The federal census of 1860 gave California 379,984 inhabitants and
San Francisco 56,802. Historian Bancroft informs us that here was "a
gathering without a parallel in history." It may be said that the whole
history and development of California is without parallel. The story
reads not so much like the orderly growth of a civilized community as
a series of unrelated and episodical events. There is little of logical
order or sequence, and much of surprise, adventure, of conflict and
crisis. Said an aged philosopher, "It is the unexpected that happens,"
a saying illustrated if anywhere in the world, in the history of the
Golden State.
Although discovered early in the sixteenth century by adventurous
Spaniards, no serious attempt was made at settlement of any portion of
the territory now included in the boundaries of California until the
year 1769, when Father Junipero Serra arrived at the Bay of San
Diego. Then followed a half century constituting the Mission Period of
California history, during which Spanish Governors and Franciscan
Friars ruled the land. Inspired more by religious zeal than by lust
of conquest, or hope of gain, the Spanish Padres planted a chain of
missions extending from San Diego to the Bay of San Francisco. At these
missions, consisting often, at the beginning, of nothing more than a
rude cross and altar, with some miserable make-shift of tent or huts as
protection from the heat of summer and the cold of winter, the faithful
priests labored to convert the surrounding Indians. They tried to make
of them not alone good Catholics, but good farmers, and vineyardists,
and according to the need of the time, capable carpenters and builders.
As the result of their labors a long period of simple prosperity was
enjoyed at the missions. Buildings were erected that still delight the
traveler. They were for the most part of Moorish architecture, built of
adobe, painted white, with red-tile roofs, long corridors and ever the
secluded plaza where the friar might tell his beads in peace. Around the
missions, some twenty in number, lying a day's journey apart between the
southern and the central bay, Indian workers cultivated immense fields
of grain, choice vineyards, olive orchards and orange groves; great
herds of horses, cattle, and sheep were cared for, and the women became
adept at weaving and spinning. Nor were the Spanish Governors idle. They
encouraged the immigration of settlers both from the mother country and
Mexico by a most liberal policy, assisting the newcomer to build a home,
acquire stock, and establish himself in a country where there was an
abundance of game, and where the earth yielded her bounty with the
minimum of labor. Thus in the half century between 1770 and 1820,
these Pius Padres laid the foundations of California, as they believed
securely, after Catholic and Spanish tradition.
Not securely so it proved, for in 1822 Mexico won her independence
from Spain, both political and religious. The California Padres being
Spaniards naturally suffered persecution at the hands of successive
Mexican Governors, who were envious of the lands, orchards and herds
of domestic animals belonging to the various missions. Ruthlessly the
Friars were plundered of their well tilled fields, their fine vineyards,
their flocks and herds, and their Indian converts were enticed or
driven into the service of the new Masters of the country. Some of these
officials were of Spanish blood and some of Mexican but now they proudly
called themselves, Californians. And proudly they lived, these Spanish
and Mexican Dons. Owning immense tracts of land, riding upon fleet
horses, relieved of all necessity of honest work, they soon became in
their manner of living, veritable hidalgoes.
Vain, ridiculously boastful, pleasure chasers, they loved above all else
the frolic, the dance, and a good horse. All the way from San Diego
to Shasta were located the immense ranchoes, more than six hundred in
number, ever since celebrated in song and story. This was the period so
often called by poetic writers the Romantic Age of California. Although
much of the glamor of the dear old days of plenty and pleasure has been
dispelled by the careful researches of conscientious scholars, it must
still be admitted that here also were developed certain characteristics
and here a kind of foundation for the future laid, ignorant of which we
can not understand either the California of 1860 or even the State as we
of today know and love it. If it is true that the first settlers in any
community leave a lasting impress upon after generations it is evident
that the Franciscan and Spanish background of California must be
reviewed as we approach the more serious days of American conflict and
conquest.
Although the first American settler arrived in California in 1816 his
example seems to have been without effect for in 1822 there were but
fourteen persons not of Mexican or Spanish blood in all the province.
In the early '40's emigrants from the "States" began to come in parties,
but so slowly that by January 1, 1848, the entire population (not
including Indians) numbered only 14,000, and Yerba Buena (San Francisco)
the only Pueblo of any size contained barely 900 inhabitants. This be
it noted was but twelve years before the arrival of Starr King, so close
was the old aristocratic rule of Spain to that stirring conflict in
which he was to become a central figure.
As we have already observed it is the unexpected that happens in
California history. In this same month of January, 1848, gold was
discovered in the upper Sacramento Valley, an event that rivals the
discovery of America by Columbus, if regarded in the light of results
affecting the development of modern society. "The Gold that Drew the
World" so Edwin Markham heads his story of that strange hegira
which converted far-away California into a new Mecca and made of
San Francisco, that sleepy Spanish Pueblo, in a few months' time a
cosmopolitan city of fifty thousand people. Two years earlier, as a
result of the Mexican War, California had been declared an American
Territory, though not formally ceded to the United States until February
2, 1848. It was generally believed that the Mexican War had been waged
and California acquired in the interest of negro slavery. James Russell
Lowell voices this belief in the Bigelow papers as follows:
"They just wanted this California
So's to lug new slave states in,
To abuse ye and to scorn ye,
And to plunder ye like sin."
However this may have been, it is certain that among the immigrants
of the fifty's there was a large number of forceful and brilliant men,
loving the old South, and fully determined to swing the new state into
line as a pro-slavery asset. It is true they were not strong enough to
prevent the adoption in 1849 of a constitution prohibiting slavery,
yet for all that, as Southern men they rejoiced when September 9, 1850,
California was admitted to the Union.
It is no part of our purpose to give in detail the strange story of
California during her first ten years as an American Commonwealth. By
1850 her population had increased to 120,000 people, mostly young men
drawn by the lure of gold from every quarter of the civilized world,
including not less than 4000 Chinese. Yet the majority were Americans,
and of the Americans the larger number were from the slave states. Nor
was this condition much altered up to the outbreak of the Civil War.
Trustworthy authorities estimate that not less than forty per cent of
her entire population were at that time of Southern birth, naturally
Democratic in politics and for the most part pro-slavery in sentiment.
It should be remembered that during the decade under consideration
the national government was under the brilliant leadership of the
slave-masters who were ever alert as to the attitude of this new
Eldorado of the West. Consequently every position of trust and honor
under national control in California was given to "safe men" whose
attitude towards the "peculiar institution" was favorable beyond
suspicion. To such an extent was this a matter of public knowledge that
the Customs Station of San Francisco was popularly dubbed the "Virginia
Poor House." During all these years California was under the absolute
control of the Democratic Party, and the party was under control of its
Pro-slavery leaders.
"The common people," says a late historian, "stood in awe for many years
of these suave, urbane, occasionally fire-eating and always well-dressed
gentlemen from this most aristocratic section of the Union. The
Southerners, born leaders of men, and with politics the paramount
interest in their lives, controlled both San Francisco and California."
J. W. Forney, a politician and reporter of the time, is more emphatic
and declares that "California was a secession rendezvous from the day it
became a part of the Union."
That the State was strongly Southern in sympathy is proven by the fact
that of fifty-three newspapers published within her borders only seven
advocated the election of Lincoln to the Presidency in 1860. A stronger
proof still is found in the character and conduct of the public men of
California during all the period under consideration. With one or two
exceptions, of whom honorable mention later, every official of any
importance, state or national, favored the South and voted in her
interest. This condition was partly due, without doubt, to the political
leadership of Senator Wm. M. Gwin. A Tennessean by birth, he was
forty-six years of age, when he landed in San Francisco, June 4, 1849.
Almost immediately active in politics he became the most brilliant and
unscrupulous leader California has ever had. He held the reins of power
and of national patronage until the war brought chaos to the old order
and always Wm. M. Gwin was a faithful servant of the old aristocratic
South of John C. Calhoun. He was ably seconded in his efforts to hold
California to the pro-slavery cause by David S. Terry, Chief Justice
of the State, and a fiery Texan, fearless and fierce in every
conflict which might affect adversely Southern Chivalry. After these
distinguished leaders there followed in monotonous succession Senators,
Representatives, Governors, Legislators, representing doubtless their
constituents in opposition to every movement looking to the abolition,
or even serious limitation of the slave power.
The first man to challenge the almost solid cohorts of pro-slavery
Democracy in California was David C. Broderick, United States Senator
from 1857 until his untimely death in 1859. Broderick was the son of
a stone cutter and in early life followed his father's trade. Born
in Washington, D. C., he grew to manhood in New York City. When only
twenty-six years old he became "Tammany's candidate for Congress."
He was defeated and in June, 1849, he too arrived in San Francisco,
determined never to return East unless as United States Senator.
Plunging into the political life of the state as a loyal Democrat he was
sent almost at once to the legislature in Sacramento, where he speedily
became an influential member. In 1851 he was made presiding officer of
the Senate and by 1852 his leadership within the State was so firmly
established that it was said of him "he is the Democratic Party of
California." January 10, 1857, after years of bitter struggle, Broderick
was elected United States Senator, and the following March was duly
received as a member of that august body. From the first his had been
a strenuous career, he had been the storm center of heated contests,
personal and political, in which he had commanded the suffrages of his
fellows so completely that it was said, "men of all ages followed him
like dogs." He had made many bitter and unrelenting enemies, and now
that he had reached the goal of his ambition, he was to enter upon a
last dread battle, the most severe and deadly of all he had known.
Stripped of all misleading complications the question then agitating
Congress and the country was simply this: Shall Negro Slavery be forced
upon the new territory of Kansas against the will of a majority of her
people? This, of course, was only preliminary to the larger question:
Shall the National Government, under lead of the Slave Oligarchy, be
given power to spread over new territory, at will, the blight and
curse of human bondage? Upon this foremost question of the day, Senator
Broderick stood side by side with Stephen A. Douglas in opposition to
the Buchanan Administration, and its mad attempt to force slavery upon
the people of the New West. The attitude of California politicians on
this matter is evidenced by the fact that the legislature in session at
Sacramento promptly instructed Broderick to vote for the administration
program, and a later legislature condemned him by resolution for failing
to comply with the instructions of its predecessor and declared that his
attitude was a disgrace and humiliation to the Nation. They demanded
his immediate resignation. Let it be noted clearly that Broderick was
condemned, not for opposing negro slavery, but simply and solely
for opposing the extreme southern contention. Not long, however, was
Broderick permitted to display his antislavery sympathies. During the
exciting campaign of 1859, David S. Terry, believing himself aggrieved
because of certain utterances of Broderick, challenged the latter to
deadly combat. Reluctantly, but thereto compelled by long usage in
California, Broderick met Terry upon the so-called "field of honor,"
September 13, 1859. Three days later Broderick was dead, a sacrifice, so
all forward-looking men believed, to the wrath of the slave power. "His
death was a political necessity, poorly veiled beneath the guise of
a private quarrel." This was said at his funeral, and widely accepted
among the people. It has been claimed that the death of Broderick saved
California to the Union; that the revulsion of feeling following his
bloody death was so great that his beloved State became good soil for
the new teaching of Lincoln and the Republican Party. Generously one
would like to accept this theory were not the evidence so strongly
against it. To Broderick belongs the high honor of inaugurating the
fight on the Pacific Coast against the extension of slavery. In the
outset of that conflict he perished, and the manner of his taking off
gave to his message something of the force of martyrdom. But not to
the extent his admirers have imagined. It should be clearly noted
that Broderick believed in local self-government regarding slavery. He
believed that the people of Kansas, and the people of Virginia (as of
all other states) possessed the right under our national constitution,
of deciding this question for themselves without let or hindrance by the
general government. Farther than this he did not go. To the day of his
death, he was a loyal Douglas Democrat. It should be further noted that
in this last campaign of Broderick's life the pro-slavery Democracy
swept the State, its candidate for Governor being elected by a vote
nearly twice the combined vote of the Douglas and Republican candidates:
And, also, that a year after Broderick's death Abraham Lincoln polled
only twenty-eight per cent of the popular vote in California for
President of the United States. Whatever may have been the influence of
the Senator's brave conflict in Congress, or his untimely death, it is
evident that the crisis in California's attitude toward the Union had
not yet arrived, that the hour in which any man might change the course
of events still lay within the unknown future.
The same may be said of the life and work of a still more brilliant
opponent of slavery on this Coast, Col. Edward D. Baker, a man of
phenomenal eloquence, with a well earned reputation as a successful
lawyer and politician, with an honorable record for gallant service in
the Mexican War, and for useful service in the House of Representatives
in Washington. When he located in San Francisco in 1852, an immigrant
from the great State of Illinois, he brought new strength to the
minority who were in conscience opposed to the growing dominion of the
Slave Power. For certain reasons, well understood at the time and which
do not concern us here, Col. Baker did not wield the influence which
his talents would naturally have secured for him. Yet as the contest
deepened, his majestic eloquence was beyond question a force for freedom
in a community where the love of oratory amounted to a passion. In the
Fremont Campaign, at the grave of Broderick, and in his own canvass
for Congress in 1859, he rendered most valuable service in laying the
foundations of Republicanism on the Pacific Coast. But it should be
remembered by all who would deal with those great days fairly that
the work of Edward Dickinson Baker at its best was only the work of a
brilliant forerunner. Before the real battle was on he removed from the
State, and as the newly elected United States Senator from Oregon, from
this Coast. It is true that on his journey to Washington a few days
before the National election in November, 1860, Baker delivered in San
Francisco an effective speech on Lincoln's behalf, but it is foolish
hero-worship to say, of California! Not only had Baker been defeated
overwhelmingly a few months earlier as Republican candidate for
Congress, but Lincoln himself received the electoral vote of California
only as the result of a three-sided contest in which the combined
opposition polled nearly three-fourths of all the votes cast. In fact
Lincoln distanced his nearest Democratic rival by only 711 Votes. Out
of one hundred and fourteen members of the state legislature but
twenty-four belonged to the party of Lincoln. The Congressional
Delegation was solidly Democratic, and the Governor was a Southern
sympathizer. Such was the condition after Baker's work was done in
California, and when the greater work of Starr King was just beginning.
In justice to Colonel Baker, though it is no part of our duty here, we
make grateful mention of the fact that not on the Pacific Coast but in
Washington, as the friend and adviser of President Lincoln, and on the
floor of the United States Senate, this gallant defender of Union and
Liberty rendered a unique and memorable service to his country. His
replies in the Senate to those giants of the Confederacy, John C.
Breckenridge and Judah P. Benjamin attained the dignity of national
events, and his heroic death early in the war on field of battle
renders it forever impossible for any just man to belittle the deeds
or influence of Edward D. Baker. What he might have effected had he
remained in California, or had his life been longer spared, we may not
say. The fact remains that after his mission among us was over Southern
and Democratic sentiment was still in the ascendant. It was reserved
for another,--the privilege and the honor of "saving California to the
Union."
One other phase of the situation merits careful attention. Almost from
the very beginning of American Settlement in California a dream of
Pacific Empire, separate and independent of "the States" had fascinated
many of her strongest men. And little wonder, for here by the Pacific
Sea was a vast territory walled away by lofty mountains and wide
deserts, two thousand miles west of the frontier settlements of
Minnesota and Kansas. Not until after the outbreak of the Civil War was
there telegraphic communication with the East, and the nearest railway
ended somewhere in central Missouri. Mail was received regularly once in
twenty-six days, sometimes as often as once in two weeks. But there was
little direct communication and less unity of purpose between the older
sections of the United States and far away California. In fact there
was considerable antagonism felt and expressed toward the government of
Washington. The original Mexican population cordially hated, and with
good reason, the national authority. Foreigners in the mines cared
nothing for the Union or the quarrel between the states, and many of the
settlers from the East, which they still lovingly called "back home,"
felt that they had a real grievance against the general government. This
feeling, which was of long standing, was naturally intensified by the
troubled outlook in 1860. Men prominent in state and national politics
openly advocated independence as the proper policy for the Pacific
Coast.
"Why depend on the South or the North to regulate our affairs," wrote
our junior Senator from Washington. "And this, too, after they have
proved themselves incapable of living in harmony with one another."
Starr King had been a resident of the state nearly a year when the
San Francisco Herald published the following letter received from
Congressman John C. Burch:
"The people of California should all be of one mind on this subject of a
Pacific Republic. Raise aloft the flag of the hydraheaded cactus of
the western wilds and call upon the enlightened nations of the earth
to acknowledge our independence and protect us from the wreck of a once
glorious Union."
Governor John B. Weller, a man not only holding the highest office
within the gift of the people of the state, but also one who had
represented California in the United States Senate made deliberately
this declaration:
"If the wild spirit of fanaticism which now pervades the land should
destroy the magnificent confederacy--which God forbid--California will
not go with the south or north, but here on the shores of the Pacific,
found a mighty republic, which may in the end prove the greatest of
all."
These quotations which might be greatly extended are sufficient to prove
that a strong feeling existed in favor of a Pacific Republic standing
wholly aloof from the coming struggle. It is unthinkable that a Senator
and a Congressman, and especially the Governor of the State, should have
voiced such sentiments had there not been at least a probability that
this might be the course adopted in case the Union was broken up.
James G. Blaine, whose history of the time must be regarded as impartial
so far as California is concerned, makes this statement:
"Jefferson Davis expected, with confidence amounting to certainty, and
based, it is believed, on personal pledges, that the Pacific Coast, if
it did not actually join the South, would be disloyal to the Union."
This beyond reasonable doubt was the situation in the Spring of 1860:
Our immense State with its coast line of more than seven hundred
miles, sharply divided as between Southern and Northern California; the
majority of our people in Los Angeles and neighboring counties frankly
favoring the proposed confederacy of slave-holding states; many of the
larger towns in the San Joaquin and Sacramento valleys of a similar
mind; the political leaders of the State almost solidly Democratic and
the majority with strong Southern leanings; many of our foremost men
believing that the time had come to launch the long dreamed of Pacific
Republic, and our ranches and mines containing a large population either
hostile or indifferent to the cause of Union and Liberty. Over against
these varied forces a probable patriotic majority scattered from one end
of California to the other, some belonging to the new Republican Party
and some to the Douglas Democracy, and many without party affiliation,
unorganized, badly scattered, and now that Broderick was dead and
Colonel Baker away, without competent leadership. If ever a situation
called for a man who might at once command the confidence of the people
and arouse the latent patriotism of our wide-spread population, a man
who might do the work of years in a few months' time, who might in his
own persuasive personality become a center of patriotism around which
Union-loving men of all parties, and of no party, could unite in defense
of the imperilled country; one unfettered by old antagonisms, or misled
by personal ambition, a heaven-sent man destined to a work no other
could accomplish--this the situation plainly demanded.
The record, impartially examined, shows, we believe beyond reasonable
doubt, that California's destiny in this critical hour was chiefly
determined by the word and work of her patriot-preacher, Starr King.