Society as I Have Found It
could not do much studying whilst flirting and going to balls and
dinners, I went South to my native city, took up the second volume of
Blackstone, committed it to memory, passed an examination, and was
admitted to the bar by one of our ex-ministers to Austria, then a judge.
Blackstone did not wholly absorb all my time that winter. I exercised my
memory in the morning and indulged my imagination of an afternoon,
breathing soft words to lovely Southern maidens, in the piney groves
which surround that charming city. From time immemorial they had always
given these on Valentine’s Eve a Valentine party. I was tempted to go to
the one given that year. And as I entered the house a basketful of
sealed envelopes was handed me, one of which I took; on breaking the
seal, I found on the card the name of a brilliant, charming young woman,
whom I then had a right to claim as my partner for the evening, but to
whom I must bend the knee, and express interest and devotion to her in a
species of poetical rhapsody. As all the young men were to go through
the same ordeal, it was less embarrassing. From the time of entering the
ball-room until the late hour at which supper was served, the guests in
the crowded rooms were laughing over the sight of each young man
dropping on one knee before his partner and presenting her with a
bouquet of flowers, and in low and tender words pouring out his soul in
poetry. When it came my turn, I secured a cushion and down I went, the
young woman laughing immoderately; but I, not in the least perturbed,
grasping my bouquet of flowers with one hand and placing my other hand
over my heart, looking into the depths of her lovely eyes, addressed to
her these words:
“These flowers, dear lady, unto thee I bring,
With hopes as timid as the dawning spring,
Which oft repelled by many a chilling blast
Still trusts its offerings may succeed at last.
Receive thou, emblem of the rosy spring,
Charmer of life, of every earthly thing,
These flowers, which lovely as the tints of morn
Yet ne’er can hope thy beauty to adorn.
Oh, may they plead for one who never knew
Perfection’s image till he met with you;
Oh, may their fragrance to thy heart convey
How much he would, but does not dare to say.”
In the mean time, while I was dancing and reciting poetry to beautiful
women, my generous brother was rapidly making money at the bar in San
Francisco, and urging my father and me to leave Georgia and go to him,
writing that he was making more money in two months’ practice than my
father received in a year. This to my conservative parent seemed
incredible; he shook his head, saying to me, “It is hard for an old tree
to take root in a new soil.” His friends of the Savannah bar ridiculed
his entertaining the notion of leaving Georgia, where his father had
been a Judge of the Superior Court of that State; he himself had been
United States District Attorney, for years had presided over the Georgia
Senate, had been nominated for Governor of the State, and for a lifetime
had been at the head of the Georgia bar. Always a Union man, opposing
Nullification, he was beloved by the people of his State, and his law
practice was then most lucrative. The idea of his pulling up stakes and
going to the outposts of civilization seemed absurd. He would not
entertain the thought; he laughed at my brother’s Arabian Nights stories
of his law firm in San Francisco making money at the rate of $100,000 a
year. But just here, my father’s purpose was suddenly shaken, by my
brother’s remitting to me a large amount of money in gold dust, and he,
my father, being then paid five thousand dollars by the Bank of the
State of Georgia for an argument made for them before the United States
Supreme Court at Washington. My gold dust was tangible evidence of my
brother’s success, and as continual dropping wears away a stone, so by
continual pleading I at last persuaded him to take me to California.
Mournfully he sold our old homestead and sadly closed up his Savannah
law office, and with me, on the 13th of May, 1850, left for San
Francisco, where in two years he made a comfortable fortune, retired
from practice and went to Europe. My brother Hall’s motto was, “Ten
millions or nothing.” He made himself, to my certain knowledge, two
comfortable fortunes. Grand speculations to double my father’s fortune
very soon made inroads in it, and the dear old gentleman to save a
remnant returned to this country. As he expressed himself to me,
“California must have a Circuit Judge of the United States. I will get
our Democratic Congress to pass a bill to this effect, and will myself
return to California as its United States Circuit Judge. I do not care
to return to the practice of law when I reach San Francisco, where, I
expect to find that, like the ‘fruit of the Dead Sea,’ my little
competency will turn into ashes at the touch. Being on the Bench, I
shall at least have a support”; all of which he carried out to the
letter, and he died devoted to the people of the State of California.
Imagine me then, a well-fed man, with always an appreciative appetite,
learning, on my arrival in San Francisco, that eggs, without which I
could not breakfast, cost $2 apiece, a fowl $8, a turkey $16. One week’s
mess bill for my breakfast and dinner alone was $225, and one visit to
my doctor cost me $50. Gloom settled upon me, until my noble parent
requested me to bring back to the office our first retainer (for I was
then a member of my father and brother’s law firm). It was $4000 in gold
ounces. I put it in a bag and lugged it to the office, and as I laid
them ounce by ounce on my father’s desk, he danced a pirouette, for he
was as jolly an old fellow as ever lived. I went to work at once in
earnest; it struck me that in that country it was “root, pig, or die.”
My first purchase was a desk, which combined the qualities of bed and
desk. How well I remember the rats playing hide-and-seek over me at
night, and over the large barrel of English Brown Stout that I invested
in and placed in the entry to console myself with. After six months’
hard work, I began to ease up, and feel rich. I built a small house for
myself, the front entry 4 × 4, the back entry the same, one dining-room
12 × 14, and one bedroom, same dimensions. My furniture, just from
Paris, was acajou and white and blue horsehair. My bed-quilt cost me
$250; it was a lovely Chinese floss silk shawl. An Indian chief, calling
to see me, found me in bed, and was so delighted with the blankets that
he seized hold of them and exclaimed, “_Quanto pesos?_” (How much did
they cost?)
My first row as a householder was with my neighbor, a Texan. I found my
yard fence, if put up, would close up the windows and front door of his
house. We had an interview. He, with strong adjectives, assured me that
he would blow out my brains if I put up that fence. I asked him in
reply, where he kept his private burying ground. All men then went armed
day and night. For two years I slept with a revolver under my pillow.
With a strong force of men the next day, I put up the fence, and the
Texan moved out and sold his lot. As our firm was then making $100,000 a
year, our senior partner, my father, asked me to entertain, for the
firm, our distinguished European clients, as he himself had not the time
to do so. His injunction to me was, “Be sure, my boy, that you always
invite nice people.” I had heard that my dear old father had on more
than one occasion gotten off a witticism on me as follows: Being told
how well his son kept house, he replied, “Yes, he keeps everything but
the Ten Commandments,” so I assured him if he would honor me with his
presence I would have to meet him every respectable woman in the city,
and I kept my word. Before we reached the turkey, my guests had so
thoroughly dined that when it appeared, the handsomest woman in the room
heaved a deep sigh and exclaimed, “Oh, that I might have some of it for
lunch to-morrow!” Such dinners as I then gave, I have never seen
surpassed anywhere. It is needless to say that my father was intensely
gratified. We had, tempted by exaggerated accounts of the gold fields,
French cooks who received $6000 a year as salary. The turkey, costly as
it was at $16, always came on table with its feathered tail intact, and
as eggs were so expensive, _omelette soufflée_ was always the dish at
dessert. Two years was the length of my stay in San Francisco.
On reaching New York in 1852, from California, I found great objection
made to my return there as a married man, and gracefully yielded to
circumstances. Though loath to give up my profession of the law, I was
forced to make this sacrifice; so the moment I concluded to give up
California and the legal profession, not wishing to be idle, I went to
Washington and applied to the President for the position of Secretary of
Legation in England. The Georgia, South Carolina, Virginia, and
California delegations urged me for this appointment; Mr. Buchanan was
going to England as Minister. He was a warm friend of my father’s, and,
when approached, expressed not only willingness but gratification at
having the son of an old friend as his Secretary of Legation, and I was
to have had the position. But just at this time, my father, who had
returned from Europe, wished to obtain from President Pierce the
appointment of Circuit Judge of the United States for the State of
California. He came to me and stated the case as follows: “My boy,” he
said, “the President says he cannot give two appointments to one family.
If you go to England as Buchanan’s Secretary, President Pierce cannot
make me Circuit Judge of California.” “Enough said,” I replied, “I yield
with pleasure. I will go abroad, but not in the diplomatic service.”
Passing the winter in Washington, I soon learned how to ingratiate
myself with the law-makers of our country. Good dinners and wine were
always effective. And as I had the friendship of the California, New
York and Southern delegations, I was dining out all the time, invited by
one man or other who had an axe to grind. On these occasions, there was
always a room prepared to receive a guest who had indulged too freely in
strong waters. Men then drank in good earnest, a striking contrast to
the days in which we now live, when really, at dinner, people only taste
wine, but do not drink it. I was then placed on the Committee of
Management for the Inaugural Ball, and did good service and learned much
from my Washington winter.
An amusing incident I must here relate. Quietly breakfasting and
chatting with a beautiful woman, then a bride, who had lived for years
in Washington as a widow, she asked me if I was going to Corcoran’s
ball that evening, and on my replying, “Yes, of course I was,” she
requested me to accompany her husband and self, which I did. On entering
Mr. Corcoran’s ball room with her on my arm, I noticed that the old
gentleman bowed very stiffly to us; however, I paid no attention to this
and went on dancing, and escorting through the rooms my fair partner,
from whom I had no sooner been separated than my host slapped me on the
shoulder with, “My dear young man, I know you did not know it, but the
lady you have just had on your arm is not only not a guest of mine, but
this morning I positively refused to send her an invitation to this
ball.” Fortunately I had brought letters to this distinguished man, so
seeing my annoyance, he patted me on the shoulder and said, “My boy,
this is not an unusual occurrence in this city; but let it be a warning
to you to take care hereafter whom you bring to a friend’s house.”
INTRODUCTION TO LONDON SPORTS.
CHAPTER III.
_Introduction to London Sports--A Dog Fight in the