The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, March 4, 1906, Page 15

worth to save his creditors, disposed of &l his holdings, d take a 3 to the of a greatness slip over on Hill, where one of a doger sta lose t his presen is past Harrisor Becond streets and are est 1t can be done And whatever are your feelings on be- ng priceless panelings crowded close turniture, rand apids gsling banis- are ing hanges save - Sl any years the home was pstantial frame dwelling, it he early sixties by Joseph Wood- ose wealth from the Washoe nee put him in first rank among oneers of those feverish days, and followed Wood- aster and Mr. and followed fagter this home was sold to ernor Letham for the goodly sum of are possible in $50 the changes that settlement. his residence here was but three s 0l4, fire having destroyed the law he and Judge Heydenfeldt of Ala- pened on the plaza, he found strange town, facing unfa- tions wi.uout her friends or o4 by the persuasive eioquence of sters’ wage of sixteen dollars per he 1ald aside his ambition in the law ed himself to the labor of haul- e end grading the streets of wn which the propor- ers to business and profes- too small powers of oratory and und him out and politfeal owed each other rapidly until e time he was thirty-three he had office within the gift of wealth with ‘which he dev £ supp e growing was al ly after his insugura- r in 1880, he resigned to term of Senator Brod- »een killed by Justice Da~ the remembrance of rs of the dls- and although the Woodworth left politics far be- ker Latham, it vays spoken street re- s death in the fall s for remodel- cen and in became one of wroughout the West, another story added bowling the library ry opening out of it to- suth set & new standard for California. mirror paneled doors, eflings, mantels rich in exqui- and mural decorations art gallery combined to valed in this section of orne street did not then extend THE SAN FRANCISCO SUNDAY CALL.’ between the Latham gr. was on the sweep of grav to the stables in the rear, n lawn was improved and with urns and statuary after a ng with the house itself. So Latham married Miss ullen in 1870 there wads ready ney a home ideally suited ive entertaining that was inaugurated. were the center of a most aristo- le. ses occupled by the Popes and Ta stood—and still stand—a few do to the east on Folsom street, while on the hill itself was the home of many & family well known in the history, not of the West, but of the country as a lived General Sherman, General . Senator Gwin, Mayor Selby, A. of the “Old Oaken Bucket" son, Frederick Woodworth; Thomas Day, Rev. Dr. Scudder, Colonel s, Bret Harte; Mrs. Osborne, who terward became the wife of Robert Stevenson; Captain Folsom, for the street was named, and many, n others. One of the earliest houses on the hilltop was the brick residence of Charles Doane, grand marshal of the first Vigilance tee formed here, who was ter Y of S8an Francisco and organizer of City Guard, out of which grew cal militia. The Doane home, on Harrison street, is itained as the family residence, one of the few to set its face t the neighborhoed’s deterioration cross the street is the old Day home- where Frank J. Symmes, whose s Day, still resides, and a little farther along stands the Irving M. t house, in which Mr. Scott lived till he day of his death, but which is now ver to strangers. and few homes that show igle ownership. There are very few of the early familles but have f wed the tide of fashion which twenty- ears and moré ago set toward the rth of Market street as a favored ce of residence. he William Lept house, which was once upon a time sold by raffle and which was later the home of the Jerome Lin- colns, is still one of the attractive places on Harrison street, but nothing remains of the Garnett house, nor of the home of C Soule, well known as one of the steamboat captains on the Sacra- in the days of Stanford and Crock- while the Babcock house, on Bssex street, though not yet lost to sight, has fallen into general decay. The old-time residence of Attorney Ben- Ja: Brooks has been remodeled, as has the Bugbee home adjoining, which com- ds the slope of steep, quaint Haw- street, and so the list might be ued beyond the limits of this brief As there is In every desirable section a center from which both time and space are marked, so here. Vernon place, ofcupying a small portion of the highest part of the hill, was blessed not only in the wonderful view its eleva- tion offered, but in the exclusiveness pf its inhabitants. For not every one might buy a lot in Vernon place, and possession of what was to many the unattainable naturally increased the charm of owner- ship There was one approach from Second street through an archway inscribed “Bntrance to Vernon piace,” and another, less pretentious, through a bricked gate- way off Hawthorne street. After climbing the seventy-five steps the visitor was rewarded by a sight of hand- some homes ot a uniform standard of ele- gance, with grass and shrubs and trees to enhance the park-like charm and with a sense of peace and quiet very grateful to tired nerves. No doubt there was not wanting many & satisfied reference to that other “love- Hest village™ where— “Sweet was the sound when oft at even- ing's close Up yonder hill the village murmur rose.’” But when the village murmur became the roar of a city’s traffic, and when the extension of Second street cut through the historio hill*and brought that roar close enough to be distinet, not one but realized that the deathknell of Vernon place had been sounded. The Legislature authorized the street’s extension In 1868, and as soon 2s the work began many of the houses on the hill had to be torn down, while a little later yet others went a like way to prevent their tumbling into the street below. One by one the familles removed to the new “Nob HiIL" or some other sec- tion where the sound of the tide of commerce could be heard but faintly, and within a very few years the once lovely place was left desolate. Charles Warren Stoddard, returning’ from Europe iIn 1878, was much shocked at the change already made manifest, but for sentiment's sake he re-established himself in a vine-clad house which he named Swallow's Nest, and spent there many happy hours. There was then no entrance to the place save by the steep stairs from Hawthorne street, the same by which I climbed to the top a few days ago and which you must use when you take your little journey. There is now no sign to mark the entrance, for Vernon place has become a memory. The Stoddard house has disappeared, alonz with the home of Henry George that stood opposite, and there re- mains but a single empty structure as ‘tertained a great deaf, 7yt W iEncspniss AL Ty 5 Wi i W THE JOHN TAEEOTT ndlig o/ Ao & monument to departed habitations. While I looked up at its vacant, star- ing windows, and struggled agalinst the wind that threatened to relieve me of hat and breath at the same instant, I listened to a tale of the glory that was Rincon Hill and the grandeur that ‘weas Vernon place, told by one who for twenty years was caretaker of the Halleck properties. “The house stood there,” he sald, in- dicating a spot in midair above the iron foundry whose encroachments necessitated the second cut by which the residents suffered, “and they final- ly moved it over the edge of the hill J \\(1 s, 2 Ut THE FALLECK ~ ZITRTE. 2% next to the vacant corner lot, are still standing, and it was in the first one of them that Colonel Granniss lived while he was settling the estate. “Mayor Selby’s bouse on Harrison street is still used: you can see the back of it from here.” and we moved around to the side of the empty house, where we came close upon the sheds and rear porches of the rambling frame structure he had pointed out. ZATHAIT TIANI085 AITT TTOOD OFy ForSfors I e = <> - LIBTRARY I THE ZATHATL HOUTE < Maybe you would like to go through it7" he suggested. And as we walked through the long, high cellinged rooms, he told me of the old home’'s changing fortunes, saying it had arrived at desertion through the usual steps of dwelling, rooming-house and orphanage. The view from its upper windows Is wondertul. It commands the whols of the city’s waterfront and the stretch to “It 1s built on the rock that out-® the west where Twin Peaks are outlined crops all over this hill” he went on, “and is firm enough for foundation, but the walls are getting dilapidated, and as- for paint—why, most of the hou: against the sky, but the charm is gone when our eyes drop to the immediate surroundings. There is nothing to soften the evidence of neglect that has blighted and lowered it to Folsom street, where on Rincon Hill need paint and have for €ven the trees and vines. it was made into a stable for the Wells-Fargo Express teams. “Long before that, though, just after the general went to the war, it was occupled by Mrs. Leach, a great singer and sister of Mrs. Bret Harte. She en- 80 the house kept up its reputation for hospitality. “At the same time the house was moved, the carrlage house was changed into a dwelling, but they are both gone now, gone to make way for the new Wells-Fargo buifiding that you see. “General Halleck owned the land along Folsom street from Second to Third and 137 feet deep. A good many of the houses that were on it have been torn away for the foundry, the cracker company’s building and Wells-Fargo's, but those thrée on Hawthorne street, " tioned. vears, “The wing in which the fine bail- room was bullt burned out a long time ago, but there are elghteen rooms left, £0 I guess you wouldn't call the place & cottage, There's & great cistern for rain water cut Into the solld rock'and walled with cement, but they don't use it any more. “Senator Gwin lived In that hoifse for a time, but the old Gwin home stood a little farther east. It was torn down long ago.” “And this one house is all that Is left of Vernon place proper?” I ques- “Everything’s gone but this empty house—the Stiles mansion. It was one of four that were-just about alike, and they were very fine In thelr day. My guide was glad to recall the well- nigh forgotten people and the happenings that had affected them, and right willingly he gave his memory free vein. There were storles of the Eldridges, Livingstones, Donahues and Donohoes who kept the hill in the brave days of old, but I brought him back to what fis, in my opinion, the most interesting home of them.all, 2nd begged him for a tale of the “Governor’s Mansion,” £ He needed no urging and, seated on the step where the shallow doorway saved us from the wind's full force, I learned gomething ‘of the unwritten history, un- fathomed mystery Of the fascinating place. ! “Jt certainly seems as if fate follows in a mighty karsh way the owners of that house,” began the little, old gentlc- man, and a creaking vine rattled against FORIIER SOrIE OF ITAYoR SLLBY the window {n time to his remarks. “Woodworth, who built it when he was @ millionaire miner, had a lot of troubls and finally lost everything, so the place ‘was sold—to Governor Latham. “Mrs., Latham, the first Mrs, Latham, was afflicted with insanity and she died there within a few months from the time they took possession. “And then, when the Governor was some place in the Fast and his {riend Mr. Eastland had taken the house till he should return, why that family felt the curse. I mean, of course, if it was a curse. I don't know I belleve In such things, but some happenings are pretty hard to understand. ““Governor Latham owned a narrow gauge road across the bay, and one day Mr. Eastland went over there, with his little daughter, to ride over it. The car they were in left the track and toppled over, hurting the little girl so she dled and was buried from that house. “Then came the Latham failure. His money was lost as quickly as he had made it, and the house was bought by Senator Sharon, who gave it to his daughter, Mrs. Newlands. That was twenty-five years ago. Ome day Mrs. Newlands tripped and fell in coming down stairs and died soon after. “Don’t you think that is a long list? ‘Well, there is another item or two. “After the Newlands gave it up the house became an orphanage and a rich man Jeft the children ten thousand dol- lars, which should be paid on the death of his son. His son was & young man then and ‘everybody thought the orphans would all be grown up before they got the money, but in a very little while the young man wac drowned.” “And the orohans?” I inquired. ““Well, nothing ever happened to them. I guess they were so misfortunate al- ready no more bad luck could happen. But sce what'c happened to the house itself! “They've sold the Folsom-street lots it used to stand om to the electrical com- pany for théir big warehouse and have moved the house round op Hawthorne and set it right down on the sidewalk. “The lower floor, the part the Lathams built in when they bought the place, was taken out so it is really more like it was when the Wocdworths had it. No yard, and with the big porch takem away it doesn’t seem the same place. You can see those two big pillars at the emtrar they're just newly built in. They used to be on the porch and there were six or eight of them. I reckon they put those two there to save them.” I was loth to terminate the re the successes and failures of peo long ago ceased from troubiing, but the sun far down in the west warned that [ must burry if I were to pay another visit to the house that ‘in its time has played 50 many parts. So down the long flight of steps I went. emerging from the queer round tower of an entrance to the quiet, grass-grown street where there is little to jostle the dreamer into consclousness of the twen- tleth century. Life is now as it was then—surely, surely, and yet it seems far less dramatic. ‘The changes that come to )£ our own time seem less em to come less swiftly, but perhaps that is because the absence of perspective pre- vents our geeing clearly. Will those who shall come after notice in their looking backward that “like peaks of some s jut through oblivion's sea,” and w find in the gtorfes of our own to same appeal of the picturesque th for us in the records of the Before I could arrive rary decision, 1 reached t way of the Latham hous 5 through the shortened entrance way to the central hall. ‘What was once the dining-room —a long apartment finished it laurel with two bow windows down one long side and a handsome mantel carved by hands that must have loved their task—ig beautiful still though the gar- landed cuplds show but dimly from the ceiling and a few breaks in the walls are plainly the plaster’s concession to the strain of moving. The grand plano has stayed with the mansion through all the.years and its exquisitely polished case of el har- monizes well with the woodwork of the lofty room in whi r cutting away of the lower story destroyed the music room. But it is the library I most desired to see again, so after a glimpse at this long room on the right of the hall I.turned to the sliding door with its broken mirror panel. It 1s & splendid place—this library every detail of its appointment brought from lands across the sea. That, of itself. need not make for dis- tinction, for there are European atrocities of furnishing as fearsome as the native products, and many there be that seek them out with industry. But Governor Latham was not of these. The haircloth and black walnut that so effectively made home unattractive in that day held no place in his regard, and his house was a monumeént to the excels lence of hig taste. % ‘The proportions of the library are per- fect, while the woodwork, mahogany with ebony inlay, Is wrought Into bookcases, mantel and window seat that are modeis of dignity and grace. Of etched crystal {s the chandeller, with silt chains hanging from the ceiling, and this, with wall brackets of similar design, provides the thirty lights by which th Toom was wont to be made bright. These and the plate glass windows, engraved with floral borders and imaid floor, are now just as they were thirty-five years ago. The statuary, floor covering, table and ‘chairs are gone, and in their stead are substitutes that merely accentuate their absence, but for all that the room is beau- tiful and will be so long as it holds to- gether. ‘When you go down there and from tha window seat turn your eyes and your thoughts inward (no fancy is alchemist powerful enough to change the outlook from its sordid unloveliness) you will quickly be able to forget the untidy bed In one corner, the small coal oil lamp on a tremulous table, the chairs and odd pieces of furniture awaiting distribution to other rooms when the house shall be - really settled into its routine as a haven for the light housekeepar. The countless empty shelves hidden by sliding doors with thelr light silk linings will seer filled with the printed wisdom of all the saints and sages; the clock iIn the center of the mantel will be heard checking off the seconds, while the crazy Httle stove, making conuection with the firenlace by means of 2 bit of pipe, vam= ishes to admit a roaring five of driftwood I its Tlace. If it be late afterncon you will wateh the deepening shadows, as ! did, and note. how the blazing logs strive In vain to baaish the darkness from the far corners ot the pancled ceiling. Then, if $ou bave the wisdom to be tender of your illusions, you will quietly slip away, stopping not to look behind at the picture you have conjured. and all unconsclous of the shattered mirrors in the hallway as of the headless nymph of battered marble who waits beside the door.