Tales of San Francisco: Comprising ‘San Francisco Is Your Home,’ ‘San Francisco Kaleidoscope,’ ‘The Streets of San Francisco’ 9781503621039

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TALES OF SAN FRANCISCO

Tales of

San Francisco Samuel Dickson

Stanford University Stanford, California

Stanford University Press Stanford, California © I947• I949, I955 by the Board of Trustees of the Leland Stanford] unior University Copyright renewed I975 and I977 by Barbara Dickson Gulrnon and I983 by Barbara Dickson Gulrnon, Catherine Dickson Scholes, and Helen Dickson Nestor First published in this edition in I957 Printed in the United States of America Cloth ISBN o-8047-0488-o Paper ISBN o-8047-2097-5

CONTENTS

BOOK I

San Francisco Is Your Home PAGE

Prologue

3

The Days of Gold I Sam Brannan II Biscaccianti III Fire. IV The Fire Companies v The Bella Union VI Jim Savage. VII Lord Charlie Fairfax VIII James Lick. IX Adah Isaacs Menken X The Tragic Tragedian. PART ONE:

IO I9

27 34 40 45 54

62 69 77

The Comstock, the Railroad, and Champagne Adolph Sutro Black Bart . Nob Hill "Filibuster" Walker Lotta Crabtree . Minstrels Emperor Norton

PART Two:

XI XII XIII XIV XV XVI XVII

v

85

94 ro3 r rr 120

r28

136

PART THREE: The End of the Century XVIII Lucky Baldwin XIX David Belasco XX R. L. S. . XXI Ina Coolbrith XXII Ambrose Bierce XXIII George Sterling XXIV Jane Lathrop Stanford PART FOUR: The City Comes of Age XXV The Color of the City . XXVI John McLaren . XXVII Mardikian and Food XXVIII The Earthquake . XXIX Sadakichi Hartmann XXX "The Cool, Grey City" Appreciations and Acknowledgments

144

53 158 165 1 73 180 190 I

198 206

213 220

230 239 247

sooK 11

San Francisco Kaleidoscope

Prologue

253

I II III IV VI

PART oNE: Golden Days of Youth Henry M eiggs . Lord George Gordon William Leidesdorff Tom Maguire .

263 273 283 293

v VI VII VIII

Stephen f. Field Catharine Hayes Charles and Bella Cora Madame Anna Bishop PART Two:

IX X XI XII XIII XIV XV XVI XVII

302 31 I 320 329

The Adolescent City

Bummer and Lazarus . Ralston and the Subtreasury Asbury H arpendin g The Great Diamond Hoax The Cable Cars Shanghai Kelly E Clampus Vitus Don Alfredo Robinson The Crocker Spite Fence PART THREE:

338 349 359 368 377 386 396 4°5 415

Salad Days

XVIII Isadora Duncan XIX Memories XX Toby Rosenthal XXI Night Life . XXII Tivoli Opera House XXIII The Seven Ages of Man XXIV Frank Norris XXV Portrait Album XXVI Secundino and Maria Robles XXVII 2409 Scott Street XXVIII St. Mary's Square .

425 435 443 453 461 47° 480 489 498 5°7 5I6 525

.

Appreciations and Acknowledgments Vll

sooK 111

The Streets of San Francisco 529

Prologue PART ONE: The People of the Streets

I II III IV

T etrazzini . Giovanni, Friedman, and Jim Lee David Josephi . Mad San Franciscans .

53 I 545 559 571

PART Two: Tycoons and Bohemians

V VI VII VIII IX X

Robert Dollar . "Tad" . William 0' Brien Arnold Genthe The Dusty 'Nineties Oliver M orosco

58o 591 603 615 629 642

PART THREE: Dreamers and Realists

XI XII XIII XIV

Jack London . Arthur Putnam Sol Bloom . The Streets of San Francisco . Acknowledgments Index

Vlll

652 669 683 694 699 701

Prologue If I had had my way this book would have been called San Francisco Kaleidoscope. But at a round-table discussion the point was made that this generation, addicted to toy stratosphere planes and toy atomic bombs, would not know what a kaleidoscope was. There was, however, one member of the round table who sided with me. "Why," he said, "that's absurd. Everybody knows what a kaleidoscope is. There's probably one in every family. As a matter of fact, we took ours out only the other evening. Had a very amusing time, too, looking at the pictures of the children through it." Well, that settled it. In simple words we explained" that what he referred to was not a kaleidoscope but a stereoscope. "Then," he said, "just what is a kaleidoscope?" A kaleidoscope is a cylindrical toy holding in its chamber bits of broken, colored glass. One end of the cylinder has a small aperture, and when it is held to the eye and the cylinder is revolved, the bits of glass, reflected in a mirror, fall into exciting and exquisite and ever-varying patterns and designs-just like life in San Francisco. There are bits of broken glass, fragments-some precious, some without value-odds and ends and ragtag scraps that, as they tumble out, form thrilling and lovely patterns. And, as in the kaleidoscope, so in the story of San Francisco, the more the bits are shaken up, the lovelier the patterns become.... Sunday morning on Van Ness Avenue, before St. Mary's Cathedral, and little girls in white dresses and long pigtails to their waists, walking primly to their first Cqmmunion ... The Viennese orchestra at the Hofbrau Cafe playing "Where Has My Little Dog Gone?" while the patrons lift

3

their seidels of Miinchener and sing with the band . . . A stout little man waddling fast as his short legs can carry him up the Jackson Street hill above Steiner, a black flute case under his arm. He is Elias Hecht, founder and sponsor of the San Francisco Chamber Music Society, hurrying to a rehearsal with Louis Persinger . . . The sulphur smell of bunched California matches, relics of mining days, as the lamplighter kindles his taper to light the gas lamps on Clay Street ... The Seven-Day Bicycle Races in Mechanics' Pavilion ... Little Egypt dancing the hootchy-kootchy at the Midway Plaisance ... Teddy Webb and Ferris Hartman singing The Mikado at !dora Park . . . Pastori's across the Bay, where you had your lunch under the trees with French bread soaked in garlic, great bowls of green salad with the dressing mixed at your table, porterhouse steaks two inches thick-black outside and red insideand bottles of red wine and Brie cheese . . . Frank Norris, Gelett Burgess, and Will Irwin walking down Montgomery Street, pausing to borrow a dollar from a friend, which dollar they drop, a block farther along, into the hat of Blind Joe, the Sansome Street panhandler ... The Estudillo House in San Leandro, where Sunday bicyclists stop to lunch beneath a great spreading grapevine, and the nine-course Sunday dinner with wine costs fifty cents . . . Newsboys crying, a Call, Chronicle, Examiner/ Read about it! Terrible murder in church belfry! The police have arrested Durant I Read about it!" ... Buffalo Bill and his Wild West Show in a sand lot in the Mission, with the stupendous spectacle of the Johnstown

4

flood ... Rabbi Voorsanger marching down Sutter Street to his Saturday morning pulpit, coattails flying in the wind, black beard flying in the wind, smoke from his huge black cigar wreathing his face . . . Fire drill at the Pacific Heights School, with small boys falling out of line to run across the street and buy candy "brownies" at "Ossie's," the stationer's ... Rosie Murdock, at Polytechnic High School, arguing with her most stubborn pupil: "Every time I ask you to draw a pretty picture you draw a funny picture. That's not art! I just don't know what to do with you, Rube Goldberg!" ... The organ-grinder in Alta Plaza Park playing "Sweet Rosie O'Grady" and "Santa Lucia" ... John Tait, standing in the entrance of his Van Ness Avenue restaurant after the earthquake and fire, beaming and offering California champagne to the two bitter rival French champagne merchants, Ned Greenway and Dick Hotaling ... Sunset softly glowing on the windows of Old St. Mary's Church, and the character on the steps whispering, "Just one dollar for a trip through the mysteries of Chinatown. You'll see the slave girls, the opium dens, and the underground gambling hells all for one dollar" . . . Blue-painted fishing boats putting out from Fisherman's Wharf at three in the morning, while an Italian girl and an Italian boy sit on the wharf, legs dangling, and sing "Torna a Sorrento" . . . Teddy Roosevelt grinning, displaying his teeth, addressing two hundred fifty thousand San Franciscans in the colonnade of the Court of Nations at the 1915 Exposition ...

s

Teddy Roosevelt, Jr., living with his wife on Pacific Avenue and confiding to me that San Francisco is the greatest city in the world and, even if his father protests, he intends to stay here the rest of his life ... Lincoln Park when it was a nine-hole golf course and the ninth hole was a straight drop of five hundred feet to a green at the ocean's edge directly beneath the eighth hole ... In 18¢, the sister of a famous artist riding down Market Street on a bicycle, scandalizing the city by riding into the Palm Court of the Palace Hotel-wearing bloomers I . . . Mascagni conducting the premiere of Cavalleria Rusticana ••• Carriages circling around the music stand in Golden Gate Park while the band plays the "Semiramide Overture" ... The fog pouring through the Golden Gate at daybreak ... Sunlight at sunset on the windows of Buena Vista Heights ... The dolorous call of the foghorn on Alcatraz Island at night ... Moonlight on Telegraph Hill, and children dancing a saraband of shadows with a hillside goat . . . Rain pouring down the California Street hill and rushing in pools through Chinatown alleys, reflecting the lights of lanterns and torches hanging above fruit stands and rawmeat stands and racks of skinned chickens . . . The white waves beating their endless din on the rocks of Land's End ... The perfume of lavender and heliotrope and lemon verbena and geraniums in a thousand gardens . . .

6

In the tumbling, dancing patterns of the kaleidoscope, time has no meaning, and the figures are figures of a hundred years. Just yesterday it was John Charles Thomas, swinging down the steps of the Bohemian Club, whistling for a cab; and seventy years ago it was "White Hat" McCarthy, strutting through the courts of the Palace Hotel, bowing right and left to people who had no idea who he was ... Here was old John Newbegin, sitting at the iron stove in the back of his Sutter Street bookstore, grumbling, "There are only two books worth reading-Bobbie Burns and the Bible.". . . And there was heavy, old Mo Gunst, sitting in his upholstered chair in the lobby of the St. Francis Hotel, day after day, year after year, his gnarled hands resting on the handle of his cane. And if you were of the uninitiate and, finding the chair empty, started to sit in it, a discreet bellhop would come up and whisper, "Sorry, sir. That chair is reserved for Mr. Gunst." Mo Gunst, whose little cigar stand on Kearny Street was the political hub of the city where the men who made the city and ran the city gathered and became known as the Cigarette Boys. And that shop became the nucleus of a great national chain ... "Kanaka" Davis, sitting in the warm sunshine of Mission Dolores, drinking mellow red wine with the padres and telling them of his dreams when, in r84o, he saw a great metropolis spread across the sand dunes of Yerba Buena ... William Chapman Ralston-Bill Ralston-driving his coach-and-six out the old Mission Road and down the Peninsula to his fabulous mansion in Belmont. And on the box, his uniformed hornsman sounding the long, brass coach trumpet to the delight of pursuing little boys . . . Bret

7

Harte, clumping down the steps of his small flat, a manuscript under his arm, shouting at his wife that he would never write another word, that no one appreciated art I And his wife grimly shouting after him, "Very well, Frank. Never write another word. But remember, I've got to eat even if you don't!" The manuscript was The Luck of Roaring Camp •..

And Herman Heller, plump, shining-faced, hair growing thin, mounting the podium before a Sunday morning moving-picture audience, announcing, "For the first time in history you will see your moving picture displayed before your eyes while a great symphony orchestra plays" ... Ferde Grofe playing a honkey-tonk piano on the Barbary Coast ... George Mardikian, huge, red-faced, and most beloved of San Francisco's epicurean chefs, shouting down all bidders and buying tens of thousands of dollars of war bonds to possess a captured Japanese trophy ... Little Gertrude Atherton, eighty-eight years old and pretty as an oldfashioned picture, bobbing into the Mechanics' Library and demanding, "Have you got my newest book, and if not why not?" ... Two little Italian boys and two little Chinese girls dancing the conga in Portsmouth Square where R.L.S. once dreamed ... An aged, white-haired Negro, sitting on his heels in Union Square, feeding popcorn to hundreds of pigeons •.. Joseph Henry Jackson, author and literary critic, leading a barbershop quartet in "Sweet Molly Malone" ... A Greek bootblack on Taylor Street quoting Shakespeare ... Gump's windows on Post Street with precious carvings from the Temples of Ankhor Thorn ... Dr. Margaret Chung, Chinese woman physician, playing

8

host to ten thousand aviators ... A sailor, sitting on the edge of the Embarcadero wharf, playing Cesar Franck's D-Minor Symphony on a harmonica ... Diamond Jim Brady ordering six dozen oysters on the half-shell in the Palace Hotel ... Tessie Wall drinking a double magnum of Cliquot at Marchand's ... A blind, old Englishman selling sweet lavender on Geary Street ... Heavenly-voiced choirboys from Grace Cathedral coming out on Sacramento Street in their vestm~nts to play-one foot across the gutter . . . Doddering old men pitching horseshoes in Golden Gate Park ... A portly magnate from Montgomery Street and a tart from Pine Street playing "Keno" at the beach ... Young boys and young girls, and middle-aged men and young girls, parked in cars above Land's End ... A sign in a Telegraph Hill window: "Midwife." And in the window a stout Italian woman singing "Caro Nome" ... Sailors rowing girls in tiny boats on Stow Lake ... A thousand daffodils in the windows of Podesta and Baldocchi . . . Alfred Hertz playing bridge at the Argonaut Club and humming Tristan and Isolde ... It is gray and quiet in San Francisco at dawn. In summer the fogs billow through the Golden Gate, moisture-laden and cold, anti in winter the sun comes red and swaggering over the Berkeley hills. It is a gray city, a city of gray houses and gray streets, and yet every hour brings new color, new choregraphy of lights and shadows to the gulches and valleys and steep ravines and towering cliffs that are the city's streets. A gay, colorful, gray, eager city of men-this is the kaleidoscope of San Francisco.

9

PART ONE

THE DAYS OF GOLD

I

Sam BrannarL Historians disagree about him in almost every way, save for the choice of the qualifying word-"fabulous." They call him the most fabulous, the most fantastic, and, by the same favor, the most typical of San Francisco's pioneers. Thus far they agree, but from then on there is dissension. They call him a saint, they call him a scoundrel; they call him the man who made the city great, and the worst grafter the city has ever known. They call him a great mind, and an ignorant charlatan. They tell how he came West in the name of the Lord, and brought with him an army of servants of the Lord, and charged the servants a heavy tax in the name of the Lord. And, when some remonstrated and said, "But this money yotl are collec.ting is not really being given to the Lord," then he said, "Go and tell [Brigham] Young that I'll give up the money when he sends me a receipt signed by the Lord." The young man was Sam Brannan.

IO

He came to San Francisco-to Yerba Buena as it was then called-in r846. He brought with him an antiquated printing press, and some two hundred fifty Latter-day Saints, and a complete flour mill. He traveled around the Horn to the Sandwich Islands, in the Islands armed his Saints with one hundred fifty rifles, and then set sail for the Golden Gate and Yerba Buena to create a great Mormon empire, on the shores of San Francisco Bay. Now, at just about the time that Sam embarked on his pilgrimage, Brigham Young was leading a far greater army of Latter-day Saints across the Rockies and, coming upon beautiful Salt Lake Valley, uttered his immortal "This is the place!" And so Salt Lake City and not San Francisco became the heart of the Mormon empire. Serenely unaware of the proclamation of Brigham Young, Sam Brannan and his followers-whom he had charged a handsome penny for the voyage-sailed through the Golden Gate. They saw, as they rounded into the Bay, a tiny cluster of frame houses and a hill-Telegraph Hill-with an American flag instead of the colors of Mexico flying atop it. And standing on the deck of his chartered ship, the Brooklyn, Brannan roundly cursed, cursed not because he did not love the American flag-for he was a true patriot-but because he had dreamed of being the first to raise the Stars and Stripes over Yerba Buena. Captain John B. Montgomery of the sloop-of-war Portsmouth had beaten him by twenty days. The ship dropped anchor and Sam Brannan went ashore. He was greeted by the entire population, a population outnumbered by the two hundred fifty Mormon newcomers. They saw a huge, broad-shouldered man with heavy sideburns and beard, flashing black eyes, elegant garments, a II

swaggering walk-a man who did not at all look the elder of a church. But church elder or gambler-and Sam Brannan was both-they greeted him as they greeted all newcomers, by initiating him into their membership. They took him to the Plaza, blindfolded him, turned him around three times, and made bets as to how long it would take him to walk to a signpost in the middle of the Plaza. Brannan commenced his blindfolded march. At the corner of Clay and Kearny streets there was a large pool of slime formed by the mixing of clay and water to make adobe bricks. Into the pool marched Elder Brannan and wallowed in the mud up to his ears. And out he came, laughing a great, jovial laugh, wiping the mud from his mouth and ears. And then and there he was accepted, not as a saint but, as one of the historians of his day aptly put it, as "one of the boys." Climbing out of the mud puddle into which he had plunged, Brannan immediately plunged into the muddled affairs of the village. A young couple wanted to be married. Brannan arranged the wedding, the wedding feast and celebration, and performed the first non-Catholic wedding ceremony in California, the first wedding under the American flag in San Francisco. Brannan swiftly achieved a reputation for "firsts." He delivered in California the first sermon in the English language and the first non-Catholic sermon and was also the first defendant in a court of law under the American flag. In this court case the Mormon association brought charges of misuse of funds. A hung jury resulted in Brannan's release. All that ended the power of the Mormons in San Francisco, and ended Brannan's standing in the Church of Latter-day Saints. But, having collected a considerable amount of money, 12

Sam found new affairs to occupy his mind. He landed his flour mill, started its wheels turning, the first in California. He found a wooden house back of the Old Adobe in which he established his wife and children and his printing press, and almost immediately started the press rolling. So he founded San Francisco's first newspaper, The California Star. Shortly after the Mormons' arrival there was an alarm in the village, one of the periodic alarms caused by imaginary attacks by the Spanish Californians. Brannan's Mormon Battalion sprang to attention, armed with the Sandwich Island rifles. A few shots were fired under cover of night. The next morning the valiant Mormons went out to pick up the dead bodies and found the bullets had all found their mark-ina clump of scrub oaks. A short time later there was a loud explosion in the village. This time it was unquestionably the Spanish Californians, invasion bent. Out came the Mormons, guns primed for trouble. The explosion proved to be of a coffeepot in the just-established City Hotel. That ended the martial adventures of the Mormon Battalion. San Francisco was occupied by Americans without interference from the dispossessed Spanish Californians, much to the disappointment of the Americans. And the Mormon Battalion went out of existence. Brannan went ahead on his own. His paper proclaimed the need of a public school. The first public school was founded, and Sam made the first contribution to it. Then he extended his operations, made a journey to the fort of John Augustus Sutter on the Sacramento River, opened a store in the village of Sacramento, and became an intimate friend of John Augustus. That was in November of 1847.

In January of 1848 gold was discovered in Sutter's millrace and Sam, with the instincts of the true newspaperman, started out to tell the world of the discovery. Sutter pleaded against it; to tell of the discovery of gold would bring hordes of gold-hungry men to destroy the agricultural empire Sutter was building. But Brannan shook him off, shouting, "Gold! Gold!" Nothing else was talked of. The little settlements of a few hundred men went gold-mad. And whenever the excitement threatened to calm down, Sam Brannan would beat the drums and the gold fever would rise again. Wearing a beaver hat, coattails flying behind him, he dashed through the muddy roadway of Montgomery Street, waving a bottle of gold dust over his head and shrieking at the top of his lungs, "Gold! Gold! Gold from the American River!" He led a cavalcade out of the village and up the river to the gold fields. On the day that Sam Brannan left San Francisco, the population that stayed behind consisted of seven men. Overnight his store in Sacramento began to coin money. An advance guard began to pour into San Francisco, and there Sam sold them newspapers and calico and sugar and coffee and flour and beans-and sand lots. But so far the newcomers were only harbingers of what was to come. Gold was discovered in January; the word did not reach New York until August. Then the mad rush began, the rush that historians call the greatest pilgrimage in all the history of man. And Sam Brannan was its herald, its prophet, its spider, its pitchman. As he shouted and beat tin pans and made money, so his fame spread until he was, beyond question of doubt, the best-known man in the new metropolis. The best-known man! When strangers wanted advice

on the law, on property values, on the best place to buy a pair of boots, or the name of the firm in China to which they should send their laundry, they went to Sam Brannan. There used to be a vendor of pies who shouted his wares at the corner of Montgomery and Sacramento streets. His cry was "Mince pies, apple pies, cheese pies! Everybody buys 'em! Sam Brannan buys 'em!" Wealth piled up as Brannan's fame increased. He made millions; he was San Francisco's first millionaire. And, with the grand gesture-because he always loved the grand gesture-he gave away money as easily as he made it. He gave one piece of property to the Odd Fellows for a cemetery that in comparatively recent years was appraised at a half-million dollars. He gave generously to individual widows and orphans, in some cases giving them monthly endowments throughout their lives-or at least the life of his fortune. (But that is another and a later story.) He gave parties at the new hotels springing up in the city, and thought nothing of spending a thousand dollars a night to entertain his friends. He counted his friends by the thousands, and as for his enemies-well, Sam Brannan, Mormon elder, gambler, profligate spender, real estate boomer, newspaper publisher, flour-mill master, and bon vivant-Sam Brannan had only one class of enemy-the lawless. They had come to San Francisco, the lawbreakers, like rats on a spree. The first contingent called itself the Bowery Boys-renegades from Tammany Hall. Later-comers formed groups; one lot, the Hounds, was sworn to hound foreigners -especially Spanish Americans-away from the rich lands the true and noble Americans now owned. They paraded the streets in ragtag uniforms and made general nuisances of themselves. They robbed merchants, raped women, and

smashed and burned property. The scandals and the stories were deplorable, and they reached their climax when the word was passed that marauding Hounds had murdered a mother who was trying to protect her daughter from them. That was the act that set off the powder keg. The powder keg in this case was a barrel rolled to the corner of Clay and Montgomery streets. Sam Brannan mounted it, rage in his eyes and fire and profound emotion and fearless courage in his voice. He denounced the scoundrels and denounced the alcalde who had been afraid to take action against the Hounds. The crowds gathered and cheered and screamed for revenge, and Brannan led them, roaring, to the alcalde's office. And there, on the roof of the shack, in a brilliant declaration Sam Brannan denounced lawlessness and proclaimed that if there was no law adequate to combat lawlessness then the decent citizens would have to take the law into their own hands. So, the first Committee of Safety was born, and Sam Brannan was its sire. But that was only the beginning. There were vigilantes, but this was 1849; the real vigilance committee was yet to come. The first organized Committee of Vigilance was established in June of 1851 in Sam Brannan's office. He was its first president, and he saw to it that its work was doneand well done. Owing chiefly to Hounds-incited incendiaries out for plunder and spoil, San Francisco had been gutted by fire five times in the year before the vigilance committee was organized. It was burned a sixth time in that June of 1851, and that was the city's last great conflagration-until 19 s64, 571,574-75 Kirkpatrick, John, 217 Kittredge, Charmian, 664-67 Knights of the Golden Circle, 362 Kreling, Joseph, 462 Kreling, Mrs. Joseph, 462,467 Larkin, Thomas, 289 Lawrence, Gertrude, 204, 627 LeSage, Alain Rene, 545 Leahy, William H. ("Doc"), 461, 467-68,532,533,540 Lee, Jim, 554-58 Leese,Jacob,29, 254 Leidesdorff, William A., 283-92 Leonard, Eddie, 128 Levison, J. B., 6os-6

Lewis, Billy, 394 Lewis, Oscar, 195, 350 Lick, James, 62-68,255 Lind, Jenny, 296,314 "Little Egypt," 4, 633, 692 London, Jack, r69-72, 185-86, 359, 394, 427-28, 481, 624-25, 652-68 London, John, 654,662 Lotta's Fountain, 121-22, 127, 540,687 Lunt's Dancing School, 436 McAllisters, the Hall, 281,439 McCarthy, P. H., 540 McCarthy, "White Hat," 261 McConnell, Reason E., roo McCoy, William, 509 McCullough, John, 439 McDougal, John, 50 Mcintyre and Heath, 128 McLaren, John, 206-r2 MacKay, John W., 104,258,352, 6r2 Macguire, Thomas, 33, 73, So, I29-30,257,293-30I,490,64J Maguire's Opera House, 73-74 Mardikian,George,2r3-19 Mariposa Battalion, 50-53 Marlowe, Julia, 624 Martinez, Xavier, r86, 215 Maurier, George Du, 332 Mayfield Grange, 278

A1azeppa,69-70,73-74 Mechanics' Chess Club, 203 Mechanics Library, 439, 569-70, 59 1 Meiggs, Henry, 263-72,274 Meiggs Wharf, 268, 274 Melba, Nellie, 205, 298, 538, 625,643

Melville, Emily, r26, 465,469,489 Mencken,fi.L.,r88-89 Menken, Adah Isaacs, 69-76 Mercantile Library, 439 Merchants' ffotel, 31 Metropolitan Theater, 257, 330 Meyerfeldt, fferbert, 470 Miller, Joaquin, 74, 171, 173, 177,

42 7 Mills, D. 0., 349 Mitchell, Esmah, 644, 646-47 Montez, Lola, 41, 123-24,257 Monumental Engine Company, 2I, 23 Moran, Father, 55 I-54 Morosco, Leslie, 643-47 Morosco, Oliver, 642-51 Morosco, Walter, 644-48 Morse, ffarry, 95, I o I Morse, Salmi, 299-300 Murdock, Rosey, 593-96 Murietta, Joaquin, 577 Newbegin, John, 7, 248 Newton, Dwight, 592 Newell, Robert Henry, 74-75 News-Letter, San Francisco, 175 Nielsen, Adelaide, I 56 Nielsen, Alice, 466 Nielsen, Christine, 436 Nob ffill, I04, I09-IO Norris Alister Ball Company, 483 Norris, Charles G., 483 Norris, Frank, 4, 200,395,437, 480-87,624,696 North American Diamond Mines, 374 Norton, Joshua Abraham ("Emperor"), I36-43, 257,259, 343·359.574 Oakland ffigh School, 653, 659

708

O'Brien, William Shoney, 38,258, 352,603-I4 Ocean Side ffouse, 441 O'Neill, Eugene, 41,205,299 O'Neill, James, 41, 149,205,299, 643 O'Neill, Nance, 457,623-24 Oofty Goofty, 40,43-45,259 Ortori, Leonida, 466 Osbourne,Fanny,r59-64 Osbourne, Lloyd, I6o-64 Overland Monthly, 662 Pacific Temperance ffotel, 145 Pacific Union Club, ro8, 142-43 Palace ffotel, 259, 537-38, 6r6, 635,697 Panama-Pacific International Exposition, 572-74 Parsons, Judge Levi, I 13-14 Paseo, El, 407 Passion Play, The, 299 Patten, B. A., 6o9 Patti, Adelina, 298, 438, 643 Pavlova, Anna, 494, 627 Peixotto, Ernest, 485 Pena, Jose, 503 Peters, Charles Rollo, I86, 215 Philadelphia ffouse, 32 Philharmonic Society, 267-68 Philosopher's Inn, I99, 200 Pickett, William, I65-66 Picos, Father, 500 Pictures of Old Chinatown, 621 Piggott, Miss, 390 Plaisted, Gracie, 435,466,469 Polytechnic High School, 557, 59I-53 1-44,699 Tevis, Lloyd, 383, 417 Thomas, John Charles, 7 Tivoli Opera House, 242, 435, 461-69,480,532,537,540 Tobin, Richard, 104 Tobin, Robert, 38 Torello, Emil, 467 Torello, William, 466 Towne mansion, 39, 109,417 Turk Street, 644 Turnbull, Walter, 438 Twain, Mark, 168, 172-73,427 Vallejo, (;uadalupe Mariano, 289 Van Ness Avenue, 641 Van Ness, Mayor, 325 Van Vleck, Maria, 593--96,602 Vigilance Societies, 16, 38, 297, 361' 609 Villa, Pancho, 178 Vioget, Jean Jacques, 255-56 Von Schroeder, Heinrich, 618-19 Walker, William, III-19 Warde, Frederick, 475 Ware, Thomas, 94-95, 101 Warner's Cobweb Palace, 268 Washington Market, 32 Washington Street, 610-11 Webb, Teddy, 4 Weill, Raphael, 2r8 Wellman, Flora, 654 Wells Fargo Building, 95--96,98, IOO-IOI Wells, Sam, r 30 West, Billy, 128 Wheat, Carl, 401

Whiteman, Paul, 493 White House, The, 257 Whitsell, Leon, 401 Wigwam,242 Wilbur, Mabel, 471 "Wild Man From Borneo," 42-43 Williams, Bert, 129 Williams, Tom, 384 Williams, Virgil, 440, 485 Wilson, Harry Leon, 625 Woodward, R. B., 441

Woodward's Gardens, 645-47 Woodworth, Selim, 365 Wool, John, 114-15 Wurdemann, Audrey, r8o-8r Yellow Jacket Mine, 90 Yerba Buena, 11,47-48,63 Yosemite Valley, 52 Young, Brigham, ro-r r Yung, Mr., 417,419,423-24 Zinkand's, 221

711