It certainly is strange to see a vast city with such splendid streets and such princely homes, large mansions and pleasant Elizabethan villas--all apparently of beautiful white stone--and then learn that it is all wooden, and that the stone-like appearance is produced by a sprinkling of fine sand over whitish paint. This is not because there is any lack of stone for building purposes, but because the occasional slight earthquake shocks are a continual reminder that some day a great upheaval may come and swallow up--or at least severly shake--the huge young city.
There are boiling springs at no great distance from here, which forcibly suggest a connecting-link with the great volcanoes which lie to the north, and forbid too absolute security. But even in respect to moderate earthquakes, wooden houses are found to suffer less than stone buildings, and are therefore preferred.
Recently, however, some of the great firms, who dread fire more than earthquakes, have built their business houses of real stone. The first to set this example was Wells, Fargo, Co.'s Express (who undertake to convey everything for everybody, to and from every corner of the known world). But so expensive was labour in San Francisco, that this first stone house was imported bodily from China, where each block was cut and fitted ready for its place!
As a precaution against earthquakes, many of the principal buildings--hotels, warehouses, and shops--have an inner skeleton made of strong bands of wrought-iron, fastened together by immense iron bolts. Over this frame-work is built an outer casing of brick or stone, supposed to be fire-proof.
It is said that in building the Palace Hotel three thousand tons of iron were used in preparing the bands for the skeleton, besides the enormous amount required for the great iron columns which support the vast building. Of these there are upwards of sixty round the central quadrangle alone; and above this rise seven storeys, tier above tier, each with a similar number of columns. Of the amount of iron-work in other parts of the building, I can form no notion; but as the building covers about three acres, you can imagine it is considerable.
There is also a fire-proof iron staircase, cased in solid brick and stone, extending to the very summit of the hotel, and with iron doors opening on to each floor, so as to ensure a retreat in case of need. I can only say, "Heaven help all who have to trust to it!"
Of course there are all manner of other staircases, besides the five "elevators" which are ceaselessly ascending and descending to convey all the inhabitants of the 750 suites of rooms (1000 bedrooms) to their several apartments. These are graduated on a varying scale of luxury--"an apartment" generally including, at least, bedroom, bathroom, and sitting-room; and as every one of the 750 lodgers would feel aggrieved were he not provided with a bay-window, this and all the other great hotels are closely studded with these from top to bottom, presenting a very curious appearance externally.
Partly as a precaution against fire, the majority of dwelling-houses are built apart, each with a pleasant bit of shrubbery, so that you drive for miles through long avenues of fine detached houses, rather suggestive of the neighbourhood of a country town than of a huge busy city.
Of course in a town of which so large a portion is built of wood, the utmost importance attaches to the perfecting of every detail of fire-extinguishing organisation. The ever-present danger is sufficiently proven by the fact that no less than ninety-five insurance companies have found it worth their while to establish agencies in this city.
These companies are obliged by the State to support a fire-brigade of their own, to supplement the work of the city fire-brigade. It is called the Underwriters' Fire Patrol; and so perfect is the organisation of these corps, that they literally move by electricity, and at any hour of day or night they are warranted to start a fully equipped fire-engine within ten seconds of the time when the electric alarm sounds.
In a large proportion of the citizens' houses there are electric signals, by which the first outbreak of fire can instantly communicated to the centre of the district, whence the alarm is immediately transmitted to every fire-station--the same electric current being employed to set in motion a series of most ingenious mechanical contrivances, which awaken both officers and men, light the gas, open the doors, and adjust the harness.
At every station the engines, which are worked by steam, are always ready--fires kindled, water boiling--and the splendid horses stand ready harnessed in their stalls, the weight of the collar being supported by a rope attached to the ceiling. The electric stroke which sounds the alarm works a mechanism which drops the collars, detaches the halters, and brings down a stroke of a light whip--a signal which causes each well-trained horse instantly to spring to his appointed place to right or left of the pole. An instantaneous movement simultaneously attaches the pole-chains to the collar, fastens the reins, and slips in the bit, while the other portions of the harness are similarly fastened to the engine.
While this is going on down-stairs, the beds in the dormitory overhead are jerked up, so as to turn out the sleepers, who are literally thrown into their fire-dress, with boots attached. Up flashes the gas, and the doors are thrown open--all by the same electric current. Straight stairs lead from the dormitories to the engine-room, but even to rush down these would lose a second, so slides are fixed parallel with each, and down these the firemen glide, with a velocity which emulates that of the greased lightning which was so often commended to our attention in our younger days, when our seniors despatched us on troublesome errands.
In some of the great public buildings, such as the huge Palace Hotel, there are self-acting electric fire-alarms , which, without any human agency , call the attention of the central office to any unusual heat in any part of the house--so that a fire breaking out in a store-room or cupboard, actually gives notice of its own existence. Not content, however, with these electric warnings, the great hotels have watchmen always on patrol, whose duty it is to inspect every corner of the premises every half-hour, day and night.
The water-supply is also well attended to. For instance, the Palace Hotel has a huge reservoir beneath the central court, and seven great tanks on the roof. The former contains 630,000 gallons, the latter 130,000 gallons, and all are supplied by four artesian wells, capable of supplying 28,000 gallons per hour. This water-supply is carried to every corner of the huge building by means of about fifty upright four-inch pipes of wrought-iron, reaching from the basement to the roof. They are fed by three steam fire-pumps, and in their turn supply an endless extent of fire-hose.
So there certainly is no lack of precaution regarding this terrible source of danger; and as every district of the town, and indeed a vast number of private houses, are in telegraphic communication with the fire department, it is evident that little time need be lost. Indeed, what with telegraphs and telephones, the whole city is like one great room--distances are annihilated. The sky is veiled by a perfect network of wires connecting private dwellings with business offices. A lady has just shown me, on the wall beside her, a small instrument like a clock, the face of which is divided into sections, having reference to fire, hackney-carriage, private carriage, message-boys, c. c.; so that, by turning the magic needle to the point required, she can, without leaving her room, summon a carriage, an errand-boy, a fire-engine, or any other trifle she may require. She tells me that this is quite a common luxury. Surely the genii of the Arabian Nights have cast their mantle on California, and Aladdin's lantern is the common property of all her fortunate daughters!