MISSOURI, LOUISIANA, AND CALIFORNIA
1850-1855.
Having returned from California in January, 1850, with dispatches
for the War Department, and having delivered them in person first
to General Scott in New York City, and afterward to the Secretary
of War (Crawford) in Washington City, I applied for and received a
leave of absence for six months. I first visited my mother, then
living at Mansfield, Ohio, and returned to Washington, where, on
the 1st day of May, 1850, I was married to Miss Ellen Boyle Ewing,
daughter of the Hon. Thomas Ewing, Secretary of the Interior. The
marriage ceremony was attended by a large and distinguished
company, embracing Daniel Webster, Henry Clay, T. H. Benton,
President Taylor, and all his cabinet. This occurred at the house
of Mr. Ewing, the same now owned and occupied by Mr. F. P. Blair,
senior, on Pennsylvania Avenue, opposite the War Department. We
made a wedding tour to Baltimore, New York, Niagara, and Ohio, and
returned to Washington by the 1st of July. General Taylor
participated in the celebration of the Fourth of July, a very hot
day, by hearing a long speech from the Hon. Henry S. Foote, at the
base of the Washington Monument. Returning from the celebration
much heated and fatigued, he partook too freely of his favorite
iced milk with cherries, and during that night was seized with a
severe colic, which by morning had quite prostrated him. It was
said that he sent for his son-in-law, Surgeon Wood, United States
Army, stationed in Baltimore, and declined medical assistance from
anybody else. Mr. Ewing visited him several times, and was
manifestly uneasy and anxious, as was also his son-in-law, Major
Bliss, then of the army, and his confidential secretary. He
rapidly grew worse, and died in about four days.
At that time there was a high state of political feeling pervading
the country, on account of the questions growing out of the new
Territories just acquired from Mexico by the war. Congress was in
session, and General Taylor's sudden death evidently created great
alarm. I was present in the Senate-gallery, and saw the oath of
office administered to the Vice-President, Mr. Fillmore, a man of
splendid physical proportions and commanding appearance; but on the
faces of Senators and people could easily be read the feelings of
doubt and uncertainty that prevailed. All knew that a change in
the cabinet and general policy was likely to result, but at the
time it was supposed that Mr. Fillmore, whose home was in Buffalo,
would be less liberal than General Taylor to the politicians of the
South, who feared, or pretended to fear, a crusade against slavery;
or, as was the political cry of the day, that slavery would be
prohibited in the Territories and in the places exclusively under
the jurisdiction of the United States. Events, however, proved the
contrary.
I attended General Taylor's funeral as a sort of aide-decamp, at
the request of the Adjutant-General of the army, Roger Jones, whose
brother, a militia-general, commanded the escort, composed of
militia and some regulars. Among the regulars I recall the names
of Captains John Sedgwick and W. F. Barry.
Hardly was General Taylor decently buried in the Congressional
Cemetery when the political struggle recommenced, and it became
manifest that Mr. Fillmore favored the general compromise then
known as Henry Clay's "Omnibus Bill," and that a general change of
cabinet would at once occur: Webster was to succeed Mr. Clayton as
Secretary of State, Corwin to succeed Mr. Meredith as Secretary of
the Treasury, and A. H. H. Stuart to succeed Mr. Ewing as Secretary
of the Interior. Mr. Ewing, however, was immediately appointed by
the Governor of the State to succeed Corwin in the Senate.
These changes made it necessary for Mr. Ewing to discontinue
house-keeping, and Mr. Corwin took his home and furniture off his
hands. I escorted the family out to their home in Lancaster, Ohio;
but, before this had occurred, some most interesting debates took
place in the Senate, which I regularly attended, and heard Clay,
Benton, Foots, King of Alabama, Dayton, and the many real orators of
that day. Mr. Calhoun was in his seat, but he was evidently
approaching his end, for he was pale and feeble in the extreme. I
heard Mr. Webster's last speech on the floor of the Senate, under
circumstances that warrant a description. It was publicly known
that he was to leave the Senate, and enter the new cabinet of Mr.
Fillmore, as his Secretary of State, and that prior to leaving he
was to make a great speech on the "Omnibus Bill." Resolved to hear
it, I went up to the Capitol on the day named, an hour or so
earlier than usual. The speech was to be delivered in the old
Senate-chamber, now used by the Supreme Court. The galleries were
much smaller than at present, and I found them full to overflowing,
with a dense crowd about the door, struggling to reach the stairs. I
could not get near, and then tried the reporters' gallery, but found
it equally crowded; so I feared I should lose the only possible
opportunity to hear Mr. Webster.
I had only a limited personal acquaintance with any of the
Senators, but had met Mr. Corwin quite often at Mr. Ewing's house,
and I also knew that he had been extremely friendly to my father in
his lifetime; so I ventured to send in to him my card, "W. T. S.,
First-Lieutenant, Third Artillery." He came to the door promptly,
when I said, "Mr. Corwin, I believe Mr. Webster is to speak
to-day." His answer was, "Yes, he has the floor at one o'clock."
I then added that I was extremely anxious to hear him. "Well,"
said he, "why don't you go into the gallery?" I explained that it
was full, and I had tried every access, but found all jammed with
people. "Well," said he, "what do you want of me?" I explained
that I would like him to take me on the floor of the Senate; that I
had often seen from the gallery persons on the floor, no better
entitled to it than I. He then asked in his quizzical way, "Are
you a foreign embassador?" "No." "Are you the Governor of a
State?" "No." "Are you a member of the other House?" "Certainly
not" "Have you ever had a vote of thanks by name?" "No!" "Well,
these are the only privileged members." I then told him he knew
well enough who I was, and that if he chose he could take me in.
He then said, "Have you any impudence?" I told him, "A reasonable
amount if occasion called for it." "Do you think you could become
so interested in my conversation as not to notice the door-keeper?"
(pointing to him). I told him that there was not the least doubt
of it, if he would tell me one of his funny stories. He then took
my arm, and led me a turn in the vestibule, talking about some
indifferent matter, but all the time directing my looks to his left
hand, toward which he was gesticulating with his right; and thus we
approached the door-keeper, who began asking me, "Foreign
ambassador? Governor of a State? Member of Congress?" etc.; but I
caught Corwin's eye, which said plainly, "Don't mind him, pay
attention to me," and in this way we entered the Senate-chamber by
a side-door. Once in, Corwin said, "Now you can take care of
yourself," and I thanked him cordially.
I found a seat close behind Mr. Webster, and near General Scott,
and heard the whole of the speech. It was heavy in the extreme,
and I confess that I was disappointed and tired long before it was
finished. No doubt the speech was full of fact and argument, but
it had none of the fire of oratory, or intensity of feeling, that
marked all of Mr. Clay's efforts.
Toward the end of July, as before stated, all the family went home
to Lancaster. Congress was still in session, and the bill adding
four captains to the Commissary Department had not passed, but was
reasonably certain to, and I was equally sure of being one of them.
At that time my name was on the muster-roll of (Light) Company C,
Third Artillery (Bragg's), stationed at Jefferson Barracks, near
St. Louis. But, as there was cholera at St. Louis, on application,
I was permitted to delay joining my company until September. Early
in that month, I proceeded to Cincinnati, and thence by steamboat
to St. Louis, and then to Jefferson Barracks, where I reported
for duty to Captain and Brevet-Colonel Braxton Bragg, commanding
(Light) Company C, Third Artillery. The other officers of the
company were First-Lieutenant James A. Hardie, and afterward
Haekaliah Brown. New horses had just been purchased for the
battery, and we were preparing for work, when the mail brought the
orders announcing the passage of the bill increasing the Commissary
Department by four captains, to which were promoted Captains
Shiras, Blair, Sherman, and Bowen. I was ordered to take post at
St. Louis, and to relieve Captain A. J. Smith, First Dragoons, who
had been acting in that capacity for some months. My commission
bore date September 27,1850. I proceeded forthwith to the city,
relieved Captain Smith, and entered on the discharge of the duties
of the office.
Colonel N. S. Clarke, Sixth Infantry, commanded the department;
Major D. C. Buell was adjutant-general, and Captain W. S. Hancock
was regimental quartermaster; Colonel Thomas Swords was the depot
quartermaster, and we had our offices in the same building, on the
corner of Washington Avenue and Second. Subsequently Major S. Van
Vliet relieved Colonel Swords. I remained at the Planters' House
until my family arrived, when we occupied a house on Chouteau
Avenue, near Twelfth.
During the spring and summer of 1851, Mr. Ewing and Mr. Henry
Stoddard, of Dayton, Ohio, a cousin of my father, were much in St.
Louis, on business connected with the estate of Major Amos
Stoddard, who was of the old army, as early as the beginning of
this century. He was stationed at the village of St. Louis at the
time of the Louisiana purchase, and when Lewis and Clarke made
their famous expedition across the continent to the Columbia River.
Major Stoddard at that early day had purchased a small farm back of
the village, of some Spaniard or Frenchman, but, as he was a
bachelor, and was killed at Fort Meigs, Ohio, during the War of
1812, the title was for many years lost sight of, and the farm was
covered over by other claims and by occupants. As St. Louis began
to grow, his brothers and sisters, and their descendants, concluded
to look up the property. After much and fruitless litigation, they
at last retained Mr. Stoddard, of Dayton, who in turn employed Mr.
Ewing, and these, after many years of labor, established the title,
and in the summer of 1851 they were put in possession by the United
States marshal. The ground was laid off, the city survey extended
over it, and the whole was sold in partition. I made some
purchases, and acquired an interest, which I have retained more or
less ever since.
We continued to reside in St. Louis throughout the year 1851, and
in the spring of 1852 I had occasion to visit Fort Leavenworth on
duty, partly to inspect a lot of cattle which a Mr. Gordon, of Cass
County, had contracted to deliver in New Mexico, to enable Colonel
Sumner to attempt his scheme of making the soldiers in New Mexico
self-supporting, by raising their own meat, and in a measure their
own vegetables. I found Fort Leavenworth then, as now, a most
beautiful spot, but in the midst of a wild Indian country. There
were no whites settled in what is now the State of Kansas. Weston,
in Missouri, was the great town, and speculation in town-lots there
and thereabout burnt the fingers of some of the army-officers, who
wanted to plant their scanty dollars in a fruitful soil. I rode on
horseback over to Gordon's farm, saw the cattle, concluded the
bargain, and returned by way of Independence, Missouri. At
Independence I found F. X. Aubrey, a noted man of that day, who had
just made a celebrated ride of six hundred miles in six days. That
spring the United States quartermaster, Major L. C. Easton, at Fort
Union, New Mexico, had occasion to send some message east by a
certain date, and contracted with Aubrey to carry it to the nearest
post-office (then Independence, Missouri), making his compensation
conditional on the time consumed. He was supplied with a good
horse, and an order on the outgoing trains for an exchange. Though
the whole route was infested with hostile Indians, and not a house
on it, Aubrey started alone with his rifle. He was fortunate in
meeting several outward-bound trains, and there, by made frequent
changes of horses, some four or five, and reached Independence in
six days, having hardly rested or slept the whole way. Of course,
he was extremely fatigued, and said there was an opinion among the
wild Indians that if a man "sleeps out his sleep," after such
extreme exhaustion, he will never awake; and, accordingly, he
instructed his landlord to wake him up after eight hours of sleep.
When aroused at last, he saw by the clock that he had been asleep
twenty hours, and he was dreadfully angry, threatened to murder his
landlord, who protested he had tried in every way to get him up,
but found it impossible, and had let him "sleep it out" Aubrey, in
describing his sensations to me, said he took it for granted he was
a dead man; but in fact he sustained no ill effects, and was off
again in a few days. I met him afterward often in California, and
always esteemed him one of the best samples of that bold race of
men who had grown up on the Plains, along with the Indians, in the
service of the fur companies. He was afterward, in 1856, killed by
R. C. Weightman, in a bar-room row, at Santa Fe, New Mexico, where
he had just arrived from California.
In going from Independence to Fort Leavenworth, I had to swim Milk
Creek, and sleep all night in a Shawnee camp. The next day I
crossed the Kaw or Kansas River in a ferry boat, maintained by the
blacksmith of the tribe, and reached the fort in the evening. At
that day the whole region was unsettled, where now exist many rich
counties, highly cultivated, embracing several cities of from ten
to forty thousand inhabitants. From Fort Leavenworth I returned by
steamboat to St. Louis.
In the summer of 1852, my family went to Lancaster, Ohio; but I
remained at my post. Late in the season, it was rumored that I was
to be transferred to New Orleans, and in due time I learned the
cause. During a part of the Mexican War, Major Seawell, of the
Seventh Infantry, had been acting commissary of subsistence at New
Orleans, then the great depot of supplies for the troops in Texas,
and of those operating beyond the Rio Grande. Commissaries at that
time were allowed to purchase in open market, and were not
restricted to advertising and awarding contracts to the lowest
bidders. It was reported that Major Seawell had purchased largely
of the house of Perry Seawell & Co., Mr. Seawell being a relative
of his. When he was relieved in his duties by Major Waggman, of
the regular Commissary Department, the latter found Perry Seawell &
Co. so prompt and satisfactory that he continued the patronage;
for which there was a good reason, because stores for the use of
the troops at remote posts had to be packed in a particular way, to
bear transportation in wagons, or even on pack-mules; and this firm
had made extraordinary preparations for this exclusive purpose.
Some time about 1849, a brother of Major Waggaman, who had been
clerk to Captain Casey, commissary of subsistence, at Tampa Bay,
Florida, was thrown out of office by the death of the captain, and
he naturally applied to his brother in New Orleans for employment;
and he, in turn, referred him to his friends, Messrs. Perry
Seawell & Co. These first employed him as a clerk, and afterward
admitted him as a partner. Thus it resulted, in fact, that Major
Waggaman was dealing largely, if not exclusively, with a firm of
which his brother was a partner.
One day, as General Twiggs was coming across Lake Pontchartrain, he
fell in with one of his old cronies, who was an extensive grocer.
This gentleman gradually led the conversation to the downward
tendency of the times since he and Twiggs were young, saying that,
in former years, all the merchants of New Orleans had a chance at
government patronage; but now, in order to sell to the army
commissary, one had to take a brother in as a partner. General
Twiggs resented this, but the merchant again affirmed it, and gave
names. As soon as General Twiggs reached his office, he instructed
his adjutant-general, Colonel Bliss--who told me this--to address a
categorical note of inquiry to Major Waggaman. The major very
frankly stated the facts as they had arisen, and insisted that the
firm of Perry Seawell & Co. had enjoyed a large patronage, but
deserved it richly by reason of their promptness, fairness, and
fidelity. The correspondence was sent to Washington, and the
result was, that Major Waggaman was ordered to St. Louis, and I was
ordered to New Orleans.
I went down to New Orleans in a steamboat in the month of
September, 1852, taking with me a clerk, and, on arrival, assumed
the office, in a bank-building facing Lafayette Square, in which
were the offices of all the army departments. General D. Twiggs
was in command of the department, with Colonel W. W. S. Bliss
(son-in-law of General Taylor) as his adjutant-general. Colonel A.
C. Myers was quartermaster, Captain John F. Reynolds aide-de-camp,
and Colonel A. J. Coffee paymaster. I took rooms at the St. Louis
Hotel, kept by a most excellent gentleman, Colonel Mudge.
Mr. Perry Seawell came to me in person, soliciting a continuance of
the custom which he had theretofore enjoyed; but I told him frankly
that a change was necessary, and I never saw or heard of him
afterward. I simply purchased in open market, arranged for the
proper packing of the stores, and had not the least difficulty in
supplying the troops and satisfying the head of the department in
Washington.
About Christmas, I had notice that my family, consisting of Mrs.
Sherman, two children, and nurse, with my sister Fanny (now Mrs.
Moulton, of Cincinnati, Ohio), were en route for New Orleans by
steam-packet; so I hired a house on Magazine Street, and furnished
it. Almost at the moment of their arrival, also came from St.
Louis my personal friend Major Turner, with a parcel of documents,
which, on examination, proved to be articles of copartnership for a
bank in California under the title of "Lucas, Turner & Co.," in
which my name was embraced as a partner. Major Turner was, at the
time, actually en route for New York, to embark for San Francisco,
to inaugurate the bank, in the nature of a branch of the firm
already existing at St. Louis under the name of "Lucas & Symonds."
We discussed the matter very fully, and he left with me the papers
for reflection, and went on to New York and California.
Shortly after arrived James H. Lucas, Esq., the principal of the
banking-firm in St. Louis, a most honorable and wealthy gentleman.
He further explained the full programme of the branch in
California; that my name had been included at the insistence of
Major Turner, who was a man of family and property in St. Louis,
unwilling to remain long in San Francisco, and who wanted me to
succeed him there. He offered me a very tempting income, with an
interest that would accumulate and grow. He also disclosed to me
that, in establishing a branch in California, he was influenced by
the apparent prosperity of Page, Bacon & Co., and further that he
had received the principal data, on which he had founded the
scheme, from B. R. Nisbet, who was then a teller in the firm of
Page, Bacon & Co., of San Francisco; that he also was to be taken
in as a partner, and was fully competent to manage all the details
of the business; but, as Nisbet was comparatively young, Mr. Lucas
wanted me to reside in San Francisco permanently, as the head of
the firm. All these matters were fully discussed, and I agreed to
apply for a six months' leave of absence, go to San Francisco, see
for myself, and be governed by appearances there. I accordingly,
with General Twiggs's approval, applied to the adjutant-general for
a six months' leave, which was granted; and Captain John F.
Reynolds was named to perform my duties during my absence.
During the stay of my family in New Orleans, we enjoyed the society
of the families of General Twiggs, Colonel Myers, and Colonel
Bliss, as also of many citizens, among whom was the wife of Mr.
Day, sister to my brother-in-law, Judge Bartley. General Twiggs
was then one of the oldest officers of the army. His history
extended back to the War of 1812, and he had served in early days
with General Jackson in Florida and in the Creek campaigns. He had
fine powers of description, and often entertained us, at his
office, with accounts of his experiences in the earlier settlements
of the Southwest. Colonel Bliss had been General Taylor's adjutant
in the Mexican War, and was universally regarded as one of the most
finished and accomplished scholars in the army, and his wife was a
most agreeable and accomplished lady.
Late in February, I dispatched my family up to Ohio in the
steamboat Tecumseh (Captain Pearce); disposed of my house and
furniture; turned over to Major Reynolds the funds, property, and
records of the office; and took passage in a small steamer for
Nicaragua, en route for California. We embarked early in March,
and in seven days reached Greytown, where we united with the
passengers from New York, and proceeded, by the Nicaragua River and
Lake, for the Pacific Ocean. The river was low, and the little
steam canal-boats, four in number, grounded often, so that the
passengers had to get into the water, to help them over the bare.
In all there were about six hundred passengers, of whom about sixty
were women and children. In four days we reached Castillo, where
there is a decided fall, passed by a short railway, and above this
fall we were transferred to a larger boat, which carried us up the
rest of the river, and across the beautiful lake Nicaragua, studded
with volcanic islands. Landing at Virgin Bay, we rode on mules
across to San Juan del Sur, where lay at anchor the propeller S. S.
Lewis (Captain Partridge, I think). Passengers were carried
through the surf by natives to small boats, and rowed off to the
Lewis. The weather was very hot, and quite a scramble followed for
state-rooms, especially for those on deck. I succeeded in reaching
the purser's office, got my ticket for a berth in one of the best
state-rooms on deck, and, just as I was turning from the window, a
lady who was a fellow-passenger from New Orleans, a Mrs. D-, called
to me to secure her and her lady friend berths on deck, saying that
those below were unendurable. I spoke to the purser, who, at the
moment perplexed by the crowd and clamor, answered: "I must put
their names down for the other two berths of your state-room; but,
as soon as the confusion is over, I will make some change whereby
you shall not suffer." As soon as these two women were assigned to
a state-room, they took possession, and I was left out. Their
names were recorded as "Captain Sherman and ladies." As soon as
things were quieted down I remonstrated with the purser, who at
last gave me a lower berth in another and larger state-room on
deck, with five others, so that my two ladies had the state-room
all to themselves. At every meal the steward would come to me, and
say, "Captain Sherman, will you bring your ladies to the table?"
and we had the best seats in the ship.
This continued throughout the voyage, and I assert that "my ladies"
were of the most modest and best-behaved in the ship; but some time
after we had reached San Francisco one of our fellow-passengers
came to me and inquired if I personally knew Mrs. D---, with flaxen
tresses, who sang so sweetly for us, and who had come out under my
especial escort. I replied I did not, more than the chance
acquaintance of the voyage, and what she herself had told me, viz.,
that she expected to meet her husband, who lived about Mokelumne
Hill. He then informed me that she was a woman of the town.
Society in California was then decidedly mixed. In due season the
steamship Lewis got under weigh. She was a wooden ship, long and
narrow, bark-rigged, and a propeller; very slow, moving not over
eight miles an hour. We stopped at Acapulco, and, in eighteen
days, passed in sight of Point Pinoa at Monterey, and at the speed
we were traveling expected to reach San Francisco at 4 A. M. the
next day. The cabin passengers, as was usual, bought of the
steward some champagne and cigars, and we had a sort of ovation for
the captain, purser, and surgeon of the ship, who were all very
clever fellows, though they had a slow and poor ship. Late at
night all the passengers went to bed, expecting to enter the port
at daylight. I did not undress, as I thought the captain could and
would run in at night, and I lay down with my clothes on. About 4
A. M. I was awakened by a bump and sort of grating of the vessel,
which I thought was our arrival at the wharf in San Francisco; but
instantly the ship struck heavily; the engines stopped, and the
running to and fro on deck showed that something was wrong. In a
moment I was out of my state-room, at the bulwark, holding fast to
a stanchion, and looking over the side at the white and seething
water caused by her sudden and violent stoppage. The sea was
comparatively smooth, the night pitch-dark, and the fog deep and
impenetrable; the ship would rise with the swell, and come down
with a bump and quiver that was decidedly unpleasant. Soon the
passengers were out of their rooms, undressed, calling for help,
and praying as though the ship were going to sink immediately. Of
course she could not sink, being already on the bottom, and the
only question was as to the strength of hull to stand the bumping
and straining. Great confusion for a time prevailed, but soon I
realized that the captain had taken all proper precautions to
secure his boats, of which there were six at the davits. These are
the first things that steerage-passengers make for in case of
shipwreck, and right over my head I heard the captain's voice say
in a low tone, but quite decided: "Let go that falls, or, damn you,
I'll blow your head off!" This seemingly harsh language gave me
great comfort at the time, and on saying so to the captain
afterward, he explained that it was addressed to a passenger who
attempted to lower one of the boats. Guards, composed of the crew,
were soon posted to prevent any interference with the boats, and
the officers circulated among the passengers the report that there
was no immediate danger; that, fortunately, the sea was smooth;
that we were simply aground, and must quietly await daylight.
They advised the passengers to keep quiet, and the ladies and
children to dress and sit at the doors of their state-rooms, there
to await the advice and action of the officers of the ship, who
were perfectly cool and self-possessed. Meantime the ship was
working over a reef-for a time I feared she would break in two;
but, as the water gradually rose inside to a level with the sea
outside, the ship swung broadside to the swell, and all her keel
seemed to rest on the rock or sand. At no time did the sea break
over the deck--but the water below drove all the people up to the
main-deck and to the promenade-deck, and thus we remained for about
three hours, when daylight came; but there was a fog so thick that
nothing but water could be seen. The captain caused a boat to be
carefully lowered, put in her a trustworthy officer with a
boat-compass, and we saw her depart into the fog. During her
absence the ship's bell was kept tolling. Then the fires were all
out, the ship full of water, and gradually breaking up, wriggling
with every swell like a willow basket--the sea all round us full of
the floating fragments of her sheeting, twisted and torn into a
spongy condition. In less than an hour the boat returned, saying
that the beach was quite near, not more than a mile away, and had a
good place for landing. All the boats were then carefully lowered,
and manned by crews belonging to the ship; a piece of the gangway,
on the leeward side, was cut away, and all the women, and a few of
the worst-scared men, were lowered into the boats, which pulled for
shore. In a comparatively short time the boats returned, took new
loads, and the debarkation was afterward carried on quietly and
systematically. No baggage was allowed to go on shore except bags
or parcels carried in the hands of passengers. At times the fog
lifted so that we could see from the wreck the tops of the hills,
and the outline of the shore; and I remember sitting on, the upper
or hurricane deck with the captain, who had his maps and compass
before him, and was trying to make out where the ship was. I
thought I recognized the outline of the hills below the mission of
Dolores, and so stated to him; but he called my attention to the
fact that the general line of hills bore northwest, whereas the
coast south of San Francisco bears due north and south. He
therefore concluded that the ship had overrun her reckoning, and
was then to the north of San Francisco. He also explained that,
the passage up being longer than usual, viz., eighteen days, the
coal was short; that at the time the firemen were using some cut-up
spars along with the slack of coal, and that this fuel had made
more than usual steam, so that the ship must have glided along
faster than reckoned. This proved to be the actual case, for, in
fact, the steamship Lewis was wrecked April 9, 1853, on "Duckworth
Reef," Baulinas Bay, about eighteen miles above the entrance to San
Francisco.
The captain had sent ashore the purser in the first boat, with
orders to work his way to the city as soon as possible, to report
the loss of his vessel, and to bring back help. I remained on the
wreck till among the last of the passengers, managing to get a can
of crackers and some sardines out of the submerged pantry, a thing
the rest of the passengers did not have, and then I went quietly
ashore in one of the boats. The passengers were all on the beach,
under a steep bluff; had built fires to dry their clothes, but had
seen no human being, and had no idea where they were. Taking along
with me a fellow-passenger, a young chap about eighteen years old,
I scrambled up the bluff, and walked back toward the hills, in
hopes to get a good view of some known object. It was then the
month of April, and the hills were covered with the beautiful
grasses and flowers of that season of the year. We soon found
horse paths and tracks, and following them we came upon a drove of
horses grazing at large, some of which had saddle-marks. At about
two miles from the beach we found a corral; and thence, following
one of the strongest-marked paths, in about a mile more we
descended into a valley, and, on turning a sharp point, reached a
board shanty, with a horse picketed near by. Four men were inside
eating a meal. I inquired if any of the Lewis's people had been
there; they did not seem to understand what I meant when I
explained to them that about three miles from them, and beyond the
old corral, the steamer Lewis was wrecked, and her passengers were
on the beach. I inquired where we were, and they answered, "At
Baulinas Creek;" that they were employed at a saw-mill just above,
and were engaged in shipping lumber to San Francisco; that a
schooner loaded with lumber was then about two miles down the
creek, waiting for the tide to get out, and doubtless if we would
walk down they would take us on board.
I wrote a few words back to the captain, telling him where he was,
and that I would hurry to the city to send him help. My companion
and I their went on down the creek, and soon descried the schooner
anchored out in the stream. On being hailed, a small boat came in
and took us on board. The "captain" willingly agreed for a small
sum to carry us down to San Francisco; and, as his whole crew
consisted of a small boy about twelve years old, we helped him to
get up his anchor and pole the schooner down the creek and out over
the bar on a high tide. This must have been about 2 P.M. Once over
the bar, the sails were hoisted, and we glided along rapidly with a
strong, fair, northwest wind. The fog had lifted, so we could see
the shores plainly, and the entrance to the bay. In a couple of
hours we were entering the bay, and running "wing-and-wing."
Outside the wind was simply the usual strong breeze; but, as it
passes through the head of the Golden Gate, it increases, and
there, too, we met a strong ebb-tide.
The schooner was loaded with lumber, much of which was on deck,
lashed down to ring bolts with raw-hide thongs. The captain was
steering, and I was reclining on the lumber, looking at the
familiar shore, as we approached Fort Point, when I heard a sort of
cry, and felt the schooner going over. As we got into the throat
of the "Heads," the force of the wind, meeting a strong ebb-tide,
drove the nose of the schooner under water; she dove like a duck,
went over on her side, and began, to drift out with the tide. I
found myself in the water, mixed up with pieces of plank and ropes;
struck out, swam round to the stern, got on the keel, and clambered
up on the side. Satisfied that she could not sink, by reason of
her cargo, I was not in the least alarmed, but thought two
shipwrecks in one day not a good beginning for a new, peaceful
career. Nobody was drowned, however; the captain and crew were
busy in securing such articles as were liable to float off, and I
looked out for some passing boat or vessel to pick us up. We were
drifting steadily out to sea, while I was signaling to a boat about
three miles off, toward Saucelito, and saw her tack and stand
toward us. I was busy watching this sail-boat, when I heard a
Yankee's voice, close behind, saying, "This is a nice mess you've
got yourselves into," and looking about I saw a man in a small
boat, who had seen us upset, and had rowed out to us from a
schooner anchored close under the fort. Some explanations were
made, and when the sail-boat coming from Saucelito was near enough
to be spoken to, and the captain had engaged her to help his
schooner, we bade him good by, and got the man in the small boat-to
carry us ashore, and land us at the foot of the bluff, just below
the fort. Once there, I was at home, and we footed it up to the
Presidio. Of the sentinel I inquired who was in command of the
post, and was answered, "Major Merchant." He was not then in, but
his adjutant, Lieutenant Gardner, was. I sent my card to him; he
came out, and was much surprised to find me covered with sand, and
dripping with water, a good specimen of a shipwrecked mariner. A
few words of explanation sufficed; horses were provided, and we
rode hastily into the city, reaching the office of the Nicaragua
Steamship Company (C. K. Garrison, agent) about dark, just as the
purser had arrived; by a totally different route. It was too late
to send relief that night, but by daylight next morning two
steamers were en route for and reached the place of wreck in time
to relieve the passengers and bring them, and most of the baggage.
I lost my carpet-bag, but saved my trunk. The Lewis went to pieces
the night after we got off, and, had there been an average sea
during the night of our shipwreck, none of us probably would have
escaped. That evening in San Francisco I hunted up Major Turner,
whom I found boarding, in company with General E. A. Hitchcock, at
a Mrs. Ross's, on Clay Street, near Powell. I took quarters with
them, and began to make my studies, with a view to a decision
whether it was best to undertake this new and untried scheme of
banking, or to return to New Orleans and hold on to what I then
had, a good army commission.
At the time of my arrival, San Francisco was an the top wave of
speculation and prosperity. Major Turner had rented at six hundred
dollars a month the office formerly used and then owned by Adams &
Co., on the east side of Montgomery Street, between Sacramento and
California Streets. B. R. Nisbet was the active partner, and James
Reilly the teller. Already the bank of Lucas, Turner & Co. was
established, and was engaged in selling bills of exchange,
receiving deposits, and loaning money at three per cent. a month.
Page, Bacon & Co., and Adams & Co., were in full blast across the
street, in Parrott's new granite building, and other bankers were
doing seemingly a prosperous business, among them Wells, Fargo &
Co.; Drexel, Sather & Church; Burgoyne & Co.; James King of Win.;
Sanders & Brenham; Davidson & Co.; Palmer, Cook & Co., and others.
Turner and I had rooms at Mrs. Ross's, and took our meals at
restaurants down-town, mostly at a Frenchman's named Martin, on the
southwest corner of Montgomery and California Streets. General
Hitchcock, of the army, commanding the Department of California,
usually messed with us; also a Captain Mason, and Lieutenant
Whiting, of the Engineer Corps. We soon secured a small share of
business, and became satisfied there was room for profit.
Everybody seemed to be making money fast; the city was being
rapidly extended and improved; people paid their three per cent. a
month interest without fail, and without deeming it excessive.
Turner, Nisbet, and I, daily discussed the prospects, and gradually
settled down to the conviction that with two hundred thousand
dollars capital, and a credit of fifty thousand dollars in New
York, we could build up a business that would help the St. Louis
house, and at the same time pay expenses in California, with a
reasonable profit. Of course, Turner never designed to remain long
in California, and I consented to go back to St. Louis, confer with
Mr. Lucas and Captain Simonds, agree upon further details, and then
return permanently.
I have no memoranda by me now by which to determine the fact, but
think I returned to New York in July, 1853, by the Nicaragua route,
and thence to St. Louis by way of Lancaster, Ohio, where my family
still was. Mr. Lucas promptly agreed to the terms proposed, and
further consented, on the expiration of the lease of the Adams &
Co. office, to erect a new banking-house in San Francisco, to cost
fifty thousand dollars. I then returned to Lancaster, explained to
Mr. Ewing and Mrs. Sherman all the details of our agreement, and,
meeting their approval, I sent to the Adjutant-General of the army
my letter of resignation, to take effect at the end of the six
months' leave, and the resignation was accepted, to take effect
September 6, 1853. Being then a citizen, I engaged a passage out
to California by the Nicaragua route, in the steamer leaving New
York September 20th, for myself and family, and accordingly
proceeded to New York, where I had a conference with Mr. Meigs,
cashier of the American Exchange Bank, and with Messrs. Wadsworth
& Sheldon, bankers, who were our New York correspondents; and on
the 20th embarked for San Juan del Norte, with the family, composed
of Mrs. Sherman, Lizzie, then less than a year old, and her nurse,
Mary Lynch. Our passage down was uneventful, and, on the boats up
the Nicaragua River, pretty much the same as before. On reaching
Virgin Bay, I engaged a native with three mules to carry us across
to the Pacific, and as usual the trip partook of the ludicrous
--Mrs. Sherman mounted on a donkey about as large as a Newfoundland
dog; Mary Lynch on another, trying to carry Lizzie on a pillow
before her, but her mule had a fashion of lying down, which scared
her, till I exchanged mules, and my California spurs kept that mule
on his legs. I carried Lizzie some time till she was fast asleep,
when I got our native man to carry her awhile. The child woke up,
and, finding herself in the hands of a dark-visaged man, she yelled
most lustily till I got her away. At the summit of the pass, there
was a clear-running brook, where we rested an hour, and bathed
Lizzie in its sweet waters. We then continued to the end of our
journey, and, without going to the tavern at San Juan del Sur, we
passed directly to the vessel, then at anchor about two miles out.
To reach her we engaged a native boat, which had to be kept outside
the surf. Mrs. Sherman was first taken in the arms of two stout
natives; Mary Lynch, carrying Lizzie, was carried by two others;
and I followed, mounted on the back of a strapping fellow, while
fifty or a hundred others were running to and fro, cackling like
geese.
Mary Lynch got scared at the surf, and began screaming like a fool,
when Lizzie became convulsed with fear, and one of the natives
rushed to her, caught her out of Mary's arms, and carried her
swiftly to Mrs. Sherman, who, by that time, was in the boat, but
Lizzie had fainted with fear, and for a long time sobbed as though
permanently injured. For years she showed symptoms that made us
believe she had never entirely recovered from the effects of the
scare. In due time we reached the steamer Sierra Nevada, and got a
good state-room. Our passage up the coast was pleasant enough; we
reached San Francisco; on the 15th of October, and took quarters at
an hotel on Stockton Street, near Broadway.
Major Turner remained till some time in November, when he also
departed for the East, leaving me and Nisbet to manage the bank. I
endeavored to make myself familiar with the business, but of course
Nisbet kept the books, and gave his personal attention to the
loans, discounts, and drafts, which yielded the profits. I soon
saw, however, that the three per cent. charged as premium on bills
of exchange was not all profit, but out of this had to come one and
a fourth to one and a half for freight, one and a third for
insurance, with some indefinite promise of a return premium; then,
the cost of blanks, boxing of the bullion, etc., etc. Indeed, I
saw no margin for profit at all. Nisbet, however, who had long
been familiar with the business, insisted there was a profit, in
the fact that the gold-dust or bullion shipped was more valuable
than its cost to us. We, of course, had to remit bullion to meet
our bills on New York, and bought crude gold-dust, or bars refined
by Kellogg & Humbert or E. Justh & Co., for at that time the United
States Mint was not in operation. But, as the reports of our
shipments came back from New York, I discovered that I was right,
and Nisbet was wrong; and, although we could not help selling our
checks on New York and St. Louis at the same price as other
bankers, I discovered that, at all events, the exchange business in
San Francisco was rather a losing business than profitable. The
same as to loans. We could loan, at three per cent. a month, all
our own money, say two hundred and fifty thousand dollars, and a
part of our deposit account. This latter account in California was
decidedly uncertain. The balance due depositors would run down to
a mere nominal sum on steamer-days, which were the 1st and 15th of
each month, and then would increase till the next steamer-day, so
that we could not make use of any reasonable part of this balance
for loans beyond the next steamer-day; or, in other words, we had
an expensive bank, with expensive clerks, and all the machinery for
taking care of other people's money for their benefit, without
corresponding profit. I also saw that loans were attended with
risk commensurate with the rate; nevertheless, I could not attempt
to reform the rules and customs established by others before me,
and had to drift along with the rest toward that Niagara that none
foresaw at the time.
Shortly after arriving out in 1853, we looked around for a site for
the new bank, and the only place then available on Montgomery
Street, the Wall Street of San Francisco, was a lot at the corner
of Jackson Street, facing Montgomery, with an alley on the north,
belonging to James Lick. The ground was sixty by sixty-two feet,
and I had to pay for it thirty-two thousand dollars. I then made a
contract with the builders, Keyser, & Brown, to erect a three-story
brick building, with finished basement, for about fifty thousand
dollars. This made eighty-two thousand instead of fifty thousand
dollars, but I thought Mr. Lucas could stand it and would approve,
which he did, though it resulted in loss to him. After the civil
war, he told me he had sold the building for forty thousand
dollars, about half its cost, but luckily gold was then at 250, so
that he could use the forty thousand dollars gold as the equivalent
of one hundred thousand dollars currency. The building was
erected; I gave it my personal supervision, and it was strongly and
thoroughly built, for I saw it two years ago, when several
earthquakes had made no impression on it; still, the choice of site
was unfortunate, for the city drifted in the opposite direction,
viz., toward Market Street. I then thought that all the heavy
business would remain toward the foot of Broadway and Jackson
Street, because there were the deepest water and best wharves, but
in this I made a mistake. Nevertheless, in the spring of 1854, the
new bank was finished, and we removed to it, paying rents
thereafter to our Mr. Lucas instead of to Adams & Co. A man named
Wright, during the same season, built a still finer building just
across the street from us; Pioche, Bayerque & Co. were already
established on another corner of Jackson Street, and the new
Metropolitan Theatre was in progress diagonally opposite us.
During the whole of 1854 our business steadily grew, our average
deposits going up to half a million, and our sales of exchange and
consequent shipment of bullion averaging two hundred thousand
dollars per steamer. I signed all bills of exchange, and insisted
on Nisbet consulting me on loans and discounts. Spite of every
caution, however, we lost occasionally by bad loans, and worse by
the steady depreciation of real estate. The city of San Francisco
was then extending her streets, sewering them, and planking them,
with three-inch lumber. In payment for the lumber and the work of
contractors, the city authorities paid scrip in even sums of one
hundred, five hundred, one thousand, and five thousand dollars.
These formed a favorite collateral for loans at from fifty to sixty
cents on the dollar, and no one doubted their ultimate value,
either by redemption or by being converted into city bonds.
The notes also of H. Meiggs, Neeley Thompson & Co., etc.,
lumber-dealers, were favorite notes, for they paid their interest
promptly, and lodged large margins of these street-improvement
warrants as collateral. At that time, Meiggs was a prominent man,
lived in style in a large house on Broadway, was a member of the
City Council, and owned large saw-mills up the coast about
Mendocino. In him Nisbet had unbounded faith, but, for some
reason, I feared or mistrusted him, and remember that I cautioned
Nisbet not to extend his credit, but to gradually contract his
loans. On looking over our bills receivable, then about six
hundred thousand dollars, I found Meiggs, as principal or indorser,
owed us about eighty thousand dollars--all, however, secured by
city warrants; still, he kept bank accounts elsewhere, and was
generally a borrower. I instructed Nisbet to insist on his
reducing his line as the notes matured, and, as he found it
indelicate to speak to Meiggs, I instructed him to refer him to me;
accordingly, when, on the next steamer-day, Meiggs appealed at the
counter for a draft on Philadelphia, of about twenty thousand
dollars, for which he offered his note and collateral, he was
referred to me, and I explained to him that our draft was the same
as money; that he could have it for cash, but that we were already
in advance to him some seventy-five or eighty thousand dollars, and
that instead of increasing the amount I must insist on its
reduction. He inquired if I mistrusted his ability, etc. I
explained, certainly not, but that our duty was to assist those who
did all their business with us, and, as our means were necessarily
limited, I must restrict him to some reasonable sum, say,
twenty-five thousand dollars. Meiggs invited me to go with him to a
rich mercantile house on Clay Street, whose partners belonged in
Hamburg, and there, in the presence of the principals of the house,
he demonstrated, as clearly as a proposition in mathematics, that
his business at Mendocino was based on calculations that could not
fail. The bill of exchange which he wanted, he said would make the
last payment on a propeller already built in Philadelphia, which
would be sent to San Francisco, to tow into and out of port the
schooners and brigs that were bringing his lumber down the coast. I
admitted all he said, but renewed my determination to limit his
credit to twenty-five thousand dollars. The Hamburg firm then
agreed to accept for him the payment of all his debt to us, except
the twenty-five thousand dollars, payable in equal parts for the
next three steamer-days. Accordingly, Meiggs went back with me to
our bank, wrote his note for twenty-five thousand dollars, and
secured it by mortgage on real estate and city warrants, and
substituted the three acceptances of the Hamburg firm for the
overplus. I surrendered to him all his former notes, except one for
which he was indorser. The three acceptances duly matured and were
paid; one morning Meiggs and family were missing, and it was
discovered they had embarked in a sailing-vessel for South America.
This was the beginning of a series of failures in San Francisco,
that extended through the next two years. As soon as it was known
that Meiggs had fled, the town was full of rumors, and everybody was
running to and fro to secure his money. His debts amounted to
nearly a million dollars. The Hamburg house which, had been
humbugged, were heavy losers and failed, I think. I took possession
of Meiggs's dwelling-house and other property for which I held his
mortgage, and in the city warrants thought I had an overplus; but it
transpired that Meiggs, being in the City Council, had issued
various quantities of street scrip, which was adjudged a forgery,
though, beyond doubt, most of it, if not all, was properly signed,
but fraudulently issued. On this city scrip our bank must have lost
about ten thousand dollars. Meiggs subsequently turned up in Chili,
where again he rose to wealth and has paid much of his San Francisco
debts, but none to us. He is now in Peru, living like a prince.
With Meiggs fell all the lumber-dealers, and many persons dealing in
city scrip. Compared with others, our loss was a trifle. In a
short time things in San Francisco resumed their wonted course, and
we generally laughed at the escapade of Meiggs, and the cursing of
his deluded creditors.
Shortly after our arrival in San Francisco, I rented of a Mr.
Marryat, son of the English Captain Marryat, the author, a small
frame-house on Stockton Street, near Green, buying of him his
furniture, and we removed to it about December 1,1853. Close by,
around on Green Street, a man named Dickey was building two small
brick-houses, on ground which he had leased of Nicholson. I bought
one of these houses, subject to the ground-rent, and moved into it
as soon as finished. Lieutenant T. H. Stevens, of the United
States Navy, with his family, rented the other; we lived in this
house throughout the year 1854, and up to April 17, 1855.