USA > California > San Francisco County > San Francisco > Men and memories of San Francisco in the "spring of '50" > Part 8
Note: The text from this book was generated using artificial intelligence so there may be some errors. The full pages can be found on Archive.org (link on the Part 1 page).
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14
153
OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO.
was a rapid and evidently satisfactory consulta- tion. T. B --- had undoubtedly concluded, as many men since that day have also believed, that when prominent men are possessed of the public ear, and-little facts-'twere best to sub- sidize. Whatever were the terms of that whis- pered compact, the obnoxious utterance ยท was never heard again.
The figure, dress, and especially the hat of the candy man, calls to our memory the fancy coachman and his stunning carriage and pair- a real English turnout, the hired possession of which, for an hour or two, almost led a man into the belief that he was more than the self-same individual on foot-that he surely must have been intended by Nature for the occupant of that equipage, despite Fortune's shortcom- ings. The driver, horses and carriage came from Australia, and took up their position on the southeast corner of the Plaza and Kearny
street. The driver was the most convention- ally correct type of an English coachman, pos- sible to imagine. His sleek, tall, black hat, drab coat of many capes, his spick-span gaunt- lets, his whip, and the technique of its position upon his knee, with his hand clasped upon its long handle, just above the polished rings, re- minded one of a king of England, sitting on
154
MEN AND MEMORIES
his throne, with sceptre-handle resting on the royal knee, as represented in our child- hood's picture books. It was such a wonderful thing to ride behind this dignitary; to make calls or " shop," hedged round by such a tower of strength; so like "Pa's carriage," and not the least odor of a hired hack. Ten dollars an hour, if engaged three hours, or more; fifteen dollars per hour for two hours; and twenty for the single hour. Seldom was he idle. He made his turnout so attractive that patrons felt satis- fied, and he never wanted for custom. We be- lieve that, as a rule, those who, seeking public support, perform their part better than any other, get their reward. The coachman of our sketch most surely did, for he purchased a wholesome bill of exchange on "the old lady of Threadneedle street" when he left for home.
155
OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO.
CHAPTER XVI.
THERE were a number of little public houses, of the lowest order and worst reputation, scat- tered about on the hillside, bounded by the lines of Montgomery, Kearny, Pacific and Broad- way, and still higher up the hill, in 1849, '50 and '51. Shabby little dens, with rough, hang- dog fellows lounging about their doorways; fellows with their features concealed by slouched hats; fellows who always had a way of sliding out of sight when you looked at them, as if they were averse to looking any one in the eye. Skulking knaves, shunning observation in the daylight, but very inquisitive after dark, coming close up to the passer-by, with an effrontery of persistent, impudent curiosity, very disconcerting to the timid or unarmed, be- nighted citizen. Nearly, or quite, all of these cribs were kept by Sydney men and women of the lowest class. The signs, swinging or nailed above the doors, were the old, historical, En- glish or Scotch public-house names, found all
156
MEN AND MEMORIES
over Great Britain and Australia. The familiar
ale-house names, "The Magpie," "The Bobby Burns,' "The Boar's Head,' "The Bird in Hand," "The Jolly Waterman," "Tam O'Shan- ter," "The Bay of Biscay," and such time-honor- ed inn names. The man whose path happened to pass these places after night fall, in those days when the way was all unevenness and darkness, the hill-side steep and toilsome, no lights, and the neighborhood with very few respectable dwellings, did not feel as safe as when upon the populous streets below. If his step were firm and regular, if he carried his head up and went bravely on his way, his steps were dogged but a short distance. If the skulking follower were suddenly confronted, and heard the sharp, omi- nous click, click! he "vanished like a ghost at cock-crow;" but woe to the purse, if not the person, of the unlucky man who came that way oblivious of his whereabouts, his watchfulness lulled, and napping, by reason of potent and deep libations. Many a man came to conscious- ness at daylight, lying chilled and benumbed on the damp hillside, with his head in an agony of fiery pain, unable to bridge the impenetrable chasm of the past few hours; the only gleam of light upon the situation, dawning upon him through the discovery that his money, watch,
157
OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO.
knife and pistol-every article of value he re- membered having on his person when last con- scious-were gone. The sand-bag weapon of assassination is silent, sudden and deadly, unless the robber be merciful-cares only for the money, not the life-happens to be in good humor, and does not strike maliciously. The sand-bag is sure death, if the blow be heavy, leaving no outward mark, no fracture, no trick- ling blood or swelled abrasion. It jars the brain to utter and eternal oblivion. " Found dead -- no marks of violence-apoplexy the supposed cause," was not an unfrequent notice in the Alta and Herald of those days.
MacClaren's Hotel, on the little lane leading from Mission-just where the residence of Geo. Wright used to stand, now Woodward's Garden -through to Folsom street, was a cozy, quiet, sleepy little public house, built close against sand-hills, rising higher than its roof, shel- tering it from the north and west winds, as it stood facing the south and basking in the fer- vent sunlight, just midway in the sandy path between the streets, and sufficiently remote to lose the noisy rumble of the carriages on both. A jolly place to lounge in easy, ricketty, old China cane chairs and on bulgy old sofas, with one's hat
158
MEN AND MEMORIES
tipped down over face and eyes, shutting out the sun's light, while feeling its warm, revitaliz- ing comfort stealing through every nerve and bone in the sleepy body, and no sudden clat- ter of hoofs or rattling carriage wheels dashing up to disturb one's somnolent enjoyment. The roadway of the lane was sandy and dry in some places, and in others, a little, lazy brook crept across, smoothing and wetting it like the sea beach; and as you sat, doz- ing away the hours, idle, for the time, 'tis true, but, imbibing at every pore a fresh stock of life and strength for future labors, the voices of new comers reached your ear before the tramp- ing of their horses' hoofs, muffled by the soft sand; and the impulse to get into a dignified, sitting posture gave way, sleepily, to the ques- tion, "From which direction are they coming?"
You were quite sure they were from the Mis- sion road, when first you heard them, and lifted back your hat just enough to blink a little at the trees skirting that portion of the lane; but the effort was too much-the bright sunlight dancing through the reticulated stems and leaves, was quite confusing to your long-shaded eyes, and you drew down your sheltering som- brero, and sank back again to muse upon it. You dropped asleep in a second's time, and in
159
OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO.
the same time woke again, fully impressed with the belief that hours had passed since you fell off, while waiting to see who they were-those people coming down the lane from the Mission road-end, and-very curious-there they were ! right upon the ground before the house, but from the Folsom street way. Rousing and vainly endeavoring to solve the problem, whether it was MacClaren's beer, or the Stilton, that had made you "lose yourself"-you observe that the guests, laughing and chatting so merrily, are George Aiken, Charley Rebello and Captain Maryatt, three vivacious young Britishers, all well mounted and good horsemen.
They do not permit you to doze in the sun during their stay. At sight of them Mac hails his spouse, who quickly appears with cold meats, pickles and relishes, an old English cheese, but- ter, and a big, home-made loaf, while Mac com- mences opening beer-not one bottle, but many-long, yellow-labelled bottles of Allsopp. What an appetite for beer, and for bread and cheese, too, those young Englishmen had in those days; and as to that matter, their Ameri- can cousins were not very slow, in those bright days of youth, health, hope and unsophisticated stomachs. What a wonderful incentive to eat- ing, is the air of California, and how good the
160
MEN AND MEMORIES
bread and butter used to be at MacClaren's! Good butter in those days was a rare thing. Many people used to ride out to Mac's just to eat the scarce delicacy. They would become indignant at their sour French bread or stereo- typed German loaf, and firkin butter, via Pana- ma, worked over in lime-water, stamped in little pats, and sworn to as fresh ranch butter; and thinking of the sweet, fresh, cool, genuine luxury, and the great, crisp, brown, home-made English loaf, always to be found at Mac's, they would straightway march to the nearest stable and hire a saddle horse or vehicle, to make the quickest time for that cozy, old, English public- house, now gone the way of all mortality.
William Vincent Wallace, the highly gifted composer of "Maritana," was in San Francisco in its early days. The precise time of his ar- rival from Australia we never knew, nor the date of his departure for New York; but we are sure that he was in the latter place very early in 1853. Wallace came every day while in San Francisco, to an ale-house on California street, very near where now is the office of the Spring Valley Water Works Co. The ale-house was kept by an Englishman named Jackson, a man of culture, taste and talent, and something
161
OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO.
of an artist. He molded a little plaster medallion of Wallace's head in profile, an artistic produc- tion, and a good likeness. Wallace, as we re- member him, was about five feet eight inches in height; a round, white, high forehead, and nearly bald upon the crown, but the rest of his well- shaped head plentifully clothed with light brown, almost flaxen hair. He wore the English style of side whiskers, but no moustache or imperial ; his weight must have been near one hundred and seventy pounds.
It is said that Wallace was an Irishman, and we are quite certain that he was, although his appearance was that of a Scotchman or blonde Britisher. His manner was reticent, save with congenial people, but quietly affable at all times. Wallace's wife died in San Francisco, and was buried in Happy Valley, which seemed at that time more remote than the Lone Mountain of to-day. Happy Valley was frequently a place of sepulture prior to the establishment of Yerba Buena cemetery; but the spot where all those dead, still sleep, can now be no more pointed out, than the blue ocean wave, which once opened to receive its dead, gently enfolding and concealing them forever.
In the second story of Macondray & Co's 11
162
MEN AND MEMORIES
store, corner of Sansome and Pine, were sleep- ing apartments for members of the firm and clerks in the house. One afternoon towards dusk, Tom Cary, who had been posting books in one of the up-stairs rooms, where he might not be disturbed, came out of the room towards the stairway descending to the main store, when he noticed Belcher Kay's head, just above the edge of the floor around the staircase. Kay, who was taking a rapid survey of the interior, started in a confused way, saying "Ah, how d'ye do ?- rooms up-stairs, eh ?- do people sleep up here ?- nice place, eh?" " Yes, Belcher," said Mr. Cary, in a pointed way, "there are several men sleep up here, and they are always well armed; and we have watchmen, and dogs that do not sleep in case the watchman should hap- pen to." The tone of this reply was too sig- nificant not to be understood by Belcher, who simply said, "Ah, just so. Good evening, Mr. Cary," and withdrew.
Kay, who had been elected to the office of Port Warden for San Francisco, and treated with much kindness by gentlemen who were for- merly pupils in his school for the art of self de- fense, had failed to appreciate it, returning to his old ways, and association with thieves and burglars, as subsequent events verified. He
163
OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO.
was assisted by a confrere from Boston in his escape. The day we came ashore in San Fran- cisco, we were walking with a friend who came on our ship, and who at home was a pupil at Kay's gymnasium. Kay was delighted to see one of his old scholars, and asked, as a great favor, if he would go down to his boat-Kay was the Port Warden then-and make a few notes for him, as he had injured his right hand and was unable to hold a pencil. The whilom pupil at once consented, and we went off aboard the ship. Kay issued his orders, which were duly noted down by the impromptu clerk, who soon came ashore. When we were alone, he laughed, saying, " You didn't understand that dodge!'' "What is it?" "Nothing; only Kay never could write."
In the month of January, '51, or perhaps some time earlier, in the last of '50, Mr. Nathaniel Page was unloading some lumber on the beach, between Sacramento and California streets, as near as we can remember, about where Halleck street joins Leidesdorff. While giving his orders to the workmen engaged, Mr. Page was peremptorily ordered to remove that lumber and vacate the premises. Looking around at the person so dictatorial, Mr. Page saw Captain
164
MEN AND MEMORIES
Folsom gesticulating violently; and before any explanation could be made, the Captain drew his revolver and fired at Mr. Page. The shot struck the watch in the latter's pocket, hitting it with a slant, glancing off, and perforating the side of a boat about fifty feet distant. Mr. Page wore his watch in the waistband pocket of his pants, as was the fashion in those days, and a very fortunate thing for Mr. Page that it was the fashion just at that moment. The oc- currence attracted some attention and a little gathering at the moment, otherwise no notice was taken of it. Might was right in those days, and Captain Folsom was very arbitrary and dic- tatorial, by reason of his position and the funds at his command, and was accustomed to imme- diate obedience. He was a generous, impulsive man, but too hasty on this occasion, having no reason to fear any squatter pretension from Mr. Page, who was as good a citizen as lived in the community ; and, we are pleased to say, that we consider him such at the present writing. Pis- tols were very freely used by hot-headed people in early days. Captain Folsom, we know, was ashamed of his conduct, for he afterward dealt largely in a business way with the man whose life he had endangered.
165
OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO.
CHAPTER XVII.
STARKEY, JANION & Co's store was on the southwest corner of California and Sansome streets. It stood in an enclosure with gates. The building was two stories, with a steep, sloping roof, and had a balcony or veranda around the second story. The building was painted white, and the posts and rails of the veranda were painted green. The building in those days seemed quite substantial and spa- cious. In the evening, after business hours, the gates were closed, all snug and secluded, when ruddy-faced, portly men might be seen leisurely pacing the balcony, smoking their No. 1 Manilas, suggestive of men who had dined well, and drank good old port with dessert; comfortable looking men, the sight of whom would excite the envy of some passer-by, who had "dined uke Humphrey." The fire swept away this house, leaving no vestige of the comfortable looking composite of store, counting house and residence.
166
MEN AND MEMORIES
West of Starkey, Janion & Co's store, on the south side of California street, were the stores of Glen & Co., Backus & Harrison, S. H. Wil- liams & Co., DeBoum, Vigneaux & Grisar, and G. B. Post & Co.
After the fire of June 14th, 1850, J. L. Rid- dle & Co. built an extensive shanty of China matting, wisely concluding that if conflagrations were to be so frequent, it were better to raise a mere shelter for their goods, at the least possi- ble expense.
The building occupied by this firm prior to the fire of June 14th, was a substantial three story wooden store on Sacramento street, north side, just above the corner of Leidesdorff. The upper story of this building was used as a dormitory for all the acquaintances of the firm who wished to sleep there-ship masters who happened to be late ashore-new arrivals who had not established themselves-any man or boy who knew Riddle & Co. It was a spacious . room, nearly square. Hammocks were slung at every corner and available post. All about the room were cots, stretchers and mattresses, plenty of blankets and pillows, but no sheets or pillow-cases.
Against the walls on all sides were large China water-jars, China wash-stands and large
167
OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO.
China-stone wash-basins, and cocoanut-shell dippers. Nearly all the furniture then was of China importation; and very commodious, stylish and comfortable it was, too. The man who went early to bed in this apartment, might sleep undisturbed until midnight or a little after; but about that time, several young men, not long from Boston, would return from protracted meetings-young men musically in- clined, who wished to rehearse just once more before retiring. These birds of Minerva would sometimes discover that a sleeper had posses- sion of a very comfortable place they fancied for themselves, which would cause a playful argument on the sleeper's right of possession. When Judge Blackburn, Bob Parker and Char- ley Southard were in town, Riddle & Co's hos- pitable roof sheltered them, and they were not disposed to sleep, as long as any fun could be got out of anybody or anything.
Judge Blackburn would have a wrestling match with Charley Southard, and as the Judge was about six feet four and Charley about four feet six, it was considered rather unequal, and excited lively comments from the aroused and thoroughly interested fellow-lodgers. Bets were freely offered by Jim Riddle, Eben Niles, Ward Eaton, Jim Leighton, Harry Spiel, et al.
168
MEN AND MEMORIES
Some one would throw a pillow, or a light cane chair, or some harmless thing, to trip up the contestants, which roused the ire of some one else who had a wager pending; then there was a general hullabaloo, and pelting of pillows, mattresses, china cushions, etc., a perfect pan- demonium. There were no ladies or children to disturb; nothing that the fellows did seemed to hurt them; their heads and stomachs seemed stronger than copper, and sleep was almost ignored.
Captain Charley Scholfield was always to be seen at Riddle & Co's in the day time; he had a little house of his own-his "ranch," as he liked to call it. He was a very eccentric man; affected the nautical, bluff style, interspersing his remarks very freely with emphatic exple- tives, and assuming a rough deportment entirely foreign to his nature, for he was all gentleness and kindness. He always wore a full suit of navy blue, prim, plain and old-fashioned, a brown vicuna hat, never changing the style, as the city changed and '49 customs gradually vanished. He clung to everything belonging to the days when everybody was free and easy, liberal and unconventional, and gradually dis- appeared from his old haunts-or, perhaps, they disappeared from him-and he lived almost in
169
OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO.
seclusion, in his little box on Post street, next to the large lot on which Alcalde Hyde's house stood. Here, to the last, he lived as they used to live in the pioneer days; his little single cot and blankets, the big China water-jar-its cover a piece of redwood, with a nail in the centre for a handle-the cocoanut-shell dipper; a demi- john under the table; clean glasses on the table -the Captain was scrupulously neat-and a box of cigars on the shelf, welcome to all who had the open sesame of an early residente. It is many years since the Captain went the way of all good pioneers; but many are left who will recog- nize his peculiarities recalled by our sketch.
The fire of June 14th, 1850, smoked out the habitues of Riddle & Co's upper story, and most of them went to the rooms over Mr. Hoff's store, on the extreme end of Howison's Pier, which was crowded with goods of every de- scription, saved from the fire. Close against Mr. Hoff's store was a large quantity of cloth- ing-black dress suits. The morning after the fire, we were all standing on the pier, looking at the ruins of the city, when a pleasant, black- eyed little man, with an aquiline nose-a brisk little man, who had been standing thoughtfully looking at the goods on the pier, and many suits lying in the mud, where they had been crowded
170
MEN AND MEMORIES
off the pier-suddenly came up to us and said : " Gentlemen, if any of those clothes will fit any of you, help yourselves! You are quite wel- come to them; there's no place to store them, and they'll be ruined here. I shall enter them on my books as closed out by fire!" We all stared at him, when he commenced talking to us, supposing him demented by losses or over- exertion at the fire, and want of sleep; but the good sense of his remarks was quite convincing; very much so to men just relieved of their wardrobes, and we were not slow in returning thanks and availing ourselves of the kind offer. Shortly after, the entire party looked as if they were ready for church, soiree or funeral. For years after this incident it was a standing remark with all of them, meeting any one of the num- ber with new clothes, to say: "Ah! where was the fire ?"
It was considered the correct thing, among the men of that time, to help themselves to a clean shirt from the collection of the friend under whose roof night had overtaken them. There was a discrepancy, of course, when host and guest were greatly different in stature; but little things like that were not of any moment in those exciting, prosperous days. The long- limbed man sometimes had to coax the wrist-
171
OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO.
bands of his short friend's shirt, and the short- necked individual's ears were sometimes in danger from the stiff-starched collar of his long- necked, hospitable friend. The laundry clerk who did not mark with care each lot of linen, could never have sorted them by sizes; while it was nothing strange for a man to find only one or two shirts that would fit him, out of his clean dozen from the laundry.
Captain Gillespie was the wharfinger at Long Wharf (a very short wharf it was really) in 1850. Young Eddy was the assistant wharfinger, and young O' Brien the gate-clerk. Capt. Gillespie is now in an insurance office in New York. Mr. Eddy was afterwards in Newhall & Gregory's auction and commission-house, and subsequently was Quartermaster in the U. S. Army. He per- ished in the calamity which befel the steamer Brother Jonathan, off our northern coast. Gen. Wright and wife, and Capt. Chaddock, of the U. S. Revenue Service, were lost on board the same vessel. The engines which were on this ill-fated steamer urged to destruction the At- lantic and her doomed passengers on Long Island Sound, many long years before.
The late Harry Isaacs succeeded Capt. Gilles- pie as wharfinger, and subsequently was pro-
172
MEN AND MEMORIES
prietor of the "Identical," where Hussey, Bond & Hale were located, previous to building on Sansome, near California.
Capt. David Scannell, late Chief Engineer of the San Francisco Fire Department, came to California in 1850. He was captain of a New York company in the war with Mexico, and was in every battle, from the Rio Grande to the city of Mexico, behaving with the utmost gallantry in every engagement. He was Sheriff of San Francisco at a time when all his surroundings were of a nature to prejudice the public against him; but he never, knowingly, touched a dis- honest dollar in his life. We were once of a widely different opinion; but for the past seven- teen years have had constant opportunities to note that he is always an efficient officer, a punc- tiliously honorable man, ever a peacemaker- full of charity and kindness. We are pleased to record this of a man to whom great injustice was done in the community, but of whom one estimate only can exist in the minds of those who really and truly know him.
Hussey, Bond & Hale were on Howison's Pier in 1850, and subsequently on Sansome street, near the southwest corner of California. Mr. Bond was more a resident of New York than
173
OF EARLY SAN FRANCISCO.
San Francisco. Messrs. Hussey and Hale were the resident partners here. The latter filled the office of City Auditor for many years, with honor to himself, and satisfaction to his fellow- citizens. As a business man and an accountant, Mr. Henry M. Hale has had few equals in Cali- fornia. For many years Mr. Hale was the busi- ness manager of the San Francisco Sugar Refin- ing Co., and confidential secretary of the late George Gordon.
Mr. James Laidley was on Commercial street in August, 1850. He erected a house there, as soon as the new extension of the street was completed from Montgomery to Kearny. It was a frame house, made and fitted in Phila- delphia, and brought to San Francisco on the ship Wm. V. Kent. Mr. Laidley shipped another house from Philadelphia on the Algoma. The latter house was erected on First street, nearly opposite Donahue's foundry, and was called " The Isthmus." It was kept as a lodging- house by a Mr. Haste. The accommodations were open bunks, in rows or tiers, along each side of the room, and a double row in the cen- tre. The couch draperies were gray blankets and pillows, minus the linen cases, or any other cases, for which luxuries one dollar per night was the
Need help finding more records? Try our genealogical records directory which has more than 1 million sources to help you more easily locate the available records.