CHAPTER XXIV.

Before I leave California, I must give you a sketch of John Chinaman,--not the Johns in general, but a particular John, who lived in the Tremont Hotel as a chamber servant for more than a year. He could talk good broken English, was quick in his motions, and very neat. I liked John better than any other of the chamber servants, he was so faithful. Often I would be so amused at his remarks, that I would have to stop, and laugh heartily. Then he would look _so_ perplexed, and say, “What you laughee so for, Missa Bessa?” He invariably called the name Bates, Bessa.

He had been in California four years, during all of which time he had been out to service, never receiving less than one hundred dollars per month. He had about three thousand dollars out at interest, for which he received three per cent. a month. He was very penurious, never indulging in any luxury, save most excellent tea, which he kept for his own private use.

Sometimes, when I would be sick, he would come to my door, bringing a cup of his tea, and say, “You drinkee this, Missa Bessa; make you well quick.” He placed implicit faith in the healing properties of his tea.

His money, his tea, and his cue were his especial delight. Days when he would have a great deal to do, engaging his time until late in the evening, he would never retire, however tired he might be, without first combing, oiling, and braiding his cue. This he kept coiled around on the top of his head; and, instead of keeping the remaining portion of his pate shaved, as they generally do, he allowed it to grow, and kept it cut, after the fashion of the Americans. When he had his hat upon his head, one would never suppose he had a cue. He was the best-looking Chinaman I ever saw, and came from Ningpo.

Upon first arriving in California, he went as house servant to Senator Gwin. Afterwards, he lived with a Mr. Peck. He would say sometimes, “Only three very good ladees in Californee.”--“Who are those, John?”--“Missa Gwina, Missa Pecka, and Missa Bessa. Missa Gwina, she one very good ladee; she talkee, laughee, all day long, eat watermelon, drink champagne; she one very good ladee.” John seemed to estimate the qualifications of Mrs. Gwin by the quantity of good and expensive things which she ate and drank. Watermelons were twelve dollars apiece, and champagne ten dollars per bottle. Then he would say, “Missa Pecka one very good ladee, but she too fatter. Missa Bessa, she no too fatter; she too smallee, too sickee (sometimes I would have ill turns); she go home to her mudder; me go too. She too smallee; I be her servant.” He seemed very much attached to me, and was always ready and willing to wait upon me.

One day, he was very unceremoniously rushed into matrimony. The particulars of this hurried marriage were as follows: John was one day passing along one of the streets occupied mostly by Chinese, when his ears were assailed with horrid screams which issued from a building near by. He burst in the door, which was fastened, and there found a Canton Chinaman unmercifully beating one of his slaves, a young girl of about sixteen years. John, who was very tender-hearted, could not bear to see that; so he knocked down the Chinaman, took the girl, whom he never saw until then, and ran with her to the hotel, and wanted me to secrete her in my room. It appears there is an almost deadly feud existing between the Canton and Ningpo Chinamen. As soon as the Canton Chinaman recovered himself sufficiently to realize what had happened, he collected about thirty of his partisans, and started to arrest John for assaulting him, and carrying off his slave.

This was apprehended by the people at the hotel, who all felt very much interested for John. They told him, in order to prevent the girl from being taken back by her cruel master, he must marry her. Then he could retain her as his wife; but could not be sustained in secreting away another’s slave. To this arrangement John readily acquiesced, and was hurried off to an esquire; an interpreter obtained,--for the bride elect could not articulate one word of English,--and the ceremony commenced. When John was asked if he would take that woman to be his wedded wife, his reply was, “Yes, me takee her: me lovee her; she lovee me. Canton Chinaman no get her, no whipee her. Me be good to her; take good care of her. She be my little wife!” And he ran on with such a tirade, they thought they should never check him.

They were married before her master found her; and therefore he never recovered his slave. John had a small house in the back yard of the hotel, and in it he placed his wife. She was not domestic at all, and there she sat with her hands folded, when not engaged in embroidering. And there I left them when I started for the States.

Most of the washing and ironing in California is performed by Chinamen. They take the clothes to the rivers, and beat them on stones and boards, which they place in particular positions. Their clothes-lines are stretched all along the banks of the river. After the articles are dry, they take them to their houses to iron. They starch every article, even to sheets and pillow-slips. Their mode of ironing is entirely different from anything I ever before saw. They have a copper vessel, shaped like a sauce-pan, and large enough to hold about two quarts of coal. The bottom of this vessel is very thick, and highly polished. They fill it with burning coal; then take hold of the handle, and shove it back and forth over the articles.

They have a dish of water standing beside them, to which they put their mouths, and draw up such a quantity of the water, that their cheeks are inflated to their utmost capacity. All the while they are shoving this vessel back and forth, they are blowing the water out of their mouths, which falls like spray upon the garment, and renders it of an equal dampness. They iron very smoothly, and the clothes have a beautiful polish. For ironing dresses, they have differently shaped sauce-pans. They wear out the clothes very much beating them so; and it is almost dangerous to stand in the vicinity of their washing resorts, the shirt-buttons fly so like hail-stones.

There is a place, a little out from San Francisco, called Washerwoman’s Bay, where the Chinamen take all the clothes from the city to wash. I once took a walk out there; and, before I came in sight of the bay, I heard the noise occasioned by the clothes being thrashed so unmercifully. While I stood listening, not well assured of the cause of that peculiar noise, a gentleman appeared, coming in the direction from whence the sounds proceeded. I asked him what that noise was. Said he, “You are in close proximity to Washerwoman’s Bay; and I would advise you to go no farther, if you value your life; for the shirt-buttons are flying so thick, and with such velocity, it is really dangerous to go too near.”

A short time before I left Marysville, the city was visited by another conflagration, which came very near destroying the Tremont Hotel. It occurred between ten and eleven o’clock, one Sunday. The fire originated in the square directly opposite the hotel; and, what wind there was being fair to bring it directly to the house, the greatest consternation prevailed. The ladies were all dressed to attend church. They commenced packing their things, and throwing them out the doors and windows. The proprietor ordered every woollen blanket in the house to be produced, wet thoroughly, and then nailed them all over that part of the house most exposed to the flames. One part of the building had a flat roof, upon which barrels of water were kept standing, also a number of pails. This roof was covered with people, passing and throwing water to prevent ignition.

While this was going on outside, the people were rushing in, and removing beds and furniture. In their haste to remove large pieces, they tore down partitions, and otherwise injured the house; breaking out windows, sash and all, to eject some piece of furniture. Individuals who had been boarding in the house, and had not deposited their money in the safe, ran to their trunks, took it out, and gave it to me for safe keeping. I had my pockets so filled with gold and gold dust, it was really burthensome to move about. The most valuable things were removed out on the plains, and I stood guard over them; for they required strict watching, there were so many standing round, ready to take anything they could lay their hands upon. Several times the roof of the hotel was on fire; but, by the strenuous exertions of the people, it was extinguished. The flames were darting over and around it, yet the building was preserved, at the risk, almost, of their own lives. The proprietor’s face was scorched quite badly, as he was ever in the van; and where the most danger was, there he was sure to be seen. The building was saved; but what a looking house to return to! Every part ran with mud and water; the partitions were demolished, and windows broken; all the blankets which belonged upon the beds, wet and dirty on the outside of the house. But they soon dried; and that night, by ten o’clock, there were beds ready to accommodate a hundred persons. How we all worked! I never recollect being so tired, before or since, as I was that night. When I left Marysville, the old hotel was standing in all its pristine beauty. It had withstood all the fires which had visited Marysville during the space of three years; but I had only been at home three months, when tidings reached me that it was burned to the ground.