The Belle of the FandangoTHE BELLE OF THE FANDANGO.
THE BELLE OF THE FANDANGO.
The belle of the occasion was a dark-eyed, fierce-looking woman of about six-and-twenty, a half-breed from Santa Barbara. Her features were far from comely, being sharp and uneven; her skin was scarred with fire or small-pox; and her form, though not destitute of a certain grace of style, was too lithe, wiry, and acrobatic to convey any idea of voluptuous attraction. Every motion, every nerve seemed the incarnation of a suppressed vigor; every glance of her fierce, flashing eyes was instinct with untamable passion. She was a mustang in human shape—one that I thought would kick or bite upon very slight provocation. In the matter of dress she was almost Oriental. The richest and most striking colors decorated her, and made a rare accord with her wild and singular physique; a gorgeous silk dress of bright orange, flounced up to the waist; a white bodice, with blood-red ribbons upon each shoulder; a green sash around the waist; an immense gold-cased breast-pin, with diamonds glittering in the centre, the greatest profusion of rings on her fingers, and her ears loaded down with sparklingear-rings; while her heavy black hair was gathered up in a knot behind, and pinned with a gold dagger—all being in strict keeping with her wild, dashing character, and bearing some remote affinity to a dangerous but royal game-bird. I thought of the Mexican chichilaca as I gazed at her. There was an intensity in the quick flash of her eye which produced a burning sensation wherever it fell. She cast a spell around her not unlike the fascination of a snake. The women shunned and feared her; the men absolutely worshiped at her shrine. Their infatuation was almost incredible. She seemed to have some supernatural capacity for arousing the fiercest passions of love, jealousy, and hatred. Of course there was great rivalry to engage the hand of such a belle for the dance. Crowds of admirers were constantly urging their claims. It was impossible to look upon their excited faces and savage rivalry, knowing the desperate character of the men, without a foreboding of evil.
"Perhaps you will not be surprised," said Jackson, "to hear something strange and startling about that woman. She is a murderess! Not long since she stabbed to death a rival of hers, another half-breed, who had attempted to win the affections of her paramour. But, worse than that—she is strongly suspected of having killed her own child a few months ago, in a fit of jealousy caused by the supposed infidelity of its father—whose identity, however, can not be fixed with any certainty. She is a strange, bad woman—a devil incarnate; yet you see what a spell she casts around her! Some of these men are mad in love with her! They will fight before the evening is over. Yet she is neither pretty nor amiable. I can not account for it. Let me introduce you."
As soon as a pause in the dance occurred I was introduced. The revolting history I had heard of this woman inspired me with a curiosity to know how such a fiend in human shape could exercise such a powerful sway over every man in the room.
Although she spoke but little English, there was a peculiarsweetness in every word she uttered. I thought I could detect something of the secret of her magical powers in her voice, which was the softest and most musical I had ever heard. There was a wild, sweet, almost unearthly cadence in it that vibrated upon the ear like the strains of an Æolian. Added to this, there was a power of alternate ferocity and tenderness in her deep, passionate eyes, that struck to the inner core wherever she fixed her gaze. I could not determine for my life which she resembled most—the untamed mustang, the royal game-bird, or the rattlesnake. There were flitting hints of each in her, and yet the comparison is feeble and inadequate. Sometimes she reminded me of Rachel—then the living, now the dead, Queen of Tragedy. Had it not been for a horror of her repulsive crimes, it is hard to say how far her fascinating powers might have affected me. As it was, I could only wonder whether she was most genius or devil. Not knowing how to dance, I could not offer my services in that way, and, after a few commonplace remarks, withdrew to a seat near the wall. The dance went on with great spirit. Absurd as it may seem, I could not keep my eyes off this woman. Whichever way she looked there was a commotion—a shrinking back among the women, or the symptoms of a jealous rage among the men. For her own sex she manifested an absolute scorn; for the other she had an inexhaustible fund of sweet glances, which each admirer might take to himself.
At a subsequent period of the evening I observed, for the first time, among the company a man of very conspicuous appearance, dressed in the very picturesque style of a Texan Ranger. His face was turned from me when I first saw him, but there was something manly and imposing about his figure and address that attracted my attention. While I was looking toward him he turned to speak to some person near him. My astonishment may well be conceived when I recognized in his strongly-marked features and dejected expression the face of theman "Griff," to whom I was indebted for my escape from the assassins near Soledad! There could be no doubt that this was the outlaw who had rendered me such an inestimable service, differently dressed, indeed, and somewhat disfigured by a ghastly wound across the temple, but still the same; still bearing himself with an air of determination mingled with profound sadness. It was evident the Colonel had misinformed me as to his death. Perhaps, judging from the wound on his temple, which was still unhealed, he might have been left for dead, and subsequently have effected his escape. At all events, there was no doubt that he now stood before me.
I was about to spring forward and grasp him by the hand, when the dreadful scene I had witnessed in the little adobe hut near San Miguel flashed vividly upon my mind, and, for the moment, I felt like one who was paralyzed. That hand might be stained with the blood of the unfortunate emigrants! Who could tell? He had disavowed any participation in the act, but his complicity, either remote or direct, could scarcely be doubted from his own confession. How far his guilt might render him amenable to the laws I could not of course conjecture. It was enough for me, however, that he had saved my life; but I could not take his hand.
While reflecting upon the course that it might become my duty to pursue under the circumstances, I observed that he was not exempt from the fascinating sway of the dark señorita, whose face he regarded with an interest even more intense than that manifested by her other admirers. He was certainly a person calculated to make an impression upon such a woman; yet, strange to say, he was the only man in the crowd toward whom she evinced a spirit of hostility. Several times he went up to her and asked her to dance. Whether from caprice or some more potent cause I could not conjecture, but she invariably repulsed him—once with a degree of asperity that indicated something more than a casual acquaintance. It was in vain he attempted to cajole her.She was evidently bitter and unrelenting in her animosity. At length, incensed at his pertinacity, she turned sharply upon him, and leaning her head close to his ear, whispered something, the effect of which was magical. He staggered back as if stunned, and, gazing a moment at her with an expression of horror, turned away and walked out of the room. The woman's face was a shade paler, but she quickly resumed her usual smile, and otherwise manifested no emotion.
This little incident was probably unnoticed by any except myself. I sat in a recess near the window, and could see all that was going on without attracting attention. I had resolved, after overcoming my first friendly impulses, not to discover myself to the outlaw until the fandango was over, and then determine upon my future course regarding him by the result of a confidential interview. I fully believed that he would tell me the truth, and nothing but the truth, in reference to the murder of the emigrants.
The dance went on. It was a Spanish waltz; the click-clack of the feet, in slow-measured time, was very monotonous, producing a peculiarly dreamy effect. I sometimes closed my eyes and fancied it was all a wild, strange dream. Visions of the beautiful country through which I had passed flitted before me—a country desecrated by the worst passions of human nature. Amid the rarest charms of scenery and climate, what a combination of dark and deadly sins oppressed the mind! What a cess-pool of wickedness was here within these very walls!
Half an hour may have elapsed in this sort of dreaming, when Griff, who had been so strangely repulsed by the dark señorita, came back and pushed his way through the crowd. This time I noticed that his face was flushed, and a gleam of desperation was in his eye. The wound in his temple had a purple hue, and looked as if it might burst out bleeding afresh. His motions were unsteady—he had evidently been drinking. Edging over towardthe woman, he stood watching her till there was a pause in the dance. Her partner was a handsome young Mexican, very gayly dressed, whom I had before noticed, and to whom she now made herself peculiarly fascinating. She smiled when he spoke; laughed very musically at every thing he said; leaned up toward him, and assumed a wonderfully sweet and confidential manner. The Mexican was perfectly infatuated. He made the most passionate avowals, scarcely conscious what he was saying. I watched the tall Texan. The veins in his forehead were swollen; he strode to and fro restlessly, fixing fierce and deadly glances upon the loving couple. A terrible change had taken place in the expression of his features, which ordinarily had something sweet and sad in it. It was now dark, brutish, and malignant. Suddenly, as if by an ungovernable impulse, he rushed up close to where they stood, and, drawing a large bowie-knife, said to the woman, in a quick, savage tone,
"Dance with me now, or, damn you, I'll cut your heart out!"
She turned toward him haughtily—"Señor!"
"Dance with me,or die!"
"Señor," said the woman, quietly, and with an unflinching eye, "you are drunk! Don't come so near to me!"
The infuriated man made a motion as if to strike at her with his knife; but, quick as lightning, the young Mexican grasped his uprisen arm and the two clenched. I could not see what was done in the struggle. Those of the crowd who were nearest rushed in, and the affray soon became general. Pistols and knives were drawn in every direction; but so sudden was the fight that nobody seemed to know where to aim or strike. In the midst of the confusion, a man jumped up on one of the benches and shouted,
"Back! back with you! The man's stabbed! Let him out!"
The swaying mass parted, and the tall Texan staggeredthrough, then fell upon the floor. His shirt was covered with blood, and he breathed heavily. A moment after the woman uttered a low, wild cry, and, dashing through the crowd—her long black hair streaming behind her—she cast herself down by the prostrate man and sobbed,
"O cara mio! O Deos! is he dead? is he dead?"
"Who did this? Who stabbed this man?" demanded several voices, fiercely.
"No matter," answered the wounded man, faintly. "It was my own fault; I deserved it;" and, turning his face toward the weeping woman, he said, smiling, "Don't cry; don't go on so."
There was an ineffable tenderness in his voice, and something indescribably sweet in the expression of his face.
"O Deos!" cried the woman, kissing him passionately. "O cara mio! Say you will not die! Tell me you will not die!" And, tearing her dress with frantic strength, she tried to stanch the blood, which was rapidly forming a crimson pool around him.
The crowd meantime pressed so close that the man suffered for want of air, and begged to be removed. Several persons seized hold of him, and, lifting him from the floor, carried him out. The dark señorita followed close up, still pressing the fragments of her bloodstained dress to his wound.
Order was restored, and the music and dancing went on as if nothing had happened.
I had no desire to see any more of the evening amusements.
Next day I learned that the unfortunate man was dead. He was a stranger at San Luis, and refused to reveal his name, or make any disclosures concerning the affray. His last words were addressed to the woman, who clung to him with a devotion bordering on insanity. When she saw that he was doomed to die, the tears ceased to flow from her eyes, and she sat by his bedside with awild, affrighted look, clutching his hands in hers, and ever and anon bathing her lips in the life-blood that oozed from his mouth.
"I loved you—still love you better than my life!"
These were his last words. A gurgle, a quivering motion of the stalwart frame, and he was dead!
At an examination before the alcalde, it was proved that the stabbing must have occurred before the affray became general. It was also shown that the young Mexican was unarmed, and had no acquaintance with the murdered man.
Who could have done it?
Was it the devil-woman? Was this a case of jealousy, and was the tall Texan the father of the murdered child?
Upon these points I could get no information. The whole affair, with all its antecedent circumstances, was wrapped in an impenetrable mystery. When the body was carried to the grave by a few strangers, including myself, the chief mourner was the half-breed woman—now a ghastly wreck. The last I saw of her, as we turned sadly away, she was sitting upon the sod at the head of the grave, motionless as a statue.
Next morning a vaquero, passing in that direction, noticed a shapeless mass lying upon the newly-spaded earth. It proved to be the body of the unfortunate woman, horribly mutilated by the wolves. The clothes were torn from it, and the limbs presented a ghastly spectacle of fleshless bones. Whether she died by her own hand, or was killed by the wolves during the night, none could tell. She was buried by the side of her lover.
Soon after these events, having completed my business in San Luis, I took passage in a small schooner for San Francisco, where I had the satisfaction in a few days of turning over ten thousand dollars to the Collector of Customs.
I never afterward could obtain any information respecting the two men mentioned in the early part of mynarrative—the Colonel and Jack. No steps were taken by the authorities to arrest them. It is the usual fate of such men in California sooner or later to fall into the hands of an avenging mob. Doubtless they met with a merited retribution.
Eleven years have passed since these events took place. Many changes have occurred in California. The gangs of desperadoes that infested the state have been broken up; some of the members have met their fate at the hands of justice—more have fallen victims to their own excesses. I have meanwhile traveled in many lands, and have had my full share of adventures. But still, every incident in the "Dangerous Journey" which I have attempted to describe is as fresh in my mind as if it happened but yesterday.
There is something very fascinating in public office. The dignity of the position touches our noblest sympathies, and makes heroes and patriots of the most commonplace men. It is wonderful, too, how unselfish people become under the influence of this most potent charm. Every four years it becomes an epidemic. The passional attraction of office is felt throughout the length and breadth of the land. Many thousands of our best citizens visit the seat of government at the inauguration of a new president. A large proportion of them have faithfully served their country by contributing their time, talents, energies, and pecuniary resources to the success of the dominant party. But they don't want any thing; they have a natural repugnance to office; they merely come to look on, and pay their respects to the chief magistrate. If he deems it necessary to solicit their services for the common good, it is not for them, as patriotic citizens, to refuse. The seductive influences of official position may tend, perhaps, to quicken their perception of the grades of service in which their time could be most profitably spent; but modesty, after all, is their predominant trait. Indeed, for that matter, the general characteristic of great men is modesty, and where will you see so many notoriously great men as in Washington upon the advent of a new administration. The difficulty is to find a man who is not great. You may find many whoare poor, some thriftless, and a few worthless, but none deficient in greatness. It must not be understood, however, that mercenary considerations have any connection with the charm which allures them thither. These excellent people—as in my own case, for example—are governed by motives of the purest and most exalted patriotism. Who is there so destitute of national pride—so indifferent to the welfare of his fellow-beings, that he does not desire to serve his country when he sees that she stands in need of his services?
The consideration of a per-diem allowance could not be wholly discarded, but I assure you, upon the veracity of a public officer, it had not the slightest influence upon me when I accepted the responsible position of Inspector General of Public Depositories. The Secretary of the Treasury—a gentleman in whom I had great confidence—required my services. I was unwilling, of course, to stand in the way of an efficient administration of the affairs of his department. The fact is, I had great personal respect for him, and was anxious to afford him all the assistance in my power. I do not pretend to say that the appointment of inspector general was destitute of attractions in itself, but they were not of a pecuniary character. The title had a sonorous and authoritative ring about it altogether different from the groveling jingle of filthy lucre—something that vibrated upon the higher chords of the soul.
An honorable ambition to serve one's country is one of the highest and most ennobling passions that can govern the human mind. To this may be attributed some of the greatest achievements which have given lustre to ancient and modern history. It has developed the greatest intellects of the Old and New World, and furnished the rising generation with illustrious models of unselfish devotion to the common welfare of mankind.
No wonder, then, that office possesses such extraordinary attractions. It is the cheapest way of becoming great. A man never before heard of outside of his villagehome—never before known to do any thing remarkable by his most intimate friends—never before suspected of possessing the least capacity for mental or manual labor of any kind whatsoever, may become, in the course of four-and-twenty hours, a topic of newspaper comment throughout the whole country—praised for virtues he never possessed, abused for vices to which he never aspired. An appointment places him prominently before the public. It shows the world that there was always something in him—whether whisky or sense matters little, since he has received the endorsement of the "powers that be."
To make a short story of it, I was obliged to accept the position. The party in power stood in need of my services. I could not refuse without great detriment to the country. This was many years since; and I beg to say that there is nothing in my journal of experiences bearing upon the present state of affairs. At great pecuniary sacrifice (that is to say, in a prospective sense, for I hadn't a dime in the world), I announced myself as ready to proceed to duty. In his letter of instructions, the Secretary of the Treasury was pleased to direct me to proceed to the Pacific coast, and carefully examine into the condition of the revenue service in that remote region. I was to see that the accounts of the collectors were properly kept and rendered; that the revenue laws were faithfully administered; that the valuation of imports was uniform throughout the various districts; whether any reduction could be made in the number of inspectors and aids to the revenue stationed within their limits, with a view to a more economical administration of the laws; whether the public moneys were kept in the manner prescribed by the Independent Treasury Act of August 6th, 1846; and what additional measures, if any, were necessary for the prevention of smuggling and other frauds upon the revenue, all of which I was to report, with such views as might be suggested in the course of the investigation for the promotion of the public interests.These were but a few of the important subjects of official inquiry upon which I was to enlighten the Department. I frankly confess that, when I read the instructions, and pondered over their massive proportions and severe tone of gravity, I was appalled at the immensity of the interests committed to my charge. A somewhat versatile career, during which I had served before the mast in a whaler, studied medicine, hunted squirrels in the backwoods, followed the occupation of ferry-keeper, flat-boat hand, and short-hand writer, had not fitted me particularly for this sort of business. What did I know about the forms of accounts current, drawbacks, permits, entries, appraisements, licenses, enrollments, and abstracts of imports and exports? What reliable or definite information was I prepared to give to collectors of customs in reference to schedules and sliding scales? What hope was there that I could ever get to the bottom of a fraud upon the revenue service, when I had but a glimmering notion of the difference between fabrics of which the component parts were two thirds wool, and fabrics composed in whole or in part of sheet-iron, leather, or gutta-percha?
As for inspectors of customs, how in the world was an agent to find out how many inspectors were needed except by asking the collector of the district, who ought to know more about it than a stranger? But if the collector had half a dozen brothers, cousins, or friends in office as inspectors, would it not be expecting a little too much of human nature to suppose he would say there were too many in his district? I reflected over the idea of asking one of these gentlemen to inform me confidentially if he thought he could dispense with a dozen or so of his relatives and friends without detriment to the public service, but abandoned it as chimerical. Then, to go outside and question any disinterested member of the community on this subject seemed equally absurd. Who could be said to be disinterested when only a few offices were to be filled, and a great many people wished to fillthem? I would be pretty sure to stumble upon some disappointed applicant for an inspectorship, or, worse still, upon a smuggler. It is a well-ascertained fact that disappointed applicants for office are always opposed to the fortunate applicants, and smugglers, as a general rule, have a natural antipathy to inspectors of customs.
There was another serious duty imposed upon me—to ascertain the character and standing of all the public employés, their general reputation for sobriety, industry, and honesty, and to report accordingly. Here was rather a delicate matter—one, in fact, that might be productive of innumerable personal difficulties. Having no unfriendly feeling toward any man, and attaching a fair valuation to life, I did not much relish the notion of placing any man's personal infirmities upon the official records. If a public officer drank too much whisky, it was certainly a very injurious practice, alike prejudicial to his health and morals; but where was to be the gauge between too much and only just enough? No man likes to have his predilection for stimulating beverages made a matter of public question, and the gradations between temperance and intemperance are so arbitrary in different communities that it would be a very difficult matter to report upon. I have seen men "sociable" in New Orleans who would be considered "elevated" in Boston, and men "a little shot" in Texas who would be regarded as "drunk" in Maine. It is all a matter of opinion. No man is ever drunk in his own estimation, and whether he is so in the estimation of others depends pretty much upon their standard of sobriety. With respect to honesty, that was an equally delicate matter. What might be considered honest among politicians might be very questionable in ordinary life. I once knew of a public officer who had been charged with embezzling certain public moneys. There was no doubt of the fact, but he fought a duel to prove his innocence. In one respect, at least, he was honest—he placed a fair valuation upon his life, which was worth no more to the community than it was tohimself. I did not think an ordinary per-diem allowance would be sufficient to compensate for maintaining the public credit by such tests as this, especially as there were nearly two hundred public offices to be examined; but it seemed nothing more than reasonable that the laws should be administered by sober and honest men, and, upon the whole, I could not perceive how this unpleasant duty could be avoided.
The Department furnished me with a penknife, a pencil, several quires of paper, and a copy of Gordon's Digest of the Revenue Laws. This was my outfit. It was not equal to the outfit of a minister plenipotentiary, but there was a certain dignity in its very simplicity. To be the owner of a fine Congressional penknife, a genuine English lead-pencil, paperad libitum, and Gordon's Digest, was no trifling advance in my practical resources. I looked into the Digest, read many of the laws, and became satisfied that the Creator had not gifted me with any capacity for understanding that species of writing. For Mr. Gordon, who had digested those laws, I felt a very profound admiration. His powers of digestion were certainly better than mine. I would much rather have undertaken to digest a keg of spike nails. The Act of March 2, 1799, upon which most of the others were based, was evidently drawn with great ability, and covered the whole subject. Like a Bœotian fog, however, it covered it up so deep that I don't think the author ever saw it again after he got through writing the law. Whenever there was a tangible point to be found, it was either abolished, or so obscured by some other law made in conformity with the progress of the times that it became no point at all; so that, after perusing pretty much the whole book, and referring to Mayo's Compendium of Circulars and Treasury Regulations, I am free to confess the effect was very decided. I knew a great deal less than before, for I was utterly unable to determine who was right—Congress, Gordon, Mayo, or myself.
Under these circumstances, it will hardly be a matterof surprise that serious doubt as to my capacity for this service entered my mind. Perhaps, in the whole history of government offices, it was the first time such a doubt ever entered any man's head upon receiving an appointment, and I claim some credit for originality on that account. The position was highly responsible; the duties were of a very grave and important character, bordering on the metaphysical. Now, had I been requested to visit Juan Fernandez, and report upon the condition of Robinson Crusoe's castle, or ascertain the spot in which he found the footprint in the sand, or describe for the benefit of science the breed of wild goats descended from the original stock—had these questions been involved in my instructions, or had I been appointed to succeed Sancho Panza in the government of Nantucket (which I verily believe was the island referred to by Cervantes), I could have had no misgivings of success. But this awful thing of abstracts and accounts current; this subtile mystery of appraisements, appeals, drawbacks, bonds, and bonded warehouses; this terrible demon of manifests, invoices, registers, enrollments, and licenses; this hateful abomination of circulars on refined sugar, and fabrics composed in whole or in part of wool; this miserable subterfuge of triplicate vouchers and abstracts of disbursements, combined to cast a gloom over my mind almost akin to despair. The question arose, would it not be the most honorable course to return the commission to the Secretary of the Treasury, and confess to him confidentially, as a friend, that I thought he would render the country greater service by appointing a more suitable agent? But then there was the per-diem allowance, a very snug little sum, much needed at the time; and there was the honor of the position—a pillar in the federal structure; and then the advantage of travel, and the charm of becoming at once famous in the national records. Besides, it might be considered disrespectful to say to the Secretary of the Treasury—a gentleman from an interior state, who had no experience in commerce orpublic finances—that I had no experience in these things myself, and doubted my capacity to do justice to the government. Might he not regard such a confession in the light of a personal reflection?
After all, I thought it would be as well perhaps to try my hand at the business. Many a man never finds out that he is great in some particular line till he tries his hand. I have at this moment in my eye at least half a dozen senators of the United States who I verily believe would make excellent butchers, bakers, blacksmiths, and carpenters, if they only knew it. I am acquainted with some that would be an ornament to any court of justice as public criers, and not a few who would make capital hands at playing quoits and pitch-penny. In short, I know many men occupying these positions who would succeed even better in other branches of industry than in the capacity of statesmen; but the misfortune is, they are not aware of the fact, and never can be persuaded to believe it. Very few men understand what they are good for till some adventitious circumstance occurs to develop their latent and peculiar talents. In this view, it might be that I was a capital hand at revenue business, though, to tell the truth, I had never collected any revenue worth mentioning on my own account; and what experience I had had in depositories was confined to my own pockets, which seldom retained the sums deposited in them over twelve hours, if so long as that.
A transcript from my official reports will convey some idea of my labors under the complicated instructions issued to me at various intervals from Washington.
The first has reference to the general subject of smuggling, and proposes the removal of the Custom-house from San Francisco to Bear Harbor, near Cape Mendocino. This was addressed to his Honor the Secretary of the Treasury:
"Sir,—If Bear Harbor is eligible for any purpose in the world, it is for a port of entry and a custom-house.Not that there are any inhabitants there at present, or in the vicinity, except Indians, bears, elk, deer, and wildcats; not that any vessels ever come in there, or ever will, perhaps, but as a guard against smuggling. You know, sir, from the experience of collectors from Passamaquoddy Bay to Point Isabel, and from San Diego to the Straits of Fuca, that smuggling must be going on somewhere, else why is the Treasury Department flooded with applications for an increase of inspectors? Even senators and members of Congress unite in the opinion that a great deal of smuggling is perpetrated on remote and isolated parts of our coast, for they are always recommending some friend in whom they have confidence to keep a guard upon the revenue at such places. One would think that smugglers would rather pay duties and take their wares into a good market, than put them ashore where there are no inhabitants, and transport them at double the risk and cost to some place where they are wanted. If they must enjoy the pleasure of violating the law at all, would it not pay better to smuggle their wares directly into the principal cities, as New York or San Francisco, for example? I know that in the former place they incur some risk of detection from night inspectors, who are supposed to be always on the look-out about the wharves after dark; but in San Francisco the night inspectors have been abolished on account of the soporific effects of the climate. Several of them fell asleep directly after receiving their appointments, and never woke up, except on pay-day, during the entire term of their service.
"For some years, at least, one collector of customs could perform all the duties that might be required of him at Bear Harbor. No doubt the dullest and laziest politician in the entire state could be hired to occupy the position at three thousand dollars per annum. The collector at the city of Gardner, which consists of two small frame shanties and a pig-pen, situated at the mouth of the Umpqua River—where shipwreck is almost absolutelycertain in case a vessel attempts to enter—receives only a thousand dollars per annum. Sir, it can not be expected that a gentleman more than ordinarily gifted with valuable traits of character can be obtained for so small a sum. Government is compelled to pay for the services of active and intelligent collectors at the ports of Benicia, Sacramento, Stockton, Monterey, San Pedro, and San Diego, three thousand dollars a year each. If they were at all conspicuous for idleness, it is impossible to conjecture what it would cost to obtain their services; but the amount of labor performed by these gentlemen (who, by the way, are all very excellent persons, and for whom I entertain great personal respect) is almost incredible. At Benicia the duties of the office are absolutely onerous. From one to two vessels a year enter that port with coals from Cardiff, which are deposited at the dépôt of the Pacific Steam-ship Company. Upon these coals the duties have to be computed and accounts rendered to the Department, besides which he is compelled to keep an accurate account of his own salary. For all this he is only allowed the occasional services of one inspector, whereas he ought to be allowed three. If they were gentlemen of a lively temperament, they would at least give something of vitality to the present deserted appearance of the port. I have known a smaller number than that to produce a considerable sensation in the public streets of other cities. A great deal of trouble to the Benicia collector might be saved if the two Cardiff vessels per annum were permitted to enter at San Francisco on their way up.
"At Sacramento the duties of the collector are still more arduous. Indeed, it is a matter of surprise that any man can be found to undertake them at three thousand dollars a year. A vessel with foreign goods entered this port in 1849, since which period some six or eight consecutive collectors have been anxiously awaiting the arrival of another. The most remarkable part of it is, that the other vessel has never yet arrived. Upon a reviewof the facts, I think that any person of a less sanguine temperament than a collector of customs would have long since given up the hope of obtaining any public revenue from this source. Somehow all the vessels have a habit of stopping at San Francisco, paying duties there, discharging their cargoes for interior transportation, and going about their business, which must be a constant subject of mortification to the Sacramento collectors. I have known respectable gentlemen who occupied this position to be denied over twenty-five dollars a month for office-rent, after it had ranged for years at two or three hundred—even denied the services of a deputy or clerk, and actually compelled to make out their own pay accounts!
"And yet these officers are required to attend at primary meetings, conventions, and legislative assemblages, and keep the party all right, when there may be a complication of difficulties between the various aspirants for the Senate of the United States, utterly impossible to settle except by electing them all.
"At Stockton the case is still harder. I never knew a collector there to have any thing at all to do, except to keep the run of his office-rent and salary, which, in justice it must be said, is a branch of public duty always faithfully performed. Yet this officer is expected to pass the time agreeably year after year on a miserable pittance of three thousand dollars, without even the hope of ever seeing a dutiable cargo landed upon the wharves of the city. I do not believe that the most sanguine gentleman that ever held that position aspired to any thing of greater commercial value than a flock of sheep supposed to be on the way from Mexico, and for the capture and confiscation of which two inspectors were for many years stationed at the Tejon Pass, about three hundred miles from Stockton. But even the hope of seizing these sheep or their descendants has been blasted since Congress abolished the duties on stock; and now the collector, to protect the revenue, must fail unless he succeeds in gettinghold of a box of contraband articles that it is supposed certain parties in San Francisco are awaiting an opportunity to send up, either by the steam navigation line or some of the small sailing craft that ply on this route. As this box of goods has been expected ever since 1852, the prospect of its appearance and seizure is becoming more favorable every year. If there was a surveyor stationed at the mouth of the San Joaquin—say in the city called 'the New York of the Pacific'—the chances of seizure would be greatly augmented. There is a surveyor of customs at Nisquelly, in the Territory of Washington, and another at Santa Barbara, who might render some aid by the transmission of secret information. I do not know what has become of the surveyor at Pacific City, near the mouth of the Columbia. The last time I saw him he was engaged in the performance of his official functions in the tin business at Oregon City, the City of Pacific having been discontinued about two years previously in consequence of a lack of inhabitants.
"At Monterey the amount of hardship endured by the collector is absolutely incredible. Not only is he furnished with an indifferent government house to live in, which costs an annual outlay of several hundred dollars to keep it from falling to pieces, and thereby crushing himself and assistants beneath the ruins, but he is required to look after two inspectors, who are appointed to aid him in protecting the coast from the nefarious operations of smugglers. Besides this, it is supposed that a mysterious vessel has been hovering around the Bay of Monterey ever since 1852, with an assorted cargo of bar fixtures, billiard balls, whisky, nine-pins, cards, cotton handkerchiefs, boots, bowie-knives, and revolvers, upon a considerable portion of which duties have never been paid. This vessel is no doubt awaiting an opportunity to land these articles in violation of law, and to the great detriment of public morals and serious loss to the treasury. The collector is expected to be present or within reach of a telegraphic dispatch whenever she makes her appearance;and it is farther expected that he will not flinch from his duty even should she prove to be the Flying Dutchman or the Wizard of the Seas.
"At San Pedro the coasting steamer Senator touches for grapes and passengers some half a dozen times a month, and the collector is expected to keep a record of that vessel's arrivals and departures; also the range of Captain Banning's paddle-wheeled steam skiff Medora, six scows, and several fishing smacks. In addition to these onerous duties, it devolves upon him to keep his own pay account, and see that the light does not stop burning of nights in the public light-house on Point Conception, without any money to pay the keeper and assistant except such casual remittances as may be made once or twice in the course of as many years. I knew one light-house keeper who stood by the light manfully for a whole year, and finally had to sell his chance of pay for the means of subsistence. Some of the light-house keepers, indeed, are supposed to live on whale-oil, the Board in Washington being evidently under the impression that oil is a light article of diet, upon which men will not be apt to go to sleep. Another reason, perhaps, for the remissness with which their salaries generally arrive is that their stations are generally not densely populated with voters, or, in fact, with any thing but sheep and rabbits. I have a person in my eye whom I would like to recommend for the collectorship at San Pedro whenever the present incumbent may think proper to resign. By the way, the latter is a very clever and estimable gentleman, to whom I intend not the slightest disrespect in thus referring to his office; but there are peculiar qualifications for every position in life, and the individual to whom I refer possesses some very remarkable advantages over the generality of custom-house officers; that is to say, he can sleep on his desk in the midst of the direst confusion; is never known to be in a hurry; thinks no more of time than he does of eternity, or any thing else; and invariably postpones till to-morrow what most peoplewould deem of vital importance to be done to-day. His work is generally in arrears, but will be all right—poco tiempo!
"At San Diego the same burdensome and oppressive state of things exists. The Custom-house is an old military building, with a roof that falls to pieces every winter, and a set of doors and windows through which both wind and rain have free access. The only article of public property about the premises that yet sticks together is a tremendous iron safe, in which the revenue is going to be kept—as soon as it is collected. Even this is getting rusty for want of use. The books have an ancient and fish-like aspect; and a public shovel, that is used to clear the mud away from the door whenever a vessel is seen in the offing, is going away year after year, and will eventually be reduced to a broken handle. This office is accessible by means of a boat, though in bad weather the deputy prefers to reside in an old hulk that lies at anchor in the bay. The building is eligibly located in a chapparal of prickly pears, within about five miles of Old Town, or, properly speaking, the beautiful city of San Diego. Mexican stock were formerly imported into this district, but, having been made free by act of Congress, the collector is left destitute of occupation, and is compelled to seek business and society in various parts of the state. Now and then, however, he is supposed to take a look at his pay account, and see that the public light on the Point keeps burning of nights, notwithstanding the roof has been blown off. As government refuses to furnish him with rain-water to drink, he is compelled, whenever his official duties call him to the port of entry, to hitch up his buggy and travel five miles to the city of San Diego every time he is thirsty. Indeed, so parsimonious is the Department becoming of late, that it will not even allow him a deputy or clerk at public expense, although there has been one there for years. I look upon this as a very severe course of discipline to impose upon any gentleman whose services are presumed to be worththree thousand dollars per annum, and would recommend that he should at least be allowed a bottle of whisky.
"All these are examples of the manner in which executive patronage may be enlarged without inconvenience to commerce or obstruction to navigation. If it were not for the collectorships, what would the delegation in Congress have to make up the complement of their indebtedness to partisan politicians? and if one delegation were denied this privilege, how could accounts be settled with fellow-members similarly situated in other states? An inspector of customs, at a compensation of five hundred dollars a year (for there is nothing to do), would of course answer the requirements of commerce at any of these ports; but then what sort of an office would that be to offer to the owner of one or more members of the Legislature? It would be especially severe at Bear Harbor, where there will be no coffee-houses, billiard saloons, or other places of amusement for some time.
"In view of these suggestions being urged upon Congress by the heads of the departments, I would mention that, in the temporary absence of government buildings at Bear Harbor, a number of chapadens, or brush tents, at present occupied by Indians, can be leased for a term of years at a rate of rent not exceeding from five hundred to a thousand dollars each per month. The very best of them can be had for less than the rent paid for the Union Street Bonded Warehouse in San Francisco, toward the building of which government loaned seventy-two thousand dollars as an advance of rent, and paid, by way of interest on the capital, for four years, two hundred and eighty-eight thousand dollars; after which, upon the united representation of twenty influential merchants, a collector and deputy collector of customs, and a special agent, that the premises were only worth about fourteen thousand per annum, it paid one hundred and ten thousand more to abrogate the contract, and as a solemn warning to all private individuals and public officers not to attempt such a speculation as that again. Thechapaden of the chief digger, To-no-wauka, could be purchased in fee simple for less than twenty-eight thousand dollars, which was the exact amount annually expended for the rent of the United States Court-rooms at San Francisco until my friend Yorick, the government agent, reduced it to ten thousand, after which, of course, he was removed.
"As an additional protection to the revenue, I would suggest that a revenue cutter be stationed at Bear Harbor, modeled after the fashion of a large wash-tub, which would be but a slight improvement upon the sailing capacity of the three cutters now stationed on the Pacific coast. The masts might be constructed out of large tin dippers inverted, in the bowls of which marines could be stationed to keep a look-out for smugglers. Spare blankets would answer for the sails, and a large carving-knife run out at the stern would serve admirably to steer by. In order that there might be no danger of missing the way during dark nights from any variation in the compass, it would be well, perhaps, to abandon the compass altogether, and send a boat ahead with a light, to point out where the rocks and smugglers might be found. There being no vessels to catch at Bear Harbor, no inconvenience would result from the fact that such a cutter would be as well calculated to lie at anchor as the cutter Marcy at San Francisco, which has been known to pursue several vessels for infractions of the revenue laws, but never to catch any of them. I attribute this not to any want of zeal on the part of the officers, but partly to the superior speed of the runaway vessels, and partly to the fact that the Marcy is obliged to lie at anchor for six months in the year in the Bay of San Francisco for want of other occupation. The remaining six months she necessarily spends in the Straits of Carquinas, near Benicia, in order to get rid of the barnacles that accumulate on her bottom during the term of her sedentary career below.
"If exception should be taken to this precedent onthe ground that a revenue cutter may sometimes really be wanted at a port of entry where there is some commerce, surely none will be taken to the cutter Lane, stationed within the mouth of the Columbia River. For the officers of this cutter I entertain the most sincere respect; but if she has ever been known to chase any thing larger than wild ducks, the fact must have been hushed up from motives of public policy. It has certainly not been a matter of general comment. About one vessel with dutiable merchandise enters the Columbia in the course of half a dozen years, and certainly all sailing vessels have difficulty enough in getting in, without attempting to run away after they come to an anchor. Indeed, I don't know where they would run to unless it might be over the Cascades, and through the Dalles to Walla Walla, or up to Oregon City on the Willamette River, where the flour-mills of Abernethy & Co. would soon grind them to pieces. To suppose that they would undertake to run away before they get over the bar is to suppose that they might just as well stay away altogether, and thereby avoid the risk of shipwreck in addition to the remote possibility of being captured by a revenue cutter. The officers condemned to this station have my most ardent sympathies. It generally rains at Astoria between two and three hundred days every year, the consequence of which is, that the whole country and every thing in it has a mildewed appearance. Already I can fancy that barnacles are growing on the beards of these gentlemen; that their skin is becoming slippery and green; their eyes sharkish in expression, from a constant habit of looking out for smugglers that never can be within five hundred miles; that the habit of pulling ashore in the boats and back again; 'making it so' when four and eight bells are announced; looking up at the mast-head and then down again; going below and reading the same old newspaper, and coming up again; turning in and taking a nap, and turning out when the nap is ended; exercising their quadrants by an occasional peepat the heavenly bodies; eating three scanty and melancholy meals a day; doing all this and never doing any thing else, unless it may be to superintend the patching of an old sail which has rotted to pieces, or the splicing of an old rope to keep the blocks from falling down on their heads, will eventually so wear upon their mental and physical resources as to drive them all mad. Should it ever be the misfortune of any suspicious character to fall into the hands of these gentlemen, I have no doubt he will have reason to regret it during the brief period of his existence; for they will certainly cut him to pieces with their swords, or blow him to fragments out of one of the public guns, on the general principle that, being paid for doing something, they ought to do it as soon as possible.
"The revenue cutter at Puget's Sound, familiarly known as the 'Jeff Davis,' finds occasional occupation in chasing porpoises and wild Indians. It is to be regretted that but little revenue has yet been derived from either of these sources; but should she persist in her efforts, there is hope that at no distant day she may overhaul a canoe containing a keg of British brandy—that is to say, in case the paddles are lost, and the Indians have no means of propelling it out of the way.
"These vessels, in addition to their original cost, which was not cheap considering their quality and sailing capacity, require an expenditure of some forty or fifty thousand dollars a year for repairs, rigging, pay of officers and men, subsistence, etc., as also for powder to enable the officers to kill ducks and salute distinguished people that visit these remote regions. Now and then they run on the rocks in trying to find their way from one anchorage to another, in which event they require extra repairs. As this is for the benefit of navigation, it should not be included in the account. They generally avoid running on the same rock, and endeavor to find out a new one not laid down upon the charts—unless, perhaps, by some reckless fly—in order that other vessels may enjoy theadvantage of additional experience. The beauty of Bear Harbor in this respect is, that a revenue cutter could run on a new rock every day in the year, so that, by designating its exact location on the chart, there would be three hundred and sixty-five rocks per annum to be avoided by vessels entering the harbor.
"Some military protection would probably be required there for several years to come, in order to protect the citizens from the attacks of grizzly bears. I would suggest that a post be established on some eligible point, and comfortable quarters erected for the officers and soldiers. While these quarters are in progress of erection, it might be well to station a large rooster in the top of a neighboring tree to give warning of the approach of the enemy. As Rome was saved in one way, so might Bear Harbor be saved in another. Should it become necessary to abandon them, the citizens will no doubt be willing to purchase them at public auction.
"I do not know what the military quarters at Fort Miller are going to do, but the last time I saw them they looked very sorry they had ever been built. The same may be said of the quarters at Benicia, Fort Tejon, and San Diego, which goes to prove the transitory character of military operations. So long as our army goes about the country dropping down beautiful little cities, we in the line of civil life can certainly have no objection. As expense is no object, perhaps, to the War Department, I would suggest that there is a very rugged point of rocks near the entrance of Bear Harbor, upon which a friend of mine has located a claim that he is willing to sell for military purposes for the sum of one hundred and fifty thousand dollars. It commands a fine view of the ocean, and abounds in mussels and albicores; besides which, it is cheaper and uglier than Lime Point at the entrance of the Golden Gate, and would not require near so much writing to make the purchase satisfactory to the public.
"For a few years, during the infancy of the community, it may be necessary for some enterprising citizen toborrow from government one hundred thousand dollars at six per cent. per annum, in consequence of the high rates of interest in California. There will be no difficulty in doing this, I apprehend, if he have influence at court. A precedent may be found in the case of the Folsom estate, against which judgment had been obtained, and an execution placed in the hands of the marshal. Private parties found it to their advantage to step in, purchase a portion of the property, pay a portion of the debt, and, upon giving satisfactory security, assume the remainder, amounting to a hundred thousand dollars, at six per cent. It may be a little irregular to favor particular parties in this way, but then public money had better be bringing six per cent. than lying idle in the treasury; and besides, when it is found necessary to issue treasury notes in order to carry on the government, they bring a premium, and there is a gain to that extent over the ready cash. If all the public money was loaned out at six per cent., and all the private money that might be necessary borrowed at five, of course the financial condition of the treasury would be one per cent. better per annum.
"After these things were done, and the business of Bear Harbor placed upon a permanent footing, private instructions might be issued to the collector of customs to go out and stump the state in behalf of the great principles of national economy. Experience would enable him to stand firmly upon the broad platform of public integrity; and when he addressed the multitude, he could dwell feelingly on the sublime doctrine of earlier days—'Millions for defense, but not a cent for tribute!' He could put his hand upon his brow, and solemnly declare that, so long as he was gifted with the light of intellect to comprehend the sound doctrines of public policy bequeathed to us by our forefathers, he would stand by the laws and the Constitution. He could put his hand upon his heart, and call upon the people to witness that he, for one, had ever remained true to first principles. He could put his hand upon his stomach, and avow, from the bottomof his soul, that he conscientiously indorsed the measures of the prevailing party. He could put his hand upon his pocket, and affirm in all sincerity that he went heart and hand with the reigning powers on all the great questions of the day. And, having fully delivered himself on these various points, he could wind up with an anecdote from the Schildburghers. When the wise men of Schilda undertook to build their grand council-house, they carried down on their backs from the top of a high hill a large number of heavy logs. In moving the last log, it fell out of their hands and rolled to the bottom of the hill. 'Don't you see,' said the town fool, 'if you had started them all in the same way, they would have rolled down of their own accord?' which they admitted was true, and accordingly carried all the logs up to the top of the hill again, and then rolled them down. So, if the people don't like this party, they can roll in another just as good.
Your obedient servant, etc."
In my next chapter of experiences I propose giving a succinct account of the great Port Townsend Controversy. This cost me more trouble than all my other experiences together, and came very near costing me my life.
Few persons who have visited the Pacific coast of late years are ignorant of the fact that the city of Port Townsend is eligibly situated on Puget's Sound, near the Straits of Fuca; and none who have seen that remarkable city can hesitate a moment to admit that it is a commercial metropolis without parallel.
Port Townsend is indeed a remarkable place. I am not acquainted with quite such another place in the whole world. It certainly possesses natural and artificial advantages over most of the cities known in the Atlantic States or Europe. In front there is an extensive water privilege, embracing the various ramifications of Puget's Sound. Admiralty Inlet forms an outlet for the exports of the country, and Hood's Canal is an excellent place for hoodwinking the revenue officers. On the rear, extending to Dunganess Point, is a jungle of pine and matted brush, through which neither man nor beast can penetrate without considerable effort. This will always be a secure place of retreat in case of an invasion from a war-canoe manned by Northern Indians. With regard to the town itself, it is singularly picturesque and diversified. The prevailing style of architecture is a mixed order of the Gothic, Doric, Ionic, and Corinthian. The houses, of which there must be at least twenty in the city and suburbs, are built chiefly of pine boards, thatched with shingles, canvas, and wooden slabs. The palace and out-buildings of the Duke of York are built of drift-wood from the saw-mills of Port Ludlow, and are eligibly locatednear the wharf, so as to be convenient to the clams and oysters, and afford his maids of honor an opportunity of indulging in frequent ablutions. There is somewhat of an ancient and fish-like odor about the premises of his highness, and it must be admitted that his chimneys smoke horribly, but still the artistic effect is very fine at a distance. The streets of Port Townsend are paved with sand, and the public squares are curiously ornamented with dead horses and the bones of many dead cows, upon the beef of which the inhabitants have partially subsisted since the foundation of the city. This, of course, gives a very original appearance to the public pleasure-grounds, and enables strangers to know when they arrive in the city, by reason of the peculiar odor, so that, even admitting the absence of lamps, no person can fail to recognize Port Townsend in the darkest night. When it was a port of entry under the laws of the United States, there was a collector of customs stationed in a small shanty on the principal wharf, whose business it was to look out for smugglers, and pay the salary of an inspector who owns some sheep on San Juan Island, and holds joint possession of that disputed territory with the British government. The collector of customs, being unable to attend to the many important duties that devolved upon him without assistance, was allowed two boatmen, whose duty it was to put him on board of suspicious vessels in the offing, and one of whom, by virtue of a special commission, was ex-officio deputy collector, and made up the accounts of the district.
The principal luxuries afforded by the market of this delightful sea-port are clams, and the carcasses of dead whales that drift ashore, by reason of eating which the inhabitants have clammy skins, and are given to much spouting at public meetings. The prevailing languages spoken are the Clallam, Chenook, and Skookum-Chuck, or Strong Water, with a mixture of broken English; and all the public notices are written on shingles with burnt sticks, and nailed up over the door of the town-hall. Anewspaper, issued here once every six months, is printed by means of wooden types whittled out of pine knots by the Indians, and rubbed against the bottom of the editor's potato pot. The cast-off shirts of the inhabitants answer for paper. For the preservation of public morals, a jail has been constructed out of logs that drifted ashore in times past, in which noted criminals are put for safe keeping. The first and last prisoners ever incarcerated in that institution were eleven Northern Indians, who were suspected of the murder of Colonel Ehy at Whidbey's Island. As the logs are laid upon sand to make the foundation secure, the Indians, while rooting for clams one night, happened to come up at the outside of the jail, and finding the watchman, who had been placed there by the citizens, fast asleep, with an empty whisky bottle in the distance, they stole his blanket, hat, boots, and pipe, and bade an affectionate farewell to Port Townsend.
The municipal affairs of the city are managed by a mayor and six councilmen, who are elected to office in a very peculiar manner. On the day of election, notice having been previously given on the town shingles, all the candidates for corporate honors go up on the top of the hill back of the water-front, and play at pitch-penny and quoits till a certain number are declared eligible; after which all the eligible candidates are required to climb a greased pole in the centre of the main public square. The two best then become eligible for the mayoralty, and the twelve next best for the common council. These fourteen candidates then get on the roof of the town-hall and begin to yell like Indians. Whoever can yell the loudest is declared mayor, and the six next loudest become the members of the common council for the ensuing year.
While I had the misfortune to be in public employ (and for no disreputable act that I can now remember), it became my duty to inquire into the condition of the Indians on Puget's Sound. In the course of my tour Ivisited this unique city for the purpose of having a "wa-wa" with the Duke of York, chief of the Clallam tribe.
The principal articles of commerce, I soon discovered, were whisky, cotton handkerchiefs, tobacco, and cigars, and the principal shops were devoted to billiards and the sale of grog. I was introduced by the Indian Agent to the Duke, who inhabited that region, and still disputed the possession of the place with the white settlers. If the settlers paid him any thing for the land upon which they built their shanties it must have been in whisky, for the Duke was lying drunk in his wigwam at the time of my visit. For the sake of morals, I regret to say that he had two wives, ambitiously named "Queen Victoria" and "Jenny Lind;" and for the good repute of Indian ladies of rank, it grieves me to add that the Queen and Jenny were also very tipsy, if not quite drunk, when I called to pay my respects.
The Duke was lying on a rough wooden bedstead, with a bullock's hide stretched over it, enjoying his ease with the ladies of his household. When the agent informed him that a Hyas Tyee, or Big Chief, had called to see him with a message from the Great Chief of all the Indians, the Duke grunted significantly, as much as to say "that's all right." The Queen, who sat near him in the bed, gave him a few whacks to rouse him up, and by the aid of Jenny Lind succeeded, after a while, in getting him in an upright position. His costume consisted of a red shirt and nothing else, but neither of the royal ladies seemed at all put out by the scantiness of his wardrobe. There was something very amiable and jolly in the face of the old Duke, even stupefied as he was by whisky. He shook me by the hand in a friendly manner, and, patting his stomach, remarked, "Duke York belly good man!"