CHAPTER XI.

San Francisco of the Past

The story of San Francisco's history and tragedy appeal with
extraordinary force to the imagination of all civilized men. For several
generations the city was looked upon as an Arabian Night's dream--a
place where gold lay in the streets and joy and happiness were
unlimited. Its settlement, or, rather, its real rise as a city, was as
by magic. It was first a city of tents, of shanties, of "shacks," lying
on the rim of a great, spacious bay. Ships of all sizes and rigs brought
gold-seekers and provisions from the East, all the way round Cape Horn,
after voyages of weary months, and at San Francisco their crews deserted
and hundreds of these craft were left at their moorings to rot. Ashore
was a riot of money, prodigious extravagance, mean, shabby appointments,
sudden riches, great disappointment, revelry, improvidence and suicide.

The streets that now lay squares from the water were then at the water's
edge and batteaus brought cargoes ashore. Long wharves--one was for
years called the Long Wharf even after there were others built much
longer--led out over the shallow water. These shallows were later filled
and streets built upon them, and upon them arose warehouses, hotels,
factories, lodging houses and business places.

The city grew rapidly in the direction away from the bay. But in its
early days it was a city with no confidence in its own stability, and
its buildings were accordingly unstable. A few minor earthquakes shook
some of these down years ago and established in the minds of the people
a horror of earthquakes. Frame houses became the rule.

In its ensuing life San Francisco developed the attributes of a city of
gayety tempered by business. The population, for the most part, affected
light-hearted scorn of money, or, rather, of saving money. It made
mirth of life, habituated itself to expect windfalls such as miners
and prospectors dream of, developed a moderate amount of business, and
enjoyed the day while there was sunlight and the night when there was
artificial light. The windfalls grew less frequent, mining became a
costly and scientific process, and agriculture succeeded it. But, though
it was only necessary to tickle the land with a hoe and pour water upon
the tickled spot, to have it laugh with two, three or even four harvests
a year, agriculturists continued scarce. The Chinese truck farms, some
of which lay within the city's lines, supplied the small fr