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Sixty Years in Southern California, 1853-1913. Harris Newmark
Читать онлайн.Название Sixty Years in Southern California, 1853-1913
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isbn 4064066235499
Автор произведения Harris Newmark
Жанр Языкознание
Издательство Bookwire
During my short stay in San Francisco, before leaving for Los Angeles, I made the usual rounds under the guidance of Jacob Rich. Having just arrived from the tropics, I was not provided with an overcoat; and since the air was chilly at night, my host, who wore a talma or large cape, lent me a shawl, shawls then being more used than they are now. Rich took me to a concert that was held in a one-story wooden shack, whereat I was much amazed; and afterward we visited a number of places of louder revelry. Just as I found it to be a few days later in Los Angeles, so San Francisco was filled with saloons and gambling-houses; and these institutions were in such contrast to the features of European life to which I had been accustomed, that they made a strong impression upon me. There were no restrictions of any sort, not even including a legal limit to their number, and people engaged in these enterprises because, in all probability, they were the most profitable. Such resorts attracted criminals, or developed in certain persons latent propensities to wrong-doing, and perhaps it is no wonder that Walker, but the summer previous, should have selected San Francisco as headquarters for his filibustering expedition to Lower California. By far the most talked-of man of that day was Harry Meiggs—popularly known as "Honest Harry"—who was engaged in various enterprises, and was a good patron of civic and church endeavor. He was evidently the advance guard of the boomer organization, and built the Long Wharf at North Beach, on a spot now at Commercial and Montgomery streets, where later the Australian convict, trying to steal a safe, was captured by the First Vigilance Committee; and so much was Meiggs the envy of the less pyrotechnical though more substantial people, that I repeatedly had my attention called, during my brief stay in San Francisco, to what was looked upon as his prodigious prosperity. But Meiggs, useful as he was to the society of his day, finally ended his career by forging a lot of city scrip (a great deal of which he sold to W. T. Sherman and his banking associates), and by absconding to Peru, where he became prominent as a banker and a developer of mines.
Situated at the Plaza—where, but three years before, on the admission of California as a State, the meeting of gold-seeking pioneers and lassoing natives had been symbolized with streaming banners, and the thirty-one stars were nailed to a rude pole—was the El Dorado, the most luxurious gambling-place and saloon in the West, despite the existence near by of the Bella Union, the Parker House and the Empire. Music, particularly native Spanish or Mexican airs, played its part there, as well as other attractions; and much of the life of the throbbing town centered in that locality. It is my impression that the water front was then Sansome Street; and if this be correct, it will afford some idea of the large territory in San Francisco that is made ground.
As there was then no stage line between San Francisco and the South, I was compelled to continue my journey by sea; and on the morning of October 18th, I boarded the steamer Goliah—whose Captain was Salisbury Haley, formerly a surveyor from Santa Bárbara—bound for Los Angeles, and advertised to stop at Monterey, San Luis Obispo, Santa Bárbara and one or two other landings formerly of importance but now more or less forgotten. There were no wharves at any of those places; passengers and freight were taken ashore in small boats; and when they approached shallow water, everything was carried to dry land by the sailors. This performance gave rise, at times, to most annoying situations; boats would capsize and empty their passengers into the water, creating a merriment enjoyed more by those who were secure than by the victims themselves. On October 21st we arrived a mile or so off San Pedro, and were disembarked in the manner above described, having luckily suffered no such mishap as that which befell passengers on the steamship Winfield Scott who, journeying from Panamá but a month or so later, at midnight struck one of the Anacapa Islands, now belonging to Ventura County, running dead on to the rocks. The vessel in time was smashed to pieces, and the passengers, several hundred in number, were forced to camp on the island for a week or more.
Almost from the time of the first visit of a steamer to San Pedro, the Gold Hunter (a side-wheeler which made the voyage from San Francisco to Mazatlán in 1849), and certainly from the day in January of that same year when Temple & Alexander put on their four-wheeled vehicle, costing one thousand dollars and the second in the county, there was competition in transporting passengers to Los Angeles. Phineas Banning, Augustus W. Timms, J. J. Tomlinson, John Goller, David W. Alexander, José Rúbio and B. A. Townsend were among the most enterprising commission men; and their keen rivalry brought about two landings—one controlled by Banning, who had come to Los Angeles in 1851, and the other by Timms, after whom one of the terminals was named. Before I left San Francisco, Rich provided me with a letter of introduction to Banning—who was then known, if I remember aright, as Captain, though later he was called successively Major and General—at the same time stating that this gentleman was a forwarding merchant. Now, in European cities where I had heretofore lived, commission and forwarding merchants were a dignified and, to my way of thinking, an aristocratic class, which centuries of business experience had brought to a genteel perfection; and they would have found themselves entirely out of their element had their operations demanded their sudden translation, in the fifties, to the west coast of America. At any rate, upon arriving at San Pedro I had expected to find a man dressed either in a uniform or a Prince Albert, with a high hat and other appropriate appurtenances, and it is impossible to describe my astonishment when Banning was pointed out to me; for I knew absolutely nothing of the rough methods in vogue on the Pacific Coast. There stood before me a very large, powerful man, coatless and vestless, without necktie or collar, and wearing pantaloons at least six inches too short, a pair of brogans and socks with large holes; while bright-colored suspenders added to the picturesque effect of his costume. It is not my desire to ridicule a gentleman who, during his lifetime, was to be a good, constant friend of mine, but rather to give my readers some idea of life in the West, as well as to present my first impressions of Southern California. The fact of the matter is that Banning, in his own way, was even then such a man of affairs that he had bought, but a few months before, some fifteen wagons and nearly five times as many mules, and had paid almost thirty thousand dollars for them. I at once delivered the letter in which Rich had stated that I had but a smattering of English and that it would be a favor to him if Banning would help me safely on my way to Los Angeles; and Banning, having digested the contents of the communication, looked me over from head to foot, shook hands and, in a stentorian voice—loud enough, I thought, to be heard beyond the hills—good-naturedly called out, "Wie geht's?" After which, leading the way, and shaking hands again, he provided me with a good place on the stage.
Not a minute was lost between the arrival of passengers and the departure of coaches for Los Angeles in the early fifties. The competition referred to developed a racing tendency that was the talk of the pueblo. The company that made the trip in the shortest time usually obtained, through lively betting, the best of advertising and the largest patronage; so that, from the moment of leaving San Pedro until the final arrival in Los Angeles two and a half hours later, we tore along at breakneck speed, over roads slowly traveled, but a few years before, by Stockton's cannon. These roads never having been cared for, and still less inspected, were abominably bad; and I have often wondered that during such contests there were not more accidents. The stages were of the common Western variety, and four to six broncos were always a feature of the equipment. No particular attention had been given to the harness, and everything was more or less primitive. The stage was provided with four rows of seats and each row, as a rule, was occupied by four passengers, the front row including the oft-bibulous driver; and the fare was five dollars.
Soon after leaving San Pedro, we passed thousands of ground squirrels, and never having seen anything of the kind before, I took them for ordinary rats. This was not an attractive discovery; and when later we drove by a number of ranch houses and I saw beef cut into strings and hung up over fences to dry, it looked as though I had landed on another planet. I soon learned that dried beef or, as the natives here called it, carne seca (more generally known, perhaps, at least among frontiersmen, as "jerked" beef or jerky) was an important article