A VICTORIAN'S VISIT TO SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA.
We left Victoria March 2nd via Seattle for San Francisco and Los
Angeles by the good steamer _Governor_. We arrived at San
Francisco Sunday, March 6th, after a rather rough trip, on which I
did not miss a meal. After breakfast Mrs. F. and I, with three
fellow-passengers, went to Sutro Heights and then to Golden Gate
Park. The seals were still sleeping on the rocks or bobbing about in
the water as of old. Sutro's gardens were a disappointment, as they
seemed to have been allowed to go to decay. Of all the beautiful
statuary representing the gods and goddesses of ancient Greece and
Rome, all were in a state of dilapidation--arms, legs and heads
broken off and covered with moss and dirt. Many of the glass houses
in the gardens were in a like state. We did not stay long there, but
took cars for Golden Gate Park, which is kept up by the Government
and everything is kept in a perfect state of repair. Beautiful
avenues of tropical trees, flowers in profusion, statues of public
men of the past, and then the museum. This had the most attractions
for me, as there were many interesting things to inspect, of which
more anon. On the down trip we took on board at San Francisco a party
of seven gentlemen who were going to Los Angeles for a holiday,
consisting of a judge, a lawyer, a doctor, a manager of an
electric light company, two merchants, and last but not least, a
blacksmith, all members of a singing society. These gentlemen gave
us several most enjoyable little concerts. We arrived at Redondo on
March 8th and took cars for Los Angeles soon after arrival, and were
in Los Angeles about two o'clock. I must confess I was not impressed
with San Francisco, for while there were some very handsome, ornate
and very high buildings, especially in the burned area and on Market
Street, there were alongside the new buildings the cellars of former
fine buildings filled with debris of the buildings destroyed by
quake or fire, also whole blocks boarded up and covered with
advertisements, behind which were piles of broken masonry and twisted
steel. I went along Montgomery to Kearney Street, up Clay to Powell
and found very little change from what I left in 1859. The Plaza did
not seem the least altered.
In 1855 my brother one day remarked that the street above Powell had
had no name long enough, and, as we lived in it, he took the liberty
of naming it. There was a box with "Taylor's" soap or candles printed
on the cover lying on the ground, and taking a saw he cut the Taylor
in two, nailing "Tay" up on the corner house. Strange to say, it is
"Tay" Street to-day, after fifty-five years, but instead of being on
the house it is painted on a lamp-post. Clay Street had the honor of
having the first cable street cars, but I did not see any on my late
visit.
[Portrait: Park in San Bernardino.]
It seemed to me as if it would be a long time ere San Francisco would
be like it was before the earthquake. A party of us went out to
Golden Gate Park, but days might have been profitably spent in
the gardens and museum, and on account of lack of time we could
only partly inspect the many interesting things to be seen at
the latter place, so I reserved a further inspection till my
return home, which account will be given later on.
If I was disappointed with San Francisco I was more than pleased with
Los Angeles, for several reasons--the most important being that it is
the starting-point for so many trips into the most beautiful places,
of which a deal might be said, more than I have time to say just now.
Los Angeles is said to contain 320,000, and likely it does, for the
traffic is more congested in the principal streets than in San
Francisco. I was told it would be so hot in Los Angeles that I took a
light suit and straw hat to wear there, but I found it just such
weather as we get in June, and I did not change my winter clothes or
wear the straw hat at all, and when going out after dinner I wore my
overcoat, being warned that I ran the risk of taking cold if I did
not. The theatres of Los Angeles are many and good. The restaurants
and cafeterias are both good and reasonable in price. It took us some
time to get used to the cafeterias' way of doing business. Imagine a
line fifty feet long--men, women and children--waiting their turn to
get their knife and fork, dessert and teaspoons, napkin and tray;
then just such food and drinks as you may fancy, from bread 1c., to
meats, 10c. to 25c. When your tray is loaded, you pass on to the
woman who checks up what you have and gives you the price on a
celluloid check, which, on going out, you hand to the cashier and
pay. It is said that you can get used to anything in time, and we
soon got used to this and found it popular with all, for these
cafeterias are always full, the food being excellent.
We patronized a vegetarian cafe often, where every thing was made
from vegetables, no tea or coffee allowed, these drinks being
considered unwholesome.
The abomination of Los Angeles is its automobiles and motor cycles,
which I blessed many times a day. They say there are hundreds--I
should say thousands--of them and they are always in evidence, day
and night, and what with the number of cars, it was impossible to
cross the streets at times, and it was surprising the narrow escapes
I had. My attention was drawn to the height of the sidewalks, they
often being twelve and fifteen inches above the road. It was soon
explained, for a few days later, on going to the theatre, it rained,
and three hours later, going home, the streets were running rivers of
water, and we had to walk up and down to find a narrow place to get
over to the sidewalk. The streets having high crowns, the water, of
course, runs to the gutters, and often boards have to be laid from
the sidewalk across the gutters to get over these torrents. The next
morning, the rain storm being over, the streets were clear of water.
It is the custom here to wash the streets down at night, so that they
are always clean. They are made of asphalt, and in Pasadena of a
composition of asphalt and fine stone or gravel, and are also treated
with crude oil. As part of our time was spent in Pasadena, I have
something to say of that most beautiful of all southern cities. It is
about a half hour's run from Los Angeles, and you pass scores of
pretty bungalows on the way, as well as stretches of country covered
with very low green hills with cattle feeding. Pasadena is termed the
"home of millionaires." Well, if handsome houses, grounds, trees and
flowers make a millionaire's home, it is rightly named. Fine roads
run in every direction past these lovely plains, and you are
overpowered at times with the smell of orange blossoms as you pass
through miles of orange orchards or groves.
Among the beautiful homes is that of Judge Spinks, surrounded by
beautiful trees of all kinds, as well as an orange garden, where
after a long auto ride we received the hospitality of Mrs. Spinks and
Mrs. and Miss Clapham, and carried off a supply of oranges enough for
a week. The many friends of Judge and Mrs. Spinks will be glad to
know that his health has greatly improved since residing there.
Passing the orange trees one day in the cars I noticed in the
distance that the ground instead of being black or green was golden
for quite a distance ahead and on drawing near found it to be caused
by oranges, which completely covered up the surface of the soil, and
was in fact the product of that grove picked and lying on the ground.
What might be considered the finest place in Pasadena is the Busch
estate; the grounds are a wonder in artistic taste and extent, and
are to be added to, a large piece of ground having been recently
bought by Mr. Busch for that purpose. The grounds are open to the
public at all times, and his residence also at stated times. He is
the head of the Anheuser-Busch beer concern. I might state what is a
well-known fact, that they don't believe in fences down there. I have
not seen one yet. All these lovely places are open to the road. You
walk off the sidewalk to the house everywhere. Flowers grow even in
the street, alongside the walk, and are cultivated by those whose
property faces them. Speaking of trees, I must mention that they have
the greatest variety of shade trees to be seen anywhere. The tall
eucalyptus, imported from Australia, is seen by thousands, and the
beautiful pepper tree of Chili or Peru. This tree was my favorite,
looking something between a weeping willow and an acacia, but growing
much taller, with its red berries in bunches showing clearly on
the green. Then the palms with their spreading branches or stems!
Of these latter, we saw a pair that the gentleman informed me he had
brought home in a coal oil tin sixteen years ago, and to-day the
trunks were twenty inches thick and the trees spread over a surface
of twenty-five feet, leaving a passage between to walk up to the
front of the house. There are avenues of these beautiful trees in the
various parks in Los Angeles, Pasadena and Riverside. Further, in the
matter of trees I would draw a comparison between the authorities of
these southern towns and our own municipal authorities. When making
new roads or drives, they find a fine tree growing on the road;
instead of cutting it down as our vandals do, they leave it there and
protect it, and I saw a notable example of this, when three men were
treating or doctoring a veteran growing on the road which showed
signs of dying, and they were doing all that could be done to save
its life and keep it there. As we wandered about admiring all this
beauty in nature we came to an extra pretty place, and the impulse
took hold of me to have a nearer view; to if possible get permission
to pick an orange and some blossoms to send home; so I stopped in my
walk and made for where I saw two ladies sitting in the sunshine in
front of the cottage. My wife restrained me and I hesitated, but on
casting my eyes towards the ladies I perceived one of them smile, so
I proceeded on, and raising my hat, apologized for our interview,
saying that we were from the north and were captivated by the beauty
of the place. "Oh, not at all, you are perfectly welcome. Would you
like to look around?" We gladly accepted, and were shown around the
premises, and at my request to pick an orange myself to send home, I
was given permission, and told I might pick a lemon also, and
would I like a bunch of orange blossoms?
We finally had two card boxes given us, and packed the fruit in one
and the orange blossoms in the other. We were then invited in to rest
and found the ladies were representative of those we met
afterwards--the most kindly and courteous--and here I must say that I
never met more obliging people than these same good people of
California. I never met with a rebuff from anyone, and I am sure I
bothered them enough during our stay with enquiries of every kind and
another.
The police are instructed to supply everyone with necessary
information and are provided with books containing such information
as people may require. There are many excursions out of Los Angeles
in various directions, of which we availed ourselves. One of these
took us to Causton's ostrich farm, San Gabriel Mission, and Long
Beach. The ostrich farm is well worth a visit, to see these monster
birds running about with wings outstretched. We were informed that at
the age of six months they were full grown, and considering their
size and weight it is a wonder. They eat as much as a cow, and, to
show how high they can reach, the keeper stood on something and
raised his hand up to eight feet and the ostrich easily took an
orange from his hand and swallowed it whole. We were warned not to
come too close to them, for the ostrich is attracted by bright
hatpins in the ladies' hats or by jewelry, or by anything bright--all
are swallowed whole. One was sitting on a batch of eggs, which had
just been vacated by the male, who does the most of the sitting. The
visit to the San Gabriel Mission was of great interest to me, for it
was of ancient origin, having been one of those founded by Padre
Junipero Serra in 1771. The church we visited, and were conducted
through by a lay priest who, in a monotonous tone of voice, recited
all he knew of the mission. As before stated, the mission was about
one hundred and forty years old, and one cannot but admire the zeal
and devotion of the men who endured the hardships of the life they
must have led so long ago. The church windows were very high from the
ground, as the natives were not to be trusted, and the fathers might
be surprised at any moment during the service and shot at. They had
often to take refuge there from further attacks in early times. We
were told that the building, which was built, as all were at that
time, of sun-dried bricks and mud, was renewed since only in roof
and seats. The original doors were preserved and shown us in a room.
They were made very substantially, with iron bolts and bands and big
locks, but now crumbling with age. The pictures of saints on the
walls were painted in oil, and very poor specimens of art, I should
say. They were old, and were sent from Spain. Although twenty-five
cents was asked for admission we were asked to contribute to a fund
for the restoration of the building, and many small coins were given
by our party, and, when it is remembered that these excursions are
daily, the year around, it must be an expensive job keeping the old
building in repair. It looked as if twenty dollars would have covered
the cost of any repairs made in a year, and it looked to me a case of
graft on someone's part. There is another church, founded at the same
time, in Los Angeles, and I produce all I could decipher of an
ancient inscription I copied from the front: "Los ---- de Esta
Parroquia A La Reina de Los Angelus" (built 1814). These missions are
planted at stated distances from San Diego to San Francisco, and all
by that pioneer of Roman Catholicism, Junipera Serra. There is a
statue to him in Golden Gate Park in San Francisco in the attitude of
exhortation, leaning forward with arms extended upward. I visited
three of the missions, and they are all about the same. There is
great food for contemplation in visiting these relics of the past.
To think of the conditions as existing then and now.
We were photographed in front of the mission, after which we left for
Long Beach and spent the balance of the afternoon. The beach was
covered with bathers--men, women and children--and although the surf
rolled high on the sands the bathers ran in and met the rollers,
which completely buried them. They then emerged laughing, and waited
for the next wave. There was quite a small town on the sands where
there were shows of all kinds and booths for getting money by many
ways in profusion.
At the handsome and commodious Hotel Virginia we visited Mr. Roper of
"Cherry Creek" who has been down here all the winter, and we found
him getting better, but slowly.
Although there are many Victorians go south to spend the winter each
year, the great majority are for many reasons unable to do so, and I
thought it might be of some interest to these latter to give them
"items by the way" in going and coming on this most enjoyable sojourn
to the land of fruit, flowers and beautiful homes.
At all these winter resorts for people from the East and North are
flowers, trees and fruit, with handsome hotels, fruits, beautiful
shade trees, and last but not least, beautiful homes. There are
public parks in all of them where in January people may sit out of
doors among their flowers, with the mocking-birds singing on all
sides. Residences are nearly all in the bungalow style, with
projecting roofs. The more imposing residences may be of Spanish
architecture with red tiled roofs which look very handsome.
I wondered at the large and handsome hotels in Pasadena, although
Riverside, San Bernardino and San Diego all have good hotels. In
Pasadena there was the Maryland with its pergola, a Spanish appendage
covered with climbing flower vines which was very attractive; also
the Green and the Raymond. There is little to be seen of the original
inhabitants of this country, that is to say, of their descendants. It
put me in mind of our own Indians, of the remnant of the Songhees
tribe. They are all seemingly half or quarter breeds, and work as
laborers for the railway company. I have already given in my boyhood
experiences in San Francisco an account of a flag incident, and
strange to say, I nearly had another in Los Angeles. One day I saw
what might be an English flag flying from a high building, and the
sight stirred me. So to make sure I threaded my way through the crowd
for some distance and when opposite the building I walked off the
sidewalk and craned my neck to look up six stories to make sure if it
were really a Union Jack. Well, well! I thought, is it up so high to
protect it from molestation, or is it that they are more
liberal-minded here? I felt pleased, but when I espied what turned
out to be the British coat-of-arms below the flag I saw the reason
why. Just then along came a motor cycle and a motor car, and in the
opposite direction a street car, and I recovered myself and got out
of the way in quick time. It was the office of the British Consul,
and that is why it waved. I consoled myself with the thought that it
was after all only a certain class of American who would not tolerate
any other flag in this country but his own, and I shall try and
always think this.
We left Los Angeles and Redlands March 24th for San Francisco, where
we arrived March 25th. In San Francisco I met an old Victorian, Tom
Burnes, brother of William Burnes, H. M. customs. I had not seen him
for years, and we started to explore the Plaza on Kearney and
Washington Streets. This was the most familiar part of San Francisco
to me, as I have passed through this part often as a boy. It is now
known as Portman Square. I looked for the "Monumental" engine house
from which I had run to fires in the early fifties. A blank space was
pointed out where it had been, but the fire had destroyed this
ancient landmark. In the Plaza Mr. Burnes showed me a monument to
Robert Louis Stevenson, the English writer of such interesting sea
stories. On the top was a ship of the time of Elizabeth, with the
high poop deck, which must have represented something in one of his
stories, and an inscription:
"To Remember Robert L. Stevenson.
"To be honest, to be kind, to earn a little, to spend a little less.
To make upon the whole a family happier for his presence. To renounce
when that be necessary. Not to be embittered. To keep a few friends,
but those without capitulation. Above all, on the same grim
condition, to keep friends with himself. Here is a task for all that
man has of fortitude and delicacy."
This was erected by some admirers of the very interesting English
writer who died, was it not in Samoa, so beloved by the natives.
Piloted by Mr. Burnes, we next viewed St. Mary's Cathedral. It had
been fifty odd years since I had last been inside, and as a boy I had
often been attracted by the music. The cathedral was completely
gutted by the fire, which entered at the front doors and passed up
the tower and to the roof, in fact making a complete ruin of the
building. So that the original landmark should be preserved intact,
they built a complete church inside of concrete and bolted the two
walls together so that the building is as good as ever. New stained
glass windows, altars and a new $25,000 organ have been donated by
wealthy members of the congregation, so that we looked upon a new
church inside and the original outside.
We spent the afternoon at Golden Gate Park, which was the great sight
of San Francisco, four miles long, laid out as an immense garden or
succession of gardens, with conservatories and aviaries, tropical
trees, winding roads and paths in all directions. The first thing to
attract my attention before entering the museum was a statue of Padre
Junipero Serra, the intrepid founder of so many missions along the
coast of California. There were also monuments to Abraham Lincoln,
General Grant, and that stirring preacher of the south, Starr King.
Time was valuable, so I had to give up a further inspection of the
park to give all remaining time to the museum, which closed at four
o'clock. All the time we were in the museum I noticed two policemen
patrolling about and I thought it unusual, and on inquiry found that
lately a most valuable picture had been taken by being cut out of the
frame. After some trouble the thief had been captured and the picture
recovered. The thief gave as a reason for stealing it that he thought
it might inspire him to paint just such a picture, he being ambitious
to be a painter. I hardly think this excuse will weigh with the
authorities. In the room of pioneer relics I found many interesting
things. First a large bell which recorded on the outside the founding
of the volunteer fire department, organized 1850, George Hosseproso,
chief engineer. Firemen of those days were men of account, in fact,
many men of prominence were officers or members of the fire
department. Second, four mission bells from an old mission church at
Carmelo, Monterey County, built by Padre Junipero Serra, 1770; San
Francisco's first printing press, used in publishing the first
newspaper in California, in 1846, at Monterey; a picture of Jno.
Truebody, a pioneer business man of San Francisco, whom I remember
well; two glass cases of relics presented by John Bardwell, of the
_vigilante_ days, containing firearms, batons, certificates of
membership in the _vigilante_ committee, pieces of rope, being
cut off the original ropes with which they hanged Cora, Casey,
Hetherington and Brace, for the assassination of James King of
William, and General Richardson. James King of William was the editor
of the _Chronicle_, and in an election campaign James King, who
was opposed to Casey in politics, mentioned the fact that Casey had
been a jail-bird in his youth. This was taken up by Casey's friends
and three of them agreed that the first one of the three who should
meet James King should shoot him. Casey being the first to meet
him performed the deed. For this he was hanged by the vigilance
committee, who demanded him from the authorities. This committee was
formed immediately after the assassination.
Cora was hanged for the murder of General Richardson because of a
slight cast on Cora's wife by the former. Pistols seemed to have
been carried by all as a necessity. Cora and Casey were taken out of
the jail by the vigilance committee and hanged May 18th, 1856. There
were also pieces of the rope used in hanging Hetherington and Brace
for the murder of Baldwin, Randall, West and Marion, July 29th, 1856.
There were pictures also of Judge Terry, A. B. Paul, Wm. T. Coleman,
Charles Doane, James King of William, and a picture of the scene
of his assassination. I recognized this locality immediately I saw
it. It was the offices of the Pacific Express Co., on the corner
of Washington and Montgomery. There were also pictures of Fort
Gunnybags, the headquarters of the vigilance committee, showing the
alarm bell and the sentries on the roof; also Lola Montez, Countess
of Bavaria, a most notable woman of those exciting times, and of
William C. Ralston. There was a picture of the pavilion of the first
Mechanics' Exhibition, held in San Francisco in 1857. I remember this
exhibition well, as on a certain day all the school children were
given free admission, and it was as a school boy I went.
There was an extensive collection of relics of the past in the
Egyptian rooms, many being _facsimiles_ of the originals in the
British Museum. Where this was the case it was so stated, but there
were many genuine things, amongst which I noted a wooden statue
dating back about 1,000 years before Christ, being the wife, and also
sister of Osiris, and mother of Horus, chief deity of Egypt. Strictly
on the stroke of four o'clock a policeman went through the building
and called out that the buildings must be closed. I made a request to
one of these policemen to see the curator, and he took me to his
office; he was, unfortunately, not in, but I saw his assistant and
offered her some relics of early San Francisco, which were
accepted. I was watching the people filing out, prior to closing,
when out came three bluejackets, whose caps showed they belonged to
H. M. S. _Shearwater_. I introduced myself, and remarked, "What are
you boys doing here? I should hardly have expected to have seen
sailors so far from their ship." "Oh, sir, we are at anchor in the
harbor yonder, and will be leaving Monday for Esquimalt." I saw her
that evening at anchor, with the Union Jack flapping in the breeze,
and suppose the Jacks were aboard all right.
We were advised that the mint was open to visitors between the hours
of 9.30 and 11.30, and as I had not been there for about twenty years
we joined a party one morning. On presenting ourselves we were
ushered into a waiting-room with others. Later on a man in uniform
came for us. We were counted and told to follow. We were first taken
down to a room in the cellar where we were instructed as to what we
should see, and given a lot of information about the mint. This was
done where it was quiet, as where the work was done it is very noisy.
The first process was melting the silver in crucibles, which were
emptied of their contents when in a liquid state into molds, which
were in turn emptied out, were grasped by a man who passed them on
with thick leather-gloved hands to powerful rollers which rolled the
ingots out to long strips like hoop-iron, after being passed through
many times. These strips, which were then as thick as a dollar, were
passed under a stamp, which punched out the coins about 120 a minute.
They were continually being examined by various men who now and then
threw out imperfect ones. They were then passed on to another room
where there was a perfect din of machinery. They were now passed
under an immense stamp and the image was punched on under a
pressure of one hundred and twenty-eight tons. They were then coins,
and after several other examinations were cooled and passed, one
being handed around for our inspection. In addition to the dollar we
saw the same routine gone through in making a copper cent piece.
I tried to get one, but he said every one was counted and must be
produced. There were several who wanted souvenirs and wished to pay
for them. We were counted again, signed our names and left.