The Auriferous City: Eureka Moments in San Francisco

It’s number 79 on the Periodic Table of the Elements. Such an inauspicious number for the mineral that continues to drive the masses on a never-ending search for perpetual wealth and happiness. According to some sources, its symbol, Au, is derived from the Latin aurum, meaning the “glow of sunrise” … a time filled with hope and opportunity before the incessant drone of day begins.

It’s what made California’s Mormon leader Samuel Brannan run through the streets of San Francisco in May 1848, waving a quinine bottle filled with the yellow luster yelling, “Gold! Gold! Gold from the American River!” Miners flocked to the only store at Sutter’s Fort – Brannan’s store – where they would buy his mining wares at inflated prices and help him become California’s first millionaire.

This wonderful depiction of the frenzy known as the California Gold Rush is a cartoon lithograph published by Nathaniel Currier in 1849 and entitled The Way They Go To California. The dock is crowded with men brandishing picks and shovels, some jumping from the dock to reach the departing ship. A crowded airship flies overhead, with one man parachuting down with a pick and shovel. Unbelievably for its time, a man on a rocket flies overhead. Image courtesy of the U.S. Library of Congress.

Soon, as J.S. Holliday so aptly put, the world rushed in to the tiny village of San Francisco. Throngs of emigrant landlubbers began tramping their way west by the Overland Route. Others would brave a three-month voyage around dangerous Cape Horn, or via the shorter but tropical disease-infested land-crossing at the Isthmus of Panama to catch the Pacific shipping route north to San Francisco.

Once they arrived, it seemed most who rushed in proceeded to immediately rush out to the new diggings. Hundreds of ships were abandoned and left unattended. Some would be connected to shore by long wooden piers extending into mucky Yerba Buena cove, becoming instant storefronts, hotels, and saloons. Eventually, some would be buried in the water lots where they sat, as San Francisco’s rolling landscape was leveled. Tons upon tons of rock and sand dunes would be pushed into the bay, setting the foundation for today’s Financial District and forever changing the shape of the City’s shoreline.

By foot or by ferry, gold-seekers made their way to the Sierra foothills in search of their wealth and future happiness. The majority either came away empty-handed, or barely found enough gold to make their way home. Untold numbers died, with some families never learning of their loved one’s fate.

This hand tinted lithograph entitled Independent Gold Hunter on His Way to California was published by Kelloggs and Comstock of New York, and Ensign & Thayer of Buffalo, in 1850. Image available in Section V. Gold Mania Satirized, at the California State Library.

Off they went to the back hills of nowhere with only a pick, shovel, gold pan, and Lady Luck. But, did those Argonauts actually need to leave San Francisco? Could they have found their wealth right here in the City by the Bay?

EUREKA! Gold! Gold on Leavenworth!

What may be the earliest report of gold diggings in San Francisco appeared in the Sacramento Daily Union on May 21, 1855. Men grading Leavenworth street had discovered a “scale” several feet below the surface measuring 8 grains, the equivalent of 0.02 ounces. At today’s gold prices, it’s value would be about $33. The brief article notes, “The diggings then ‘guv out.”

EUREKA! Gold! Gold on Broadway!

In February 1872, quarrymen digging out rock on Broadway between Kearny and Montgomery streets made what was thought to be a valuable discovery. As described in the San Francisco Chronicle, the reporter,

“… found an eager and excited crowd. Every man, woman and child had a chunk of red rock (very valuable, for concrete), and each was busily engaged in endeavoring to detect traces of gold. One reporter found that a vein of mingled quartz and granite, about eighteen inches in width, had been laid bare, and specimens of the rock looked as though a diligent assay might possibly result in a few dollars to the ton; but we wouldn’t care to risk our hopes of future financial independence on the dividends of that mine. The lode or ‘streak’ runs in a northeasterly and southwesterly direction, and dips eastward. The lot on which it was discovered is owned by a Mrs. Cole, and the rock is being quarried by Milles & Brennan, who furnish the rock to Mr. Jordan, the concrete purveyor of the new City Hall. The superintendant of the quarry states that the discovery was first made by the workmen on Thursday afternoon, and that several cartloads of the ‘ore’ must have been hauled off and transformed into concrete before the nature of the rock was known. It is possible that further explorations may develop gold-bearing quartz that would pay for working, but chances are against it. A blast will be exploded this afternoon, which may throw more light on this subject and more rocks on neighbors’ heads.”

EUREKA! Gold! Gold in Bernal Heights!

The first land sold in Bernal Heights had been transferred by auction at the real estate offices of H.A. Cobb and R.H. Sinton, 102 Montgomery Street, on July 14, 1860. The property consisted of “4, 5, and 6 acre lots on the ‘Bernal Heights’ … within 15 minutes drive from City Hall … for sale at a very low rate … The lands, for beauty of locality, commanding scenery and fertility of soil, are not surpassed in the county of San Francisco.” In August 1865, another 66 homestead lots were offered in on the “Cobb Tract” of Bernal Heights and buyers were to receive title and a U.S. patent. In 1863, the original St. Mary’s College for boys was established on the Old Mission Road by the first archbishop of San Francisco, the Most Reverend Joseph Sadoc Alemany. The campus would move to Oakland in 1870, and in later years to Moraga where it is found today.

Yet, despite all of the homesteading, it would not be until May 1876 when the first report of an “alleged gold-bearing ledge” on Bernal Heights appeared in a small legal note in the Daily Alta California. One might suspect that the discoverer, Victor Bessayre, secretary of the Cedar Hill Consolidated Mining and Milling Company in Virginia City, Nevada (home office at 120 Sutter Street in San Francisco), had the savvy and know-how to appreciate what he had found. Soon after, a second 1500-foot location was “claimed” by Payot, Upham & Co., publishers, booksellers, and stationers in San Francisco, adjoining the northwestern edge of Bessayre’s claim.

Soon, word of the find became widespread and the masses embarked on a feverish San Franciscan Gold Rush. As told by a Daily Alta California reporter:

“Out Folsom street, over a romantic bridge which spans the creek, the ascent of Bernal Heights is begun. The grade is very steep by this route, and frequent stoppages are made in order to rest and view the landscape, which, by the way, is well worth the struggle. Soon you meet persons returning from the gold region, nearly all bearing away specimens of worthless red rock with some quartz sprinkled through it. Some shout ‘we have a sight,’ others ask ‘got a prospect?’ while others say ‘no need of going further, boys, all the claims are located.’ After half an hour of weary struggling against the wind and stones, and over the short slippery grass, the ascent of the first and smaller hill is accomplished.

“After resting a moment, an unexpected sight greets you. Fully five hundred people, consisting of men of all ages, from the very aged to the beardless youth, women gayly [sic] attired, children sporting about under the lee of the larger hill – which towers 100 feet above – engaged in various occupations. Most of the men are in possession of small hammers, and are busily engaged breaking the rocks in pieces in vain attempts to find the precious metal. The women and children are seated on the rocks, digging and pecking away, expecting a rich find. After walking around and examining a few specimens in the hands of some lucky gold-hunters, you come across some boards stuck up, resembling a real estate sign, but much smaller, on which is nailed a notice that the parties therein named have located 1500 feet, bearing from the site, in such a direction so far, and so on to place of commencement, with all the dips, spurs, etc.

“Some speculative individual, with an eye to business, has started a beer shop, consisting of a rude table, underneath which there is gracefully placed two beer kegs, and on top sundry glasses and a free lunch. A short distance down from the summit of the hill you notice our glorious standard, the ‘Star-Spangled Banner,’ floating in the breeze, and are attracted toward it and find an itinerant peddler, who thinks there is money in it. He has a small stock of fruit and other edibles …

“… On all their faces you can see enlarged eyes and glowing countenances, whether arising from the difficulty in making the ascension, or the expectancy in securing some favorable location which may become a source of profit to them …

“… The better time to make your visit to the gold regions would be in the forenoon, as the wind does not blow and it is clear. As we turn about to make the descent we notice large numbers on the way up the trail, others going down, which would remind you of a large ant-hill, with its little people going back and forth in their daily labors. With streaming eyes and running nasal organs we clutch our hats in one hand and our kerchiefs in the other, and with tears in our eyes, which are hastily wiped away – not caused, don’t think, by regret as to what we are leaving behind – we are forced into a rapid run, caused by the steep grade. We are comically gazed upon by the inhabitants of the Heights, while we in turn wonder at their leaving so much gold undiscovered for so long a time. Once in a while we gain a level place in pause. On reaching the base of the Heights, we meet anxious squads of twos and threes, just commencing the ascent, who anxiously enquire the way to go, and wish to know if we have any specimens. Recrossing the bridge, we once more regain the vicinity of horse-cars, and other conveniences. Almost every car which arrives at the terminus lands some gold-hunter, who makes the trip and returns, weary and hungry.”

A follow-up article in the Daily Alta California the next month entitled “San Francisco on a Golden Fountain” pointed out:

“The announcements that auriferous veins have been found in the rocks at Bernal Heights and San Quentin, and that claims have been staked off there, suggest several remarks. The claims have been taken as if the claimants could acquire ownership in the same manner as on the unoccupied Federal domain, and as if a land patent from the Government of the United States gave a title like a Mexican grant, subject to the right of others to acquire ownership of any deposits of the precious metals. The American title is absolute in that the patentee owns the gold, as well as the gravel, the sand, the loam where the rock … [Tramper's note: complete sentence illegible due to damage of the original newspaper] … that may be found in it.

“The idea of finding gold in the rocks of the peninsula ending at the Golden Gate has been criticized, but the ridicule shows the … [illegible] … of its authors. Gold, in small … [illegible] … not very different in Santa Cruz and Sonoma counties, and we are assured that the same precious metal was obtained from a well sunk in the yard of the City Jail, on Broadway, and from an artesian well sunk near the center of the block of which the Alta building is part. We confess, however, that we do not anticipate the discovery on our peninsula of any auriferous deposit rich enough to pay for working, and we presume that all the money spent at Bernal Heights or San Quentin, in prospecting, will be thrown away. There is, nevertheless, some satisfaction in knowing or supposing that San Francisco is built upon an auriferous foundation.”

The Bernal Heights diggings appeared to have become quite a topic in the young City. In June of 1876, part of the advertised weekend amusements at Woodward’s Gardens included acts by Thomas Beavans, the Campanlogian; Mademoiselle Clarissa, the Parisian Velocipedist; Blanchette, the Excelsior Contortionist; and, “An elaborate 20-stamp quartz mill will … be operated on some Bernal Heights ore.”

The news of the diggings reached as far as the southland, as the Los Angeles Herald reported:

“Bernal Heights, the scene of the recent quartz discoveries, was visited on Friday by a large number of people, including many California street men. Several additional claims have been staked out, and work will be commenced on some of them to test the question. The whole neighborhood is in a state of excitement.”

The news of gold in Bernal Heights appears to have petered out in the press by July 1876. Yet, it wouldn’t be long until …

EUREKA! Gold! Gold at Ocean Beach!

Ocean Beach is all a-glitter with gold! Who knew? Image from the San Francisco Call. Available at the California Digital Newspaper Collection.

In an article entitled “Black Sand that Glitters with Gold Dust,” the Chronicle announced:

“When the Argonauts of ’49 poured into San Francisco and most without a moment’s delay departed for the mountains, where they risked and lost their lives for a few ounces of the precious yellow metal, they little thought that each mile put between San Francisco and themselves was that much of a distance away from a golden deposit which needed but the most superficial working to produce the most satisfactory results. This, too, within a couple of hours tramp of San Francisco, contracted even as its limits were then, and in such a locality that the greatest of the miner’s necessities, water, could be had in the most profuse abundance. They, however, knew nothing of all this …”

According to reports, New Zealander John Frazer reasoned if, “… streams washed a great deal of gold into the ocean from the mountains, then the ocean would be very liable to throw it upon the beach and there deposit it.” He had already proved his point along Oregon’s beaches where he dug down and found gold in strata of jet black sand, though not in sufficient quantities to expend any further effort to extract it. Frazer next found gold along the beaches of Aptos, near Santa Cruz, where his “pay dirt” allowed him to set up camp and begin washing. It was soon discovered he was on private property and was asked to leave but didn’t. Soon after, Frazer was shot and slightly wounded while resting in his cabin, providing ample motivation to move up north to San Francisco.

This crude map points the way to what was hoped to be a pot of gold at the edge of the American continent on Ocean Beach. Ocean House Road is today’s Ocean Avenue. Lake Merced would be found just beyond the lower right corner of the map. Merced Creek, providing a conduit from the lake to the Pacific Ocean, no longer exists. From the San Francisco Chronicle, July 1878. Available at the San Francisco Public Library.

Frazer then began exploring Ocean Beach where he found more of the easily identifiable black sand, an iron ore derivative call magnetite. At a time when the water of Laguna de la Merced (today’s Lake Merced) was still flowing into the Pacific via Merced Creek, Frazer found his so-called “pay dirt” near the outlet. He and a friend staked a claim on July 17, 1878, identifying the diggings as their own. As word of his find leaked out, and with his bullet wound still fresh in his memory, Frazer felt compelled to partner with a larger crowd. He offered a partnership to members of the Workingmen’s Party, whose power and influence, he believed, would protect all involved from being “… overridden or ‘bulldozed.’” The new claim for the Ocean Beach Mining Camp extended 10,000 linear feet along the water line. Notice was posted three days later and included Frazer, CJ Beerstecher, TK Nelson, CC O’Donnell, Denis Kearney, PT Dowling, John Burns, Clitus Barbour, James Matthews, and William Wellock.

The “gold field” at Ocean Beach was noted to be located just below the Ocean Side House at the end of Ocean House Road (today’s Ocean Avenue). Frazer demonstrated to the reporter how strata of black sand could be separated by layers of ordinary sand as one dug down. At an average reported to be about 3-1/2 feet, Frazer explained that a “bed rock” of hard yellow clay was hit, and it was the black sand strata immediately adjacent to the yellow clay that he claimed was the richest. By example, he dug out some dirt with his hands and, after five minutes, had washed out “mother gold” that the reporter claimed “… would cover the end of an ordinary lead pencil.” One of the partners, Burns, hoped his weekly share would amount to $50 to $60 a week (about $1200 to $1400 today).

Soon, however, local landowner AA Green appeared on the scene and, after seeing some results, staked claim to both sides of the mouth of the creek. Other gold-seekers staked claims to the creek itself so that they could control the water for mining. An FH Collyer stated he had found gold at the site in 1854 but never developed it because of the small amount. The Daily Alta California noted, “The unemployed have complained of lack of opportunity to work, and here is developed an opportunity for each man to work for himself by taking up a claim on the beach.” The article considered that because so many individuals would find employment in the “Beach Gold Fields,” the fact that it would not be gainly employment would be lost to them.

To members of the Workingman’s Party mining at Ocean Beach, the Sacramento Daily Union declared, “Let the Workingman be Watchful.” The finding of gold in substantial and paying quantities on Ocean Beach seemed sensational and the report noted that leaders of the Workingman’s Party, including Kearney, had taken up extensive claims along the beach in the “alleged auriferous region.” They believed the leaders to be acting suspiciously, as if they were “hankering after capital.” They challenged members of the Workingmen to test the “sincerity of their devotion to the cause of Labor, and the reality of their hostility to bloated Capital,” particularly if the claims proved not only true but valuable. The author surmised that followers of Kearney, “… instead of mediating raids upon Nob Hill, would begin looking about for eligible building sites in that locality.”

The Pacific Rural Press noted in October 1878 that the digging of artesian wells had become very popular and provided a series of “how to” articles. It was observed that, while drilling in San Francisco, “… gold has been met with, both in quartz, gravel, and in black sand, though hardly in sufficient quantities to warrant the fear that deep placer mining at San Francisco will detract in any great measure from the ocean beach excitement.”

The fact that so-called “flour gold” could be found in the black sand was reinforced in a Chronicle article in 1892 describing the locations for gold throughout the state of California. San Francisco was noted for its, “… gold-producing beach, which, commencing at the outlet of Laguna de la Merced, extends thence south along the seashore for a distance of about two miles.” It was noted that the gold occurred in strata of magnetic iron ore, “the so-called black sand.” The particles were described as minute, “… almost of atomic fineness.” It was believed that the auriferous beach represented a secondary deposit “… from quartz lodes that formerly existed in the basin.” Gold-bearing quartz veins were also reported to have been located throughout the San Francisco peninsula.

Almost 20 years after attempts by the Workingmen’s Party to join the capitalists in financial glory, I. Banta & Co. of San Francisco announced a demonstration of their recently discovered process for saving fine gold from black sand or gravel. Their new plant was erected about four miles south of the Cliff House, which would place it near the earlier Ocean Beach Mining Camp at Lake Merced.

The Banta chemical process, promoted in the press as, “… ‘two chemically prepared sluice-boxes,’ whatever that may mean, and some peculiar solution to use in connection with them …,” claimed it could wash 20 to 30 tons of sand in 10 hours and only required one man to work it. Furthermore, the process could extract 90% of the gold in black sand, valued then at only 25 to 30 cents per ton. This equates to about $5 to $8 per ton in today’s market, making the yield from 30 tons of sand at the maximum rate of extraction only about $150 to $240 per day – that is, as long as there was still black sand to be had.

Mining men were reportedly anxious to see the process and that, “… it is expected that a large number will be present at the starting up of the works at the beach to-day.” Then, three days later on October 6, the following announcement appeared: “The Banta Chemical plant for saving gold from sand has been disposed of, and was shut down yesterday at the ocean beach, and will not be shown to-day, as was advertised.” I. Banta & Co. was never heard from again.

EUREKA! Gold! Gold in Golden Gate Park!

In 1904, the San Francisco Park Commission was sinking a well near the casino in Golden Gate Park (on the north side near today’s Fulton Street and 6th Avenue), near its northern boundary. A year later, after drilling through fifty feet of sand, the drill encountered a hard red rock. At 120 feet, they hit what was described as a soft blue rock. Three assays were performed on the blue rock, one showing, “… an auriferous yield of $2 a ton (about $50 a ton today), one $8 a ton (about $200 a ton today), and another nothing better than a trace of silver.” The secretary of the drilling company, Amos Currier, noted they were the first to sink a deep shaft in the park, but admitted, “Nothing yet found would indicate that the ledge is rich enough to mine, but if it turns out richer as we go down we will of course try to get permission to take out the ore in commercial quantities.” Apparently, a mother lode was never located.

EUREKA! Gold! Gold in Sutro Heights!

In what the Chronicle described as a “Gold Boom,” laborers digging trenches for a sewer line in 1905 claimed they had discovered gold near B street (today’s Balboa Street) and 47th Avenue. James Daley, one of the laborers, was “struck” by the “profusion of specks glistening in the soft clay. He informed his contractor, Felix McHugh, “… who did not think much of it until Daley declared he was going to stake out a claim. Just to be safe McHugh got his stakes in first …” and claimed the site for his employers and property owners, the Albert Meyer Syndicate. Daley quit the job in disgust and left to share his story. Soon, throngs were standing by the ditch, watching the “sparkling clay being tossed out of the hole. An assay that day was to determine whether it was truly gold, or mica. The result of the assay is unknown.

EUREKA! Gold! Gold in McLaren Park!

Edward Supernaugh, left, Ed Soluago, Carl Summers, and Foreman Theodore Ernst inspect “gold samples” they found at McLaren Park. Dated April 15, 1931. Folder: S.F. Parks-McLaren, Photo ID Number: AAA-6979. Available at the San Francisco Public Library.

The periodic discovery of flecks of gold within the boundaries of the City and County of San Francisco would extend well into the 20th century. A photograph dated April 15, 1931 portrays Edward Supernaugh, listed in local directories as a hospital orderly, Ed Soluago, an engineer, Carl Summers, a clerk, and Theodore Ernst, a City gardener and “foreman,” inspecting “gold samples” found at McLaren Park. The image retells the tale, as told many times before, of the common man in an unending search for uncommon wealth.

Despite these discoveries, no reports of endless riches extracted from any of the various San Francisco diggings were found. Fortunately, the extraction of the City’s gold is not worth the physical or financial effort. If it were, the landscape of San Francisco would be very different today … a big hole in one immense quarry site.

So, before you become overly dazzled by the gold luster shining in the rock below your feet or in the black sand at Ocean Beach, remember: Every single inch of land in San Francisco is owned by someone, whether individual, corporation, or City, State, or Federal government. At a minimum, however, we can all relish in the deep satisfaction of knowing that San Francisco, unlike any other city on the planet, is truly golden.

View Auriferous San Francisco in a larger map
Sources

Helmenstine AM. 10 Gold Facts: Facts About Gold, A Precious Metal and Element. Available at About.Com/Chemistry.
Anonymous. The Gold Rush, People and Events: Samuel Brannan (1819-1889). Available at American Experience on PBS.org.
Owens K. Far from Zion: The Frayed Ties between California’s Gold Rush Saints and LDS President Brigham Young. California History. 2012;89:5-23. Available at the California Historical Society.
Sacramento Daily News, Daily Alta California, Pacific Rural Press, various issues. Available at California Digital Newspaper Collection.
Anonymous. Looking Back at Our History: 1863-1870. Available at St. Mary’s College.
Langley HG. The San Francisco Directory for the Year Commencing March, 1875. Henry G. Langley, Publishers: San Francisco. 1875. Available at Archive.org.
San Francisco Chronicle, various issues. Available at the San Francisco Public Library.
Polk’s Crocker-Langley San Francisco City Directory, 1931. R.L. Polk & Co., of California. Available at Archive.org.
1940 United States Federal Census [database on-line]. Original data: United States of America, Bureau of the Census. Sixteenth Census of the United States, 1940. Washington, D.C.: National Archives and Records Administration, 1940. T627, 4,643 rolls. Available at Ancestry.com.

8 Comments by Evelyn Rose, CTO (Chief Tramping Officer) / April 14, 2013 / Posted in: Natural San Francisco

Those “Plucky” Forty-Niners: The Roots of Pro Football in San Francisco

University of California-Berkeley versus Stanford at Haight Street baseball grounds, bordered by Stanyan, Frederick, Waller, and Cole Streets, San Francisco, November 1893. From the San Francisco Call. Available at the California Digital Newspaper Collection.

Yes, Trampers, history does repeat itself! The San Francisco Forty-Niners are at last returning to the Super Bowl, after a long, dry 18-year absence. Established in 1946, the Niners have experienced periods of greatness. Just to name a few 49er icons: Y.A. Tittle, R.C. Owens, John Brodie, Joe Montana, Freddie Solomon, Dwight Clark, Jerry Rice, Roger Craig, Dwight Hicks, Steve Young, Jesse Sapolu, and Frank Gore. Now, the Niners are blessed with a tatooed, goateed young buck out of Turlock by the name of Colin Kaepernick who can throw like Montana and run like a gazelle. The history of professional football shimmers with Forty-Niner highlights, including the Alley Oop (Tittle to Owens), The Catch (Montana to Clark), The Catch 2 (Young to Terrell Owens), and more recently, The Catch 3 (a.k.a, The Grab, Alex Smith to Vernon Davis), plus Kaepernick’s all-time, all-game, quarterback rushing record in his very first play-off game.

It was sports pioneer Tony Morabito who founded the Forty-Niners, the first major league professional team in San Francisco. According to official Niner history,

“Before World War II, Morabito was convinced the San Francisco Bay Area was ready for a franchise in the National Football League. The Bay Area was a mecca for college football. Fans came in droves to Kezar Stadium to see the Wonder Teams of California-Berkeley and the Wow Boys of Stanford, led by Frankie Albert. St. Mary’s, Santa Clara and the University of San Francisco were also area powerhouses that regularly defeated the University of Washington and Southern California inside the walls of Kezar.”

It took much persistence on the part of Morabito to convince the big league executives from the East and Midwest, but ultimately he won his franchise. The San Francisco Forty-Niners played their first home game (an exhibition) at Kezar Stadium in Golden Gate Park, just west of the Haight-Ashbury, on September 1, 1946 in front of 45,000 roaring fans. The Niners beat the Chicago Rockets 34 to 14.

Morabito’s insight and sense of sports history had brought the first original professional football franchise to the West Coast. (Rams’ fans, please take note: while the Rams began playing in Los Angeles nine months earlier in January 1946, the team actually originated in Cleveland in 1937. And, by the way, the Niners organization has never abandoned the greater San Francisco Bay Area, though the move to Santa Clara 40 miles away in 2014 is nothing short of bittersweet.)

But what was that local history that so informed Morabito? What made San Francisco such a great football town?

No matter what your colors are,

You’d always find it true.

When the football game is over

They’ll all be black and blue.

– Anomymous, San Francisco Call, December 1892

(originally published in the Chicago Tribune)

In 1860, faculty at New England’s Ivy League campuses were banning a popular and more primitive form of college football. The basic tenet of this predecessor was to kick a ball at a goal or run it over a line (a “kicking” or “running” game, respectively). As received by Pony Express, the Daily Alta California reported in December of that year that the abolition of the ritual Sophomore versus Freshmen football games at Harvard College had led to what became known as the practice of hazing:

“Since the prohibition by the College Faculty of the annual game of football, in which the Sophomores and the newly entered Freshmen were accustomed to engage, and which have of late years degenerated into a match at boxing and fighting, to the disgrace of the college Delta, the Sophomores have been much more severe in their initiatory attentions to the Freshmen …. “

“… the Sophs have ‘taken it out’ of the Freshmen by ‘hazing’ them whenever there was an opportunity; that is, have played all sorts of practical jokes upon them. This, of late, has been resisted by the more spunkey Freshmen, and the result is, that the subject has been brought to the attention of the government of the college, who have promptly suspended seven of the more unruly members.”

While loosely organized “running” or “kicking” games may have continued in ethnic neighborhoods, the point of evolutionary divergence from the traditional games of soccer and rugby (as played in the British Isles and by her emigrants to America) to the foundation of modern professional football emerged on November 6, 1869 when Rutgers and Princeton played the first modern college football game (Rutgers won, 6 to 4).

The Noisy Contingent delivering auricular torture at the California-Stanford game, November 1893. From the San Francisco Call. Available at the California Digital Newspaper Collection.

It would be another 23 years before the first intercollegiate football game would be played in California. On March 19, 1892, the “Palo Alto boys ” (whose team manager was future U.S. President Herbert Hoover) met the “Berkeley players ” at the Haight Street baseball grounds (bounded by Stanyan, Waller, Frederick, and Cole Streets – just over a stone’s throw from the future Kezar Stadium) in San Francisco. The crowds were described as “immense.” About 20,000 spectators crammed into the 15,000-seat grounds:

“A dark red was the Palo Alto color, and the students wore it in ribbons around their headgear and sleeves and in buttonholes. Each student carried a little flag and a tin horn, or some other instrument of auricular torture. The Berkeley boys did the same in their colors, blue and gold. Much tooting of horns and shouting was heard, the bronchial accompaniments being a special vocal composition arranged specially for each college.”

Cheering for the Blue and Gold at the Berkeley-Stanford game, November 1893. From the San Francisco Call. Available at the California Digital Newspaper Collection.

Play was to begin at 3 o’clock but then it was realized no one had brought the game ball. A “mounted messenger” was dispatched into town to retrieve one and the game was finally able to begin an hour later. Stanford made one goal and two “touch downs” in the first half, while Berkeley scored two touch downs and a “safety touch” in the second. The final score was Stanford 14-Berkeley 10 [Trampers' Note: According to a compilation of sources available at Wikipedia.com, a touchdown was 4 points, a field goal 5 points, and a safety 2 points. Based on this, Berkeley's score correctly tallies to 10, but Stanford's score based on reported scores is short by 1). Game receipts amounted to $30,000 (almost $750,000 in today's dollars). The coaches split the profits and financed their respective teams for another year.

Stanford fans making their way to the November 1893 football game against the University of California-Berkeley. From the San Francisco Call. Available at the California Digital Newspaper Collection.

November 1892 was a banner month for football. William “Pudge” Heffelfinger, a three-time All-American guard from Yale, was declared the first “professional” football player when he was paid $500 to play for the Allegheny Athletic Association against the Pittsburgh Athletic Club . He recovered a fumble and ran 35 yards to make the game’s only score. Later that same month, the Yale football elite traveled to San Francisco: Heffelfinger, Lee McClung, a teammate of Heffelfinger who also served as Yale’s captain (and who would later become United States Treasurer), and Walter Camp, captain of Yale in the late 1870s and football coach of Heffelfinger and McClung. These three men, especially Walter Camp, are considered the fathers of modern American football.

Berkeley and Stanford were scheduled to face off again at the Haight Street grounds on December 17, 1892. This time, the game benefited from the professional influence of the Yale football statesmen, with Camp coaching Stanford and McClung guiding Berkeley (interestingly they also served as referee and coach, respectively). Heffelfinger was also reported to be in attendance.

San Francisco was in a high level of excitement and anticipation for the big game. Trainloads of spectators were arriving from as far away as Sacramento. This time, it seems, somebody remembered to bring the ball.

“Both teams had trained faithfully and were in the best condition. The University of California men out-weighed the Stanford boys slightly, but the latter made up in quickness what they lost in weight … Berkeley, relying on superior weight and strength, played a bucking game, and when the team had the ball would gradually work their way through Stanford’s ranks without attempting any fancy plays. Stanford played a more scientific came and made some brilliant runs.”

View of the playing field at the Haight Street street grounds, bordered by Stanyan, Frederick, Waller, and Cole Streets in San Francisco, November 1892. From the San Francisco Call. Available at the California Digital Newspaper Collection.

Likely to the dismay of all in attendance, the game ended in a 10-10 tie, but newspapers still billed it as “the prettiest contest ever seen on the Pacific Coast.” In 1893, Heffelfinger would return to coach football at UC-Berkeley, while Walter Camp would do the same at Stanford. No wonder the rivalry would later become known as “The Big Game” in 1900.

Two days after the Berkeley-Stanford game, the morning edition of the San Francisco Call provided an overview of the new-fangled game for the benefit of the uninitiated [Tramper's note: footnotes added],

“Ten or fifteen thousand people went to the football game on Saturday and appeared to enjoy it hugely. It was a new sensation, for there is rather more excitement in football than in baseball. At the latter skill alone commands victory, whereas at the former thews* and sinews are of more consequence than address. The team which can make the strongest rush generally wins, on the Napoleonic principle that fortune is on the side of the heaviest battalions. The game is called football because it is not allowable to use the feet in it. If Ajax still lived, and could enlist four men of his size and muscle to guard him, he would become the champion football player of the day. No one could resist his rushes, and when he got the ball the enemy would merely dash themselves in vain against his stalwart frame in efforts to take it from him. For the idea of the modern football captain is to fling such a force upon the holder of the ball that he shall be knocked down, and probably knocked senseless, then to carry off the ball without meeting with the like experience from the opposite captain.

“Football has become, perhaps, the most popular of our college athletic sports, because it exacts more endurance and especially more pluck than any other. Rowing and baseball involve a strain upon the muscles, but none upon the virile grit. A man may be the veriest poltroon^† and yet may be able to outrow champions, and to pitch so as to distress the most dextrous batter. But a football player must have pluck. He can never reckon out in advance the net results of the shock of his charges. He may be knocked so senseless that it may bother the doctors to restore him, or he may be crippled for life. These chances he must take, and he who takes them gayly, for the fun and glory of the thing, would lead a squadron of horse upon a battery with a smiling face. As courage is an acquired attribute, which is born in few, but can be learned by experience like the small sword exercise, football commends itself as an apprenticeship to one of the most valuable qualities possessed by civilized men. In the old days of the war it was found that the boys who had been the most proficient at athletic games, involving more or less danger to limb, made the best cavalry officers. They were often stupid as owls, but set them on a horse and show them a battery and it was odds they were presently seen sabering the gunners.

“In the last generation the fault of an American collegiate education was that it neglected physical development. A few scholars were evolved, but much fewer men of muscle or men of pluck. In England they were wiser. College authorities winked at the chronic warfare between town boys and gown boys^‡, and when the latter were drafted into the army hard fighting came natural to them. Some thirty years ago the war [Tramper's note: the American Civil War] disclosed our mistake, and ever since the leading colleges of the country – Harvard, Yale, Columbia, Cornell and Princeton – have been careful to educate the combative instinct of their scholars. Our own Berkeley was quick to follow the example. Now, if trouble befall, excellent material for officers would be found in the ranks of college graduates, and especially among the accomplished football players.”

In another Call report one month later entitled Scientific Sport, a writer named only as Puck describes his first introduction to the game and why he eventually quit:

“My interest in this game of football was first aroused by seeing various photographs of crack teams. Then, one day in a gymnasium, I was shown the ball itself. It is a quick, willing affair, shaped like a ripe watermelon, and I had fun with it for an hour. Then a young man who said he was captain of the ‘Athletics’ asked me if I wouldn’t join his team … on the following day I met with the team for practice. Although I found this practice delightful in many ways my suspicions were aroused by a stocky young fellow in a blouse, who persisted in throwing me down every time I secured the ball. I did not resent this as I might have done, because I was assured it was a feature of the game …

“I witnessed a game of football. So far as I could determine, it was this way: The opposing teams, each consisting of eleven in uniforms, faced each other, and the ball was kicked out between them. The most of them settled upon it and formed an amusing jumble of padded legs.

An example of the type of football future U.S. President Herbert Hoover forgot to bring to the first Stanford-Cal football game in November 1892. From the San Francisco Call. Available at the California Digital Newspaper Collection.

“After a moment’s scramble some one aptly remarked, ‘Down!’ Then they all crouched motionless over the ball, while a gifted young man in rear aimlessly recited a mangled version of the alphabet. Just as the recitation was becoming monotonous the whole gang again settled down upon the ball, and each man went into convulsions. The elocutionist climbed up on top of the mass of writhing humanity and danced exultantly upon it.

“This performance was repeated many times, and was, in a way, rather interesting. More collar-bones were broken than anything else I think. Once during the game I asked a man who sat next to me why it was called ‘football’ instead of ‘headball.’ He did not reply. He was a voiceful idiot who yelled most of the time and pretended that he could keep score. It is a rough game – not so many vowels in it, so to speak. I decided that all football-players should speak the Welsh language, enjoy Wagner and eat horse feed …

“Immediately after the game was over I sought the captain of the Athletics and firmly resigned from the team. ‘But you don’t understand the game yet,’ he expostulated. ‘Why, man, it’s the most scientific game played.’

Time out at the 1893 Cal-Stanford game at the Haight Street grounds to attend to an injured player. From the San Francisco Call. Available at the California Digital Newspaper Collection.

“‘I grant you that,’ I said in my scholarly way; ‘but the game is not what it should be; it is handicapped by the restrictions which I presume are imposed against the use of artificial weapons … The game as now played, compared with what it could be made, is as crude as were the ancient ways of battle … you don’t even allow a man to use a club, and the most primeval and degraded savage availed himself of that simple weapon … Of course, there is science in it, if by ‘science’ you mean calculated and concerted effort – there is science in all battles … But they shall never have any of my own personal blood to spill around over a barren waste of ground with white lines painted on it.”

Football safety is as much of a concern now as it was in 1892. Yet, it would be nearly a century before science, medicine, and technology began to converge to develop football uniforms akin to Star Wars’ Stormtroopers. In the Gay Nineties, however, football gear appeared to be designed more for the protection of vanity than the bone-breaking, head-knocking, sometimes paralyzing and fatal injuries players were experiencing. A November 1892 article in the Call described the late 19th century uniform innovations over the previous 10 years:

“PADS AND THINGS.

Devices Worn by Football Players.

ARMOR PLATE FOR THE NOSE.

The Many Improvements That Have Taken Place in the Game of Kicks.

The uniform of football circa late 1880s. Walter Camp, captain of the Yale team in 1878-1879, would later become the father of modern football and coach at Stanford. From Football Days, Memories of the Game and the Men Behind the Ball, by William H. Edwards. 1916. Moffat, Yard, and Co. Available at Project Gutenberg.

The uniform of football circa late 1870s. Walter Camp, captain of the Yale team in 1878-1879, would later become the father of modern football and coach at Stanford. From Football Days, Memories of the Game and the Men Behind the Ball, by William H. Edwards. 1916. Moffat, Yard, and Co. Available at Project Gutenberg.

“With the onward and upward rush of the game of football many new and startling changes have taken place both in the physiognomy and apparel of the player. The game is now the representative college sport and has been in vogue in American about seventeen years, during which time the percentage of cripples has largely increased.

“As it is now played it is a modification of the Rugby game of England. At the time of its introduction here the pastime was in a very crude state regarding the appliances thereunto appertaining. On this account the players devoted all their time and attention to acquiring a mastery of the rule, laying off between games to recover from the injuries sustained while pursuing their studies.

“As a high degree of proficiency increased the danger of broken legs and necks the brainy men of the football fraternity set to work to lessen the risks of becoming cripples or disfigured for life. The result can now been seen wherever football is played according to Hoyle,^§and the sport is not so remunerative to the surgeon as it used to be.

The “modern” football uniform of the 1890s. Player William “Pudge” Heffelfinger of Yale helped bring “science” to the game of football. From American Football, by Walter Camp. 1891. Harper & Brothers. Available at Project Gutenberg.

“Visit a game on any of the college grounds, at Central or Golden Gate parks and you can see all the latest improved football machinery to date. The top notch has not been attained, but the difference between the apparatus of ten years ago and that in use at the present is apparent, even to the novice.

“In this respect football has kept pace with baseball. Where the backstop of the latter team wears his face incased in a wire mask the football player protects his nose with a sheet-iron copper-riveted armor or nosebag which he carefully straps to his nasal organ before jumping into the fray. This prevents the flattening of the nose should he jam it against the skull of an opposing rusher.” [Trampers' Note: Apparently, the impact from what could be likened to a ship's metal bow ramming the opponent's thinking parts was not considered.]

“In the matter of padded trousers the college athlete has kept pace with his brother of the green diamond. The base-runner has portions of his trousers padded to prevent the ruffling up of his epidermis while sliding from bag to bag, and the heavily quilted pantaloons of the football man lessens the danger of a broken leg from a misguided kick.

“In the matter of shoes the college man is debarred from using the razor-edged metal plates that adorn the soles of the ballplayer’s shoes. The reason is obvious. In baseball, where the player does no kicking whatever except at the umpire, men are frequently cut and gashed in a horrible manner. In football these plates would simply result in slaughter, so little bars of leather have taken their place.

Innovations in protection of vanity. The "nosebag" was made of copper-riveted sheet iron. Despite the number of serious head injuries and the number of other central nervous system trauma, helmets were not mandatory. From the San Francisco Call. Available at California Digital Newspaper Collection.

Example of innovation in the protection of vanity. The “nosebag” was made of copper-riveted sheet iron. Despite the number of serious head injuries and other types of central nervous system trauma, helmets would not be mandatory for another fifty years. From the San Francisco Call. Available at California Digital Newspaper Collection.

“Some players also wear shin-guards similar to those adopted by cricketers. These are strips of heavy canvas or leather strapped to the leg between the knee and ankle and greatly lessen the pain of random kicks received in rushes. Since the introduction of this appliance limps are less apparent on the field of carnage.

“Another item on which the football inventor is still at work is an ear-guard, which will fill a long felt want when perfected. It is not an uncommon occurrence for a player to have an ear shaved off by coming in contact with the sharp shoulder-blades of an opponent, and in some instances large bagsful of damaged ears have been picked up after the game.

“What the player wants is an apparatus which will allow him to retain his ears and his hearing at the same time. The machine now in use is a large pad strapped to the side of the head. It protects the ear, but the player cannot hear the orders or signals from his captain. Therefore the pad is not popular. It is said that some of the greatest inventors of the age are at work on this problem.

These heavily padded pantaloons helped protect players from broken bones due to errant kicks by teammates and opponents alike. From the San Francisco Call. Available at the California Digital Newspaper Repository.

“[Players have] a luxurious crop of hair that covers his head in a thorough manner … Ten years ago it was the custom to wear caps while at play, but now the athletes perform bareheaded. The cap will not stay on during the heat of the scrimmage, but as the player must have some protection for his head he lets his hair grow from the time he begins practice until after the game. This guards against scalp wounds, and also gives the wind a chance.”

Incredibly, the helmet would not become mandatory football attire until 1943. Football helmets were invented by the father of carrier aviation, Admiral Joseph Mason Reeve, for the Army-Navy game of 1893. Legend has it that Admiral Reeve had been kicked in the head so many times that his physician advised one more impact would lead to “instant insanity.” While his invention was not widely used, it was adapted for use by paratroopers in World War I. Some players wore soft leather head gear in the early 1900s, which became harder leather in the 1920s. Then, John T. Riddell invented the plastic helmet in 1939 that would forever change the game.

So, whether you’ll be rooting for the Cal Bears or the Stanford Cardinals at the Big Game on November 23, 2013, remember to pay homage to both teams. Were it not for the intensity of their 120-year rivalry, Morabito may have never considered the potential for San Francisco to become a frenzied, big league football town.

To paraphrase: The Pluck’n Forty- Niners! Tramp the Ravens!

* Thews: muscular or physical strength

† Poltroons: defined as “wretched cowards”

‡ Gown boys: According to the Online Etymology Dictionary, this was a collective singular for “residents of a university.”

§ The identify of Hoyle and his relationship to football is unknown.

View The Roots of Pro Football in San Francisco in a larger map
Sources

Anonymous. The Founder: Tony Morabito. Available at 49ers.com.
Anonymous. St Louis Rams Chronology. Available at StLouisRams.com.
Anonymous. Nov. 12: The Birth of Pro Football. Available at Pro Football Hall of Fame.
Various articles from the Daily Alta California, San Francisco Call, Los Angeles Herald. Available at the California Digital Newspaper Collection.
Anonymous. Rutgers Football History. Available at ScarletKnights.com.
Anonymous. The Big Game: History and Tradition. At GoStanford.com.
Anonymous. Football Firsts. Available at Pro Football Hall of Fame.
Dictionary.com.
American Etymology Dictionary.
Edwards, William H. Football Days, Memories of the Game and the Men Behind the Ball. 1916. Moffat, Yard, and Co. Available at Project Gutenberg.
Camp, Walter. American Football. 1891. Harper & Brothers. Available at Project Gutenberg.
Stamp, J. Leatherhead to Radio-head: The Evolution of the Football Helmet. October 1, 2012. Available at Smithsonian.com.

No Comments by Evelyn Rose, CTO (Chief Tramping Officer) / January 31, 2013 / Posted in: Recreation in San Francisco

Tagged: Cal, Candlestick Park, Football, Haight Street Baseball Grounds, Herbert Hoover, history, Kezar Stadium, Lee McClung, National Football League, NFL, Recreation, San Francisco, San Francisco Forty-Niners, Sports, Stanford, The Big Game, University of California-Berkeley, Walter Camp, William "Pudge" Heffelfinger

Tramping Close to Home: Adventures in Backyard Archaeology

After a brief hiatus, Tramps of San Francisco is back on track, searching for evidence of the City’s forgotten histories! After unearthing the story of the proposed Mission Park and Zoological Gardens, along with three months of weekly research and posting of new topics in what was supposed to be a leisurely hobby, it was time to sit back and revisit the concept of moderation. It became apparent that in order to remain sustainable, greater balance between Tramps and other activities is required.

Thanks to those who have shown your support during Tramps’ respite, as well as those new Trampers who signed up for email notifications and registered Likes and Follows during the downtime. Virtual treks in search of San Francisco’s forgotten histories are returning, but will now occur with less frequency than weekly.

Given that, embarking on long tramps and extended excursions to discover our local history is not necessarily a requirement. Sometimes, clues may be found in locations as close as our own backyard. This was my eye-opening discovery when I recently began to prepare our backyard for new sod.

I received my bachelor’s degree in anthropology more years ago than I’d like to recall. Then, a few years after moving to San Francisco, I participated in the initial phases of an archaeological dig at a Miwok shell mound on Strawberry Point in Marin County. After all these years, the urge to lay out a grid and dive head first into dirt with a trowel, whisk, and dental pick has never really left me.

We moved to the Glen Park district several years ago. Unfortunately, the previous owner of 20 years did not disclose any details about the history of the lot or structure, so I’ve always been curious about what might lie beneath.

We had our first chance at a peek a few years ago after removing a diseased 50-year old Monterey pine tree. All we found, however, was an extensive root system. We eventually expanded an existing patio throughout much of the yard, and added a raised planting area in the middle to cover the partially ground stump. This left only the perimeter of the yard available for future digging and planting.

The rear retaining wall, approximately 10 feet high. It appears to be made of an old type of concrete composite, with slots for beams, and some remnants of wood beams. Copyright: Evelyn Rose, TrampsofSanFrancisco.com.

Our backyard is small and can only be accessed by ascending eight steps to reach the top of a 5-1/2 foot retaining wall. Once in the yard, one is faced with a 10-foot high retaining wall at the rear that is constructed with an old composite-like concrete. The wall ends abruptly at the southern border of the property, and to the north it is replaced by an old wall made of small blocks of rock and concrete. About 7 feet above ground, our concrete retaining wall has slots for what might have been used for beams. They are spaced about one foot apart, and a few have vestiges of old wood. In the middle, a single buttress protrudes from the wall into the ground. There is also a remnant of a masonry wall on the south side. It is an earthy red and has evidence of an embossed floral pattern. Finally, along our north boundary rests a two-foot high wall made of what appears to be a very old form of masonry, with a small keystone positioned in the middle.

These structures have been a mystery to us since the day we moved in. Clearly, something was constructed here a very long time ago. But, what was it?

The north wall is about two feet high, is comprised of an early form of masonry, and had a keystone in the middle (just to the left of the shadow of the tree trunk and post). Copyright: Evelyn Rose, TrampsofSanFrancisco.com.

Researching the history of our lot has led us to some surprising revelations. While our house was built in the mid-1920s, a previous owner had moved our structure to today’s address in the Fall of 1959. After some investigation, we believe that our structure’s original location abutted the automotive divide known as the Bernal Cut between the Bernal Heights and Glen Park districts. A little more digging and we surmised the move may have been the result of the conversion of San Jose Avenue in the Cut from a more peaceful two-lane road and railway into what may have been anticipated to become a polluted and blustery four-lane shortcut to a major freeway.

While former Governor Pat Brown and others believed that progress meant snaking a series of freeways back and forth, up and down, and over and under the City of San Francisco, the neighborhoods about to be bisected didn’t agree. In Glen Park, the San Francisco Freeway Revolt was spearheaded by a group of women who became known as the Gum Tree Ladies. Their gumption and determination helped guide the San Francisco Board of Supervisors to vote down seven of nine freeways throughout the City in January, 1959. This stopped dead in its tracks a plan for a major route right through Glen Canyon that would have bored under Twin Peaks and Mount Sutro. Initially proposed as the Circumferential Expressway (and later renamed the Crosstown Freeway), it would have emerged at the southeastern edge of Golden Gate Park before galumphing its way to the Golden Gate Bridge.

Section of block with an embossed floral design. The perimeter of the image is in black and white, in order to highlight the embossing in the center with actual color . Copyright: Evelyn Rose, TrampsofSanFrancisco.com.

While we don’t know for certain, it’s possible our house may have been peripherally connected to a major and important early environmental grassroots movement in San Francisco. Once victory was achieved, the previous owner may have desired refuge from the increasing noise and pollution of an already expanded San Jose Avenue, literally picked up the house and moved it almost a mile. It must have been some sight to see the house crawling up a hill!

Next, we discovered papers at the San Francisco Water Department documenting a request for a water hook-up on our lot about one month after the 1906 San Francisco Earthquake. This may help explain an old, rusted water pipe sticking out of the masonry wall on the north side of our property. In earlier landscaping activities, we had found a knob from an old gas stove and a small, white porcelain insulator used in early 20th century electrical systems. These all represented to us tangible evidence of our lot’s first tenant.

One month after the San Francisco Earthquake and Fire, a carpenter from Canada applied for a water hook-up. This old water pipe coming through the wall may be a evidence. Copyright: Evelyn Rose, TrampsofSanFrancisco.com.

Research of census records found that the gentleman was originally from Canada and worked as a carpenter, a much-needed trade during the years of reconstruction following the Earthquake. I’ve misplaced an additional document but I recall it stated he was living in nothing more than a shack in 1930. His death certificate indicates he was still living on this lot at the time of his passing in 1932, a demise described as traumatic and requiring an inquest. Whether any conclusions were reached by the medical examiner requires additional research.

But, was the carpenter the very first tenant on our lot? Now that we know our neighborhood was included as part of the lands of the Mission Park and Zoo, I’m viewing the rear retaining wall and the short wall on the north side of our backyard from an entirely new perspective. Are these structural remnants evidence of the carpenter’s shack? Were they outbuildings of one of the Rock Gulch (an early name for Glen Canyon) dairies established in the 1870s? Or, could they be remnants of structures built by Mission Zoo management during the zoo’s heyday in 1898 and 1899?

As I recently prepped the yard for the laying of sod, I turned the soil with a shovel. Holding my leaf rake parallel to the ground, I sifted the dirt and filtered plant material for composting. As a happenstance, other buried objects were revealed. I unearthed a variety of intriguing artifacts, including two types of white porcelain fragments, shards of clear glass (one with scalloping on the edge), brown glass, and a thick (1/4″) piece of translucent glass. In addition, I found a 1960s-era plastic toy soldier, a small, curved piece of a white and green milk glass, two small river-worn rocks, a piece of old brick, a nice piece of greenish-black serpentine (with a silky, obsidian-like feel), and an old and very rusty 5-1/2″ long, 1/2″ thick hex bolt with a 1-1/2″ washer.

While the hex bolt was impressive, the surprise find was along the southern edge of the yard, 5″ down in the rich Glen Park soil. My shovel scraped along what I first thought was a rock but, upon closer inspection, it was something far better. I quickly grabbed my trowel and whisk, got close down in the dirt, and soon unveiled a concrete pedestal measuring 9″ by 9″, with a raised edge 1-1/2″ wide all around. In the center were three small, rusted spikes that had originally pointed upward but that had since been pounded sideways. It seemed very well made with a fine cement and did not appear to be cheaply constructed, as might have been used to

Artifacts located while gardening include pieces of porcelain, glass, stone, a child’s toy, and a large and very rusted hex bolt and washer. Copyright: Evelyn Rose, TrampsofSanFrancisco.com.

construct a shack.

The next weekend I planned to lay sod on the opposite side of the yard. I was anxious to see if another pedestal was positioned exactly opposite from the first. Unfortunately, I had started later in the day than originally planned. The dirt on the north side was much harder to dig into. After some effort, and with a hefty dose of rain predicted within the hour, I hastened to finish the task at hand: the laying of sod. I would have to leave the archaeological dig for another time.

What appears to be a base for a pedestal was uncovered five inches beneath the soil. Measuring 9 inches by 9 inches, it appears to be made of a fine concrete. Copyright: Evelyn Rose, TrampsofSanFrancisco.com.

After 1932, it would be 27 years before our lot would again be occupied. The assortment of items found in the soil, the buttressed retaining wall, an old masonry wall with a keystone, a remnant of wall with floral embossing, and a finely made cement pedestal all represent intermittent use of our lot for over a century. Whether the structures that remain have any historic value remains to be seen.

In September, 2012, the San Francisco Board of Supervisors unanimously approved legislation to simplify and standardize the application process for the Mills Act Program. The Mills Act promotes the preservation of historic landmarks and is considered the greatest economic incentive in California for private property owners of historic buildings. It’s possible these remnants of structures might not qualify for the program, but the carrot that dangles in the form of property tax reduction certainly provides an impetus to continue with our property’s research.

So what’s in your backyard? Become a backyard archaeologist and document your property’s history by:

Familiarizing yourself with the history of your city, with particular attention to the history of your neighborhood. Identify features of your property that may predate your house, and whether similar features can be found elsewhere in your neighborhood;
Examine historic resources at your local library, historical societies, and online, including newspaper archives, municipal reports, and old City phone books and directories;
Review the file of your property’s documents at your local City Hall and utility departments. Learn more about how to research your property from the Landmarks Preservation Advisory Board (1992, revised 1993 – while the information provided remains pertinent, addresses and telephone numbers may have changed), available at the San Francisco Public Library;
Perform genealogical research about your property’s former residents, if known. If unknown, use genealogical records (such as those maintained by Ancestry.com) to help identify former residents of your address;
Search the Web using key terms specific to your area, using a variety of combinations. You’ll be amazed at what you come up with;
Multi-task while gardening: refresh the look of your yard and seek historic (and possibly even prehistoric) artifacts;
Get a shovel, leaf rake, trowel, whisk, and even a dental pick, go out to your backyard, and start digging! Laying out a grid is the preferred method of excavation used by archaeologists. This helps establish the context of a particular artifact in relation to other identified artifacts and the grid site at large. While you may not want to lay out a grid over your entire backyard so that you can maintain easy access, you may want to grid a section of your yard as a science project for young and old alike. The Friends of Bonnechere Parks in Ontario, Canada, provide an easy plan to follow;
Use your leaf rake to sift material, or construct a shaker screen (see example on Flickr). Keep a record of the location and description of any artifacts you may find. If you locate something that may seem especially noteworthy, contact an expert for more information;
Several residential areas in San Francisco and other locales were formerly cemeteries. Perhaps some areas where you live were once Native American burial grounds. While such a find may be unlikely on your property, unearthing any evidence of human remains requires you to immediately stop digging and call your local medical examiner or coroner (check the laws of your area for the appropriate action);
Evaluate your findings and determine whether an application to the Mills Act Program (for residents of California; other states may have similar laws) is warranted.

Sources

Carlsson C. Revisiting the San Francisco Freeway Revolt. Available at SF.StreetsBlog.org.
Issel W. “Land values, human values, and the preservation of the City’s treasured appearance”: environmentalism, politics, and the San Francisco Freeway Revolt. Pacific Historical Review. 1999;68:611-646.
Verplanck CP. Glen Park: The architecture and social history. Available at San Francisco Apartment Association.
Anonymous. Board of Supervisors votes to expand access to Mills Act Property Tax Relief. Available at San Francisco Architectural Heritage.

No Comments by Evelyn Rose, CTO (Chief Tramping Officer) / December 2, 2012 / Posted in: Recreation in San Francisco

Tagged: Archaeology, Artifacts, Backyard Archaeology, dairy, Genealogy, Glen Canyon, Glen Park, Historic Preservation, history, Mills Program, Mission Park and Zoological Gardens, Rock Gulch, San Francisco, San Francisco Earthquake, Tramping

The San Francisco Mission Zoo: Wilder Days in Glen Park (Part VI)

Part VI: Glen Park: Prequel to the San Francisco City Beautiful Movement?

Map of the proposed Mission Park and Zoological Gardens in Glen Park, drawn by Berkeley landscape architect George Hansen for the realty firm Baldwin & Howell in July, 1897. After examining “every acre of tract,” Hansen had located the “… houses, cages, and inclosures [sic] with due regard to the convenience of visitors, topography of the land, and habits and temperaments of the birds and animals.” From the San Francisco Chronicle, July 18, 1897. Courtesy of the San Francisco Public Library, Articles and Databases. (Click image to enlarge)

Over the last five posts of The San Francisco Mission Zoo: Wilder Days in Glen Park, we have unearthed a long forgotten history. How many times have we traipsed over the trails running parallel to Islais Creek in Glen Canyon, south of Twin Peaks, oblivious to the historical significance of the area? For nearly a century, residents and visitors appear to have been doing so.

We’ve become more familiar with a man of stature and determination, A.S. Baldwin of the realty firm Baldwin & Howell, hired by the Crocker Estate Company in 1897 to manage and sell home lots in a new residential subdivision soon to be called Glen Park Terrace. And, just how would he attract prospective buyers to the new but remote residential subdivision? Baldwin surmised if the masses were tempted to venture out to visit a new zoo and park in the Outside Lands of San Francisco that, after enjoying the shows, scenery, and fresh air, they would decide they wanted to live there, too.

The idea had the support of the local community improvement associations (ie, Sunnyside, West of Castro Street, Fairmount, Ingleside, Lakeview, Ocean View, Holly Park, Mission Five-mile, and Noe clubs), who wanted a “breathing spot” near them that would not require half a day’s travel to visit Golden Gate Park. Yet, in his effort to sell the Gum Tree Tract to the City and County of San Francisco, Baldwin would be accused of “jobbery” and perpetration of a land scheme due to his offering of the land at up to nine times the value assessed by the City. The debate over the purchase of the property belittled as a “Monkey Ranch” became so inflamed that Baldwin, while defending his personal and professional reputation, would be physically assaulted by a member of the San Francisco Board of Supervisors just a step outside of the Board’s chambers, causing Mayor James D. Phelan to intercede. Even the founding president of Stanford University, David Starr Jordan, became involved by referring to the zoo as “Squirrel Hollow.” After all, the opposition declared, if funds are diverted to a new park and zoo, Golden Gate Park would be “… crippled for lack of funds.”

Then we made the surprising discovery that prominent San Francisco architect Frank S. Van Trees had designed a monumental “Italian renaissance” concept to exhibit some of the animals for the zoo. Van Trees’ concept predates by 16 years the grand, classic design by Lewis P. Hobart for the California Academy of Sciences the City would ultimately build in Golden Gate Park.

When the City rejected the purchase of the Gum Tree Tract in September, 1898, Baldwin was not deterred, and he forged ahead with his plans. Ground was never broken for Van Trees’ building, but other structures for the pleasuring grounds were already being built throughout the area before the supervisors had made their final decision. Once the zoo officially opened in October, 1898, fantastic and spectacular acts drew 4,000 to 8,000 visitors on Sundays. On Dewey Day, May 2, 1899 (honoring Admiral George Dewey on the first anniversary of his defeat of the Spanish Fleet in the Philippines), almost 42,000 people attended the festivities. According to comments of the day, the Mission Park and Zoo had achieved the popularity and success of the City’s previous big draw, Woodward’s Gardens, that had closed seven years earlier.

In addition to Van Trees’ design, a new discovery finds that Baldwin developed his open-space concept with the aid of another prominent designer of the day, Berkeley landscape architect George Hansen (view Hansen’s map of the proposed park in the image above) for land that,

“… by reason of its topography is peculiarly adaptable for a park and zoological garden … It is gratifying to know that the struggle against nature experienced in bringing Golden Gate Park to the perfection it now enjoys will not have to be repeated on this property. No costly outlay for loam and fertilizers will be necessary. The soil … is rich, and, with cultivation, the establishing of windbrakes, groups of shade and avenue trees and palms, and clusters of shrubbery, will be but a matter of a very few years.”

Included among Hansen’s plans is an answer to the origin of the dirt road in Glen Canyon that now runs from Elk Street near the tennis courts northward and parallel to Islais Creek, a road commonly referred to by locals today as “Alms Road.” As described by Hansen,

“One of the most attractive features connected with this property and its proposed system of avenues is the fact that a driveway through the canyon in the westerly part of the tract can be constructed at a very small expense. The grade of this roadway will be very slight from the San Jose road to the northwesterly corner of the proposed park. This avenue will connect at this point with Glen avenue, in the Stanford Heights Addition [Miraloma Park], and will from there on follow the streets and avenues in this addition along easy grades to the Corbett road [Portola Drive] intersecting at this point with the Almshouse road [Woodside Avenue to Laguna Honda Boulevard to 7th Avenue], and thus constituting a most picturesque driveway from the mission district to the park [Golden Gate], over comfortable grades, by a direct and short route. This avenue may, in fact, be termed a branch of the Balboa boulevard, and as soon as it is completed it will be recognized as one of the most enjoyable drives within the city limits …”

“The driveways and paths have been arranged with due regard to the contour of the property, and the roads, with the exception of Diamond street, have so small a percentage of grade that, to the eye, they will appear, when built, almost level. The main avenue, sixty feet in width, as will be seen by referring to the map, extends through the canyon and follows, on almost a perfect grade, the contour of the ground, until it connects with Sussex street, in the Castro-street Addition. It is proposed to construct another driveway from the Berkshire-street entrance [a remnant of Berkshire exists today as Kern Street, across from the Glen Park Branch of the San Francisco Public Library; Berkshire ran westerly to Burnside Avenue], following along the slope of the hills to the south and west [this appears to be describing the Bosworth entrance] and connecting with the main avenue [Glen Avenue] at a point about half way up the canyon. This leaves a space between the two roads clear and makes it particularly desirable for a recreation and playground for children.”

In referring to Hansen’s map above, there is a gradual slope on the northwestern end of the canyon that today emerges near the southwestern corner of the Ruth Osawa San Francisco School of the Arts football field. It seems that the outlet entering the parking lot adjacent to O’Shaughnessy Boulevard near its intersection with Portola Drive from the direction of the canyon is a remnant of the western terminus of Glen Avenue, a diagonally routed road that appears on Crocker’s Guide Map of the City of San Francisco (1902, available at the North Baker Research Library, California Historical Society), the Chevalier Map of San Francisco (1915, available at the David Rumsey Map Collection), and the Baldwin & Howell Map of the City and County of San Francisco (1925, available in the Baldwin & Howell Records, San Francisco History Center, San Francisco Public Library). Readers may also recall from reading the post about Richard Chenery that the western extension of Chenery Street in Glen Park between today’s Diamond and Elk Streets was also named Glen Avenue until being renamed Chenery Street in 1909.

In viewing all of these maps, the route of the main dirt road in today’s Glen Canyon seems to connect the ends of the two former Glen Avenues quite nicely. Because it was planned to connect with the true Alms Road is likely why it has been incorrectly referred to as Alms Road over the years.

Much of the road on Hansen’s map that appears to begin at today’s Bosworth entry into Glen Canyon seems to have been obliterated by the construction of O’Shaughnessy Boulevard, completed in 1941. Most of the rock and dirt blasted while clearing the new road was pushed into the canyon, creating a new steep but gradual slope. In examination of Hansen’s design, it is remarkable how shear the face of the O’Shaughnessy side of the canyon used to be.

Hansen went on to propose that,

“The approach to the park through the ‘Gum Tree’ grove should be reserved for pedestrians exclusively, as it will be at this point that the San Mateo electric road will take on and deliver passengers bound to and from the Park, and it be be but a short while before the car lines will find themselves taxed in handling the crowds that will visit the ‘zoo.’ This entrance, therefore, will be a busy place, and it should be as far as possible free from danger of passing vehicles.”

What he is referring to is today’s intersection of Diamond and Chenery, where a grove of eucalyptus trees used to stand.* It explains why the main entrance to the Park was always listed as “Diamond and Chenery” in the Crocker-Langley San Francisco Directories into the 1900s. Carriages were being encouraged to enter the park along today’s Bosworth entrance.

Hansen had described the development of Golden Gate Park as a “struggle against nature” because of the need modify a barren landscape comprised of sand and dunes into a fertile topsoil. He believed this would not be the case for the Gum Tree Tract, that the warm, sunny exposure, the vistas available from the top of the hills adjacent to the canyon, the natural plateaus surrounding the canyon that could house the animals and provide resting places for visitors, and with the “natural amphitheater” in the southern end of the canyon protected from wind by the high bluffs, could make the Mission Park and Zoological Gardens the “most unique and picturesque zoological garden in the world.”

The Italian renaissance design for the zoo structure, a call for a “breathing spot” or “breathing place,” the planting of thousands of trees, the accessibility to city-dwellers, construction of roads and boulevards passing through and connecting with other “pleasuring grounds,” the need to promote the intellectual development of young people, a city as beautiful and as well planned as the great cities of Europe. Not only were these concepts integral to the push for the City to accept and develop the Mission Park and Zoological Gardens but also to Daniel Burnham’s City Beautiful Movement in San Francisco almost a decade later. Could there be a relationship?

By the late 1890s, American society had witnessed great upheaval. The products of the Industrial Revolution had helped move a large portion of the population from an agrarian lifestyle to shoulder-to-shoulder urbanism in a relatively short period of time. In San Francisco and other cities, greenery was generally lacking, the air was no longer fresh, and living conditions had become unhealthy. As the United States began to emerge from an economic depression (1893-1897), the middle and upper classes began to seek more suburban living within easy reach of their city’s business and entertainment opportunities. The populace realized it may not be able to turn back the clock of progress, but certainly there must be ways to reclaim the nostalgic past and maintain the moral and civic values of their former way of life.

This desire to return society to its moral and civic roots was the genesis of the City Beautiful movement. According to an article about the movement in Washington, DC, posted by the University of Virginia:

“Generally stated, the City Beautiful advocates sought to improve their city through beautification, which would have a number of effects: 1) social ills would be swept away, as the beauty of the city would inspire civic loyalty and moral rectitude in the impoverished; 2) American cities would be brought to cultural parity with their European competitors through the use of the European Beaux-Arts idiom; and 3) a more inviting city center still would not bring the upper classes back to live, but certainly to work and spend money in the urban areas.”

The Beaux-Arts style of architecture came from L’Ecole de Beaux-Arts at the University of Paris, the leading school of architecture of the day. The basic tenet of the style was to bring broad designs to cities the could lead to more effective and harmonious urban planning, which were intended to promote economy, efficiency, and good citizenship among its residents. The style had achieved a successful outcome in the modernization of Paris and some American architects wanted to bring the style to major cities in the United States, an idea welcomed by civic organizations across the country.

One of these architects was Daniel Burnham, Director of Construction at the World’s Columbian Exposition in Chicago, 1893. Burnham designed and oversaw the first application of the Beaux-Arts style in the United States, a monumental “White City” that was said to shimmer both day and night. The buildings were of Neo-Classical and Renaissance Revival design, of similar size, and all painted bright white. Water and open spaces balanced the setting, and areas were connected by beautiful walkways and boulevards.

Burnham believed that reformation of the landscape would complement the reform efforts needed in other areas of society. To bring beauty to the city could help improve the lives of the lower classes and help bring virtue and harmony to all classes. In effect, Burnham hoped to establish an urban utopia, an idea embraced by the great landscape architect Frederick Law Olmsted, and supported by the growing Progressive political movement in the United States.

The best modern example of Beaux-Arts in the United States is Washington, D.C., a plan that was developed in 1901 for the capitol’s centennial. In 1903, Cleveland, Ohio also set out to redefine its image, using granite, limestone, and marble to construct a new five-block city government center. In 1905, Burnham was asked to bring his skills to San Francisco.

Former mayor James D. Phelan led The Association for the Improvement and Adornment of San Francisco, formed in January 1905. The issues of schools, sanitation, and transportation so vehemently debated during Baldwin’s push to establish the Mission Park and Zoological Gardens at the Gum Tree Tract in 1897 and 1898 had finally been addressed and the City could now turn to beautification. Phelan’s goal was to beautify San Francisco much like the European cities of Paris, Vienna, and Berlin, an idea he had espoused in a published article in 1897. Local architect Willis Polk built a house for Burnham on Twin Peaks so that he could easily gain a bird’s-eye view of the entire City.

Daniel Burnham’s plan (1905) for transforming San Francisco into “City Beautiful” incorporated a grand boulevard circumnavigating the City, connected by diagonal roads throughout, with Neo-Classical and Renaissance Revival structures, and large areas of parks and greenery among the residential districts. Image from the David Rumsey Historical Map Collection. (Click image to enlarge)

Burnham published his plan in September 1905. He proposed that his expansive improvement plan be implemented in phases over half a century, based on the rate of community growth and available finances. He also cautioned that the City should not minimize its opportunity because,

“The city looks toward a sure future wherein it will possess in inhabitants and money many times what it has now. It follows that we must not found the scheme on what the city is, so much as on what it is to be … It should be designed not only for the present, but for all time to come.”

His plan would address what he called “the embarrassments” arising from the “… streets of San Francisco being laid out at right angles and with little regard for grades and other physical difficulties.” He felt this “embarrassment” could be overcome by establishing a “broad, dignified, and continuous driveway” that circumnavigated the City, to which all of the proposed diagonal streets within the City would lead, minimizing the congestion of City streets. His plan also included a proposal for a Civic Center as a grouping of public buildings, Mission Boulevard as an extension of El Camino Real, a plan for an underground subway, and the incorporation of extended parks and open space among residential neighborhoods.

Burnham seemed to take a liking to Glen Canyon and included Islais Creek in his plans as part of “Islais Creek Place” that would extend from the area of Visitacion Valley through Bernal Heights and Glen Park over to Golden Gate Park and Lake Merced:

Burnham’s proposal for three arteries through Glen Canyon (near the center of the image) in his City Beautiful plan (1905) would connect the Mission District with Golden Gate Park and Lake Merced. His proposal closely matched the plan proposed by Berkeley landscape architect George Hansen, commissioned by A.S. Baldwin of Baldwin & Howell for the Mission Park and Zoological Gardens eight years earlier (1897). Image from the David Rumsey Historical Map Collection. (Click image to enlarge)

“West of Mission Boulevard two other roads are shown. One passes through Glen Park, ascends Rock Cañon to join the Corbett Road, runs across the valley of the San Miguel to Laguna Honda and there joins Seventh avenue, which is widened as far as H street [Lincoln Way]. The other crosses Islais Creek. It is the extension of Ocean avenue, which runs through Merced Lake Valley to the Great Ocean Highway …

“… As indicated on the plan, Twin Peaks and the property lying around it, extending as far as the Lake Merced country, should be acquired by the city for park purposes … The park areas planned to include most of the highest points and those areas least adapted to building. The idea is to weave park and residence districts into interesting and economic relations; also to preserve from the encroachment of building the hill-bordered valley on the northwest and southeast running through the Rancho San Miguel land to Lake Merced, in order that the vista from the Peaks to the ocean may be unbroken. It is planned to preserve the beautiful cañon or glen to the south of Twin Peaks and also to maintain, as far as possible, the wooded background formed by the hills looking south from Golden Gate Park.”

Just over six months after Burnham’s report was published, San Francisco was devastated by the great earthquake and fire. Presumably, this would have provided Burnham and Phelan’s Association for the Improvement and Adornment of San Francisco with a blank slate to begin the City’s transformation. Instead, the pressure to rapidly rebuild San Francisco to restore her former greatness took precedence, and only some of Burnham’s concepts actually came to fruition.

Mayor Phelan’s published wish for a new and improved City of San Francisco in 1897 is timed with Baldwin’s move to establish Glen

Daniel Burnham included this image of Glen Canyon in his City Beautiful plan for San Francisco. The road visible on the center right may be Glen Avenue (the main dirt road in Glen Canyon today); the one viewable to the left of the image may be the Bosworth street entrance, most of which is now buried on rubble blasted during construction of O’Shaughnessy Boulevard in 1941. Structures are presumed to be buildings associated with the Mission Park and Zoo. From Burnham’s Report on a Plan for San Francisco. Available at Google Books. (Click image to enlarge)

Park Terrace as a new residence district the same year, one that would be incorporated with 145 acres of parkland. Van Trees’ Italian renaissance design for the proposed structure for the zoo is in alignment with the Neo-Classical and Renaissance Revival themes that were the foundation of City Beautiful look and feel. Landscape architect George Hansen, commissioned by Baldwin to design the layout of the park and zoo, intended to establish a pleasant boulevard – Glen Avenue – through Glen Canyon that would connect the Mission with Golden Gate Park. Eight years later, Daniel Burnham would re-introduce this exact route in his City Beautiful plan for San Francisco, without attribution to Hansen. The politics and social discontent surrounding living conditions in San Francisco – inadequate schools, transportation, and sanitation – were the same issues the proponents of both the City Beautiful movement in 1905 and the Mission Park and Zoological Gardens in 1897-1898 had hoped to overcome, by channeling morale and civic virtue through a planned beautification of a new residence district in San Francisco.

Given these facts, it would appear that Glen Park, under the leadership of A.S. Baldwin and Baldwin & Howell, was the birthplace of the City Beautiful movement in San Francisco, and preceded the movement by eight years. Baldwin, likely frustrated by the powers-at-be stalling his efforts to move forward with his complete plans before the turn of the century, is not listed as a board member in Phelan’s Association for the Improvement and Adornment of San Francisco in 1905. However, Baldwin would evolve his concept of establishing a subdivision adjacent to a park (such as the case with Glen Park Terrace and the Mission Zoo) into one that would make the subdivision itself a park, or “residence park.” Baldwin would be successful in doing so west of Twin Peaks, developing St. Francis Wood, Ingleside Terraces, Westwood Park, and Forest Hill, in addition to residence parks in San Mateo and Redwood City.

Baldwin’s aim was to “… perfect a home community second to none in the county …” And, in this, he succeeded. By Baldwin & Howell’s own admission in their company history, the company “pioneered residential growth in San Francisco.”

Given that the concept of residence parks and the roots of the City Beautiful movement in San Francisco originated in Glen Park, that the Mission Park and Zoo was as resounding a success as Woodward’s Gardens, and that Glen Canyon contains California State Historical Landmark No. 1002 (the first dynamite factory in the United States, personally licensed by Alfred Nobel), these facts alone should qualify Glen Park as a historic district.

* This also provides correction to the statement in Part I of these posts that the Gum Tree tract specifically referred to the eucalyptus stand in Glen Canyon.

View Glen Avenue Through Glen Canyon in a larger map

Sources

The San Francisco Call, various issues. Available at the California Digital Newspaper Collection.
The Oakland Tribune, various issues. Available at NewspaperArchve.com.
The San Francisco Examiner, various issues. Available at the San Francisco Public Library.
Anonymous. Baldwin & Howell Company History. In the Baldwin and Howell Records. San Francisco History Center, San Francisco Public Library. Finding guide available at Online Archive of California.
Anonymous. Crocker-Langley San Francisco Directory. H.S. Crocker Co.: San Francisco. 1897. Available at Archive.org.
Pollock, Christopher. Golden Gate Park. Available at Encyclopedia of San Francisco.
Anonymous. The City Beautiful Movement. In City Beautiful, The 1901 Plan for Washington, D.C. Available at the University of Virginia.
Klein R. An overview of the City Beautiful movement as reflected in Daniel Burnham’s vision. Available at Cleveland State University.
Burnham DH and Bennett EH. Report on a Plan for San Francisco. Published by the City of San Francisco: Sunset Press. 1905. Available at Google Books.
Anonymous. Urbane Beast or Urbane Beauty: Planning the City Beautiful. In Environmental Design Archives Exhibitions. Available at the College of Environmental Design, University of California, Berkeley.

2 Comments by Evelyn Rose, CTO (Chief Tramping Officer) / September 15, 2012 / Posted in: Recreation in San Francisco

The San Francisco Mission Zoo: Wilder Days in Glen Park (Part V)

Part V: Start a Zoo, Sell Home Lots: Good Idea?

The logo of real estate agents and auctioneers Baldwin & Howell. From the San Francisco Call, May 25, 1899. Courtesy of the California Digital Newspaper Collection. (click image to enlarge)

As we saw in Part IV, the Mission Park and Zoo of Glen Park was wildly successful. Thousands of people chose this destination as their Sunday excursion, venturing to what was known as the Outside Lands to witness spectacular and sensational performances (some of which defied safety and common sense) and to view the exhibits of wild animals distributed about the grounds. At an entry fee of 10 cents for every person over the age of five, by today’s monetary values park managers were making tens upon tens of thousands of dollars every week. The enterprise was so successful that no less than three railroad lines were needed to deposit visitors at Glen Park, then later return them home.

Yet, the whole motive of the zoo venture was to convince the masses to stay, buy lots, and move their homes to the lands soon to become known as Glen Park Terrace. Which begs the question: did A.S. Baldwin’s idea of starting a zoo to promote the sale of home lots work?

Selling property in the Outside Lands of San Francisco in the late 1800s may have been more challenging than selling underwater lots in Yerba Buena Cove 50 years earlier. While the danger of roaming grizzly bears had long been eradicated, the remoteness of the Outside Lands was not at all enticing to the hustling, bustling populace who jingled gold and silver coins in their pockets. Why be a pioneer (again) and settle in the Outside Lands when all the comforts of home could be found only a short distance from their place of employment in the center of their financial and civic universe?

This ad for the Castro street west addition, soon to become known as the new Glen Park Terrace, was lost in a sea of classified ads. A novel promotional campaign was needed to bring the property to the forefront. From the San Francisco Chronicle, April 18, 1897. Image courtesy of the San Francisco Historic Photograph Library, San Francisco Public Library. (click image to enlarge)

As noted in Part I, the firm of Baldwin & Howell had been selected by the Crocker Estate Company to manage, promote, and sell the lands known as the “Castro Street Addtion” formerly owned by Adoph Sutro. The earlier advertisements for the sale of these lots in April of 1897 were barely noticeable in the maze of finely printed classified ads for property throughout the City. Realtor A.S. Baldwin recognized there would be a need for a clever promotional campaign.

Only three months later, plans for the proposed Mission Park and Zoological Gardens, its estimated costs, and the price to the City for the purchase of the land first appeared in local newspapers. In addition to his other real estate activities in San Francisco and San Mateo counties, Baldwin would remain at the forefront of the debate. When the Board of Supervisors finally rejected the purchase of the Gum Tree Tract in September 1898, Baldwin forged ahead to establish the pleasuring park, for he still had lots to sell.

With “fine sunny exposure” and commanding “a good view” of the “new and popular resort, Glen Park,” the new Glen Park Terrace was presented as an opportunity not to be missed. From the San Francisco Call, May 20, 1899. Available at the California Digital Newspaper Collection. (click image to enlarge)

Once the Mission Park and Zoo had become a huge success, at a time when the number and valuation of real estate sales were on an upswing following a sluggish year, Baldwin went for gold. The first auction for “75 Superb Business and Residence lots in Glen Park Terrace … the gem subdivision of the Mission,” was held on May 25, 1899 at Baldwin & Howell’s offices at 10 Montgomery Street:

“Have you seen them? If not, it will certainly pay you to do so at once. We have done our part and Glen Park Terrace is ready for the builder. Streets and lots all in shape. Everything done but to fix the prices. You are to do that. The terms are only 1/4 cash. Take the San Mateo electric cars (Mission and Valencia transfer at Fourteenth) and ride to the park entrance – there’s where the lots are situated – and they are beauties. Remember, you must see the property and be at 10 Montgomery street at 12 o’clock to-day.”

Whether the auction was a success was never reported in newspapers, nor could reports of individual sales be located in newspapers immediately after the auction. This leads us to believe that, perhaps, it was not an overwhelming success, though it is possible that a smattering of the 75 lots may have exchanged hands. The promotion of the attendance of 42,000 people on Dewey Day (honoring Admiral George Dewey on the one-year anniversary of the defeat of the Spanish Fleet in the Philippines) could not have been an attractive selling point. While it would be pleasant to live in the country atmosphere of Glen Park Terrace, having tens of thousands of people marching and meandering across your property one day a week to get to and from the resort could get rather annoying.

The presumed failure of the auction does not imply that the area was barren of property owners. One hundred thirty-five home lots had been purchased between December 1895 and July 1897 in Subdivision 1 of the Castro Street Addition, an area approximately bounded by lots on the north side of Sussex Street, extending eastward to Castro Street, then following a line northwesterly from Castro and Chenery Streets to the intersection of Surrey and Douglass Streets (the latter today’s Van Buren Street – see Google Map below). It was the area closest to the Mission Park and Zoo – west of both Van Buren Street and the intersection of Brompton Avenue and Chenery Street – that still remained largely uninhabited in 1899.

And it would remain so for another seven years. The heyday of the Glen Park resort seemed to pass after the season of 1900. While the entertainment continued to be advertised and visitors continued to congregate on the pleasuring grounds, the “mammoth” and sensational nature of the shows seemed to fade. On July 24, 1900, Baldwin & Howell sold lots 4 to 49 of the Glen Park Tract (the approximate area of the north side of Chenery Street, between Lippard Avenue west to the intersection of Surrey Street and Chenery, and the south side of Surrey Street between Chenery and Lippard – see Google Map below) to J.H. Lyons of the Bank of California for $8500 (average of $190 per lot). Baldwin & Howell later advertised home lots in Glen Park Terrace on November 25, 1900, for $250, $25 down:

“… a splendid opportunity to commence and secure a future home. GLEN PARK TERRACE. One-half block from electric cars; only 25 minutes from City Hall …”

Then, on August 3, 1901, the following transaction was reported in the San Francisco Call:

“Glen Park, the Mission breathing ground, has passed into the hands of the Crocker Estate Company. The park has been leased for five years and will be kept open as a place of amusement. Deeds were passed yesterday from the California Title Insurance and Trust Company, A.S. Baldwin and the Glen Park Company to the Crocker Estate Company, transferring the property comprised in Glen Park, about 100 acres. The deed from the California Title Insurance and Trust Company showed a consideration of $150,000, as indicated by the revenue stamps, and the consideration in the deed from the Glen Park Company to Baldwin and from him to the Crocker Estate Company was $125,000.

“The transfers, according to Baldwin & Howell, agents in the transaction, represent in a settlement on the part of the Castro-street Land Company, the Glen Park Company and the Crocker Estate Company. The transfers also close out the interests of the Glen Park and Castro-street companies, whose holdings, after the payment of the indebtedness to the Crocker Estate Company, were purchased by A.S. Baldwin for about $75,000. The deeds filed yesterday, which include a large amount of land adjacent to the park, include conveyances to Baldwin of the holdings of the two companies mentioned.”

Next, on March 27, 1903 A.S. and Emma Baldwin were reported to have quietly transferred to Baldwin & Howell,

“… lots 4 to 49, block A, Glen Park Terrace; also lots 1, 4, 7 to 17, block 1, subdivision 1, Castro-street Addition; also lots 1, 2, 6, 10 and 11, block 2, same; also lots 3, 4, 5, 7, 9 to 11, 13, 14, 16 to 21, 24, 25, 27, 33, 34 to 39, 42 to 49, 52 to 59. block 3, same; also lots 5, 6, 9, 20, 21, 23, 25 to 35, block 4, same: also lots 2, 5, 7, 9 and 10, block 5, same; also lots 3, 5 to 12, 15 and 16, block 6, same; also lots 4, 6 to 14, block 7, same; lots 1, 3, 6, 8, 11 and 12, block 8, same; also lots 1, 2, 3, 7 to 13, block 9, same; …”

Price of the sale? $10.00. It is interesting to note that lots 4 to 49 previously transferred to J.H. Lyons of the Bank of California appear once again in this transaction two years later.

The front page of a brochure advertising the sale of lots in Glen Park Terrace by the Rivers Brothers Agency (no date, but likely after the Rivers Brothers acquired lots on the property in 1904). California General Subject Collection, courtesy of the Alice Phelan Sullivan Library, Society of California Pioneers.. (Click image to enlarge)

Finally, on August 28, 1904,

“Baldwin & Howell report the purchase of 125 lots by Rivers Bros. in the Castro-street Addition and Glen Park terrace on private terms. The purchase disposes of all the remaining lots owned by Baldwin & Howell in the two additions. Rivers Bros. will construct cottages and sell them on installments.”

Except for the sale of two lots (42 and 43 – again) for $1000 reported January 21, 1906, Baldwin & Howell would no longer have any association with Glen Park Terrace. By 1905, with the five-year lease issued by the Crocker Estate Company for the continued operation of the Glen Park resort nearing its end, there was talk of moving the remnants of the zoo to a new Mission Park on the property of the Old Jewish Cemetery, today’s Dolores Park.

Yet, perhaps Baldwin let the lands go too soon, for after the Great Earthquake and

G. H. Umbsen & Co., sale of lots in Glen Park Terrace. From the San Francisco Call, April 9, 1907. Available at the California Digital Newspaper Collection. (click image to enlarge)

Conflagration of 1906, sales of Glen Park Terrace would take off. The first auction of home lots in San Francisco after the earthquake was by G.H. Umbsen & Co., who announced on September 23, 1906 that, ”… the day of the shack is doomed and that henceforth San Francisco is to witness the erection of permanent buildings.” Sixty-three lots “near Glen Park” were sold the previous week “in an incredibly short space of time” for prices ranging from $250 to $1050 per lot. On November 10 of that year, the Call reported, “There has been no cessation in the demand for small residence property and considerable realty has changed hands in the Glen Park Terrace district, Richmond and east of the park [Golden Gate].”

Because the “new” Mission Park at Church and 18th Streets had become Camp 29 for

Camp 29 earthquake refugee camp located at the “new” Mission Zoo in today’s Dolores Park in 1906. Housing refugees here rather than the “old” Mission Zoo in Glen Park would help fuel a rush of home sales in Glen Park Terrace. California General Subject Collection. Courtesy of the Alice Phelan Sullivan Library, Society of California Pioneers.(Click image to enlarge)

earthquake refugees, with hundreds of earthquake shacks erected on the grounds, its official opening would be delayed until 1910. There has been confusion over the years as to whether a refugee camp ever existed in Glen Park. It seems probable that with refugees encamped at the “new” Mission Park (Dolores Park), Glen Park Terrace was left wide open for purchase of home lots and the construction of new housing.

Over the next four to five years, G.H. Umbsen would hold several auctions for lots at Glen Park Terrace until 1910. It appears it may have been Umbsen who gave Glen Park the designation of “the Switzerland of San Francisco,” as seen in the ads shown here. As an aside, Umbsen was indicted in 1907 for bribing members of the Board of Supervisors during the graft scandal that also involved Mayor Eugene Schmitz and his “boss,” Abe Ruef.

G. H. Umbsen & Co., sale of lots in Glen Park Terrace. From the San Francisco Call, February 10, 1907. Available at the California Digital Newspaper Collection. (click image to enlarge)

And that is how the Glen Park we know today came to be. We can thank A.S. Baldwin for his foresight and determination in following through with his plans to establish a park and zoo in the Outside Lands of the Gum Tree Tract, the same land the City of San Francisco would eventually purchase and, that still today, remains the City’s largest area of wild and open space outside of the Presidio.

In the next post, we will attempt to place the actions of A.S. Baldwin in context, and review why the village of Glen Park and Glen Canyon may qualify as historically significant areas.

G. H. Umbsen & Co., sale of lots in Glen Park Terrace. From the San Francisco Call, March 6, 1910. Available at the California Digital Newspaper Collection. (click image to enlarge)

G. H. Umbsen & Co., sale of lots in Glen Park Terrace. From the San Francisco Call, October 20, 1907. Available at the California Digital Newspaper Collection. (click image to enlarge)

View Glen Park Terrace and the Castro Street Addition-Subdivision 1 in a larger map

Sources

San Francisco Chronicle, various issues, available at San Francisco Public Library Articles and Databases.
San Francisco Call, various issues, available at California Digital Newspaper Collection.
Baldwin & Howell, Series I, Office Files, Box 1/7, File 4 (History), and Record of Sales. San Francisco History Center, 6th Floor. San Francisco Public Library.

2 Comments by Evelyn Rose, CTO (Chief Tramping Officer) / September 14, 2012 / Posted in: Recreation in San Francisco

The San Francisco Mission Zoo: Wilder Days in Glen Park (Part IV)

Part IV: Dashing! Daring! Death-Defying! Relaxing at the Mission Zoo

The brightness of its attractions is what has caused Glen Park to become such a popular resort. There is always something startling and novel to be seen there and the sunshine that floods the park adds to the pleasure.

The anniversary of the admission of the State of California to the Union was a celebrated event a century ago. This image is from a free picnic at the proposed Mission Park and Zoo on September 9, 1898, the same day Morro Castle (see upper left) officially opened. The official zoo opening would not occur until five weeks later. Image courtesy of the San Francisco Historical Photograph Collection, San Francisco Public Library. (Click image to enlarge)

We are sometimes reminded that the passage of time can erase various chapters of our history. For example, the history of Woodward’s Gardens, the premier amusement venue in San Francisco from 1866-1891, is well preserved in both word and image. However, in the case of the Mission Zoo and Park at the Gum Tree Tract in Glen Park, this did not appear to be the case … at least on the surface. While it was a “mammoth” event that would not have its heyday until near the turn of the 20th century, several years after Woodward’s closed, the complete history of the Mission Zoo and its intended purpose of selling home lots in Glen Park Terrace had been forgotten. It’s legacy was a victim of the passing of a century, the gradual loss of living memories, and the tucking away of rare historic facts and records, some of which were forever lost in the great earthquake and conflagration.

The only general awareness of the Mission Zoo before the publication of this series of posts at Tramps of San Francisco was: a) a zoo had existed at some point in Glen Canyon, and b) it included a high-wire act and a castle. These minimal facts were supported by two readily accessible photographs at the San Francisco Public Library. This research has now shown that both images were taken before the zoo officially opened.

Now with the availability of digitized information on the Internet, obscure resources and facts have become more accessible. Bundle that with a few hobnailed tramps to our local historic libraries, and the history of the Mission Zoo and Park can be brought to light and pieced together so that it can once again be known and appreciated.

Rediscovering the breadth of events that occurred at the Mission Zoo and Park has been a remarkable journey. So, sit back, pour yourself another beverage, and get ready for a wild ride, for Glen Park a century ago was wilder than our wildest imagination.

As the San Francisco Board of Supervisors fought over the proposed purchase of the Gum Tree Tract, the promoters of the Mission Park and Zoological Gardens worked to keep the proposed zoo in the forefront of the public’s attention. Approximately one week before the Board was to make their final decision (see Part I), the management put on a large picnic in Glen Park to celebrate Admission Day (the anniversary of the admission of California as the thirty-first state) on September 9, 1898. From reports, the picnic was attended by a “… large crowd of visitors, all of whom spent the day most pleasantly.”

The official opening of the zoo would not occur for another five weeks, but Admission Day served as the official Opening Day for Morro Castle (see Part III). Noted in the press as one of the great events of the day, children thronged the playgrounds and marched up to the castle in honor of the recent victory in Cuba, led by a,

“… grand marshal, conspicuous for his small size. He proudly wore an immense star as his emblem of authority, and was mounted on a Shetland pony. The procession consisted of a band and a long line of wagons, gayly decorated and filled with happy children, waving flags and cheering. Upon reaching the Morro Castle they enthusiastically saluted the Stars and Stripes which floated over the historic structure in place of the colors of Spain. The demonstration was certainly an evidence of genuine patriotism.

“The children, as well as the older people, were very much interested in the elk, the seal, the cranes, the ducks and the birds that are kept in the park. The swings, the see-saws, spring-boards, flying Dutchman and other amusements kept the children in continual enjoyment. They had their lunch in an attractive pavilion, which had been arranged for them by the Mission Park and Zoo people.”

The Wild Menagerie

Zoo management began populating the zoo with wild and exotic animals before the official Opening Day, likely with the assistance of Anson C. Robison, the commercial dealer who had earlier itemized the proposed cost of the animals (see Part II). A bear pit was noted to exist at the zoo, but how many bear and whether they were black bear, grizzly bear, or both is not known. As noted above, elk, deer, a seal (this lone sea mammal was presumably sequestered in land-locked, man-made Seal Lake), cranes, and ducks were exhibited. While other animals were distributed elsewhere in the park, some appear to have been housed at Morro Castle, “… with its wild animals, the donkeys, Punch and Judy show, swings, etc, …” Another report in the San Francisco Call noted Morro Castle would be “… devoted entirely to a various assortment of the feathery tribe, include a loft for homing pigeons.”

The full list of animals actually acquired for the Mission Zoo has not yet been found, but newspaper reports in 1898 and 1899 hint to the extent of the menagerie:

Two emus, arriving on the Moana from Queensland, Australia, were added to the animal “collection” in May 1899
A peacock was allowed to wander about the zoo. When it flew the coop one day, he wandered down Glen Avenue and was captured by a young man, who took him to the grocery where he worked on Precita Avenue. He was eventually arrested for theft, and both he and the peacock ended up at the Mission Jail
A big baboon, reported to be “the largest in the United States,” and a two-headed calf were both added in August 1899

The Attractions

Death-defying acts were the norm at Glen Park and helped draw thousands of people to the park. Sadly, death would prevail at least twice, forcing visitors to witness horrendous outcomes.

Balloon Ascensions and Parachuting

While the first heavier than air, power-controlled flight would not be achieved until 1903, aeronautics was nothing new in 1898. The first hot air balloon had ascended in France in 1783, and it became an important mode of reconnaissance for both the Union and Confederate Armies during the Civil War. What was relatively new, however, was parachuting. In fact, the first recorded parachute jump was accomplished by T.S. Baldwin (no known relation to A.S. Baldwin, promoter of the Mission Zoo) in San Francisco in 1887. Balloon ascensions had become a popular attraction after the Civil War but were “losing their novelty.” So, Baldwin, a balloonist who first learned the craft as a young boy, performed as an acrobat with the circus, flew a balloon for Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Show, and successfully walked a tightrope from the Cliff House to Seal Rocks, decided to add a little excitement to the act by introducing a sudden descent by parachute.

Piecing together tidbits of various newspaper reports help us understand the procedure. Sand bags suspended by cords held the balloon in place until it was time for lift-off. The balloons were inflated with gas (usually helium) before the cords were released and the ascension began. Ascensionists needed to ensure that the balloon was inflated with enough gas to reach an altitude of 300 feet before they lifted off. After leaving the ground and “… when at sufficient height a signal from below [was] given the aeronauts to cut loose and descend to earth by means of their parachutes.” Balloon ascensions could reportedly go as high as 5000 feet, at which point they either descended in the balloon, or they parachuted down.

Beneath the balloon was a trapeze bar that was attached to a parachute made of canvas. As the parachutist jumped from the basket, the force of the exiting body weight detached the parachute from the balloon. Often, the aeronauts would perform a trapeze act or other acrobatics before parachuting from the balloon and floating back to solid ground. If they were flying solo, it is not yet clear how the balloon returned to Earth and was retrieved without a pilot. (Get a Bird’s-eye view of San Francisco, Cal. in 1902 during an ascension by T.S. Baldwin from today’s South Van Ness Avenue near Market Street, filmed by the Thomas A. Edison Co, 1902, presented by the Library of Congress.)

Professor Charles Conlan, “the daring young aeronaut,” was the first to ascend from Glen Park on Opening Day, though it apparently was a rather bumpy ride. His first balloon ascent was reported to be,

“… a dismal failure – the balloon failing to clear him from the ground and collapsing ignominiously on an adjoining hillside. A second attempt was even more disastrous, the balloon catching fire and being totally destroyed.”

Soon, Conlon would become the reigning Pacific Coast champion by racing at Glen Park against Mademoiselle (Mlle.) Anita of London, a self-proclaimed “sky-climber with no equals.” In what was billed as “a novel affair,” the race occurred on a cold day in December a week before Christmas. In a scene reminiscent of Dorothy and Toto ascending by balloon from the Emerald City of Oz to return to Kansas,

“… as the big swaying air ships left the ground together they were greeted with cheers and good-byes commingled. They cut loose from their balloons and dropped back to earth almost at the same time – Conlon, however, went higher than his fair competitor.”

The decision for Pacific Coast Champion was by popular ballot, each park visitor being allowed one vote. Conlon received 1050 votes versus Mlle. Anita’s 659. It was reported that Conlon won the contest by performing “in midair the difficult and hazardous tricks” on the trapeze. In another ascension, Conlon “… disappeared in the clouds shortly after he left the earth, and it was many minutes before he reappeared coming through the fog in his parachute. He landed not far from where he went up.” In another attempt, Conlan landed in the cold waters of Islais Creek.

An image of a possibly staged event for the “proposed” Mission Zoo, perhaps to promote how successful the zoo could be. The hill appears to be Martha Hill. The dirt road is likely today’s Bosworth Street entrance into Glen Canyon. The round structure in the center is a helium balloon, with the letters “GL” (Glen Park). Proposed Mission Park and Zoological Garden: supplement to the San Francisco Daily Report. Scenes in Glen Park – the Proposed Mission Zoo (no date). Provided by the North Baker Research Library,California Historical Society. (Click image to enlarge)

The aeronaut Professor F. P. Hagel was another frequent flyer at Glen Park with a balloon he named Glen Park. Reported to be a more skilled parachutist, Professor Hagel once returned within 200 feet of his point of ascension. Another time at Glen Park, he landed on a rock and broke his arm.

Look closely at the image to the left. The globular object near the center of the picture is a partially inflated balloon. The letters “GL” can be seen on the side. While the image is from 1897 during an earlier promotion for Glen Park Terrace, this may be Professor Hagel’s balloon.

Aspiring aeronauts would sometimes receive training in front of the crowds at Glen Park. On New Year’s Day, 1899, Professor Conlan instructed an unnamed young man, already a trapeze performer, in balloon ascension. They lifted off side by side, with Conlan remaining within speaking distance so he could continue to instruct the novice how to manage his balloon and when to cut loose to parachute back to earth.

Another young man was reported to have “showed his sense” when he came to the conclusion that “discretion was the better part of valor” and decided not to participate at the last minute. According to news reports, he “… was seen climbing the hills in a hurried escape.” But, experienced aeronaut Ed Larsen stepped in, and he and Conlan “went soaring to the clouds, and both safely descended into the deer park at the Mission Zoo.”

Robert Earlston, a young aeronaut who was already lame from a previous fall from a balloon, had another close call at Glen Park:

Young Robert Earlston was lucky to survive a fall of 30 feet, after “falling like a rocket” at Glen Park. He was taken to San Francisco City and County Hospital, and was able to walk home later that day. From the San Francisco Call, September 18, 1899. Available at the California Digital Newspaper Collection. (click image to enlarge)

“… he had cut loose from a balloon at Glen Park, and went down like a rocket, a distance of thirty feet, striking upon his head on a pile of loose dirt and rocks. A thousand spectators witnessed the thrilling sight.

“Earlston went up a distance of 1000 feet with the balloon. When he left the ground he had hold with his teeth of a rope attached to the bar of the parachute. He at once set to work to give an exhibition of his skill and performed a number of tricks in midair. At the height of about 1000 feet he cut loose. The parachute opened promptly and he began to journey downward, holding on to the parachute bar. As he came down, not any faster than usual, the bar of the parachute struck against one of the new Mission street road’s trolley wires. That threw the aeronaut.”

Fortunately for Earlston, he was able to walk home from the City and County Hospital later that day with only a mild concussion.

At least two aeronauts died after losing control during their descent by parachute at Glen Park. Albert McPherson’s parachute became caught in overhanging wires on the trolley line and he slammed into the trestle bridge. Novice Daniel Maloney, 21 years old and a groundskeeper for the zoo and park, met a similar fate in only his fourth flight in front of 4000 people at Glen Park. “When forty feet in the air the young aeronaut lost his grip on the parachute bar and to the horror of the crowd, punctured by the shrieks of women, fell to the ground within a few feet of the point of departure.” He was taken to St. Luke’s Hospital for care. The previous week, his life had been spared when his balloon had caught fire in midair and, when he cut loose, the parachute had still been able to open despite not having reached an adequate altitude.

High-wire and other Elevated Acts

Wallenda-like performances were another big attraction at the Mission Park and Zoo, advertised as “… hair-raising blood-stirring events.”

On Opening Day in October 1898, it was reported that high-wire athlete Professor J. Williams, known by many as John Williams, the “Intrepid Cliff House Bird Man,” would attempt a “dangerous undertaking” and “cross over the canyon 1000 feet in width on a tight wire 300 feet above the ground. The performance, if successful, will probably eclipse anything of a like character ever before attempted.” This was an act of true daring for a man who was a mainstay at the Cliff House and Ocean Beach with his trained canaries, parakeets, and love birds, having apparently been challenged to make the crossing for a wager of $500. ”Several thousand people” were in attendance to witness his “perilous walk.” Beginning at 2 p.m., it took him 20 minutes to make the crossing.

The so-called Bird Man of Ocean Beach and Cliff House fame (which would imply Professor Williams and not Willis) decided to experience the thrill of flying like a bird at the Mission Zoo in Glen Park. From the San Francisco Call, December 9, 1898. Available at the California Digital Newspaper Collection. (click image to enlarge)

A Professor Willis (though the media reported that some recognized him as the “canary bird man of the ocean beach,” so this was likely John Williams) performed a “dashing, daring and thrilling feat” in his attempt to dive 300 feet into a net. The act was described as “a human bomb from a clear sky, personified by the world’s greatest atmospheric performer.” Some doubters measured the wire’s height at just under 84 feet, not including the net stretched out 12 feet above the ground on a frame of stilts.

He preceded his dive in late December 1898 with a walk along the tightrope stretched across what he called the “Rockydike Gulch.” Then,

” … a blast of trumpets tore holes in the air of the glen and an impresario told the people that the great show was to begin. By a rope running through a pulley fastened to the wire above, “Canary Birds” was hoisted skyward. Sitting on the trapeze he slowly reached his altitudinal limit, the small boys below yelling all the time about frigid nether extremities. The great dropper was pretty high up and there was only one way to come down, so he hung from the trapeze and dropped. With bated breath and stiffened hair the crowd watched his mighty and successful fall, and then a cheer went up which shook the sky a few feet above the wire and the crowd dispersed.”

In a separate feat, Professor Ramous, “champion high diver of the world,” also known as the “Hawaiian human flying fish,” would, “… attempt to dive into a stream in Glen Park from a pedestal 100 feet in height.” Historically, Islais Creek was the largest body of water in San Francisco and was much wider and deeper before being channeled into a culvert near today’s Glen Canyon Recreation Center. No reports were found as to the outcome of the Professor’s attempt, or if he attempted the plunge at all.

Another act performed by H.C. Romaine was advertised as, “A daring cyclist who rides his wheel down a ladder 160 feet long from an elevation of 100 feet …” as a feature of one week’s “open-air entertainment.” His attempt was reported to be successful.

Entertainers and Vaudeville Performers

A large number of performers, many of them nationally and internationally famous, performed before the crowds at the Mission Park and Zoo. What follows is a short list of advertised shows.

The Australian born riders, George (1890-1955) and Elsie St Leon (1884-1976) with their horses, New York ca. 1915 (ringmistress and clown are unidentified). The act, called Bostock’s Riding School, was presented at fairs and in vaudeville programs throughout the United States into the 1920s. Image courtesy of Dr Mark St Leon, Sydney, Australia. (click image to enlarge)

Studio portrait of Elsie St Leon, Australian-born equestrienne and third generation of the Australia’s St Leon circus family, New York, ca. 1908. Elsie was acknowledged as one of America’s finest equestriennes, the only woman capable of turning an “‘unattended’ somersault on the back of a moving horse.” Image courtesy of Dr Mark St Leon, Sydney, Australia. (click image to enlarge)

Elsie St Leon (1884-1976): A third-generation member of Australia’s most prominent circus family, The St Leon’s, Elsie’s training as an acrobat, equestrian, and all-around circus performer began early. She made her first public appearance in a novelty juggling act at the age of 7. By 1896, Elsie, her siblings, and parents had made their way to North America, often performing as The Five St Leons.

Elsie was only 15 years old when her performance at the Mission Zoo was described as an act of “Clever Horsemanship … performing amazing equestrian tricks.” She apparently had previously experienced equine control issues when it was reported in the Call that her, “… equestrian fetes … will be more wonderful than any of her previous performances. She now has her pony ‘Swipes’ perfectly under control and the tricks she is performing on him daily are phenomenal.” She also sometimes performed on the trapeze. On June 11, 1899, she received top billing at Glen Park as “The Celebrated Bareback Circus Rider in New and Daring Equestrian Feats.” Her performances of bareback riding and hurdle-jumping were apparently well received, so much so that she returned again and again to the Mission Zoo in 1899. The Five St Leons also gave an acrobatic performance at least once at Glen Park. (Read more about the St Leons at pennygaff.com.au)

“Madame Schell in a cage with two lions.” Circa 1910. Image courtesy of the Elizabeth West Postcard Collection, 1887-1955, Harvard University. (click image to enlarge)

Madame Schell and Her Trained Lions: According to advertisements, “Famous lion tamer Madame Schell, one of the successful lion tamers of modern times and the daring of this little woman and the performance of her three ferocious lions excels anything of a like character ever before exhibited in public.” Unlike Elsie St Leon, Madame Schell was not a frequent performer at Glen Park.

Lillian Smith, the “California huntress” of the Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Show and archrival of Annie Oakley (ca. 1888). Image courtesy of the Buffalo Bill Historical Center, Cody, Wyoming. (Click image to enlarge)

Lillian Smith, “The champion rifle-shot of the world”: Lillian Smith was born in 1871 in Coleville, California. She first performed her marksmanship in San Francisco at the age of 10, and by the time she was 15 she was traveling with Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Show performing as the “champion California huntress.” Lillian and Annie Oakley detested each other, causing Oakley to leave Buffalo Bill’s show after performances in London in 1887.

Other entertainers at the Mission Zoo included, but certainly are not limited to:

Dubell – “celebrated aerialist”

The Troy Trio – “world famous fire kings, direct from New York”

Idaline – “the famous Parisian dancer in her initial bow to American audiences, considered to be the ‘terpsichorean premier’”

Lajess – “double contortion performance”

Edward Olcott – “clown contortionist”

Little Rosie Bennet – “the child wonder”

Kecko - “the gymnastic ape”

Waldo and Elliott- “on the double trapeze”

Al Hazard – “the celebrated ventriloquist”

M. Fletcher and Daughter Edith – “the comedians”

Arnaldo– “feats of hand balancing”

Japanese Wire Walking was one of the many feats performed by the Oura’a Royal Japanese Troupe of Gymnasts at Glen Park. From the San Francisco Call, April 29, 1900. Available at the California Digital Newspaper Collection. (click image to enlarge)

The Sawyer Sisters – song and dance artists

Morris Brothers – “feats of strength”

Oura’s Royal Japanese Troupe of Gymnasts- “Japanese wire walking” and other acrobatics

The Schaidelles – “stilt tumbling”

Barney Reynolds – comedy

Baby Troy – female impersonations

Other advertised acts by performers who remained anonymous included a: balancing ladder act, a performance by “educated cockatoos,” bareback trick riding, dramatic reading, black-faced comedy, mind reading, triple horizontal bar work, acrobatic tumbling, and “other feats of merit.”

Musical Performances

The Fourth Cavalry Band – The U.S. Army transferred the headquarters of the Fourth Cavalry and its band from Fort Walla Walla, Washington to the Presidio in June 1898. At the time, they were only one of four remaining regiments in the U.S. Army who still performed as a mounted band. The Call reported that,

“With the exception of the cornets, all the brass instruments of the bandsmen

The Fourth Cavalry Band, one of only four remaining mounted bands in the U.S. Army in 1898, had just transferred their headquarters to the Presidio in San Francisco and quickly became popular among the Glen Park pleasure-seekers. From the San Francisco Call, June 1898. Available at the California Digital Newspaper Collection. (click image to enlarge)

encircle the shoulders, enabling them to hold them steadily and firmly when walking, trotting, or even galloping. Even the horses were noted to enjoy the music and seemed to march in step.” Led by a Colonel Morris, the Fourth Cavalry Band would perform several times in Glen Park, including on Opening Day in 1898.

The Tivoli Theatre Orchestra was also noted to have “rendered some choice musical selections.” Other concerts by the Glen Park Band and the Warren Lombardero Mandolin and Guitar Orchestra also regularly performed.

Events

A Flag Day parade, and foot races for boys and girls were part of the festivities of May Day, 1900. From the San Francisco Call, May 2, 1900. Available at the California Digital Newspaper Collection. (click image to enlarge)

Some weeks at the Mission Zoo, it was the pleasure-seekers themselves who put on the show. As announced one week in the Call,

“The games are to be one of the most interesting features of the afternoon. There are all kinds of races, and races scheduled for all kinds of people. Age or weight will be no bar, nor will sex or social condition. There will be races for girls and for boys; for young women and young men; for married women and married men; for fat women and fat men. Then there will be three-legged races, egg races and bicycle races. There will be an amateur race for the Labor day medal, a cross-country bicycle race for the Glen Park cup, a fine hose coupling contest by members of the Fire Department, a tug-of-war between members of the different unions and a cakewalk.”

Cake-walking, the big fad of the late 1890s, was originally developed by enslaved African Americans in the South to mock the stiff, waltzing dance of their white owners. White Americans eventually developed black-faced minstrel shows to mock this African American dance, not realizing the joke was actually on them. Dances were judged and the winners often received a piece of cake. Cakewalking is considered to be the root of American jazz music (Learn more about cake-walking).

The German-American League held a celebration in Glen Park in 1903, one of many local clubs to rent the grounds of the Gum Tree Tract for picnics and parties. Bowling was a popular game, as was dancing under the stars. It is not clear what activity is being performed on the left side of this image. From the San Francisco Call, October 5, 1903. Available at the California Digital Newspaper Collection. (click image to enlarge)

Bowling: Often, private clubs would schedule picnics in Glen Park. The German-American League had one such picnic and included bowling as part of festivities that continued well into the night:

“The whole German colony of the city, with their lunch baskets and their flaxen haired children, flocked out to the warm little glade in the Mission hills before the sun was four hours old, and there on the sun-browned hills and in the shaded glens reveled to their hearts’ content until the moon shone over Twin Peaks.”

Homing pigeon races: Homing pigeons were often released from Glen Park to make their way back to home base in East Oakland. From the number of articles in the news media around the turn of the 20th century, homing pigeon races up and down the Pacific Coast were a big event. Birds were rated for distance and time, and champion birds could cover almost 900 yards per minute and fly nearly 400 miles without stopping.

While most racing homing pigeons were identified by a series of letter and numbers, one bird seemed to fly above the rest. Skyrocket, shown here, could cover 400 miles in a little over 13 hours. It is not known if Skyrocket ever raced at Glen Park. From the San Francisco Call, May 25, 1899. Available at the California Digital Newspaper Collection. (click image to enlarge)

Boxing: In June of 1899, a “scientific sparring exhibition” was scheduled between Tom Sharkey, a self-proclaimed “Champion of the World” and Spider Kelly, a former sailor. The match was to be refereed by Joe Kennedy. It was noted that the fight would occur during the daytime so that “variascope” pictures could be taken, and was staged to help promote and attract big professional fights to Glen Park in the future. As reported in the Call,

“… several thousand people swarmed out over the hills to the scene of the promised exhibition. Many of them had never had the honor of gazing at the muscular form of the pugilistic wonder and they were determined not to overlook the present opportunity. The exodus from the city commenced about noon and for the next four hours the electric cars on the San Mateo line were taxed to their utmost capacity. Passengers clung to the sides and rear and even clambered upon the roofs of the cars, and when driven from the latter hung by their hands to the sign that ran along its edge. Others clung to the window frames and to one another until there was nothing left to cling to. Occasionally a passenger lost his grip and went rolling and tumbling along the road, but, although several of the victims received severe shakings up, they invariably refused to give up the trip and retire for repairs …

The big event at Glen Park in the summer of 1899 was the mismatched bout between professional pugilist Tom Sharkey and ex-sailor Spider Kelly. The event was actually a promotion to attract future professional fights to Glen Park, so there was no real victor in this bout. From the San Francisco Call, June 19, 1899. Available at the California Digital Newspaper Collection. (click image to enlarge)

“Sharkey looked big enough to swallow his shadowy opponent, but Kelly ducked and sidestepped in the most approved fashion and the blows aimed at his head usually went wide. ‘Dewey’s Destroyer,’ as Sharkey has rechristened his good right arm, was not brought into action to any great extent, and to that fact the Spider probably owes possession of an undamaged anatomy. The sailor was as live as a cricket, however, and although Kelly was suffering from a severe case of indisposition the exhibition was eminently satisfactory and met with the unqualified approval of the audience.”

Wrestling: Crowds also made their way to Glen Park to view Hali Adali, better known as “The Terrible Turk” or “The Sultan’s Lion,” wrestle J. J. Cameron, “a Bonny Scot.” The more hulking Adali was expected to win the contest within a matter of minutes, but,

Hali Adali and J.J. Cameron in a wrestling bout at Glen Park, May 1900. When Adali grabbed the Scot’s so-called “kilts,” Cameron “hooted” so loud that Adali released his grip. From the San Francisco Call, May 7, 1900. Available at the California Digital Newspaper Collection. (click image to enlarge)

“The Scotchman wriggled and twisted, dodged and sweated to such good purpose that the Turk was unable to throw him. Whereat the populace was glad and cheered loudly. The ‘Terrible Turk’ put forth his best efforts, but Cameron’s accent was too much for him. When Hali Adali secured his famous ‘jail’ hold the braw Scotchman ejaculated, ‘Dinna ye ken, mon, ye canna doon me,’ and when the Turk caught hold of the Caledonian’s kilts he howled ‘Hoot mon!’ so lustily that the ‘lion’ released his grip.”

Automobile: A modern marvel before the turn of the 20th century, an automobile was advertised to be “in operation” at Glen Park one Sunday in September 1899, and was to “convey passengers around the park.”

Electricity: The power of electric light was still a novelty on July 2, 1899, when Glen Park was reported to be “aglow” with incandescent and arc lights, after the grounds were “extensively wired.”

Military Games

Mounted broad-sword contest: This exciting event was scheduled more than once and was not onlyperformed by two of the most “scientific sword fighters in the country,” but also on horseback. One contest featured a mounted sword match between Sergeant G.W. Moffitt of the Fourth Cavalry (U.S. Army, Presidio of San Francisco) and Lieutenant J. L. Waller of the National Guard. Both were noted to be “deft and handy with their weapons” and spectators were promised an exciting exhibition. Even though Sergeant Moffatt “broke his sword during the third attack, he won the contest with the close score of 11 to 9.”

Shooting Range: As noted in Part III, a shooting range had been constructed so that shots could be fired from one side of Glen Canyon to the other. Military batteries from around the Bay Area would venture to Glen Park for a weekend stay. It was often reported that the soldiers had enjoyed the grounds with an elaborate dinner and party the previous evening before competing against each other the next day.

Unbeknownst to modern pleasure-seekers, sham military battles took place in the wilds of Glen Canyon a century ago, helping members of the California National Guard hone their skills in practice battles that included real weapons. This sham battle took place in Glen Canyon 12 days before the Great Earthquake. From the San Francisco Call, April 6, 1906. Available at the California Digital Newspaper Collection. (click image to enlarge)

Sham Battle: Practicing battle tactics and maneuvers with actual weapons was a new requirement for the U.S. Army in 1906, and Glen Canyon was the perfect location for local National Guard units to receive their hands-on experience:

“Company F. N. G. C. held a military field day at Glen Park yesterday. One of the features was a sham battle which was realistically presented by the enthusiastic militiamen. The ‘battle’ was waged with all the picturesque effects of the ‘real thing.’ Captain Stindt led the center in the charge of Company F against an invisible enemy. Lieutenant Hyde led the right and First Sergeant Bush the left.

“Taking advantage of all cover as they would have done had they been charging a real enemy with long range Mausers, the company crept up the slope of a hill until they were within fifty yards of the point to be taken. Then with a yell the company sprang from cover and rushed up the slope with fixed bayonets and charged the imaginary earthworks.

“After the ‘battle’ was over a number of the sports which are part of the day’s work with the regular army men were taken up, including cartridge and bayonet races. Target shooting wound up the day’s outing.”

The Final Measure of Success

Bears, elk, a big baboon, and a lonesome seal. Rocket birds and vagrant ostriches. Human bombs and atmospheric performances. Women with lions, women with guns, acrobatic women on the backs of horses. Pugilistic bouts, sham military battles, military bands on horses marching in step. The variety and inherent danger of many of the acts presented at the Mission Zoo and Park almost 115 years ago appears to have succeeded in bringing the masses to Glen Park.

But did it succeed in selling home lots? After all, that was the plan concocted by Baldwin & Howell: start a zoo to give people a good enough reason to make the journey to the the City’s Outside Lands at Glen Park. The next post of this series, Part V of The San Francisco Mission Zoo: The Wilder Days of Glen Park, will attempt to answer that question.

Sources

Lockwood, C and Craig ,C. Woodward’s Gardens, c. 1860. Available at Foundsf.org.
San Francisco Chronicle, various issues, available at San Francisco Public Library Articles and Databases.
San Francisco Call, various issues, available at California Digital Newspaper Collection.
San Francisco Examiner, various issues, available at the San Francisco Public Library.
Oakland Tribune, various issues, available at NewspaperArchive.com.
History and Culture, Wright Brothers National Memorial. Available at the National Park Service.
Anonymous. Thomas Scott Baldwin. Parachute Jump, 1887. Available at the Cliff House Project.
Recks, R. Baldwin, Thomas A. Available at Who’s Who of Ballooning.
Freeman, J. Johnnie the Birdman: The Original Birdman of San Francisco. Available at Outsidelands.org.
San Francisco Public Utilities Commission. LID Basin Analysis Technical Memorandum Islais Creek Drainage Basin April 2009. Available at the SFPUC.
St Leon, M. Personal communication, August 2012. St Leon family history available at pennygaff.com.au.
The American Experience. Lillian Smith-Biography. Available at PBS.org.
Brightwell, E. The roots of jazz – cakewalk – Amoeba’s jazz week. Available at Amoeblog.

2 Comments by Evelyn Rose, CTO (Chief Tramping Officer) / September 3, 2012 / Posted in: Recreation in San Francisco

The San Francisco Mission Zoo: Wilder Days in Glen Park (Part III)

Part III – Glen Park Rocks!

Glen Park is a place of tall trees, benches placed in cool retreats, soda water counters and counters for the serving of other cooling beverages, and all the fixtures to be found at well-regulated pleasure retreats.

An image of a possibly staged event for the “proposed” Mission Zoo, perhaps to promote how successful the zoo could be. The hill appears to be Martha Hill. The dirt road is likely today’s Bosworth Street entrance into Glen Canyon. The round structure in the center is a helium balloon, with the letters “GL” (Glen Park). Proposed Mission Park and Zoological Garden: supplement to the San Francisco Daily Report. Scenes in Glen Park – the Proposed Mission zoo (no date). Image courtesy of the North Baker Research Library, California Historical Society. (Click image to enlarge)

To visit the little village of Glen Park today, located in the heart of the County of San Francisco, one would see no visible clues of its former glory as the City’s epicenter for fun, frolic, and excitement for thousands of adventure-seekers. As we learned in Part I, the whole enterprise was concocted to sell home lots in the new Glen Park Terrace. In Part II, history revealed how a prominent San Francisco architect had designed a grand and elegant structure for a zoo that would be sure to attract many.

The amusement venues for Sunday excursions available to the people of San Francisco in the late 1890s and early 1900s were many and varied. Just to name a few, they included a number of dramatic and comedy theaters, horse racing at Ingleside Park (you can still circle the track on Urbano Drive in Ingleside Terrace), events in the Mechanics Pavilion (Grove and Larkin Streets on the site of the Bill Graham Auditorium), the Chutes water park (first in the Haight, then later at Tenth Avenue and Fulton Street), baseball at Recreation Park (8th and Harrison Streets), and coursing — the pursuit of game by dogs, usually greyhounds, that used their sight instead of their nose — at the Ingleside Coursing Park (located west of the House of Refuge on today’s San Francisco City College campus). Several advertisements promoting weekend events ran in all of the City’s newspapers throughout the week. Usually listed under Amusements, capturing the attention of the greatest number of attendees with the biggest, most death-defying acts was paramount.

Once the San Francisco Board of Supervisors rejected the purchase of the Gum Tree Tract from the Baldwin & Howell agency in September 1898, plans for the Mission Park and Zoological Gardens seem to have been down-sized. The design by Frank S. Van Trees was never built, and all future reference to the enterprise would be shortened to the Mission Zoo, Mission Park, or just Glen Park. However, the show had to go on, and go on it did on a rocking scale.

Advertisement for a sensational Opening Day, Mission Park Zoo. San Francisco Chronicle, October 16, 1898. Courtesy of San Francisco Public Library, Articles and Databases. (Click image to enlarge)

Opening Day

The grand opening of the Mission Zoo on October 16, 1898 was labeled as the “Sensation of the Century.” An over-the-top bill of events was scheduled, including a high-wire act, balloon ascension with a parachute drop, and the Fourth Cavalry Band performing while mounted on horses. This would set a high bar not only for subsequent weeks at the Mission Zoo, but also for the other amusement venues competing for the throngs of excursion-seekers every weekend throughout the City and Bay Area.

Attendance

Monday reports of Sunday activities nearly always noted that the Mission Zoo was “well attended,” with crowds typically ranging well into the thousands. Opening Day alone garnered 10,000 to 15,000 people. The San Francisco Chronicle reported,

“The success of the first day augurs well for the future popularity of the grounds, and members of the Glen Park Company, which is behind the enterprise, feel satisfied that the attractions they offer will not fail to draw large crowds. As car after car, loaded in some cases to the roof, came to the park gates, the face of Superintendent E.M. Long took on an expansive smile of satisfaction. Even his hopes were exceeded.”

When the park “reopened” for a new season in April 1899, 8,000 people were reported to have attended the festivities.

The entrance fee to the Mission Park and Zoo was ten cents, and children under five were free. Some days were advertised as free admission for all, and all shows and events inside the 145-acre park were provided at no additional charge. Having just victoriously emerged from the Spanish-American War in the Caribbean and Pacific theaters, soldiers in uniform were always admitted free of charge. “Valuable prizes” were sometimes distributed at the gate, at least once noted to be from the San Francisco department store, The Emporium (whose flagship store was located on the site of today’s Westfield Shopping Center on Market Street between 4th and 5th Streets).

Getting There

The San Francisco Call reported just one month after Opening Day that, ”Glen Park was fast becoming one of the most popular private resorts in the city, and fills the long-felt want of the Mission residents for a place of amusement in that section of the city.” The crowds making their way to the Mission Zoo were soon overwhelming the San Francisco and San Mateo Railroad, with local newspapers reporting that the crowds could “hardly be handled by the railway companies.”

As highlighted in Part I, the first route had been established by the Joost Brothers in 1892 to bring residents to the neighboring Sunnyside district. Passengers traveled outbound from the downtown area by trolley, requiring a transfer at 30th and Chenery Streets. For well into the early 1900s, the Crocker-Langley San Francisco Directory would list the main entrance to the Mission Zoo and Park as Diamond and Chenery Streets, where the railroad turned to continue its journey to the San Mateo County line.

View along Chenery Street at Lippard Avenue, before 1922. The tracks that carried trolley cars full of fun-seekers to the Mission Zoo are visible. Image courtesy of the San Francisco Historic Photograph Library, San Francisco Public Library.

By April 1899, a second track was added along Chenery, helping improve the frequency of trains now able to simultaneously go outbound and inbound. The following month, a new spur track was established so that riders no longer needed to transfer at Church and 30th but could now ride directly to the end of the zoo line at its Diamond and Chenery entrance. Eventually, the railroad would extend another 800 feet into the Park’s enclosure. Some maps note the terminus as Chenery Street and Lippard Avenue, though others show it extending all the way to Surrey Street.

This Crocker-Langley Guide Map (1902) highlights two of the three railroads that brought the hordes of passengers to Mission Park and Zoo in Glen Canyon. The first railroad established by the Joost Brothers brought passengers along Chenery to the Park’s entrance at Diamond. Later, the Market Street Railway delivered passengers to Berkshire and Burnside. By the early 1900s, the Southern Pacific Railroad had constructed the Bosworth Tunnel, depositing additional zoo-goers at Sunny Side (today’s Monterey Boulevard) and Baden Avenue (route not shown). Image courtesy of the North Baker Research Library, California Historical Society. (Click image to enlarge)

At the same time, the Market Street Railway was in the process of completing new tracks along Berkshire Street from Chenery Street. According to the San Francisco Sanborn Insurance Maps from 1905 and earlier maps, Berkshire Street ran parallel to Wilder Street and Glen Avenue (today’s Chenery Street west of Diamond Street) to its intersection with Burnside Avenue. A remnant of Berkshire remains today as the alley named Kern Street, adjacent to and across from the Glen Park Branch of the San Francisco Public Library and running west for one block to Brompton Avenue, then beyond to Burnside via the grassy plots adjacent to Bosworth Street.

By 1905, yet another rail entry to the park was documented on the Guide Map of the City and County of San Francisco, published by J.J. Hoag (available at the North Baker Research Library, California Historical Society). This route made its way from downtown along San Jose Avenue, then advanced westerly on Sunny Side Avenue (today’s Monterey Boulevard) to its intersection with Baden Street. After disembarking, riders could then walk over the hill and approach the Mission Zoo from the south.

The Southern Pacific Railroad (SP) and Market-street Railway were also keen on bringing passengers to Mission Zoo and Park. City Supervisor Dr. Charles Clinton had earlier raised the hackles of real estate promoter A.S. Baldwin by refusing to support the City’s purchase of the Crocker-owned and Baldwin & Howell-managed Gum Tree Tract to establish the park and zoological gardens. Things had become so heated that Mayor James D. Phelan had to pull them apart (see Part I). Just three months later, in late December 1898, Supervisor Clinton was still adamantly opposed to any agreements, or “job” as he put it, for the new independent enterprise. The City had agreed to set aside $24,000 to construct the Bosworth Tunnel for SP and Mayor Phelan had not issued a veto, as Clinton had expected. Believing that SP could certainly pay for the tunnel itself and that Mayor Phelan was showing favoritism to both SP and zoo management, Clinton launched into a tirade,

“Mr. Chairman, I am surprised, I am pained. I was in hopes that this time your vote would be heard against this latest steal, this latest job that is being railroaded through this board for the benefit of the Southern Pacific and the owners of the Mission Zoo. I am surprised, I am shocked, your Honor, that for a single time you should have recognized and become a party to such a bare-faced steal as this Bosworth street tunnel … I understand that last week your Honor drove over the ground with one of the gentlemen who is largely interested in the Zoo Park … I do say that you were probably influenced. I say that this matter is an out and out steal, and the rankest that this board has worked …”

While Mayor Phelan responded his decision was based on a unanimous petition he had received from the residents of the Bosworth area in support of the tunnel. Yet, Clinton went on to call Phelan “… either a fool or a knave …” for not seeing that the better entrance be to extend Bosworth to Sunny Side Avenue to avoid the need for a tunnel. As noted above, Mission Zoo management and pleasure-seekers would eventually have the benefit of all three railroad access points.

Along with railway improvements for the new venture, local streets in Glen Park were requiring improvement as well. In 1899, it was noted that residents of the Glen Park district were “jubilant” over the newly refurbished street surface on Lippard Avenue, as well as the construction of three new foot bridges over Islais Creek. The one over the creek on Clinton Avenue (now Chilton Avenue) was reported to be “… a great convenience to women and children, who no longer will have to wade through mud or trail dust.”

Structures

It was noted in the press that the managers of Glen Park had spared no expense to make “… this Mission resort one of the most popular private outdoor places of amusement on the coast.”

In late 1898, a large tent was constructed for the performance of vaudeville and other acts. A “grand scenic road” was to lead visitors into the canyon (whether this is today’s “Alms Road” that leads to Silver Tree School, or the Bosworth Street entrance into Glen Canyon is not clear). An overhead tramway was planned, but there is no evidence it was ever constructed. A large, rustic pavilion to be used as a café and capable of seating 200 people was also built and ready for business by Thanksgiving, 1898. In January 1899, a new vaudeville theatre was to begin construction to replace the existing “mammoth” amphitheatre, expected to have “the largest seating capacity of any place of amusement on the coast.” In July of 1899, the “big pavilion” was reported open.

Man-made resevoir noted to be at the “South End” of Glen Park. Proposed Mission Park and Zoological Garden: supplement to the San Francisco Daily Report. Scenes in Glen Park – the Proposed Mission Zoo (no date). Image courtesy of the North Baker Research Library, California Historical Society. (Click image to enlarge)

While the Italian renaissance design for the zoo envisioned by Van Trees was not built, some elements of the plan were retained. In August of 1899, the new Seal Lake was reported under construction along “the main driveway” in Glen Park. Additional man-made lakes were also installed.

Man-made lake described as “Upper Lake” in Glen Park. Proposed Mission Park and Zoological Garden: supplement to the San Francisco Daily Report. Scenes in Glen Park – the Proposed Mission Zoo (no date). Image courtesy of the North Baker Research Library, California Historical Society. (Click image to enlarge)

Mayor Phelan called for new bridges in Glen Park in June of 1900, as the existing structures were not strong enough to carry the crowds, based on an inspection by City Chief Engineer Carl Ewald Grunsky. The two bridges described as being the “farthest north, above the bear pit,” were reported to have stringers of insufficient strength. The Glen Park Company agreed to replace them.

Morro Castle

Morro Castle was constructed as part of the new Mission Zoo and Park, opening one month before the official zoo opening in October 1898. It commemorated the recent victories in Cuba during the Spanish-American War. It may have been located somewhere near today’s Sussex Street between Mizpah and Conrad Streets. Image courtesy of the San Francisco Historic Photograph Library, San Francisco Public Library.

A Moorish-style castle was built to resemble the famous structure of the same name in Havana, Cuba, site of the famous battle in which Bianco of the Spanish forces ordered the castle’s cannons to fire on the American Fleet during the Spanish-American War. Reports from Havana dominated the headlines in the months before the park and zoological gardens would open.

The Chronicle reported the location of Glen Park’s Morro Castle as “… on the side hill” in April 1899. In viewing images of Morro Castle from the perspective of Islais Creek, it’s possible the structure was located somewhere around the vicinity of modern-day Sussex Street at Mizpah, Swiss, or Conrad Streets.

Shooting Range

In July of 1899, a 200-yard target range was reported to be under construction in Mission Park “out Ingleside way.” It opened within the month with 10 targets and corresponding shooting stands “across the valley.” The San Francisco Call reported, “A fine shooting shed after the pattern of a Swiss Alpine house has been erected.” The range was upgraded in 1905. According to an article in the Call,

“The new shooting ground in Glen Park had its first trial yesterday, when Companies A, D and F of the First Regiment, National Guard of California, opened fire over the range. The contour of the park is such that the bullets are sent against the targets over the picnic grounds without endangering the safety of persons unless they be in the low lying valley. But this will never be permitted by Chris Stated, the lessee, who will see to it that no person is admitted inside the valley while shooting is in progress.

“The targets are on the east side of the hill, while the marksmen take their places in the west. The view is good, and with the young trees lately planted and growing into timber proportions, fogs such as invariable cloud the gulch when blown in from the ocean will be to a certain extent stopped from blurring the vision of the men at the breastworks.

“The station allotted for the soldiers is constructed in such a manner as standing up when firing is done away with. A breastwork on an incline plane, with rests for the rifles, is comfortably made, so that the men lie on their stomachs when firing.”

Management Challenges

As with any opening day, no matter the venue, the unanticipated is likely to happen. The size of the crowds was unexpected, and in the middle of San Francisco’s “Indian Summer,” the sun on Opening Day in 1898 was reported to be “beating down.” The Chronicle complained, “There was a noticeable lack of places of refreshment. Only one small stand had the privilege on the grounds. The proprietor ran out of drinkables early in the day, and appeased the clamorous thirst of his customers with ice water at 5 cents a glass. A public drinking fountain in the center of the grounds had a crushing patronage …”

The zoo was also not without controversy or crime. Just a couple of weeks after the Mission Zoo opened, the Call reported that,

“A horde of hoodlums made Rome howl at Glen Park yesterday. As a result several of them are registered at the Central Station, and they are not likely to repeat their actions. The racket started by the refusal of a couple of fellows to pay for drinks they had ordered, whereupon the bartender called a special policeman and he placed them under arrest. A gang of their pals interfered, and the fracas soon spread to many parts of the grounds. A message was sent to the Central Station and several officers were immediately dispatched to the scene, but everything had quieted down before they arrived.”

Finally, after much ado, the stage had been set, and the necessary transportation and structures were in place. The masses were coming to Glen Park for pleasure, excitement, and entertainment. So what about those death-defying, stupendous, world-famous, jaw-dropping attractions? We’ll learn more in the next post, Part IV of The Mission Zoo: Wilder Days in Glen Park.

View San Francisco Mission Zoo: Wilder Days in Glen Park (Part III) in a larger map

Sources

San Francisco Chronicle, various issues, available at the San Francisco Public Library, Articles and Databases.
San Francisco Call, various issues, available at California Digital Newspaper Collection.
San Francisco Examiner, various issues, available at the San Francisco Public Library.
Oakland Tribune, various issues, available at NewspaperArchive.org.
Anonymous. Crocker-Langley San Francisco Directory. H.S. Crocker Co.: San Francisco. 1897. Available at Archive.org.

4 Comments by Evelyn Rose, CTO (Chief Tramping Officer) / September 3, 2012 / Posted in: Recreation in San Francisco

The San Francisco Mission Zoo: Wilder Days in Glen Park (Part II)

Part II: Dame Nature Has Done Her Part

“Next to the Klondike excitement, the subject which is creating the greatest local interest is that of a Mission Park.”

Design for the new Mission Park Zoo in Glen Park’s Gum Tree Tract by prominent San Francisco architect Frank S. Van Trees in 1897. In the “Italian renaissance” style, the zoo would have 38 cages of various sizes for the proposed menagerie. In the San Francisco Daily Report, August 7, 1897. California General Subject Collection. Courtesy of the Alice Phelan Sullivan Library, Society of California Pioneers. (Click image to enlarge)

Those who knew and loved the Gum Tree Grove in the area of today’s Glen Canyon claimed, “Dame Nature Has Done Her Part.” The tract was treasured for “… its fine climate, its diversified topography and its accessibility to all parts of the City.”While the Supervisors ultimately rejected the land purchase and chose instead to use appropriations for the improvement of roads, schools, and utilities, the fondness with which supporters spoke of the Gum Tree Tract provides us with deeper insight as to what the neighborhood of Glen Park used to be like. Concurrently, a grand design for the new zoo by a leading San Francisco architect portrayed what supporters back in the day wished the future for Glen Park would hold.

Members of the Fairmount Improvement Club, adjacent to the proposed grounds, agreed that,

“The gum-tree tract is the place. We want crowds to visit the Mission. A zoo there will bring the people here. Many live near the grove, and can walk there. The streetcars pass it. Those who want to drive there can do so, and after passing through can drive on to the Golden Gate Park and to the Balboa road without having to go three miles out of their way. It is the natural outlet and driveway from the Mission to Golden Gate Park.”

It was also noted that there were,

“… about 100,000 trees of various kinds on the grounds … the entire land is filled with natural springs and running water. This item alone would save the City at least $6000 per annum.”

In their opposition to the suggestion by oppositional Mission residents that the more suitable location was “… in the vicinity of the Jewish Cemetery property, which consists of two blocks of land between Eighteenth and Twentieth, Church and Dolores streets” (today’s Dolores Park), the Fairmount Improvement Club resolved that,

“… a large park and a zoo will bring more people to the Mission and afford more enjoyment to a larger number than a mere square; … the ‘Gum-tree Tract’ is well adapted for the purpose of a park and a zoological garden …”

The Fairmount Improvement Club, among others, also opposed the price of the Jewish Cemetery property, an enormous $300,000 for just 14 acres in 1897, compared to Baldwin and Howell’s 145-acre Gum Tree Tract, offering 131 additional acres for only $87,500 more.

Other residents, such as druggist John H. Dawson (whose business was located at Twenty-second and Valencia and who had been a Mission resident for 20 years) noted that the Mission Park would, “… insure to the City a magnificent zoological collection and be a boon to and a source of pride to the whole City …” and “… would form an attraction that would be reckoned among the resources of the coast.” Patrick Wall, a Mission resident and large land owner “since the early days” pointed out that,

“The northern part of San Francisco is well supplied with parks. Not only is Golden Gate Park available, but the Presidio and Black Point reservations and Sutro Heights answer the same purpose. No part of the Western Addition is at an inconvenient distance from some agreeable breathing place. But further south, where the need is greater, there are no such opportunities. There are bare, open spaces as yet, but even these will disappear in time if we do not save some of them from the advance of the builders.”

J. Murray, a merchant in the Mission district, responded to the claim that the soil in Glen Park was poor and unproductive:

“I have farmed the land in question until very recently, living thereon for about twenty-six years and raising large crops of hay and some of the finest vegetables that could be produced. There are at least twenty-seven springs on the land and during all my long lease I had an abundant supply of water … We want a large ground and no finer place could be found than the land I have farmed.”

Real estate promoted A.S. Baldwin also asked the proprietor of the San Francisco Daily Report, William M. Bunker, to issue a poster to promote the park. Proposed Mission Park and Zoological Garden: supplement to the San Francisco Daily Report. Scenes in Glen Park – the Proposed Mission zoo (no date). Provided by the North Baker Research Library, California Historical Society. (Click image to enlarge)

A. S. Baldwin found an important advocate and ally for the Mission Park and Zoological Gardens who could also provide a promotional platform: William M. Bunker, owner of the evening newspaper, The San Francisco Daily Report. Bunker would use the Daily Report for the promotion of a wondrous and grand plan for designing the zoo, then stocking the zoo with wild animals. He later published a poster that highlighted the beauty and openness of the new park.

In a Call article, Bunker was quoted to say, “The Mission needs a park and ought to have one, and the City needs a zoo and ought to have one. The zoo should be at the Mission, because the Mission has paid a very large proportion of the City taxes and yet received no municipal recognition. The land for the zoo should be bought now, when real estate is low …” The Daily Report even held an contest for the best essay by “pupils of city schools” about “the material and educational value of a park and zoo in San Francisco,” to contain over 1000 words and “written on one side of the paper.” The prizes were claimed to be “Better Than Klondyke Nuggets,” with first prize listed at $100.

As part of his plan, Baldwin commissioned 31-year old San Francisco architect Frank S. Van Trees to design a bold and memorable structure. Van Trees is noted in the Pacific Coast Architecture Database as having been a prominent architect in Los Angeles and San Francisco, “… doing many house designs for wealthy clients in posh neighborhoods, such as Pacific Heights.” In real estate news, he was also listed as the architect for homes in San Mateo and Burlingame. His wife, Julia Crawford Ivers, wrote 30 Hollywood screenplays before her death in 1930. Their eldest son, James Crawford Van Trees, Sr., would be President of the American Society of Cinematographers (ASC) in Hollywood during 1923-1924.

A local example of Van Trees’ work includes the Koshland House, 3800 Washington Street at Maple Street, patterned after a portion of the Petit Trianon at Versailles. He was also commissioned by Phoebe Hearst, mother of San Francisco Examiner editor William Randolph Hearst, to design the Hearst Free Library in Anaconda, Montana. Mrs. Hearst thought very highly of Anaconda, providing not only the building, but also its books and art. Van Trees designed what is termed as the “classic library” in 1898, and it has remained open for the benefit of the people of Anaconda for over a century.

Van Trees’ design for the proposed zoo in Glen Park, published in the Daily Report on August 7, 1897, was exceptionally elegant. In Van Trees’ own words,

“The building as designed … will be built about a court, 300 feet by 250 feet. In general style the structure, which will be permanent in character and constructed in a substantial manner, will be what is known as the Italian renaissance. There will be a colonnade on three sides, with three grand entrances, and in the arcade in front of the animals’ cages will be a walk. The part of the roof to be seen from the court will be of tiling.

“There will be thirty-eight large cages from 13 feet by 15 feet to 15 feet by 18 feet with some very large ones of 40 feet, and in addition to these the designs provide for two large, open cages to connect with the closed ones – say for monkeys, lions or exercising the animals. The depth of the building, giving an idea of its generous proportions, will be 33 feet, and the general height will be 16 feet to the eaves and 32 feet to the extreme top.

“The cost of this building will be $12,000 and that amount covers the material, the cages, the labor of construction and everything …

“The central court, with well laid out walks, will have the seal pond in the center. Those who recollect the crowds that attended the daily feeding of the sea lions at Woodward’s Gardens years ago can understand how excellent an arrangement this is, as the seal pond can be seen from any part of the square, and there will be no need to crowd into a narrow space. The grass of the lawns, and an occasional palm in the court will give the proper quantity of green to the picture and the animal house of San Francisco’s zoological garden will be remembered by visitors.

“No crowding will be necessary at any place in the zoo. A broad walk will surround the court beyond the shelter of the roof … those who wish to see the animals at comparatively close quarters may walk along safe from the reach of the beasts behind the bars, the supporting columns of the roof forming a beautiful colonnade 300 feet long on the sides of the court and 250 feet long at the farther end where the huge open cages will be placed.

“It is characteristic of the climate of California that the cages will not have to be closed as they are in other countries. They may be left open at all hours without injury to the animals. Thus it will be possible to see the animals at night – really the only time to see wild animals, for to these inhabitants of the jungle darkness is their day.

“Entering the colonnade by any one of the three grand entrances the visitors will pass along in any direction under cover of a roof or may pass out across the square on graveled walks, with the animals always in view. The arrangement is one that will commend itself to every observer.”

With the zoo’s design in hand, Baldwin next enlisted the help of Anson C. Robison, a “well-known dealer in birds and animals” who knew “… as much about, at least, the commercial end of zoology as anybody in the United States.” His place of business was located in 1897 at 387 Kearney Street and on Market near Sixth Street. After reviewing Van Trees’ design, Robison noted, “It is entirely original and I do not think any other zoological garden in the world has anything quite like it.” His only suggested revision was to eliminate the fountain and make it solely an “artificial lake for sea lions.”

Robison’s main role was to suggest the types of animals to place in the new structure. He noted that, “… a very attractive collection consisting of about 170 animals” could be purchased. Robison believed that once the zoo was established, many donations would be made and “… in a little while we will have all the animals we want.”

During his inspection of the Gum Tree Tract, Robison observed the area had,

“… much greater advantages for a zoo than any other location submitted. It contains hill land and valley land, has a creek running through the center of it which could be made into small lakes with rustic bridges over them, and there are many sheltered spots on it which can be made even more so in a few years by planting trees. There are plenty of animals that will thrive better on the high portions of the land such as deer, antelope, mountain goats, elks, reindeer and buffaloes.”

Robison also believed that a “fine aviary” could be established at Glen Park at great improvement over the existing aviary at Golden Gate Park, where he claimed that “… so much interbreeding has taken place that before long it will be a difficult matter to tell what species the birds belong to.”

The following is the list of the animals Robison proposed as an “interesting collection” to be housed in the 38 cages of the new zoo and their estimated cost:

One pair ant eaters	$ 10	One pair baboons	$100
One pair California coons	$ 5	One pair dog-faced monkeys	$ 50
One pair porcupines	$ 10	One pair apes	$ 50
One pair badgers	$ 10	One pair Gibbon monkeys	$ 50
One pair California lions	$ 25	One pair lynxes	$ 30
One pair panthers	$ 25	One pair hyenas	$100
One pair wild cats	$ 15	One pair Esquimaux^† dogs	$ 30
One pair coyotes	$ 10	One pair Rehus^‡ monkeys	$ 25
One pair black bears	$ 40	One pair Cudge monkeys	$ 25
One pair cinnamon bears	$ 40	One par white monkeys	$100
One pair gray foxes	$ 10	One pair rat-tail monkeys	$ 25
One pair kangaroos	$100	One pair pig-tail monkeys	$ 25
One pair wallobys*	$ 50	One pair spider monkeys	$ 40
One pair kangaroo rats	$ 10	One large cage of fifty different kinds of squirrels	$100
One pair ant bears	$ 10	One large cage of fifty monkeys of different species	$400
*Total Cost: $1,190*

* wallabies ^† Eskimo ^‡Rhesus

Seeing this list, it is no wonder why the project was criticized as “The Monkey Ranch” in “Squirrel Hollow,” as we saw in Part I.

Robison noted he would be “glad to take a contract” to not only furnish the animals but to maintain them for a monthly fee of $350. He proposed that the zoo be constructed first to establish “immediate interest in the new park” while other improvements such as the building of roads and the planting of trees were underway. He added,

“Within a year’s time a splendid zoological garden can be established and the cost for the animals would be a comparatively small matter. Of course, when you come to buy lions, elephants, rhinoceroses, hippopotami, a good deal of money can be spent. A lion costs all the way from $100 to $1000, elephants from $1000 to $5000 each, and hippopotami and rhinoceroses from $1000 to $3000 each.”

“The sea lion pond will be very interesting. Six sea lions can be maintained at a cost of about $10 per month each. They live on fish and are fed a little meat. They cost between $75 and $100 each, and do just as well in fresh water as in salt.”

Claiming he had “no interest in the project whatever,” of the properties offered to the City, Robison had only seen the Baldwin & Howell tract. He believed that if the people of the Mission were,

“… fortunate enough to get one they will soon appreciate its value. It seems to me that it will be the means of greatly increasing the value of property around it and it will certainly be a great card for the Mission if it is located there. The railroad companies ought to be willing to subscribe liberally toward this enterprise.”

It sounds as if A. S. Baldwin’s power and sway may have been used to influence Robison’s opinions. We should not forget that the only purpose of establishing a park and zoological gardens near the Glen Park Tract was, after all, to sell home lots.

Once the San Francisco Board of Supervisors quashed the land purchase, the desire to establish a zoo on such a grand scale to house zoo animals yet to be acquired seems to have fallen by the wayside. Yet, the desire to build a park and zoological gardens on a lesser scale remained. By October 1898, thousands of visitors would be making their way to the wooded outlands for some “breathing room.” Based on the number and variety of performers advertised, there seems to have been good reason for them to make the trip.

Next Post: Part III – Glen Park Rocks!

View San Francisco’s Mission Zoo (Part II) in a larger map
Sources

Biographical Information, Frank S. Van Trees. Available at the Pacific Coast Architecture Database.
The Koshland House. Available at the Victorian Alliance of San Francisco.
History, Hearst Free Library, Anaconda, Montana. Available at HearstFreeLibrary.org.
Anonymous. Facts and figures about the Mission Park and Zoo: What animals and a home for them would cost. San Francisco Daily Report, August 7, 1897. Available at Alice Phelan Library, Society of California Pioneers.
Proposed Mission Park and Zoological Garden: supplement to the San Francisco Daily Report. Scenes in Glen Park – the Proposed Mission zoo. Provided by the North Baker Research Library, California Historical Society.
The San Francisco Call, various issues. Available at the California Digital Newspaper Collection.
The San Francisco Examiner, various issues. Available at the San Francisco Public Library.
The San Francisco Chronicle, various issues. Available at the San Francisco Public Library Articles and Databases.
Anonymous. Crocker-Langley San Francisco Directory. H.S. Crocker Co.: San Francisco. 1897. Available at Archive.org.

No Comments by Evelyn Rose, CTO (Chief Tramping Officer) / September 3, 2012 / Posted in: Recreation in San Francisco

The San Francisco Mission Zoo: Wilder Days in Glen Park (Part I)

Part I: Fisticuffs Over a Monkey Ranch

This “Chevalier” Map of San Francisco shows the layout of Glen Park Terrace and the adjoining Gum Tree Tract in today’s Glen Canyon, home to the Mission Park and Zoological Gardens beginning in 1898. Courtesy of the Rumsey Historical Map Collection. (Click image to enlarge)

Picture yourself in San Francisco in the waning years of the Gay Nineties. It’s a pleasant Sunday morning and over the breakfast table, while sipping a cup of freshly brewed Golden Gate Coffee, you hear the question, “My dear, whatever shall we do today?”

Before the days of indoor electronics and high-speed super highways to distant locales, such a query likely passed over many a table. Hordes of San Franciscans sought Sunday excursions of one sort or another for a day-long escape from the City’s confines. If not by ferry across the straits of the Golden Gate to Marin County for a tramp up and around Mt. Tamalpais, then amusement could be found in the largely uninhabited areas both around and beyond the City’s own San Miguel Hills (today’s Mt. Sutro, Twin Peaks, and Mt. Davidson).

In 1898, Glen Park became one of those destinations. Also known as Rock Canyon or Rock Gulch, the area was originally part of José de Jesús Noé’s Rancho San Miguel, providing pastures for some of the enormous herds of cattle maintained by Mission Dolores under Spanish and Mexican rule. It served briefly as the location of the first dynamite factory in the United States, personally licensed by Alfred Nobel, before it blew to smithereens in 1869 and killed two men. Eventually, the Crocker Estate Company purchased the tract in 1889 from the family of the late Adolph Sutro. With an ever-increasing population, this commercial interest foresaw the sale of new tracts of residential property to San Franciscans, hoping to gain handsome profits. They called the new neighborhood out in the Outside Lands of San Francisco Glen Park Terrace.

The next challenge: how to get people out to the Outside Lands so they could make the sale. Fortunately for Crocker and colleagues, the Joost Brothers (Behrend, Isaac, and Fabian) owned the adjacent Sunnyside tract and had built a railroad to the area five years before. Starting at the ferry building at the foot of Market Street, they had proposed a route that would wind through the remote lands of the old Rancho San Miguel as it made its way to the San Mateo county line. Approved by the San Francisco Board of Supervisors, the San Francisco & San Mateo Railroad Co. initiated service on April 27, 1892. Passengers traveled by trolley to Church and 30th Streets, where they transferred to another car that advanced through the Fairmount tract along Chenery Street. At today’s intersection of Chenery and Diamond Streets, the little railroad turned left and crossed a 50-foot high trestle over Islais Creek before traveling along today’s San Jose Avenue to reach the county line.

Now all that was needed was a perk attractive enough to encourage residents to get on the train and make the trip to see Glen Park Terrace. So, the Crocker organization partnered with the firm Baldwin & Howell to promote and manage the property. The firm had been founded as McAfee & Baldwin in 1885 but was incorporated as Baldwin & Howell later that year. According to the 1897 edition of the Crocker-Langley San Francisco Directory, A. S. Baldwin, President, and J.R. Howell, Secretary, maintained offices at 10 Montgomery Street and dealt in real estate, collected rents, and were also auctioneers and insurance brokers. In a company history from the mid-20th century, Baldwin and Howell was noted to be the “oldest and largest independently owned real estate firm in California” and had “pioneered residential growth in San Francisco.”

Baldwin & Howell managed to come up with a worthy marketing scheme certain to attract the masses – establish a pleasant park, build a Spanish castle, add some wild animals, and mix it up with entertainment and death-defying acts. Now that would sell real estate!

Baldwin & Howell anticipated that the City and County of San Francisco would be the first entity to buy land so that the new Mission Park and Zoological Gardens could become an official component of the world-class City, just like Golden Gate Park. The idea was well received by property owners and residents of neighboring Noe Valley in August 1897, some of whom formed a club to further the proposed zoo. Frederick E. Hackney, a solicitor who worked for Myers, Carrick & Williams and who resided at 820 Diamond Street, was elected President. Joseph B. Niderost, an employee of the Tubbs Cordage Company and who lived at 816 Diamond street, was elected Secretary.

At about the same time, the West of Castro-street Improvement Club recommended the purchase of the “Gumtree Tract” (the grove of eucalyptus trees in today’s Glen Canyon) as the most desirable location for the proposed Mission Zoo, after hearing the City and County’s Board of Supervisors had favorably considered the proposition of purchasing a site. Member Frederick E. Hakney was quoted as saying, ” … it will benefit the people around here. If we don’t look out for ourselves no one will look out for us, and therefore I am in favor of this park. We don’t want to see flower gardens; we want to see instructive things; we want to go to a place where we don’t have to pay carfare.”

The Fairmount Improvement Club also supported the idea. As reported in the San Francisco Call:

“… a rousing open-air mass-meeting was held last evening at Johnson’s Hall at 235 Chenery street. It was a representative gathering, and the purpose of the assembly was to give voice to the demand for a zoological garden in what is known as the ‘Gum-tree Grove,’ just east of Sunnyside. A platform had been raised on the outside of the house, which served for the speakers and the band … Near by [sic] a huge bonfire threw thousands of sparks in the air. President John L. McLaughlin [a contractor and builder who had purchased his residence at 233 Chenery from Baldwin & Howell in 1897] … opened the meeting by stating that the Mission is sadly in need of a breathing-spot for the inhabitants and particularly the younger element. He called attention to the fact that all the large cities of the world have their recreation parks, and so has San Francisco for that matter, but what the people of the Mission desire is a place near by, where they will not lose half a day in travel, as they do now whenever they go to Golden Gate Park.”

Not everyone was enamored with the idea of a new park and zoo, however. And, that the City was being asked to buy additional land raised even more hackles. In fact, discussions and deliberations would become rather contentious in the press and in the chambers of the Board of Supervisors before it was over.

The initial purchase price offered by Baldwin & Howell to the City in September 1897 was $387,500 ($10 million in 2012) for 144 acres of land valued at $45,000 (about $1 million today). The Gum Tree tract comprised about 5 acres of the total and was valued at $25,000 ($500 per acre). The remaining 139 acres was valued at $300 per acre. In an article entitled “Mission Zoo – Park Jobbery,” the promoters of Glen Park Terrace were accused of being “land schemers” who were “clamboring” at the door of the Board of Supervisors. The Call, whose editors sternly opposed the zoo, noted that the park site was being offered to the City at nine times its assessed value and accused Baldwin & Howell of committing “robbery through a plot by a real estate ring.”

Major B.H. McKinne, an attorney who lived at 317 Hilll Street and served as vice president of the Mission Park and Zoological Association, supported the park and zoo but spoke against the Gum Tree resolution, believing the land was being offered at too high a price. After discussion, the members voted against the resolution. Eventually, the local improvement clubs agreed that the Mission Park and Zoological Gardens should be established, but the decision for the purchase of a specific site should be left to the Board of Supervisors.

Property owners of the Mission District meet to express opposition to the new “Monkey Ranch” and believed City money was better spent on a new hospital and better schools and sewer system. From the San Francisco Call, February 13, 1898. (Click image to enlarge)

The debates continued. In reference to the Fairmount Improvement Club’s Meeting described above,

“The big bonfire and the strains of the brass band were not necessary last evening to draw the representative property owners of the Mission district to Mangels Hall to protest against the threat of the Supervisors that they intended to purchase the Gum Tree Tract at seven times its assessed valuation, and to establish in the gully and on the hill slopes a monkey and parrot ranch.”

The atmosphere continued to heat up. William Randolph Hearst’s San Francisco Examiner had printed many favorable columns about the zoo but then had fallen silent after the Call had exposed the land scheme. The Call challenged their competitor, who they called “… our yellow-covered contemporary,” to express its stand for or against the “Mission monkey garden,” and that “… sometime ago it yielded to the real estate boomers a sort of half-hearted support. Does it still entertain the opinion that a pestilential animal preserve, costing nearly half a million dollars, would be a good thing for the city? That a monkey ranch at the Mission is necessary for the intellectual development of the youth of San Francisco?”

No one was holding back. The Mission Park and Zoological Gardens club led by Hackney was renamed by Professor David Starr Jordan, founding president of Stanford University, as “The Squirrel Hollow Club,” after Starr’s new moniker for the Gum Tree Tract, “Squirrel Hollow.” Dr. Charles Clinton, a City supervisor, believed the Mission did not need a zoo because residents already had free access to Golden Gate Park. He and others believed funds should be used to maintain Golden Gate Park, lest the City would “… endure the spectacle of its world famous park being crippled for lack of funds,” if money was needlessly spent on the Mission Zoo. He added if Mission got a zoo, then the Western Addition, Rincon Hill, and North Beach would each want one, too. All in all, the land sale was designed to “loot the public treasury” and he could not understand why nine of the 12 supervisors sitting at that time actually supported the plan.

As the day for the supervisors to vote on zoo funding as part of the 1898 tax levy for San Francisco approached, the newly expanded Fairmount and Glen Park Improvement Club voted to fully endorse the City’s purchase of the Gum Tree tract for the zoo. They complained that “… thousands of dollars are annually spent for parks on the north side of Mission street, whereas the Mission District is neglected.” Members voted “… to oppose any and all Supervisors who may be nominated next November for any office if said Supervisor does not vote in favor of the purchase of the Zoo tract.”

Debate over the Mission Park and Zoological Gardens came to fisticuffs late one night outside of the chambers of the Board of Supervisors. Mayor Phelan helped quell tempers. From the San Francisco Call, September 20, 1898.

On September 19, 1898, the Supervisors were making final decisions for appropriations under the new tax levy. In the final weeks of the zoo campaign, support for the zoo among supervisors had been fading as other civic needs rose in importance. Realtor A.S. Baldwin presented a letter to the Board asking for a reduced appropriation ($150,000 according to the Examiner, or $275,000 according to the Call) for purchase of the Glen Park tract. He also asked that the Board transfer the decision for selecting the zoo’s location to Mayor James D. Phelan. Supervisor Clinton did not mince words in his negative response to Baldwin, and Mayor Phelan declined to accept the responsibility.

At 10 pm, after a long day at City Hall that would continue late into the night, the Supervisors took a break outside of chambers. Baldwin stopped to speak with Mayor Phelan, and Dr. Clinton soon joined them. According to eyewitnesses, a “merry mix-up” in an “exciting fracas” ensued. The conversation began cordially enough but Baldwin soon raised his voice to Dr. Clinton over his denouncement of the Mission Zoo, saying, “My name has been bandied about here and I don’t propose to stand it!”

Mayor Phelan tried to calm the situation, but Dr. Clinton was heard to say, “I still believe that it is a job and a steal, and I base my own opinion on the opinion of several reputable and capable real estate men, who have placed a value on the tract in question of from $85,000 to $110,000 only … Hence, I consider the property worth only about $75,000. And when the people of the Mission have much-needed school facilities, and their other pressing necessities have been provided for, I shall then, and then only, vote $75,000 for the Mission Zoo.”

Baldwin responded, “If you say that is a job I say you are a liar.” According to the Call, Dr. Clinton then planted an open-handed slap on Baldwin’s cheek (the Examiner described it as a “straight shoulder punch to the right jaw”). Mayor Phelan grabbed Clinton’s arm and Sergeant-at-Arms Henry P. Gianinni grappled with Baldwin just as he was about to strike Clinton with his cane. Upon return to the Supervisors’ chambers, Baldwin demanded that the Board act on the zoo then left City Hall. Both men later expressed regret for the incident.

There had already been some preliminary discussions about the use of existing City property for the Mission Zoo among the supervisors. A second physician on the Board, Dr. Tulio A. Rottanzi, fresh from his success in the banishment of the wearing of “unduly large hats” by ladies in theatres, wanted to convert the existing hospital tract at Portrero and Twenty-sixth Streets, about 10 acres, into a park. He noted,

“It is not very well situated for a park, but for a monkey garden it possesses distinct merit. It is located at the foot of a bluff and is bounded on three sides by civilization. With proper improvements, therefore, the smell inseparable from a zoo could probably be confined during any but very warm weather. The tract possesses another merit. It can be turned into a zoo or a park without much expense … the present hospital has been a disgrace to the city for over ten years … that structure never was much more than a barn. It is now saturated with disease germs and is a disgrace to the city.”

Supervisor Clinton offered up the Branch County Jail on the House of Refuge property (the latter a predecessor of today’s Juvenile Hall; both institutions were located on the property of today’s San Francisco City College in Balboa Park). Clinton described the jail as “a comfortable summer resort for a horde of hoodlums.” He proposed that when the new Hall of Justice was completed and the police department and prison moved into it, then the Mission Zoo could be established on the property at minimal cost to the City. His resolution passed and was to be taken up by Board the following week.

None of these plans came to pass. The Supervisors voted in favor of a new hospital at 26th Street (today’s San Francisco General Hospital) to replace the existing structure. The Branch County Jail would remain active until 1934 when inmates were moved to the new facility in San Bruno. Ultimately, the purchase of land for the Mission Park and Zoological Gardens was a no-go.

That didn’t stop Baldwin & Howell. Lots needed to be sold and the grand opening was still planned for the following month on October 16, 1898. And how grand the zoo would become! World-famous entertainers, wild animals, balloon ascensions, parachuting, pugilistic exhibitions, sword fights, and much more would attract thousands of visitors to Glen Park every week during the park’s annual season, giving the children of the Mission the excitement (though perhaps not the instruction as some had predicted) they needed.

In Part II, Dame Nature Has Done Her Part, a long forgotten history of Glen Canyon will be revived.

View San Francisco’s Mission Zoo in a larger map

Sources

Rose E. Explosive Revelation: Glen Canyon Ties to the Nobel Prize. Glen Park News.Winter 2007/2008. Available at FoundSF.org.
The San Francisco Call, various issues. Available at the California Digital Newspaper Collection.
The Oakland Tribune, various issues. Available at NewspaperArchve.com.
The San Francisco Examiner, various issues. Available at the San Francisco Public Library.
Verplanck, C.P. Glen Park – The Architecture and Social History. Available at the San Francisco Apartment Association.
Anonymous. Crocker-Langley San Francisco Directory. H.S. Crocker Co.: San Francisco. 1897. Available at Archive.org.
Hoag, J.J. San Francisco Blue Book and Club Directory. Charles C. Hoag, Publisher: San Francisco. 1904. Available at Google Books.
Anonymous. Baldwin & Howell Company History. In the Baldwin and Howell Records. San Francisco History Center, San Francisco Public Library. Finding guide available at Online Archive of California.

2 Comments by Evelyn Rose, CTO (Chief Tramping Officer) / September 3, 2012 / Posted in: Recreation in San Francisco

Tagged: A.S. Baldwin, Baldwin and Howell, Charles A. Clinton, Chenery Street, Crocker Real Estate Company, Diamond Street, Glen Canyon, Glen Park, Glen Park Terrace, Golden Gate Park, history, Islais Creek, James D. Phelan, Mission Park and Zoological Gardens, Mission Zoo, Outside Lands, San Francisco, San Francisco Board of Supervisors

Defining San Francisco: How Our City Became a City (Part III)

Part III: A Consolidated Effort

After the 1906 earthquake, the Movement for a Greater San Francisco proposed an expansion of the land mass of the County of San Francisco from 47 square miles to 500 square miles. Families displaced by the Great Earthquake and Fire of 1906 had moved to the country, found they liked it, but still wanted to be officially and geographically “San Franciscans.” From the San Francisco Call, October 3, 1908.

Exploring the origins of the boundaries of our City as they hemmed and hawed over the last 165 odd-years has been quite an unexpected expedition (see Part I and Part II of Defining San Francisco). Novelesque, convoluted, and a much longer row to hoe than we had ever imagined, our hobnailed boots have been worn down to mere nubbins. And, yet, there’s still more to tell. A discussion of the boundaries of the City of San Francisco cannot go without some words about the origins of the boundaries of the County of San Francisco, as the two have been intertwined for over 150 years.

According to the National League of Cities, there are only 40 consolidated city-county governments in the United States. There are three types of consolidation:

Areas designated as metropolitan governments and operating primarily as cities (there are three of these, all in Tennessee);
Areas having certain types of county offices, but as part of another government, such as a city, township, special district, or state (there are 13 of these in nine states); and
Areas with governments legally designated as city-counties and operating primarily as cities (there are 11 of this type in six states).

The City and County of San Francisco falls into the last category, and it is the only consolidated city-county government in all of California’s 58 counties. In order for city and county governments to consolidate, most states require a referendum. Successful outcomes are not easily achieved. Over the past 40 years nationwide, nearly 100 proposals have been taken to the ballot box, but only about one-quarter have actually been approved by voters.

San Francisco has the most common consolidated city-county structure, with a single chief executive who has veto powers and a council from several districts that retains both legislative and fiscal functions. While a “city” by name, this consolidated system administers to matters of both city and state. The advantages of this type of governmental organization include cost-savings over the long-term due to increased efficiency of operation (and, therefore, increased revenue), elimination of duplicate services, enhancement of legal powers and jurisdiction, a streamlined system for community planning, and better overall accountability.

As we learned in Part II, and as only the 15th enactment in their first session, the Legislature divided California into 27 counties on February 18, 1850. The southerly boundary of the County of San Francisco extended to San Francisquito Creek (Palo Alto), then due west three miles into the Pacific Ocean before turning north to incorporate all land on the peninsula. One year later, on April 15, 1851, this definition was extended as far north as Golden Rock (also known as Red Rock, south of today’s Richmond-San Rafael Bridge) to three miles within the high water mark of Contra Costa County, then south to Alameda Creek, then due west to San Francisquito Creek. Alcatraces (Alcatraz) and the Rock Islands (Farallones) were also included.

Other local counties among the original 27 established by the act of 1850 included Marin, Sonoma, Napa, Contra Costa, Branciforte (later renamed Santa Cruz), and Santa Clara. One oversight by the legislature created an overlapping boundary between the eastern boundary of San Francisco and the western edge of Contra Costa County. It would take several unsuccessful attempts by the Legislature to adjust the misalignment before it was finally rectified.

We can thank the first legislators for creating charismatic county names that also pay tribute to the influence of California’s earlier residents:

Alameda – a Spanish word for “a grove of poplar trees” or “a public walk or promenade in the shade of trees.” From álamo, meaning “poplar” (Alameda county was established in 1853 from Contra Costa and Santa Clara counties);
Branciforte – named for the Villa de Branciforte, a secular pueblo established under Spanish rule in 1797 that was located in today’s City of Santa Cruz, (county renamed Santa Cruz in 1851);
Contra Costa – Spanish for “the opposite coast,” as in across the Bay from San Francisco. It was considered a less threatening term than the original suggestion of Mt. Diablo (Devil’s Mountain);
Marin – named for the Coast Miwok chieftan Marin (1781-1839) who engaged in battle with General Mariano Vallejo, was taken prisoner, escaped, imprisoned again, and later retired to Mission San Rafael. He would one day serve as alcade at Mission San Rafael.
Napa – according to Owen C. Coy (1884-1952), former California state historian, “napa” was a local Native American (Patwin) term for “fish” because of the “myriads of fish” in the Napa River. There are other suggestions that it also meant “grizzly” or “house.” The true origin, however, may never be known as those same Native Americans were nearly exterminated by smallpox in 1838;
San Francisco - the Spanish name for the mission established by Padre Junipero Serra (1713-1784) on October 9, 1776: La Misión San Francisco de Asís a la Laguna de los Dolores. Honoring St. Francis of Assisi (1182-1226), founder of the Franciscan order and Patron Saint of animals and ecology;
Santa Clara - another mission established by Padre Serra and named for Saint Clare of Assisi (1194-1253), a friend of Saint Francis and a co-founder of the Franciscan movement;
Santa Cruz - according to Owen Coy, Spanish for the “sainted cross,” denoting the cross followed by the devout Spanish explorers;
Sonoma - Owen Coy believed “Sonoma” was a Native American (Wappo) name meaning “Valley of the Moon,” denoting the location where the last Spanish mission in California, La Misión San Francisco Solano de Sonoma (Mission San Francisco Solano), was founded. This theory was also espoused by Jack London. However, according to modern-day Wappo natives, “… noma is a place, a town or village. The ‘tso’ sound makes it a more important community, ‘earth place,’ or ‘world place,’ a sort of ‘Center of the Universe’ feeling.”

In 1855, there was a failed attempt to establish a new county, Remondo, south of San Francisco but the move succeeded one year later. As a result, both the Counties of San Francisco and Santa Cruz were significantly reduced in size. It is not clear what Remondo referred to locally (there is a Spanish municipality named Remondo in the province of Segovia, Spain) but the legislators ultimately chose San Mateo as the name for the new county. A line drawn westerly from just south of today’s Candlestick Point through the south end of Laguna de la Merced (Lake Merced) marked the new southern boundary of San Francisco. Saint Matthew (or San Matheo), was one of the 12 apostles of Jesus Christ. It was also the name of a creek that used to flow into the Bay near San Mateo’s northern border.

The new county was an indirect result of legislative actions by one Horace Hawes (1813-1871) who, before elected to the State Assembly, had served as District Attorney for San Francisco. During his term as DA, Hawes was instrumental in prosecuting the violent hoodlums that had invaded the frenzied Gold Rush town. When the water lots of San Francisco were approved for sale by the first mayor of San Francisco, John W. Geary (1819-1873), Hawes vehemently disagreed. A man known to have compared himself to Jesus Christ at least twice in his lifetime, Hawes vetoed the move to sell the lots even though he had no power to do so. When that didn’t work, Hawes sought assistance from Governor Peter Burnett (1807-1895), who was serving as the first state governor of California under the American system. Burnett disagreed with Hawes’ point of view and tried to suspend him from his duties. Hawes retaliated by attempting to impeach Burnett but the California legislature would have nothing to do with it.

Despite Hawes’ apparent shortcomings, he did recognize that corruption and vice from the streets were seeping behind the closed doors of the dual City and County governments, resulting in a dishonest, corrupt, and disorganized system. Hawes wanted to do something about it.

By this time (1856), San Francisco had already approved several charters to incorporate and re-incorporate the City, and the State had established the county line at San Francisquito Creek. Hawes had a notion that consolidation of the two separate entities governing San Francisco into a single unit could make the corruption clean-up that much easier. So, in January of that year, Hawes introduced the Consolidation Act to the California Assembly. At the same time, a separate and unrelated bill was introduced that would establish the new county of San Mateo, apparently by some of the same thugs who were trying to control San Francisco.

The battles between upstanding representatives of the people and those only looking out for themselves in the Legislature was fierce. The Consolidation Bill was passed back and forth between the Assembly and Senate, frequently only as a stall measure. After one such attempt, the Sacramento Daily Union issued a report that may still have a somewhat familiar ring:

“Mr. Tilford [Senator Frank Tilford, a Democrat representing San Francisco] – This gentleman, in a speech upon the proposition to send the San Francisco Consolidation bill back to the Assembly, to enable that body to ascertain whether any of the amendments had been left off in the enrollment, made, as reported in the Journal the following scathing remarks upon a class of men who infest every session of the Legislature:

He believed that the only object of getting the bill back was to attach other amendments to it and thus defeat it. This was not, he believed, the object of the Assembly, but it was the influence of others, brought to bear upon the Assembly; those birds of prey, those vultures who fatten upon carcasses, who throng the lobbies of the capitol.

Those loungers in and about the Legislature who make a living and not unfrequently very high wages, by hanging about the capitol and selling their assumed influence to the highest bidder, are very correctly classed by Mr Tilford, as ‘those birds of prey, those vultures who fatten upon carcasses,’ and he might have added, ‘those vultures who fatten upon what there is left of the State carcass.’”

There were rumblings in Chambers that the main purpose of the Consolidation Act was to free San Francisco from her financial debt to the State. As wrangling over the inclusion or omission of certain amendments to the bill led to repeated delays, the San Francisco delegation complained that if the bill were rejected, it would bring “universal ruin and bankruptcy on the city.” (In fact, the City of San Francisco was already nearly bankrupt because of the ongoing legal battles over land ownership.)

Hawes’ original bill said nothing about reducing the size of the County of San Francisco. Yet, in order to get his bill approved, he needed to accept the new county to the south as part of the consolidation. Finally, on April 19, 1856, all previous charters were officially repealed as the Senate and Assembly of California approved the Consolidation Act:

“The corporation, or body politic and corporate, now existing and known as the City of San Francisco, shall remain and continue to be a body politic and corporate, in name and in fact, by the name of the City and County of San Francisco.”

With the new county of San Mateo established, the new boundaries for the County of San Francisco were defined as:

“Beginning at the southwest corner, being northwest corner of San Mateo, in the Pacific Ocean, on the extension of northern line of Township Three South, of Mount Diablo base; thence northerly along the Pacific Coast, to its point of intersection with westerly extension of the low water line on northern side of the entrance to San Francisco Bay, being southwest corner of Marin and northwest corner of San Francisco; thence easterly, through Point Bonita and Point Caballo [Cavallo], to the most southeastern point of Angel Island, all on the line of Marin, … ; thence northerly, along the easterly line of Marin, to the northwest point of Golden Rock (also known as Red Rock), being a common corner of Marin, Contra Costa and San Francisco; thence due southeast four and one-half miles, more or less, to a point distant three statue miles from the natural high-water mark on the eastern shore of San Francisco Bay, being a common corner of Contra Costa, Alameda and San Francisco; thence southeasterly, in a direct line, to a point three miles from said eastern shore, and on the line first named (considered as extending across said bay); and thence west along said first named line to the place of beginning. The islands known as the Farallones shall be attached to and be a part of said city and county.”

The current acreage owned by the City and County of San Francisco. From the Real Estate Division, City and County of San Francisco.

While there have been subsequent disagreements between San Mateo and San Francisco counties over placement of survey stakes and border monuments, as well as disputes over the accuracy of surveys performed decades before, this description of the boundaries of San Francisco is little changed today.

In 1908, only 2 years after the earthquake, a proposal was submitted to the committee of the Greater San Francisco Movement to increase the expanse of land comprising the City and County 10-times over, to 500 square miles. This is the same committee, including industrial and civic representatives from San Francisco, Marin and San Mateo counties, who also endeavored to obtain a supply of water for San Francisco and her neighbors from Hetch Hetchy Valley in Yosemite National Park. The committed believed that the growth of San Francisco was restricted by the existing county boundaries:

“At that time [before the 1906 earthquake and fire] all that could be considered San Francisco proper was confined within the city limits. The peninsula was growing, but the dividing line was clear and unmistakable. After the disaster the homeless found abiding places in the outlying section. Families who had crowded lower Howard, Folsom, Bryant and Brannan streets found more desirable homes in the hills that circle the city. There they found fresh air, garden space, available land at moderate prices and there they chose to stay. In the natural expansion that followed settlements have blossomed on the ridges, along the slopes and in the meadows, until a single city stretches its length along the peninsula … Homes have multiplied into settlements, settlements into towns and towns into cities until today the train passes from one only to enter another … By an arbitrary arrangement, put into effect many years ago, these new home sites, containing San Franciscans, people whose interests lie in the metropolis, are foreign territory, connected by artificial ties to San Mateo county. This is the condition which the new movement seeks to remedy …”

Their solution was to bring San Francisco to them. So that the new rural San Franciscans would not feel so disenfranchised from their “metropolis,” the new boundaries would have extended the County of San Francisco as far north as Bolinas Lagoon in Marin County, then to the north of San Rafael, then east to the area of modern-day San Pablo, along the borders of Alameda and Contra Costa Counties to Grizzly Peak, along the Oakland Hills southward past Redwood Peak to a point just east of Hayward, then turning west and following the Dumbarton Bridge to the border of San Mateo and Santa Clara counties before turning north at the Pacific to run back up the coast to Bolinas (see Google Map). This plan was never approved.

The current charter of San Francisco (last renewed in 1996, with subsequent regular updates) provides the following definition of San Francisco:

“The City and County of San Francisco shall continue as a consolidated City and County with such boundaries as are prescribed by law, pursuant to this Charter and the laws of the State of California.”

Such a mundane and nondescript statement. It reveals nothing of the drama, the characters, the land grabs above and below the water line, the legal and governmental disputes, the immense history that has shaped our City and County boundaries. And, it all began in 1835 when Captain William C. Richardson erected a tent made of four redwood posts and a ship’s foresail near the shores of a remote little cove named Yerba Buena.

The next time you find yourself ambling along Grant Street between Clay and Washington, pause for a moment and try to visualize that single tent, all alone on a sandy dune, the tiny seed from which the City and County of San Francisco emerged.

View County Boundaries of San Francisco in a larger map

Sources

City-County Consolidations. At the National League of Cities.
Worley, A.E.T. The Consolidation Act and Other Acts Relating to the Government of the City and County of San Francisco. Wm. M. Hinton & Co.: San Francisco. 1887. Available at Google Books.
The Sacramento Daily Union, the Daily Alta California, and the San Francisco Call, various editions. Available at the California Digital Newspaper Collection.
Coy, O.C. The Genesis of the California Counties. California Historical Survey Commission:Berkeley, CA. 1923.
Levy, J. Horace Hawes created San Mateo County. The Daily Journal (San Mateo). March 20, 2006. Available at The Daily Journal (San Mateo).
The 1996 Charter and San Francisco Municipal Code. Available at American Legal Publishing Corporation.
Foley, L. Who was St. Francis? At AmericanCatholic.org.
Gagliardi, C.A. Celebrating St. Clare of Assisi. At AmericanCatholic.org.
LeBaron, G.L. The meaning of the word Sonoma. Santa Rosa Press Democrat, March 12, 1995.
O’Brien, R. Riptides. San Francisco Chronicle, September 25, 1946. Available at the North Baker Research Library, California Historical Society.
City and County of San Francisco. Property Book, City Limits Summary. Available at San Francisco GSA.

No Comments by Evelyn Rose, CTO (Chief Tramping Officer) / August 12, 2012 / Posted in: Streets of San Francisco

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In search of San Francisco's forgotten histories

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