THE VANISHED RUIN ERA SAN FRANCISCO'S CLASSIC ARTISTRY OF RUIN DEPICTED IN PICTURE AND SONG BY LOUIS J. STELLMANN ilini!i!i:ii! i i mil 1 1 1 1 1 1 IIIB I I III I til l ; l I II HClil 1 1 1 I I |!|* PAUL ELDER AND COMPANY PUBLISHERS SAN FRANCISCO Copyright, 1910 by Paul Elder and Company San Francisco [iii] DEDICATION To you who faced with me the good and evfl Of that mad frenzy and the aftermath, Who stood, unshaken by the earth's upheaval, My comrade and my helper on Life's path. To you, who shared with me the stress and danger, Who watched, with me, our stricken city grow, To whom Hope was a brother, Fear a stranger, Needless to name you you and I will know. [v] CONTENTS 1906 The Phantom Hostelry . . . The Sentinel ....... Strawberry Hill Observatory . The Ravaged Temple \ A Portal of the Past I 1907 Twilight in the Refugee Camp The Old Hall of Justice . . . Page 2 4 6 8 10 12 14 16 18 20 22 24 26 In a Ruined Garden The City Hall Statue 1908 Page f ... 28 t ... 30 f . . .32 t . . .34 .... 36 .... 38 Vistas Through an Archway . 40 In a Classic Ruin 42 ( 4.4. The Old and the New \ ( . . 46 Nob Hill 48 J 50 1 1909 ILLUSTRATIONS " Like some ghost city rising from night " Frontispiece Facine 1 Looking North from Mission Street, Paee April 21 2 Looking East from Powell Street . 4 Ruin of Iroquois Apartments, O'Far- rell and Leavenworth Streets . 6 Lone Tree, Russian Hill .... 8 Strawberry Hill Observatory, Golden Gate Park 10 Temple Emanu-El, Sutter Street, near Stockton 12 Ruined Church in Italian Quarter . 14 Portal of Towne Mansion, California and Taylor Streets 16 Interior Towne Mansion .... 18 Market Street, East from Battery The Return 20 Refugees Ferry -bound on Market Street, April 19 22 Hamilton Square Refugee Camp at Dusk 24 Hall of Justice, facing Portsmouth Square 26 Facing Ruins of Garden at Leavenworth and Paee Post Streets ....... 28 Ruins of Nob Hill Garden ... 30 Dome of City Hall ...... 32 Statue of Liberty Broken in Wreck- ing of City Hall ...... 34 Digging Foundation of Olympic Club House ........ 36 Native Sons Monument, Market and Eddy Streets ...... 38 Archway of Entrance to Nob Hill Residence, California and Jones Streets ........ Interior of Grace Church, Stockton and California Streets .... Vista Through Brick Embrasure, Powell and Bush Streets ... California Street, East from Powell . Nob Hill from Jones, between Cali- fornia and Pine Streets ... City from Nob Hill Garden . . . View from Telegraph Hill . . . 40 42 44 46 48 50 52 [vii] PASSING OF THE MODERN ACROPOLIS LMOST like a dream is the memory-vision of that horror of flame and palpitating earth which came upon us, April 18, 1906. Traveler or resident in the reconstructed city, to-day, finds it difficult to imagine or recall the utter, awful devastation which then prevailed. Here and there, as one journeys through the town, one sees waste places, as though some ordi- nary fire had occurred. But, from the hills, where San Francisco may be viewed as a whole, one sees only great and teeming urban vistas, architecturally imposing and complete. Yet, to those upon whose minds the panorama of events in the four reconstructive years is ineffaceably impressed, there are memories beautiful as well as awesome. Among these are the pictures of that modern Acropolis which the Fire God created, that ephemeral and vanished ruin era which in its weird, flame-wrought transfor- mation, made things of beauty out of hovels; which carved shapes of classic dignity out of structural atrocities ; which lent a touch of magical, if spurious, age-refinement to the fire-ravished areas, akin to the decadent and time-hallowed grandeur of Athens and of Rome. It was a feature of San Francisco's recent history which few noted to the full extent and which fewer cherished or endeavored to perpetuate. Nor is this strange, for there was much of other work to do. Our pride, the nation's sympathetic interest and the business of the world demanded that our city be rebuilt without delay. And, how splendidly we responded to that call! It has been the marvel of all men, the inspiration of all cities since afflicted. Ere the three-days' storm of fire had subsided, San Francisco began its resurrection. While the flames were yet devouring one end of the city, the other end resounded with the hammer-blows of recon- structive workmen. To the thousands of sympathizers who sought to offer comfort, we turned a deaf ear. We were too busy planning for the new city to mourn for the old. [viii] Such was the spirit of our citizenship, which flame could not destroy ; such the secret of our phenomenal restoration. And, if in our passionate energy to recreate, we subordinated somewhat of our esthetic quality, surely that was to be called a virtue, not a fault. The past four years have been a time for workers. Nevertheless, I am very glad that some of us have striven to preserve this classic artistry of ruin which -was unique as it was beautiful. It was a part of our stirring reconstructive life and it deserves to be depicted. It mellowed the horror of our desolation; it softened the tenure of our grief. It uplifted the spirit and succored the mind in depression, like an oasis of inspiration in the weary desert of our travail. So I, for one, have endeavored to preserve it in picture and song. It has been a glad task and one which I believe to be worthy and not unimportant, for there are many to whom the spirit of it should appeal. They are not alone those who know these things by heart, who looked upon these wondrous architectural frag- ments first as gravestones of a cherished recollection, but later as impressive monuments of new hope. There will be many who have never seen our ruins or the city that was before, who will find a responsive note in these chronicles of a vanished era, rich in natural splendor, brief in tenure, but worthy of perpetuation for the sake of sentiment and art. LOUIS J. STELLMANN. THE VANISHED RUIN ERA [2] 1906 My city! alas, my city! I saw you, in anguish, slain; And all of the world is bitter With Memory's blighting pain. [4] 1906 (Continued) I wander, a soul in darkness; It seems that my heart has bled Afresh with each blackened ruin Where things that I love lie dead. [6] THE PHANTOM HOSTELRY Ghostly hostel, weirdly looming, Through the branches, bleak and bare, Spectral shadow-forms assuming: You are like a spirit glooming, Earth-bound in its grim despair! In your broken might despising Habitations fresh with life, All about you now uprising Proud Decadence, canonizing The Disaster's mortal strife! [8] THE SENTINEL A gaunt survivor of the horrid fray That raged about him, laying low his mates, The blackened oak, grim ghost of Yesterday, Stands sentry at the ravaged garden's gates. Here, once, caparisoned in royal might Of vernal robes, he cast benignant shade Upon a sward where it was his delight To shelter little children as they played. Now, stripped of splendor, blasted and deformed, He stands, still faithful to his former trust, Amid the shambles where the battle stormed; A stricken hero of the holocaust Ho] STRAWBERRY HILL OBSERVATORY Once it stood, a stately structure, On a lofty eminence, Looking down, in haughty grandeur On a vast and fair expanse. Loomed, at sunset, like a castle O'er some feudal lord's domain Pride of loyal knight and vassal In a medieval reign. But, as once came men and horses To assail a duke's redoubt, So came Nature's mighty forces, This high citadel to rout Shattered now and desolated, Lies the castle on the hill, Monument of passions sated, Regal in its ruin still [12] THE RAVAGED TEMPLE Where hundreds kneeled in worship to their God, Where swelled the organ's mighty, rhythmic pray*r And voices blent in chorused reverence, The stricken temple rears, like pleading arms, Its naked, fleshless towers to the sky, [14] THE RAVAGED TEMPLE (Continued) Unspared, for all its sanctity; unheard Its cry for mercy when the flaming sword Smote, right and left, impartial, laying low The house of worship and the den of shame. [16] A PORTAL OF THE PAST Like a phantom doorway, giving On the Hall of Memory, Stands the broken portal living Threshold of the Used-to-be. Naught but space beyond below it Debris of the mansion's fell At its side, pathetic, clinging Remnants of the shattered wall. [18] A PORTAL OF THE PAST (Continued) Gone the wealth of pomp and splendor, Treasures of the brush and loom; Artistry of smith and builder. Mingled in their ashen doom. [20] 1907 From out of your wreck, appalling, Uprising in strength, anew, I hear you, my city, calling Your favored ones back to you. [22] 1907 (Continued) And many that left you stricken, Dividing throughout the land, Will hear and their steps will quicken, Ah, gladly, at your command. I [24] TWILIGHT IN THE REFUGEE CAMP Softly, mystic 'lly appealing, Comes the twilight shadow, stealing O'er the camp of refugees; Like a sombre veil, obscuring All of Day's activities, Weary men to slumber luring, In gray mezzo-tints immuring Silhouetted huts and trees. [26] THE OLD HALL OF JUSTICE "Where once was a clamor of voices, Loud warring in bitter debate, Where once sat the stern, silent judges, Dispensing the wrong-doer's fate; Where slow, sullen footfalls resounded, As prisoners, heavy with gloom, Passed through the grim Gates of Confinement And into the presage of doom There stands now a tottering ruin, Decrepit and old and forlorn; Hard-smitten by Nature's upheaval, Its power and majesty shorn. But wholesome and purged of its vices Refined by the flame in its fall It seems like a penitent, ghostly: This shell of the old Justice Hall. [28] IN A RUINED GARDEN Memories of vanished splendor 'Round the ruined garden cling: Of a maid, divinely tender, Watching o'er each growing thing; Of a youth who gazed, enchanted, Leaning on the fountain's bowl, Guessing not the gard'ner planted . Seeds of love within his soul; While a gray-haired couple, smiling From a vine-clad porch, near-by, Watched their aged minds beguiling With the thoughts that never die; Dreamed of childhood that had vanished, Dreamed of children to be born. Ah! the gladness that was banished On a flaming April morn! [30] IN A RUINED GARDEN (Continued) Desolate the garden, scattered Now the ones who used to roam In its bowers withered, shattered, Regal bloom and stately home. # * * * * Yet, 'tis said, when Day has ended And good folk are all abed, Phantom footsteps oft are wended To some ruined flower-bed. Lovers tryst, their voices blending With the fountain's plash once more; Stricken bloom uprises, lending Scent and beauty as of yore. [32] THE CITY HALL STATUE Am I to fall and crumble into dust, My fragments trampled underfoot, unknown? I, who have stood for years in pride and trust Of power, regnant, on my eyrie throne? Through days uncounted, I have watched, serene, The puerile, human throng pass, far below. Silent, in mock importance I have seen The rulers of our city come and go. The honest and the criminal have dwelt And wrought their destinies beneath my feet; Have legislated wisely and have smelt, Like hungry curs, the Tempter's carrion meat Here stood I, calm, undaunted, while the Earth Shook, in its palsy, like a withered hand Here I have watched the city's sure rebirth From Nature's fury and the fire's brand. [34] THE CITY HALL STATUE (Continued) Ah, gruesome jest of Fate! that I have foiled God's mighty elements, to end my span Of life a vandal's prey to be despoiled Of being by the hand of puny Man! [36] 1908 I hear the ring of the hammers,- A rhythm of lusty might To chorus a Song of Progress, Unceasing by day or night [38] 1908 (Continued) I see you, my city, growing To grandeur before unknown; I feel that a splendid future Wfll soon for the past atone. [40] VISTAS THROUGH AN ARCHWAY Framed by the broken archway's classic lines, One sees delightful vistas that should tempt An artist. Every hour brings a change. First comes the dawn, with faint, vague multichrome Of grayish yellows that reveal a place Of domes and turrets, silhouetted, dim, Like some ghost city, rising from the night. And then the robust morn comes forth to bathe All in its hues of vital rose, to ride On, like a herald for the royal day And chase the ling 'ring shadows from their nooks. All this one sees, as if a picture, hung In some gigantic gallery, endowed With magic to reflect the Nature-mood Of every hour through the broken arch. Through it one might have seen the city grow From ashes to the new metropolis A stirring panorama of Man's power And zeal and dominance o'er wreck and blight. Through it, at night, one sees the gleaming stars, High overhead, while, far below, the town Winks back, defiant, at the Universe. With many thousand lesser lights that shine And blend, like an inverted Milky Way. Carved by the Flame God from a mansion's fronts The archway gives no longer on a hall Where liveried servants answered to the ring Of many guests. It frames a larger scene; Gives men a nobler outlook than of yore And typifies an era, nearly closed, When San Francisco, rising, in her might, From stress and ruin, garbed herself afresh And showed the world a newer, fairer face, Framed in the memory of her late despair. [42] IN A CLASSIC RUIN Rome boasts of its sanctified ruins, Time-hallowed and grand in decay. The age-smitten temples of Athens Cry out of a long-vanished day. They stand, in their gray desolation, For ages historic and grim; For passions that sundered the nation, And lusts that Time only can dim. But, here, in our busy metropolis Rebuilding as soon as it fell The splendor of modern Acropolis Was but an ephemeral spell. Ah, era of tragical beauty That came with the Fire-Demon's sway! You served but to show men their duty. Your tenure was just for a day. Yet, though you were part of a story Of emprises quickly regained, I grieve that your mystical glory Could not, for a time, have remained. [44] THE OLD AND THE NEW As a garden, Winter-stricken, Hears the clarion call of Spring, Does a blasted city quicken, As a vital, new-born thing With the flower of Man's vigor, Rearing to the shrine of Trade Temples nobler, finer, bigger Than the Fire-god has unmade. [46] THE OLD AND THE NEW (Continued) Like a sturdy sapling, growing From a trunk the woodsman slew,- Devastation overthrowing: Thus the city's Old and New. [48] NOB HILL Here, in power, dwelt the nabobs On their structure-jewelled hilltop, Looking down upon the valley, As the evening shadows crept, Phantom-like, upon the city; Watched the lights leap out in battle; Saw the urban constellation Keeping guard while Mammon slept Here the Demon of Destruction Fought its way, relentless, climbing Steep declivities to conquer Splendid mansions in its lust, While aristocrats descended, Fleeing with their humbler brothers, Saw their costly habitations Fall and crumble into dust. But the routed are retrieving. Once again, the Hill of Nabobs Is returning to the glory Of its former pomp and might Stately structures are arising, Swiftly, from the sodden ashes, Architectural phalanxes Scattering all trace of blight [50] 1909 And, now, in the new metrop'lis My city I see, once more In all of the old, glad spirit That lived in the Time Before. . [52] 1909 (Continued) Again, in my heart is comfort; Again, in my soul is rest No more do I wander, homeless,- Oh, City-I-Love-the-Best! 14 DAY USE RETURN TO DESK FROM WHICH BORROWED | LOAN DEPT. RENEWALS ONLY TEL. NO. 642-3405 This book is due on the last date stamped below, or on the date to which renewed. Renewed books are subject to immediate recall. RECTD LD MAR General Library University of Californi Berkeley LD2lA-60m-6,'69 (J9096slO)476-A-32 5111 52 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY