When you have all the money in the world, sometimes it’s difficult to decide what to do with it. James Lick certainly had that problem. He contemplated building giant statues of himself, his mother, and his father, large enough to be seen by ships far out to sea. A friend dissuaded him from the project, telling him that they would make excellent targets in case of a naval bombardment. Lick abandoned that idea, and started thinking about building a pyramid larger than the Great Pyramid of Giza in downtown San Francisco. In the end, fortunately for the residents of the city, he found a more practical project.
Lick hadn’t always been wealthy; in fact, the case was quite the opposite. His father was a Pennsylvanian cabinet maker, and Lick went into the family trade, apprenticing to him at the age of 13. He was an obedient and dutiful son, and it was what his father wanted, so Lick went along with the idea. It may have been the last time he ever went along with anyone.
When Lick was 21, his 17-year-old girlfriend, Barbara, became pregnant, and James was ready to do the honorable thing and marry her. When he asked her father’s permission, however, he got a rude awakening. Even in light of the circumstances, Henry Snavely didn’t think Lick was worthy to become his son-in-law. Snavely was a well-to-do miller, and had no use for the apprentice joiner. He told him he’d allow him to marry his daughter when he owned a mill as big as his. Lick told him, “Some day, I will own a mill that will make yours look like a pigsty.”
Angry and disappointed, Lick took his skills to Baltimore, where he learned to build pianos. He was good at it, and soon he had moved to New York and opened up his own shop. There, he discovered that most of his products were being shipped to South America, and decided to take his skills to the market.
Lick moved to Buenos Aires, and, although handicapped by his ignorance of the language, quickly made a name for himself. The area was unstable too, with the threat of revolution constantly in the air. In 1825, he had the time and money to take a tour of Europe, leaving his business in the hands of a trusted friend.
He stayed away for a year, but while returning his ship was captured by the Portuguese. Lick and everyone else onboard were taken to Uruguay as prisoners-of-war. Lick managed to escape, and made his way back to Buenos Aires by foot. He then turned his efforts to building up his piano business, and also began to trade in furs.
In 1832, with $40,000 in his pocket, Lick decided it was time to return to claim his bride. He had been away for 15 years. Barbara was married to someone else, of course — in fact, she had married soon after Lick’s departure. Of course, Lick had never told anyone that he planned to return to marry her. When Barbara heard that he was returning to Pennsylvania, she left town to avoid seeing him.
Returning to Buenos Aires, Lick found that political atmosphere even more threatening than it was before, and he moved on, first to Valparaiso, Chile, and then to Lima, Peru. His businesses continued to prosper, but Lick soon had other projects in mind.
He had always been an avid reader of the newspapers, and he was very much interested in the situation that was developing between the United States and Mexico. War seemed imminent, and Lick was sure that the U.S. would win. California was likely to be the prize, and it seemed like a good place for a man like him to settle.
So Lick set off for San Francisco, with $30,000 in gold and 600 pounds of chocolate. He arrived in January 1848, less than a month before California became U.S. territory. He took a good look around, and saw a city with potential. He started buying up as much land as he could get his hands on. The locals through he was crazy, and were only too happy to take his money.
He also sold the chocolate he had brought from Peru, and it sold so well that he contacted his friend back in Lima, telling him that San Francisco was a good place for a confectioner. The friend heeded his advice, and came to California. You may have heard of him: his name was Domingo Ghirardelli, and today his product is a household word.
Then came the gold. Gold was discovered at Sutter’s Creek only 17 days after Lick’s arrival in San Francisco, and the Gold Rush was on. Lick got a little taste of the fever himself, and went out to mine, but after a week of it he decided that his fortune lay in real estate, not precious metal. He continued buying in San Francisco, and also started acquiring agricultural property near San Jose.
It was a good move. San Francisco grew from about 1,000 residents to over 20,000 in the next two years. Not only was there a huge housing boom, but all those new residents needed food, and Lick was now growing produce and milling flour in addition to his other interests.
He also began building a hotel, Lick House, which came to be known as the finest hotel west of the Mississippi. It was three stories high and covered two blocks. It had 164 rooms. The dining room seated 400 and was modeled after one he had seen at the Palace of Versailles during his European travels.
Lick had never forgotten his roots, and the disdain he had received from Snavely still stung. He built that mill that he had promised so long ago, and it truly was a marvel. It cost over $200,000, and was built of the finest woods and most expensive machinery. The locals called it the “Mahogany Mill” or “Lick’s Folly.” Lick sent a photograph of the mill back to his hometown, even though Snavely was almost certainly dead by then.
Lick now interested in getting to know his son John, by now 37 years old. He sent for him and he came to San Francisco, telling him of Barbara’s death four years earlier. He hoped to make a businessman of his son, but was dissatisfied with the results. He also built a huge mansion for the two of them, hoping that it would help cement their relationship. It had 24 rooms, each of them provided with a marble fireplace. John preferred life at the old cabin they had shared, so Lick lived in the mansion alone. He never bothered to furnish it, but slept on an old door that was positioned on two nail kegs. He used the empty rooms to dry fruit from his orchards.
John had soon had enough of his father, and returned to his life back East. The time they had spent together had been uncomfortable for both, and Lick eventually virtually disinherited his son, leaving him only $150,000. The reason, according to Lick’s will, was that John had been neglectful of his parrot. (John contested the will, and ended up with $535,000.)
James Lick was definitely an eccentric as far as the town was concerned, and frequently he was a crotchety one. He liked loyal employees, and frequently made them prove their loyalty, sometimes by giving them nonsensical orders, such as ordering them to plant trees upside down. He was proud of his orchards and gardens, and enjoyed showing them off to visitors. Once, he heard a young lady telling another that she had seen finer violas in San Francisco. He left the group in a field, forcing them to find their own way home.
Lick wanted to gift the city of San Jose with a beautiful conservatory, made of iron and glass in the style he had seen at Kew Gardens. He ordered the kit from a company back East, and was ready to begin construction. Then the local newspaper ran an article describing his shabby dress. Lick rescinded the offer, and left the conservatory in the packing cases in which it had arrived.
And Lick was shabbily dressed, frequently. He was often seen in town, making a tour of the restaurants and collecting their old bones, which he ground to make fertilizer. He also raised 1,000 pigeons in an attic, so that he could use the guano for fertilizer.
In his 77th year, Lick suffered a severe stroke. He was found one morning by his foreman and was taken to a room at his hotel, where he could be cared for more easily. He would only live three more years, and those years he spent planning the disposition of his assets. He wanted a great memorial — it was during these years that he contemplated the giant statues and the pyramid — but he had not yet determined what form it would take.
Through the influence of several friends, Lick became very interested in astronomy. Soon he determined that he would build a telescope “superior to and more powerful than” any yet made.
The telescope would be built, but not until after Lick’s death. It is the Lick Observatory at the University of California on Mount Hamilton. Lick bequeathed $700,000 to the project, and before it was finished it cost what has been estimated to be the equivalent, in today’s dollars, of $1.2 billion. Lick lies buried under the telescope, with a brass plaque saying “Here lies the body of James Lick.”
Among other bequests cited in Lick’s will were: $540,000 to endow the California School of Mechanic Arts; $150,000 for free public baths in San Francisco; $100,000 for three statues representing three periods of California history, placed in front of the San Francisco city hall; and $60,000 for a memorial to Francis Scott Key. He also left donations to an Old Ladies Home, the Protestant Orphan Asylum, the Ladies Protestant Relief Society, San Jose Orphans, the Society of California Pioneers, and the California Academy of Sciences. He never built those statues of himself and his family, but he did leave $46,000 for a monument to his grandfather, who had served during the American Revolution under George Washington.
That’s a heck of a lot better than a giant pyramid, don’t you think?
Sources: Chase’s Calendar of Events, 2011 Edition: The Ultimate Go-To Guide for Special Days, Weeks, and Months, Editors of Chase’s Calendar of Events; http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/August_25; http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/James_Lick; http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lick_Observatory ; “James Lick, the “Generous Master,” The Lick Observatory Historical Collections Project; Gail MacGowan, “James Lick, Miser and Philanthropist,” Guidelines, Newsletter for San Francisco Guides and Sponsors; “Eccentric Millionaire James Lick,” The Daily Journal: San Mateo County’s Homepage; Bruce Upbin, “Elon Musk, Jeff Bezos licked by James Lick in space race,” Forbes; “James Lick,” NNDB website.