SAN FRANCISCO.

Grey River Argus, Volume IX, Issue 741, 18 October 1870, Page 2

SAN FRANCISCO.

[by a keoent visitor.] domestic life. Living in San Fratnisco is very exper.sive. In inaktug this statement lam thinking of home life, such as you meet with in England and the colonies, rather than of the life which families live in America. House rents are high, taxes enormous, and servants' wages considerable. An ordinary house in an ordiuary street — a house with four bed-rooms, dining-room, sitting-room, and basement stovay, composed of a kitchen and ita ao-companunents-Mtyiug, let us say, away up in Geary street, which is by no means an aristocratic street, will fetch from L 22 to L 25 a month rental, unfurnished. Then there are taxes innumerable — school taxes, water taxes, gas taxes, and taxes for the keeping of streets and pavements iv repair, which, by the bye, are never kept in repair ; figuring up some twelve pounds or more a month. Four hundred and fifty pounds a year, seems a largo rental for such a house as this. It is true that of late years, since the opening of the great Pacific Railway at least, prices have fallen, approximating now to those that obtain in the colonies. Boots and shoes are no lower in Dunedin, groceries no cheaper there, butcher bills no different, or but little different ; clothes, indeed, are more expensive, one- third more expensive at least. The opening up of this railway, and the intercourse which had arisen between San Francisco and the great cities of the interior and of the Atlantic, have made too the home life of California, much more comfortable. They have not lowered the wages of your female servant, indeed, not to auy great extent at least ; but they have lowered her aristocratic pretensions. She now condescends to serve you for L 5 a month, and is satisfied with two or three evenings in the week, instead of seven, as formerly. She condescends, too, to stay in the same house with " little, Johny," the Chineseboy, drawing largely on his good nature indeed, but hating him the while. Not that her

hatred is altogether unnatural. In every house in San Francisco a part of her work, sometimes the whole of it, is being done by these boys. She knows that seven thousand and more of these youngsters are employed in the city as domestic servants, elbowing herself and her class out of their proper spheres of life. Clean in dress, honest in look, smiling in countenance, the Chinese lad opens the hall door to your knock, meets you in the street looking after the children, catches your eye cleaning the window, sweeping the door flags, scrubbing the hall, or watering the flowers and trees. The children love him, for he is kind to them ; the mistress of the house speaks kindly of him, for he is docile, obedient, and respectful to her. Quietness, soberness, docility, and thrift, the characteristics of his race, are acquiring for him the respect of all respectable men on this Pacific coast ; acquiring for him, too, employment, in every capacity, throughout the States. In the households and the factories, in the stores and the banks, on the farms, the railroads, the sheep and cattle ranches — wherever you go, in fact, along the Pacific slope — you will find Chinamen employed in considerable numbers. The Chinese women in the State, and cities of the State — more particularly in San Francisco and Sacramento — are numerous ; but, strange to say, I have never seen one of them employed as a female servant, or engaged at any kind of menial occupation. They are an immoral lot, living, for the most part, lives of open, shameless immorality. But though house rents in San Francisco are very high, the comforts and luxuries of these houses are very pleasant. The rooms are large and lofty, the furniture rich and massive. Every bedroom has its bathroom attached : every bath and every washing basin is supplied with hot and cold water. Then, too, there are hooks and shelves and closets, lying about in every direction, stowed away out of sight, and never to be seen unless you want to see them. The Americans are very neat in their ways, their habits, their dres3, but this neatness is specially observable in their houses. There are no special show-rooms in the house, for the whole of it is a showroom, as far as neatness and order are concerned. If you dive down suddenly into the kitchen, during any hour of the day, you will find it swept and garnished, sweet and wholesome. You will find the tables and chairs in their proper places, the matting dustless, the saucepans and kettles clean and bright, the stove shining and polished. Before entering the doorway of the place, you instinctively remove your hat from off your head, and shake the dirt from your feet. But, seeking after comfort as they do, and loving cleanliness in their heart of hearts, it is strange to see how oblivious they are, as a people, about many things which we consider necessaries of life. The salt is laid on the table, the butter placed before you at meal time 3 ; but the salt is without a salt-spoon, the butter has no butter-knife. If you wish to help yourself to one or the other you must simply do so as besc you can. Now to do this after other people is not a very pleasant thing at any time, but out here it sometimes becomes very unpleasant indeed. Some time since, I was travelling by steamer from San Francisco to Los Angeles, lying away down in the extreme southern extremity of California, close by the borders of Mexico. There was a lady on board, old and stricken in years, but chatty and pleasant. The first day she did not come down to dinner. 1 was rejoiced to see her the second day sitting opposite to me at table. I bent across to speak to her, but never a word did I speak. Vaxfcuicibushaesit. The soup had just been placed on the table, and positively the old lady was drinking hers with her knife. [ had heard of such a thing being done before, but I had never seen it. The operation was now being performed before me, and performed with .considerable dexterity too. Backwards and forwards, hither and thithe, between her mouth and her plate, this old lady's knife" flashed quickly. There was a continuous stream of soup between the two. A flash barman from the Grand, the Occidental, the Russ House, from one of the thousand and odd saloons of San Francisco, had he been by, would have watched the performance with envious eyes ; for cunning as might be his hand in the mixture of sling 3 and cocktails, smashes and eye-openers, he could never hope to rival the old lady's precision. She never missed her aim. As I have already stated, I never saw any performance of this kind before in the country, neither have I witnessed any similar one since, but I have come across men, women, and children, who ignore their folks altogether when eating peas and other vegetables. Bear in mind, however, these people do not belong to the higher order of Americana. But about this matter of expense, as to living in San Francisco. Well, theo, a moderate family — moderate in habits as well as in size — accustomed to scrape and save so as to make both ends meet at the termination of the year, cannot live out here on less than six hundred a year. But such a household as this, if they wish to have about them the ordinary comforts of life, cannot do so under nine hundred a year. This estimate, too, is drawn with a moderate hand, nor does it take note of that luxurious, ostentatious city life, the cost of which must be something enormous. In company with a friend from Salt Lake City, 1 went once to dine with a gentleman in this city, a banker in San Francisco. He drove us to his country residence in his trap and three "span " of trotting horses. Once during the journey this team was changed at his own private stage, and the entire distance of twenty miles was got over in an hour and twenty minutes. I cannot, for obvious reasons, say much about his house or his household ; but there is no impropriety in saying that the whole establishment, both within and without, was conducted in a style that was truly princely. There were ; upwards of seventy bedrooms in that i house, besides sitting-rooms, billiard- i rooms, and smoking-rooms. Thirty j "span"— ~a "span" is the American for J pair of horses — stood in the stables, and j the retinue of servants seemed never end- i ing. This, it is true, is the great show i place of the State, ita owner one of the j great millionaires of the land — a man who" i can well afford his sumptuous living, his f purple and line linen. But San Francisco i is, in every sense of the word, a fast city, f Money is quickly made in it, and just as \ quickly spent. Its people, as a rule, have 1 no children to provide for, and they never ' think of providing for themselves. They ( eat, drink, and make merry. They strive a

to make money, indeed, but they strive because of the position money gives them and the amount of pleasure it places within their reach. But, though San Francisco is a fast city and an expensive place for a family to reside in, a single man acquainted with it and its ways, one who has got the " inner track " of things, as they would term it in California, can live here as economically as he can in most other cities with which I am acquainted. A good room, decently furnished, supplied with tire, gas, and probably wifch a bath, also, can be had at prices varying from two to four pounds a month, according to localitp. Then a breakfast and dinner at Swain's will cost about Is 6d each. I have said nothing about luncheon. The luncheons of. San Francisco are not to be spoken of lightly, or referred to in a casual way. From twelve o'clock until half-past two you can have your luncheon in any saloon you choose to patronise. You are served with soup, fish — salmon, if you prefer it — roast or boiled meat, and vegetables ; generally with cheese, too— sometimes with fruit as well ; washing it all down with a glass of good English ale, or with some American drink, if you like that better. And for all this— the drinking as well as the eating, mark — you pay a "bit,"or6d. You need go to no low-pot-house or rowdy bar-house to get this luncheon. Why, yon can get in the Merchants' Exchange itself, where you are surrounded by the wealthy merchants of the city, and are jostled by the millionaires of the land. But you must take the meal standing. No chair, no seat, no resting-place of any kind is provided. Of course these meals never pay ; but they bring extra custom to the bars, and the extra drinks that are taken make the luncheons profitable. The people of San Francisco are always spoken of as being courteous, and much given to hospitality. This is so, and it is not. Kind and courteous to a stranger they certainly are, and much given to hospitality they are, too ; but this hospitality does not come easily in one's way. Something more than a mere passing acquaintanceship is required — something more than a mere formal letter of introduction necessary. How, indeed, could it be otherwise ? Sharpers, adventurers, and profligates ; some of them prepossessing in their manner and agreeable in their conversation, have been flocking in hither to this Pacific slope from every known quarter of the habitable globe, since the day that James Marshall discovered yon shining speck of gold in Suter's mill-race away up in the Colomo Valley, until the present time. The people are obliged to be cautious and reserved, and they are both. They will meet you indeed with courtesy and politeness ; but there is no warmth or cordiality in their manners. Before you darken the door of a man's house, are invited to dine at his table, or make the acquaintance of his wife, you muat undergo a period of probation- a sort of social quarantine, If I may so term it. But go through this satisfactorily, and there is nothing too good for you thenceforward. In his warm hospitality and largeness of heart, your Californian friend beats even an Irishman, and that is saying a great deal for him. But a mistrusting of strangers is a marked characteristic of the people. You will find it in California, in Oregon, in Nevada, Utah, wherever you go in fact, but particularly will it strike you in California and Utah. . '■; A stranger ' visiting this country will find every day, and every hour of the day, something to attiuct his attention and call forth his admiration, but the morality of the people will raise them but little in his estimation. To all good folks, there is a sweetness as of music in the merry voices of little children. But out here, in San Francisco, these voices are seldom heard, their mirth and laughter unfamiliar sounds — for their numbers are few, and their increase imperceptible. Why is this? Well, an understanding exists throughout the country, an unuatural understanding tacitly entered into between husbands and wives, that no large families shall burthen their Uvea. The theory and practice of Paris, of Venice, and of New York, are thoroughly understood in this city. Sitting one evening, in company with many others, around the hospitable board of a Californian friend, the subject came qp for dis* cussion over our cigars, "We in the colonies," I said, in answer to a question addressed to me, " take a pride in our children. Every house is full of them, every marriage adds to their number." "Well," answered the host, "I guess, one or two children in a household do help to brighten it up a bit; but it's a mistake, I think, to go beyond two. The comforts of home are destroyed, and the youngsters themselves neglected, when there are many of them to the fore." I suggested that marriage, was a divine institution, and with. ths command to increase, and multiply accom* panying it came no words as to limitation. "Yes, that's so sir," observed a gentleman sitting by me, " but [ guess that command was given to the world when the world was young, and the earth required to be filled up fast. With us things are different. This country is filling up fast enough, and requires no assistance from us in that wa,y, As. a people we like to enjoy ourselves, but enjoyment and many children are nob compatible, and so we take care not to have too many." In effect, if not in words, this was the conversation that passed, and I give it as an illustration of theway in which Americans strive t o justify themselves. Marriage is becoming a mere matter of convenience in the country. Punch's definition of marriage, a3 "taking in ayauna woman to board and lodgo,'' accurately describes ita present condition in San Francisco. The landlady of the house in which I have been lately lodging, a bright cheerful and religious woman, but bent in. figure and with hair prematurely grey, has given us— myself and a fellow lodger, dso from New Zealand — a chapter of l\es history. Some sue or se,yen y?ars ; ago, i^ seems, ghe fell In, lqve with a, young stored man. H§ was a good looking fellqw, to judge from that likeness, of his which hangs iv my room, and soon gained the girl's affection. Shortly afterwards they were, married, and for two years and a little more lived happily together. Then the poor woman's happiness ceased. She met with an accident, and her husband forsook her for another. Close by this very street, and not three dozen strides from the doorway, he took up his abode with his companion. "More than once he has asked me for a divorce," she said, "but I have told him that whomsoever God has joined together, let no man put asunder. I have told him, too, his hou^e

is in this hou3e, and that he will find me here whan he repents of his wickedness." She paused and turned aside her head. My friend and myself tried to console her, but we gave no expression to the indignation that was in us. " Maggie too," she added, turning round and again facing us, " has her own Bhare of unhapf'.ness to bear." Maggie, it may be added, was the housemaid, who, having placed some tumblers on the table, had just left the room. " Twelve months after she was married, her husband left her— left her too with a young baby to provide for." "Are things so very bad then, in the city V asked my New Zealand friend. "My ! Just wait until you know San Francisco better. You bet it just is bad — real bad* Hundreds and hundreds of women are no better off than ' Maggie and myself ; not that the women, indeed, are any better than they should be. Why, where do you think they get their fine dresses from? not from their husbands, for their husbands can't afford to give them such expensive things. No, they just get them from their young men. Yes, the bad ones prosper out here. You would scarcely believe," she continued recurring to the subject which naturally occupied her mind, "that this woman who lives with my husband has a good place down there in the Mint ?'' A short time since I was spending an ho\ir ot two "with an acquaintance of mine — a "roomer" in an adjoining street. A lodger, I may explain, is called a " roomer." We sat by the open window^ enjoying our cigars in the gloaming, looking out on the street from which the current traffic was fast passing away. We were about to shut the windows and light the gas, when a woman ascended the steps and knocked at the hall door. My attention wa3 attracted by the sweetness of her face and gracefulness of her movements, but still more by the absence of that hideous disfigurement which all American women patronise, I mean the Grecian, bend. " Who ia she," I asked. My acquaintance told me her name, and her story. A lady by birth and education, young and good-looking, some few years since she had married a doctor, a man much older than herself, but with a good practice in the city. He soon became indifferent, and often for days and sometimes weeks never came near his wife, leaving her by herself in these dreary lodgings. This was bad enough, but she had worse to endure. She had to sew and mend her clothes when they became threadbare, for no money was -given her to buy new ones, and credit is unknown in California. She had to wash and iron, for her husband refused to pay a washerwoman's bill. She had to keep body and soultoget ■>;•• as best she could, and. to do it with iw o shillings a day, which was all she b;vl allowed her for her maintenance, <: She's mi angel, she is," said my acquaintance, in concluding his narrative ; t; but as for him, I'd like to give him H— l." " But women are no better than they should be." The words are my landlady's, not mine ; but I believe them to be perfectly true. The Revolution lies before me on the table as I write. The Revolution is a newspaper edited by Mrs Elizabeth Cady Stauntoa — a clever woman, and, as I am told, a moral woman too. It is "run" by women, for women, and its "running" is a trade success ; for its lady subscribers are numerous in every State of the Union. In the issue before me there is a manifesto issued by the managing committee of the Women's Bights Movement, and addressed to the married women of America 5 but the document is too long a one to insert in this letter. The purport of it, however, is that children should be paid for according to a fixed scale of charges, and that unless this payment is guaranteed beforehand, no wife ought ever to become a mother. The charges fixed upon are ; — For a female child, 200 dollars j for a male child, 400 dollars ; for twin female children, 800 dollars ; for twin male children, 3200 dollars j for female triplets. 1600 dollars ; for male triplets, 2000 dollars. The thing is laughable ; but it is very sad too. It ia aad to see women throwing aside their modesty in this way. But this laxity in morals, this vice and unhappiness in domestic life, to what are they attributable ? Such things as these oannot exist without some adequate cause. The following extract from a San Francisco paper will give yon a clearer insight into the matter than I oould do by any words of mine : — t "Flirtations of married women. It sounds bad, doesn't it ? and we wish we could say it was confined to any class or section of the community. Bat this is not so. Wemen who are refined, educated, and wealthy, blessed with comfortable homes and ittractive husbonds, are continually talked about in connection with ■ame flirtation or another, scandalous, or at least ariminally imprudent. Is it an infatuation ? Is it natural, moral depravity—a lack of those good principles which ought to be instilled in every woman by the precepts of Christianity — that women part thus lightly with their good names ? wives, too, who seem to forget that A wife suspeoted is a wife disgraced' It ia not love that causes these fool scan-

(For continuation of News see 4th Pmje.)

dais amongst us, for love is honest. It is selfishness, vanity, a love of admiration — a sort of gambling, as it were, with one's reputation and character as the stakes. Husbands, wrapped up in the cares and anxities of business, leave their wives alone in hotels and fashionable boarding houses, with nothing to employ their time or occupy their thoughts, except perhaps dressing, dinner, and visiting. Other men tell them they are pretty, make themselves amiable, meet them in the streets, and take them to the opera. Then, not without reason, men talk about woman, God help her." The doctors and quacks, whose mysteriously worded advertisments fill the daily papers of the city, could give you an insight into the inner life of this place, such as would make one's hair stand on end. San Francisco is, in many ways, a very pleasant city to live in ; its climate is very delightful, its people are light hearted and when you know them, much given to hospitality, but it does not set itself up as a moral place. The Chinese qnarter of San Francisco, itsDupont and Stockton streets also, are to be met with, in one form or another, wherever you go. It would be manifestly unfair then to cast these places in its teeth. But it is not unfair to refer to the Bella Union Theatre and the Pacific Theatre, for the immoral acting and lascivious dancing carried on in both these houses of entertainment, every evening, but particularly on Sunday evenings, are not often to be met with in the course of a 'man's lifetime. It is not unfair to refer to its hundreds of Lager Beer Saloons, for immorality of the grossest kind is their chief object of attraction. But woe to the man who dives down into one of these saloons, for it is just as likely as not he may ne ver return alive. Rowdies, revolvers, and bowie-knives, are to be met with down there in any quantity.