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China (China) (search for this): chapter 16
16: San Francisco. Closing the passage by the Golden Gate, a city of white houses, spires, and pinnacles rises from the water-line, and rolling backward over flat and sand rift, strikes a headland on the right, and surging up two hills, creams round their sides, and runs in foam towards yet more distant heights. This city is San Francisco, seen from the ferry-boat; a port and town with ships and steamers, wharves and docks, in which the flags of every nation under heaven, from England to China, flutter on the breeze; a town of banks, hotels, and magazines, of stock exchanges, mining companies, and agricultural shows; a town of learned professors, eminent physicians, able editors, and distinguished advocates; a town of gamblers, harlots, rowdies, thieves; a refuge for all tongues and peoples, from the Saxon to the Dyak, from the Tartar to the Celt. Lovely the city is; striking in site, brilliant in colour, picturesque in form. The rolling ground throws up a hundred shafts and s
Oakland (California, United States) (search for this): chapter 16
strike our roots. Not that our progress is what people think — a wonder of the earth. Considering what advantages we boast of soil and climate, mines and harbours, our advance is slow. Yes, slow. We are not overtaking Chicago and St. Louis, still less Philadelphia and New York. Still we have shot ahead beyond our strength, and suffer from the fevers and languors of a youth who grows too fast. Our railroad gave us fits. You smile! The fact is so. No sooner were the first cars seen in Oakland, than a rage of speculation broke along the Bay. The world, we thought, was coming to our coasts. Where would the people live ? Why not provide them tenements and make a profit by the enterprise? We bought estates, we cut down forests, and we laid out cities, for the millions who were coming to our coasts. At every opening on the Bay, you see these visionary towns, with phantom streets and squares, chapels and theatres, schools and prisons. But the millions never came, and for the las
Mexico (Mexico) (search for this): chapter 16
ings of these mines, the silver veins run up a gulch to Gold Hill, where they strike on beds of still more precious ore. Owned by rival companies, the mines are wrought on different plans. Much ore is found, and till a year ago owners of Ophir, Mexican, and Consolidated Virginia, had every reason to be satisfied with their gains. Of late, the yield of Mount Davidson has fallen off. The veins run deeper in the rock, needing more costly engines and more skilful labour. Prices have been depressn Ophir, Crown Point, and Yellow Jacket, but who can swear that veins of pure and solid silver do not run through all the Comstock mines? A miner of experience has been heard to say that every part of Mount Davidson is equally rich. Then up go Mexican, Ophir, Crown Point, Yellow Jacket. Mines still further off take fire, as one may say, and blaze like burning stars around these central suns. In six weeks everybody in San Francisco is rich and mad. Eager for money, still more eager for ex
Nevada (Nevada, United States) (search for this): chapter 16
t development in the Comstock lode. Most persons in San Francisco are votaries of chance. Luck is their god. Credulous as an Indian, reckless as a Mexican, the lower order of San Franciscans puts his trust in men unknown and builds his hope on things unseen. Thousands of persons in this city, otherwise passing for sane, believe in this development, and are sinking all that they have saved by years of thrift in the several Comstock mines. The Comstock lode lies on Mount Davidson, in Nevada; though the mines are chiefly owned by San Franciscans. Some of these mines, such as the Ophir and the Mexican, have been worked for twenty years. The silver veins are long; four or five miles in length; but as no one has yet traced them out, their value is an unknown figure. From the stores of Virginia, built around the openings of these mines, the silver veins run up a gulch to Gold Hill, where they strike on beds of still more precious ore. Owned by rival companies, the mines are wrough
Chicago (Illinois, United States) (search for this): chapter 16
o own mines. Five or six magnates of finance in San Francisco are said to have got one-third of those fifty million dollars under lock and key. Our fortunes kill us, says a sage at the Pacific Club. A slower rate of growth would suit us better; giving us more time to strike our roots. Not that our progress is what people think — a wonder of the earth. Considering what advantages we boast of soil and climate, mines and harbours, our advance is slow. Yes, slow. We are not overtaking Chicago and St. Louis, still less Philadelphia and New York. Still we have shot ahead beyond our strength, and suffer from the fevers and languors of a youth who grows too fast. Our railroad gave us fits. You smile! The fact is so. No sooner were the first cars seen in Oakland, than a rage of speculation broke along the Bay. The world, we thought, was coming to our coasts. Where would the people live ? Why not provide them tenements and make a profit by the enterprise? We bought estates, we
Mount Davidson (Nevada, United States) (search for this): chapter 16
for sane, believe in this development, and are sinking all that they have saved by years of thrift in the several Comstock mines. The Comstock lode lies on Mount Davidson, in Nevada; though the mines are chiefly owned by San Franciscans. Some of these mines, such as the Ophir and the Mexican, have been worked for twenty yearse is found, and till a year ago owners of Ophir, Mexican, and Consolidated Virginia, had every reason to be satisfied with their gains. Of late, the yield of Mount Davidson has fallen off. The veins run deeper in the rock, needing more costly engines and more skilful labour. Prices have been depressed, and thrifty persons have bt who can swear that veins of pure and solid silver do not run through all the Comstock mines? A miner of experience has been heard to say that every part of Mount Davidson is equally rich. Then up go Mexican, Ophir, Crown Point, Yellow Jacket. Mines still further off take fire, as one may say, and blaze like burning stars arou
San Francisco (California, United States) (search for this): chapter 16
Chapter 16: San Francisco. Closing the passage by the Golden Gate, a city of white houses, spds yet more distant heights. This city is San Francisco, seen from the ferry-boat; a port and townt in the Comstock lode. Most persons in San Francisco are votaries of chance. Luck is their godetty dealers whom they mean to fleece. In San Francisco every one is used to changes in the price of order, if no higher rule prevails. In San Francisco, a few rich men, consisting of the variouse central suns. In six weeks everybody in San Francisco is rich and mad. Eager for money, still within a dozen years, a craze has come on San Francisco, like the phrenzy which consumes her now. mines. Five or six magnates of finance in San Francisco are said to have got one-third of those fie, and for the last five years each man in San Francisco has been carrying a dead city on his back.reckless spirit than that in which the White men of San Francisco are gambling with their wealth.
Venice (Italy) (search for this): chapter 16
g in site, brilliant in colour, picturesque in form. The rolling ground throws up a hundred shafts and spires against the sky. A joss-house here, a synagogue there, suggest an oriental town. The houses, mostly white, have balconies adorned with semi-tropical plants, among which flit the witching female shapes. A stream of sunshine lies on painted wall and metalled roof. But one has hardly time to note the details of this outward beauty. You would scarcely have an eye for nice effects in Venice, if you chanced to enter that city while the doge's palace and cathedral were on fire. This city is in one of her high fevers; her disease a great development in the Comstock lode. Most persons in San Francisco are votaries of chance. Luck is their god. Credulous as an Indian, reckless as a Mexican, the lower order of San Franciscans puts his trust in men unknown and builds his hope on things unseen. Thousands of persons in this city, otherwise passing for sane, believe in this deve
Sharon (Massachusetts, United States) (search for this): chapter 16
ny purpose, hardly caring whether the report be true or false. Like brandy in his veins, he feels the devilry that comes with sudden gain and loss. Here is no old and steady middle class, with decent habits, born in the bone and nurtured on the hearth; people who pay their debts, walk soberly to church, and keep the ten commandments, for the sake of order, if no higher rule prevails. In San Francisco, a few rich men, consisting of the various rings, are very rich. Lick, Latham, Hayward, Sharon, are marked five million dollars each. Reese, Ralston, Baldwin, Jones, and Lux are marked still moreseven millions, ten millions, twelve millions each. Flood and Fair, Mackey and O'Brien are said to be richer still. The poor are very poor; not in the sense of Seven Dials and Five Points; yet poor in having little and craving much. A pauper wants to get money, and to get this money in the quickest time. Cards, dice, and share-lists serve him, each in turn. He yearns to be Lick or Ralsto
Gold Hill, Storey County, Nevada (Nevada, United States) (search for this): chapter 16
ved by years of thrift in the several Comstock mines. The Comstock lode lies on Mount Davidson, in Nevada; though the mines are chiefly owned by San Franciscans. Some of these mines, such as the Ophir and the Mexican, have been worked for twenty years. The silver veins are long; four or five miles in length; but as no one has yet traced them out, their value is an unknown figure. From the stores of Virginia, built around the openings of these mines, the silver veins run up a gulch to Gold Hill, where they strike on beds of still more precious ore. Owned by rival companies, the mines are wrought on different plans. Much ore is found, and till a year ago owners of Ophir, Mexican, and Consolidated Virginia, had every reason to be satisfied with their gains. Of late, the yield of Mount Davidson has fallen off. The veins run deeper in the rock, needing more costly engines and more skilful labour. Prices have been depressed, and thrifty persons have been laying up their dollars in
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