Yet it is the desire of the municipality not to harass
this portion of its foreign population, and the vexatious
problem of placing the new Chinatown will probably
be settled to the satisfaction of the Chinese colony.
This colony diverts an important part of the trade
of San Francisco to that city, and if its members
are dealt with unjustly there is danger of losing
this trade. The question is one that must be left
for the future to decide, but no doubt care will be
taken that a new Chinatown with the unsavory conditions
of the old shall not arise.
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
