The Eldorado that Bayard Taylor imagined in his youthful poetry was not half so fabulous as the California he finally saw in the historical year of 1849. He joined the flood of Forty-niners, not as a fortune-seeker but as a journalist, sailing from New York on a crowded steamer. The sight of San Francisco dazzled him: the simmering mountains and water and air, the few hundred houses that seemed to multiply before his very eyes, and the streets teeming...