THEN AND NOW, OR EIGHTEEN HUNDRED FORTY-NINE AND NINETEEN HUNDRED AND
ONE
Triangular Section of San Francisco--Clay Banks, Mud and Rats
in 1849--Streets at That Time--Desperate Characters--Gambling
Houses--Thirst for Gold--Saloons and Sirens--The Bella Union--The
Leaven of the Church--Robbers' Dens and Justice in Mining Camps--The
Vigilance Committee and What It Did--San Francisco Well Governed
Now--Highway Robbers and the Courts--Chief of Police Wittman and His
Men--A Visit to Police Headquarters--The Cells--A Murderer--A Chinese
Woman in Tears--A Hardened Offender.
The traveller to the City of the Golden Gate, as he approaches it,
having crossed the great bay from Oakland, notices that the hundreds
of streets which greet his gaze run from east to west, and cross each
other at right angles, except a triangular section of this metropolis
of the west. This part of the city may be compared to a great wedge
with the broad end on the bay. It begins at the Market Street Ferry
house and runs south as far as South Street at the lower end of China
Basin. This triangle is bounded on the north by Market Street, which
follows a line west by southwest, and on the south by Channel and
Ridley Streets, the latter crossing Market Street at the sharp end of
the wedge-shaped section. The portion of the city within the triangle
embraces in its water-front the Mission, Howard, Folsom, Stewart,
Spear, Fremont, and Merrimac Piers, together with Mail and Hay Docks.
Here you may see steamships and sailing vessels from all parts of
the world moored at their piers, while others are riding at anchor a
little way out from the land. The whole scene is at once picturesque
and animated and suggests great activity. We must remember, however,
that where now are these massive piers with their richly laden ships
and noble argosies, as far back only as 1849 there were no stable
docks, no properly constructed wharfs, no convenient landing places.
Here only were clay banks, which gave no promise of the great future
with its commercial grandeur, and everything was insecure and
unsatisfactory, especially in rainy weather, which began in November
and continued with more or less interruption until April. The new
comer, not cautious to secure a sure footing would sometimes sink deep
in the soft mud or even disappear in the spongy earth. With the ships
too came not only the gold-seekers from many lands, but rats also as
if they had a right and title to the rising city. These swarmed along
the primitive wharfs, and at times they would invade the houses and
tents of the people and go up on their beds or find a lodging-place in
vessels and cup-boards. Some of these rodents which followed in the
wake of the new civilisation were from China and Japan, while others,
gray and black, came in ships from Europe and from American cities on
the Atlantic seaboard. Even wells had to be closed except at the time
of the drawing of water, in order to keep out these pests which made
the life of many a householder well nigh intolerable.
The streets were few in number then, not more than fifteen or twenty,
as the town, at the time of which we are speaking, had only a
population of about five thousand people. As San Francisco grew,
however, under the impetus which the discovery of gold gave to it, the
streets were naturally multiplied; and, to overcome the mire in wet
weather and also the sand of the dry season, which made it difficult
for pedestrians to walk hither and thither or for vehicles to move
to and fro, they were planked in due time. Wooden sewers were also
constructed on each side of the street to carry off the surface water.
A plank road besides ran out to Mission Dolores, the vicinity of which
was a great resort on Sundays, especially in the days when "bull
fighting" was a pastime and the old Spanish and Mexican elements of
the population had not been eliminated or had not lost their prestige.
As one went to and fro then and encountered men of all nationalities,
it was not an uncommon thing to meet many who had the look of
desperadoes, whose upper garment was a flannel shirt, while revolvers
looked threateningly out of their belts at the passerby. All this of
course, was changed after a time, when the days of reform came, as
they always come when the need arises. There is an element in human
society which acts as a corrective, and wrong is finally dethroned,
and right displays her power with a divine force and a vivid sweep as
a shaft of lightning from the sky. We need never despair about the
triumph of the good. It is a noble sentiment which Bryant utters in
"The Battle Field:"
"Truth crushed to earth shall rise again:
The eternal years of God are hers;
But Error, wounded, writhes in pain,
And dies among his worshippers."
And never was there a community or a city where Truth asserted her
sway more potently in the midst of evil than in San Francisco in the
trying days of her youth. With the rush from all lands to California
for the coveted gold came the lawless and the blood-thirsty. Men in
the gambling houses would sometimes quarrel over the results of the
game or over some "love affair." Fair Helen and unprincipled, gay,
thoughtless Paris were here by the Golden Gate. The old story is
constantly repeating itself since the Homeric days. Duels were fought
betimes as a consequence, and the issue for one or both of the
combatants was generally fatal. Gambling in those days was, from a
worldly stand-point, the most profitable business, that is for the
professional player or the saloon-keeper. Indeed it was looked upon
as quite respectable. It has a strange fascination at all times for a
certain class, with whom it becomes a passion as much as love for the
wine-cup, and one must be well grounded in principle to resist its
influences. Many once noble souls who had been tenderly brought up
were led astray. Away from home and its restraining associations,
gambling, drinking, and other sins and vices became their ruin. In
calm moments when alone or under some momentary impulse of goodness
there would rise before them the vision of God-fearing parents--of
open Bibles--of hallowed Sundays; but the thirst for gold could not be
quenched, the mad race must be run, and to the bitter end, dishonour,
death, the grave! Shelley, if he had stood in the midst of the
gamblers, staking all, even their souls, for gold, in those California
days of wild revelry, could not have expressed himself more appositely
than in his graphic and truthful lines, in Queen Mab:
"Commerce has set the mark of selfishness;
The signet of its all-enslaving power
Upon a shining ore, and called it gold:
Before whose image bow the vulgar great,
The vainly rich, the miserable proud,
The mob of peasants, nobles, priests, and kings,
And with blind feelings reverence the power
That grinds them to the dust of misery.
But in the temple of their hireling hearts
Gold is a living god, and rules in scorn
All earthly things but virtue."
The saloons fifty years ago were the centres of attraction for the
over-wrought miner, the aimless wanderer, the creature of impulse,
the child of passion. They were decorated with an eye to brilliant
colours, to gorgeous effect, to all that appeals to the sensuous
element in our nature. They were the best built and most richly
furnished houses in the San Francisco of that period. The walls were
adorned with costly paintings, and the furniture was in keeping with
this lavish outlay. In each gambling house was a band of music, and a
skillful player received some $30 per night for his services. Painted
women were the presiding geniuses at the wheels of fortune and these
modern Circes or Sirens played the piano and the harp with all the
passion of their art to drown men's cares and make them forget duty
and principle and honour. The tables of the players of the games were
piled high with yellow gold to serve as a tempting bait. The games
were chiefly what are called in the nomenclature of the gambling
fraternity. Rouge-et-noir, Monté-faro, and Roulette. The men who lost,
whatever their feelings might be, and they were often bitter, as a
rule disguised their sore disappointment. They would try their luck
again, but this only led them deeper in the mire. Many an one lost a
princely fortune in a night. The gambling houses were located chiefly
around the Plaza or Portsmouth Square, of which we have already
spoken. They were filled, as a general thing, all night, with an eager
throng, especially on Sunday. Indeed everything then had its full
course on Sunday. There were various sports; drinking and gambling ran
riot. Blasphemous words filled the air. Men swore without the least
thought. But profanity is not alone restricted to a frontier or border
community, where laws and a sense of propriety are wanting. One may
hear it in old and civilised towns, as he walks the streets, and
sometimes from the lips of boys. In these saloons people of all ages
congregated from youth up to hoary hairs. Here were the Indian and the
Negro, the American and the Mexican, the Spaniard and the Frenchman,
the Italian, the Dutchman and the German, the Dane and the Russian,
the English, the Irish and the Scotchman, the Chinaman and the
Japanese. One of the most noted of the saloons was the Bella Union, a
Monte Carlo in itself. Woe betide the miner from the mountains with
gold who entered it. Here was a richly appointed bar to tempt the
desire for drink, while costly mirrors were arranged in such wise as
to reflect the scenes of revelry, and pictures that were worth large
sums of money hung on the walls. The silverware too would have done
credit to a royal board. Both the tables and the bar were well
patronised at all times.
Naturally with such elements of society, with the mad thirst for gold,
with the loose morality which prevailed to a large extent, there
would be great lawlessness. It must be borne in mind however that the
Christian Church was at work in those perilous times, which live only
in memory now, and was gradually leavening the whole lump. There were
devout men and true women in early San Francisco, who, in the midst of
"a crooked generation," kept themselves pure and "unspotted from the
world." And is it not true that men can hold fast their crown, that no
man take it from them, if only they will make use of the grace of God?
God has His faithful witnesses in every place, in every age, no matter
how corrupt. There are the "seven thousand" who do not bow the kneel
to Baal, there are the faithful "few names" even in Sardis who do not
defile their garments with the world. San Francisco had them in those
days of special temptation, brave and noble souls who could say with
Sir Galahad:
"My strength is as the strength of ten,
Because my heart is pure."
In this strength they rose up and purged the place, even though as
difficult as a labour of Hercules. The men of the Vigilance Committee
will ever live in song and story. Even up in the mountains in the gold
mines of El Dorado county and elsewhere the spirit of the men of
San Francisco was at work in the camps. Robbers were there, bold
characters, dark-browed men, who would not hesitate to steal, and
kill, if need be, in their nefarious work. The miners had their perils
to encounter in these bandits. The robbers had their dens in the
mountains in lonely places, beside a trail sometimes, and in the
depths of the forests. The dens had generally two rooms on the ground
floor and a loft which was reached by a ladder. If a belated miner
sought shelter or food here he was given a lodging in the loft. If he
drank with his "host" it would most likely be some liquor that was
drugged, and in his heavy sleep he was sure to be robbed. In the
morning he had no redress, and he might consider himself fortunate if
he escaped with his life. Sometimes however the robber was brought
to quick justice by the miners. Robbery was not countenanced in the
camps. If one should steal, his fellows would rise up, try him in a
hastily convened court, and condemn him to death, and hang him on
the nearest tree. It was a rule that the body should be exposed for
twenty-four hours as a warning to others. All this may seem harsh, but
under the circumstances it was the only way in which justice could
be dealt out to offenders. The camps were in consequence orderly and
safe. We must not think, because the Vigilance Committees of the
mining camps and of the city took the administration of law into their
own hands that therefore they were lawless and that their rule was
that of the mob. No, this was the only way in which peaceable citizens
could be protected from the violence and crimes perpetrated by the
turbulent and disorderly and vicious elements of society. In the years
1851 and 1852 there was great lawlessness in San Francisco. Bad men,
who had served terms in prisons for their misdeeds, and men who
wished to disorganise society, who had the spirit of anarchy in their
breasts, organised themselves into bands for the purpose of stealing
and killing, and good citizens stood in mortal fear of them. Buildings
were burned at pleasure, houses were broken open and robberies
committed, and even murder was resorted to when the wrongdoers found
it necessary in the accomplishment of their hellish purposes. The
officials of the city were careless in punishing offenders, indeed
they were powerless to do so, and the lawbreakers knew this. It is
said that over a hundred persons were murdered during the period
of six months; and the blood of these victims cried to Heaven for
vengeance. To assert the majesty of law and to punish criminals a
large number of the best citizens, who grieved over the evils which
prevailed, organised themselves into the famous Vigilance Committee.
The seal which they adopted showed their worthy purpose. In the centre
was the figure of a human eye to denote watchfulness. Above the eye
was the word, Committee,--beneath, Vigilance; then the name, San
Francisco. Around the edge of the seal ran the legends: "Fiat Justitia
Ruat Coelum. No creed; no party; no sectional issues." While not
constituted exactly like the Court of Areopagus, yet the Vigilance
Committee of San Francisco did for a time exercise authority over
life and death like the Athenian judges on Mars' Hill. The shaft of
lightning first fell on an ex-convict who was caught stealing. Eighty
members of the Committee tried and convicted him, and on the same
night he was hanged in Portsmouth Square in view of the saloons. A
thrill ran through the whole community, and when, the next morning,
the people read the names of the prominent citizens who served on
the Committee, their action made a deep and salutary impression. The
Vigilance Committee prosecuted its work till the city was purged of
its evils, and it exercised from time to time its authority until the
year 1856. As a result of its firmness, its promptness in punishing
criminals, and its high-minded aims, the land had rest for twenty
years. A weak administration of justice is an encouragement to wrong
doing. Municipal and state officials can best serve their city and
country by dealing quick and severe blows at lawlessness; but to be
effective they must be men of integrity, above reproach, and withal
just. To-day San Francisco is one of the most orderly and best
governed cities in the United States. During my rambles through its
streets I went to and fro at all hours without being molested. I never
met a drunken man or a disorderly person. The city feels the effect of
the Committee's good work even to this latest hour. It serves as an
example. Justice is dealt out speedily to offenders. There are few
if any technical delays of the law and the criminal rarely escapes
without punishment. Some examples have occurred recently which show
that the judges of the superior courts are alive to their duty and
that they can perform it when the occasion arises. A man named John H.
Wood, a former soldier, was convicted of highway robbery, and he was
speedily sentenced to imprisonment for life in Folsom Penitentiary.
Judge Cook who passed sentence on him took the position that a man who
used a deadly weapon in the commission of his crime should receive the
full penalty of the law. A man who holds a pistol to shoot will take
life, therefore he ought to have a life sentence. Wood, who belongs
to a wealthy family in Texas, has a checkered history. He served as
a soldier for a time in the Philippine Islands. Here he deserted his
post and committed highway robbery. He was tried by court martial for
larceny and convicted. Then he was brought to San Francisco and put
in the military prison on the Island of Alcatraz. He was finally
discharged from the army in disgrace. A few months ago he tried to rob
a showcase man and held a revolver at his head while he seized a watch
and chain. He was immediately arrested by three officers, and a month
after he was sentenced for life. As showing the depravity of the
man he said after receiving sentence: "That is an awful dose, and I
haven't had my breakfast yet." Possibly in prison he will reflect upon
his evil life, and be softened, and repent. He might have been a good
citizen, worthy of his country; but he hardened his heart and sank
deeper and deeper in his degradation. Oh, the hardening of the heart!
It was Pharaoh's sin. It is the sin of many an one now.
Another highway robber, Edward Davis, was sentenced at the same time
with Wood to serve in the State Penitentiary for thirty-three years.
He also pointed a pistol to the head of his victim. But thirty-three
years! He will probably die in prison. It is a life thrown away, one
of God's best gifts. But if stern justice be meted out here in this
world, what must the unrepenting sinner, who has trampled the divine
law under foot, expect in the world to come? San Francisco teaches a
lesson which reaches farther than an earthly tribunal. The judge
on his bench is an image of the Judge who weighs human life in His
balances.
There is of course crime in San Francisco as in all other cities.
Indeed crime is universal, whether in the Orient or the Occident. The
Chief of Police Wittman accounts for highway robbery, to the extent
in which it prevails, from the fact that San Francisco is a garrison
city. Here are numerous recruits and discharged soldiers, and, as a
seaport, it draws to itself the scum and offscourings of all nations,
Hindoos, Chinese, Malays, and all other kinds of people.
The police force is hardly adequate to patrol the entire city. It
consists only of 589 men all told, and they are fine, manly looking
guardians of the law, always ready to do their duty, always courteous
to strangers, answering all questions intelligently. It is claimed,
moreover, that the criminal element of the country drifts to San
Francisco in the winter on account of the climate and also through the
attractions of the racetrack. The police also find that the places
where poker-games are played are a rendezvous for criminals. In 1887
and 1888 there was an outbreak of highway robbery, but the grand
jury acted promptly in the matter and the courts soon suppressed it.
Property and life therefore are jealously guarded in the City of the
Golden Gate, and bad characters who go thither to prey on the public
soon get their deserts. In this respect then San Francisco is a
desirable place in which to live.
One evening in company with a party of friends, Rev. Dr. Ashton of
Clean, N.Y., Rev. Dr. Reynold Marvin Kirby of Potsdam, N.Y., Rev.
Clarence Ernest Ball of Alexandria, Va., Rev. Henry Sidney Foster of
Green Bay, Wis., the Rev. William Barnaby Thorne of Marinette, Wis.,
and Doctor Robert J. Gibson, surgeon in the United States Army,
stationed at San Francisco, I visited the police headquarters,
situated on the east side of Portsmouth Square. This is a large
building of several stories with numerous offices. The chief in his
office on the main floor, on the right hand of the entrance, received
us courteously and assigned to us a detective according to an
arrangement previously made with Ashton. In the office were portraits
of police commissioners and the chiefs and others who had been
connected with the department for many years. Entering an elevator we
were soon on the topmost floor where were the cells in which prisoners
just arrested and waiting for trial were confined. The doors of the
cells, all of iron, were opened or closed by moving a lever. It was
now about 9:30 P.M., and officers were bringing in such persons as had
been arrested for theft, for assault and battery, for drunkenness and
other kinds of evil doing. Towards daybreak the cells are pretty well
filled, but now they were nearly empty. How true His words who knows
what is in man. "Men love darkness rather than light because their
deeds are evil!"
One young man who had killed another in a quarrel was pointed out to
us. The woman who loved him and who expected to be his wife, and still
had faith in him, was at his side, with her sister, conversing with
him between her sobs, in a low earnest tone. He seemed greatly
agitated. A detective stood a little way off from the trio. The
evidence was strong against the murderer, and an officer said to us
that there was no chance for him to escape from the penalty of the
law. In a cell was a young Chinese woman, just brought in, possibly
for disorderly conduct. She could not have been more than fifteen
or sixteen years old. She was pretty and refined in appearance and
handsomely dressed, and she wept as if her heart would break. Not yet
hardened by sin, and probably imprisoned for the first time, she felt
the shame and degradation of her lot. I could not but feel pity for
her, and expressed sorrow for her, though she may not have understood
my words. At least she could interpret the signs of sympathy in voice
and expression. These are a universal language. Maybe she was more
sinned against than sinning,--and that Divine One Who reads all hearts
and knows the temptations and snares which beset unwary feet, would
say to her--"Go, and sin no more!"
In another cell was an old offender who had a face furrowed with sin.
As we looked at her I could see that she regarded our presence as an
intrusion. I recalled Dr. Watt's lines:
"Sinners who grow old in sin
Are hardened in their crimes."
Yet there is an awakening of the conscience at last, and even a prison
house with its corrections may be a door of escape from that other
prison of the sinful soul from which no one can go forth, be he
culprit or juror, counsellor or judge, until his pardon is pronounced
by Him who can forgive sins.