University of Virginia Library

RETURN OF THE COLLECTOR.

THRILLING AND FRANTIC EXCITEMENT AMONG OFFICE-SEEKERS.
PROCESSION AND SPEECH.

Intelligence having reached the city yesterday morning
that the new Collector might be expected by the Sophie
from Stockton, at an early hour in the afternoon the crowd
of office-seekers began to assemble, and by eight o'clock
last evening, every avenue of approach to Long Wharf was
entirely closed, and the wharf itself so densely packed with
human beings, that the merchants and others compelled to
resort thither, were obliged to step from the corner of Montgomery
and Commercial streets upon the heads of the
crowd, and proceed to their places of business over a living
pavement. Much suffering having been caused by the passage
of loaded drays and other carriages over the shoulders
of the crowd, and many serious accidents having occurred
to individuals—among which we can only notice the unfortunate

case of a plethoric elderly gentleman, who, slipping
on a glazed hat, fell down and broke himself somewhere—
our worthy Mayor, ever alive to the calls of humanity,
throwing aside all political prejudice, caused plank to be
laid over the heads of the assembly from Sansome street to
the extremity of the wharf, which in a great measure alleviated
their suffering.

There was no fighting or disorder among the crowd, for
so closely were they packed that no man could move a
finger; one unfortunate individual who at an early stage of
the proceedings had inadvertently raised his arm above his
head, remained with it immutably fixed in that position.
Like an East Indian Fakir, who had taken a vow to point
for ever toward heaven, that melancholy hand was seen for
hours directed towards the nearest bonded warehouse.
Some idea of the amiable feeling existing among the multitude
may be gathered from the statement of Capt. J.—
B—, familiarly known as “Truthful James.” He informs
me that early this morning the keeper of a restaurant on
the wharf picked up no less than seven hundred and eighty-four
ears and three peck baskets full of mutilated fragments!
To use the words of James, as with horror-stricken countenance
he made me this communication, “they had been
chawed sir! actilly chawed off!” Such orrible barbarity
makes humanity shudder! But I forbear comment, the
business of your reporter is to state facts, not to indulge in
sentiment.

At half-past nine o'clock an electric shock ran through

the vast assemblage at the well-known sound of the Sophie's
bell. All the agony and suffering of the past few hours was
forgotten: for an instant Long Wharf quivered like an aspen
leaf, and then rose to heaven a mighty shout, which shook
every building in the city to its foundations. The Sophie
approached the wharf, the Collector and her other passengers
disembarked, and in a few moments a procession was
formed and proceeded in the following order to the
Oriental.

THE NEW COLLECTOR,

In a carriage drawn by two horses, lashed to their
utmost speed, tearing along Battery strect towards the
Hotel.

All the male inhabitants of Stockton (except one reckless
and despairing old Whig, who, knowing he had no
chance, and being confined to his bed by sickness, remained
behind to take charge of the city) running eight abreast, at
the top of their speed.

THE POLICE OF SAN FRANCISCO,

On a dead run, and much blown.

Candidates for office in the Custom House who had known
the Collector in his early youth, ten abreast, bearing a banner
with the following motto: “Don't you remember the
path where we met, long, long ago?”

A fire company, who had inadvertently turned into

Battery street, were driven furiously along with the procession,
and were wondering how the d—l they were ever to
get out of it.

Candidates for office who had lately become acquainted
with the Collector, twelve abreast.

Banner—“We saw him but a moment, but methinks
we've got him now.”

Candidates who fervently wished to the Lord they could
get acquainted with him.

Candidates who had frequently heard of him—forty-five
abreast.

THE U. S. ARMY,

Consisting of a discharged sergeant of the 9th infantry
slightly inebriated, one abreast, desiring the Deputy Collectorship,
or the Porterage, or that the Collector would give
him four bits—didn't care a d—n which.

MUSIC,

By an unhappy dog, trodden under foot by the crowd
and giving vent to the most unearthly yells.

All the members of the Democratic party in California
who did not wish for an office in the Custom House, consisting
of a fortunate miner who had made his pile and was
going home on the first of the month.

Gentlemen who had the promise of appointments from
influential friends, and were sure of getting them, walking

arm in arm with gentlemen without distinction of party,
who were confident of drawing the Diamond watch in
Reeve's Lottery. This part of the procession was four
hours in passing a given point.

M. L. WINN,

Bearing in his right hand a pole from which floated a
Bill of Fare three hundred and twenty-six feet in length,
and in his left, a buckwheat cake glittering with golden
syrup.

MR. BRANCH,

Supporting the other extremity of the Bill of Fare.

CITIZENS GENERALLY,

The procession having moved with great rapidity, soon
arrived at the Oriental, but not as soon as the Collector,
who rushing hastily into his room, locked and barricaded
the door, having previously instructed the Landlord to inform
all persons who might inquire for him, that he was
dead. Meanwhile the multitude had completely surrounded
the hotel, and signified their impatience and disgust at finding
the doors, closed by angry roars, uttered at half-second
intervals. Finding their cries disregarded, a sudden movement
took place among them, and for a few moments I
feared the hotel was to be carried by storm, when a window
on Bush street opened, and a gentleman, whom the darkness

of the evening prevented my completely identifying, but who,
I religiously believe to have been the Collector, appeared,
and amid the most profound silence, made the following
beautiful and touching address: “Gentlemen—I wish to
God you would all go to bed; you have worried and annoyed
me beyond endurance. I am not to be caught by you as
was General Scott, for I actually have no time to remove
any portion of my clothing. I do not love brogue; I beseech
you, therefore, to retire and allow me a little repose.”
The address here concluded with some allusion to the Deity
and a reference to the eyes of the crowd, which being pronounced
indistinctly, your reporter was not able entirely
to comprehend, and with a sudden slam the window closed.

The scene without now beggared description: roars,
yells, frantic cries for “ladders!” “ladders!” rent the air.
Within the hotel all was alarm and confusion—the ladies
screamed, children cried, the alarmed proprietor spoke of
sending for the Mary Ann Rifles, when—the scene suddenly
changed. Upon the piazza of the house appeared a gentleman,
walking slowly with his hands in the pockets of a shawl
dressing-gown; he wore a brown wig, and an enormous pair
of false whiskers framed his well-rouged cheeks. In a word,
he was dressed in the character of Sir Harcourt Courtly.
Turning slowly towards the crowd, he withdrew one hand
from the pocket of the shawl dressing-gown, and slowly and
awkwardly extending it, said:—“Cool!” It was sufficient.
For an instant, a shudder ran through the mob—then, with
cries of “It's him! it's Greene!” they broke and dispersed

in every direction—up Bush and down Battery, through
Stockton street and over the sand-hills, they fled like frightened
deer. The earth seemed to have opened and swallowed
them up, so sudden and complete was the dispersion. In
one moment, where stood a mob of fifteen thousand, remained
but two individuals. Above, with a sidelong bow
and melancholy smile, slowly retired Sir Harcourt, and on
the earth below, with open mouth and distended eyes, his
admiring gaze fixed upon that extraordinary man with
reverential awe, stood