by a real estate speculator, who hauled her broadside to on the beach, at what was then the foot of Clay Street, and turned her into a warehouse. By degrees the old craft found herself embedded in some ten or twelve feet of sand and mud at a considerable distance from the water-front, but she made more money for her owner here than at any other time in her career, until one of the periodical fires swept away her top sides. The rest of her hull, which being below ground had escaped destruction, became the cellar of the Niantic Hotel, erected over her remains, and had the reputation of being the only tight and dry cellar in the neighborhood.
In the course of time the Niantic Hotel was torn down to make room for a more substantial building, and upon clearing away the debris to secure a more solid foundation, thirty-five baskets of champagne were discovered hidden away among the floor timbers of the old hull, where they had remained unmolested for some twenty-one years. So faithfully had the wine been bottled and so dry had been its resting-place, that there was not a speck of rust on the wires securing the corks, and the labels were as fresh as the day they were put on, while the wine was found to have retained much of its original sparkle and bouquet. It was the then celebrated Jacquesson Fils brand, which at the time of its arrival might easily have been sold for $25 a bottle. I am not sure that it did not sell at nearly its former value, for almost every one in San Francisco in 1870 needed at least one bottle with which to celebrate the anniversary of his arrival "in the
