San Francisco Gold Rush Prices --- wow is this 1999?
I recently read the book - THE BARBARY COAST which is "Gangs of New York" (same author) only about San Francisco. The book covers a district callled the Barbary Coast from the time of the Gold Rush until the 1920s when it was cleaned up much the way the Combat Zone in Boston has been cleaned up.
In the chapter, "the miners came in forty-nine" there is a very interesting discussion on the costs of things. Remember the prices are based on 1850s. Kind of reminds me of the days of simple $250k web sites circa 1999. Interesting reading.
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The cost of practically every commodity and of every sort of personal service was on a par with that of lodging. There were few men willing to perform the necessary menial tasks, and those who did condescend to undertake such work not only charged accordingly but insisted upon grandiloquent titles calculated to disguise and dignify their labors. Thus, the few washerwomen in the town put out signs announcing "Clothing Refreshed"; the porters who handled the baggage of travelers called themselves “baggage conveyors and transporters," and the waiters in the hotels and restaurants refused to respond unless addressed respectfully as "Mister Steward." Fewer than a score of cooks were in private service, but they insisted, of course, upon being called "chefs." A notable exception to this foolery was Mammy Pleasant, a gigantic Negress from New Orleans, black as the inside of a coal-pit, but with no Negroid features whatever, whose culinary exploits were famous. She said flatly that she was a cook, and would be called nothing else. She arrived in the early part of 1850, preceded by her reputation, and was besieged by a crowd of men, all anxious to employ her, before she had so much as left the wharf at which her ship had docked. She finally sold her services at auction for five hundred dollars a month, with the stipulation that she should do no washing, not even dish-washing. This was the highest wage paid to a cook, although several others received as much as three hundred dollars a month. The porters refused to lift even the smallest piece of baggage for less than two dollars, the stewards commanded a daily wage of thirty dollars, and common laborers received from one to two dollars an hour. Washing cost twenty dollars a dozen pieces, regardless of size. So unsatisfactory was the work done by the ladies of the wash-houses, however, that most of the gentry, the wealthy gamblers, and the rich miners sent their linen underwear and boiled shirts by clipper ship to Honolulu or Canton to be laundered with proper care. From three to six months were required for a garment to make such a voyage, but at least it was clean and wearable when it was returned. The cost of washing remained at the twenty-dollar level until the spring of 1850, when it was reduced to eight dollars a dozen and then to five, whereupon the Aha California commented: "There is now no excuse for our citizens to wear soiled or colored shirts. The effect of the reduction is already manifest — tobacco-juice-bespattered bosoms are no longer the fashion,"
Vegetables in early San Francisco were luxuries that only the very rich could afford, despite the enormous yield of the near-by farms and ranches, some of which produced carrots a yard long, beets the size of small hogsheads, and cabbages from fifteen to twenty inches in diameter. Apples found a ready market at one to five dollars each, and eggs varied from ten to fifty dollars a dozen. In the restaurants a boiled egg cost never less than a dollar and quite often was several times that amount. Other foods sold at equally high prices. Tea and coffee cost from three hundred to four hundred dollars a barrel, and from four to five dollars a pound in small quantities. Wheat flour and salt pork each brought forty dollars a barrel, and a small loaf of bread, such as sold in New York for four cents, cost fifty to seventy-five cents in San Francisco. The same price was paid for a pound of common cheese.
Butcher-knives were thirty dollars each, shovels from fifteen to twenty-five dollars, and a tin wash-bowl, or pan, was considered cheap at five dollars. A blanket of the commonest sort could not be obtained for less than forty dollars, and boots of good quality cost a hundred dollars a pair. Cheaper footwear, however, was on the market at thirty to fifty dollars. Any sort of medicine, even a common pill, was ten dollars a dose, and laudanum and other drugs sold for a dollar a drop. A miner who suffered from insomnia once paid fifty dollars for enough laudanum to put him to sleep. The few doctors in the town would not write a prescription for less than one hundred dollars, and a quart of good whisky cost thirty dollars, which would be an extraordinary price even in these jolly days of Prohibition. A twenty-foot plank cost twenty dollars, but lumber in bulk was only five hundred dollars a thousand feet. The cost of a brick house was estimated at one dollar a brick. Common iron tacks of the smallest size, much in demand for fastening cloth partitions, were worth their weight in gold — a pound of gold bought a pound of tacks. Since gold was current at sixteen dollars an ounce (the rate of exchange established at a public meeting in September 1848), the tacks actually cost the purchaser $192 a pound. So far as the records show, this was the top price, although tacks seldom dropped below ten dollars an ounce for more than a year. By that time San Francisco had begun to pass the muslin-partition stage, and so many tacks had been imported that they couldn't be given away. One merchandising genius is said to have brought in a whole shipload, most of which were eventually dumped into the bay at a considerable loss.
Rentals of hotels and other business structures, whether of boards or of canvas, reached even dizzier heights than did commodity prices. A single small store on Portsmouth Square, with a fifteen-foot frontage, brought $3,000 a month, and another, half a block away, rented for $40,000 a year. The rent of a tiny cigar-store barely large enough for one man to stand in was $4,000 a month, and the operator of a bowling-alley in the basement of the Ward House, which was erected on the square early in 1850, paid $5,000 a month to the owners of the property. The Parker House, a two-storey frame structure which had cost $30,000 to build, rented for $120,000 a year. Of this amount, half was paid by gamblers, who occupied the whole of the second floor. El Dorado, a gambling saloon which adjoined the Parker House, at Washington and Kearny streets, on the present site of the Hall of Justice, brought $40,000 a year to its owner, although it was nothing more than a canvas tent, fifteen by twenty-five feet A small building on another corner of the square, occupied by a brokerage firm, rented for $75,000 a year; the proprietor of the United States Hotel, the first hostelry in San Francisco, paid $36,000 a year; and the United States government paid $7,000 a month for the board shanty which housed the Customs Office.
In the chapter, "the miners came in forty-nine" there is a very interesting discussion on the costs of things. Remember the prices are based on 1850s. Kind of reminds me of the days of simple $250k web sites circa 1999. Interesting reading.
****************************************************
The cost of practically every commodity and of every sort of personal service was on a par with that of lodging. There were few men willing to perform the necessary menial tasks, and those who did condescend to undertake such work not only charged accordingly but insisted upon grandiloquent titles calculated to disguise and dignify their labors. Thus, the few washerwomen in the town put out signs announcing "Clothing Refreshed"; the porters who handled the baggage of travelers called themselves “baggage conveyors and transporters," and the waiters in the hotels and restaurants refused to respond unless addressed respectfully as "Mister Steward." Fewer than a score of cooks were in private service, but they insisted, of course, upon being called "chefs." A notable exception to this foolery was Mammy Pleasant, a gigantic Negress from New Orleans, black as the inside of a coal-pit, but with no Negroid features whatever, whose culinary exploits were famous. She said flatly that she was a cook, and would be called nothing else. She arrived in the early part of 1850, preceded by her reputation, and was besieged by a crowd of men, all anxious to employ her, before she had so much as left the wharf at which her ship had docked. She finally sold her services at auction for five hundred dollars a month, with the stipulation that she should do no washing, not even dish-washing. This was the highest wage paid to a cook, although several others received as much as three hundred dollars a month. The porters refused to lift even the smallest piece of baggage for less than two dollars, the stewards commanded a daily wage of thirty dollars, and common laborers received from one to two dollars an hour. Washing cost twenty dollars a dozen pieces, regardless of size. So unsatisfactory was the work done by the ladies of the wash-houses, however, that most of the gentry, the wealthy gamblers, and the rich miners sent their linen underwear and boiled shirts by clipper ship to Honolulu or Canton to be laundered with proper care. From three to six months were required for a garment to make such a voyage, but at least it was clean and wearable when it was returned. The cost of washing remained at the twenty-dollar level until the spring of 1850, when it was reduced to eight dollars a dozen and then to five, whereupon the Aha California commented: "There is now no excuse for our citizens to wear soiled or colored shirts. The effect of the reduction is already manifest — tobacco-juice-bespattered bosoms are no longer the fashion,"
Vegetables in early San Francisco were luxuries that only the very rich could afford, despite the enormous yield of the near-by farms and ranches, some of which produced carrots a yard long, beets the size of small hogsheads, and cabbages from fifteen to twenty inches in diameter. Apples found a ready market at one to five dollars each, and eggs varied from ten to fifty dollars a dozen. In the restaurants a boiled egg cost never less than a dollar and quite often was several times that amount. Other foods sold at equally high prices. Tea and coffee cost from three hundred to four hundred dollars a barrel, and from four to five dollars a pound in small quantities. Wheat flour and salt pork each brought forty dollars a barrel, and a small loaf of bread, such as sold in New York for four cents, cost fifty to seventy-five cents in San Francisco. The same price was paid for a pound of common cheese.
Butcher-knives were thirty dollars each, shovels from fifteen to twenty-five dollars, and a tin wash-bowl, or pan, was considered cheap at five dollars. A blanket of the commonest sort could not be obtained for less than forty dollars, and boots of good quality cost a hundred dollars a pair. Cheaper footwear, however, was on the market at thirty to fifty dollars. Any sort of medicine, even a common pill, was ten dollars a dose, and laudanum and other drugs sold for a dollar a drop. A miner who suffered from insomnia once paid fifty dollars for enough laudanum to put him to sleep. The few doctors in the town would not write a prescription for less than one hundred dollars, and a quart of good whisky cost thirty dollars, which would be an extraordinary price even in these jolly days of Prohibition. A twenty-foot plank cost twenty dollars, but lumber in bulk was only five hundred dollars a thousand feet. The cost of a brick house was estimated at one dollar a brick. Common iron tacks of the smallest size, much in demand for fastening cloth partitions, were worth their weight in gold — a pound of gold bought a pound of tacks. Since gold was current at sixteen dollars an ounce (the rate of exchange established at a public meeting in September 1848), the tacks actually cost the purchaser $192 a pound. So far as the records show, this was the top price, although tacks seldom dropped below ten dollars an ounce for more than a year. By that time San Francisco had begun to pass the muslin-partition stage, and so many tacks had been imported that they couldn't be given away. One merchandising genius is said to have brought in a whole shipload, most of which were eventually dumped into the bay at a considerable loss.
Rentals of hotels and other business structures, whether of boards or of canvas, reached even dizzier heights than did commodity prices. A single small store on Portsmouth Square, with a fifteen-foot frontage, brought $3,000 a month, and another, half a block away, rented for $40,000 a year. The rent of a tiny cigar-store barely large enough for one man to stand in was $4,000 a month, and the operator of a bowling-alley in the basement of the Ward House, which was erected on the square early in 1850, paid $5,000 a month to the owners of the property. The Parker House, a two-storey frame structure which had cost $30,000 to build, rented for $120,000 a year. Of this amount, half was paid by gamblers, who occupied the whole of the second floor. El Dorado, a gambling saloon which adjoined the Parker House, at Washington and Kearny streets, on the present site of the Hall of Justice, brought $40,000 a year to its owner, although it was nothing more than a canvas tent, fifteen by twenty-five feet A small building on another corner of the square, occupied by a brokerage firm, rented for $75,000 a year; the proprietor of the United States Hotel, the first hostelry in San Francisco, paid $36,000 a year; and the United States government paid $7,000 a month for the board shanty which housed the Customs Office.
posted by litoblog at 1:42 PM
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