usiness districts and in most of the region
south of Market street were laid. When the earthquake came, the
filled-in ground shook like the jelly it is. The only firm and rigid
material in its millions of cubic yards of surface area and depth were
the iron pipes. Naturally they broke, as they would not bend, and San
Francisco's water system was therefore instantly disabled, with the
result that the fire became complete master of the situation and raged
uncontrolled for three days and nights.

Although the earthquake wrecked the business and residential portions
of the city alike, on the hills the land did not sink. All "made ground"
sank in consequence of the quaking, but on the high ground the upper
parts of the buildings were about the only portions of the structures
wrecked. Most of the damage on the hills was done by falling chimneys.
On Montgomery Street, half a block from the main office of the Western
Union Company, the middle of the street was cracked and blown up, but
during the shocks which struck the Western Union building only the
top stories were cracked. Similar phenomena were experienced in other
localities, and the bulk of the disaster, so far as the earthquake was
concerned, was confined to the low-lying region above described.

THE BANE OF THE EARTHQUAKE.

From the origin of San Francisco the earthquake has been its bane.
During the past fifty years fully 250 shocks have been recorded, while
all California has been subject to them. But frequency rather than
violence of shocks has been the characteristic of the seismic history of
the State, there having been few shocks that caused serious damage, and
none since 1872 that led to loss of life.

There was a violent shock in 1856, when the city was only a mining town
of small frame buildings. Several shanties were overthrown and a few
persons killed by falling walls and chimneys. There was a severe shock
also in 1865, in which many buildings were shattered. Next in violence
was the shock of 1872, which cracked the walls of some of the public
buildings and caused a panic. There was no great loss of life. In April,
1898, just before midnight, there was a lively shakeup which caused
the tall buildings to shake like the snapping of a whip and drove the
tourists out of the hotels into the streets in their nightclothes. Three
or four old houses fell, and the Benicia Navy Yard, which is on made
ground across the bay, was damaged to the extent of about $100,