Overland through Asia; Pictures of Siberian, Chinese, and Tartar | Page 8

steamed as calmly and with as little
motion as upon a narrow lake. Sometimes there was no sensation to
indicate we were moving at all.
[Illustration: SLIGHTLY MONOTONOUS.]
Even varied by glimpses of the Mexican coast, the occasional
appearance of a whale with its column of water thrown high into the air,

and the sportive action of schools of porpoises which is constantly met
with, the passage was slightly monotonous. On the twenty-third day
from New York we ended the voyage at San Francisco.
On arriving in California I was surprised at the number of old
acquaintances I encountered. When leaving New York I could think of
only two or three persons I knew in San Francisco, but I met at least a
dozen before being on shore twelve hours. Through these individuals, I
became known to many others, by a rapidity of introduction almost
bewildering. Californians are among the most genial and hospitable
people in America, and there is no part of our republic where a stranger
receives a kinder and more cordial greeting. There is no Eastern iciness
of manner, or dignified indifference at San Francisco. Residents of the
Pacific coast have told me that when visiting their old homes they feel
as if dropped into a refrigerator. After learning the customs of the
Occident, one can fully appreciate the sensations of a returned
Californian.
[Illustration: MONTGOMERY STREET IN HOLIDAY DRESS.]
Montgomery street, the great avenue of San Francisco, is not surpassed
any where on the continent in the variety of physiognomy it presents.
There are men from all parts of America, and there is no lack of
European representatives. China has many delegates, and Japan also
claims a place. There are merchants of all grades and conditions, and
professional and unprofessional men of every variety, with a long array
of miscellaneous characters. Commerce, mining, agriculture, and
manufactures, are all represented. At the wharves there are ships of all
nations. A traveler would find little difficulty, if he so willed it, in
sailing away to Greenland's icy mountains or India's coral strand. The
cosmopolitan character of San Francisco is the first thing that impresses
a visitor. Almost from one stand-point he may see the church, the
synagogue, and the pagoda. The mosque is by no means impossible in
the future.
[Illustration: SAN FRANCISCO, 1848.]
In 1848, San Francisco was a village of little importance. The city

commenced in '49, and fifteen years later it claimed a population of a
hundred and twenty thousand.[B] No one who looks at this city, would
suppose it still in its minority. The architecture is substantial and
elegant; the hotels vie with those of New York in expense and luxury;
the streets present both good and bad pavements and are well
gridironed with railways; houses, stores, shops, wharves, all indicate a
permanent and prosperous community. There are gas-works and
foundries and factories, as in older communities. There are the Mission
Mills, making the warmest blankets in the world, from the wool of the
California sheep. There are the fruit and market gardens whose
products have a Brobdignagian character. There are the immense stores
of wine from California vineyards that are already competing with
those of France and Germany. There are--I may as well stop now, since
I cannot tell half the story in the limits of this chapter.
[Footnote B: I made many notes with a view to publishing two or three
chapters upon California. I have relinquished this design, partly on
account of the un-Siberian character of the Golden State, and partly
because much that I had written is covered by the excellent book
"Beyond the Mississippi," by Albert D. Richardson, my friend and
associate for several years. The particulars of his death by assassination
are familiar to many readers.]
[Illustration: CHINESE DINNER.]
During my stay in California, I visited the principal gold, copper, and
quicksilver mines in the state, not omitting the famous or infamous
Mariposa tract. In company with Mr. Burlingame and General Van
Valkenburg, our ministers to China and Japan, I made an excursion to
the Yosemite Valley, and the Big Tree Grove. With the same
gentlemen I went over the then completed portion of the railway which
now unites the Atlantic with the Pacific coast, and attended the banquet
given by the Chinese merchants of San Francisco to the ambassadors
on the eve of their departure. A Chinese dinner, served with Chinese
customs;--it was a prelude to the Asiatic life toward which my journey
led me.
I arrived in San Francisco on the thirteenth of April and expected to sail

for Asia within a month. One thing after another delayed us, until we
began to fear that we should never get away. For more than six weeks
the time of departure was kept a few days ahead and regularly
postponed. First,