thirsty flames. Nothing less than a river of water could have quenched them. But the saddest sight of all was the destruction of brave but bewildered men, who, finding themselves suddenly surrounded by fire, rushed, staggering and uncertain, from flame to flame, in hopeless efforts to escape, until strangled and scorched, they withered and fell in full view of thousands who were entirely powerless to save them. Others, after battling the remorseless demon inside of what they considered fire-proofs, finding their efforts to save the buildings vain, endeavored to escape, but too late. The doors and window blinds were red hot, and in some instances could not be opened, and the last chance of safety failed. The sensations excited by gazing upon the blackened remains of poor humanity, as they burned amid the coals in the cellars, the next day after the fire, still beyond the reach of all who viewed them, are indescribable, and such as none could desire to experience for the second time.

People could not speak their thoughts. Feeling predominated over thought. Within eighteen months, they had seen the finest part of the city sink away four times before the destroying angel, leaving only ashes behind. But with all the experience which they had given, the people were not prepared for the fifth terrific visitation which laid the city once more in the dust. The grandeur of the scene was beyond belief. Descriptions by the pen would be but dark lines, and the painter has not found the colors, nor the light and shade which could do it justice. The result, when a few hours had passed, was before all eyes, except those which the dreadful devastation had burned into silence for ever, amid the cinders, rubbish and smouldering heaps of broken walls. The dead alone were blind to the desolation which reigned where joyousness had so lately run riot. A few hours before, the moon and stars had looked down from their tranquil heaven upon beautiful edifices and thronging men, upon gorgeous saloons and hopeful occupants, brilliantly illuminated resorts of bright faces and happy hearts. Now, the wreaths of smoke rising upwards from cinders and dust, told wealth had turned to rubbish, and hope to ashes. It was a terrible blow upon the city. Its progress seemed stopped, its prosperity paralyzed. The destruction had been greater than that of all the previous fires combined.

Immense amounts of goods were destroyed, and many anticipated that for years the effects would be painfully apparent. But even then there were those who thought differently, and they were of the majority. One thus expressed the general sentiment the day after the fire: "So great is our confidence in the natural location and advantages of this place, and in the recuperating energies of our fellow citizens, that we do not for a moment hesitate to say that San Francisco will rise again and occupy the position which nature evidently intended her to fill and adorn. Our recovery will not be as rapid as heretofore, perhaps, but it will be. Of this fact, neither our own citizens nor our friends abroad need doubt. There is hope enough, energy enough, determination enough among us to do it. California possesses in her resources the inherent ability, and San Francisco has in her position, that which, aided by the labor and indomitable perseverance of the American people, will bring her out of even this last and most crippling misfortune. It will take time and energy, bold hearts and willing hands, hopefulness and patience to do it, but it will be done." The spirit which could exist and speak thus after twenty squares of a city which was not two years old were but a mass of smoking ruins, and those squares constituting nearly all the settled portion of the city, was equal to any contingency. And it proved itself so, and fully substantiated the confidence and expression of the writer.

As a complete calamity there was scarcely a parallel. There had probably never been another so entire a destruction of a city since the burning of Moscow. More than three quarters of it had been blotted out. The destruction of property, the loss of life, the suffering, the privation, the ruin-complete a picture of so much misery as makes the heart ache to think of it. The loss could scarcely be exaggerated. One had to speak of millions. It was the greatest by far of any which had visited the city, and it was the more disheartening because of its following so closely upon the track of the others. Almost the entire city had been the product of Californian industry. Very little foreign capital had been employed in erecting the buildings and improving the streets. It was the result of labor performed in one shape or another within the country itself. And it was a painful and

Longitude 104 West from 102 Greenwich

100

98

GENERAL MAP

Showing the Countries Explored & Surveyed

BY THE

NITED STATES & MEXICAN

BOUNDARY COMMISSION

IN THE YEARS 1850, 51, 52 & 53.
Under the direction of

disheartening circumstance to have all this blotted out in a sin

gle night.

Diagram of the burnt district, May 4th, 1851.

The rewards of such patient industry, of such active enterprise, of such unremitting toil, had been accumulated within the short space of three years. San Francisco had been the world's wonder. There is no similar instance, perhaps, in the history of civilized society where so much had been accomplished, in so short a space of time. But the same causes which existed in the beginning were existent still. There were the same rich and exhaustless mines, and the same trade which had made San Francisco, in consequence of the gold, what she had been. So when the people reflected that human labor had done all this in three years, they were not cast down, but, like the apostle, thanked God, and took courage. It required even a greater calamity to defeat the progress of the city. It postponed, but did not prevent her commercial importance.

Her citizens met the disaster like men. The first shock naturally seemed to paralyze and drive them almost to despair. But when they reflected upon the causes which had made them, and remembered that they still existed, they resolved, and at once, to meet the calamity with fortitude, and to remedy it.