had a general mess, and the efforts at house-keeping were simply
ludicrous. One servant after another, whom General Smith had
brought from New Orleans, with a solemn promise to stand by him for
one whole year, deserted without a word of notice or explanation,
and in a few days none remained but little Isaac. The ladies had
no maid or attendants; and the general, commanding all the mighty
forces of the United States on the Pacific coast, had to scratch to
get one good meal a day for his family! He was a gentleman of fine
social qualities, genial and gentle, and joked at every thing.
Poor Mrs. Smith and Mrs. Ogden did not bear it so philosophically.
Gibbs, Fitzgerald, and I, could cruise around and find a meal,
which cost three dollars, at some of the many restaurants which had
sprung up out of red-wood boards and cotton lining; but the general
and ladies could not go out, for ladies were rara aves at that day
in California. Isaac was cook, chamber-maid, and everything,
thoughtless of himself, and struggling, out of the slimmest means,
to compound a breakfast for a large and hungry family. Breakfast
would be announced any time between ten and twelve, and dinner
according to circumstances. Many a time have I seen General Smith,
with a can of preserved meat in his hands, going toward the house,
take off his hat on meeting a negro, and, on being asked the reason
of his politeness, he would answer that they were the only real
gentlemen in California. I confess that the fidelity of Colonel
Mason's boy "Aaron," and of General Smith's boy "Isaac," at a time
when every white man laughed at promises as something made to be
broken, has given me a kindly feeling of respect for the negroes,
and makes me hope that they will find an honorable "status" in the
jumble of affairs in which we now live.

That was a dull hard winter in San Francisco; the rains were heavy,