Weekly Trinity journal., 1857-04-18
Ten Years Ago.

Dt,
Sabbath morning as this is We took an early
breakfast in one of the dilapida.ed rooms in the
old barracks at the Preside, and started with a
dear friend, for morning walk, to the then little
village of Yerba Buena, the now hourishinr city
of San Francisco. Then the fields along the road
side were green with the springing grass, which
the later rains had freshened, and the golden
headed California poppy and the modest little
strawberry flower, dotted them with yellow and
with white. From out the thickets which skrted
the roadside, scared rabbit now and then ran
across the pathway, and tmdly hid in the bushes
on the other side. For the whole distance from
the Pesidio to where now is about the corner of
Union and Powell streets, there was not a single
house. the first one we reached on our journey to
the village. being the little adobe establishment
of Dona Juana BriOnes which still stands as a
relic OF the early days of Yerba Buena. The
laguna lay lonely and still by the pathway, and
on its surface ducks were padding, fearless of
gun or pistol. No squatters' had fenced in the
hills-no gardens were planted in the valleys,
and but few of the signs of civilization greeted
our eyes and ears during the delightful, refresh
ing, nvigorating walk of three miles on that beau
tiful, sunny Sabbath morning.
When we reached the summit OF Russian Hill.'
where three crosses marked the graves of the
buried Russians, who gave the hill its name, the
broad and placid bay broke upon our view
Riding at anchor in it, were only three large
VesSels-One u SlOOp-Ol war, ana the others, TWO
of the transport ships which brought portion of
of the regiment of New York Volunteers to Cali
tornia. No long piers stretched out into the
water-no steamers we're putting their way across
it. On the opposite side. rose the green Contra
Costa hills, but no smiling pretty towns were
grown up on that side of the bay In looking
down upon Yerba Buena, the most prominent
buildings were the old adobe Custom House
standing on the plaza, before which, on lofty
pole, the flag of our country was waving in the
breeze of the morning. A little collection of
some twenty houses was before us and no lofty
church spires rose into the ar-no Sabbath bells
were ringing, and down the hill side as far as
where Dupont street now runs, a thick growth of
the brilliantly green-leaved scrub oak grew
through which we made our way to the village
Arrived there, the only place of gathering was
the old City Hotel, which then stood where now
is the corner of Clay and Kearncy streets and
where rickety billiard table and a bar at which
liquors of not the choicest description were dealt
out, formed the principal attraction. Around its
doorway stood dozen California steeds, with
their clumsy saddle trappngs. and muchHlds and
wooden esfri5os, and mounted on each one a ma
tive, with his shoulders covered with a scrape
with spurs on his heels half foot in length, and
q paper cigar in his mouth Inside were dozen
or so officers of the army and navy, drinking
whiskcy and playing billiards. or indulgng in
the more exciting games of poker or monte
lot extending to Montgomery street, with but
two houses upon it-one on Washington street,
little below the corner OF kearney, and the other |
at the junction of Montgomery and Clay. The
waters Of the bay came up to lave the lower side .
of Montgomery street. and the tide ebbed and
flowed there.
Ten years ago! And life has been weaving its
web since then, and what changes time has
wrought. The dear friend who was our com
panoa on that mornings walk. lies beneath the
green grass in the cemetery of Yerba Buena. His
eager, earnest manly eyes, through which the
fires of genius were flashing. were dimmed in
death ere he permitted to witness the realZa-
tion OF those golden dreams. in which we indulged
as we rested on the brow of Russian HILL Peace
be with his spirit. God never made a nobler,
better. manlier man.
And through the experience of these long ten
years. we have been blessed with life and with
health. By the bivouc fire, and in the camp on
the weary, dreary marches through the sands and
cactus clumps of Lower California and amid the
rafting and the clattering of musket balls
and then, through the cold snowy winter of 1918.
among the golden hills, by the side of the frozen
streams, searching for the new-found gold
through all the trials and the adventures of this
wild California life, we have bnen preserved by
the blessing Of Providence by the kind and pa
rental care of Him whose broad hand of protcc-
tiOn is stretched us all. from the rising of
the sun to the going down of the same'-to this
lovely Sabbath morning, ten years later than the
time when Ierba Buena and its vicinity presented
such picture rs we have imperfectly drawn.
We need not tell of the changes which have
taken place on the ground where we now stand |
The lofty substantial buildings, the broad streets,
the church spires, the heightened piers, the noble
ships-al tell the tale better than we can do it !;
all stand here as signs and symbols of what en-
terprise, energy and perseverance will accomplish |
We will not rehearse the tale, but to day we shall
climb again to the summit of Russian Hill, and .
there, from MS near the spot as we can find where
we sat down to rests on that Sabbath morning, !
ten years ago, shall take look at San Francisco
as she ls, and endeavor to call up in our mind s
eye view Of her as she was when we rested there
then. conversing with that dear friend who sleeps
within the sacred precincts of Gods acre. .'-fHa
California.