This whole episode proved to be a turning-point in Keith's career. His
revulsion against the feminine--hence society--side of life brought
about by the affair of Mrs. Morrell, might soon have passed, and he
might soon have returned to the old round of picnics, excursions,
dinners, and parties, were it not that coincidentally a new and
absorbing occupation was thrust upon him. Dick Blatchford's case was
only one of many that came to him. He became completely immersed in the
fascinating intricacies of the law.
As has been previously pointed out, nowhere before nor since has pure
legality been made such a fetish. It was a game played by lawyers, not
an attempt to get justice done. Since, in all criminal cases at least,
the prosecution was carried on by one man and his associates, poorly
paid and hence of mediocre ability, and the defence conducted by the
keenest brains in the profession, it followed that convictions were
rare. Homicide in various forms was little frowned upon. Duels were of
frequent occurrence, and, in several instances, regular excursions,
with tickets, were organized to see them. Street shootings of a more
informal nature were too numerous to count. Invariably an attempt,
generally successful, was made to arrest the homicide. If he had money,
he hired the best lawyers, and rested secure. If he had no money, he
disappeared for a time. Almost everybody had enough money, or enough
friends with money, to adopt the former course. Of 1,200 murders--or
"killings"--committed in the San Francisco of those days, there was
just _one_ legal conviction!
It was a point of professional pride with a lawyer to get his client
free. Indeed, to fail would be equivalent to losing a very easy game.
The whole battery of technical delays, demurrers, etc., was at his
command; a much larger battery than even the absurd criminal courts of
our present day can muster. Delays to allow the dispersal of witnesses
were easily arranged for, as were changes of venue to courts either
prejudiced in favour of the strict interpretation of "law" or frankly
venal. Of shadier expedients, such as packing juries, there seemed no
end.
Your honourable, high-minded lawyers--which meant the well-dressed and
prosperous--had nothing to do with such dirty work; that is, directly.
There were plenty of lawyers not so honourable and high minded called
in as "counsel." These little lawyers, shoulder strikers, bribe givers
and takers, were held in good-humoured contempt by the legal stars--who
employed them! Actual dishonesty was diluted through a number of men.
Packing a jury was a fine art. Initially was needed connivance at the
sheriff's office. Hence lawyers, as a class, were in politics. Neither
the stellar lawyer nor the sheriff knew any of the details of the
transaction. A sum of money went to the former's "counsel" as expenses,
and emerged, considerably diminished, in the sheriff's office as
"perquisites." It had gone from the counsel to somebody like Mex Ryan,
from him to various plug-uglies, ward heelers, shoulder strikers, from
them to one or another of the professional jurymen, and then on the
upward curve through the sheriff's underlings who made out the jury
lists to Webb himself. The thing was done.
In this tortuous way many influences were needed. The most honest
lawyer's limit as to the queer things he would do depended on his
individual conscience. It is extraordinary what long training and the
moral support of a whole profession will do toward educating a
conscience. Do not despise unduly the lawyers of that day. We have all
of us good friends in the legal profession who will defend in court a
criminal they know to be guilty as charged. They will urge that no man
should go undefended; and will argue themselves into a belief that in
such a case "defence" means not merely fair play, but a desperate
effort to get him off anyhow--trained conscience. If such sophistries
are sincerely believed by honest men nowadays, it cannot be wondered at
that queerer sophistries passed current in a community not five years
old. It was difficult to draw the line between the men who mistakenly
believed themselves honest and those who knew themselves dishonest.
But once in politics there could be no end. In this field the law
rubbed shoulders with big contracts, big operations. A city was being
built, in a few years, out of nothing, by a busy, careless, and
shifting population. The opportunities for making money on public
works--either honestly or by jobbery--were almost unlimited. The mood
of the times was extravagant. From the still unexhausted placers poured
a flood of gold, hard money, tangible wealth; and a large percentage of
it paused in San Francisco, changed hands before continuing its
journey. Immigrants brought with them a lesser but still significant
sum. Money was easy. People could and would pay high taxes without a
thought, for they would rather pay well to be let alone than bother
with public affairs. The city treasury should have been full to
bursting. In addition, the municipality was rich in its real estate.
The value of all land had gone up immensely; any time more cash was
needed it could quickly be raised by the sale of public lots. The
supply seemed inexhaustible.
Like hyenas to a kill the public contractors gathered. Immense public
works were undertaken at enormous prices. Paving, sewers, grading,
filling, lighting, wharves, buildings Were all voted; and the work
completed in the quickest, flimsiest, most slipshod fashion; and at
terrible prices. The Graham House, a pretentious frail structure that
had failed as a hotel because a swamp lay between it and the city, was
bought at a huge price to serve as city hall. It was a veritable white
elephant, and even the busy populace spared time to grumble at the
flagrant steal. Nobody knew what it would cost to make the thing
habitable even. Soon, to every one's relief, it burned down. The
property was then swindled over to Peter Smith. The Jenny Lind Theatre,
an impossible, ramshackle structure, was purchased over the vigorous
protest of every decent citizen, for the enormous sum of $300,000.
Another $100,000 was alleged to have been spent in remodelling and
furnishing it. Then it was solemnly declared "unsuited to the purpose."
It also burned down in one of the numerous fires. But the money was
safe!
To get such deals as these through "legally" it was of course necessary
that officials, councilmen, engineers, etc., should be sympathetic.
Naturally the big operators, as well as the big lawyers, had to go into
politics. Elections came soon to be so many farces. In some wards no
decent citizen dared show his face. "Shoulder strikers" were openly
hired for purposes of intimidation. Bribery was scarcely concealed. And
if things looked doubtful, there were always the election inspectors
and judges in reserve who could be relied upon to make things come out
right in the final count. The proper men were always returned as
elected. If violence or fraud were alleged, lawyers always got the
accused off in a strictly legal manner.
In these matters, it must be repeated, no opprobrium ever rested on
either the big lawyers or the big operators. "Expenses" went to the
underlings, and after some mysterious subterranean manipulation, of
which the big fellows remained blandly unconscious, results came back.
In the world of public works Keith rapidly made himself a position. He
was leading counsel for Dick Blatchford and one or two others. His job
was to know all the rules of the game so well that there were no
comebacks; to set the machinery in motion by which the contracts were
procured; and to straighten out any irregularities that might arise
afterward. His position was almost academic. The matters he fought and
decided were so detached from actuality, as far as he was concerned,
that they might have been hypothetical cases. When Dick wanted anything
specific, Keith instructed Patsy Corrigan to see that the proper
officials awarded the contract. If the matter ever came to the courts,
Keith furnished the brains and Patsy somehow "saw" the sheriff and
whoever was necessary from the mysterious underworld. Everybody was
doing the same thing. In the minds of men profits of any sort were
legitimate provided they were "legal," but especially against so vague
an entity as a community. Civic consciousness had not been born in
them, for the simple reason that the city was constituted perfectly to
suit them. Only when men are dissatisfied with their government do they
seek to become responsible for it. There was no active public opinion
against them. Men were too busy to bother with such things.
Occasionally a fairly vigorous protest against some peculiarly
outrageous steal made itself heard, but the men who made it were either
cranks or it was suspected they had been pinched in some way. They
merely represented the opposition any active man expects.
And every last one of these merry, jovial pirates was inordinately
proud of the ship he was helping to scuttle! That one fact, attentively
considered, explains much.
The city was growing, it was taking on a permanent character. In spite
of waste, shoddy work, and frequent fires, its vitality was triumphant.
The sand hills had all been graded flat, and the material from them had
filled in the water lots of the bay; miles of fireproof brick
structures had been built on four or five streets; there were now a
half score of long wharves instead of one; omnibuses ran everywhere;
fine steamers plied to fashionable watering places about the bay; the
planks in the streets were being replaced by cobblestones; telegraph
service had been inaugurated to San José and Sacramento; several new
theatres had been built; gas lamps were being placed about the streets;
huge wooden palaces with much scrollwork ornamentation were being built
on Stockton Street and the Rincon Hill. All these things, as well as
the climate, the mines, the agricultural resources, the commerce, the
scenery, were fully appreciated and enthusiastically made the most of
by every mother's son. Any man among them was ready at a moment's
notice to wax enthusiastic about the resources and the future of the
place. They were "boosters" in the modern acceptation of the term.