Chapter III: Part 3

On the 18th of April, 1860, two workmen, George S. Hatterman and John Harris, were quarrying limestone from this ledge, when, upon the removal of a large piece of rock, they discovered a dark opening sufficiently enlarged to permit their entrance. Availing themselves of the light pouring in through the opening, they went in as far as they could see--some fifty feet. Before venturing further into the darkness, they threw a stone forward, which, striking in water, determined them to return for lights. At this juncture Mr. Gwinn, the owner of the ledge, came up, and, upon learning of their discovery, immediately sent for candles to enable them to further prosecute their explorations. The result of these, after several hours spent in them, can hardly be better described than in Mr. Gwinn's own language, taken from a letter, dated April 19, 1860, addressed to Mr. Holmes, a gentleman friend of his residing in Sacramento, and first published in the _Bee_, of that city:

"Wonders will never cease. On yesterday, we, in quarrying rock, made an opening to the most beautiful cave you ever beheld. On our first entrance we descended about fifteen feet, gradually, to the centre of the room, which is one hundred by thirty feet. At the north end there is a most magnificent pulpit, in the Episcopal church style, that man has ever seen. It seems that it is, and should be, called the "Holy of Holies." It is completed with the most beautiful drapery of alabaster sterites of all colors, varying from white to pink-red, overhanging the beholder. Immediately under the pulpit there is a beautiful lake of water, extending to an unknown distance. We thought this all, but, to our great admiration, on arriving at the centre of the first room, we saw an entrance to an inner chamber, still more splendid; two hundred by one hundred feet, with the most beautiful alabaster overhanging in every possible shape of drapery. Here stands magnitude, giving the instant impression of a power above man; grandeur that defies decay; antiquity that tells of ages _unnumbered_; beauty that the touch of time makes more beautiful; use exhaustless for the service of men; strength imperishable as the globe, the monument of eternity--the truest earthly emblem of that everlasting and unchangeable, irresistible Majesty, by whom, and for whom, all things were made."

As soon as the news spread, hundreds of people flocked to see the newly discovered wonder, from all the surrounding mining settlements, so that within the first six days, it was visited by upwards of four hundred persons, many of whom, we regret to say, possessed a larger organ of acquisitiveness than of veneration, and laid vandal hands on some of the most beautiful portions within reach, near the entrance. Upon this, the proprietor closed it until arrangements could be made for its protection and systematic illumination; the better to see and not to touch the specimens.

At this time Messrs. Smith & Hatterman leased the cave and immediately began to prepare it for the reception of the public by building barricades, platforms, etc., and placing a large number of lamps at favorable points, for the better illumination and inspection of the different chambers.

At the time of its discovery, in the spring, considerable water was standing in some of the deepest of the cavities, but it presently began to recede at the rate of nearly six inches a day, and continued to do so, until, in a few weeks, it had entirely disappeared, leaving the cave perfectly dry. This afforded opportunity for further exploration, upon which it was found that a more convenient entrance could be made, with but little labor, from an unimportant room within a few feet of the road. This was accordingly done, and the new opening, in addition to its increased convenience, allows the free circulation of pure air.

Having thus given a historical sketch of its discovery, with other matters connected with its preservation and management, we shall now endeavor to take the reader with us, at least in imagination, while attempting a detailed description of its interior.

Upon approaching the cave from the roadside, we descend three or four steps to a board floor. Here is a door which is always carefully locked when no visitors are within. Passing on we enter a chamber about twenty-five feet long by seventeen feet wide and from five to twelve and a half feet in height.

Though very plain and comparatively unattractive at both roof and sides, it is yet quite curious, especially to visitors unaccustomed to caves. Here is also a desk, upon which lies a book inscribed, "Coral Cave Register." This book was presented by some gentlemen of San Francisco, who thought that the name "Coral Cave" would be more appropriate. The impression produced upon our mind upon the first walk through it, was that "Alabaster Cave" would be equally as good a name, but, upon examining it more thoroughly, we afterwards thought, that as a great proportion of the ornaments at the roots of the stalactites look like beautifully frozen mosses, or very fine coral, and the long icicle-looking pendants being more like alabaster, the name, Coral Cave, was to be preferred. But as Mr. Gwinn had given the name "Alabaster" to the works themselves, on account of the purity and whiteness of the limestone there found, even before the discovery of the cave, we cheerfully acquiesce in the name originally given.

The register was opened April twenty-fourth, 1860, and upon our visit, September thirtieth of the same year, two thousand seven hundred and twenty-one names had been registered. Some three or four thousand persons had visited it before the register was provided, many declined entering their names after it was furnished, and many others visited it after the date of our visit, so that it is probable that the number of persons who entered this cave during the year of its discovery must have been nearly or quite three thousand five hundred.

Advancing beyond the vestibule, or register room, along another passage or room, our eyes rest on several notices, such as, "Please do not touch the specimens," "No smoking allowed," "Hands and feet off," with _feet_ scratched out, amputation of those members not intended!

The low, shelving, rocky wall upon the left and near the end of the passage are covered with coral-like excrescences, resembling bunches of coarse rock-moss. This brings us to the entrance of the

Dungeon of Enchantment.

Before us is a broad, oddly-shaped and low-roofed chamber, about one hundred and twenty feet long, by seventy in width, and from four to twenty feet high.

Bright coral-like stalactites hang down in irregular rows and in almost every variety of shape and shade, from milk-white to cream color; forming a most agreeable contrast with the dark arches and the frowning buttresses on either hand, while low-browed ridges, some almost black, others of a reddish-brown, stretch from either side, the space between which is ornamented with a peculiar kind of coloring which nearly resembles a grotesque species of graining.

Descending toward the left, we approach one of the most singularly beautiful groups of stalactites in this apartment. Some of these are fine pendants, hardly larger than pipestems, from two to five feet long, and hollow from end to end. When the cave was first discovered there were four or five of these pendants over eight feet long, but the early admitted vandals ruthlessly destroyed, or selfishly carried them off. Others resemble the ears of white elephants, or, rather, the white elephant of Siam, while others still present the appearance of long and slender cones, inverted.

Examining this and other groups more closely, we discover at their bases coral-like excrescences of great beauty; here, like petrified moss, brilliant, and almost transparent; there, a pretty fungus, tipped and spangled with diamonds; yonder, miniature pine trees, which, with a most obliging disposition to accommodate themselves to circumstances, grow bottom up. In other places appear fleeces of the finest merino or silky floss.

Leaving these, and turning to the right, we can ascend a ladder into the loftiest part of this chamber. Here new combinations of beauty surprise and delight us. Thence passing on, we come to a large stalagmite, whose form and size suggest a tying post for horses. This has been dignified, or mystified, anything but beautified, by different names, more or less appropriate. One is "Lot's Wife." If the woman was no higher than the stalagmite she must have been a dwarf, for the top of the post is but four feet and a quarter above its bottom, while its diameter at the bottom is hardly one foot. Its two other names, "Hercules' Club," and "Brobdignag's Forefinger," are more appropriate, though the latter would suggest an "exaggeration," as Mrs. Partington would have it.

Continuing on, we pass over a gently rising floor resembling solidified snow, until we approach the verge of, and look down into, an immense abyss, surmounted by a cavernous roof. Icicle and coral formations depend from the roof, and a rude drapery of jet covers the sides. Here is suspended a singular petrifaction resembling a human heart, which looks as if it might have belonged to one of the primitive Titans, or come from the chest of that Miltonian monster, whose spear-shaft was like a Norway pine.

On one side of this is an elevated and nearly level natural floor, upon which a table and seats have been temporarily erected for the convenience of choristers, choirs or singing societies, and even for the accommodation of public worship, should any desire to witness or participate in it in this most beautiful of God's natural temples. The lover of sacred music would be delighted beyond measure to hear these "vaulted hills" resound the symphonies of Mozart, Haydn or Mendelssohn. Scores of these pendent harps would vibrate in unison, or echo them in delicious harmonies from chamber to chamber, or bear them from roof to wall in diminishing reverberations even to the most remote of these rock-formed corridors.

We may not linger here too long, so passing hence, we enter other and smaller chambers, along whose roofs we trace formations that resemble streams of water suddenly arrested in their flow and turned to ice. In another, a peculiarly shaped petrifaction presents a perfectly formed beet from one point of view, while from another it resembles a small elephant's head. Not far hence, a bell-shaped hollow, a beautiful combination of grotto and arcade, has received the name of "Julia's Bower."

Once more advancing, a narrow, low-roofed passage brings us into the most beautiful chamber of all, the

Crystal Chapel.

No language can suitably convey, nor any comparisons worthily suggest, the combined beauty and magnificence of this wonderful spot. "From the beginning," says Hutchings, "we have felt that we were almost presumptuous in attempting to portray these wonderful scenes, but, in hope of inducing others to see, with their natural eyes, the sights that we have seen, and enjoy the pleasure that we have enjoyed, we entered upon the task, even though inadequately, of giving an outline--nothing more. Here, however, we confess ourselves entirely at a loss.

"The sublime grandeur of this imposing sight fills the soul with astonishment that swells up from within as though its purpose was to make the beholder speechless, the language of silence being the most fitting and impressive when puny man treads the great halls of nature, the more surely to lead him, humbly, from these to the untold glory of the Infinite One who devised the laws, and superintended the processes that brought such wonders into being.

"After the mind seems prepared to examine this gorgeous spectacle somewhat in detail, we look upon the ceiling, if we may so speak, which is entirely covered with myriads of the most beautiful of stone icicles, long, large and brilliant; between these are squares or panels, the mullions and bars of which seem to be formed of diamonds; while the panels themselves resemble the frosting upon windows in the very depth of winter; and even those are of many colors, that most prevailing being of a light pinkish-cream. Moss, coral, floss, wool, trees, and many other forms, adorn the interstices between the larger of the stalactites. At the further end is one vast mass of rock, resembling congealed water, apparently formed into many folds and hillocks; in many instances connected by pillars with the roof above. Deep down and underneath this is the entrance by which we reached the chamber.

"At our right stands a large staglamite, dome-shaped at the top, and covered with beautifully undulating and wavy folds. Every imaginable gracefulness possible to the most curiously arranged drapery, is here visible, 'carved in alabaster' by the Great Architect of the universe. This is named 'The Pulpit.'

"In order to examine this object with more minuteness, a temporary platform has been erected, which, although detractive of the general effect, in our opinion, affords a nearer and better view of all these remarkable objects in detail.

"This spectacle, as well as the others, being brilliantly illuminated, the scene is very imposing, and reminds one of those highly-wrought pictures of the imagination, painted in such charming language and with such good effect in such works as the 'Arabian Nights.'

"Other apartments known as the 'Picture Gallery,' etc., might well detain us longer, but, as in many of their most important particulars, they bear a striking resemblance to those already described, we leave them for the tourist to examine for himself." If what we have said excites the desire of any tourist to visit this new combination of wonder and beauty, we are quite sure he will agree with us that the words of man utterly fail to adequately picture forth the works of God, and will ever after delight his soul with the life-long memory of his charming visit to the wonderful Alabaster Cave.

Tourist's Complete Guide

TO

San Francisco, Suburbs and Vicinity;

WITH SPECIAL TRIPS AND SHORT EXCURSIONS IN AND ABOUT THE CITY.

I. CITY PROPER.

SKETCH OF THE CITY--Historical, Topographical, General
Plan 95-107

APPROACHES TO THE CITY--From the east, by boat; from
the south, by rail; from the ocean, by steamship, 107-113

CONVEYANCES--Hacks, Coaches, Cars, Porters, Legal Rates,
Caution, Baggage and Package Express, 113-116

HOTELS--Grand, Occidental, Cosmopolitan, Lick House,
Brooklyn, Russ House, American Exchange, Morton
House, International, Hotel Gailhard, What Cheer,
(males only), 116-121

LODGING HOUSES--Nucleus, Clarendon, 121

RESTAURANTS--Saulman's, Swain's, Job's, Martin's, Lermitte's,
121-122

BATHS--Fresh, Salt, Turkish, Russian, Roman, Steam and
Vapor, 122

PLACES OF AMUSEMENT--California, Metropolitan, Alhambra,
Maguire's, and Chinese Theatres; Museums, Melodeons,
Dance Halls, and Beer Cellars, 122-125

HALLS--Platt's, Union, Pacific, Mercantile Library, Mechanic's
Institute, Y. M. C. A., Mozart, Dashaway, 125-126

BILLIARDS, Bowling Saloons and Shooting Galleries, 127-128

GYMNASIUMS--Olympic Club, Y. M. C. A., German Turn
Verein, Skating Rinks, Base Ball Ground, 128-130

GARDENS--Woodward's, City, 130-140

MENAGERIES--Woodward's Zoological Grounds, North
Beach, 140

SQUARES AND PARKS--Plaza, (Portsmouth Square), Washington
Square, South Park, 141

PROMENADES--Montgomery Street, Kearny Street, California
Street. BEST TIME, 141-144

DRIVES--Cliff House Road, Ocean House Road, Bay View,
New Ocean Road, Best Time, 145-148

LIBRARIES AND READING ROOMS--Mercantile, Mechanic's
Institute, Odd Fellow's, Pioneers, Y. M. C. A., What
Cheer, Woodward's Gardens, 148

PUBLIC BUILDINGS--_Federal_: Post Office, Custom House,
Old Mint, New Mint, Marine Hospital. _City and County_:
Old City Hall, New City Hall, Jail, Almshouse, Industrial
School, Engine Houses, Engines. _Corporation and
Society Buildings_: Pioneer's, Merchant's Exchange, Bank
of California, Mercantile Library Building, Mechanic's
Institute, Masonic Temple, Odd Fellow's Hall, Y. M. C. A.
Building, Mechanics' Pavilion, 148-157

BUSINESS BUILDINGS AND BLOCKS--Alta California Building,
Bancroft's, Donohoe, Kelly & Co., Harpending's Block,
Murphy, Grant & Co., Tobin, Dixon & Davisson, Treadwell's,
Tucker's, Wells, Fargo & C.'s Building, White
House, 157-159

MANUFACTORIES--Kimball Car and Carriage Factory, Pacific
Rolling Mills, Mission Woolen Mills, Foundries and
Iron Works, Locomotives, Boilers, Mining Machinery,
Shot Tower and Lead Works, Sugar Refinery, Glass
Works, Ship Yards, 159-161

CHURCHES--Baptist, Congregational, Episcopal, Jewish,
Methodist, Presbyterian, Roman Catholic, Swedenborgian,
Unitarian, Chinese Mission House, Mariner's
Church, Old Mission Church, 161-167

HOSPITALS AND ASYLUMS--City and County, French, German,
Protestant Orphan, Roman Catholic Orphan, 167-169

COLLEGES--California Business University, City College,
St. Ignatius', St. Mary's, Toland Medical, 169-170

SCHOOL BUILDINGS--Denman, Girl's High, Lincoln, Valencia
Street, 171-172

PRINTING, Lithographing, Binding, and Blank Book Manufacturing
Establishment, 172-173

PRIVATE RESIDENCES--Davis', Eldridges, Laidley's, Latham's,
Bancroft's, Otis', Parrott's, Tallant's, Taylor's,
Tobin's, 174

POINTS OF OBSERVATION--Telegraph Hill, Russian Hill,
Clay Street Hill, California Street Hill, Rincon Hill,
Lone Mountain, Twin Peaks, Bernal Heights, U. S.
Observatory. Views from each, 174-184

HOW TO GET ABOUT--Horse Car Lines, Routes, Distances,
Times, Fares, Buggies, Carriages, Coaches and Saddle
Horses; qualities of, and charges for. Hacks, with rates
of hire, 184-188

II. SUBURBS AND VICINITY.

Commencing at the foot of Market street, thence southward
along or near the water front, continuing around the entire
city and returning to the point of starting. Also,
mentioning more distant points, visible to the spectator
looking beyond the suburbs.

LUMBER YARDS; Wharves and Merchant Fleet; California
and Oregon S. S. Co.'s Wharves and Ships; Black Diamond
Coal Co.'s Pier; Rincon Point; U. S. Marine Hospital;
P. M. S. S. Co.'s Piers, Docks, Sheds and Ships;
Gas Works; C. P. R. R. Co,'s Freight Pier, Depot and
Boat; Mission Bay; Mission Rock; U. S. Ship Anchorage;
Steamboat Reserves; Long Bridge; Yacht Club
and Boat-house, with Yachts; Potrero; Glass Works;
Pacific Rolling Mill; Deep Cut; Islais Creek and Bridge;
Rope Walk; Italian Fishing Fleet and Flakes; Celestial
Ditto; South San Francisco; Catholic Orphan Asylum;
Hunter's Point; Dry Dock; Bay View Race Course;
Visitacion Point and Valley; San Bruno Road; New
Butchertown; Ocean House Road; Lake Honda; Almshouse;
Small Pox Hospital; Ocean House Race Track;
Lake Merced; Ocean House; Pacific Beach; Seal Rocks;
Cliff House; Farallones; Point Lobos; Signal Station;
Helmet Rock; Fort Point; Fort; Light-House; Golden
Gate; Lime Point; Point Bonita; Mountain Lake;
Lobos Creek; Presidio; Barracks; Parade Ground;
Black Point; Pacific Woolen Mills; North Beach; Angel
Island; Alcatraz; North Point; Sea Wall; Ferries, 188-196

III. HOW TO SEE THE CITY.

Under this head we suggest:

Morning, or half-day excursions, in and about the city and its suburbs.

I. IN AND ABOUT THE CITY.

1. Montgomery Street, Telegraph Hill, North Beach,
Washington Square, The Plaza, City Hall, Kearny
street, 197

2. Chinese Quarter, 197

3. Third street, South Park, Long Bridge, Potrero, South
San Francisco, Dry Dock, 201

4. Water Front, (south), Stewart street, P. M. S. S. Co.'s
Docks and Mammoth Steamships, Foundries, Factories,
Shot Tower, 202

5. Water Front, (north), Sea Wall, North Point, Warehouses
and Clippers, Iron Ships, Bay and River Steamboats
and Docks, 202

6. Southwestern Suburbs, Mission street, Woodward's
Gardens, Old Mission Church, Jewish Cemeteries,
Woolen Mills, Howard street, 202

7. Western Suburbs and Beyond Bush street, Laurel Hill,
Lone Mountain Cemeteries, Cliff House Road, Race
Track, Cliff House, Seal rocks, Pacific Beach, Ocean
House, Road Track, Lake Honda, New Ocean Road, 203

8. Northwestern Suburbs and Beyond: Russian Hill,
Spring Valley, Fort Point, Fortress, Lighthouse, Golden
Gate, Presidio, Black Point, 203

SAN FRANCISCO.

Historical.

The site of what is now the city of San Francisco was first permanently occupied by white men, September 17, 1776. The same year witnessed the entrenchment of a garrison and the establishment of a Mission.

San Francisco owes its origin to Catholic missionaries and Spanish soldiers. Father Junipero Serra led the missionaries--and virtually commanded the soldiers. The name San Francisco was given in honor of Saint Francis of Asisis, a city of Italy, the founder of the order of Franciscans to which Father Junipero belonged. The presidio, garrison or fort, was founded first, Sept. 17, and the mission about three weeks later, Oct. 9th. The site first chosen was near a small lagoon back of, that is, west of, what is now called Russian Hill, but the prevailing winds proved so high and bitter as to compel its early removal to the more sheltered spot, over a mile south, under the lee of high hills, and near the present Mission Creek. Here, at the head of what is now Center or Sixteenth Street, the old church still stands.

For nearly sixty years the mission stood, the nucleus of a little village of rude adobe houses, tenanted by a fluctuating population of Indians, Mexicans and Spanish--and the center of a military and religious authority, which upon more than one occasion made itself felt and feared for leagues around. The population rarely rose above four hundred and frequently fell to less than a hundred and fifty.

In 1835, Capt. W. A. Richardson put up the first pioneer dwelling, with rude wooden walls and sail-cloth roof. On the fourth of July of the next year, 1836, Jacob P. Leese finished the first frame house. This house stood where the St. Francis Hotel now stands,--on the southwest corner of Clay and Dupont streets, a single block west of the present City Hall. Leese had his store on the beach, which was where Montgomery and Commercial streets now intersect. Nearly seven solid blocks of made-land now stretch between where that old beach lay and the present water front. Other houses soon rose near that of Leese, and presently the villagers saw their little settlement fast approaching the dignity of a new town, and cast about to find a name. Nature caused it to spring out of the ground for them in the form of a species of aromatic mint, which, surrounding their dwellings, perfuming the morning air and supplying frequent and varied medicinal needs, had proved indeed, as the Spaniards called it, "Yerba Buena," the Good Herb. So the herb named the town, and the name "_stuck_" as the Californians say, for nearly a dozen years. During these years the houses grew in number, until 1847, when the town contained seventy-nine buildings,--thirty-one frame, twenty-six adobe, and the rest shanties--and these houses sheltered three hundred souls, or, at least, that number of bodies. On the 30th of January of that year, these three hundred dropped the old name Yerba Buena, and adopted the older one, which had belonged to the neighboring mission for nearly fourscore years. Thus the town also became San Francisco, and has ever since so remained. The first steamboat appeared in the bay, November 15th of the same year. In March, 1848, the houses had grown to two hundred, and the population to eight hundred and fifty. On the third of the next month, the first public school began.

New Year's Day, '49, the new city claimed a population of two thousand. Three days later the two previously published weekly papers merged into the Alta California, the earliest established of all newspapers now existing in the State.

The early miners were making from twenty to thirty dollars a day, getting "bags" of dust and "piles" of nuggets, and rushing down to "Frisco" to gamble it away. These were the "flush times" of the new city. Fresh eggs cost from seventy-five cents to one dollar apiece. For a beefsteak and a cup of coffee for breakfast one had to pay a dollar and a half, and a dinner cost him from two to ten or even twenty dollars, according to appetite and drinketite. Rough labor brought the old Congressional pay of eight dollars a day; draymen earned twenty dollars a day; and family "help" could hardly be had for forty, or even fifty, dollars a week. The great mass of the men lived in tents. Very few women had come, but those few were overwhelmed with attention; if one wished to cross the street in the rainy season, a score of brawny arms would fight for the privilege of gallantly wading through the sea of mud to carry her across the unpaved street.

Great fires came, four of them; the first the day before Christmas, '49--it burned over a million dollars worth; the second, May 4th, '50--it destroyed three millions dollars worth. A little over a month later, June 14th, 1850, the most destructive fire the city ever saw left it poorer by four millions of dollars; and on the 17th of the next September the fourth fire consumed another half million. Nearly nine million dollars worth burned in less than nine months!

Business thrived immensely. In 1852, more than seven vessels a day arrived at or departed from San Francisco. Commerce overdid itself. Long piers ran out over the flats where now solid blocks of lofty buildings have stood for half a score of years. Sometimes storms kept back the clippers; then prices went still higher. Between March and November, flour went up from eight to forty dollars a barrel, while the "Alta" came down from its usual broad and sightly page to the size of a pane of window-glass, fourteen by ten. Villainy flourished; drinking, gambling, robbery and murder held high carnival; the law did little, and did that little shabbily and tardily; so the people woke and resumed their original legislative, judicial, and especially their executive, functions.

In '51 and '52, and again in '56, they came nobly to the front, hung the worst villains who defied the common law, frightened away the others, restored order, established security for honest men, and resolved themselves again into law-abiding citizens. And thus, through perils of fire, social convulsions, and financial fluctuation, the cosmopolitan city has swept swiftly on until to-day, though having barely attained her majority, she stands in the first half-score of American cities. Every year she leaves a city or two behind in her steady progress toward the throne of the continent which she will surely occupy before the present century has fully fled.

Situation and Extent.

In extent, population, commerce, wealth and the growth, San Francisco of to-day is not only the chief city of California, but the great commercial metropolis of the whole Pacific slope. It is both a city and a county; the county occupies the extreme end of a hilly peninsula stretching north to the Golden Gate, between the Pacific Ocean on the west, and San Francisco bay on the east.

The whole peninsula has a length of from thirty-five to forty miles, with an average width of from twelve to fifteen miles. The average width of the county from bay to ocean is four and one half miles, and its extreme length, from the Golden Gate on the north, to the San Mateo County line on the south, is six miles and a half. Its boundary line being the natural one of a coast or shore on the west, north and east, is more or less irregular; on the south it is straight. Its entire area is 26,681 acres, including the Presidio reservation of 1,500 acres, which belongs to the general government.

The county also includes the Farallon Islands, lying nearly thirty miles west in the Pacific Ocean, with the islands of Alcatraz and Yerba Buena, or Goat Island, in San Francisco bay.

The city proper occupies the northeast corner of the county. Its limits extend about two miles and a half from east to west, by three and a half from north to south, thus including between one fifth and one sixth the area of the county.

The natural surface was very uneven and the soil equally varied--sand beach, salt marsh, mud flats, low plains, narrow ravines, small and shallow valleys, elevated benches or plateaux, sandy knolls and dunes, and stretches of the close, adobe soil, made up its original surface; while rocky bluffs fortified its shore line, and extensive ledges underlaid its hills or cropped out from their sides, or crowned their tops. These hills varied in height from two hundred and sixty to four hundred and ten feet, while west and south of the city limits they rose still higher. One or two small lagoons lay sluggishly about, and as many small streams found their way thence to the bay.

The original founders of the city, as is usual in similar cases, seemed never to suspect that they were moulding the beginnings of a grand metropolis. Hence they laid out what little they did project with the least possible regard to present symmetry, or the probable demands of future growth. The natural inequalities of surface, the grade and width of streets which must become necessary to a large city, reservations for public buildings, promenades, gardens, parks, etc., with the sanitary necessity of thorough drainage, were matters of which they seem to have been serenely unconscious, or, worse still, sublimely indifferent. And many of their immediate successors in authority were legitimate descendants, or humbly imitative followers.

We have not an important street in the city which conforms its course to the cardinal points of the compass, and but one main avenue, Market street, which begins to be wide enough. As Cronise truthfully says: "The whole town stands _askew_."

We now proceed to "orient" the tourist, as Horace Mann used to say, in regard to such streets, avenues, thoroughfares, cuts, parks, etc., as mainly constitute the highly artificial, though not particularly ornamental, topography of our little occidental village.

General Plan.

Market street is the widest and the longest, starting at the water front, half a mile east of the old City Hall, and slightly ascending through eight or nine blocks, it runs thence southwesterly on a nearly level grade beyond the city limits. Its western end is yet unfinished. A mile and a half from the water it cuts through a moderately high and immoderately rocky hill, beyond which it stretches away toward the unfenced freedom of the higher hills, and the dead level of the western beach beyond, at which it will probably condescend ultimately to stop. Its surface presents every variety of natural conformation ingeniously varied with artificial distortion. Plank, rubble, McAdam, cobble, Nicolson, gravel, Stow foundation, gravel, adobe, sand, and finally undisguised dirt, offer their pleasing variety to the exploring eye. From two to four horse-railroad tracks diversify its surface with their restful regularity, while the steam cars from San Jose follow their locomotive a short distance up its western end.

Stately blocks, grand hotels, massive stores, lofty factories, tumble-down shanties, unoccupied lots and vacant sand-hills form its picturesque boundary on either hand. When the high summer winds sweep easterly down its broad avenue, laden with clouds of flying sand from vacant lots along its either margin, it becomes a decidedly open question whether the lots aforesaid really belong in the department of real estate, or should, properly enter the catalogue of "movable property."

We have dwelt thus at length upon this street, not only on account of its central position and superior dimensions, but because it is a representative street. Others are like it as far as they can be. They would resemble it still more closely, did length, width and direction permit. It is fast becoming the great business street of the city, and, spite of the roughness and crudeness necessarily attaching to all the streets of a new and fast-growing city, it unmistakably possesses all the requisites of the future "Grand Avenue" of the Pacific metropolis.

On the northeast of Market street, through the older portion of the city, the streets run at right angles with each other, though neither at right angles or parallel with Market. One set runs, in straight lines, nearly north and south. The other set, also straight, crosses the former at right angles, that is, running nearly east and west. The principal of these streets, as one goes from the bay westerly, back toward the hills, and, in fact, some distance up their slopes, are Front, Battery, Sansome, Montgomery, Kearny, Dupont, Stockton, Powell, Mason, Taylor, and a dozen others, of which those nearer the bay are gradually growing into importance as business streets, especially along the more level portions of their southern blocks, near where they run into Market street. Beyond these, that is, west of them, the streets are chiefly occupied by dwelling houses, among which are many expensive residences of the most modern construction and elegant design.

Between Front street and the bay run two shorter streets, Davis and Drumm, along which, as well as upon the northern part of Front street, are several of the principal wharves, piers, docks and steamboat landings.

At right angles with these streets, running back at an acute angle from Market street, and at a right angle with the water front as well as the streets already named, are Geary, Post, Sutter, Bush, Pine, California, Sacramento, Clay, Washington, Jackson, Pacific, Broadway, with a dozen or more others still further north, and a score or so south.

Along the eastern blocks of these streets, that is, within five or six squares of the water, stand many of the leading business houses, hotels, newspaper offices, etc.

A sufficient variety of pavement diversifies the surface of all these streets--from the primitive, original and everlasting cobble, destroyer of quiet, destruction to wheels and death on horses, to the smooth-rolling Nicolson and the beautifully level Stow foundation, blessed bane of all the above abominations, and not a specially bad thing for the contractors. The sidewalks generally have a liberal breadth. They are commonly covered with plank, asphaltum or brick, and, near the corners and in front of the numerous rum-holes, with gangs of bilks or crowds of loafers, who have only, as Sydney Smith once said of a certain vestry in London, to lay their heads together to make a first-class wooden pavement.

South of Market street, that is, in the newer and more rapidly growing portion of the city, the streets were laid out under a new survey, and, of course, have an angle and direction of their own. One set runs parallel with Market, that is, nearly southwest and northeast. Their names, in receding order from Market, are Mission, Howard, Folsom, Harrison, Bryant, Brannan, etc. These streets are generally wider than those of the older, northern part. Southeast of them are seven or eight parallel streets, gradually growing shorter as they come nearer the Mission Bay, ending in South street, less than a block and a half long, lying along the water front. The lower or eastern ends of nearly all these streets run down to piers and wharves, upon which are the leading lumber and coal yards of the city, the largest hay and grain barns and sheds, and the immense docks of the great Pacific Mail Steamship Company. Nearly two miles back from the water front all these streets "swing around the circle" far enough to bring them into an exactly north and south line, and creep southward down the peninsula, a block or two farther south every season.

The streets running at right angles with Market street, beginning at the water front and reckoning back southwesterly, are named by their numbers, First, Second, etc., up to Thirtieth, and even beyond. Between First street and the present water front, some six or seven blocks have been filled in and are occupied chiefly by gas works, lumber yards and large manufactories. The new streets thus formed are named, in receding order from First street, Fremont, Beale, Main, Spear, Stuart and East. To reduce blocks to miles, one has only to know that in the older part of the city the blocks, reckoning east and west, number twelve to the mile, including the streets between. From north to south they are shorter, numbering sixteen to the mile. South of Market street the blocks are about one seventh of a mile long from east to west, and one ninth of a mile wide. In both the older and newer parts of the city, the regular standard blocks are frequently subdivided by one, and sometimes two, smaller streets, running through them each way. Near the city front, the first six blocks, reckoning back from the water, have from one half to two thirds the standard size. Bearing these dimensions in mind, one can readily reduce blocks to miles, and calculate distance and time accordingly.

Approaches to the City.

From only one direction can the traveler approach the city by land; that is, by coming up from the south, through San Jose and the intervening places. From every other direction one approaches by water. Between Sacramento and San Francisco there are two principal routes by rail. The first brings the tourist to Vallejo, sixty miles, and thence twenty-three miles by boat, making a total of eighty-three miles, over the shortest and quickest route. Time, four hours and a half, fare, $3.00.

Approaching by this route, he comes down upon the city from the northeast. On the left, the San Pablo, Berkeley, Oakland and Alameda shores, rising gently back into broad plains, whose further edges fringe the feet of the back-lying hills. Beyond the hills, Mount Diablo. On the larboard bow, as the sailors say, that is, a little southwest, rises Goat Island, or Yerba Buena, three hundred and forty feet. This island looks "very like a whale," and in outline seems a very monster among leviathans at that.

Directly south the waters of the bay stretch so far that one can seldom discern the shore line, and may easily fancy himself looking out to sea in that direction. Further round to the right, that is, more westerly, he may catch a glimpse of Hunter's Point with the chimney and engine house of the Dry Dock. Nearer lies the Potrero, with the suburban city fast creeping up the sides, and crowning the summit of its rocky promontory. From the beach, at its nearest base, stretch out the piers and rise the grimy buildings of the Pacific Rolling Mills. Still nearer you see the south end of the long bridge, stretching southerly across Mission Bay, and connecting the Potrero with the city. In a line with the further end of this bridge, and a mile or more nearer, we have the piers and sheds of the Pacific Mail Steamship Company, with the immense ships of their China line, the largest wooden vessels afloat. The steep slope just to the right of them, on which you see the upper stories of a large brick building, is Rincon Hill, and the building is the U. S. Marine Hospital. That monument, as it seems, is the Shot Tower, while in front of, around and beyond it, you see the usual medley of ordinary city buildings, here and there rising into single or double church spires, broken by the bulk of some big business block, and relieved by the regular lines of intersecting streets.

Right of Rincon Hill, where the city fills a broad hollow, you are looking over what was once the "Happy Valley" of early times. In a line beyond it lies the Mission, which you cannot now discover, backed by the "Twin Peaks," and the high hills which form the back-bone of the peninsula. Still following around, the larger buildings of the older city meet the eye, gradually rising up the southern slope. Those singular minarets or mosque-like twin towers or spires, surmount the Jewish Synagogue. Here and there a church spire shoots above the roofs, but one sees fewer of them than in eastern cities of equal size, because the possibility of earthquakes, and the certainty of high winds, restrain architects and builders from attempting anything too lofty or exposed. Several of the finest churches in the city, spread out on the earth much more than they rise toward heaven. One reason may be that they do not own far in the latter direction.

North of the Synagogue towers, the hill still rises through three blocks, when it reaches its full height in California street hill. Then a slight depression in the hill-top outline, followed by another rise into the Clay street and Washington street hill, two blocks north and three blocks west of the former.

The higher hill still further north but nearer the front, is the famous land-mark and signal-station, Telegraph Hill, from whose top the long familiar observatory has but recently disappeared; prostrated on a stormy night last winter, by one of the giant winds whose fury it had so long defied.

Beyond, or to the right of Telegraph hill, the city falls away to the northwest, and the bay shore also trends in that direction. Black Point, the Presidio, and finally Fort Point, bring us to the Golden Gate.

Unfolding to empire its way,
Wide opened by gold and by fate,
Swung by tides which no nation can stay,
Here standeth the continent's gate.

Through the narrow Gate one has a single glimpse of the grand old sea, which stretches so peacefully away under the sunset. For northern gate-post you have Lime Point; and thence the vision rests on high hills packed in behind, and gradually lifting the gaze to Mount Tamalpais, beyond whose sharply-cut summit, nothing of note attracts the sight. Between us and Tamalpais, four miles nearer and half a mile lower, close at the water's edge, we have the small but beautifully situated town of Saucelito, with its sheltered picnic grounds and tranquil bay. Beyond the Saucelito bay you can almost see through Raccoon Strait, and discover that the higher land nearer the boat is not a point, but an island. Its name is Angel Island. It is the largest and most valuable island in the bay. The Government owns it and occupies its southwestern side with barracks, garrison and parade grounds. Several batteries dot the shore at different points, and a military road around the island, connects them with the garrison.

This other small island of solid rock, crowned with a heavy fortress and girt with forts and batteries, is Alcatraz, the Pacific Gibraltar.

Instead of coming by way of Vallejo, the passenger from Sacramento may come by rail through Stockton, forty-eight miles; thence by rail to Oakland, eighty-six miles; and thence by boat to San Francisco, four miles; making a total distance of one hundred and thirty-eight miles, all rail except the last four. Through fare, $2.50.

By this route you approach the city on the east, and have only to change the point of sight from northeast to east, and remember that Goat Island will be seen close by on the right hand, that is, north of the boat, to make the description of the approach from Vallejo almost equally accurate and easily adaptable for the approach from Oakland, which is the direction from which the great majority approach.

Those who may prefer can have their choice of a third way from Sacramento, and a second from Stockton; that is by steamer, usually leaving each of those cities at noon, and due in San Francisco in eight hours. From Sacramento by water the distance is one hundred and twenty-five miles, and the fare, $1.50; from Stockton, one hundred and twenty miles, fare, $1.50; dinner on board, $1.00; staterooms, $2.00, single berths, $1.00. These boats reach San Francisco so early one seldom needs a stateroom, except in case of illness, or a strong desire for seclusion. Both lines of steamers land at the same pier, at the foot of Broadway, from ten to twelve blocks from the leading first-class hotels.

The only important route of approaching San Francisco, and riding into the city by land, lies on the south, coming from Gilroy, San Jose, Santa Clara, Redwood City, and intermediate places, in the cars of the Southern Pacific railroad. Coming in by this route, one traverses the fertile plains of the Santa Clara Valley, and skirts the foot-hills lying along the western base of the almost mountains, which form the divide between the bay slope and the ocean slope of the broad peninsula. Near Redwood City, and for the succeeding fifteen miles, the track runs between fresh water fields on the west and salt water marsh upon the east. From the Twelve-Mile Farm in, we strike nearer the centre of the constantly narrowing peninsula, and near San Miguel catch the first glimpse of the broad Pacific. The large building just west of the track is the Industrial School, our California House of Reformation. The southern suburbs of the city, through which we enter, present nothing remarkable beyond the usual medley of old shanties, broad vegetable gardens, pleasant, home-like cottages, and here and there the more pretentious suburban residence, increasing in number as we come nearer the centre.

We come in by Valencia street, and reach the station upon Market, just east of its junction with Valencia.

Ocean Approach.

Besides the approaches already mentioned, one may come in from Panama, Mexico, Oregon, the Sandwich Islands, Australia, Japan or China. From whichever he may come, for the last ten miles before reaching the dock, his track will be the same. A few miles west of Fort Point, all these various ocean routes converge into one, enter San Francisco Bay by the Golden Gate, and bear away southward until they intersect, and for a short distance coincide with, the approach from Vallejo, already briefly described.

Conveyances.

HACKS.--Approaching the wharf or the railroad station, you encounter the usual jargon of hotel and baggage runners, each shouting his hotel, hack or coach, as if strength of lungs was his chief stock in trade. It is but simple justice to San Francisco hackmen, however, to say that a more obliging, prompt, and courteous set, can hardly be found in any American city of equal size. That travelers may exactly understand for themselves the law regulating hacks and coaches, we quote order No. 718, of the Board of Supervisors of the city and county of San Francisco:

Section 7. "For a hackney carriage drawn by more than one horse, for one person, not exceeding one mile, $1.50, and for _more_ than one person, not exceeding one mile, $2.50; and for each additional mile, for _each_ passenger, 50 cents. For a hackney carriage drawn by one horse, for one person, not exceeding one mile, $1.00; for more than one person, not exceeding one mile, $1.50; for each passenger, for each additional mile, 25 cents."

Sec. 8. "From any landing of any steamboat, to any point east of the west line of Larkin street, and north of the south line of Brannan street, and east of Third street, shall, in all cases, be estimated not to exceed one mile."

In forty-nine cases out of fifty, no newly-arrived gentleman or lady will have any personal need to know the law; the foregoing is written mainly for the fiftieth. Bear in mind that these rates, like all fares and charges in the Golden State, are payable in gold or its equivalent coin; also, that they are the _highest_. Hackmen often carry for less.

COACHES.--Besides the hacks, one may find hotel coaches, which carry free to the hotel for which they run, or charge fifty cents for each passenger within the limits above specified.

CARS.--The red cars of the City Front line pass the head of the dock every five minutes. These carry one to the very door of the "Cosmopolitan," and "Occidental" Hotels, within one block of the "Lick House," and two blocks of the "Grand Hotel." Directly across the street from the pier of the Sacramento and Stockton steamers, half a block from the landing for passengers by rail, and one block from the landing of those coming by Vallejo, the green cars of the Sutter street line carry one directly by the "Cosmopolitan," the "Lick House," and the "Occidental," and within half a block of the "Grand." On both these lines the rate is ten cents coin for a single fare, or twenty-five cents for a coupon ticket good for four rides.

WAGONS.--At or near any landing, one can always find numbered express wagons, waiting to carry baggage for from 50 cents to $1.00, according to bulk, weight, or distance.

PORTERS.--Black, white and yellow, will serve you for "two bits," that is 25 cents, for carrying any reasonable package within reasonable distance. It is well, however, to keep your eye on porter and package.

BAGGAGE AND PACKAGE EXPRESSES.--Half an hour or more before reaching the city, either by car or boat, agents of the above companies will take your checks and your money, give you a receipt for both, and deliver your baggage, for 25 cents for each ordinary-sized trunk or valise, at any place within the single-fare limits already given. These are reliable and responsible companies, whose agents none need fear to trust. They deliver baggage promptly and in as good condition as received.

Hotels.

The foreign tourist can witness to the great lack of really fine hotels abroad. All England hardly furnishes a single hotel to rank with the best of our second-class hotels in America. Outside of Boston, New York, Philadelphia, Chicago, St. Louis, and Cincinnati, few, even of the northern cities, present any notable hotel attractions to the temporary guest. New Orleans has a single good hotel, but hardly one of the other southern cities has yet outgrown the old-fashioned "tavern."

In respect to these--in good hotels--by the immediate and unanimous verdict of every tourist, San Francisco stands preeminent. Nowhere on the continent can the traveler find beds, tables and rooms superior to those of the "Grand," the "Occidental," the "Cosmopolitan," and the "Lick House," and in no large city of America will he find as reasonable charges, considering the amount and quality of accommodation and the style of service rendered.

The usual standard rate at the four leading first-class houses, is $3.00 a day, for board and room. At the "Brooklyn," "Russ," and "American Exchange," the rates are $2.00 to $2.50 a day, for good rooms and equally good board.

THE GRAND HOTEL.--This magnificent hotel is the newest of all. It stands on the south side of Market street, occupying the whole block from New Montgomery to Second street, and stretching southward along new Montgomery, across Stevenson street to Jessie. Its north front is 205 feet, its west front 335 feet, thus covering over one acre and a half of ground. Its height is three stories, surmounted by a Mansard roof, containing a fourth. Its style of architecture may be called the "modern combination," highly ornamented. In method of construction, it is a complete frame building, surrounded by brick walls of unusual thickness. Its four hundred rooms include chambers, parlors and suits of the amplest dimensions and the richest furnishing. The halls, corridors and stairways are spacious and airy. Through all the halls, at intervals of every few feet, hang coils of fire-hose, each attached to full hydrants, and always ready for instant use. Bath-rooms and toilets abound. Barber-shop, billiard room, and the most elegantly frescoed bar-room upon the coast, occupy the most convenient portions of the basement and first floor. An amply-supplied reading-room, with most luxurious chairs, invites and detains all weary guests. Branch offices of the leading telegraphs, postal delivery box, and all needed facilities for correspondence, are at hand. Hacks stand constantly at the three spacious entrances, and four leading lines of horse-cars radiate thence to every portion of the city and suburbs.

The dining-hall accommodates three hundred. Its tables are of moderate size, surrounded by plenty of room, loaded with abundant "substantials," flanked with all the latest delicacies, and served in the most attentive manner. Breakfast rooms for private parties, and separate eating-rooms for servants and children, immediately adjoin the main dining-hall. A large and well-appointed laundry promptly accommodates guests.

If there's anything else imaginable in the whole list of first-class hotel accommodations, just mention it to your obliging host Johnson, or his courteous and efficient adjutant, Ridgeway, and it shall go hard but they will furnish it for you at once, if it is to be had within the limits of telegraph and express.

THE OCCIDENTAL.--This popular standard house stands upon the east side of Montgomery; its west front occupies the whole block from Bush street to Sutter; stretches its north flank half a block down Bush street, while its south flank goes a hundred and sixty-seven feet down Sutter street. Vertically it rises six stories into the sunshine. Four hundred and twelve elegant single and double rooms, with numerous suits having ample bathing and other accommodations, besides ladies' parlors, dining-halls, billiard-hall, convenient offices, broad stairways, spacious halls, and roomy passages, make up this truly magnificent mammoth establishment. The carpets and furniture are of the most elegant and costly description. A large and beautifully-fitted patent safety elevator adjoins the grand staircase near the main hall, and reading-room at the Montgomery street entrance.

Near the main entrance is a telegraph-office--hacks stand always in front, and four leading lines of horse-cars pass the three entrances. A newspaper and periodical stand, with post-office letter-box, complete the conveniences of the reading-room.

The walls are braced with iron, and securely anchored, besides being connected across the building by heavy iron ties on every story. Manager, Philip McShane.

COSMOPOLITAN HOTEL.--This worthy compeer of the two already described, occupies the southwest corner of Bush and Sansome streets. Centrally-located, elegantly-constructed, conveniently-arranged, and well-furnished, this house is one of the largest and newest first-class hotels. An extensive addition, including some scores of single and double rooms, richly furnished in the most modern style, sufficiently indicate its prosperity. Tubbs & Patten, managers.

LICK HOUSE.--West side of Montgomery, between Sutter and Post streets. Its east front occupies the entire block between these two streets, and runs up between one and two hundred feet of each of them. Whilst this house is excellently finished and furnished throughout, it is especially celebrated for its elegant dining-hall, which is probably more artistically-planned and exquisitely-finished than any public dining-hall in the world. Jno. M. Lawlor & Co., managers.

BROOKLYN HOTEL.--Next to the elegant hotels already named, one may reckon the "Brooklyn"--on Bush street, north side, between Montgomery and Sansome. This excellent house makes a specialty of accommodating families, having an unusually large number of suits of rooms especially designed for their comfort. Its rates are about two thirds of those before mentioned. Hotel coaches convey all guests to the house free of charge. Messrs. Kelly & Wood, proprietors.