time it

has received a number of changes by means of amendments voted for by

the people, and in spite of whatever errors it has contained, the state

under it has gone forward to a high degree of prosperity.

In 1875, during the administration of Governor Pacheco, the first native

state governor, an invitation was extended to native-born boys of San

Francisco to take part in the Fourth of July celebration. A fine body

of young men were thus assembled, of whom Hittell in his story of San

Francisco says, “They were unparalleled in physical development and

mental vigor, and unsurpassed in pride and enthusiasm for the land that

gave them birth.” This gathering led to the founding of the “Native Sons

of the Golden West,” an organization which now numbers many thousands

and of which the great state may well be proud. Later there was

organized a sister society of native daughters, and this also has a

large membership. As stated in their constitution, one of the main

objects of these sons and daughters of the West is “to awaken and

strengthen patriotism and keep alive and glowing the sacred love of

California.”

An event of the utmost importance to the southern part of the state was

the completion of the railroad between San Francisco and Los Angeles,

which occurred in 1879. Its route lay through the rich valley of the San

Joaquin. Work had been carried on from each end of the line, and it was

a very happy assembly which gathered to witness the junction of the two

divisions, the event taking place at the eastern end of the San Fernando

tunnel. This road was afterward extended from Los Angeles eastward by

the way of Yuma and Tucson, and is to-day the Southern Pacific Overland.

Later the Santa Fe Company built its popular road between Los Angeles

and the Eastern states. Both these companies now have lines from Los

Angeles to San Diego, and the Southern Pacific has a coast road the

length of the state, along which the scenery is of great beauty.

Indians

In the history of the state the most pathetic portion is that which

relates to the Indians. Bancroft says, “The California valley cannot

grace her annals with a single Indian war bordering upon respectability.

It can boast, however, a hundred or two of as brutal butcherings on the

part of our honest miners and brave pioneers as any area of equal extent

in our republic.” Miners and settlers coming into the country would

take up the waters where the natives fished, the land where they hunted,

driving them back to rocky soil, where there was nothing but acorns and

roots to support life. As a result the poor, unhappy creatures, driven

by hunger, would steal the newcomers’ horses and cattle. It is true that

the white men depended, in a great measure, upon their animals for the

support of their families; but they thought only of their own wrongs,

and would arm in strong parties, chase the wretched natives to their

homes, and tear down their miserable villages, killing the innocent and

guilty alike. The government was the most to blame, because it did not

in the first place enact laws for the protection of the Indians in their

rights.

About the towns, many of the natives gathered for work. In some places

the authorities had the right to arrest them as vagabonds and hire them

out as bondmen to the highest bidder, for a period often of as many as

two or three months at a time, with no regard to family ties. Little

seems to have been done to assist them to a better kind of life. In Los

Angeles, when working in the vineyards as grape pickers, they were paid

their wages each Saturday night, and immediately they were tempted

on all sides by sellers of bad whisky and were really hurried into

drunkenness. Their shrieks and howls would, for a time, make the night

hideous, when they were driven by the officers of the law into corrals,

like so many pigs or cattle, and left there till Monday morning, when

they were handed over to whoever chose to pay the officers for the right

to own them for the next week.

Near the Oregon line lived some of the most warlike and troublesome

Indians of California. Here there were one or two severe fights, the

worst of which was with the Modocs, in the northern lava beds. It

was here that General Canby was killed. To-day the Modocs are still

suffering keenly. In the upper part of the state the Indians have no

lands of any kind, and noble men and women of California are working to

secure for them their rights from the government. In the south, whole

villages have been found living on nothing but ground acorn meal, from

which miserable diet many children die and older people cannot long

sustain life.

The Sequoya League, an association for the betterment of the Indians of

the Southwest, has done much toward opening the eyes of the public and

of the government officials to the unhappy condition of these first

owners of the soil. Congress, in 1906, appropriated $100,000 to be used

in buying land and water for those Indian reservations or settlements

where the suffering was greatest. This was a good beginning, but as the

needy Indians are scattered all over the state, much more is required

before they can be so placed that they can earn a living by their

labors.

Sheep Industry

Gradually the cattle industry, which was for so long a time the leading

business of the country, gave way to sheep raising. During summer and

fall large flocks of grayish white merinos could be seen getting a rich

living on the brown grasses, the yellow stubble of old grain fields, and

the tightly rolled nuts of the bur clover; while in winter and spring,

hills and plains with their velvet-like covering of green alfileria

offered the best and juiciest of food. This was the time of the coming

of the lambs. As soon as they were old enough to be separated from their

mothers they were put during the day in companies by themselves. A band

of five or six hundred young lambs, playing and skipping over the young

green grass they were just learning to eat, was a beautiful sight to

everybody save to the man or boy who had them to herd. They led him such

a chase that by the time he had them safely corralled for the night,

every muscle in his body would be aching with fatigue.

Shearing time was the liveliest portion of the herder’s life, which was

generally very lonely. First came the shearing crew with their captain;

next arrived the venders of hot coffee, tamales, tortillas, and other

Mexican dainties; brush booths were erected and a brisk trade began. The

herds were driven up and into a corral where several shearers could work

at a time. Snip, snip, snip, went the shears hour after hour. It was the

boast of a good shearer that he could clip a sheep in seven minutes and

not once bring blood. As fast as cut, the wool was packed in a long sack

suspended from a framework. The dust was dreadful, and the man or boy

whose duty it was, when the bag was partly full, to jump in and tramp

the wool down so that the bag might hold more, would nearly choke before

he emerged into the clear daylight.

The passage of the no-fence law by the legislature of 1873, while it was

opposed by the sheep and cattle men, was one of the greatest aids to the

growth of agriculture, especially in the southern part of the state.

It provided that cattle and sheep should not be allowed to run loose

without a herder to keep them from trespassing. This saved the farmer

from the necessity of fencing his grain fields, a most important help in

a country where fence material was so scarce and expensive.

Colony Days

For some time after California’s admission to the Union most of the

events of importance in its history took place around the Bay of San

Francisco and the junction of the Sacramento and San Joaquin; but early

in the seventies the south land awoke from its long sleep and took part

in history making, not in such stirring incidents as those of the days

of ‘49, but in a quieter growth that was yet of importance in the making

of the state. People in the East had begun to find out that southern

California had a mild, healthful climate and that, though the sands

of her rivers and rocks of her mountains were not of gold, still her

oranges, by aid of irrigation, could be turned into a golden harvest,

and that all her soil needed was water in order to yield most bountiful

crops.

As little land could be bought in small ranches, those wishing to

settle in the country chose the colony plan. A number of families would

contribute to a common sum, with which would be purchased a large

piece of land of several thousand acres with its water right. Each man

received from this a number of acres in proportion to the amount of

money he had invested. The first colony formed was that of Anaheim; then

followed Westminster, Riverside, Pasadena, and many others, and by that

time people began to come into southern California in large numbers.

The overland journey was much longer, then than now, but quite as

pleasant. At twenty-two miles an hour the country could be seen and

enjoyed, acquaintance made with the plump little prairie dogs of the

Nebraska plains, and their neighbors the ground owls, which bobbed grave

salutes as the train passed by. Bands of galloping deer, groups of grave

Indian warriors sitting on their ponies watching the train from afar,

an occasional buffalo lumbering along, shaking his shaggy head, were the

things that interested the traveler who took the overland trains in ‘74

and ‘75.

At that time between San Francisco and Los Angeles there were two forms

of travel: a hundred miles of railroad, with the rest of the distance by

stage; and the steamship line. Families chose the ship. From San Pedro

to Los Angeles was the only railroad of the southern country. In Los

Angeles the flat-roofed adobe buildings, where people could walk about

on the tops of the houses, were a wonder to the Eastern strangers.

Beautiful homes some of them were, where glimpses could be had of

stately senoras in silks and laces, and beautiful senoritas whose dark

eyes made havoc with the hearts of the colony young men. The young

Californian, who seemed a very part of his fiery steed, was at once the

admiration and envy of the Yankee boy.

Queer sights were to be seen at every turn. Creaking carretas, whose

squeaking wheels announced their coming a block away, filled the

streets, some loaded with grapes, others with rounded shaggy grease-wood

roots or sacks of the red Spanish bean and great branches of flaming

red peppers. The oxen, with yoke on the horns, seemed as if out of some

Bible picture.

Life in the different colonies was much the same. The newcomers had many

things to learn, but they made the best of their mistakes, and days of

hard work, such as many of them had never known, were often ended with

social or literary meetings, where minds were brightened and hearts

warmed by friendly intercourse.

When the rains were heavy, the swift mountain streams could not be

crossed, and often provisions gave out; then with neighborly kindness

those who had, loaned to those who had not, until fresh supplies could

be obtained. To this day the smell of new redwood lumber, the scent of

burning grease-wood brush, will bring back those times to the colonists

with a painful longing for the happy days of their new life in the new

land. Many never gained wealth, while some lost lands and savings; but

it was these earnest, intelligent men and women who developed the rich

valleys of the south land and to whom we are indebted for the bloom and

beauty found there to-day.

The result of the land laws and the ill-treatment of the Mexican

population at the mines was a period of highway robbery by bands of

outlaws, each under the leadership of some especially daring man. The

story of some of their adventures reminds the hearer of the tales of

Robin Hood. Not so mild as Robin’s were their lives, however. Often

their passage was marked by a trail of blood, where bitter revenge was

taken because of bitter wrongs. Last of these bands was that of Vasquez,

who robbed the colony folk gently with many apologies. He was finally

captured and executed, and with him the bandits passed from the page of

state history.

Alaska

One night in 1867 there took place in Washington an event that was to be

of great importance to the western part of the United States. This was

the signing of the treaty for the purchase of Alaska. As early as 1860

Mr. Seward, in a speech delivered at St. Paul, said:

“Looking far off into the northwest I see the Russian as he occupies

himself establishing seaports, towns, and fortifications, on the verge

of this continent, and I say, ‘Go on and build up your posts all along

the coast up even to the Arctic Ocean, they will yet become the outposts

of my own country.’” So long ago did the desire for Alaska, or Russian

America as it was then called, possess the mind of the great statesman.

But it was not until seven years later that he found the chance to win

the government to his views. One evening, while the matter was under

discussion between the two countries, the Russian minister called upon

Mr. Seward at his home, to inform him that he had just received the

Czar’s sanction for the sale.

“Good, we will sign the treaty to-night,” said the American statesman.

“What, so late as this, and your department closed, your clerks

scattered?” remonstrated the Russian.

“It can be done,” replied Mr. Seward; and it was. At midnight the treaty

was signed. The price paid for Alaska was less than the cost of two of

our modern battleships. Every year has proved more and more the wisdom

of the purchase. The discovery of gold in particular has immensely

increased its value and has brought to California an enlarged commerce.

Spanish-American War

In 1898 came the war with Spain. The tidings of the 15th of February,

1898, filled the hearts of the people of California with indignation

and grief. That the United States battleship Maine had been blown up

in Havana harbor and numbers of our seamen killed, seemed to many

sufficient cause for immediate war. Some, however, feared for the

Pacific coast settlements, with insufficient fortifications and no war

vessels of importance, except the magnificent Western-built battleship,

Oregon. This vessel was at Puget Sound when the news of the blowing up

of the Maine reached her. At the same time came orders to hurry on coal

and proceed to San Francisco. There ten days were spent in taking on as

much coal and provisions as the vessel could carry. Then, with orders to

join the Atlantic fleet as quickly as possible, on the morning of March

19 she steamed through Golden Gate and turned southward, to begin one of

the longest voyages ever made by a battleship.

The people of California were sad at heart to part with their noble

vessel, and when, in April, war was declared, thousands followed the

loved ship and her brave men with their interest and prayers. All alone

upon the great sea she was sailing steadily onward, to meet, perhaps, a

fleet of foes, or worse still, a dart from that terror of the waters,

a torpedo boat; yet always watchful and always ready for whatever foe

might appear, she journeyed on.

The order given by Captain Clark to his officers in case they sighted

the Spanish squadron, was to turn and run away. As the Spanish ships

followed they were almost sure to become separated, some sailing faster

than others. The Oregon having a heavy stern battery, could do effective

fighting as she sailed; and if the enemy’s ships came up one at a time,

there might be a chance of damaging one before the next arrived.

Through two oceans and three zones, fifteen thousand miles without

mishap, the Oregon sailed in fifty-nine days. When she joined the fleet

where it lay off Cuba, she came sweeping in at fifteen knots an hour,

the winner of the mightiest race ever run, cheered at the finish by

every man of the American squadron. All honor should be given to her

wise captain and brave crew and to the Western workmen who made her so

stanch and true.

On a fair May day, while California children were rejoicing over their

baskets of sweet May flowers, the first battle of the war was fought,

the first, and for California the most important. When Dewey destroyed

the Spanish fleet on that Sunday morning (May 1, 1898) in Manila Bay,

he not only won an important victory, but a greater result lay in the

change of attitude of the United States toward the rest of the world.

It was a change which had begun long before; many events had led up to

it, but possession of the Philippines and other islands of the Pacific

forced our country to recognize the importance of Asia and the ocean

which washes its shores.

Commerce has always moved westward, going from Asia to Greece, to Rome,

to western Europe, to the western hemisphere; and the race which takes

up the movement and carries it forward is the one which gains the

profits. All must realize the truth of Mr. Seward’s prophecy when he

said, “The Pacific coast will be the mover in developing a commerce

to which that of the Atlantic Ocean will be only a fraction.” “The

opportunity of the Pacific,” some one has called it. Nearly two thirds

of the people of the earth inhabit the lands washed by the waters of

this western sea, and the country which secures their trade will become

the leading nation of the world--a leadership which should be of the

best kind, supplying the needs of peaceful life, building railroads,

encouraging the things that help a people upward and onward. To the

young men of California, Hawaii and the Philippines offer every chance

for daring, energy, and invention. If to honesty and energy there be

added a speaking knowledge of the Spanish language, there lie before

the youth of the Pacific coast the finest opportunities for active,

successful lives.

As soon as President McKinley issued his call to arms for the Spanish

war, the men of California responded with a rush. A large number of

those who had enlisted were hurried to San Francisco, where the military

authorities were quite unprepared to furnish supplies. For a day or two

there was real suffering; then the Society of the Red Cross came to the

rescue, and thousands of dollars’ worth of food and blankets were sent

to the camp. As soon as the always generous people of San Francisco

comprehended the state of affairs, there was danger that the hungry

young soldiers would be ill from overfeeding.

The twenty-third day of May, 1898, is a day to be remembered in the

history of our country, for on that day went out the first home regiment

from the mainland of the United States, to fight a foe beyond the sea.

When the twelve companies of California Volunteers marched through the

city from the Presidio to the docks of the Pacific Mail and Steamship

Company, two hundred thousand people accompanied them. So hard was it

for our peace-loving people to understand the real meaning of war that

it was not until the brave lads and earnest men were actually marching

to the steamer which was to carry them thousands of miles to meet danger

and death, that many quite realized the sorrowful fact. Men cheered

the regiment as it passed, but the sobs of the women sometimes nearly

drowned the hurrahs. Said one officer, “It was heartrending. If we had

let ourselves go, we would have cried our way to the dock.” But in the

war the record of the California troops was one that gave new honor to

their state.

Annexation of Hawaii

“The Hawaiian Islands,” said Walt Whitman, in the Overland Monthly,

“are not a group. They are a string of rare and precious pearls in the

sapphire center of the great American seas. Some day we shall gather up

the pretty string of pearls and throw it merrily about the neck of the

beautiful woman who has her handsome head on the outside of the

big American Dollar, and they will be called the beautiful American

Islands.”

In 1893 the native queen of the islands was deposed by a revolution

conducted in a great measure by Americans living in Hawaii. A

provisional government was formed and an application made for annexation

to the United States. Through two presidential terms the matter was

discussed both in Congress and by the people all over the country.

Many were against extending our possessions beyond the mainland in any

direction. Others thought it unfair to the natives of the islands to

take their lands against their will. It seemed to be pretty well proved,

however, that the native government was not for the advancement and best

interests of the country, and that in a short time these kindly, gentle

people would have to give up their valuable possessions to some stronger

power.

Captain Mahan, writing of these conditions, said: “These islands are the

key to the Pacific. For a foreign nation to hold them would mean that

our Pacific ports and our Pacific commerce would be at the mercy of that

nation.”

In the early part of the Spanish war (July, 1898) the resolution for the

annexation of the Hawaiian Islands was passed by Congress and approved

by President McKinley, and the string of pearls was cast about

Columbia’s fair neck.

Pius Fund

It seems strange that the first case to be tried in the peace court of

the nations at the Hague should have been in regard to the Pius Fund of

the Californias collected by the Jesuit padres two hundred and thirty

years before, to build missions for the Indians of California. The way

in which this money was obtained is described in Chapter IV of this

history. It grew to be a large sum, of which the Mexican government took

control, paying the interest to the Roman Catholic Church in Upper and

Lower California. After the Mexican war, Mexico refused to pay its share

to the Church of Upper California. The United States took up the matter,

claiming that according to the treaty which closed the war, the Catholic

Church of the state of California had a right to its Mexican property.

In 1868 it was agreed by the two countries to leave the matter to the

decision of Sir Edward Thornton, English ambassador at Washington. He

decided that Mexico should pay an amount equal to one half the interest

since the war. Mexico did this, but had paid nothing during all the

years which had passed since that time. To settle the dispute finally,

it was decided to leave it to arbitration by the Hague court. The

verdict given was that Mexico should pay the Roman Catholic Church of

California $1,400,000 for the past, and one half the interest on the

fund each year from February, 1903, forever.

Panama Canal

The natural result of the nation’s need in the Civil War was the

overland railroad. The danger to the Oregon on its long journey,

the difficulties in getting reinforcements to Admiral Dewey, and the

possession of new lands in the Pacific led to decided action in regard

to the building of a ship canal through the Isthmus of Panama.

For years the plan had been talked over. In General Grant’s first term

as President he saw so plainly our need of this water way, that he

arranged a canal treaty with Colombia, and it seemed as though the work

would soon begin, but the Colombian government refused to allow the

matter to go on, hoping to make better terms with the United States.

This was not possible then, so the plan was not carried out. Later,

a French company undertook to build a canal across Panama, but after

several years of work failed.

Many of the Americans favored the route through Nicaragua, but after the

government had spent much money and time in considering carefully both

propositions, the preference was given to the Panama route. In 1902 an

act for the building of the canal was passed by Congress and approved by

President Roosevelt. It provided, however, that should the President be

unable to obtain a satisfactory title to the French company’s work and

the necessary territory from the republic of Colombia on reasonable

terms and in a reasonable time, he should seek to secure the Nicaragua

route. The matter was almost settled, when again Colombia’s greed got

the better of her judgment and she refused to ratify the compact.

When the people of the province of Panama saw that they were likely to

lose their canal through the action of their government, they promptly

revolted and declared themselves independent of Colombia. The United

States recognized their independence, and a satisfactory treaty was at

once concluded with them. In March, 1904, the commission appointed by

the President for building the canal sailed for the Isthmus.

Nearly one fourth of the work had already been done by the old company,

but there was yet a great deal to do. Besides the actual building of the

canal, its dams and locks, the fever district had to be made healthful

enough for workmen to live there, marshes had to be drained, pure

water brought in from the mountains, and the fever-spreading mosquitoes

killed. In addition to all this, the natives of the land and the many

bands of workmen of different races had to be brought into an orderly,

law-abiding condition. In less than a year it was found necessary to

alter the commission, the President choosing this time men particularly

noted for their energy and power to make things go. The work progressed

with great rapidity, until, in August, 1914, the canal was opened to

navigation.

The Orient

In the latter part of the nineteenth century the eastern portion of Asia

began to stir itself, rising up from the sleepy, shut-in life it had

led for hundreds of years. The eyes of the world watched in wonder the

progress of the war between China and Japan (1894-95). In it was fought

the first battle in which modern war vessels were engaged. It was found

that the Japanese, of whom so little was then known, could fight, and

fight well.

As a result of the war, China ceded to Japan the territory of Manchuria

and the right to protect Korea. Russia and Germany objected, however,

and France agreed with them, so Japan had to give way. Soon Russia began

taking possession of the disputed territories, but she had constant

trouble with Japan, and early in 1904 war broke out. Before the close

of the year the civilized world stood astonished not only at the wisdom,

patriotism, and fighting qualities of the Japanese, but also at their

humanity, which would not have discredited a Christian nation.

There took place a series of great battles, both on land and on the sea,

in which the Japanese were generally victorious. The terrible loss of

life and destruction of property led the President of the United States,

in the spring of 1905, to urge upon the two countries that fighting

cease and peace be arranged.

Few statesmen believed that Mr. Roosevelt would be successful in his

humane endeavor, but he pushed his suggestion with patient perseverance

until, in September, 1905, Americans had the satisfaction of witnessing

upon their soil, at Portsmouth, New Hampshire, the signing of the treaty

of peace between Russia and Japan.

Japan’s methods of conducting the war had advanced her to a standing

among nations which she had never before occupied, and all realized the

wisdom of securing commercial relations with her people, who were so

rapidly adopting the habits and customs of the rest of the civilized

world. In this competition for her commerce, California, by her position

on the western shore of the United States, has unusual advantages, a

fact which was soon proved by the amount of money invested in increasing

her facilities for production and manufacturing. Unfortunately little

has yet been done in the matter of shipbuilding, and few vessels which

enter her harbors have been built in the state.

Some Recent Events

“I’ll put a girdle around the earth in forty minutes,” prophesied Puck

in “Midsummer Night’s Dream.” The boastful fairy did not succeed in

accomplishing this wonder until midnight on the Fourth of July, 1903. On

that day the Pacific cable from the United States to Hawaii, to Midway

Island, to Guam, and to Manila, began operations. The men worked hard

that last day of the cable laying, and by 11 P.M. the President of the

United States sent a message to Governor Taft at Manila. Soon after was

the old prophecy fulfilled, when President Roosevelt, no doubt with Puck

at his elbow, sent a message round the world in twenty minutes, thus

bettering Puck’s idea by half.

The saddest year in California’s records is that of 1906. On the morning

of April 18, a great and overwhelming calamity overtook the beautiful

region around San Francisco Bay. A movement of the earth’s crust which

began in the bottom of the ocean far out from land, reached the coast

in the vicinity of Tomales Bay in Marin County. Wrecking everything

that came in its direct path, it shivered its way in a southeasterly

direction to a point somewhere in the northern part of Monterey County.

The land on the two sides of the fault moved a short distance in

opposite directions. Thus in some straight fences and roads crossing the

fault, one section was found to be shifted as much as sixteen feet to

one side of the other. The severe vibrations set up by this break and

shifting extended a long distance in all directions.

Although the earthquake was by no means so severe in San Francisco as

in the region of Tomales Bay or even in the vicinity of Stanford, Santa

Rosa, San Jose, or Agnews, it caused greater loss of life and property

on account of the crowded population. Many buildings were wrecked,

especially those poorly constructed on land reclaimed from swampy soil

or built up by filling in.

People who had prophesied that, should an earthquake come, the high

buildings such as those of the Call and the Chronicle would surely

collapse, were astonished to see those giant structures apparently

unharmed while buildings of much less height, but without the steel

framework, were completely wrecked.

The earthquake was a sad calamity, but had this been the sum of the

disaster the city would only have paused in its progress long enough to

clear away the wreck and to sorrow with the mourners. It was the fires

which sprang up while the water system was too damaged to be of use that

wiped out old historical San Francisco, leaving in its place a waste of

gray ashes and desolate ruins. Santa Rosa, San Jose, Stanford, Agnews,

all suffered severely from the earthquake; but in few cases did fires

arise to add to their loss. The State Insane Asylum at Agnews, which was

built on swampy ground, was a complete wreck with large loss of life.

The marvelous bravery and cheerfulness with which the people of

San Francisco bore their cruel fate gave a lesson in courage and

unselfishness to humanity. The magnificent generosity with which not

only the people of southern and northern California, but of the whole

country, sprang to the relief of the unhappy city gave a silver lining

to the black cloud of disaster.

Before the embers of their ruined homes had ceased to smoke the people

began the work of rebuilding, and at the time of the visit of the

Atlantic fleet of the United States navy in 1908, business had so

revived as to be almost normal, and the welcome accorded the silent

vessels in white by the gallant City of St. Francis was as hearty and

generous as any that greeted them during their progress.

October, 1909, was marked by two events of importance to San Francisco.

One was the visit of President Taft, to whom the great state of

California had given all its electoral votes. The second was the

celebration, at the same time, of the discovery of the bay, which

occurred in the fall of 1769, the founding of the presidio and mission,

which took place in the fall of 1776, and the rebuilding of the burned

district. On this occasion the people of San Francisco and their guests

gave themselves up to a time of merrymaking--a three days’ historical

carnival called, in honor of the commander of the expedition during

which the great bay was discovered, the “Portola Festival.”

In 1915 the Panama-Pacific International Exposition was held in San

Francisco. It contained many novel and beautiful features, and was

attended by vast multitudes of people. Another notable exposition was

held at San Diego, beginning in 1915 and continuing in 1916.

History of California · 第 11 / 18 章