strange reflections it stirred.
—Michael Doyle
Though today’s residents of the city view that area of the Mission as flat and uninteresting terrain, visitors to that same area in 1866 described a rugged and untamed portion of the city. Crags, mounds, hills, caves, depressions, bogs, and streams made up the base that Woodward carved to create his park. With an eye toward nature, Woodward’s Gardens included a conservatory overflowing with exotic trees, plants, and flowers. The sweet aroma, coupled with the warm humid air, created a sense of the tropics. The conservatory had one of the finest collections of ferns in the Western Hemisphere. A small lake hosted all forms of waterbirds at one end in a placid setting of water lilies and cattails. A water park complete with boats and chutes, a skiff ride down a fast moving flume, dominated the other side of the main park. A second lake hosted seals and sea lions, providing an opportunity to observe these animals in a natural setting. Streams and torrents wound through the entire garden area. A stroll in the Deer Park provided scenes that included small tame deer from China and Japan. Walking paths dotted with benches meandered through sculptured gardens and connected the various attractions. Ostriches and goats wandered loose on the grounds. A tunnel ran under Fourteenth Street to provide access to a zoo from the Gardens.
Camels were a novelty in 1880—to ride one was worth writing home about. —Photo courtesy of San Francisco History Center, San Francisco Public Library
Woodward’s boasted the most complete zoo on the West Coast. A grand enclosure contained the large herbivores such as camels, zebra, buffalo, deer, llama, and kangaroos. A long row of cages held various panthers (mountain lions), jaguars, foxes, and small animals both from North America and around the world. Aviaries housed birds from diverse corners of the globe. Bear pits contained grizzlies and black bears. Families clamored for the opportunity to view creatures they would never otherwise see. Walter J. Thompson, reporter for the Chronicle wrote:
Near by was the bear pit, into which ‘Fat’ Brown toppled one day to the consternation and positive embarrassment of the bears, who did not recover their nerve until ‘Fat’ was fished out with a long pole with hook attached. Across the way was the Happy Family, where, by standing too near the bars, Sister Susy lost her hat and back hair to a simian hoodlum of the family, the members of which showed anything but agreeable manners at feeding time.
Ad for Adams animal acts at Woodward’s Gardens. —Author’s collection
The zoo area also included an outdoor pavilion where acrobats from Japan and fire-eaters from Delhi performed for the crowds. Shows of every sort entertained the patrons, including bear wrestling, chariot races, comedy performances, Gilbert and Sullivan plays, and beauty contests thinly disguised as dance reviews. Walter Morosco’s Royal Russian Circus wowed the crowds with trapeze acts, acrobatic feats, and tumbling. Heavily painted and feathered Warm Springs Indians, victorious veterans of the Modoc War of 1872, provided examples of tribal dances and music that put fear into young and faint hearts.
Staged battles like the Celebrated Sword Contest between Duncan C. Ross and Sergeant Owen Davies in Woodward’s Gardens lent an air of excitement to the day. —Photo courtesy of San Francisco History Center, San Francisco Public Library
The aquarium opened in 1873, with sixteen tanks that held from three hundred to a thousand gallons of salt or fresh water apiece and, for the first time ever, fish and crustaceans survived in saltwater tanks over an extended period. Sea and freshwater fauna and flora were on display, fascinating all viewers. Illumination came from above the tanks lined up on both sides of a forty-foot hall. Animals normally hidden below the waves displayed themselves to the stares of those who had never seen them in their natural state. Crabs, lobsters, and other crustaceans were of particular interest, busily foraging, while making aggressive gestures at each other as they crossed paths. Trout flashed their colors as sport fishermen dreamed of the ultimate catch. Sharks, cod, and perch cruised around the tanks while flounders and rays disguised themselves in the sand. Octopi amazed the throngs with their fluid antics and intelligent eyes. A fish-hatching machine, an early version of a hatchery, created a sensation among park-goers. The aquarium reigned as the most popular exhibit.
Woodward’s old home near the entrance became the “Museum of Miscellanies.” Gigantic mastodon tusks some ten thousand years old framed the entrance. Mineral samples, fossils, and zoological specimens made up the collection. The mineral display included crystals, volcanic stones, precious and semiprecious gems, and at one point in time, the largest gold nugget ever found. Viewing the nugget cost twenty-five cents extra. Woodward originally paid $25,000 for the nugget that several years later yielded only $23,000 in twenty-dollar gold pieces when smelted and coined. Of course, he made up the difference in the viewing fees charged. The zoological specimens included taxidermy and skins of every sort of animal and bird, as well as fossilized wood, fish, and creatures described as serpents. A rotating panorama displayed stuffed animals in their natural settings. Mischievous children liked to sneak onto one of the panoramas as it rotated away, only to be displayed on that section’s next appearance posed with a tiger or bear.
A plush gallery housed Woodward’s art collection, a quiet, restful interlude from the excitement of the museum next door. San Francisco’s newfound appreciation for art made this a popular stopover. Culture follows money and the city’s newfound wealth demanded worldwide status as a center of art and genteel living.
Still, curiosity dominated culture and Woodward searched long and hard for curiosities. He presented Chang from China, an eight-foot-tall giant who paraded the grounds dressed as a mandarin. Patrons lined up beside Chang to compare their height. Woodward hired Admiral Dot, a twenty-five-inch midget said to be smaller than Tom Thumb, who claimed P. T. Barnum had offered him a salary of $12,000 a year to join his circus.
On January 19, 1873, twelve thousand people attended Woodward’s Gardens to witness the ascension of Gus Buislay and a small boy in a balloon. Hot air balloons drew large crowds after their successful use in the Civil War. In the corner by the carbarn stood a windmill that Buislay often bumped as he soared aloft, hanging on to his big hot-air balloon. Buislay’s brother Joseph died in a trapeze accident in the city the next year. The Buislays were a noted French family of gymnasts and trapeze artists who toured the U.S. and Mexico. Buislay descendants remain in Mexico.
Gus Buislay’s balloon often bumped the windmill when ascending. —Photo courtesy of San Francisco History Center, San Francisco Public History
General Ulysses S. Grant visited Woodward’s Gardens in September of 1879. The former president’s tour of the world neared completion and San Franciscans eagerly awaited his arrival from Japan. The wearing of top hats or “tiles” presented too dear an opportunity when he and others gathered for a speech in front of the bear enclosure. San Francisco’s rambunctious boys pelted them with large (and rather hard) bouquets of flowers tossed by practiced arms and soon all hats including Grant’s were in the bear pit. Not to be outdone, a “pretty buxom girl suddenly broke from the ranks, and, throwing her arms about his neck, made him the victim of an unconditional surrender to an osculatory caress, the smack of which could
