ELECTIONS--EXECUTIONS--REFORMS--EXILES--“KNOW
NOTHINGS”--TESTIMONIALS--SPEAKING TRUMPETS--OCEAN
STEAMERS--LIFE-BUOYS--AIR-BOATS--CONFIDENCE NECESSARY--FITTING A
RAFT--A SUGGESTION.
_March, 1852._
When I arrived at San Francisco, I found the authorities very busy
altering the grades of the streets, and covering them with planks.
As the rear of the town had been built on sand, at an elevation of some
twenty feet above the new grade, the houses there had soon the
appearance of being built on the edge of a dry ravine, into which most
of them tumbled one by one. These house-slips would generally take place
by night, but as the buildings were of the band-box style of
architecture no harm was done when one of them rolled down the hill,
further than an awful smashing of the domestic crockery. Those tenements
that outlived this trying season, were seized with a panic, and changed
their quarters.
Some were raised bodily by means of lever screws, and being placed on
rollers, were pushed and hauled into a position of safety, whilst the
very small ones were removed down the ravine by the help of half-a-dozen
yoke of oxen, and were planted somewhere else; but the appearance of
these was so far marred by this operation, that they presented ever
afterwards a crushed appearance, and the two front windows seemed to
squint.
The Americans are very clever at raising houses and removing them; I
have often seen one prised from one side of the street to the other
without injury, and a house that I have since inhabited in San
Francisco, was raised bodily four feet, to correspond with the new
grade, without in any way interfering with our internal arrangements.
Brick houses have thus been raised and a new basement built under them;
but one peculiarity is apparent after all is completed, that the doors
and windows that have been left open cannot be afterwards shut, and
those that have been shut cannot, by the same rule, be opened.
I was present at more than one of the general elections at San
Francisco, and in connection with this ceremony lies one of the greatest
drawbacks of the country.
Setting aside the means by which governors and legislators are brought
into office by a majority of votes, I will take the case alone of the
elected judges of the state of California. Many who have barely a
knowledge of common law, here come forward for the office of judge, and
are elected--how, it matters not--but such men have been elevated to the
bench, and once there, have detracted as much from its dignity as men
well could. Murderers passed and re-passed before them unpunished, and
this in part gave rise to the actions of the Vigilance Committee.
It has been unfortunate for California that the elections have been long
controlled by a dishonest class, the least likely to support such
candidates as would place a check upon crime; however, the press of the
country and the people, are fully alive to the existence of this
evil,[27] and it is possible that before long, the Judiciary will be
appointed by the governor and senate, when good men, of whom there are
plenty, will come forward for office.
It has been very difficult to get a jury to convict a murderer in this
country; I am puzzled to say why, for self-interest would dictate an
unusual degree of severity--still the fact stands, that in twelve
hundred murders, but two men have been publicly executed. One man
acting under jealousy, ill-founded as it appeared on trial, walked up
behind his victim in the street, and then and there blew his brains out;
yet the jury would not convict this man, and he was sentenced to a
year’s imprisonment only.
The judge should not have been bound by such a verdict, for either the
man was guilty of cold-blooded murder, or was altogether innocent.
The press,[28] which has vastly improved in California, has taken a firm
stand in opposition to this evil, and before long I have no doubt that
the criminal law will be wholesomely administered there. We must not
expect perfection in a self-regulated colony of six years’ growth,
particularly when we remember that law reform and integrity of election
occupy attention in older countries.
When once the seed of reform is implanted in California, it grows with
great rapidity. It may be that the greatest sinners make the greatest
saints, but certainly, the most carelessly dissipated community that
ever was brought together, have already, in their new position, enacted
laws for the complete overthrow of many of those so called “necessary
evils” that are borne with in cities of older growth, and more
self-assumed wisdom, and infinitely greater professions of sanctity.
It is said that one surfeit of raspberry-tarts will produce, in the
pastrycook’s boy, a permanent nausea for these luscious things; thus
with Californians, they have seen vice and debauchery in so awful a
shape, that in the reaction of feeling more good is being done to the
country as regards sweeping reform, than would have happened in twenty
times the time had the early colonists been at the first but ordinarily
virtuous. The thorn is extracted at once, and there is an end of
temporising and preaching, which lead to nothing at times, as any one
may see who will visit some of our cathedral cities, and learn something
of the statistics of the immorality which exists within them, and the
number of divines who are there to raise their voices against it.
One of the Irish convicts who had escaped by breaking his parole,
arrived in San Francisco about this time, and was feasted and made much
of by a certain class who are to be found in many parts of the United
States, and are monomaniacs on the subject of America opening her arms
and welcoming to her soil the political exiles of other countries.
The free hospitality which America extends to exiles of all classes, is
to be admired; what a pity, then, to detract from its dignity by a
vulgar “émeute,” which, after all, is extended as much to a singer or
fiddler, as to a (so-called) champion of liberty. But the exiles
generally do not seem to improve on acquaintance, and the days of
triumphal entry are passed for them, and no wonder; for they are not
always grateful.
Take the case of one who, being welcomed to the United States, at once
devotes his energies to the production of a journal which will not only
arouse political bitterness on the spot, but carefully keeps alive what
remnant of bigotted hostility to England yet slumbers in the country.
Now, as the man who sows discord between this country and America, is an
enemy as much of the latter as of the former, is it not inconsistent
that such a one should be be-speeched and be-dinnered on his arrival?
However, a man may be bowed obsequiously into a house, only to be kicked
on acquaintance ignominiously out of it, and I imagine that more than
one political refugee in America will live to experience a similar
reverse of fortune.
The “Know Nothings” it would appear have set their faces against
foreigners holding office in the United States. If this political sect
would exert their influence to prevent rabid runaway rebels, who land
among them, from revenging themselves by exciting animosity against the
country that has cast them off, they would do a great deal of good to
the United States.
And indeed, as regards the exclusion of naturalised subjects from
office, the “Know Nothings” are, in my opinion, right to a certain
extent; for if we divide those who swear allegiance to the United States
into two classes, we have firstly the poor emigrants who leave an
over-populated country to spread themselves, in obedience as it were to
a law of nature, over the vast unpeopled forests and plains of a new
continent, and secondly the educated class who can do well at home but
can _do better_ by forsaking one flag to cling (as long as it suits
them) to another. This class are known as “Whitewashed Yankees,” a term
that may be complimentary, but does not sound like it. It is from this
educated class of naturalised subjects that the aspirants for office
step forward, and under all the circumstances, I am not surprised that a
large sect of Americans now oppose them. For it appears to me, that a
man who has felt so little patriotism for his native land as to abjure
it formally from interested motives, is not likely to remain faithful to
the new country he adopts, any longer than suits his purpose. His
motives are at the best, based on self, and he is consequently not the
best qualified either to hold office or to conduct the public press.[29]
There is a disproportionate number of jewellers and goldsmiths in San
Francisco, yet all drive a flourishing business. Two articles are in
great demand, viz., gold watches, and silver speaking-trumpets. Nearly
every one in California has a gold watch--every nigger has, I am sure,
and very much dignity does a “coloured person” exhibit whenever he draws
out his ponderous gold turnip, the chain of which is nearly as large as
the cable of a ten-gun brig.
The speaking-trumpets, of which so many may be seen in the jewellers’
shop fronts, are accounted for by the habit the San Franciscans have of
presenting a testimonial to the Captain of any ship who may have brought
them safely into port. This testimonial is almost invariably a
speaking-trumpet, which is tendered to the skipper, with a request that
he will blow it, from the undersigned, &c., &c. This mania became so
strong at one time, that if the captain of any Oregon schooner with a
cargo of lumber arrived in safety with two passengers and a dog, there
was no knowing what honours awaited him; at least a letter of thanks
from the passengers and dog, but probably a speaking-trumpet; so that
soon there was more ridicule than honour attached to these testimonials.
When nearing San Francisco one day in a noble steam-ship, whereof the
captain had done his duty by piloting the ship in safety and attending
to the comforts of his passengers, a gentleman arose towards the close
of our last dinner on board, and amidst profound silence, commenced
eulogising our skipper. I sat next to this latter, and when the orator
continued, “therefore gentlemen it has been moved and carried by a
committee of the passengers, that to mark the high sense they
entertain,” the poor skipper turned to me with anguish in his eyes, and
whispered, “By G--d, they’re going to give me a speaking-trumpet.” He
was right, too, and got a tremendous one; however, I whispered comfort
to him, and showed him how, by putting a bottom to the large end of the
trumpet, and a handle at the top, it would make a splendid claret jug,
capable of holding a gallon at least, and then suggested I, “you might
erase the inscription, and say you won it at a steeplechase.” Whether he
followed this wholesome advice or not I never heard.
I secured my passage on board the “Northerner,” and started on my way to
England, in company with about two hundred and fifty passengers. The
weather was delightful, and the wharf was crowded with friends who had
come down to see us off: the partings were not very heart-rending; in
fact, the great joke seemed to consist in those who were on the wharf
pelting us with oranges and cheap novels as we cast off.
As we steamed out of the bay and lost sight of the busy city at last, we
could not but think of the changes and reverses that all of us had been
witness to, and most of us had shared. I for my part, as I recalled the
noble courage with which misfortune had been borne with by the people,
echoed the remark that Smith and Jones had made conjointly on the ruins
of the first fire.
SMITH. It’s a great country!
JONES. It’s nothing shorter!
We were very comfortable on board, and arrived at Panama, so much
pleased with the ship and the voyage, that it was lucky for the captain
that there were no speaking-trumpets to be purchased at Panama; as it
was, we did not let him off without a letter of thanks--and our thanks
in one form or the other he certainly deserved; his name was Isham.
Captains of ocean steamers do not always perform their duty, many are
apt to forget that more devolves upon them than mere seamanship, some
forget even this.
In the great points, of cleanliness as regards the ship, attention to
the real wants of the passengers, and a judicious arbitration of such
little outbreaks as will occur in crowded vessels, the commanders of the
Pacific Mail Steam Ship Line (to which the “Northerner” belonged)
deservedly enjoy a reputation. The ocean steamers on this line, as also
on the opposition, which takes the Nicaragua route, are magnificent
vessels. Many of them are over three thousand tons burden, and are very
fast and beautifully found. Ventilated with open ports two feet square
between each state-room, they are comfortable and wholesome even when
carrying eight hundred passengers; and it is the want of ventilation
that makes a crowded ship unbearable anywhere, and in the tropics
unhealthy.
A large proportion of ocean steamers are wretchedly off in this respect,
and travellers in the East or West Indies are often limited when under
hatches to such air as can penetrate through a scuttle hole about the
size of a saucer.
One American steam ship, the “George Law,” possesses what I have never
met with in any other boat; she has not only life-boats[30] suspended
from her davits on all sides, but she has two metal air-boats elevated
on deck, that can be launched _immediately under any circumstances_.
Besides these boats there are on board several hundred life-buoys, one
of these being suspended to each bunk throughout the ship. These
life-buoys are formed of cork and painted canvas, and have straps to
fasten them under the arms. As I recall the fearful and unnecessary loss
of life that has been recorded in the last two years, I have scarcely
patience when I reflect how much of it might have been avoided had each
passenger, as on board the “George Law,” been provided with ten
shillings worth of cork and canvas. I was ten days on board the “George
Law,” and each night as I went to bed, my eyes were arrested by my
life-buoy. It said plainly to me, did this life-buoy, (not knowing that
I was a sailor by profession) “Collisions will take place, spontaneous
combustion will break out, and sunken wrecks and rocks and sand-banks
will be run upon; should any of these occur, will you not quietly buckle
me on, being _prepared by your daily contemplation of me for any such
emergency_, and will you not then calmly assist wherever you are wanted,
in the full confidence that even if the ship sinks under you, you can
float without exertion until you are picked up by the life-boats?”
Certainly the contemplation of a life-buoy by one’s bed-side, will bring
such thoughts to mind, and by keeping the danger before each man night
and day, prepares him when the hour comes, to act coolly and
reflectively. But we may look farther even than this; if the presence of
life-buoys accustoms passengers to contemplate danger, and to meet it
calmly when it comes, does it not stand to reason that the captain and
crew of a sinking vessel are better able to exert themselves for the
safety of the vessel, or otherwise the lowering and _provisioning_ of
boats, when the passengers, confident in their cork and canvas, are
calmly awaiting the _order_ to jump overboard, instead of at once
plunging into the waves, only to struggle and call piteously for help,
thus unmanning some and rendering others unable to assist them. How many
boats have been successfully lowered from a sinking ship, but being
overloaded too suddenly, have turned over and drowned all that could not
swim: would this be so if all had life-buoys? How many boats have left a
ship in the dark night but half full, fearing the impetuous rush which a
panic-struck crowd would make at it if again it touched the ship’s
sides? Yet the cost of such a buoy is but ten shillings, and that of a
life-boat thirty pounds.
It may be said that every passenger can carry his own life-preserver,
and that most do so: this is nothing; it gives me no increased
confidence to know that Muggins who sleeps next to me has an
India-rubber bag that he can blow out each night before turning in. The
advantage of disposing life-buoys throughout the ship, as in the “George
Law,” is in the general confidence which their presence gives to all,
and when the moment of danger comes, that ten shillings’ worth of cork
and canvas will enable those who cannot swim to keep above water, and
those who can swim to double their exertions to form a raft and save the
helpless. There is not, to my knowledge, an ocean steamer that leaves
England that is properly found in this respect, nor will there be until
government inspectors are appointed to see that they are supplied with
life-boats that can be lowered in all weather, and do not necessarily
swamp if a “fall” gives way, or bilge as they surge against the vessel’s
side. And captains of vessels should be made to keep their boats clear,
so far as this, that falls should be kept clear for running, and
lashings and gripes so secured as _easily to be cast off_, precautions
which are seldom taken.
Judging not only by the details we receive from the survivors of lost
ships, but from what actually comes before our notice as we travel to
and fro, it appears as a fact indisputable, that not only are steamboats
ill supplied with the requisites for saving life in case of shipwreck,
but that what they have are seldom of use when wanted. With long boats
on board that can only be hoisted out under favourable circumstances,
cutters and gigs at the davits lashed and secured, and covered with
tarpaulin, filled with hay perhaps, or vegetables, containing neither
oars, compass, or tow-rope, is it a wonder that in nearly every case of
shipwreck we find the loss of life aggravated by the confusion and
mismanagement which accompanies the lowering of boats, or the attempted
construction of a raft? A few hundred pounds would amply supply every
ship with the requisites for preservation of life in addition to those
they already possess, and of what account is this sum in the grand total
of the cost of a steam-ship? Air-boats, or life-buoys, are by no means
perishable or costly articles, but how much less sad would have been the
history of sinking and burning troop-ships, had they been supplied with
them?[31]
Of what avail is the splendid discipline and admirable courage that is
displayed by soldiers in burning and sinking ships, when each man has
but to wait the hour when he must go overboard and drown helplessly. I
would not only have each soldier in a troop-ship provided with a
life-buoy, but I would also that each man, previous to sailing, should
be made to go once into deep water with the life-buoy on, so that he
might be convinced in smooth water that the cork would uphold his
weight--a fact more difficult to believe when the trial has to take
place in a hurricane, and from a sinking ship.
Each vessel carries (or rather should carry) a sufficient number of
spare spars to replace those that may be carried away; there is seldom a
call for the largest of these in a well-managed ship, yet they form part
of her furniture, and are generally lashed on deck or under the chains.
By a little management these spare topmasts and yards might be so
fitted, without impairing their utility, as to form a raft, in
conjunction with casks, in a very short time. The crew might be
practised shortly after leaving port at launching these spars and
connecting them; the passengers would be instructed equally with the
crew; and in emigrant and troop ships those who could swim might at once
be sent overboard (with their life-buoys) to assist in the construction
of the raft.[32]
To make this more plain, let us suppose a ship, whether carrying troops,
emigrants or passengers, to be twenty-four hours out of port; an order
is posted up that all hands are to muster on deck with their life-buoys
at a given hour, when the fire-bell will be sounded. The ship or steamer
is hove to, the spars are unlashed, launched, and the raft is put
together, the boats are lowered, and the passengers then see at least
that the means of safety are provided for them. Those that can swim can
go overboard if they please and lend a hand. Hoist everything on board,
and you have lost perhaps three hours of your passage time, but a vast
deal has been accomplished towards saving life, if the ship that night
should run upon a rock and perish. Everything would be in its place, and
all that could be done would be done.
I fear that there would be much opposition to such a plan on board
passenger ships, for when danger is far off there is little disposition
to submit to any arbitrary regulations, even though adopted for their
own safety; but in emigrant and troop ships the practice might be
enforced. I would have troops and emigrants mustered regularly with
their life-buoys on, and the swimmers formed into a squad with a
certain duty appointed for them. Each man should know his station in the
hour of danger, and the fire-bell be sounded once a week for practice. A
little ingenuity in the formation of buoys, adapted to the peculiarities
of the frame of the raft, would so secure a large body of men in the
frame that, even if they perished from exposure or starvation, they
would still be found there floating, and although suspense might have
made death more terrible to them, this would be preferable to their
being washed off one by one, after vain attempts to cling to rolling
casks, and spars, and hen-coops, lashed together, with no more system
than the urgency of the moment suggested to the few who, under ordinary
circumstances, are prepared, in case of shipwreck, to make a rational
effort for the preservation of their lives; for the want of a lashing,
or an axe, or a tow-rope for a boat at such times will peril the lives
of all; but, when all is provided, confidence and courage are there
also, and life may be saved.
They say drowning men will catch at a straw; let us give our brave
soldiers something to catch at, in the hour of emergency, that will
serve to keep them at least a short time above water; and let our “Royal
Mail lines” take some precautions of this nature for their passengers,
and charge for it extra, if they like, in the passage money.
Shortly after the loss of the “Amazon” I was taking a passage in one of
the West India boats, and I observed that, in the ship’s fire bill,
which was exposed, the crew and officers only had been stationed. I
ventured to suggest to the captain that an extra clause might be
inserted, to the effect that those passengers who chose to render
assistance in case of fire should assemble with their blankets in some
part of the ship specified, there to be placed under the charge of one
of the ship’s officers; for it seemed to me that, daily perusing such a
regulation, a hundred able-bodied passengers would be found, at the
sound of the fire-bell, ready with their blankets, which, under the
direction of an officer, they would proceed to wet if necessary. This
plan, I thought, would not only render the passengers useful, but would
keep them away from the boats, and, being prepared to act as a
disciplined body in case of danger, the silence so necessary in these
cases would be observed among them. The captain did not agree with me;
but, as he did not inform me how I was in error, I was led to believe
that captains of large boats get testy sometimes from serving in the
Tropics, and object to passengers having any opinion in matters
connected with their own safety.