BURNING OF HARPENDING BLOCK PROVIDES FINE SPECTACLE, BUT
OVERSIGHT OF OWNER COSTS HIM DEARLY.
_George Hearst Makes Stake on Comstock and Celebrates by Taking Joe
Clark on a Trip to Europe._
I was busy with other things besides real estate investments, financing
railroads, and politics, during the five years between 1865 and 1870.
In 1869 I built the first fine business block on the south side of
Market street, the Harpending Block, between First and Second streets.
It was also in 1869-1870 that Ralston and myself built the Grand Hotel,
partly on our own land, partly on land belonging to the Platt estate,
which we held under 20 years’ lease.
The Harpending Block cost nearly $400,000. It was burned two years
later, contributing the biggest fire in San Francisco since the ’50’s.
Through an oversight of my agent, the insurance hardly represented a
tenth of the loss. The Grand Hotel remained for several years the last
word in the hotel business of the Pacific Coast. It was its phenomenal
success from the outset that induced Ralston later to embark in the
Palace Hotel project, which contributed in a large measure to his ruin.
I owned a three-fourths interest in the Grand Hotel; Ralston owned the
balance.
No one who has ever had much to do with mining can keep out of that
fascinating business very long. When I returned to San Francisco
from Havilah, it was my solemn intention to abandon mining forever
thereafter and confine my efforts to what was known as “legitimate
business,” whatever that may be; I have never found out. But I hadn’t
more than barely got my bearings before I began to make casual
incursions in a sly way into the old field of endeavor, and thus had a
personal and financial acquaintance with, I think, all of the heroic
figures who created the vast deep-mining industry of the far West.
Only one of these big men has lasted down to our own time. J. B.
Haggin[A] still lives at his home in Lexington, Ky., at a great age--90
or more--and until recently in the enjoyment of good health. A story
used to be current in San Francisco that in the early pioneer days
Haggin was a devotee of play at the El Dorado and Union. One night,
so the narrative runs, after successive losses he borrowed $100, to
win or take the gambler’s last alternative. But he had no occasion
for the latter. He stood calm and imperturbable as the hundred
became a thousand, and then tens of thousands, while a circle of
mute, white-faced gamblers stood fascinated at his luck, until the
proprietor, in a voice that showed no tremor, quietly announced the
bank closed for the night. The story goes on to say that Mr. Haggin
never touched a card from that day forth. All of this I have only on
hearsay. Mr. Haggin lives to tell whether it is true or false.
[A] Since the above was written, Mr. Haggin died.
[Illustration: J. B. HAGGIN
Successful miner and a true financial genius]
But if he abandoned gambling in one direction, he took it up in
another. In the mining industry he was a plunger, par excellence. I do
not mean that he invested recklessly or without mature investigation,
but when he once made up his mind, a few millions, more or less, never
moved him from his purpose. The broad, liberal way he played the game
had more to do with the development of the West than perhaps anything
else.
Haggin had nothing in common with good fellowship. He was always
silent, sober and cold. But under it all he must have had a heart. He
was the only one I ever knew who remembered the men who helped to give
him wealth. Every man, without exception, who rendered Haggin faithful,
efficient service, he made rich. And he was very loyal to his friends.
In these days--and other days--when men of power exhaust the energies
of their subordinates and then toss them without concern on the scrap
pile, like so many sucked-out oranges, and treat their business
associates just a shade better, an example such as Haggin gave ought
not to be overlooked.
George Hearst was probably the greatest natural miner who ever had a
chance to bring his talents into play on a large scale. He was not a
geologist, had no special education to start with, was not overburdened
with book learning, but he had a congenital instinct for mining, just
as some other people have for mathematics, music or chess. He was not
a man of showy parts, liked the company of a lot of cronies, to whom
he was kind and serviceable--when he wasn’t broke himself--was much
inclined to take the world easy, but if anyone mentioned mines in his
presence, it had the same effect as saying, “Rats!” to a terrier.
Hearst became alert and on dress parade in a moment.
Hearst made his first big stake on the Comstock Lode, a year after it
was uncovered in 1858. He was associated with his cousin, Joe Clark,
and William M. Lent. I do not know the exact size of the clean-up, but
it must have reached into seven figures. Such an event, in the old days
was always made memorable by some kind of a “jamboree.”
Now, Joe Clark was a southwestern man, hailing from a section not
far from where I originated myself. All of us were inclined to be
provincial. For instance, Joe Clark believed that St. Louis was not
only the most magnificent but the largest city in the world. He had
many heated discussions on the subject and several times backed his
opinions with coin. He declared that the Rue de Rivoli was a pale
shadow alongside of the glories of Laclede avenue. He swore that St.
Louis was bigger than London, more cultured than Athens during the age
of Pericles and grander and more picturesque than Babylon, when the
hanging gardens were in full bloom.
It is said that Hearst suggested a “blow out” in Europe after their
clean-up, in order to disabuse his kinsman’s mind of certain illusions
respecting St. Louis. At any rate, the two husky young miners set their
faces eastward to look over the effete monarchies of the Old World.
[Illustration: GEORGE HEARST
An unsurpassed mining genius, former U. S. Senator]
While they were pleasure bound, “Bill” Lent stayed behind to look
after the investments. He sunk a shaft which headed dead on for the
big bonanza and had he continued the work a little further, Flood,
O’Brien, Mackay and Fair would have cut a very small figure in history.
But he engaged unfortunately in a seductive looking speculation and
went to pieces in a grand pyrotechnic and spectacular failure. Hearst
and Clark were hopelessly involved. They received the news while they
were making the tour of Europe with much eclat. Fortunately they had
money enough to reach home. But the main object of the journey was
accomplished. When Joe Clark mentioned St. Louis thereafter, it was the
voice of a chastened soul that spoke.
Of course, nothing could keep Hearst down in a mining region. Any
capitalist was only too eager to back a man with such surpassing
talents; but he had to pay an awful toll. For years Hearst’s projects
were financed at 2½ per cent. per month compounded monthly, and any
business that can stand that strain and come out ahead must have a
solid foundation to build on. He was the real founder not only of his
own but of the vast Haggin and Tevis fortunes.
I had mining deals of more or less importance with Haggin, Hearst,
Hayward, Hobart, Grayson, in fact, with nearly all the large operators
of those times. My largest speculations, however, were with Ralston as
a silent partner, which, on average, showed more profit than loss. It
was for the purpose of joint investment that late in the fall of 1870
I visited the Emma mine near Salt Lake City, which a year later was
the central point of a great international scandal and will play an
important part in this narrative.