USA > California > San Francisco County > San Francisco > Men and memories of San Francisco in the "spring of '50" > Part 9
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charge. Mr. Laidley was the owner, but not interested in the business of either of the houses. Whatever Mr. Laidley does interest himself in, is very effectually carried out, and a truer friend or more liberal man never came to California.
J. C. Flood and W. S. O' Brien were living on the corner of Pacific and Mason streets in 1849- 50, boarding at Mr. Parker's house. Whether they were "Flood & O' Brien" then, as a busi- ness firm or not, we cannot say; but they were friends, and have been no less so in all the years of business partnership-that crucible-like test of character and friendship. Mr. O'Brien we remember as dealing in produce, a very profit- able business early in '50. Afterwards, we think, he kept the United States Hotel. Some years after this time we knew Mr. Flood as Flood & O' Brien, on Washington street, near Sansome, and have always found him very like his partner-an unassuming, amiable man, al- ways prompt, shrewd and correct in business.
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CHAPTER XVIII.
IN the early days of San Francisco, men were not in the least fastidious about their occupa- tion. Young gentlemen of elegant leisure in the older cities, scholars just graduated from college, boys just away from the counting-house desk, attracted hither by the golden stories, took hold manfully at rough laborers' work. There is to-day a banker on Montgomery street, who stepped upon the beach in San Francisco with only half a dollar in his pocket, in the early part of 1849, then a boy less than nineteen years of age. He had a letter to a prominent man in the city, but was too sensitive to pre- sent it. While standing, thinking what to do, he was accosted by a man, who said, " Want to go to work for an hour or two?" "Yes, sir," eagerly answered the boy, following, with no more words. His first work in California was to assist another young fellow, who stood wait- ing, to remove a pile of lumber to make way for the foundation of a new store. This job
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lasted a couple of hours, for which he received five dollars. Elated by his first endeavor and its good remuneration, he walked farther up the hill (it was a gradual rise then from the beach to the top of Clay street hill) until he reached the Plaza (Portsmouth Square), where he halted to observe some men digging for the foundation of the Parker House.
After standing a few minutes, he was hailed by the foreman : "Want to work ?" "Yes, sir." " Come on; here's a shovel !" This paid him well. The next job was a good long one, light- ering coal, which, when finished, left money enough in his pocket to start a fruit and pea-nut stand on the Plaza, which paid him a nice little sum daily. One day, a man came up to his stand, called him by name, and shook his hand cordially. It was one of the firm in whose store he had commenced life after leaving school. The new comer, just landed and unsophisticated, asked, "Wouldn't you rather be at work in the old store again ?" "No thank'e, sir," said the boy, "I'm clearing every day more than I used to receive in a month in the old store."
Another old resident, who has houses and lands to-day, was standing on Montgomery street, near Clay, wishing to begin work in his new
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home, when a man came to the door of the store where our friend stood, and said, "Look here, my friend, if you won't get mad about it, I'll offer you a dollar to fill that box with sand." " Thank you," said the young fellow, "I'll fill it all day long on those terms, and never be- come angry in the least." "All right! take it right out there, where they are hauling sand for grading." The box, about as large as an ordi- nary claret case, was filled, brought to the store, and the dollar was paid. "Now," said the recip- ient, "We'll go and take a drink with this dollar, if you please." His new employer laughingly ac- quiesced, which led to the new comer's employ- ment in the store where his first dollar was earned, until the fire of May 4th, 1851, and a good connection until the present day.
There is a man now in this city who made forty thousand dollars as carrier of the Alta California newspaper; and another who realized thirty thousand dollars carrying the Sacramento Union and San Francisco Evening Bulletin. These cases are personally known to us; and another of a washerwoman, whose earnings, early invested in real estate, give her to-day a property worth $100,000. A magnate in real estate, who may be seen daily on Montgomery street, formerly 12
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peddled potatoes along the same streets where now his own buildings
" Rear their tall arches towering to the sky."
Finding a man engaged in his own trade or profession-the work for which he had been educated-was a rare thing in California. Del- icately nurtured men were doing the work of common laborers. Young students, whose bi- ceps knew only the gymnasium's development, who had handled nothing heavier than a fencing foil, or mottled malacca, grew familiar with the shovel, pick and rocker. San Francisco wrought many anomalous conditions in life. The whilom professor of a Maryland College was a drayman on Pacific Wharf. Graduates of Yale and Har- vard, however they construed Horace or Virgil, were guilty of no false quantities in their sym- posiac compositions. The once wealthy money broker of State street, Boston, chopped wood and tended fires for a baker's oven.
The young lawyer who, from lack of clients, peddled port-monnaies in Marysville, could have lost nothing of his legal acumen in the itinerant departure, as he has since then sat as Associate Judge on the United States Supreme Bench. One of a prominent law firm in San Francisco is no worse an advocate because of his experience as waiter in a popular restaurant.
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Nor do we think that the gentleman who once filled the office of County Recorder, with satisfaction to the citizens and honor to him- self, ever regrets the skill which he, an amateur violinist, acquired during his professional expe- rience, at twenty dollars per diem in one of the temples of chance on the Plaza, in the spring of '50.
Judge , an able jurist, now occupying the bench of an interior district, found him- self in California in 1849, without money, clients, chambers, or a brief. Being something of a gastronomist, he accepted the post of chef in a restaurant. One morning, while engaged in preparing the day's edibles, a stranger looked in at the kitchen door, nodded, and wished the Judge "Good morning !"
" Buenos dias!" said the Judge-everybody attempted a little Spanish in those days-and they were soon in conversation. Everybody was social then-good-natured and happy, be- cause they were prosperous; there's nothing so conducive to good temper and honesty, as pros- perity.
"I've got a case up here in Court," said the stranger, "and I don't know 'zactly what to do about it." "What is the case?" asked the Judge, interested at once. "Tell me the facts."
,
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"Well," said the other, "you see it's just this way. I shipped a lot of goods for this place, and the ship's arrived, and her cargo all dis- charged, and my goods ain't nowhere." "Have you the papers you received from the office where you shipped your goods ?" "Oh, yes, every one of 'em. Here they are." The Judge neglected the chef's duty, and carefully exam- ined the documentary evidence, saying, after a moment's inspection, "You're all right, sir; I can win this case for you." "Oh! you're a lawyer, then ?" "Yes; when does your case come on ?" "In an hour from now." "Well, now listen to me," said the Judge; "you go to the Court at that time, and ask the Court to con- tinue the case until three o'clock this afternoon, as your counsel is unavoidably detained until then. Do you understand?" "All right. I'll do it, and come back to you." In due time the client returned with a favorable report. At three o'clock P. M., the Judge was in Court with his client, and won the case without delay. "What's your fee?" inquired the successful liti- gant, as they adjourned to take a drink. "One hundred dollars!" replied the Judge. The money was cheerfully paid, and the Judge pock- eted his first fee in California. "I beg your pardon," said a man, confronting the Judge, as
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he turned from the bar, after their congratula- tory imbibation, "I was in Court just now when you won that case, and I've got a little suit in the same Court. If you can put it through in the style you did our friend's case this afternoon, you're just the lawyer for my money." They sat down together, and after hearing the new client's case, the Judge took it in charge; was retained to be in Court at ten o'clock next morning, and repairing immediately to his late employer, resigned the position of chef, rented an office, and has since that day confined him- self to the practice or the administration of law.
Geo. - tried his hand at street work in 1849, on Clay street, not as contractor, but in the shovel and pick interest; but one day's labor and one ounce in gold, as remuneration, was quant. suff. for George, who has since that day found more congenial employment as con- veyancer, notary, broker, etc. We will tell why he came to leave street-work so abruptly, as an illustration of the quick transitions in San Francisco life in the spring of '50. As he was digging away, earning his "ounce," two men met close by and commenced conversation, but could not fully understand each other, as one spoke nothing but English, while the other was
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a Frenchman, comprehending only a few words of English. George, seeing the situa- tion, very kindly explained the Frenchman's meaning. "What do you know about it?" abruptly inquired one of them-we needn't say it was not the citizen of the most courteous of nations. "Simply that I am a French scholar," said George. "Oh, ho!" answered the brusque
individual. "What the d-l are you digging
there for ?'' "One ounce a day," said our hero. "Then come out of it. I want you to make translations for me, on better pay." The bar- gain was made instanter, and George closed his street-grading interest that same evening, and commenced work on translations the next morn- ing. This transition led to a connection and clientage among our French citizens, which our friend has retained until the present day.
One of the largest commission houses in San Francisco became bankrupt in a singular way- what might be termed retributive justice-the romance of commerce.
The firm had nearly all the English commis- sion business in San Francisco, and among their account-current charges always put "Insurance ten per cent.," which was a myth-not the ten per cent !- that was solid coin in the firm's cof-
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fers-but the "insurance" on shipments-they never had a dollar insurance! One morning the fire swept everything, and the shippers said, "Pay us the insurance on our lost goods!" and the house was obliged to pay. It not only broke the firm, pecuniarily, but broke their hearts; they never rallied.
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CHAPTER XIX.
GEORGE HYDE, EsQ., the second Alcalde of San Francisco, arrived at Monterey on the U. S. frig- ate Congress, as Commodore Stockton's private secretary, on the 15th of July, 1846, and has been a resident of this State ever since that day. Judge Hyde is a Philadelphian; a gentleman of studious habits, refined tastes, and very reticent manners. No man who has ever occupied such a prominent place in San Francisco is less known by the public of to-day. The "Annals of San Francisco" makes no honorable mention of his name; but "thereby hangs a tale." In the
spring of '50, Alcalde Hyde's office was on Clay street, near the Plaza. In the early days of '48 and ' 49 the Judge resided on Clay street, near Dupont, occupying the house since known as the " Sazerac," and kept by Mr. Samuel Gard- ner. After that time the Judge resided on Broadway, from whence he removed to the grassy lot near the junction of Post, Market and Montgomery streets, an enclosure of con-
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siderable size, half garden, half lawn; the house, a large, square, old-fashioned wooden building, ยท considered quite out of town until '53-'54. Barry Hyde, the Judge's only son, is Alcalde of a Lower California pueblo at the present time.
Peter Toft arrived in California on the U. S. ship Ohio, Commodore Ap. Catesby Jones. Toft shipped as a common sailor, with a very slight knowledge of the English language, although a master of Greek, Latin and several modern languages. Toft's deportment and studious habits attracted the attention of Commodore Jones, who allowed him books from the library, and Toft was nearly a master of English on his arrival in California. His experience has been varied in our State: a miner, a painter, draughtsman, writer for newspapers, magazines, theatres, etc .; a traveler and naturalist; ever industrious, obliging and amiable; by birth a Dane, by adoption an American citizen. Mr. Toft has been in London for the last two or three years, engaged in painting and literary pursuits, but we hope for his return to San Francisco during this year.
James Nelson was agent for the pilots in '50, and was engaged in lightering ships and coal-
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ing steamboats for Charles Minturn. Mr. Nel- son lived on board the storeship Resoluta, which used to lay off Cunningham's Wharf. Mr. Nel- . son was a very liberal, kind man, and assisted many to good fortune. B. M. Hartshorne was a partner of Mr. Nelson, and also lived on board the Resoluta. For a score of years Mr. Harts- horne has.endeavored to make everybody be- lieve that he is an unamiable, gruff, taciturn, morose individual; but his brusque manner has availed him nothing. We know his kind heart and his many charitable deeds. He is a hypo- crite turned inside out-one of the best of men; ever shunning thanks and gratitude. Mr. Harts- horne was for many years president of the Cal. Steam Navigation Co.
J. & M. Phelan were wholesale liquor-dealers on Jackson street, north side, on the spot where so many circus troupes have shown in years gone by. The store then occupied by the Phelan brothers was a very large wooden struc- ture, just such as we see now-a-days erected to protect stone- dressers engaged in the work for some public building-a big shed, with doors. Being down in a hollow, it was found necessary, after a heavy rain, to lay planks upon supports, to enable the visitor to reach the store dryshod ;
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and inside, similar means were used to get around among the stacks of casks and packages com- posing the firm's stock in trade, which was always large and valuable, the firm being one of the most successful in that line of busi- ness in San Francisco. J. Phelan is still living, but his brother died many years ago.
Bingham, Reynolds & Bartlett were on the corner of Broadway and Sansome, in a three or four story wooden building, we forget which; but in our memory the store was a tall, dusty-brown building. They did a thriving business in the spring of '50. Messrs. Bingham and Bartlett are both dead. Of Mr. Reynolds we do not know. Mr. Bingham was for many years, sub- sequent to the dissolution of the firm, in the City Clerk's office, in the City Hall, which post he occupied until his death. He was a faithful officer and a good man.
Mr. MeShane, the manager of the Occidental Hotel for the last few years, was with W. T. Coleman & Co., in the same block with Bing- ham, Reynolds & Bartlett. Mr. Beideman, of " Beideman's Tract," used to be often in this neighborhood. He and John Piper were inter- ested, either in business or outside lands, with
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Samuel Fleishhacker, who, after the fire of May, '51, occupied a store on Pacific street, next to the southeast corner of Pacific and Sansome.
Tim. Burnham, formerly purser's clerk in the U. S. Navy, had a butcher's shop on the north side of Pacific wharf, near the store-ship Arkan- sas. Mr. Burnham was an accomplished ama- teur vocalist, and with Jas. Gamble and Charley Yeemans, used to sing in the choir of the Rev. Albert Williams' church. They made no pre- tensions as vocalists, but their voices harmo- nized perfectly, and, singing so frequently to- gether, produced the most charming effect. Mr. Burnham returned to his old profession in the U. S. navy, died, and was buried at sea. Mr. Yeemans was for many years since then on the Petaluma steamer. We think that Mr. Gamble is in business in Newark, N. J. Even the mem- ory of this trio's harmony is delightful. Chance brings together such voices-three of the great- est singers in the world might as vainly essay such harmony, as an ordinary voice to sing like the divine Parepa. The "Amphion Quartette" of to-day are the best harmonized male voices in the city, since Burnham, Gamble and Yeemans sang together.
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O. Livermore was a rosy-cheeked boy, in the store of Wm. T. Coleman & Co., twenty-two or twenty-three years ago. Ready, willing, quick and good-natured, he became a favorite with his employers, and the up-river merchants trading with them, who were not few in those days. He rose to a position of trust and importance. For many years after leaving W. T. C. & Co's house, he was in the employ of Pioche, Bay- erque & Co., in a very confidential position. His strict business integrity has placed him in charge of valuable estates, seldom entrusted to so young an agent. We sincerely hope that twenty-three years hence may find him as hale and useful as to-day.
In the same block with W. T. Coleman & Co's store, nearer to Pacific street, on the west side of Sansome, was the store of DeWitt & Har- rison, one of the oldest firms in San Francisco established prior to the gold discovery. Alfred DeWitt and Henry A. Harrison were the mem- bers of the firm at that time. Since then the house has conducted business under the firm name of DeWitt, Kittle & Co., and now as Kittle & Co.
Mr. Kittle was a clerk for DeWitt & Harrison in 1850. W. T. Hoffman and young Twiggs- we forget his given name, he was always called
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General Twiggs-were clerks in the same house. Case, Heiser & Co. and Florence Mahoney were in business in this same block. All of them are long since dead, and nothing but good is remembered of them. Ripley & McCullough were on the Pacific street corner of the same block, and were agents for the sale of the famous Mccullough Shot. Mr. Ripley was killed by the explosion on board the Jenny Lind; and his wife and little daughter, who had just arrived in California, perished with him. Mr. Mccullough has since been a banker in Virginia City, Nevada, for many years. Wm. M. Tileston had a portion of Ripley & Mccullough's store, in May, 1851. Mr. Tileston was a brother of Tileston, of the firm of Spofford & Tileston, New York City.
Henry Mellen was a boy in W. T. Coleman & Co's store on Sansome street, and grew to man- hood in their employ, serving them long and faithfully. He left the house to join the army, where he served his country with the same fidelity which distinguished his mercantile career. He is now a retired officer, having lost both of his feet in the service of his country.
Dore & Ross were on Sansome street, next to the southeast corner of Pacific, in May, '51, as
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importers and dealers in brandies and wines. Mr. Ross died many years since. He was a kind, honest, noble-hearted Irishman. Maurice Dore, of the old firm, is now the most prominent real- estate operator in San Francisco. Barry & Pat- ten were on the southeast corner of Sansome and Pacific.
The conflagration of Sunday morning, June 22d, 1851, was stopped at this corner by nailing blankets on the front of the building, and keep- ing them saturated with water. Dewitt & Har- rison's store, on the west side of Sansome, north of Pacific, was saved by blankets, on which was poured 80,000 gallons of vinegar.
A little way around the corner of Sansome, on Broadway, towards Battery street, was the grocery of Wm. H. Towne. We have never seen or heard of him since the summer of '50, hav- ing no occasion to be in that vicinity, subse- quent to one day in June, when we were in his store awhile. But we remember him as being so very unlike the majority of bustling, excited, noisy and abrupt storekeepers of that strange, golden time-a pale, quiet man, with a soft voice, and a smile sweet as a woman's; a man suggesting the painter, the poet, the musician; with thoughts like Schubert's-anything but a grocer. We remember the peculiarity of his
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complexion; golden-red hair, singularly black eyes, and a delicate, pale face. We did not oc- cupy ten minutes in our business conversation, and have never met since that day in June, twenty-three years ago; but his face is retained in our memory, curiously vivid, and oftentimes returning through all these years-an unac- countable mnemonic vagary.
Towards noon, on the day of the fire, after the flames were well subdued, a sailor lad from a French ship in the harbor was going up the hill on Pacific street, half way between Sansome and Montgomery, looking at the destruction on either side, when the idea occurred to him to light his pipe. Stooping down, he was endeav- oring to scoop up a little burning coal with the bowl of his pipe, when some one of a crowd, passing at the moment, cried "Incen- diary! incendiary!" With one impulse the men rushed at him, knocked him down, and almost instantly kicked the poor, innocent lad to death, and walked away, leaving the lifeless body lying in the street, mutilated past recog- nition. A moment before he had passed up the wharf in the health and hope of youth, his sunburnt cheek, bright eye and waving hair giving full promise of longevity. Walking on with childish curiosity-his first footsteps in a
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strange land-such a little way, ending in dreadful death.
The men who committed the terrible deed passed on, perhaps not realizing he was dead- not caring. They thought him an incendiary, worthy of death, and acted out the exaspera- tion which filled the hearts of men suffering from repeated conflagrations.
No inquiry was made, for it was useless, and the tragic incident, with its victim, was soon forgotten; but it was a sickening illustration of the fact that chance is sometimes so dreadfully potent.
13
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CHAPTER XX.
THE clerks of a banking-house on Montgom- ery street, in the days when pans of gold-dust were standing on every counter in the business houses, had been greatly troubled with the gold- dust account. It would not balance-varying from thirty to sixty dollars every day. Every care was taken with it, but to no avail. Ben Smith, who had puzzled in vain over the books, concluded to look outside of them for a solu- tion. For three successive days he weighed the dust with his own hands, placed it in the accus- tomed spot, and sat down in a hiding-place to watch. Every morning, soon after the trap was laid, a highly respectable man, a partic- ular friend of the head of the house, came in, as usual, stood about awhile, passed the usual greetings, sauntered up to the pan, as was his habit for months, carefully examined the contents, rubbed it in his hands, dropped it out into the pan with a flourish, slapped his hands together, and walked to the door, stood for a
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moment, and then passed out. Soon as he had gone, Ben reweighed the dust, and found it several ounces short. This programme was re- peated by both actors in the little comedy for three successive days. Perfectly satisfied, the clerk communicated with the banker. "Oh, there must be some mistake-some misappre- hension-or perhaps a joke on one of his old friends," was the banker's exclamation. "The joke is a queer one to carry on so long," said Benjamin, proposing that the head of the house should take the "look-out's" chair, and watch the game himself. Reluctantly, he consented to spy upon his friend, and was convinced after watching two or three days, and seeing the gold- dust weighed immediately after his old friend's manipulation and departure. After this, he was forced to admit, much to every employee's relief, that the mystery was solved. The de- ficit for all the past months was promptly paid by the gentlemanly kleptomaniac, whose curi- osity upon the subject of oro en polvo, as far as that particular bank was concerned, ceased from that moment.
Leonard Rowell, assistant superintendent of Wells, Fargo & Co's Express Department in San Francisco, arrived in San Francisco on the first
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of September, 1849, on the barque Drummond. Mr. Rowell, with Will Gay, a fellow passenger, landed at the corner of Central Wharf (now Commercial street) and Leidesdorff street, in- quiring of the first person they met for the store of Lovering & Gay, Mr. Gay of that firm being a brother of Mr. Rowell's fellow - passenger. They soon found the store, which was on Mont- gomery street, just north of Central Wharf, and before they had been ten minutes in conversa- tion, Mr. G. H. Howard came in and remarked to Mr. Charles Gay, that he wished a clerk to take account of the lumber about to be dis- charged from the brig Belfast, then lying in the stream. Mr. Gay turned to Mr. Rowell, and asked if he cared for the opportunity, when it was accepted at once most cheerfully, and Mr. Rowell commenced his business career in Cali- fornia within a half hour after his arrival, has continued it up to the present time, and is still employed. After the brig Belfast operation, at wages which nearly took his breath away, and board thrown in on the brig, tambien, he found employment of various kinds until he entered the office of Gregory's Express Co., then Adams & Co's Express; then in the office of the company where he now is, and where he has so long and competently discharged his various official duties.
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