shape of a list of nominees for the various offices; but Paul K. Hubbs objected to it. He said that his objection was not specially to the names of nominees but to the manner of the appointment of the committee, which was not in accordance with the time-honored usages of the Democratic party. He therefore offered a series of resolutions to the effect that the meeting recognized and would maintain the Democratic doctrine that the people were the true sovereigns of political power, from whom alone could emanate the nomination of candidates for office, and that accordingly an election should be held for delegates to a nominating convention or, in other words, that instead of accepting a ticket from a committee appointed by the chairman of a meeting, there should be a primary election and a ticket made by delegates properly elected. On vote these resolutions were adopted; and a primary election called for Monday, October 29, 1849. The further proceedings of the meeting consisted of the adoption of a pledge to support the ticket to be nominated; a pledge to vote for no man who did not favor homestead exemption, and a pledge to vote for an Atlantic and Pacific railroad through United States territory in preference to any other. And finally, on motion of Jonathan D. Stevenson, who had moved the homestead exemption and railroad pledges, a vote of thanks was tendered to Thomas H. Benton for his support to California and his advocacy of a transcontinental railroad.'

In accordance with Hubbs' resolution a primary election was held and ticket nominated. And so too in other parts of the country, tickets were put forward. The election came off on November 13, 1849, at which the question of the adoption of the constitution was submitted as well as the names of candidates for state offices. It was an election in which the electors in general knew very little of the questions that were presented or of the candidates they were voting for or against. Absurd prejudices and cranky notions of various kinds had much to do with the vote. On the Mokelumne river, for instance, a candidate lost twenty votes because he had shown himself a few days previously wearing a high-crowned silk-hat with a narrow brim. 'Alta California, November 1, 1849; Annals of San Francisco, 236.

Some of the miners would go no further than to vote for persons they actually knew; and under these circumstances, of course, they voted for very few persons. But on the other hand many voted without knowing or caring much to make inquiry. The native Californians and the Mexicans, who had become citizens by operation of the treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo, voted with quite as little consideration. They considered it an extraordinary privilege to be allowed to vote at all; and it therefore made very little difference to them what a ticket was: they were proud to vote and would vote any ticket that was put into their hands. The most curious case, however, was that of a man who, as he said, "went it blind." In justification he gave the following explanation. "When I left home, I was determined to 'go it blind.' I went it blind in coming to California and I am not going to stop now. I voted for the constitution and I have never seen the constitution. I voted for all the candidates and I don't know one of them. I am going it blind all through-I am." It can hardly be said, however, notwithstanding these glimpses into the reasons that actuated some of the voters of 1849, that they voted in general with less intelligence than the voters of to-day. It cannot be said, for instance, that any of the defeated candidates were better than those elected, though it may with truth be said that some were worse. But be that as it may, the constitution, as has already been shown, was adopted by a nearly unanimous vote, and Burnett was elected governor, not indeed by a majority but by a handsome plurality over any other candidate.

Meanwhile, in May, 1849, Burnett's family having arrived in San Francisco from Oregon, he had removed from Sacramento to that place and in the early part of June became a member of the so-called legislative assembly of San Francisco and took a leading part in its proceedings. In August he moved with his family to San José, which had been declared the capital by the constitution; and he resided there at the time of his election to, and during his incumbency of, the office of governor. The main facts in reference to his administration as governor have already been related. Fortunately most of the Bayard Taylor's El Dorado, 252, 253.

statutes, passed at the first session of the legislature and which he approved, were excellent: otherwise much harm might have been done. As Burnett afterwards said, he could not give proper attention to them. They came into his hands so rapidly at the end of the session that it was physically impossible for him to read them all within the time allowed; and he therefore referred some to the secretary of state and some to his private secretary and approved them upon their recommendation.'

While the legislature was thus engaged in forming its code of statutory law at San José, the state was continuing to make rapid strides of advancement and improvement in almost all directions; and in the meanwhile politics was becoming more and more a factor in the life of the people and attracting more and more of their attention and interest. On March 9, 1850 there took place at San Francisco what may be called the second grand Democratic mass-meeting in California. Other inconsiderable political meetings, both Whig and Democratic, had occurred; but this was intended to be a grand affair, having for its object the uniting and harmonizing of all the conflicting Democratic elements and making out of the dominant party one family with mutual objects and fraternal ties. The meeting was called to take place in the afternoon on Portsmouth Square. About a thousand persons assembled around a platform built next the flag-staff. A band of music discoursed excellent melody, and a magnificently large and brightly-colored star-spangled banner waved overhead. Wilson Shannon was chosen chairman of the meeting and a committee appointed to draft resolutions. For a while the proceedings evoked great enthusiasm; and addresses by several well-known speakers were received with much applause. But when the committee on resolutions presented its report, there was uproar and confusion. The resolutions were in the usual intensely patriotic and unselfish form and substance; but, when they were put to a vote, it appeared that there was a very large dissatisfied and factious element present, which objected and became boisterous. In taking the vote so much noise was made that the chairman was unable to determine which side had the majority. At this the uproar 1 Burnett's Recollections, 319-340, 346–349, 361.

redoubled and in various quarters blows were indulged in. There was in fact what was known among the professionals as a "general scrimmage," in which broken heads and bloody noses played a principal part. But at length a show of order was restored and again the chairman submitted the resolutions for approval. A storm of "ayes" rang out; but when the "noes" were called they were quite as loud and noisy as the ayes. A second time the chairman was unable to decide. He then called upon those in favor of the resolutions to hold up their right hands; and it appeared as if there were more hands raised than there were voters. At this it was suggested that the "Whigs" had created all the difficulty and, as the meeting was designed to be a Democratic love-feast, they were politely requested to withdraw. The result was that about one-half the assembly moved off; and, as they turned around and saw their unexpectedly large numbers, they commenced hurrahing for themselves and whirling their hats in triumph about their heads. This being taken as a challenge, the remaining half of the assembly rushed, with the force of a torrent, upon the retiring forces and swept them temporarily off the field. Upon their return, it was deemed expedient to adjourn the meeting, which was accordingly done with three cheers for the Democratic party.1

The reason of the strife and of the bitterness with which it was waged soon became, if it was not already, apparent. It was not any difference between the two parties or in the principles advocated by different wings of the Democratic party. But it was clearly a question of spoils and the prospect of directly or indirectly fattening upon them. A person who held any kind of an office in San Francisco had a sort of Fortunatus' purse, from which he could always draw and always find full. On May 1, as has already been stated, the first city charter was adopted and first city election held; and soon afterwards the new municipal government was inaugurated. The city council had, however, hardly entered upon their offices, when, as has been seen, they almost unanimously passed an ordinance providing that most of the municipal officers should be paid an annual salary of ten thousand dollars each and the councilmen, sixteen in all, six 1Annals of San Francisco, 267-269.

thousand dollars each. These sums indicated the objects for which the offices were sought; but they were so ridiculously extravagant, particularly in reference to the councilmen, that the community rose in indignation and compelled a modification and afterwards at the next session of the legislature in 1851 procured the passage of a new charter, an important and original feature of which was that members of the common council should not be entitled to any compensation for their services or, in other words, should serve for honor and not for spoils.'

Though there was much in the California of those days, which might justify its being called in some respects a scene of frantic confusion, there was much also that entitled it to be called glorious, unparalleled, unapproachable. It is true that life was a lottery, business wild, amusements unrestrained and speculation desperate; fortunes made in a day were often lost or squandered as quickly as they had been gained; on every side there was the insatiable spirit of gain; and at the same time there were gambling, midnight orgies, reckless daring, miserable abiding places, physical discomforts, vice, folly, violence, crime, brutal desires and ruinous habits. A large portion of the community had collected from the remotest parts of the earth, and commingled all ranks and grades of society, to win in the fierce fight for fortune or perish in the struggle. The condition of affairs was such as to constitute what some observers termed a general "hell" of all sorts of people. But at the same time hope was boundless; and there never before was so much energy and life in a vast body of men. There was doubtless much wickedness; but there was also much virtue in the better sense of that term. The shadows were deep; but the lights were correspondingly bright.'

In the midst of the swirl, Burnett preserved his integrity. One of his great desires was to pay the debts, which he had contracted as a young man in his unfortunate mercantile transactions in Tennessee and Missouri; and by care and economy he was enabled to do so. Few other men ever went so far in this respect or carried the spirit of honesty, under the circumstances, to such

1Annals of San Francisco, 278–281.

2See Annals of San Francisco, 508.