Before I leave California, I must give you a sketch of John
Chinaman,--not the Johns in general, but a particular John, who lived in
the Tremont Hotel as a chamber servant for more than a year. He could
talk good broken English, was quick in his motions, and very neat. I
liked John better than any other of the chamber servants, he was so
faithful. Often I would be so amused at his remarks, that I would have
to stop, and laugh heartily. Then he would look _so_ perplexed, and say,
“What you laughee so for, Missa Bessa?” He invariably called the name
Bates, Bessa.
He had been in California four years, during all of which time he had
been out to service, never receiving less than one hundred dollars per
month. He had about three thousand dollars out at interest, for which he
received three per cent. a month. He was very penurious, never indulging
in any luxury, save most excellent tea, which he kept for his own
private use.
Sometimes, when I would be sick, he would come to my door, bringing a
cup of his tea, and say, “You drinkee this, Missa Bessa; make you well
quick.” He placed implicit faith in the healing properties of his tea.
His money, his tea, and his cue were his especial delight. Days when he
would have a great deal to do, engaging his time until late in the
evening, he would never retire, however tired he might be, without
first combing, oiling, and braiding his cue. This he kept coiled around
on the top of his head; and, instead of keeping the remaining portion of
his pate shaved, as they generally do, he allowed it to grow, and kept
it cut, after the fashion of the Americans. When he had his hat upon his
head, one would never suppose he had a cue. He was the best-looking
Chinaman I ever saw, and came from Ningpo.
Upon first arriving in California, he went as house servant to Senator
Gwin. Afterwards, he lived with a Mr. Peck. He would say sometimes,
“Only three very good ladees in Californee.”--“Who are those,
John?”--“Missa Gwina, Missa Pecka, and Missa Bessa. Missa Gwina, she one
very good ladee; she talkee, laughee, all day long, eat watermelon,
drink champagne; she one very good ladee.” John seemed to estimate the
qualifications of Mrs. Gwin by the quantity of good and expensive things
which she ate and drank. Watermelons were twelve dollars apiece, and
champagne ten dollars per bottle. Then he would say, “Missa Pecka one
very good ladee, but she too fatter. Missa Bessa, she no too fatter; she
too smallee, too sickee (sometimes I would have ill turns); she go home
to her mudder; me go too. She too smallee; I be her servant.” He seemed
very much attached to me, and was always ready and willing to wait upon
me.
One day, he was very unceremoniously rushed into matrimony. The
particulars of this hurried marriage were as follows: John was one day
passing along one of the streets occupied mostly by Chinese, when his
ears were assailed with horrid screams which issued from a building near
by. He burst in the door, which was fastened, and there found a Canton
Chinaman unmercifully beating one of his slaves, a young girl of about
sixteen years. John, who was very tender-hearted, could not bear to see
that; so he knocked down the Chinaman, took the girl, whom he never saw
until then, and ran with her to the hotel, and wanted me to secrete her
in my room. It appears there is an almost deadly feud existing between
the Canton and Ningpo Chinamen. As soon as the Canton Chinaman recovered
himself sufficiently to realize what had happened, he collected about
thirty of his partisans, and started to arrest John for assaulting him,
and carrying off his slave.
This was apprehended by the people at the hotel, who all felt very much
interested for John. They told him, in order to prevent the girl from
being taken back by her cruel master, he must marry her. Then he could
retain her as his wife; but could not be sustained in secreting away
another’s slave. To this arrangement John readily acquiesced, and was
hurried off to an esquire; an interpreter obtained,--for the bride elect
could not articulate one word of English,--and the ceremony commenced.
When John was asked if he would take that woman to be his wedded wife,
his reply was, “Yes, me takee her: me lovee her; she lovee me. Canton
Chinaman no get her, no whipee her. Me be good to her; take good care of
her. She be my little wife!” And he ran on with such a tirade, they
thought they should never check him.
They were married before her master found her; and therefore he never
recovered his slave. John had a small house in the back yard of the
hotel, and in it he placed his wife. She was not domestic at all, and
there she sat with her hands folded, when not engaged in embroidering.
And there I left them when I started for the States.
Most of the washing and ironing in California is performed by Chinamen.
They take the clothes to the rivers, and beat them on stones and boards,
which they place in particular positions. Their clothes-lines are
stretched all along the banks of the river. After the articles are dry,
they take them to their houses to iron. They starch every article, even
to sheets and pillow-slips. Their mode of ironing is entirely different
from anything I ever before saw. They have a copper vessel, shaped like
a sauce-pan, and large enough to hold about two quarts of coal. The
bottom of this vessel is very thick, and highly polished. They fill it
with burning coal; then take hold of the handle, and shove it back and
forth over the articles.
They have a dish of water standing beside them, to which they put their
mouths, and draw up such a quantity of the water, that their cheeks are
inflated to their utmost capacity. All the while they are shoving this
vessel back and forth, they are blowing the water out of their mouths,
which falls like spray upon the garment, and renders it of an equal
dampness. They iron very smoothly, and the clothes have a beautiful
polish. For ironing dresses, they have differently shaped sauce-pans.
They wear out the clothes very much beating them so; and it is almost
dangerous to stand in the vicinity of their washing resorts, the
shirt-buttons fly so like hail-stones.
There is a place, a little out from San Francisco, called Washerwoman’s
Bay, where the Chinamen take all the clothes from the city to wash. I
once took a walk out there; and, before I came in sight of the bay, I
heard the noise occasioned by the clothes being thrashed so
unmercifully. While I stood listening, not well assured of the cause of
that peculiar noise, a gentleman appeared, coming in the direction from
whence the sounds proceeded. I asked him what that noise was. Said he,
“You are in close proximity to Washerwoman’s Bay; and I would advise you
to go no farther, if you value your life; for the shirt-buttons are
flying so thick, and with such velocity, it is really dangerous to go
too near.”
A short time before I left Marysville, the city was visited by another
conflagration, which came very near destroying the Tremont Hotel. It
occurred between ten and eleven o’clock, one Sunday. The fire originated
in the square directly opposite the hotel; and, what wind there was
being fair to bring it directly to the house, the greatest consternation
prevailed. The ladies were all dressed to attend church. They commenced
packing their things, and throwing them out the doors and windows. The
proprietor ordered every woollen blanket in the house to be produced,
wet thoroughly, and then nailed them all over that part of the house
most exposed to the flames. One part of the building had a flat roof,
upon which barrels of water were kept standing, also a number of pails.
This roof was covered with people, passing and throwing water to prevent
ignition.
While this was going on outside, the people were rushing in, and
removing beds and furniture. In their haste to remove large pieces, they
tore down partitions, and otherwise injured the house; breaking out
windows, sash and all, to eject some piece of furniture. Individuals who
had been boarding in the house, and had not deposited their money in the
safe, ran to their trunks, took it out, and gave it to me for safe
keeping. I had my pockets so filled with gold and gold dust, it was
really burthensome to move about. The most valuable things were removed
out on the plains, and I stood guard over them; for they required strict
watching, there were so many standing round, ready to take anything they
could lay their hands upon. Several times the roof of the hotel was on
fire; but, by the strenuous exertions of the people, it was
extinguished. The flames were darting over and around it, yet the
building was preserved, at the risk, almost, of their own lives. The
proprietor’s face was scorched quite badly, as he was ever in the van;
and where the most danger was, there he was sure to be seen. The
building was saved; but what a looking house to return to! Every part
ran with mud and water; the partitions were demolished, and windows
broken; all the blankets which belonged upon the beds, wet and dirty on
the outside of the house. But they soon dried; and that night, by ten
o’clock, there were beds ready to accommodate a hundred persons. How we
all worked! I never recollect being so tired, before or since, as I was
that night. When I left Marysville, the old hotel was standing in all
its pristine beauty. It had withstood all the fires which had visited
Marysville during the space of three years; but I had only been at home
three months, when tidings reached me that it was burned to the ground.