CHAPTER XIV.

Stephen J. Field-A Wonderful Life Story-Vicissitudes and Trials and “Hairbreadth 'Scapes"-Collisions with the Bench-Expulsion from the Bar, and Reinstatement— Extraordinary Scenes in Court and Legislature-Duel with Judge Barbour-Relations with David C. Broderick-Legislative and Judicial Record-Amusing Incidents and Anecdotes, and a Capital Sensation-References to Leading Men of the Past and Present, with A Glance at the Early Marysville Bar.

It pleased my friend, Judge Robert Thompson, of San Francisco, after reading all of the preceding chapters, to say that their interest was heightened by variety of style, no two being alike in this respect. Whether or not the present narrative shall deserve to be included in this judgment, it will be found to signally eclipse all others in crisis and adventure.

The Rev. David D. Field, an eminent New England divine, who died about the year 1862, lived to see five sons attain enviable distinction. These were David Dudley Field, the great bar leader of New York, who is still in his professional harness at the age (in 1887) of eighty-two years; Cyrus West Field, who brought Europe and America to speaking terms with the electric current; Jonathan Field, once president of the Massachusetts State Senate; Stephen Johnson Field, the jurist, and Henry Martyn Field, who like his father, reached eminence in the pulpit, and who, in addition to his clerical duties, has for many years conducted and edited the New York Evangelist. "One o'er another rose their heads in tiers, Steps for their father's honorable years.'

All of these are living except Jonathan. The stock is Puritan. It will be seen hereafter, however, how entirely exempted is Judge Field from all that is puritanic, using that word in its popular sense.

Judge Field was born in Haddam, Connecticut, November 4, 1816. His grandfathers on both sides were American army officers in the revolution. This reminds me of an expression which fell from a would-be statesman of San Francisco, on the stump, when trying to persuade the people to send him to Congress a second time. Laboring to convey the idea that his ancestors on both sides had fought in the Revolutionary army, he said: "My forefathers fought and bled in the Revolutionary war on both sides. They fought at Brandywine on one side, and at Yorktown on the other side." He was not re-elected.

Rev. Dr. Field removed from Connecticut to Massachusetts and settled at Stockbridge, when his son Stephen was but three years old. Ten years later, Stephen accepted an invitation from Rev. Mr. Brewer and wife,

missionaries to the Levant, to go with them to the scene of their future labors. Mrs. Brewer was his sister, and her invitation being emphasized by the advice of his father and his eldest brother, he sailed with the missionary couple December 10, 1829, and arrived at Smyrna, February 5, 1829. He was abroad two and a half years, passing his time at Smyrna, Athens and other famous cities which had survived buried empires, visiting also the islands of the Grecian Archipelago. He acquired the modern Greek, and a fair knowledge of the French, Italian and Turkish tongues. His brother David had advised him to this course with a view to seeking a chair in an American university as Professor of Oriental Languages and Literature. He was in Smyrna when the city was visited by a fearful plague in 1831. In the fall of that year the cholera came upon the city. Mr. Brewer displayed signal courage and devotion in that trying period, going all over the place, visiting the sick, giving spiritual consolation and also the material help of medicines with which he kept his pockets filled. Young Stephen followed him wherever he went, also a medicine bearer.

Having been thrown in contact while abroad with people of many religious creeds and faiths, all of which presented to his eye evidences of sincerity in belief, as well as of humanity and true devotion, the boy returned home with his hold upon Puritanism entirely loosened. He had been taught, for so his parents thoroughly believed, that the New England Puritans had the only true religion. He now concluded that there was other food for the soul, and ever since, his early conclusion being strengthened by mature reflection, he has shown a lofty tolerance in religious matters. In tracing his career and noting the exceptional activity, courage and persistence which marked it, it would seem proper to call him a greater man, if not a greater lawyer, than his eminent elder brother. He has struggled against greater disadvantages, he has overcome more stupendous obstacles, he has accomplished more difficult undertakings, he has risen to a more enduring fame.

Entering Williams College in 1833, he won the highest honors, delivering the Greek oration in the junior exhibition, and the valedictory, upon his graduation in 1837. In the following spring he became a law student in his brother David's office in New York City. He was admitted to practice in 1841-the period of his study in law having been broken for a time by his service as a teacher in the Albany Female Academy. Even there he improved his spare moments and obtained assistance in his law studies from his brother's friend, John Van Buren, then Attorney General. As soon as admitted to the bar his brother received him as a partner, and they had a cordial business and brotherly union of seven years.

When the Mexican war broke out, David Dudley Field strongly advised his young brother to go to California. He, David, had made himself familiar

with the geography and even the political history of the Pacific coast, and had contributed to the Democratic Review two articles on the "Oregon Question." [See Democratic Review for June, 1845, and November of that year.] In conversation with his brother Stephen about the probable results of the war, he said: "If I were a young man I would go to San Francisco. I am satisfied that peace will never be concluded without our acquiring San Francisco harbor, and I believe a great city will spring up there." He was not aware, probably, that the foremost man of the nation (in political power), the President of the United States, was of the same opinion. I had it from Charles T. Botts, who came here from Virginia in 1849, and who had, before coming, an interview with President Polk, that the President declared privately that he would not consent to any treaty of peace between the United States and Mexico, and that all the influence of his high office would be exerted against a peace, unless it was a peace that gave us California.

Impressed, as he always was, with his brother's advice, the young lawyer determined to first make a visit to Europe. So, dissolving the partnership, he crossed the Atlantic in June, 1848. In December of that year in Paris, he heard of the discovery of gold in California. This country had come under the American flag. He at once concluded to visit it, but remained in Europe, sightseeing, for about nine months, then returned to New York. It was now October 1, 1849, and six weeks later he sailed for California by the way of Panama. He arrived in San Francisco December 28, 1849, just in time to be a pioneer. He got into lodgings with three dollars left him, two of which he was compelled to part with the next morning for the cheapest breakfast he could order.

He was buoyant in spirit, although out of money and in a new land, far distant from his home and kindred. The day was beautiful-in very midwinter -the air was exhilarating, everybody was active and happy, and the common salutation was, "What a glorious country!" Passing along Clay street, when near Kearny, he noticed a sign with very large letters, "Jonathan D. Stevenson. Gold Dust Bought and Sold Here." "Hello, here is good luck!" he thought. His brother David had given him a promissory note which he held against Col. Stevenson for $350, stating that he understood the Colonel had become rich in California, and if this were true, to ask him to pay the note, Taking the piece of paper from his otherwise empty pocketbook, he entered the place where gold dust was bought and sold. He was recognized and cordially received. In talking about the "glorious country," the Colonel let fall the welcome information that he had made $200,000. The note was presented and paid with interest in full-$440. [Colonel Stevenson is still living in San Francisco, active and in good health, practicing law. After many sweeping reverses of fortune, he is again well to do. He is eighty-eight years old.]

Hiring a room, about 15x20, at the corner of Montgomery and Clay streets, our resolute pioneer put up his shingle. It cost him $300, the bulk of his little capital, to pay one month's rent. This was money thrown away. He received no client callers, except one man, who paid him eight dollars for drawing a deed. He tells us that, in fact, he was in no frame of mind for business, being so excited by the stirring life around him that he passed most of his time on the streets and in saloons, listening to the stories of people from the mines. San Francisco was given a short trial. In less than three weeks from the time he landed here the young lawyer took the steamboat for Sacramento. His objective point was the new town of Vernon, a little further up the river, at which point he had been advised to enter upon an active practice of law by Simmons, Hutchinson & Co., of San Francisco, to which firm he had brought letters of introduction. Finding that Vernon consisted of a single shanty surrounded by a vast expanse of water-the country was then flooded-he pushed on to Nye's Ranch, near the mouth of the Feather river. There he found a bustling camp of several hundred men, and concluded to pitch his tent. An auctioneer was selling town lots. The lawyer asked him the price. The lots were 80x160, the same as in Sacramento, and the uniform price was $250. "Suppose a man puts his name down and afterwards does not want the lots?" asked the lawyer. "Oh, you need not take them if you don't want them," replied the auctioneer. "I took him at his word," said the newcomer afterwards; "I wrote my name down for sixty-five lots, aggregating in price $16,250."

He had only about $20 left of what Colonel Stevenson had paid him, but he became at once the lion of the hour, the capitalist of the community. The proprietors of the land who had just bought it from General Sutter, but who had not yet got their deed, showed the newly arrived capitalist marked attention. Two of their number were French gentlemen, and finding their new acquaintance spoke their tongue, they became the more appreciative.

From the beauty and healthfulness of the spot, and its admirable location, our far-seeing friend was satisfied as to its future. Messieurs Covillaud and Sicard, the two French gentlemen named, became his friends and clients, and he wrote for them the first deed or law paper ever recorded affecting property in Marysville. General Sutter, then living at Hock Farm, six miles distant, signed this deed, which conveyed several leagues of land.

So the attorney went to work at once. On the next day after his arrival, in the evening, a public meeting was held to decide if a town government should be established. It was decided in the affirmative after a speech by Field, predicting a brilliant future for the place.

Who named Marysville? Women will tell fibs as well as men. I have been assured by several of the sex that the beautiful city where the Yuba

and Feather meet, was named after their mothers or their aunts. They had better not tell Judge Field so, for he knows all about it. On January 18, 1850, the people of the new town, then called by some Nye's Ranch, by others Yubaville, established a town government, electing an Ayuntamiento, or Town Council, First and Second Alcaldes and a Marshal. Judge Field was elected First Alcalde by a majority of nine votes. It was urged against him that he was a newcomer. He had been there only three days, while his opponent had been there nine days. This opponent was Mr. C. B. Dodson, who a few years ago was still living at Geneva, Illinois. In the evening another public meeting was held to hear the result of the election. It was resolved at that gathering to give the new town a name. The competing cognomens were "Yubafield," "Yubaville," and "Circumdoro." But at the last moment an old man arose, and said that there was an American lady in the place, the wife of one of the proprietors (the French gentleman, Covillaud). Her name was Mary, and in her honor he moved that the place be called "Marysville." This was at once agreed to amid hearty cheers, and with not one dissenting voice. Mrs. Covillaud was one of the survivors of the Donner party, whose frightful sufferings in the Sierra Nevada mountains, in the winter of 1846-7, must be still widely remembered.

As the constitution of the State had gone into effect, although the State had not been admitted into the Union, everybody recognized the instrument and a session of the legislature was then sitting under its provisions, and had just elected a full set of State officers. To make his calling and election sure, the new Alcalde obtained from Governor Burnett a commission as Justice of the Peace, the two offices amounting to one and the same thing in jurisdiction, except that the duties of Justice of the Peace were accurately defined.

Two men

The first case that he tried deserves notice, as it presents a scene in striking contrast with the exalted station of a Justice of the United States Supreme Court, to which our Alcalde was destined to attain. He had no courtroom for a short time and tried this first case in the street. met him, one leading a horse; the one holding the halter said: "Mr. Alcalde, we both claim this horse, and want you to decide who is entitled to it." The Judge administered an oath to the strangers and examined them fully. He was lawyer for both of them and Judge between them. The questions being all put and answered, the Judge said: "It is very plain, gentlemen, that, as between you two, this man, (pointing to one of them) owns the horse." "But," said the loser, "the bridle belongs to me. Does he take the bridle, too?" "Oh, no, the bridle is another matter," replied the Judge. Then the owner of the bridle, who had lost the animal, asked his adversary: "How much will you take for the horse?" Two hundred and fifty dollars," was the prompt answer. The two agreed then and there, and the purchaser