Monkey Block San Francisco's Golden History
Retelling forgotten stories from San Francisco's golden past, 1776 - 1906, based on newspapers, books, and personal accounts, of the time. San Francisco enthusiasts, California gold rush fans, and garden variety history geeks can discover this boom and bust city, built on the discovery of gold. *I do my best to accurately reflect the facts, and sources, in my episodes.*
Monkey Block San Francisco's Golden History
S3 Ep2 La Plaza Yerba Buena 1835-1846
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I have found myself drawn to a specific piece of land that figuratively and literally became central to the Pueblo de Yerba Buena. Why was it left empty? And, considering it shows up on every Yerba Buena and early San Francisco map, why is it hard to find early information on it?
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Before starting today’s episode, I want to thank a dear listener, Marnie in Monterey, for becoming a monthly supporter of Monkey Block. And, you can too. Stick around to the end to hear of the benefits of becoming a monthly supporter.
Now, on with the episode…
I am fascinated with a time and a place that I never personally experienced and I have no familial tie to. After living here my entire life, it’s in the last three years I became compelled, really, to tell the story of the Pueblo de Yerba Buena.
When I learn something new about the pueblo, I like to walk the nine-block area to have a sense of the proximity to places and events as people lived them. How close was this structure to where that event happened, or this other structure? Where did that person live? I’ve done this walk several times, mostly by myself. Go figure. I’m a one-woman walking tour.
Nothing original of Yerba Buena is left, so, I walk the blocks accompanied with two maps, the wind, and the moisture from the foggy air. It all comes together and brings the story to life. It’s a sensory experience for me, especially when it’s empty, like in the morning, on a weekend.
I am particularly interested in the proximity of businesses and homes to the cove’s shoreline because it was (in my opinion) … Yerba Buena Cove and the semi-developed pueblo, established to support the hide and tallow trading, that ultimately put us on the map when the gold rush hit. There was already a ‘there’ when the world rushed in.
Every time I’ve done my solo walking tour, I have found myself drawn to a specific piece of land. I wish I could tell you why I’ve become intrigued by a specific piece of land that figuratively and literally became central to the Pueblo de Yerba Buena. Naturally, I had to look into it.
I tried a few times to research this piece of land that shows up on maps of Yerba Buena and San Francisco, even today. Yet it was hard to track down the earliest history of this land. Was it from Spanish or Mexican time? Why was it left empty? And, considering it shows up on every Yerba Buena and early San Francisco map, why is it hard to find early information on it?
It wasn’t a cemetery, it wasn’t privately owned, and it wasn’t captured in history in any meaningful way before 1846, and even then, not really until 1906. Yet, it existed before that. It was just an empty lot of land, that stayed empty for 11 years, located a little over 1,000 feet from the cove’s shoreline.
What was the significance of this land that made it stay empty? And, an even better question, of all the things I could wonder about, why this? Each time I've asked the San Francisco Library’s Archivist for information on this lot of land, I instantly remember… I have already asked him to help me track this down, each time, with very little success. And, then, I apologize for asking him the same question, again. He’s very nice. Very gracious and patient with me.
La Plaza Grande
Today’s episode is about La Plaza Grande, or La Plaza, as it appears on Yerba Buena maps. You know it, today, as Portsmouth Square.
Are you ready? Here we go.
La Plaza was located near current-day Washington Street on the north, Clay Street on the south, Walter Lum Place on the west, and Kearny on the east. Based on descriptions and drawings, this lot sat at the top of a sandy hill, overlooking the cove’s shoreline, which was then at current-day Montgomery and Clay Street. Imagine this view from this hilltop to the shoreline. You would be looking downhill over a vast landscape of windswept sand hills and sand dunes. About nine city blocks worth of sandy hills, to be exact. If you’ve visited Fort Funston, the Presidio, Ocean Beach or you have seen images of Golden Gate Park or the Sunset before they were developed, that was the area surrounding Yerba Buena Cove except it had a somewhat steep hill with all the sand.
The sand hills were up to ten feet tall and if the wind was strong enough, they could move overnight. That’s a sand hill for you. And, the sand dunes were covered in vegetation, shrubby chaparral and the yerba buena plant. That’s a sand dune for you. The notorious wind caused sandstorms, and the frigid damp air made you glad you wore extra clothing or wished you had. That’s actually still true about the wind.
The earliest mention of La Plaza, that I’m aware of, was in 1833, two years before the Pueblo de Yerba Buena was established. William Heath Davis Junior, in his memoir “Seventy-Five Years in California” states that before the founding of Yerba Buena, the District of San Francisco consisted of two villages, the Presidio and the Mission. Regarding his 1833 visit to the District of San Francisco he wrote that nothing, other than a small Irish potato crop could be found on what would become La Plaza in what would become the third village, the Pueblo de Yerba Buena. Said another way, in 1833 Davis noted there was no one lived in what would become Yerba Buena.
That potato farmer was Juana Briones’ brother-in-law, Juan Jose Candelario Miramontes, an officer at the Presidio. Why was an officer growing potatoes on this uninhabited land, of an area that was not yet a part of the District of San Francisco? Good question.
The San Francisco Planning Commission, in a 1994 report, wrote that the plaza was originally used as a gathering spot as early as 1833, yet William Heath Davis Junior said potatoes were growing there. Hold on to that.
This next semi-restrained rabbit hole is speculation on my part. In two years’ time, Juana Briones would herself grow vegetables, raise cattle and chickens, and practice herbal medicine a few blocks away from the potato farming. But, in 1833, they both lived at the Presidio.
It’s not impossible to think Miramontes was the one who cleared this land for his specific use, which was similar to what his sister-in-law would do, two years later. But, Juana moved to the area where she was farming. Miramontes didn’t. In 1846, when Davis created Yerba Buena’s first directory, Miramontes still lived at the Presidio with his wife and children. Interesting.
It would seem Miramontes paved the way for his sister-in-law to start her own farming business away from the Presidio and the Mission. I have an episode about Juana Briones if you want to learn more about this fascinating woman. Season 1 Episode 4.
But, I digress. Did the government grade, and clear, the land then forgot about it, allowing Miramontes to farm on the unused land? No one knows. But, for certain, Miramontes would either walk two hours from the Presidio to tend to his potatoes or ride his horse for one hour.
Either way, his 1833 potato farming didn’t go well.
Would it be bold of me to say I disagree with the San Francisco Planning Commission who said this was a gathering spot? I don’t believe the space was used for anything but potato farming. Why would someone farm on a gathering spot? They wouldn’t. Which is why I disagree with the San Francisco Planning Commission. And, gathering for what purpose? No one lived near there in 1833, nor were there any buildings. At that time, merchant trading was happening on the incoming ships, as floating stores. The boats would row out the anchored ships. See? This is what happens when you know more than you should about one specific topic. You go down crazy rabbit holes. In my opinion the San Francisco Planning Commission got their timeline wrong by two years.
The Californios considered the land around Yerba Buena Cove ‘undesirable’ and ‘unbuildable’, but a few foreigners realized the land up the sandy hill from the cove, had potential.
Despite the awful damp wind and the sandstorms, one Englishman, turned Mexican Citizen, saw that potential and worked with the Mexican government to officially develop this area. This man was already involved with the hide and tallow trade while living in Presidio as early as 1822. That English man turned Mexican citizen, was William Richardson. A man worthy of his own episode, at some point.
It took three tries, but in 1835, William Richardson received official permission to establish a pueblo near the Yerba Buena Cove, and was asked to draw a diseno. For quick reference, a diseno is not a map. It was a Spanish then Mexican document, that used natural landmarks to determine the boundaries for land grants. This mountain to this tree, to this hill, to this river. Not very precise. The Pueblo de Yerba Buena would become the third village in the already existing District of San Francisco. The Presidio, the Mission and now the Yerba Buena village. That was called the District of San Francisco in 1835.
Richardson was permitted to build his home wherever he wanted in his pueblo, as long as it was at least 200 varas/550 feet from the shoreline, which 200 varas would be between Montgomery and Kearny Street.
Richardson could have built on the already graded and cleared land, where dashed potato dreams were once planted. But, instead, he built just behind the cleared lot of land, 1,050 feet from the shoreline on current-day Grant Avenue near the corner of Clay Street. Richardson said he chose this spot because it was flat and had little vegetation…which is why potatoes were grown there.
On his diseno, Richardson indicated a Mexican flag, and therefore a flagpole, on the empty lot of land, in front of his house. That was strategic.
Based on Richardson’s decision to build the first house where he did, the pueblo’s development would mature around the empty lot of land that would be called ‘La Plaza’.
It makes sense that Richardson would build behind a flagpole placed at the top of a hill, so the country flag could be seen uphill from the cove’s shoreline. You know, a landmark for incoming ships who might have accidentally bypassed the Presidio to do unsanctioned trading? “So, Bob. At night, it has to be night, you want to come around the Presidio. Go through that water gateway, come around the turn, and look for a large cove with the Mexican flag at the top of a hill. That’s Yerba Buena Cove, where you want to land.” This is a made-up scenario, but a pretty good guess, if you ask me.
In the following year, 1836, Jacob Primer Leese built his home, right next to Richardson’s property, there, at the top of the sandy hill, overlooking the cove.
La Plaza remained a semi-graded square with nothing but a flagpole on it. In the rainy season, it was a large mud puddle. In the drier season, it was a sandy patch of land. That famous wind would toss around the sand, limiting the time people would spend there.
Speaking of Jacob Primer Leese, in 1836, the day after building his house, he celebrated his housewarming party by coupling it with Yerba Buena’s first 4th of July celebration while also advertising the merchant store he opened at his house. This would be the first store in Yerba Buena, located at current-day Grant Street. He’d be celebrating with a bang. Literally.
Richardson, his only neighbor, personally delivered 60 invitations to prominent Bay Area families and all the families seemed to have attended.
Long tables for eating and lots of tents for sleeping were set up. Californio fiestas were three days long. People came by boat, and horseback (not by wagon because there weren’t roads, yet, which tells you how undeveloped the entire District of San Francisco was in 1835).
The alcalde gave Leese permission to symbolically fly the American flag on the flagpole just for the day.
At 5 p.m., dinner, then fireworks, dancing, drinking, and enjoyment that went on until the early morning. The guests slept a few hours, woke up, and did it again on the second day and night. Do you know where this party took place? At La Plaza. The third day wrapped up with a quiet picnic on Rincon Hill.
Every year after that, the 4th of July was celebrated in La Plaza, and so was September 16th, Mexican Independence Day. La Plaza became the civic center of Yerba Buena.
Although the next year, 1837, Leese bought more land and moved closer to the shoreline, as did Nathan Spear, William Sturgis Hinkley, John Fuller, William Heath Davis Junior and others. The Pueblo continued to form around the untouched Plaza.
In 1838, Jean Jacque Vioget created Yerba Buena’s first survey and map introducing a grid formation to the pueblo. Apparently, it was hard to do without encroaching on people’s front yards, or actual homes. That’s why there is a slight 2.5 degree slant to the survey.
In 1839 Nathan Spear and William Sturgis Hinckley built California’s first grist mill on Clay at Kearny, just kiddy corner from La Plaza.
(Builders of a Great City San Francisco’s Representative Men, the City, it’s history and commerce)
In 1841, Vioget opened the west coast’s first tavern on the opposite corner of the grist mill, across from La Plaza. (Not even Monterey had a tavern?)
If La Plaza was the civic center, then Vioget’s tavern, Casa de Billar was city hall.
Vioget’s map hung on the wall of his tavern, where interested parties came to purchase a lot of land in Yerba Buena. The map would be taken off the wall, their name would be written on the lot of land they wished to purchase and money would be paid. And, the map went back up on the wall. For seven years, that’s how land was purchased in Yerba Buena. I guess this tavern was also the assessor’s office.
In 1844, a failed attempt at a custom house was built where Richardson’s house once stood, behind La Plaza.
For 11 years, La Plaza remained the pueblo’s civic center. Announcements were made and celebrations were held in La Plaza. La Plaza was the emergency meeting spot during the 1838 San Andreas earthquake and all the fires that happened, in addition to the independence days celebrations.
Since taxes weren’t collected as part of hide-and-tallow trading, funds for civic planning or improvements were nonexistent. La Plaza, except for the flagpole and the Mexican flag, remained an empty sandy lot, without planted trees, greenery, or benches. The space didn’t generate personal income for anyone so no one developed it, despite all the sold lots of land, from 1835 – 1846. The pueblo was created around it.
The United States would eventually develop the area, with a post office, an official city hall, our first public school, hotels, and theaters. But, La Plaza remained mostly as it was for many years.
Other notable La Plaza mentions:
In 1848, Sam Brannan’s discovery of gold announcement happened at La Plaza.
In 1849, La Plaza was renamed Portsmouth Plaza before formally being renamed Portsmouth Square at a later date.
During the great fire of 1851, people ran for safety in the plaza as they watched everything around them burn down. Unfortunately, the majority of the original Yerba Buena was destroyed in this fire.
On a darker note, from 1851 and up until the 1870s, several public hangings took place at La Plaza/ Portsmouth Square.
Portsmouth Square, Helen Purdy. https://www.jstor.org/stable/pdf/25613601.pdf
In closing
In 1906, after the earthquake and fire, the surrounding historic buildings were once again,mostly destroyed. But, not La Plaza/Portsmouth Square … The Plaza housed over 100 refugees from 1906 through 1907. Another occasion for tents in La Plaza, but this time it wasn’t to celebrate the 4th of July as Leese had done in 1836.
When the city was rebuilt, after the 1906 fire the square was formally rebuilt as a public square, as part of Chinatown. To the citizens of the time, twice now, its history had vanished from memory and view. Very few historic aspects of the plaza were left standing.
In the 1960s, San Francisco wanted to repurpose/rebuild the existing Portsmouth Square, formerly known as La Plaza. The idea was to turn it into a four-level, parking structure.
A few people fought to preserve the square as a [CO1] historic landmark based on its historic value and contribution to San Francisco history.
As almost nothing original of Mexican La Plaza, or early United States Portsmouth Plaza survived, it did not qualify for the National Register, California Register, or Local Register of historic places. So, 505 parking spaces won and that’s what you are walking on top of when you now visit Portsmouth Square.
At best, in 1985, Portsmouth Square was officially considered a part of the Chinatown Historic District and via that peripheral connection, it is considered historic, but for being part of Chinatown. Not for its historic value of 1835 - 1846.
A 1997 HUD study looked into Portsmouth Square and concluded that Portsmouth Square is a non-contributing site within the eligible historic district based on its lack of historic integrity. Damn those two fires!
Despite being intimately involved in the earliest Yerba Buena events and history, very little is known, because very little was captured, about La Plaza, pre-1846. But, even after 1846, this piece of land continued to be intimately connected to several important events. It seems that to everyone, even at the time, it was just some square of land that was regularly used and therefore left alone.
The only thing that would let you know Portsmouth Square held any importance are a few plaques that recognize the American period of the Plaza.
The one plaque that makes pause is the one that reads, “On this spot, the American flag was first raised by Commander John B. Montgomery of the U.S.S. Portsmouth. July 9, 1846.” Technically, this is the first official time the flag was raised, because the very first time was symbolically, in 1836 when it was La Plaza in the Pueblo de Yerba Buena.
I’ve walked by this square so many times and I’ve driven by it even more times. Something about this specific area has always drawn my attention. Without realizing it, the plaza holds the energy of memories past.
An indigenous proverb says, “Listen to the wind, it talks. Listen to the silence, it speaks. Listen to your heart, it knows.
Walking Tours
Here’s an idea I’ve been cooking up for a while. I’ve walked this nine-block area so many times. Recently, I’ve started giving casual tours to my friends who will humor me. Hold onto that thought.
My original reason for starting this podcast was to occupy my time during the second shelter-in-place and second reason to meet like-minded people who enjoy early San Francisco history. I have built a silent community of like-minded dear listeners. Silent because our communication is only one way, but I want to meet my listeners, and share what hasn’t made it into an episode. I want to do a few walking tours in the next few months. I mean, other than my dear listeners, who else would be interested in a walking tour about the earliest of San Francisco history?
After a lot of convincing from my friends, I will temporarily offer my Pueblo de Yerba Buena walking tour with my dear listeners, your friends and family. I want to bring Yerba Buena to life, retelling its forgotten history as best I can. Since this is not evergreen I should mention this is September, October, and November of 2023.
Girlina, that’s amazing. How can I go on your walking tour? There are two ways:
For just $5 a month, you can become a monthly contributing supporter, of your favorite early San Francisco history podcast, just like Marnie in Monterey. You get two free tickets to my walking tour, which assumes you are local or in the area visiting. Even if you are not local, there are other perks to being a monthly supporter.
Or, you can just buy tickets, if becoming a monthly supporter isn’t your thing.
Go to buymeacoffee.com/monkeyblocksf for dates and times. If you don’t see a time that works for you, reach out to me. We can discuss a date and time that works better for you.
What can you expect from my walking tour? A 1.2 mile walk around the majority of the original footprint of Yerba Buena, La Plaza, and the stories that literally surrounded it. Before the Barbary Coast, before the gold rush and before the United States.
Even if you’re a local, this is a seldom discussed view of very early San Francisco. The tour and my stories are chronological, so you get a sense of how Yerba Buena developed, and you get to stand in the location where the events happened. You can geographically see where buildings and events existed in relation to the shoreline and La Plaza because…the visual aids for the walking tour are Richardson’s 1835 diseno and Vioget’s 1838 - 1846 map as well as other visual aids.
With Halloween coming up, I also hope to do a Dark History tour of early San Francisco. Booo. You’ll have to check my buymeacoffe site to see if I add this. But, I probably will.
Please visit buymeacoffee.com/monkeyblocksf for tour dates and to become a monthly supporter, or just to buy walking tour tickets. And remember, I can possibly accommodate special requests, so email me directly at monkeyblocksf@gmail.com if you don’t see a date that works for you.
And, lastly, if walking tours or monthly support aren’t your thing, but you want to show your appreciation, you can make a one-time donation, at www.buymeacoffee.com/monkeyblocksf. If it’s on your mind, you should do it. I won’t be upset.
You can find me at facebook.com/MonkeyBlockSF, or twitter.com/monkeyblocksf, where I post photos and comments about upcoming episodes and other randomness.
I hope to meet you in person. Thank you for listening, this is Monkey Block. Retelling forgotten stories from San Francisco’s golden past.
[CO1]Add more detail.