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Rbbd, Printer aiiJ SMreotyper, U SpruceatrMt, N. Y. PREFACE. ^f^^WVN'VNAA^ In sending oat the following sheets, the Author has done what a year ago was as far removed from the path of his intentions, as (he theatre of the incidents related is from the fireside at which they were written. But who can estimate the force of circumstances in s^haping his destiny 1 I wrote my Travels in the Great Western Prairies, Ac, with little belief that they would excite any attention beyond the circle in which persional friendship would in some sense link the reader with the events narrated. I did not comprehend the extensive interest felt in journey- ings over the wild and barren realms of uncultivated Nature. I did not suppose that the dim outline which words could give of the snow* clad peak, the desert vale, and the trials and dangers which crowd about the pilgrim on the Western Deserts and Mountains, could be made sufficiently distinct to convey even a satisfactory shadow of their sublimt^, fearful nature. But tht very unexpected favor with which that work has been received, has led me to concluue that such matters, related as far as they may be at all, with fidelity, are valued as useful knowledge. Indeed, we may learn mnch from the pulseless solitudes —from the desert untrodden by the foot of living thing — from the frozen world of mountains, whose chasms and cliflis never echoed to aught, but the thunder-tempests girding their frozen peaks — from old Nature, piled, rocky, bladeless, toneless — if we will allow its lessons of awe to reach the mind, and impress it with the fresh and holy images which they were made to inspire. The work now presented is another attempt of the same kind. Il differs from the previous one, however, ir many particulars. The Great South Sea, the Hawaian Islands, and the Californias are iis **' .< 377 1 I IV PREFACE tlicmc. Upppr and Lower Ciiliforiiia, tlicir cniuiMost l)y the SpaniaHs, Indians, wliito iiihabituutH, their presont state, surfucc, vegetation, dtrraui::!, plains, niomitains, volcunocx, animals — ail tlieue us they have bern, and now are, will be fonnd fully described. To whul I liavo sera has been added authentic information from every known aonrce. And now, dear reader, to your task. Mine is done. Should you laugh and weep, sufTer and rejoice, with tho actors in the wayfarings before you, and send your fancy in after-limes over those roso-ulad trcalms whore they will lead you, and feci the dcw.s of a pleasant romenibrance fulling on your life, I shall receive a full reward for my toil. Adieu, THE AUTHOR. PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION. The editor of this new Pictorial Edition of Farnam's " Adventures," has added a History of the Conquest of California, from ofRcial documents and other authentic materials. He has also added a nummary account of the most recent and celebrated " Travels in Oregon," including a descrip- tion of that new and important addition to our national domain. He has also added fifty-three pages of embeliibhnicuts appropriate to the several subjects treated in the volume. The reader will perceive that, thus augmented, the work contains much that is important and interesting to all who feel deairons to watun the on- ward march of the Great Republic- I ■.'^ CHAPTER ;. A Reminiscence— A Spectacle— Oregon— Landward and Seaward— Tlie Great South Sea— Magic Palace— Taking in Studding-sails— Caverns- Storm in Full Blast— Professor of Psalmody— Pur Hunter— A British Tar- An Author— A Seaboat— A Corkscrew— A Flagon— A Conversa- Uon about Liie in the Northwest— Its Dogs— Logs— Food— Surface- Lords of the North— Frozen Mountains—Moss— Flowers— Potatoes, Oats and Barley— Indian Wives and Sheep— The Arctic Shore— Suicide of a Brave Man— A Solo— Eel Pond— Ghost in the Shrouds— Tumult in Upper and Lower Ocean— Minor Key— War-cry— Special Pleading— The Sea — Wine and Song— To Bed. In a work entitled "Travels in the Great Western Prairies," &c., to which the following pages are a sequel, I left my readers off the mouth of Columbia river, in sight of the green coast of Oregon. Lower Oregon ! A verdant belt of wild loveliness !— A great park of flowering shrubs, of forest pines, and clear streams ! The old unchanged home of the Indian ; where he has hunted the moose and deer ; drawn the trout from the lake, and danced, sung, loved, and war- red away a thousand generations. I cannot desire for my- self any^remembrances of the Past which shall bring me more genuine wealth of pleasurable emotions than those which came to me from that fourth sunset of December, 1840, when I was leaning over the bulwarks of the ship Vancouver, looking back on Oregon, and yeaward over the great Pacific! A spectacle of true grandeur ! The cones of eternal snow w!;!c!i clot Ihe green Iieiglits of the President's range of mountnins, rose on the dark outline of the distant land, and SCENES IN THE PACIPIC. hung glittering on the sky, like islands of precious stones ; so brightly did they shine in the setting sun, and so com- pletely did the soft clouds around their bases seem to sepa- rate them from the world below ! The shores of Lower Oregon ! They rise so boldly from the sea ! Themselves mountains sparsely clad with lofty pines, spruce and cedar trees, nodding over the deep ! And then the ground under water ! No flats, no mud- banks there. The cliffs are piled up from the bottom of the ocean ! The old Pacific, with his dark depths, lies within one hundred yards of them ! And the surges that run in from the fury of the tempests, roll with unbroken force to the towering rocks, and breaking with all their momentum at once, making the land tremble, and send far seaward a mighty chorus to the shouting storm ! The Pacific ! the Great South Sea ! It was heaving at our bows ! steadily, wave on wave came and went and follow ing each other in ceaseless march pressed onward ; like the world's hosts in marshalled files, they hastened past us, as if intent to reach the solid shores, where some resistance would broach their hidden strength and pour their fury out ! Behold, the sea ! Its troubled wastes are bending and top- pling with a wild, plashing, friendly sound ; a deep, blue, uncertain vastness ; itself cold and passive ; but under the lash of the tempest, full of terrific life ! Our ship stood staunch upon the palpitating mass, and seemed to love it. Mizen and mizen-top, main and main-top, fore and fore- topsails, and the lower weather studding-sails were out. The breeze from the land which had carried us over the bar still held, every thread of canvass drew, every cord was tight, and as we looked up through the rigging to the sky, the sails, cordage and masts swayed under the clouds like the roofing of some magic palace of olden tales. All hands were on deck ; both watches sat about the windlass; while the second officer and mate looked at the horizon over the weather-bow, and pointed out a line of clouds crowding ominously up the % Hu TRAVELS IN THE CALIP0RNIA8. * Hi- i, ■*.,■■ \ i southwestern sky. The captain stood upon the companion- way, looking at the barometer. In a little time officers and passengers gathered in a knot on the larboard-quarter. " I ken there's a storm comin' up frae the soo'est," said the Scotch mate. ^. '* The clouds loom fast, sir, in that quarter," said Mr. Newell, the American second-mate. " I reckon it will be lipon us soon." Captain Duncan needed no information in regard to the weWher on these shores. He was everywhere an accomplish- ed i^aman. On the quarter-deck — with his quadrant—on the sWrs — and at the halyards ; but especially in that pro- phetic, knowledge of the weather, which gives the sons of Neptuie their control over the elements, he had no superiors. ** TaVe in the studding-sails and make all fast on deck,*' is the order, issued with quietness and obeyed with alacrity. Water cisks, long-boat, and caboose are lashed, ropes coiled upVind hung on the pins in the bulwarks, and the hatches pU down in storm rig. The wind before which we were running abated, and the horizon along the line of departing lijht began to lift a rough undulating edge. " Take in the mainsail !" " Go aloft and take a reef in the maintop !" " In with the fore-main, and let the trysail run !" followed each other in haste, as the sailors moved to the cheering music of their songs in the work of preparing the ship to wrestle with a southwester. Everything being made snug, we vailed its coraing. The rough water which appeared a mere Speck when the wind came upon tlie circle of vision, had widened till its ex- treme points lay over the bows. On it came, widening and elevating itself more and more ! The billows had previously been smooth, or at least ruffled sufficient only to give their gently heaving sides a furzy aspect, while the tops occasional- ly rose in transparent combs, which immediately crumbled by their own weight into foam down their leeward acclivities. But now a stronger spirit had laid his arm on these ocean Ki«: \ 8 B (; K N li S IN T II K PACIFIC. I coursers. The wind catnu on, btcadily increasing ils might from inoineiit to moment ! At first it tore the tops of the w.ives into mgged linos, then rent the whole surface into frag- ments of every conceivable form, which rose, appeared and vanished, with the rapidity of thought, dancing like sprites among tne lurid moving caverns of the sea ! A struggling vastness ! constantly broken by the flail of the tempest, an.1 as often reunited, to be cleft still farther by a redoubled blast. The darkness thickened as the storm increased ; and wAen the lanthorn was lighted in the binnacle, and the nght- watch set, the captain and passengers went below to their wine and anecdotes. Our company consisted of four per- sons. One was a singing-master from Connecticut, Texas, New Orleans, .md St. Louis. He was such an apimal as one would wish to find if hn were nmking up a hunan me- nagerie ; so positive was he of step, so lofty in the neck, and dignified in the absurd blunders wherewith he pernetu- ally corrected the opinions and assertions of others. Another was a Mr. Simpson, a young Scotchman of re- spectable family, a clerk in the service of the Hudson's Bay Company. This was a fine fellow, twcnty-f ve years of age, full of energy and good feeling, well-infonned on gene- ral topics, and like most other British subjects abroad, troubled with an irrepressible anxiety at the growing power of the States, and an overwhelming loyalty toward the mother-country and its Sovereign skirts. The other per- sonages were the commander, Duncan, and the author. The Captain was an old British tar, with a heart full of generosity for his friends, and a fist full of bones for his ene- mies. A glass of cheer with a messmate, and a rope's end for a disobedient sailor, were with him impromptu produc- tions, for which he had capacity and judgment ; a hearty, five foot nine inch, burly, stout-chested Englishman, whom it was always pleasant to see and hear. This little company gathered around the cabin table, and all as one hstened a moment to the beatings of the tempest. m ^,?';.^. T K A V K I. rt IN r II E C A L 1 F R N I A S . 9 ^: A surge — another — and u third still heavier, beat upon the noble ship and sent a thrill through every timber. On they rolled, and dashed, and groaned. But her iron heart only seemed to gather strength from the conflict, and inspire us with a feeling of perfect safety. '* A fine seii-l)oat is the Vancouver, gentlemen," said Cap- tain Duncan, " she rides the storm like a petrel :" and with this comfortable assurance we seated '^ urselvcs at the table. I had nearly forgotten Tom, the cabin-boy ; a mere mouse of a lad ; who knew the rock of a ship and the turn of a corkscrew as well as any one ; and as he was spry, had a short name, a quick ear, and bore the keys to the sideboard and some things elsewhere, all well-bred stomachs would noi fail to blast my quill. If I omitted to write his name and draw his portrait. Well, Tom was one of those sons of old England, who are born to the inheritance of poverty, and a brave heart for the seas. Like many thousand children of the Fatherland, when the soil refused him bread, he was apprenticed for the term of seven years to seamanship. And there he was, an English sailor-boy, submitting to the most rigorous discipline, serving the first part of his time in learning to keep his cabin in order, and wait at the table, that when, as he was taught to expect, he should have a ship of his own, he might know how to be served like a gentleman. This part of his appren- ticeship he performed admirably. And when he shall leave the cork-screw and the locker for the quarter-deck, I doubt not he will scream at a storm, and utter his commands with suf- ficient imperiousness to entitle him to have a Tom of his own. " Tom," said Captain Duncan, " bring out a flagon of Jia- maica, and set on the glasses, lad. This stoim, gentlem n, calls for cheers. When Neptune labors at this pace, he loves his dram. Fill gentlemen, to absent wives." This compliment to the sacred ascendency of the domestic affec- tions was timely given. The storm howled hideously for our lives, our families were far distant over seas and moun- 10 SCEWES IN THE PACIFIC. tains, the heart was pressed with sadness : v;e drank in silence and with swimming eyes. A pleasant conversation followed this toast, in which each one of our little band exhibited himself in his own way. The Captain was a hearty old Saxon, who had in- herited from a thousand generations, a love for home, its hearth and blazing evening fire, its old oaken table, its fami- ly arm-chair, and the wife who presided over that temple of holy affections. In him, therefore, we had the genuine spirit of those good old times when man used his physical and mental powers, to build about his heart the structures of posi- tive happiness, instead of the artificial semblances of these, which fashion and affectation draw around the modern home. Our professor of psalmody was the opposite of this. He had, when the red blood of youth warmed his heart, in the ways of honest nature, spoken sweet things to a lovely girl, won her affections, promised marriage, and as his beard grew became a gentleman ; that is, jilted her. He, therefore, was fond of freedom, could not be confined to so plain and quiet a business as the love of one woman, and the care of a family of children. *' It was quite horrid, indeed it was, for a man who had any music in his soul ; the mere idea was concen- trated picra to his moral stomach ; the thought, bah ! that a gentleman could ever think of being a daddy, and trotting on his paternal knee a semi-yearling baby." Mr. Simpson was from the braes of Scotland. For many years he had lived an isolated and roving life, among the nows, morasses, and lakes of the wilderness, which lies west and north-west of Hudson's Bay. He had been taught his catechism at kirk, and also a proper respect for the ties of the domestic sentiments. But the peculiar idea of manliness which grows up in those winter realms of danger, privation, and loneliness, had gradually habituated him to speak of these relations as desirable mainly when the body had ex- pended its energy in striding mountains, in descending rocky J TRAVELS IN THE CALfFORNIAS. 11 torrents with boats laden with furs, and in the other bold enterprises of these daring traders. From him we obtained a description of some portions of that vast country occupied by the Hudson's Bay Company ; and some information on other topics connected with it. Life in the Company's service was briefly descrilied. Their travelling is performed in various ways at different seasons of the year and in different latitudes. In Oregon their journeys are chiefly made in Mackinaw boats and Indian canoes. With these they ascend and descend the various streams, bear- ing their cargoes, and often their boats, from the head- waters of one to those of another. In this manner they pass up the Cowelitz and descend the Chihilis with their furs and other goods ; thus do they reach the head-waters of the northern fork of the Columbia, pass over the Rocky Mountains, and run down the rivers and lakes to Canada. Farther north on the east side of the Rocky Mountain range, they travel much on foot in summer, and in winter (which is there the greatest part of the year) on sledges drawn by dogs. Ten or twelve of these animals are attached to a light sledge, in which the vMXt sits wrapped in furs and surrounded by meat for his car- nivorous steeds and provisions for himself. Thus rigged, the traoAi starts on the hard snow crust, and make eighty or one hundred miles before the dogs tire. When the time for rest comes, they are unharnessed, fed, tied to the bushes or shrubs, and the traveller enveloped in furs, addresses himself to sleep under the lea of a snow-bank or precipitous rock. When na- ture is recruited the train is again harnessed and put on route. The Aurora Borealis, which flames over the skies of those latitudes, illuminates the country so well, that the absence of the sun during the winter months offers no obstacles to these journeyings. Drawn by dogs over mountain and plain, under heavens filled with electric crackling light, the travel- ler feels that his situation harmonizes well with the sublime desolation of that wintry zone. In this manner these ad- MM ■ : 12 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. venturous men travel from the mouth of Mackenzie's river to York on Hudson's Bay and to Canada. Their dwellings are usually constructed of logs in the form of our frontier cabins. They are generally surrounded by pickets, and in other respects arranged so as to resist any attack which the neighboring savages may make upon them. They are usually manned by an officer of the Company and a few Canadian Frenchmen. In these rude castles, rising in the midst of the frozen north, live the active and fearless gentlemen of the Hudson Bay Company. The frosts of the poles can neither freeze the blood nor the energy of men who spring from the little Island of Britain. The torrid, the temperate, and the frozen zones alike hear the language and acknowledge the power of that wonderful race. The food of these traders is as rude as their mode of life. At most of the Forts they live almost exclusively on the white and other kinds of fish ; no vegetables of any description are obtainable ; an occasional deer or woods buffalo or musk ox is procured ; but seldom is their fare changed from the produce of the lakes and streams. At a few of their stations not even these can be had ; and the company is obliged to supply them viith pemican. This is buffalo meat dried, finely pulverized, mixed with fat and service berries, and secured in leathern sacks. They transport this from latitudes forty-eight and nine to different places on Mackenzie's river, and other parts of the extreme north. Wild fowls, geese and ducks afford another means of subsistence. At York and other posts in the neighborhood of lakes, large numbers of these fowl are taken in the summer season, and salted for winter use. But with all their painstaking, these gentlemen live but poorly ; on a diet of flesh alone, and that of an indifferent quality. Hardy men are these lords of the snow. Their realm em- braces one-ninth of the earth. This immense territory Mr. Simpson informed us has a great variety of surface. On the north-eastern portion lie extensive tracts of per- petually frozen mountains, cut by narrow valleys filled with =rr-g^J TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIA 8. 13 lallen difls, among which dash and roar numerows rivers on their way to the frozen sea. Scarcely any timber or other vegetation grows in these wastes. A lonely evergreen or a stunted white birch takes root here and (here^ and dur- ing the few weeks of summer, mosses and linchens pre- sent a few verdant spots in the damp recesses of the rocks. But cold winds, laden with hail and sleet, howl over the budding of every green thing ! The flowers can scarcely show their petals and set their seeds, before winter with its cracking ices and falling snow embraces thera ! The section of country which lies about Mackensie's river, differs from that described, in having dense forests skirting portions of the va'i.'eys, and large plains of moss and linchen, on which feed the deer, buffalo, musk-ox and moose. The river itself is, in summer months, navigable for batteaux several hundred miles. It is well stored with trout, salmon, white aftd other fish. But the winters there also scarcely end, before they begin again their work of freezing land, str< am, and sea. The extensive country lying on the head waters of the streams which run northward into the Frozen Ocean, east- ward into Hudson's Bay, and southward into the Canadian waters, is composed of swamps, broken at intervals with piles of boulders and minor mountains, and dotted with clumps of bushes, plots of hassocks, and fields of wild rice. The waters of these ta'jK' lands form many lakes and lofty cascades on the way to their several destinations. The roar of these on the dreadful frozen barrenness around, Mr. Simpson represented to be avvful in the extreme ; so wild, hoarse, and ringing are their echoes. We are informed that there are considerable tracts of arable land on the western sidt; of Hudson's Bay, occupied by several settlements of Scotch : that these people culti- vate nothing but potatoes, oats, barley, and some few garden vegetables ; and are altogether in a very undesirable con- dition. He also informed us of a tract of tillable land) 14 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC, lying some hundreds of miles northeast of Lake Superior, on which Lord Selkirk had founded a colony ; that this settlement contains about three thousand people, composed chiefly of gentlemen and servants, who have retired from the Company's service with their Indian wives and half- breed children. They cultivate considerable tracts of land, have cattle and horses, schools and churches, a Catholic Bishop and a Protestant preacher of the English Church. Some years since a Mr. McLeod, from this settlement, went to Indiana and purchased a very large drove of sheep for its use. But in driving them a thousand miles over the prairies, their fleeces became so matted with poisonous burrs, that most of them died before reaching their place of destination. Mr. Simpson related a few incidents of an exploring ex- pedition, which the Company had despatched to the northern coast of America. The unsatisfactory results of those fitted out by the home goverraent, under Parry, Franklin, Ross, and Back, which had been partially furnished witi, men and means by the Company, led il at length to undertake one alone. To this end it despatched, in 1S38, one of its officers, accompanied by our friend Simpson's brother, well furnished with men, instruments, and provisions on this hazardous en- terprise. I have since been informed, that this Mr. Simpson was a man of great energy and talent — the one indeed on whom the Company relied for the success of the undertaking. From his brother I learned only that the unexplored part of the coast was surveyed, that the waters of Davis' Strait were found to flow with a strong current westward, and enter the Pacific through Behring's Strait ; and that Greenland conse- quently is an island or continent by itself ! The Mr. Simpson of this expedition is now known to the civilized world to have trodden the ices and snows, and breathed the frozen air oi that horrid shore ; and by so doing to have added these great facts to the catalogue of human knowledge ; and having be- come deranged in consequence of his incredible sufferings, to have blown out his own brains on the field of his glorious <■ ,i'i »' 1 TRAVEL* IN THE CALIF0RNIA8. 15 deeds. Our companion, poor fellow, was happily ignorant of that sad event, and spoke of the expedition only as one of great hardship, yet such as he would have gladly shared. His brave kinsman was then dead ! When Mr. Simpson paused in these interesting narrations, our professor of psahnody, who had been beating the table with a tuning-fork, opened a solo upon Texas. He had been in that country, and was, in his own estimation, as familiar with its rivers, plains, forests and destiny, as with the paths across his father's sheep pasture. Galveston was a London in embryo : Sam Houston had inherited the knee-buckles and shoe-knots of Washington's patriotism : the whole country was an Eden in which he had obtained the best site for a grist-mill and the finest pond for eels! In short, we were informed in a tone of self-consequence, at least an octave above mi, on any known scale of conceit, that himself And a brace of fellow blades, on hearing that the government had offered a bounty of land to emigrants, went thither, remained long enough to perfect their title to a share of the public do- main, and were then obliged by pressing business to return to the States and leave others to fight and die for freedom. He had a belief that the Californias would make a respec- table abode for man, if it were conquered by a bold arm, a little music, and made into a Republic by a man, he did not mention his own name, whose character for bravery, intelli- gence and taste for the fine arts, he did not say psalmody, would draw around him the unemployed intellect and cou- rage of the States. In conclusion he modestly remarked, thai he himself was destined to the Californias, but did not say that he intended to open there a revolutionary singing-school. While this conversation was going on, the good old ship was struggling with the tempest. She headed north- westerly, and as the storm and swells came from the south- west, she at one time lay in the trough of the sea, and then, as the wave bore down upon her, swayed to the leeward a moment, rocked upon its summit, and as the surge passed liHii aBM « 16 S C E N i; S I >• THE PACIFIC, on, reeled to the windward and slid into the trough again. This is the bitterest motion of a ship at sea, whether he whom it staggers be a " land lubber" or " salt." The lat- ter finds it difficult to take his watch walk from the wind- lass to the fore-stays, and swears that such a lullaby is as un- worthy of the ocean god as it is unseemly for a decent sailor, to stand, at one instant with one leg clewed up and the other out, and the next clewed the other way, and be com- pelled, at each change, to brace himself back in the attitude of being frightened to death by a ghost in the shrouds. The landsman, may perhaps feel too much awe to swear at the great deep, employed in its sublime labors ; or if he dare profane thus the majesty of his Maker's movements, his noble self is usually the object of so much solicitude as to deny him any adequate opportunity of doing so. His stomach will demand much of the attention which he would fain bestow upon other objects ; and it will scarcely be re- fused what it requires. We sal at the table till eight bells. A delightful chit-chat we had ; such a variety of wisdom, such splendor of reminiscence, such bolts of reason rending and laying bare all the mines of thought were there ! But this and all that we had in expectancy that night ended not in smoke ; that would have been land-like ; but in a stealthy withdrawal of our company, one at a time, to pay their tribute to Padre Neptune. The singing master struck minor key first ; the fur hunter followed with his war-cry ; the Green Mountain lawyer came to the encoun« ter with a throat full of special pleading ; and after a hot melee each surrendered, on such terms as he could procure, all claim to the inborn rights of a quiet stomach and clean nose ; and turned in. The night was passed by us in the cabin in clinging to our berths. The seamen on deck struck the bells, changed the watch, and stood out like iron men on the tide of that terrible tempest ! Their thrilling " he oe" occasionally cut sharply and cheeringly into the TRAVELS IN THE C A L I F U N I A S. 17 hoarse cadences of the storm ! Every other sound of liv- ing thing was buried in the clangor of tlie elements. The next morning opened with gloomy grandeur. The clouds brightened by the first rays of tlie sun in detached spots only, appearing and disappearing in rapid succession, mtimated that the whole mass of aerial fluid was fleeing at a fearful pace before the unabated tempest. As the light in- creased into full day, the canopy hung so dark and densely down the heavens, that night appeared to have retained the half of its dominion. It need not touch the water as fogs do ; but the massive heavy Ibid left between itself and the surface of the ocean, a space apparently three hundred yards in depth. That was a sight to wonder at. I could conceive of nothing in nature so far beyond the power of words to portray. Does the simile of a boundless tomb, vaulted with mourning crape, shaken by fierce winds, half lighted, filled with death-screams, represent it ? I cannot tell : but such an idea rose as I looked out upon the scene. Old Ocean, too, was in a glorious mood. I had often seen the Atlantic lay with his mighty bosom heaving to the sky, calm and peaceful like a benevolent giant slumber- ing on a world of lesser things ; or, to use no figure, I had seen it slightly agitated, every particle tremulous under a soft breeze, every drop sending back the sunshine, or mul- tiplying indefinitely the stars of a clear June night. I had seen it when the swells were torn by a " dry squall," or an hour's "blow," and heard its icebergs crack and plunge ; and seen its fearful waterspouts marching so near me that I could hear their awful roar ! But I had not seen it raised and rent, in the height of its tumult and power. All this was now before me in the great Pacific. At ten o'clock the storm had gained its utmost strength. The ship was laid to. The waves were dashing over her bulwarks. The Captain was standing braced upon the weather quarter, dressed in a long pea-jacket, stout sea- pants and boots, an oil- cloth cap covering head and shoul- ;l I r I ' 18 8CENKS IN THE PACIFIC ders. The watch on duty were huddled under the weather bow and lashed to the stays to prevent being washed over board. The second mate stood midship, holding fast to the rigging. All were looking at the storra. The ship herself lay like a lost water bird, rising, falling, buried and mount- ing again, among the overwhelming waves. The appearance of the sea ! — Who can describe it 7 Like the land, it had its valleys, and mountains, and streams. But its vales, instead of flowers and grasses, were covered with wisps of torn water ; the mountains in- stead of snowy peaks, were billows, crested with combs of light blue water, tipped with foam, perpetually tumbling down and forming again, as the floods rushed on, lashing one another. And the streams were not such as flow through meadows and woodlands among creeping flower vines; but swift eddies, whirling through the heaving caverns of the sea. Its voice ! Its loud bass notes ! — What is like it ? Not the voice of the storms which assemble with lightning, thunder and wind, and pour devastating hail and fire on the upper heights and vales of the Rocky Mountains. Nor is it like the deep monitory groan that booms down the Great Prairie Wilderness at midnight, growing louder as it draws near, until the accumulated electricity ignites in one awful explosion, rending the clouds and tearing up the shaken ground ! Nor is it like the voice of Niagara. That great cataract of the earth has a majestic stave, a bold sound, as it leaps from the poised brink to the whirl- ing depths below ! And when the ancient woods, with all their leafy canopies and ringing crags, stood up around it, and neither the hammer of the smith, nor other din of cul- tivated life, cast its vexing discords among the echoes, the sounds of Niagara must have resembled this sublime duett of the sea and storm ; but never equalled it ! It was a single note of nature's lofty hymns. To the ear of the Indian who stood upon the shelving rocks and heard it; i::ir:;:xnri I S I ■^'i > T R A V i: {, .'■J 1 N ( A 1. t F K N I A 9 10 vir'ho saw the Hoods come coursing dovvn the rapids, bend upon the brink, and plunge with ciuickencd speed into the vexed caldron, sending their peals to the rainbowed hea- ven, they must have borne an anthem as grand as his wild mind could compass — greater even. His bow must have dropped, and himself and the unharmed deer stood to- gether, in mute wonder at Niagara chanting to the shades and silence of the old American Wilderness ! But the song of the sea ! Is it not more than this ? Miles in depth ; hundreds of leagues in breadth ; an immensity drop on drop and mass on mass in motion ! The tempest piles up the surface into lofty ridges, every inch of which emits a peculiar liquid sound, which, muigling sweetly with each other far and wide, pulsates through the surrounding air and water ! Sweet and boundless melodies of the seas ! Ve know that the incumbent air takes up a part of them, while another part goes down into the still and motionless depths below ; the sublime unbroken darkness of the sea ! It was unpleasant to feel that the screaming cordage of our ships and the quarrelling of the hull and the waves, should deprive us of hearing the tones of the Pacific waters, during the strength of a hurricane, unmarred by any other sound. Can it ever be given man to hear it ? It is the Creator's great choir ! Ocean tuned by His own hand, and swept by the fingers of His tempest ! Our good ship, carrying barely sail enough to make her obey the helm, beat from the southeast to the north- west. On the outward tack we generally made a few miles on our course, a part of which we lost on the other. It was vexatious to be buffetted thus to no purpose ; to have our stomachs in a tumult; our Jaws grinding down our teeth instead of eating ; but withal it was very amusing. I had always thought men in a tolerable state of misery, pos- sessed increased capacities to render themselves ridiculous. A number of common-place things proved this idea to be true. Turning-in was one of these. This is a process of 9B B3BM ili ill 20 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. going to-bed ; extraordinary in nothing else than the novel manner in Avhich it is performed at sea in a gale. The reader will pardon me. Please step into the cabin of the Vancouver, and be seated by the nice little grate, filled with blazing coals from the mines of Paget's Sound. You will perhaps amuse one eye with Tam O'Shanter, while with the other you explore. The six foot lawyer is gathering toward his berth. It is the lower one on the lar- board side of the cabin. His countenance, you will ob- serve, is in a miniature tempest. The ship rolls suddenly, his feet slip from under him, and he slides under the table accompanied by a bag of apples, a scuttle of coal, Tom the cabin-boy, and a hot poker! Coal, apples, and the law strown in indiscriminate confusion ! As one might ex- pect the lawyer extricates himself from his difficulty, enters a " nolle prosequV^ against further proceedings in that direc- tion, and stretches himself in his berth, without attempting to persuade his wardrobe to take separate lodgings. The fur-trader seems determined to ur dress. Accord- ingly, when the ship, in her rollings, is nearly right side up, he attempts to take off his coat ; unfortunately, how- ever, when he has thrown it so far back as to ccniine his arms, the ship lurches heavily, and piles him up in a cor- ner of the cabin ! Odds-blood ! how his Scotch under-jaw smites the upper ! It appcai s that wrath usually fights its battles in that part of mortality to a greater or less extent. On this occasion our friend's teeth seem to have been ignited and his eyes set blazing by the concussion ! As, however, there is nothing in particular to fight but the sea, and Xer« xes has used up the glory of that warfare, the fur-dealei takes to his berth, withjut further demonstration of him- self than to say that he thinks '< the devil's tail is whisking in the storm," and that " his oxfoot majesty and the fin- tailed god must be quarrelling stoutly about the naiads." But the professor of psalmody is not to be prevented by these failures from unrobing himself for the embraces of TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIA 8. 21 Mi I Somnus ; not he. " And if the planks of the ship will float me long enough it shall be done." He does not say that he is on his way to the conquest of the Californias ; and that he will strip himself of his blue roundabout, as he will that beautiful country of its ill-fitting tyranny. His berth 's on the starboard side. The ship is pitching and dodging like a spent top. How his bravery will end under such circumstances is a question of no little interest. But that something will soon be done you perceive becomes evident ; for now as the starboard side lowers on the retreating wave, he seizes his outer garment with both hands, and with a whistle and jump that would do credit to a steam-car off the track, wrenches himself out of it just in time to seize the edge of his berth as the next surge strikes the ship and throws it suddenly on the other side. His vest comes off with more ease and less danger. Boots, too, are drawn without accident. But the pants! they are tight! He loosens the buttons ; slides them down ; with one hand he holds fast to the berth ; pulls off the left leg with the other, and is about extricating the right foot, but, alas ! that sud- den jerk of the ship scatters his half-clad person, bravery, pants and all, among the trembling trunks, stools, table- legs, &c., to the manifest detriment of the outer bark of his limbs ! At this moment Mr. Simpson is in the midst of his favorite passage — " Ah Tam, ah Tam, thou 'It get thy fairin', In hell they '11 roast thee like a herin'." The professor of psalmody, after some search, finds him- self again, and with courage unimpeached, lies down in silence. ill lili CHAPTER II. The next Morning— Eating — Mermaids— Cupid— A Sack of Bones on its Legs— Lore — A Qrandsire— She was a Woman— Chickens— A Black Son o' the De'il— A Crack o' the Claymore— Sublimity— Tropical Sight —Paternal Star— Cook— A Sense— Edge of the Trades— A Night— " On Deck" — A Guess— A Look and Doubt — To be Dumb/oundered — A Bird Note — Mouna-Kea — Christmas Eve — Watch-Fires of Angels — Birds — Pish — Homestead — Hawaiians — The Land — Moratai — Mooring —Landing at Honolulu— A Slice of Bull— Poi— The Death Wail- Hospitality — The Lover and his Destination — The Fur Hum r on the Back Track — The Professor of Psalmody. The next morning the storm was unabated. The furies seemed abroad. It was a cold sleety day. Both the at- mosphere and the ocean looked like maniacs. Not a shred of the visible world seemed at ease with itself ! Commo- tion, perpetual growls, screams and groans, came up from the tempestuous deep ! Above were clouds, hurrying as from a falling world ! Below was the ocean shaking ! Eating on this day was attended to in a very slight degree. When the dinner bell rang we were all on deck, standing in utter abandonment, to whatever the Fates might have in re- serve for us. Not one would have broken a Christmas wish- bone with the prettiest girl living, to decide whether we should go below or be tumbled overboard. Captain Duncan was a skilful diagnostician in all such cases. He urged us below. But the thought of bringing our nasal organs into the full odor of bilge water, the steam of smoking meat, po- tatoes, and bean soup, arrested our steps. The good Cap- tain, however, pressed us with renewed kindness, and we dragged ourselves down to the table. Ye Mermaids, how could ye ever learn to eat at sea ! How could ye, rocked to f '■•« UMW»'.dt«»*Jn«t->ifC«i^.Ab-.^>.^^,.'.^- - ,1 ■! 1 I ■i I f TRAVELS IN THE C A L 1 F U N I A S . 23 W ,1 .■•'I't {) in infancy by the billows, educated in the school of ilio tempest, learn to hold your heads still enough to comb your glistening tresses ! and much more get food within your pearly grinders ! Pictures of woe were we, starving, yet loathing food ; thirsting, yet unable to drink ; wishing for a mote of the stable world to look upon, yet having nothing but the un- stable water and air ; imprisoned on the rolling deck, with no foothold, or any odor of flower or earth around. I am reminded here how interesting to the antiquarian would be the inquiry, whether or not Cupid was ever at sea in a storm. If he were, he would have crowned Hogarth's im- mortality with its richest wreath, if transferred to canvass, in the act of running from the dinner-table, throwing his quiver behind him, and tipping his roguish face, bloated with the effort of a retching stomach, over the taffrail. Poor fellow, it makes one quiver to think if there ever were a Cupid, and he ever took passage from the Columbia river to the Hawaiian islands, and ever did attempt to eat, and while doing so were obliged to conform to the etiquette of sea sickness, how sadly he must have suffered, and how unlovely the arrow-god must have become ! This sea-sickness, however, is a farce of some conse- quence. Like the toothache, fever and ague, and other kin- dred follies of the body it has its origin in the faculty will please answer what. But seriously. It is an effort of our na- ture to assimilate its physical condition to the desires of the mind. Man's natural home as an animal is on land. As an in- tellectual being he seeks to pass this bound, and resorting to his capacity to press the powers of external nature into the service of his desires, he spikes planks to timbers, commits himself to the waves, rocks on their crests, habituates head and foot to new duties, and, girded with the armor of his im- mortal part, that wealth of Heaven, goes forth, the image and representative of his Maker, to see, to know, and to enjoy all things. But a truce to philosophy. We are on the sea. The ■f i'l t . ■I iH \\ i 24 BCENKS IN TIi; PACIFIC. elements have raved twelve days and are at rest ti^ain. Quiet and variable breezes from the north pvdh us pleasantly along ; appetites return ; we shave our chins, comb our hair, anil begin once more to wear the general aspect of men. On the nineteenth of December our group of characters was honored by the appearance of a fine honest fellow from the steerage. He had sulVered so much from sea-sickness,, that he appeared a mere sack of bones. He was a native of one of the Southern States; but the Yankee spirit must have been born in him : for he had been to the Californias with a chest of carpenter's tools, in search of wealth ! Un- fortunate man ! He had built the Commandante-General a house, and never was paid for it ; fcr^ had built other houses with like consequences to his purse ; had made many thousands of red cedar shingles for large prices and no pay ; and last and worst of all, had made love, for two years, to a Spanish brunette, obtained her plighted faith for marriage, and did not marry her. It was no fault of his. During the last years of his wooing, a Californian Cava- liero, that is, a pair of mustachios on horseback, had been in the habit of eating a social dish of fried beans occasionally with the father of the girl, and by way of reciprocating his hospitality, he advanced the old gentlemen to the dignity of a grandsire. This want of fidelity in his betrothed wrought sad havoc m ourcountryraan's affections. He had looked with confiding tenderness on her person, returned her smile, and given her one by one his soul's best emotions. Such affections, when they go forth and are lost, leave a void to which they never re- turn. He was alone again without trust, with nothing on earth or rather, on the sea, to love but his carpenter's tools. The object of his regard had disgraced herself and him. To avoid the scene of his misery, he had invested in horses the little money he had accumulated ; accompanied the Hudson's Bay Trading Company to Oregon, and having cultivated land a a year or two in the valley of the Willamette, had sold his TRAVELS IN THE i; A I, I F R N I A 8 , 25 stock and property, and shipped for home, with every tooth strung with curses against the Californian Spaniards. California itself, not including the bodies or souls of the people, he thought to bo a desirable country. The very at- mosphere was so delicious that the people went half-naked to enjoy it. Hard to abandon was that air, and the great plains and mountains covered with horses, black Spanish cattle, and wild game. The fried beans, too, the mussels of the shores, iind the fleas even, were all objects of pleasure, utility or industry, of which he entertained a vivid recollec- tion. But that loved one ! she was beautiful, she was kind, alas ! too kind. He loved her, she was wayward ; but was still the unworthy keeper of his heart ; still a golden re- membrance on the wastes of the past — lovely, but corroded and defiled. His opinion was that she was a woman ! The weather became sensibly milder each day as we moved on our course ; the water warmer, the fish and fowl more abundant. The latter presented themselves in considerable variety. The white and grey albatross, with their long nar- row wings, and hoarse unmusical cry, cut through the air like uneasy spirits, searching the surrounding void for a place of rest, and finding none ! Our cook contracted a paternal re- gard for these birds ; the basi^ of which was, that whenever he threw overboard the refuse of the table, they alighted in the wake of the ship, and ate the potatoe peelings, bits of meat, &c., with a keen appetite. " Ah," said he of the spit, " it is a pleasure to cook for gentlemen in feathers even, when they eat as if they loved it." But he was still more partial to Mother Carey's chickens. In a fair morning these beautiful birds sat on the quiet sea in flocks of thou- sands, billing and froUicking in great apparent happiness. " There's your poultry, gentlemen," cried his curly pate, peering from the galley. " Handsome flocks these about the stacks of water ; plumper and fatter, I'll warrant ye, than any that ever squawked from the back of a Yorkshire Donkey. No need of cramming there to keep life agoin'. — •■«« k WntM-vlUiKt.! 1 1 ■I if 26 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC, They finds themselves and never dies with pip or dys- pepsy." " Hout wi' yer blaguard pratin', ye black son of the De'il ; and mind ye's no burn the broo' agen. Ye're speerin' at yer ugly nose, an' ne'er ken the eend o' ye whilk is upward. Ye sonsie villain ; when I'se need o' yer clatter I'se fetch ye wi' a rope's-end. And now gang in and see yer dinner is fit for Christian mooths." This salutation from our Scotch mate, drove in the head of our poultry man, and we heard no more dissertations on sea-fowl during the voyage. At dinner the mate congratu- lated the company on the excellence of the pea-soup, re- marking that it " smacked muir o' the plaid than usual," because he " had gi'en the cook a crack o' the claymor on his bagpipe ; a keekin, as he war, at things wi'out when he should ha' been o' stirrinhis meal." Trifling incidents like this occasionally broke the monotony of our weary life. Our latitude and longitude were taken daily at twelve M., and the report of these and the distance from the islands al- ways gave rise to some prophetic annnouncements of the day and hour when we should anchor in the dominions of Kamehameha. The evenings also furnished a few diversions and pleasant objects of contemplation. Bathing was one of the former. After the shadows of night had set in, we used to present ourselves at the mainstays, and receive as much of the Ocean as our love of the sublime by the gallon, or our notions of cleanliness demanded. And when the lioot- ing, leaping, and laughing of the ceremony were f^ilenced, the cool comfort of the body left the mind in lislless quiet- ude, or to its wanderings among the glories of a tropical sky. It was the 24th of December ; the mid-winter hour. But the space over us was as mild and soft a blue as ever covered a September night in the States. The stars sent down a deli- cate sprinkling light on the waters. The air itself presented some peculiar aspects. It was more netuly transparent than any I had ever breathed ; and there seemed to be woven into 'ta TRAVELS IN THE C A L I F n N I A 8 . 27 all its thousand eddies a tissue of golden and trembling mist, streaming down from the depths of Heaven ! There was a single sad spot on the scene. The north star, so high and brilliant in the latitude where I had spent my previous years, was gradually sinking into the haze about the horizon. I had in very early life looked with greater interest upon that than any other star. The little house which my deceased fathei had built on the shore of a beautiful lake among the green woods of Vermont, stood "north and south" upon the autho- rity of that star. And after he had died at that humble out- post of the settlements, leaving me a boy of nine years, his death-bed, the little house, and the star which had guided my parent's hand in laying the foundation on the brow of the deep wilderness, came to be objects of the tenderest recol- lection. I was sorry to see it obscured ; for it always burned brightly in our woodland home ; and was the only thing which, as years rolled on, remained associated with paternal love. I remember, too, another class of emotions that gave oc- cupation to my heart in those beautiful nights. We thought and talked of Cook. He had ploughed those seas long be- fore us ; had discovered the group of islands to which our voyage tended ; had met a fearful death at the hands of the inhabitants ; and some of his bones yet lay, scraped and prepared for the gods, in the deep caverns of Hawaii ! The waters rippling at our ship's side, had borne him ; had rushed in tempests, and lain in great beauty around him ; had greeted the discovery flag of the brave old Fatherland, and heard its cannon boom ! We were sailing under the same flag. It was not, indeed, the same identical buD*ing which floated in 1789 ; but it was the emblem of the same social organization, of the same broad intelligence ; the in- signia of the same Power, whose military embattlemetnts, grain fields and homes, gird the Earth ! I was glad to ap- proach the Hawaiian Islands on the track of Cook, under the old British flng. Is there a human sense which derives its nutriment from 1 1 •I i If I "i -28 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. ihe things which are gone ? Is there a holy-flower which springs up among the withered tendrils of buried beauty ? a strong and vigorous joy, which, like the Aloe, blooms a moment on the cold midnight of heavy sorrow 1 Is there an elevation of the whole being into a higher condition, when we wander among the trees, the ruins and the graves of former times 1 It may be so. For surely he who treads the dust of Rome and stands on the ruins of Thebes, has a species of previous existence wrapped about him. He sees m the one case armies thronging the Appian-way, hears the multitude surging in the forum under the enthusiasm kin- dled by Cicero, and feels that the eagle of freedom is throw- ing the pinions of his protection over the energies of man. In the other case he hears the voice of the mighty chief tain summoning his millions of subservient hands. The hammer and the chisel, from the beginning to the end of day, send up their vast din to the passing hours. The moun- tain columns of Thebes stand up in the presence of the pyra- mids ! And a subject land bows in servitude to a great and controlling intellect. We are there, and form an integral wave in the sea of vitality that flowed forty ages ago ! We venerate the broken tomb of the past. We knock gently at its gate, and find our bodies and minds grow vigorous and happy in those sublime imaginings, which carry our entire selves back to see and converse with those men, the mere ruins of whose deeds still astonish mankind ! We retired to rest this evening in unusually fine spirits ; for, with the aid of the good breeze piping down from the northwest, we expected sight of land by the next sunset. Our sleep, however, was not remarkably deep, for I recol- lect that the wind freshened during the night, as it generally does in the edge of the trades, and compelled the morning- watch to take in sail. The noise occasioned by this move- ment was construed, by the wakeful ear of our desires, into a shortening canvas to prevent running on land ; and we turned out to see it. But it was yet beyond view. The T B A V r. 1, S IN T 11 K C A I. I F R M I A » . 29 niirlit, however, was worth beholding. It was one o'clock ; the sky overhead was clear and starry ; around the north- western horizon hunj^ a cluster of swollen clouds, like Moorish towers, faintly tipped with the dim light. In the southwest lay another mass, piled in silent grandeur, dark battlement-like, as if it were the citadel of the seas ! The waters were in an easy mood. The ship moved tlnough them evenly, save that she cut the long smooth swells more deeply than the space between them, ai.u occasionally started from his slumber a porpoise or a whale. We turned-in again and slept till the breakfast dishes clat- tered on the table, and Tom informed us that J\Ir. New jU supposed he had seen at sunrise the looming of tlie land in the southeast ! That announcement brought us to our feet ; sleep gave place to the most active efforts at hauling on and buttoning up the various articles of our wardrobe. " On deck! on dock! where away the land?" and we tasked our eyes with their utmost effort to scan the nature of the dark embankment on which the mate had founded his au- guries. The excitement at length drew all the passengers and otficers to the starboard-quarter ; each man looked and expressed himself in his own way. To guess, was the Yankee's part ; to look and doubt, v.as John Bull's plea- sure ; to wu-> it might be true, was the Scotch contribu- tion ; and to reckon awhile and commend himself to be dumbfoun : -'i if anything could be known about it, was the Carolinian »';irpon;or'.s clincher. The matter left standing thus, we obeyed Tom's summons to breakfast. While engaged in filling our countenances with the reali- ties of life, we were startled with a bird's nntc from the deck ! It proved to come from one of those winged songsters of the islands, which often greet the toiling ship far at sea, and with their sweet voices recall to the soul, weary with the rough monotony of an unnatural life, the remembrance and antici- pation of the land ; the green and beautiful land ; where the glorious light brightens the flowers ; where the flowers shed J ^f ! ' I I ,1 rt no S C E N K S IN THE PACIFIC. llieir perfume on the iiir, and ihe fruits of trees, and shrubs, and plants, are poured into the lap of the ripened year. Who does not love the birds 1 who is not made bet ei and happier by hearing them sing among the b\ids and leaves, when the streams begins to babble, and the mosses to peer above the retiring snows 1 when the violet opens, ;ind nleadows and forests change the brown garb of winter fertile green mantle of the young year? No one who loves nature and can sympathize with it. But this one — perched in the rigging of the ship in which we had been imprisoned for weeks — a messenger from the glens and hills sweetly chanting our welcome to them, was an object of the tenderest interest. It ha4 the cordial greet- ing of our hearts ; and while talking about it, we could not forbear reaching our hands towards it, and grieving that we had no intelligible language wherewith to convey our salu- tations, and ask the tidings from its beautiful home. The captain consulted his reckoning, and found that we lay about one hundred miles northwest -by-north from the island of Hawaii. The breeze, instead of decreasing with the ascent of the sun, as it had done for a number of days past, held on ; and with all the weather studding-sails out, We made about ten knots during most of the morning. About ten o'clock, Mi. Newell, who had been watching that embankment of cloud in the southwest, which had excited our hopes at sunrise, touched his hat to Captain Duncan and remarked, " That cloud retains its bearing and shape very much like the loom- ing of land, sir. We must be in sight of some of the islands : we made ten knots by the log, sir, during my watch." The Captain had expressed his belief that he could sail his ship under that cloud without lead line, or copper bottom; and it was still iiis opinion that an English commander like him- self, an old salt of thirty years' standing, would be as likely toknowthc complexionof theland as any gentleman withless experienced optics. However, he sent Tom for his glass and It. )ud tse, liat \m- h: his ind llv TRAVELS IN THE CALIF0RNIA8. 31 peered into it with the keenest search. It was delightful, meantime, to us land-lubbers, to watch the workings of his face. There was a gleam of triumph creeping over it as he first brought his glass to bear upon the object. But as the highest part of the pile came into the field of vision, his cheeks dropped an instant, then curled into ilio well-known lineaments of chagrin, and then into those of rage, as if he would rather all the land were sunk, than he be found mis- taken in a matter so purely professional. " Damn the land !" he at length exclaimed ; " I suppose it must be Mauna-Kea," and gave the glass to a passenger. The breeze piped up and we moved on merrily. Merrily flew the gladdening waters from the prow ; steadily as the masts stood out the canvass on the clear blue sky ; and brightly beamed the warm and mellow day on the sea. The Scotch mate, who swore by any dozen of things that his memory happened to seize, affirmed by his blood and the whisky that had been buried seven comfortable years at his auld aunt's homestead, that he would see the lassies of Hono- lula before he was a day older ; the professor of psalmody sung, "Here's a health to thee, Tom Moore ;" the Hawaiian Island servantsof the Hudson's Bay Company began to count their money preparatory to the purchase of poi ; the crew began to tell yarns about " sprees" they had enjoyed in Chili, New Holland, Liverpool, Vera Cruz, St. Petersburgh and Montevideo ; the six foot bootswain began to whistle ; Tom began to grin ; a former cabin-boy began to think of his mother, whom he expected to meet in the islands ; the visitor bird chirped in the rigging ; and all for joy ! For now the lofty peaks of Hawaii loomed above the clouds, the sea-weed gathered on the prow, and the odor of the land puffed over us. At five o'clock the breeze slackened again, and until nightfall the ship barely moved enough to obey her helm. Near ten in the evening it freshened, but as we were in the neighborhood of a lee-shore, the captain thought it prudent \ 1 1 ;J2 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. to keep good sea-room, and accordingly shortened sail and lay oft" a part of the night. This was Christinas eve, that nucleus of so much social and religious joy throughout the Christian world, and a merry one it was to us. Not so in the ordinary sense of the trencher and cup, the music, dance, and the embrace of kindred ; nor rendered such by the pealing anthem or the solemn prayer, swelling up through the lofty arches hung with boughs of ever-green and the prophetic star of Beth- lehem! But nature herself seemed worshipping! The heavens were unmarred by a single breath of mist, except what rested upon the heights of Hawaii ; and on all its vault the stars shone, not as brightly as in the frosty skies of the temperate zones, but with a quiet subdued lustre, as if they were the watch-fires of angels assembled to celebrate the earth's great jubilee. The Pacific, too, lent the scene its most charming condi- tion. Wide and gently curved swells rolled down from the north, smooth, and noiseless, except when they dashed upon our noble ship, or were broken by the dolphin coursing through and dotting them with phosphorescent light ! The sea-birds were hailing each other a merry Christmas. The grey and mottled albatross, flying from billow to billow, occasionally clipped the waves with his sword-shaped wings, and shouted gladly to the elements ! The gulls and other birds sat in countless flocks in every direction, sinking, rising and chattering on the panting sea 1 And schools of tiny fish with bright golden backs swam by the side of the ship, as children, after long absence, gather with cherish- ed remembrances around the old homestead on this blessed night. At dawn on the 25th one of the islands lay six mile dis- tant in the southeast. The sky was clear ; the sea smooth ; the porpoises blowing about us ; a right whale was spouting a hundred rods a' tern ; and our Hawaiians, looking from the mainstays at the land, were uttering their beautiful language of \S. [e le T It A V f. I. S IN r II i. ( A I. I K O n N I A S , )f vowels with great volubilily. Poi (tli :v.] of tliei name national dish), wyhini (woman), and iri (chief), were the only words I then understood ; and these occurred very often in their animated dialogues. Poor fellows ! they had been five years absent from their poi ; five years separated from the brown beauties of their native isles ; five years away from their venerated sovereign. No wonder, there- fore, they were charmed with the dim outline of their native land ! A mass of vapor hung along its heights and con- cealed them from view, save here and there a volcanic spire which stood out on the sky, overlooking cloud, mountain, and sea. As tiie light increased to full day, this cloudy mass was fringed on the edge nearest us with delicate golden hues ; but underneath it and inward toward the cliffs, the tinijisturbed darkness reached far eastward, a line of night belting the mountains mid-heaven. Downward from this line to the sea, sloped red mountains of old lava, on which no vegetable life appeared. On a few little plains near the beach the cocoa-tree sent up its bare shaft ; and as the clouds broke away we discerned clumps of rich foliage on the heights. But generally the aspect was that of a dreary broken desert. We sailed past the western cape of Moratai, and laid our course for the southeastern part of Oahu. At two o'clock our good old ship lay becalmed, under the lofty piles of ex- tinct craters, six miles northeast of Honolulu. At four the breeze freshened, and bore us down abreast of the town. Soon after a boat came rapidly from the shore with a pilot on board by the name of Reynolds ; a generous, jolly old American gentleman, of long residence in the islands. He greeted his countrymen with great kindness, and having brought the ship to anchor outside the reef, invited us to go ashore in his boat. It was manned with islanders. They rowed to the entrance, of the channel, rested on their oars while the angry s^^ ells lifted us at one instant on the summit of the waters and at another dropped us into thf ii 34 SCBIfES IN THE PACiriC. chasm between them, till the third and largest came, when, by a quick and energetic movement, they threw the boat upon the land side of it, and shot us into the harbor with the rapidity of the wind ! We passed the American whalers which crowded the anchorage ; ran under the guns of the fort 'f struck the landing ut the pier > leaped ashore among crowds of natives, besprinkled with an occasional Eu- ropean face : followed an overgrown son of John Bull to another man's house, took a glass of wine, and scattered ourselves in various quarters for the night. Thus terminated our voyage from the Columbia river to the Kingdom of Hawaii, The distance between Oregon and these islands is about three thousand miles. We had sailed it in twenty-one days. The next morning the Vancouver entered the harbor with the land-breeze, and anchored near the pier. The " steer- age" and the Hawaiians now came on shore. The former settled his hat over his eyes and sought a barber's shop j the latter repaired to the town with their friends. I fol- lowed them. Whenever they met an old acquaintance they immediately embraced him, and pressed noses together at the sides. After many salutations of this kind they ar- rived at the market-place j made a purchase o( poi ( a fer- mented paste of boiled taro), and seated themselves with their friends around it. The poi was contained in large calabashes or gourdshells. With these in the midst they began to eat and recall the incidents of pleasure which had sweetened their early years. Their mode of conveying the poi to their mouths was quite primitive. The fore and middle fi. gers served in- stead 0/ a spoon. These they inserted to the depth of the knuckteK, and having raised as much as would lie upon them, Jind by a very dexterous whirl brought it into a globu- lar shape upon the tips, they thrust it into their months^ and licked their fingers clean for another essay. They had been seated but a short time when others joined them, who -tI i 4i^ ■'I 3 ^ =-c: TH>VF. I. S tN THE CALIFORNIA 8. 3ft iKought sad news. One of their former friends had recently died ! On hearing this their hands dropped, and the dread- ful wail cwai bursi from every mouth, as they rose and went towards the hul in which the dead body lay. It was situ- ated a short distaiue from the hotel ; and during the night I heard thai wail ring through the silent town ! A more painful expression of sorrow I hope never to hear. The next morning I went to the burial. The wail was sus- pended during the ceremonies ; but for several succeeding nights it continued to break my slumbers. A few days after- ward I suw them gathered again near the market-place em- ployed with their pot. The wages of five years' service was nearly exhausted. They had given a large portion to the chief of their district, and spent the rest in feasting and cloth- ing their poor relatives. They were poor when I lost sight of them. But those whom they had fed were sharing their pittance with them. The most affectionate and hospitable people on earth are these Hawaiians. Our Carolinian remained A few days at Honolulu, and took passage in one of P. J. Farnham & Co.'s ships for New York. He insisted to the very last of my intercourse with him, that his Californian brunette was a woman ! Mr. Simpson took lodgings with that distinguished slice of 1 John Bull to which I have already referred. He em- ployed himself with much industry upon his duties of set- tling accounts with his host, who, as the agent of the Com- pany, had sold the lumber, fish, &c., exported from Oregon to these islands. After tarrying a month at Honolulu, he returned in the Vancouver to Columbia River. He was a fine fellow, full of anecdote and social feeling, talented and modest ; and I doubt not will eventually rise to the highest rank in the Company's service. The professor of psalmody stopped at the hotel and pre- pared to exhibit himself. His first essay was to deliver to the American Missionaries and others, ccrt?in letters which he had obtained in Oregon. His next was to awaken the "• I 1 . I \: H 1 } ! ' H ■\ 36 SCilNES IN THE PACIFIC genius of music. For this purpose he auendetl a nuinbei of singing parlies, at which he ultcmpifil to make himself useful to three young Americans, who sung with masterly taste. In the opinion of the professor they " needed a little burnishing," whicli he voluntoered to give iti>!in. Unfortu nately for the art, however, they were vaiii enough t;j suj)- pose they hud learned miisie l>efore liisritrival ; anddidnoi therefore value his suggestions so highl\ .is he hiniself did. But the professor perseveicd. His fori ie:i ranee knew no hmit towards the deluded tyros. On all |)uhlic occasions he never failed to throw out many invaluable hints as to movement, ascent, and sty h.' generail). lie even encou- raged them to hope that, with all tlieii aiiperleciions, they might attain a respectal)le degree ol ex«'(;llent e if they would attend to his instructions. Whether oi not lis exer- tions were ever pioperly appreciated by 'hese giuiiemon is a f the \oiiiig lady whom he had forsaken. She wastlie witeot a Missioiuiry, a zealous servant of her Master. lie • ailetl on her and was invited to remain to tea. I W'as piesent. Kv<'ry thing was sad as the grave ! The mercies ot Heaven were im- plored upon his blighted conscience ! He left, litde hap^ pier for the reminiseencs awakened by the visit, and soon after sailed for California. I heard of hirii as an ingenious man in .ncnding a watch on shipboard, hin never as one of moral integrity or as the. Napoleon of the Culifornias! V .1 I* !J4 '! ! CHAPTER III. Sanraiian Islands- -Spaniards first visited them — Hoopili Wyhini — Ac- count of Ciiok's visit— a god — A Robber and his Death — Vancouver's Visit — Kamenameha J ~A Treaty — Cattle — Origin of the Islands — Poetry, and another Book — Legends> — Tmiu — Philosophy of Civilization — A Way i(j me End — What is Taught — Gratitude — Departure from the Islands— Lava and Cauldrons— Goats and Men — Passengers— Cap- tain, Mates and Crew— A Human Managerie — Northing — Variables — Ten days Out—Too nauseous for Music— Uncombed Hair — Exhila- rated — Lovely — Growing Fat — Ten Knot«— Ten more days out— An Ocean Don- American and English Tars— A Squall — A new mode ol taking Eels— Land ho— Mission— Wrath— Monterey. This group of islands was first visited by a Spanish ship, during the early explorations of the northwest coast of America, by Admiral Otondo, Viscaiyno, and others. The traditions of the natives say, that a small vessel was driven ashore on th<^ southern coast of Hawaii, that two of the crew only esc.iped death among- the breakers, and that these intermarried with the natives and left children. I saw some descentJants of these men. Their European features an'? the use ol a few cc 'pted Spanish words, satisfied me of the truth ot the legend and the shin's nationality. Captain (^ook next visited them in 1779. The circum- stances of his visit and massacre, as given me by a very ^ged chieftainess, Hoopili Wyhini, will interest the re uler. " Captain Cook's men were allowed to steal a canoi* be- longing to our people. Our chiefs asked that it might be returned ; but Captain Cook had made us believe that he was a god, and thought to take what he pleased. Our tra- ditions asserted that gods would not rob, and we told him 38 a « t-" E N E S ly ^'«E PACIFIC )L' "Sin .os.e„l fr„„ hi,,,. . „ t iTlfr '*'■"■ '■' ^™''" '' "•'"" ■■" long distance ,„r,"«'' '""^•"■eyswam „„,,,., "^ f-e nails. Cook wL °" t r '' '''"'"' '' '" "'~- - "oat, and ,h,,,„„,, ^^^.^f --ged „, tke loss of reiurned. But it could „„ Z .'^^•™«""> " i, were no, " A number of d,vs ,, . ' "'"' ''"s-myod. "'"n our people and Ctl::'' T^'^ '"""-"""e be- ^"gffested Iha, so „„iu,, ' ".^'S"«"; ''""nff which a chief »" others said he wi t ::f. Z"" "-" '« » g«ci. 1! J^y^ of darkness. Why do ™ '^ '''"^ "'"^ '" "ur "npleasan, things 7.. ■* '"^ """"remembersuch J explained tJnf T , ■"*-, and she c'o„;i:rd •"""" '" '""" '-' """' of the and\t^r,f,h?:t:';r;;; ^'— --.h an „r„,ed force, ^oard his ship. ThetLf ttelr"-? """ '" ^-' Cook was a„g,.y, ,„j „,^ ,„"''"'-'''"<' P'ovenled bin,. "'^"' down ,0 the shore ,W ■ e , T '" f ^'""' "^e. He gathered around him. The I ' , "' '"^- '''''-= People « sod, tried ,0 kin Cook u'r:; ':.;!''' -""-^vehi,,, he people who belonged o'h?,, f' '''"'' ^"'' ">«' •hu. became clear that'cook ' '^' ''"'"' ^ook. I, our old gods could not die T^ "" ^"'' '' ^'" ''" "'""S'" before the Po„o (Gospel) c™! "'"" "'"■ ^^■"^ °f ^i", pleasant to speak of the,;.,"' "'"""ff "■'! ""'lit is no, Ihis venerable chicftainess.., . »t the time of VancouverTvisit T'" '" »°™an'.ood following account of it I ' '" "™- ^he gave the " When Vancouver ■ii-.i,.. 1 . ,. 'he chief of three distrL." '""'"'• Kameh»„... .... Kohala, a " Hamak ;'eigning king, and conquered "a- That year h( fought ^■ere Kona, against th -ha cid not see Vane uv fa 'kI ' *""• '^"-h" at Kona, where he fi„, „„. „_.,^.._. „ T 1! A V E L S IN THE C A I, I F R N I A S . 39 cliored. But a little after the time of our national holidays, which occurred in the latter part of the Christians' Decem- ber, he came to Kealukekua Bay. There I fust saw liii)!. Kamehameha also visited him at that place. The llajj, ship, brig and store-ship, appeared to ho under the genera! command of a man whom we called Puk6ki ; the captuiii of the store-ship we called Hapilinu. " While this squadron remained in the bay, myself iuxl thirteen others went aboard. They were Kamehameha. his threj brothers and one sister, myself, my aunt, and two other women. The remainder were chief men. After being at sea four days, we anchored in Kealukekua Bay in which Cook was killed. " Kamehameha was very friendly to Vancouver — accord ing to our old rules of hospitality, he furnished him with a concu- bine. He gave me to him. I passed nine days on hoard his ship. Kamehameha presented to him a great many hogs and bananas, and received trifling presents of old iron in return. At the end of nine days I left the ship, in compai y with some other chiefs, to visit my sick brother, and did not return. " On another occasion, Kamehameha, his chiefs, and two Knglishraen who had been adopted by some old chiefs and made a part of the king's counsel, named John Young anil Isaac Davis, were passing ihe day on board the flag-ship, when Kamehameha addressed to Vancouver these words : • E nana mai ea u, eia ka uina,' which being interpreted, means, 'Look after us, and if we arc injured, protect us.' To this Vancouver assented. An instrument in writing, which he said would hind his sovereign to keep the pro- mise he had made, was framed and presented to the king. I (hi not know whether Kamehameha understood what was written ; nor do I know whether or not the king signed it. But until the French captain. La Place, came, and abused us, we thought the English would protect us ; because Van- couver promised to do so. Kamehameha always said the English were our friends — that the islands were his, and 40 SCENES IN THE rACIFIC, i| < > that these friends would keep off all danger from abroad. It is not clear to me that they have been faithful to the words of Vancouver. •' Vancouver built a tent and high tower on shore. In the former he sometimes slept. In the latter his learned men pointed bright instruments at the moon and stars. A doctor, whom we called Makaua, visited the volcano. He iind sore lips when he returned. He brought down some sulphur, saltpetre, and lava. " Vancouver gave me two fathoms of red broadcloth. To the king and chiefs he also gave some of the same. He said the king of England sent it to us. I had two husbands at this time. The one was Kalanimamahu, the son of Keona, and the other Hoopili, the late governor of Maui. The first was the father of Queen Auhea ; the latter is buried among the people near the church. Those were days of darkness. " Vancouver gave to Kamehnmeha four cattle, three cows and one bull. He said to Karaehameha, 'feed them five years, and then begin to kill and eat.' They were shut up in a field several years, but broke out one after another, and went to the mountains. Very few were killed for thirty years. During the last ten, many have been slaughtered for their hides and tallow. Vancouver killed one of the calves be- fore he left us. They were brought froii California. " Vancouver had an interpreter whom our people called Lehua ; and another who was a native chief in the island of Taui. This latter had made a voyage in an English whale-ship, during which he had learned tlie langungc of that nation. By means of these men, he ajked questions, and received answers in regard to our old v.ays. Once he asked ' whence came these islands V and our chiefs re- plied — ' Hawaii is the child of the gods Papa and Wakea, and the other islands are the children of Hawaii.' " The chief priests Ihcu said Ilav.aii was in a very soft state immediately after birtli, but a goJ doscended from the skies and called — ' E Ilauaii Ea, Hiwaii Oh,' and the god K.:^:. -^.^.^z^^^ J- lied land glisli ;c of ons, he re- ea, Itate Icies rod ■-)■•* ■ if ■;a r K A V i; I, s I X T !i i: ( a i, i i' o k n i a s . 41 Hawaii c;ime loitlmoinniunicaU!'! to the pulpy land «> gyra- (ory motion, made it come around him, and assume a per- manent form. Vancouver replied, ' right.' '* I am sixiy-five years old and must die soon." I was exceedingly interested in these conversations with this remarkable woman. She had been one of the wives of Kamehnmeha the First ; had commanded his navy of war- canoes, during his conquests, and was at the time of ray in- terview with her the acting executive of Maui, and a scholar in the Missionary Sabbath school ! I remained three months in these beautiful islands, en- joying the revelations of these chronicler of old and curious times. The king, chiefs, foreign residents and Missionaries, perceiving my avidity in gathering information respecting the country and its people, rendered me every aid in their power to facilitate my inquiries. Nor do I ever expect ^ainto find a richer field of the strange, the beautiful, the wonderful and the sublime, than was there presented to me. The legends of a thousand generations of men, livi>ig apart from the rest of mankind, among the girding depths of the Pacific seas ; the stories of their gods and goddesses ; the tales of their wars ; the fate of bad princes whom their deities reprimanded from the skies ; the beatification of the good on whom their divinities scattered blessings; their forms of government ; their religious ceremonies ; their genealogies ; their poetry, more of it than Greece ever had, and still sung by bards travelling from village to village ; their dances; their rejoicings at a birth; their wailings over the dead, and, the solemn ceremonies of their burials ; are a few of the interesting subjects invest io^a ted. The intense interest, as well as the amount of writingre- quired to exhibit these matters, will furnish my best apology for passing them in this place. They may hereafter appear in a separate volume. Bui I cannot allow my readers to pass from the Hawaiian kingdom, without presenting to their notice the inter. !;;ing fact, thai a Immlrcd and seven thou. 42 S C E N i; 3 IN THE PACIFIC sand savages have been brought within the pale of civiliza- tion fiiid Christianity through the instrumentality of the Americans. Twenty-five years ago a nation occupied the kingdom of Hawaii which sought its happiness frojvi a systematic viola- tion of the fundamental laws of Creation. Their food was under the tnbuy or ban ; so that the powerful m civil and religious afliiirs appointed the best edibles for their own use, and made death the penalty to their wives, tlaughters and inferiors, if they tasted them. The fire kindled to cook the food of the rafin was tabued; it was death for woman to kindle hers from it, or cook or light a pipe at it. The per- son of the king was tabued. It was death to touch him, or any article which he had used, or to step on his shadow, or the shadow of his house. And at the hour of midnisjht hu- man victims were slaughtered, and piled on scaffolds with dogs and hogs, around the temples which they would con- secrate to their deities ! ! Here human nature had been forced from its true appe- tencies to the material and spiritual Universe. Its misery followed as an inevitable consequent. But the Hawaiians were thinkers. The violated ordinances of the world recoil- ing on them at every tread of life, forced on them the thought of obedience and its blessings. And they rose in their pow er ; au' frouitiie full hand of Heaven; prostrated their ancient temples ; burned their hideous gods ; made the civil power subservient to the common good ; and restored themselves, after immemorial iiges of degradation, to the quiet reign of the natural laws. It is most remarkable that the American missionaries were on their voyage to the islands while these things were being done! The law of relationship between these people and their Maker had been lost among the crude follies of idol-worship and civil tyranny. These they had broken down by a mighty blow. The fragmentsofthpirtrmples, altars and gods, wore .«trewn over the land. An entire nation looked on t lie flower.", the stars, the rivulet, the ocean, the birds and themsehef. rer; ent ver t'S, of an se Mr P Cocoa Tree of Hawaii. — P. 43. I I I I i I I I I h I T R A V K L 3 r N T II K C A I, [ K R N I A 8. 43 and believed in no God ! ! The vessel which brought lo them the Chrislian faith anchored at Honolulu ! The event, which shook the hill, darkened the sun and opened the gra.es of Judea, was proclaimed, and gave its hopes of Heaven to a hundred thousand people ! A nation thus en- tered the world as its loved homestead became obedient to its organization ; called back the wandering religious sym- pathies to the worship of the true God ; opened to every faculty the sphere of its legitimate enjoyments ; and made human nature again a component part of creation, existing in haimony with it and its Author. Man must incorporate himself into that great chain of relationship and sympathy which runs from inorganized matter to the first feeble manifestation of vegetable life, and thence upward through bud, leaf and blossom, and upward still along the great range of animal existence to the think< ing and feeling principle, and thence to God. It is in this manner alone, that he can feed his faculties with their own aliment. And it is his ignorance of the dependence of each portion of his body and mind, on each and every external existence, which makes thorns for his feet and keeps up a perpetual warf«r': between himself and the immutable con- ditions of his true happiness. I am sincerely persuaded that the regulating principle of human culture, is to sympathize with every form of creation within our knowledge ; to enTPr the world as our home ; to seat ourselves at its hearth ; to eat its viands and drink its blessings; to slumber in its arms ; to hear the floods of har- monious sounds which come up to us from the matter and life about us ; and to yield our being to the great dependent chain of relationship which binds God's material empire. His realms of mind and Himself, in one sympathizing whole ! The universal requirement is, that man's nature shall be brought into harmony with creation and its Author. This is the whole law of our being. Obedience to it is the unalterable condition of happiness ; the only true test of civilization ; the , 4*^ r 44 8 (• K N K 8 IN Tin: PACIFIC. 1 1- i ^ }]} 'V ■: only stale in which our powers, physical and mental, will operate haniioniously ; the only iiositinn of our existence which looks forward on the path ofoiir destiny, with any cer- tainty that thought, feeling, and ;ict, will h'ad to results pleastneahle to ourselves ard in harmony with the rest of the world. It is a want of proper rellection on this matter which has rendered abortive so many cllbrts to civilize different por- tions of the race. In India, in the forests of the west, in every other place, except the Hawaiian Islands, where the societies of Protestantism have made efforts to ameliorate the condi- tion of the barbarian, nearly the whole acting force has been brought to bear on the cultivation of the religious sentiments. The theory has been, make them Christians, and everything else will follow as a promised favor of Heaven. No error has cost the church more money and life than this. The savage has been taught the doctrines of salvation, and his direct relations to the Deity. Thus far, well. Bui there was no corresponding teaching to the rest of his na- ture. His physical wants and the mode of supplying them, remained unchanged. All his relaliop o the external world continued the same. And the large? iber of the strong- est desires of the mind being thus lelt, to contend with those which the missionaries attempted to excite and purify, it is no wonder that so little has been accomplished. In the Hawaiian Islands the missionaries found a people living in villages, having a property in the soil, and depend ing chiefly upon its culture for their subsistence. They also found them destitute of every kind of religion, and de- sirous of receiving one : they were a talented people and anxious for new ideas. This was a remarkable state of things. Their physical adaptation to the natural world was so far in advance of the mental, that the latter only required to be placed on an equal footing with the former, to produce the civilization and moral rectitude which they now possess. The result of missionary efforts in those islands, if well Wl 11 stcnce ly I or- rtisiilts ich has It por- 1 every )cietic.s condi- is been inents. vth ine: 11 lan vation, . But his na- th cm. wor 1(1 trong- th ose it is [people ^epend Thry id dc- |le and lie of was luirod lotlucc Issesfi \vc 11 M r % >i 55 •^ Sgi 55 T R A V i; 1. S IN T II C A I, I r U K i A ». 4:"i '"ilfi understood, may lead to some valuable changes in the mode of operating elsewhere. It will be learned that while the physical wants and the mode of supplying them, are op- posed to the ordained condition, it is vain to expect the Christianized state. We may, meanwhile, rejoice at this single result. It is one of the great events of the age. Twenty thousand Hawaiians are members of Christian churches. Seventy thousand read and write. The whole people are better taught, more in- telligent, and farther advanced in civilization than are the ciiizens of the Mexican Republic. Their Government is more paternal, a? administered more kindly than any other known to civilized man. But I must hasten homeward. The hospitality of countrymen during my tarry in these islands, the kir dness of countrymen, bestowed on me, a stranger, fleeing from my grave, and sad — away from those on whose hearts I had a right to lean — how can I ever for- get them ! While those beautiful islands have a place in my memory, they will be associated with some of the most grateful recollections of my life. It is painful to think that I may never again grasp the hands of some noble spirits, whom I saw and loved in the kingdom of Hawaii ! To the sea ! on board the bark Don Quixote, Paty, master, boun ' for Upper California! We left the harbor of Honolulu, under a swoet land breeze from the foresi , crowning the vol- canic hills m the icar of the city, and bore away to the west- ward along the coast. The mo intains of decomposing lata rose from the v'lter side in sharp curving ridges, which, ele- vating themselves as they swept i-n .nd, lay in the interior piled above the clouds. Some of them were covered with the dense green foliage of the tropics ; and others were as desti- tute of vegetation as when they were poured a liquid burning mass, from the cauldron of the vo^ anoes. JNIany valleys dot- ted with the hay-thatched hu; > of the natives, their fields of taro, and orchards of bread-fruit, cocoa and plantain, lav The lower hills were covered with frolicli- along the shore • m 46 SCENES IK THE P . ^ "E PACIFIC. •'■ IHE PACIFIC P ensure a, seeing ou,- sh p, "wlH f ! T^^' """"""S 'hoi, push through the waves H„ "'' "^«<'"x - "^ three ^ea^- One of these was an excellent JUt /m?' "»'' '"oethearts. of rausic and j„,„ee ; ,ho othe a "' "'"■ " '""' fall r:f;rf-" 'he same dS:r«fT^'='7"'> ™ acting "ve of he fair sex we could boaT^f ""'>' "Pfesenla- "vanan lass, g„i„g ,„ ^, ' T!' "f ^'f a half-breed Ha- ■nountaineer froJ-New CL 1?°''' '"^ ''*''''' "» old »hop at Santa Barbara, in U^" 'c, """ '^^'"""S =« ™a« Cnplain Paty was ■, U«t ''"hfoinia. ffencroas heart • . C.v Ijr"' "'"' " IX'et spirit, and a '^-^ 'o 'he windward, aS^T'^T'^'^Ci^ .Of New V,rk, U,ried her and ™''" ^'"' '» 'he city m t e double capacity of Col;: V'"'.™»'»-.g '"^ - ^ foMhe means of educ' ting™ " ITd" ''"''' '^^'■"«. Our crew was n ^^u • ^ ^"^^^- ■—election Of „jj.,,„„„,^. The fi„, .•„ y i**^ ■^1.') "1 TRAVELS IN THE C A L I F R N I A S. 47 height and importance was " Yankee Tom ;" the second a pair of English renegadoes, from the royal navy or else- where ; next came a number of old tars, who hailed from the earth generally ; then several Hawaiians, and last of all, the cook ; as dar! a piece of flesh as ever wore wool, and as independent a gentleman as ever wrestled with a soup pot. Thus we were all manned fore and aft. The extremes of cursing and prayer, of authority and subservi- ency, law, divinity, and merchandize, were there. Indeed, we had a piece of everything in the way of thought, feeling, taste and form, requisite to furnish a very respectable hurnan menagerie. And if the shade of our friend Cuvier had leisure on his hands to look in upon us, and observe the paws of our lions, the teeth of our tigers, the grins of our apes, the wool of our lambs, and the men- tal and physical qualities of each species, I doubt not he was satisfied with the diversity of their powers and the completeness of the collection. When leaving th*; latitude of the islands, we had a dis- tant view of the Taui. It was studded with mountains of moderate elevation, clothed with evergreen forests. It ap- peared beautiful enough to be the island of Indian Mytho- logy under the setting sun, where the good will find eternal hunting, fishing, and women of unfading beauty. But our ship stood away under a strong breeze, and we soon lost sight of the island in the mist and shades of night. While making our northing we experienced a great va- riety of weather. On the first two or three degrees it was comparaiively mild, and the generous breezes appeared to push us on with a right good will. But on reaching the lati- tude beyond the Trades, the winds from the northwest over- took us. These currents of air in the winter and spring are exceedingly rough, gusty and cold; and being often alternat- ed with the warm breezes from the torrid zone, produce con- ditions of the atmosphere, which, in more senses than one, may be termed " variables." The balmy breath of one day 48 '""^■*^" -■■■■■■' .■..c.,.,,. '^■'^^^ the north, ,nd ,he .•,,,•''' "'^' ^^'^-'^^ ^^^'k sha.lV, J T . "ob'-'J ^\avcs w lirl. roll . '"'"lei fans |o make music; tko m.iUiZ^^:'^f":" l"-..,„..i,k -"dances po™i„e„ . , , f '" '"' •■'^- '"-'.v ns ci". ;-• He «,a» of A„,c.™,:. 'riltr"' "'"■ "'""" »•'»!. 'o '"■P v bad on,n ' "' "" l''""""'^^- •""<■•'' old sails, „;,i.„| „.,'""'""■ »'or.ny biscnils re '" motion, «bii;'„,r , : ;;. 1- -i.e s„u„.y„,.„ „,; ; ""■^ '''e English ,na,e gav T!" '""' •'"'^'-P'--', "J "-ding snils „cc„rdi;; ; , 'T™" °''"'"=-l>«™.^ I »ot,ced on board ,be D„°n O ™ "' ««»»ieb. ^»onQu,.™,„,a„deIsewhered„ri„g ■S'.a m M T R A V K L ft IN THE C A U I F K N I A S. 4'J my wanderings, a (liffercnce between Brltisli antl American seamen, which I beheve to be quite general. It is this. The Briton is better aajuaintcd with the tilings to be done on deck and among the rigging than the American is. He splices u rope better; he knows better how to make a ship look trim and comely. But he knows comparatively nothing about the hidl of his craft. His seven years apprenticeship has been devoted to learning the bf.st mode of sailing a vessel and keeping her in good condition. He learns nothing more. The American, on the other hand, begins at the keel, and reads up through every timber, plank ind spike, to the bul- warks. And although he does all the minor labor of the fair-day deck work with less neatness and durability, yet he will do it so well, and throw his canvass on the winds with such skill and daring, as to outsail, as well as outmanagc his very clever rival. The Fatherland should be proud of Jonathan. He is a rough, hard-featured lad ; and in right of primogeniture, as well as other indisputable relations, he must snceeeil to the paternal power over the seas. At meridijx.1, on the 16th of April, we ascertained our- selves to be about seventy-live miles from the American coast. All were weary of the voyage. It had been exceed- ingly monotonous ; not even a storm to break its tedium. At two o'clock of this day, however, we had an incident in the shape of a squall, from the northwest. It was attended with chilling winds which fell upon ns like a shower of freez- ing arrows, and drove everybody, except officers and seamen, below. The blowing, the raining, the clatter of quick feet upon deck, tlie cry of the sailors, ■' heave-a-hoy !" as they shorten sail and brace up the yards ; the heavy swells, beat- ing the ship like pondoroiis battering-rams ; the air, that up- per ocean, running its flood most furiously upon that which lies beneath ; our vessel riding the one as if escaping from the wrath of the other ; the upper surface of the airy seas, crowded vviih fleets of thunder-clouds chasing each other madly, and sending out the fire and noise of terrible conflict ! J 50 '"^'^^^ 'N Ti,. ,.Ac,r,e. winds, a, if her plan Jan, - t "'' "" ""'^^ ""d Below a. such a .L. "''^'^ ""' ^^P'^^'ing. """ -s far from b 1':::, :f"-;- ^'^«^' """■- ""' *» berths ; and wh^the 2 ' "' ""^ ™"""' '«>Wi''g at -'» hanging ,„„,^'™'*i-boac.s,de like Ian,proy. ^hip careened the othey w^v 1 I ""^' ?""«'' «». v'th its «,„r of earth and fl„2 "'"' ' "" ™'"l 'and •' edtn a whisper, has deep ll^Jf ""^ T'"^'"''^'"- "■id days been stunned by eon It '''"' '''' '■°'- '"«"'r ""I vigor of mean np ' iTT, '"'"'"' ' » ^*'«ness 'Vhite clifls on .hel"" j^' ^/^J "^ 'he horizon -""tL Cahfornia, were i„ sight ' Z li ^ ""^ ^''^' '" ^Pper • ■»:^«="ht.dow„,aLhe?beaTff"r"^ "■"""'"'- •e following „„,„(„„ '^"' off and on till ,he dawn IprUlSth. The land '.k i • -•^ left-^five .niles at^ ;^^^^^^^^^^^^ °'^ ^and, is near us on *ower,a„dthearrowyI-gr'''''^"^^^'^^'""- Cru: from muting the darkiii less n TRAVELS i N THE C A I- I K K N I A S. 51 from the Californian raountoins ! A morning of the blooming spring poured do ,vn from Heaven on this Italy of Araeri>.a ! A sunrise on the Ian J ; and the conquered night where it very properly may be. running wild over the seas ! A breeze from the west drove us slowly down the bay, so near the shore that we had a clear view of it. At the northeast corner of the bay is a green gorge, down which flows a small stream of pure vvater. Near its mouth, on a snug little plain, standstill mission of Santa Cruz, wi'diits chapel and adobie Indian huts. Around it are some fields, on which the Indians raise grains, vegetables and grapes. Beyond this, to the northward, the country swells away into lofty hills, covered with grass and sprinkled with copses of pine and oak. From Santa Cruz down to Monterey, the land is broken by low hills, too rough for general cultivation, upon whii'h grow a few trees of a soft and worthless character. E*;*^ the greenness of the whole surface in the spring of the year, and the absence of any abode of man, make it very appropria' e pfc.sture-ground for the wild horses, cattle, mules, and the grisly bears, lions and ti that herd up^n it. About five o'clock we n nd to, under the Castle of Mon- terey. The boat is lowered, the captain and part of the pas- sengers get aboard of her, and shove off for the landing. The ship meanwhile lies off and on within hail. When a hundred fathoms from the shore we are hailed by the cus- tom-house barge, and ordered back to the ship ! Whereupon a parley takes plr ce, during which we are informed that California is in a ::.tate of revolution, and that no foreigners can enter the country. I was emaciated with sea-sickness, enfeebled for want of fresh food, and altogether so miserable at the idea of not dining that day upon Californian beans and beef, that I made a desperate effort to express in Spanish the honest rage of my heart at such treatment. But having uttered French instead of Spanish WiUth, I was about correcting myse!*'; yuen a o2 8 C E N P B t .. "•"fcS IN THE PAPfr. ],, . . '""^ PACIFIC. CHAPTER IV tification-A Junto w '' '^^'^"^«^' o'" ileu-arciinc, n . ^""- On the land ' Thp u seems ,o rejoice „l,e„ i,er chill. 7' ""'""''' "-"J ^he -k her for bread and lu,,!: "" '""'' ''" "--hoid and We inquired the cause of I),.' '-y, »nd we. a„s„e J i^b^VX'^" T""'" ""= ™-- 'ookedcauUousIynroundtheXn ""'• '""' »?««■'«'■' and a white skin, M-ho dared * "" '-"^''^h 'ono-ue -"j-t. Indeed/it wLttX^^^ ""'' "'- »/ he atte,«pt was tnade, somoT , '"'• ''■»• «'henever '-'» •' And when the'ger, 'rr "r"' ^'^"""''^ "-^ ," "•g or the .o„.„, in compT" ™h f '"" ?' '^'''P '^f ">» '-.nd es.de„,. ,hegovernmemoVc*s:rfT"'""""<'«"'«h <=hangedtheconversati„n asoCa"i"f '' r™^*^-"' -•'' "'"""•■«"' "Pon what they I i I =J TRAVELS IN T IM: r A 1 r U N I A s. OtJ torr.K-d " the revolution." Men of stout hearts even spoke lidlc. Life in4)eare(l to lumgupon a l)rcath in Monterey ! We entered the house of an American merchant by the name of Larkin, andsatdownto tea. We did not eat alone ! An officer of the government sat with us ! Conversation ran on general topics. The cause of tiie apparent trepidation \v.iv inquired into by an American from the Don Quixote, h\n nothing could be elicited. The official sat erect, swelled his i)erson into dignity, ate heartily, drank deeply, rose fust j'roni the table, an intimation that we might follow his illus- trious example; burned his lingers in smoking a paprr cigar, and at length rolled his greasy form out of doors. " Rid of you at last, thank God," staid a little Englishman, who had dropped in during supper, " and now for talk inside of ceilings." We soon learned from Mr. Larkin and others, that one hundred and fifty odd Americans and Britons were thirsting and starving in the prisons of the town and destined to be sacrificed to Spanish malignity ! The question arose, Can they be saved ? It was hoped they might ; it was re- solved on our lives that they should be ; while all in a low voice spokeof the uncertainty of life foranhoiu" in Monterey! The first duty, on setting loot in California, is to report oneself to the governor, and obtain from him a written per- mission to remain in the country. This I proceeded to do. Mr. Larkin wns obliging enough to accompany me to the governor's residence. We found Ijefore it a small number of men, who were usually complinicntod with the cognomen of " guard." They consisted of five half-breed Indians, and what passed for a white corporal, lounging about the door in the manner of grog-sho]) savans. Their outer man is worth a description. They wore raw buU's-hide sandals on their feet, leathern breeches, blankets about their shoulders, and anything and everything upon their heads. Of arms, they had nothing which deserved the name. One made preten- sions with an old musket without lock ; and his four com- rades were equally heroic, with kindred pieces?, so deeply 64 M <; i: r I . i: V A I F I c rusted, that the u'usence ol' locks woukl htive been au un- portant item in estimating their vahie. We passed tliis valorous body, ascended a (light of stairs, and entered the presence of governor Juan IJaptiste Alva- rado ; a well -formed, full-bloodt-d, Californiaii Spaniard, five feet eleven inches in height, with coal-black cm ly hair, deep black eyes, fiercely black eye-brows, high cheek bones, an aquiline nose, fine wliite teeth, brown complexion, and the clearly marked mein of a pompous coward, clad in the broad-cloth aid whiskers of a gentleman. When we catered he was sitting beliind a kind of writ- ing-desk, at the farther end of the room. He rose as we entered, and received us with the characteristic urbanity of a Spanish body without a soul ; waved us to chairs, when he would have seen us tumbling from the balcony ; smiled graciously a; us with one corner of his mouth, vviiiie he cursed us with the other ; seated himself, laid up his armti and hands on the upper shelf of his abdomen, and asked if the ship had anchored ! El Gonbernador had sundry reasons for making this inquiry concerning the Don Quixote. The chief one, however, was, that he and his officers, like nil ihoir predecessors, had been in the habit of looking on the arrival of a ship in the port of Monterey as a discharge of debts and a license fornew levies on their credit. Let it not be supposed that I believe a Cali- fornian Spaniard is ever so far false to his nature, as to wish his debts paid, while his credit will supply his wants. My investigations into the character of his progenitors both In- dian and Spanish, will always preserve me from such an error. Nor would I have it believed, that the transplanted chivalry of the Andalusians does not absolutely boil and bubble, at the bare thought of not being able to plunder from the rest of mankind a gentleman's living. Any such impeach- ment of the sagacity and scrupulousness of these men would be a wrong against which my sense of justice would mc-^t vehemently protest. In plain words, then, at the time the I i ■ i "4 i TRAVELS IN THE CALIF0.TNIA8. 50 Don Quixote came into the bay, Alvaracio and liis officers were deepl} in debt, and distressed only to select means of paying thuin, accordant witli Californian honor. The arrival of a ship in port fnrnisficd just these means. The manner in which it did so maybe unworthy of specification. El Alta California is a department of the Mexican Repub- lic ; and by law the moneys collected for port-dues and duties belong to the revenue of the central government. But as the ri(;ht to life, property, and the pursuit of happiness is, among the Californian Spaniard construed to authorize both indi- viduals and vStatesto defraud, plunder and murder, if they find it safe and lucrative to do so, the freemen, or rather the Gov- ernor of California and his subalterns, were in the habit of commuting a liir<:'(: portion of the port-dues and duties, for certain suras of money and quantities of goods for their own personal use. Their capacity for this kind of plundering formed in part the basis of their credit with foreign mer- chants and traders, from whom they obtained their supplies. Hence the anxieties of Sa Excellentissimo about the bark. If she had come to anchor there must necessarily be a small chance for robbery in the tonnage dues ; and if richly laden with goods subject to duties, she would be quite a mine, which he already dreamed himself plundering with golden success. As soon as we could turn his attention from these hopes of gain, Mr. Larkin informed him of my wishes, and with much deference suggested thehnmanity of transferring me from idleness on shipboard to the enjoyment of Castilian industry ashore ; to wit, lounging, grinning, sleeping, and smoking rolls of paper tinctured with " the weed." Sa Excellentissimo found it difficult to comprehend the necessity of the request, inasmuch as the bark might come to anchor for my quiet and health, in which case I would be permitted as seamen were, to be on shore during her stay in port. But being informed that there were no goods on board the bark, that it was not intended to bring her to anchor, and that, consequently, neither bribes nor Mexican tribute would i ¥ i Hi 41 I 56 8 C E N E 8 1 i« THE V \ O I F I e . be poid to Don Juan liaptiste Alvarado, El Goubernador del Alta California, he frankly confesse:' that he saw no necessity, indicated by his interest, why I should ever have existed, and still less made any of my pleasures dependent on hira or his Alta California. This I esteemed, uj in all chivalry I was bound to do, an exhibition of the great el evation of character as well as an in- dication of the height l'^o\n which Sa Excel lentissimo had descended to reach my case ! Therefore, 1 bowed assent to the majesty of such philanthropic and truly c /ilized opinions. What man in Casiilian presence could do otherwise ? But •A doubt still hung over be eyebrows of the don. He looked at my height, six feet Green Mountain measure ; atmy ward- robe, consisting of a Hudson Bay Company's frockcoat of blue, a speckled vest from London, pants of English extrac- tion, boots from the lapstones of Lynn ; and, shrugging his shoulders like a grisly bear in ar. effort to be a gentleman, said we could go to the alcalde ; then with most sovereign emphasis bowed us oul of his presence! The alcalde was at 1 ome, or rather in his adobie den ; for there is neither a homi nor the sembliince of it in all the Spanish world. He was -aking his siesta, or midday nap, on u bull's hide in the corner of his apartment. The dog, which had barked us into his presence, had awakened him ; so tlial when we encored the room, he was rolling his burly form towards a chair. After being well-seated, and having with some difficulty brought his eyes to bear upon us, he was pleased to remark that, the weather was line, and that various other things existed in a definite state ; as that his dog was very fali the bean crop gave good promise ; the Hawaiian Islands were ten leagues from Monterey ! ! ! the Californi- ans were very brave men ; an^'. that the Don Quixote had not come to anchor ! ! To each of these announcements I gave an unqualified assent. Having asceiaini;! bv th.se mea;.s that I Avas well- mstructed in beasts, beans, assed the anchorage, making signals to her, which neither himself nor those on board understood, created the idea that he was an official of the American Government, and as such, had rights which it would be well to respect. This impression was much strengthened, both by the accidental circumstance of bis wearing a cutlass with an eagle upon its hilt, and his holding restraints imposed on his acts as highly insulting and disrespectful ! This course of con- duct had the effect designed. Tliose cowardly apologies of ill L. 60 SCENES IN ins. 1 A C J F I C men became (horoughly impressed that ho bore in his own person the combined powers of the Araoiican Republic and the British Empiic. Chilhcd, therefore, with inUhority so potent, he took nieiisures for the relief of the prisoners. But, before enterini^ ujion iheniwation of ihese measures, it will be proper to o;ive ;i history of the events which led to theiraprisonmentofthe.se men, iind thcirintended immolation. In 1836, a Mexican General by the name of Echuandra was the Commandant General of li})per California. Some years previous, as will he ])articularly shown in another place, ho had come up fioni j\Ie.\ico, witli a band of fellow- myrmidons, and having received the submission of tin- coun- try to the authorities of that Republic, eominenced robbin^Jf the Government ibr wliich he acted, and the several inte- rests which he had been sentto piotecl. Nothing escaiwjd his mercenary clutches. The people, the missions, and the revenue were robbed indiscriminately, as opportunity offered. A few of the white pojjulaiion of the country par- ticipated in these acts. But generally the Cnlifornians v.erc the sufferers; and, as is always the case with nnhonored rog^ues, raised a perpetual storm of indignation about the dishonest deeds of those w hom they desired to supplant, for the purpose of enacting the same things. An occurrence of this kind was the immediate cause of the Revolution in 1830. A vessel had cast anchor in the harbor of Monterey. Gen- eral Echuandra, not having that honorable coniSlenre in the immaculate integrity of the custom-house officers, which thievesareacatstoinedtolia vein one another, placed a guard on board the craft, to prevent them from receiving bribes for their own exclusive I)cncrit. To this the oilicers demurred ; and in order'to fnH>. their territory from the creatures of one whose conscience would compel him to receive bribes for his own pocket instead of theirs, they sent their own clerk, a young rascal of the country, by the name of Juan Baptiste Alvaradojto infcrm the general that it was improper to sug- gest, by putting a guard on board, that the officers of the ship T R A. V li I- S IN i' U li C A I. I F R N I A S . 61 w !iich lay under the fort, either intended or dared attempt, to evade the payment of duties ! ! 'I'he General, however, was too well acquainted with his iualien.ible rights, to he wheedled out of them in this man- ner; and manifested his indignation toward the clerk, for attempting to abtrude his plebeian presence on his golden dream, by ordering him to be put in irons. Alvarado, how- ever, escaped. He fled into the country, rallied the farmers, who still loved the descendants of Philip the Second mere than El PresidentCy and formed a camp at the Mission of San Juan, thirty miles eastward from Monterey. Near this mission lived an old Tennessean by the name of Graham ; a stout, sturdy backwoodsman, of a stamp which exists only on the frontiers of the American States — men with the blood of the ancient Normans and Saxons in their veins — with hearts as large as their bodies can hold, beating nothing but kindness till injustice shows its fangs, and then, lion-like, stiiking for vengeance. This trait of natural character had been fostered in Graham by the life he had led. Early trained to the use of the rifle, he had learned to regard it as his friend and protector ; and when the season of manhood arrived, he threw it upon his shoulder and sought the wilderness, where he could enjoy its protection and be fed by its faithful aim. He became a beaver hunter — a cavalier of the wilderness — that noble specimen of brave men who have muscles for rid- ing wild horses and warring with wild beasts, a steady brain and foot for climbing the icy precipice, a strong breast for the mountain torrent, an unrelenting trap for the beaver, a keen eye and a deadly shot for a foe. A man ,vas this Gra- ham, who stood up boldly before his kind, conscious of pos- sessing physical and mental powers adequate to any emer- gency. He had a strong aversion to the olcgant edifices, the furniture, wardrobe, and food of polished life, coupled with a vivid love of mountain sublimity, the beautiful herbage on unrultivated districts, the wild animals and the streams nf water roaring down the frozen heights. Even the grey 10 ,ft 62 S C K N K S IN T II i: 1> A C I F I V deserts with the hunger and thirst incident to travelling over them, had wild and exciting charms for him. On these his giant frame had obstacles to contend with worthy of its powers; suffering and even old Death himself to take by the throat and vanquish. These and the open air by a pro- jecting rock, with the dry sand or the green sward for a hearth and couch, a crackling pine knot fire blazing against the cliffs, and roasting a buffalo hump or the sirloin of an elk, after the day's hunt had ended, constituted the life he was fitted to enjoy. He had forced his way over the Rocky Mountains and located himself in Upper California. This country was suited to his tastes. Its climate allowed him to sleep in the open air most of the year; an abundance of native animals covered the hills, and nature w^as spread out luxuriantly everywhere, in wild and untrodden freshness. As I have said, this brave man resided near the mission of San Juan. He had erected there a rude dwelling, and a dis- tillery. On the neighboring plans he herded large bands of horses, mules and cattle. To this fine old fellow Alvarado made known his peril and designs ; whereupon the foreign- ers assembled at Graham's summons, elected him their cap- tain, am Englishman by the name of Coppinger, lieutenant, and repaired to San Juan. A council was held between the clerk and the foreigners. The former promised, that if by the aid of the latter he should successfully defend himself against the acting governor, and obtain possession of the country, it should be declared independent of Mexico ; and that the law, which incapacitated foreigners from holding real estate, should be abioj^ '-^d. The foreigners agreed, on these conditions, to aid Alvarauo to the utmost of their power. The next morning the united forces, fifty foreigners and twenty-five Californians, marched against Monterey. They entered the town in the afternoon of the same day, and took up their position in the woods, one hundred rods in the rear of the castello or fort. No event of importance "1 T R A V r, I. S IN THE (J A I. I F R ^' t A 9 . 63 nceuned till the night tame on, when the awe with which darkness sometimes inspires even the bravest minds, fell with such overwhelming i)ower on the valorous garrison, that notwi.hstanding they were supported by the open mouths of the guns, the barking of their dog, the roar of the surf, and the hooting of an owl on a neighboring tree-top, they were absolutely compelled to forsake the ramparts, for the more certain protection of unmolested flight! Graham and his men perceiving the discomforture of their enemies, availed themselves of their absence by taking pos- session of the evacuated fort. Alvarado, meantime, actuated, it is to be presumed, by a desire to save life and a philosophi- cal conviction of the dangers incident to bullets rendered crazy by burning powder, restrained the fiery ardor of his twenty-five Californians, and held his own person beyond the reach of harm, in case some lui kless horse or cow stray- ing over hostile ground on that memorable night, should scare the fleeing garrison into an act of defence. The next morning he and his brave men were found peering from their hiding-places in a state of great anxiety and alarm! A battle had almost been begun in Monterey ! The blood of their enemies had almost begun to fatten the soil of Cul- fornia! They themselves had nearly stepped in blood knee deep, among the carcasses of the hated Mexicans ; the be- som of destruction had shaken itself, and had barely missed commencing the havoc of bone and flesh, which would have crushed every mote of Mexican life within their borders ! Thus they gloried among the bushes ! ! Old Graham stood at sunrise on the earth embankments of the Castello. A hunting shirt of buckskin, and pants of the same material, covered his giant frame ; a slouched broad-brimmed hat hung aroand his head, and half covered his large, quiet, determined face ! In his right hand he held his rifle, the tried companion of many fearful strifes among the savages ! Four or five of his men sat on a dis- mounted thirty-two pounder, querying whether they could 64 8 C K N t S IN 1 H E PACIFIC. repair its woodwork so as t(» bring it to bear on the Presi(io or government house. Others stood by a bucket of water, swabbing out tlieir rille barrels, and cleaning and drying the locks. Others of them were cookmg beef; others whittling, swearing, and chewing tobacco. About nine o'clock /lags of truce began their onerous duties. Alvarado came from the woods and took part in the councils. Theinsurgentsdemandcd the surrender of the Gov- ernment ; whereat the cavaliers of the Preside considered themselves immeasurabi) insulted. Two days were passed in this parleying without advancing theinterestsof eitherpartv. They were days big witii the fate of the future ; and who could weary under their drcadlul burthens ? Not such men as Alvarado. lie bore himself like the man he was, through all the trying period. He uniformly preferred delay to fight- ing ! He was sustained in this preference by his right hand villain. Captain Jose Castro. Indeed, it was the unanimous choice of the whole Californian division of the insurgent forces, to wit, the twenty-five before mentioned, to massacre time instead of men. Fornotasina;Ie one of them manifested the slightest impatience or insubordination under the delay — a fact which perhaps demonstrates the perfection of military discipline in California ! The foreigners diflfered from their illustrious allies. Graham thought "two days and two nights a waitin' on them baars* was enough." Accordingly, taking the responsibility on himself, after the manner of his distin- guished fellow-statesman, he sent a flag to the Preside with notice that two hours only would be given the Governor and his officers to surrender themselves prisoners of vvar. The demand of the old Tennessean, however, was disre- garded. The appointed time passed without the surrender. Forbearance was at an end. The lieutenant of Graham's rifle corps was ordered to level a four pound brass piece at the Presido. A ball was sent through its tiled roof, imme- diately over the heads of the Mexican magnates ! ♦ Bears. T B A V t L 8 IN THE C A 1, I F R N I A 8 . 65 It is wonderful how small a portion of necessity mmglerl will, human affairs will quicken men's perceptions of duty. No sooner did the broken tiles rattle aroumlthe bonds o( these valiant warriors, than they became sud'lenly convinced iliiit il would be exceedingly hazardous to continue their resi>i:iin'e against such an overwhelminj; force; and that the central government at Mexico would not bo so unreasonable as to ex- pect four or five hundred troops to hold out against Lns Riflc- ros Americanos. This view of the case, taken through the shattered roof of the Presidio, was conclusive. They sur- rendered at discretion ! Alvarado marched into the citadel of government ! The Mexican troops laid down their arms ! The emblems of office were transferred to the custom-house clerk ! When these things had transpired, General Ec.'.iian- dra was pleased to say to Alvarado with the most exalted good sense, " had we known that we were thrice as many as you, we should not have surrendered so soon ;" thereby de- monstrating to the future historian del Alia California that he and his friends would either have fought the seventy-five with their five hundred or protracted the siege of bravado much longer, had they be'jnableto count the said seventy-five at the distance or five hundred yards, during the lapse of two days! Difficulties in the use of optics often occur in Cali- fornian warfirc which are not treated of in the books. The end of this revolution came ! The schooner Clarion of New Bedford was purchased, and the Mexican officers ship- ped to San Bias. Juan Bapfiste Alvarado customs' clerk proclaimed El Alta California an inde|>endent republic, and himself its govenor. But more of this on a subsequent page. It sidlices ray present purpose to have shown how far this Al- varado was indebted to the foreigners dying in his prisons for the station and power which he was using for their desruc- tion. He could never have obtained possession of Monte- rey without them. And had they not slept on their rifles f:)r months after that event, a party in the south under his uncle Don Carlos Carrillo, or another in the north under his i 66 SCENES IN THE 1' A C 1 F IC uncle Guadaloupe Viojo, would have torn him from his ill- gotten elevation. Thus upper California became an independent state, and Alvarado its governor. The central government at Mexico was of course much shocked at sucii unpolished, ungloved impudence; threatened much, and at last in September, 1S37, induced Alvarado to buy a ship, send despatches to Mexico, and become El Goubernador Constitutioncl del JlUa California^ associated with his uncle Viejo, as Commandante General. Alter this adhesion to the Mexican Governmeni, Alvarado became suspicious of the foreigners who had aided him in the " Revolution," and sought every means of an- noying them. They might depose him as they had done Echuandra. And if vengeance were always a certain conse- quent of injustice, he reasoned well. The vagabond had promised, in the day of his need, to bestow lands on those who had saved his neck and raised him to power. This he found conveni(;i»t to forget. Like Spaniards of all ages and countries, after having been well ^;erved by his friends, he rewarded them i llie most heartls.ss ingratitude. Graham in partu ular was closely watched. A bold open- handed man, never concealing for an instanteither his love or hatred, but with the frankness and generosity of those great souls, rough-hewn but majestically honest, who be- long to the valley States, he told the Governor his sins from time to time, and demanded in the authoralive tone of an elder and affectionate brother, that he should redcom his pledges. The good old man did not remember that a Span- iard would have lost his nationality had he done so. A Spaniard tell the truth ! A Spaniard ever grateful for ser- vices rendered him ! He should have knocked at the tombn of Columbus and Cortes, and every other man who eve- served that contemptii)le race. lie wouhl have learned the truth, and gathered wisdom from it. lie asked for justic*? md received what we shall presently see. Graham loved a horse. He had taken a fine gelding with T u A V K I, tf IV 1 n r: c a i. i k o u m i a a. fi7 tiiin when he (Miiigruteil lo tlie country, and traino.l liim for iht; turt". Every year lie had challfiigcd the whole country lo the course, ami as often won every! hin^ vvumired iii^aiiist his noble steed. Jose ('a>«lro, a villain with a lean body, dark face, black niustachios, pointed nose, llabby cheeks, uneasy eyes, and hands and heart so foul as instinctively to require a Spanish cloak, in all sorts of weather, to cover ihein, and his Excellent issimo were among Graham's heavi- est debtors. IJehold the reasons of their enmity. Another cause of the general feelings against the Ameri- cans ;tnd Jirilons in California was the fact that the Senoritas, the dear ladies, in the plenitude of their taste and sympathy for foreigners, preferred them as husbands. Hence Jose Castro was heard to declare a little before the arrest of the Americans and Britons, that such indignities could not be borne by Castilian blood ; " for a (^alifornicin Cavaliero can- not woo a Senorita if opposed in his suit by an American sailor, and these heretics must be ch'ared from the land." Such were the causes operating to arouse the wrath and ripen the patriotism of the Californians. The vengeance of baiHed gallantry bit at the car of C;iptain Jose Castro ; the fear of being brought to justice by Graham, tugged at the liver of Alvar; do ; and love the keenest, and hate the bitterest, in a soul the smallest that v.as ever entitled to the breath of life, burnished the little black eyes and inflamed the little thin noso of one Corporal Pinto. These were the worthies who projected the onslaught on the foreigners. Their plan of operation was the shrewdest one ever con- cocted in California. Since the " Revolution" of '36 the Californian Spaniards had been convinced that the Americans and Britons were vastly their superiors in courage and skill in war. From the beginning, therefore, it was apparent that if they were to get one or two hundred of these men into their power, it must be ilone by stratat;(MK. Accordingly, Graham's annual challenge for the spring races in 1810, was conveniently con- 08 8 C E N K .S IN THE T A C I F I C . sJrned into a disguised attempt to gather his friends for the purpose of overthrowing Alvarado's Government. This siig gestion was made to the minor loading interests, civil ond military, and a Junto was formed for the safety of the State : or in plain truth, for the gratilicalion of the several personal enmities and jealousies of half a dozen scoundrels, who, disregarding the most sacreil pledges to their friends, would rob them of their property and sacrifice their lives. This Junto marshalled their forces at Monterey, and adopted the following plan for accomplishing their fiendish designs : — Tlie soldiers were detailed into corps of two, three and four in number, to which were attached several civilized Indians. These bands were secretly sent to the abodes of the foreigners, with instructions to convey them with disj)atch before the Alcaldes of the neighboring mis- sions. This they accomplished. The victims, on receiving information that the Alcaldes desired to see thetn, repaired to their presence, willingly, and without suspicion of evil intentions against them. As soon, however, as they arrived, they were loaded with irons, and cast into the loathsome cells of these establishments in which the Padres formerly confined their disobedient converts !• Thus, one by one, they succeeded in arresting one hundred and sixty odd Americans and Britons — brave old trappers, mechanics, merchants, whalemen and tars — men who, if em- bodied under Graham, with their rifles in their hands, could have marched from San Francisco to San Lucas ; conquered nine hundred miles of coast, and held the Government of the country in spite of the dastards who were oppressing them. Hut they were caught in a net skilfully thrown over them, and were helpless. After each man was bolted safely in his dungeon, the harpies proceeded to his house, violated his family, plundered his premises, and drove away his live stock as private booty — the reward of the brave ! Having in this manner collected these unhappy men in ne prisons of the several missions, Alvaratlo and Castro I,- ::!-:- s-'^tisS^r^ Monterey, California. — P. flU. San Francisco, California. — P. 69. 11 ffi T R A V i: I. S IN 1 II i: C A I. I K U N I A 69 iran'hed ilieir whole disposable force to one mission after »noinet and brought them in heavy irons, a few at a time, to the Government dungeons at Monterey ! The names of r-omc of tliesc men, together with their places of residence in California, which I happened to pre- serve, are given below. Those who lived near the mission of San Francisco Bay, were, Lewis Pollock, John Vermillion, William McGlone, Daniel Sill, George Frazer, Nathaniel Spear, Captain Mc- Kenley, Jonathan Fuller, Captain Beechay. Those who resided at El Piuldo San Jose, were William Blirkin, George Fergusson, Thomas Thomas, William Lang- leys, Jonathan Mirayno, William Weeks, Jonathan Coppm- ger, Williuui Ilauts, Charles Jirown, Thomas Tomlisoi,, Richard Westlake, Janus Peace, Robert McCrdlister, Tho- mas Bovven, Elislia Perry, Nathan Daily, Robert Livermore, William Gulenack, Jonathan Marsh, Peter Storm, Job Dye, William Smith, Jonathan Warner, and two Frcnchmer. Those from Santa Cruz, were, William Thompson^ James Burncs, F. Eagle, Henry Knighl, Jon.ithan Lucas, George Chapel, Henry Cooper, Jonathan Hervcn, James Lowyado, Francisco, LaGrace, Michael Lodge, Josiali Whitehouse, Robert King. From Nadvada, Graham's neighborhood, wore, Isaac Grahaia, Daniel Goff, William Burton, Jonathan Smith, and Henry Niel. Those residents at Selenias, were, William Chard, James O'Brien, William Brotidn, William Malthas, Thomas Cole. Thcnas Lewis, William Ware, and James Majoiis. In Monterey, were, Leonard Carmichael, Edward Wat- son, Andrew Watson, Henry McVicker, H. Hathaway, Henry Bee, Wiiliam Trevavan, Jonathan Maynard, William Henderson, James Meadows, Jonathan H Mark West, G( :orge Rcnlocl', J(H'miidi Jon'js, Jonatl iggms Cham be iim, Daniel Joseph Bowles, James Kellcy, James Fair- well, Waller Adams, Mr. Ilorton, James Attervillc, Mr. 70 » r i: N K 8 IN T II K PACIFIC, Jones, Jonathan Christian, William Chay, William l)ick»y, Charles Williams, Alvan Willson. CHAPTER V. THE PniSONHES. Forty-one of the prisoners whose names appear on the concluding pages of tlie last Chapler, furnislied me wilh written accounts of tiieir arrest, and subsequent (realinent. Believing tliat the reader will be more inleresteil in these, than in any abstract that could be made of tliein, I will trans- cribe a few wliich best illustrate this barbarous persecution. " I, Isaac Graham, a citizen of the United States of Ame- rica, came across the continent to ralifornia, with a pass- port from the Mexican authorities of Chihualnn, and o'n- taincd from the (jeneral commanding in Upper California, a license to run a liistillcry in that country, for the term of eight years ; this business I have followed since that time. "On the sixth of April last (ISIO) there ajjpeared to be mischief brewing. But what it would prove to be, none of us could tell. The Calitornian Spaniards trav«dle(! iisu;d!y much al)out the country; and conversed with the foreigners rather shyly. They had threatened to drive tis out of ralifor- nia several times ; and we tried to guess whether they were at last preparing to accomplish it. Hut from what we saw it was impossible to form a satisfactory » onclusion. " On the same day, however, Jose Castro, Uieenta Con- trine, Ankel Castro, and a runaway Botany Bay English C(m- vict,bythe name of Garner, a vile fellow, and an cne'.ny ot mine, because the foreigners would not elect him their cip- lain, passed and repasseil my house several times, and con- T tt A V K !, H IN T II K C A I. I K O H N I A S . 71 versed togcllior in low (ones of voice. I sfopped Jose Cas- Iro, and asked him what wastlic niattrr. Ih; replied that he was goinu; to niiirch ;»ij;ainst the (^oinrnatuhintc General Viei^o, at San Kranciseo, to depose liiin from tlu^ coinitiaiid of the forces. His two companions tnadn the same assertion. I knew that Alvarado was afraid of Vieiro, and (liat Jose Castro was ainhitions for his place; an'ace. I had heanl tiie same threat made a nuinher of times within the past year, hut it resulted in nothino-. IJelievirig, therefore, that (larnci's words proceeded from the whisky he had drunk, rath(>r than the truth, I left him in the yard, and in company with my partner, Mr. Niel, wen! (o hed. Messrs. Morris and IJar- toii, as usual, took to (heir couches in tlu? still-hoii^e. " We slept (piielly, until ahout three o'clock in the morn- ing, when I was awakened hy the discharge of a |)ist()l near my head, the hall of which passed through the handkerchief ahout my neck. I sprang to my feet, and jumped in the direction of the villains, when they discharged six other pistols, so near i> Miat my shirt took fire in several places. Fortunately, the darkness and tin* trepidation of the cow- ards ])revrnted their taking good aim; for only one of their shots took elfeil, and (hat in my left arm. " After firing they fell hack a few paces and commenced reloading their pieces. I perceive hy the light of their pis- tols that they w'errsnri« arrived who asked for lodgings. Mr. Graham told them they might find quarters with us in the distillery. They dismounteil and took bed with me and Mr. Barton ; and Messrs. Graham and his partner Ntil took their bed in the house, about thirty yards distant from us. " Notliing >ccurr('d to disturb us until about three o'clock inthemorninsT- wbm, being awakened I'S ?• loud krvocking at the tiistillery uoor, I sprang out of my bed, anc asked who ■'■\ li [ 1^ 74 SCEIfEB IN THE PACIFIC. was there ? No answer being returned, I repeated the ques- tion in a stern voice, when a man outside replied, ' Nicholas Alviso.' He being a near neighbor I answered, ' very well,* and told one of those present to light a candle. But while this w as being done, a number of people outside called out, ' Where is Graham ] Tear the devil in pie^^es !' and immr- diatel y afterward rushed with great violence against the door. I (old them to wait a moment, but they cried out with still greater clamor for Graham, and seemed to rush toward the house w here he slept. Quite a number, however, remained at the distillery, beating at the door in a savage manner and threatening death to the inmates. 1 drew my pistols, and at that instant Nicholas Alviso called aloud for all hands to beat down the door. On they came against it ; I fired ; and they returned the fire and wounded me in the left side. I then seized my ritle and snapped it at them ; they retreated, and I escaped into the swamp in the rear of Graham's house. After concealing myself among the bushes, I saw fifteen or twenty men with drawn swords making most deadly blows at Messrs. Graham and Neil. I heard Ankel Castro give orders to hew them down ; Garner urged them to do the same. " I remained in the swamp till late the next night, when I walked eight miles to the farm of Mr. Littlejohn, where I remained two days. Then, with an Indian to guide nie, I rode to the mission of Santa Cruz on the north side of Monterey B;\y. Here I called at the houses of Messrs. Dye and Young ; told them what had happened, and went up •iuiong (he hills for safety. " On the sixteenth, Francisco Young came to me and said, that Captain Hurlinen had come after me with a company of rillemen. He assured me that I should not be put to death or manacled if I surrendered myself wi(hout resistance. I con- cluded after some hesitation to do so, and followed him down to Mr. Dye's distillery. There I found Captain Burlinen, with eleven Californians, armed with the rifles which they had taken from the Britons and Americans. After obtaining a IU=_ 1' ' U i TRAVELS IN THE CALIF0KNIA8, t •> promise from the captain that my life should not be taken and that I should not be pot in irons or otherwise bound, I delivered my rifle to him and became his prisoner. I wns then marched down to the Mission of Santa Cru/ between the soldiers, and put under guard until the next morniiiEj. " Soon after sunrise on the seventeenth they began pre- parations for taking me to Monterey. I had, when escap- ing from Graham's premises, left most of my clothing, and not knowing in what this affair might end, T desired the captain to take me by that route. To tiiis he consented. But it was of no service to me ; for I found both my port- manteaus broken open and all my clotliing stolen. Mr. NitI was in the house. He luul I'-'n badly wounded in the af- fray of the sixth. A lante I. ! lieen thrust through his thigh, and a deep sabre cut inllieted upon the leg. He told me that the Botany Bay Garner did it. I saw several balls sticking in the walls of the bedroom in which Mr. Niel lay. The floor was much stained with blood. The pre- mises had been plundered. We stayed at Graham's house an hour, and proceeded towards Monterey. "I arrived in town the next day. It was occupied by sol- (hers, and the prisons fdled with foreigners. They immedi- ately put me in double-irons, and carried me before a body of men who pretended to act as a court of justice. I desired that Mr. Spence, the alcalde, might be sent for as an inter- preter. But they would not allow it. They said I must be content with the one they had provided. His name w:is Nariago. He was by no means capable of the task. But I was compelled to take him or none, and go into the exami- nation. I was sworn ; and then the interpreter said it w;'s well known that I had been writing letters against the gov- ernment. I asked him to produce the letters, that I mipht see them. He replied, ' that it is not necessary.' He then said that Mr. Graham was at the head of an attempted revo- lutionary movement against the government, and \]\\\\ T knew something about it. I replied that I had never heard 12 H 5 , i| Ii I* I N 76 SCENES IN THE I'ACIFIC Mr. Graham suggest anything of llie kind. I said that he had expressed a determination to represent to the governor the shameful treatment of Mr. Iliggins ; and the outrage upon the foreigners while they were burying their country- men at Santa Barbara ; and particuhirly the monstrous deed of digging him up after burial, and leaving his corpse naked above ground. I confessed I had ofTered lo go with him to the governor for that purpose. "The interpreter then asked why I fired on the people at Graham's distillery. I answered that I did it in self defence. He inquired how that could be. I told liim, as it was impos- sible for nie in the night time to see those who made the as- sault on the distiller} , I could not know whether they were the authorized agents of (be government, or robbers whom it was my duty to resist. My life was at stake, and I fought for it, as they would have done under like circumstances. It was next asked why I did not seek redress from the govern- ment, if I supposeil them robbers. I said that I had no time to do 80 between their attempts to kill me and my own neces- sary acts to prevent them ; and that if I had had opportunity I had no assurance, under the circumstances, that govern- ment would protect me. This last answer was translated with some embellishnjents; and the interpreter informed me it was considered highly insulting to the governor. I answered that no insult was intended, but that I was under oath, and could not vary from the truth. I was then asked whv 1 lied to Santa Cruz. My reply was that I hud lost all confidence ia the justice of the government, and flew to the wildf.'rness for protection. At this tlie alcalde was greatly incensed, or- dered my answers to be reduced to writing, and commanded me to affix my name to them, together with the additions which their desire for an excuse to destroy me induced them to append. I stated that I did not suppose myself obliged to place my signature to an instrument written in a lan- guage which I could not read. I signed it with swords over my head. What the paper contained I never knew. '.! M 'U Judge Hopkinaon, Author of Hail Columbia.— F. 77. T It A V K I, S I N r II 1. (; A I. I r O II N I A i4 . 77 Tljcy would Clot iillow me to aticMnpt to read it. Tlu! ex- amination beinj^ emlcd, tliey look me to the fort and placed me under a strong j^uard for tlic ni<>lit. The next day, the nineteenth of April, they man hed iric under escort of a company of infantry into the public j^reen, hefrjrt; the gov- ernment hou.s«', to hear prayers. After which, 1 have no doubt, they intended to shoot me, but were prevented from doing it llirou^li the fear of Mr. ." I have otiuir interesting narratives showing the most in- human conduct in the Governor of Upper California, while* 'trresting these Americans and Britons, which I must pass for want of space. There is one, however, that reltrs more especially to the causes which brought many of them into a country where they were subject to such merciless usage, that I cannot |)revail on myself to omit. It is a saying among seamen that when a ship doubles Cape Horn " the rope's end and shackles are the Old Man's argument." Sailors in those seas are often glad even to escape from a bloody deck to the chances of dungeons and rapiers in the Californias. ^ i I " I left the American ship Hope, of Philadelphia, in Ma- nilla, and there being no chance of getting n passage to the United States from that place, I went passenger to Macao, in the ship Rasselas, of Boston, commanded by Captain ♦*♦•••. On my arrival there, all his crew having left him, Captain •***•• asked me to ship on board his vessel for a voyage. I u and some others agreed to do so on these conditions : that if after serving one month, while the ship lay in that port, we did not like it, we were to be at liberty to leave her. When the month was up we all requested to go on shore. But he said all might {jo except William Warren, Robert Mc A lister, and myself. We were accordingly detained on board. No boat from the shore was allowed to come alongside for fear we should escape. After a short time the ship proceeded on her voyage to Kamschatka. And in this way were we forced to go without signing articles, and contrary to our aj^reernent. Si u IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) v. /. i/. (.0 1.1 I 1.25 ■50 ■^~ ■ 4.0 ■ 2.2 US It! lit !4 lllllii^ y % >> ^^* ■> >* Hiotographic Sciences Corporation 23 WIST 'AiN STRIET WEBSTIh.N.Y. 1<''9S0 ('(4 S72-4503 4ko V.i > SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. One day when my watch was at work on deck the captain came along and said I was not sewing the sail right ; and I said I thought I was; when he kicked me over the eye with a hvrge heavy shoe he had on at the lime. And when the pain made me start to my feet, with the blood running down my i'ace, he said that I wanted to kill him with a knife, and im- mediately had me put (hands and feet) in irons. I remained so for half an hour; when the captain, ordering me to be tied up to the main-rigging, and taking his knife from his pocket, cut the shirt ofFmy back, and gave me t\vo dozen lashes with his own hand. After this I vvas taken down and thrown in the longboat among the hogs, and fed on bread and water for a fortnight. In this situation I suffered very much. For I was ironed hand and foot, the weather was extremely cold, and I was without shirt, shoes and slockings. At the end of the two weeks the ship arrived in port, and I was taken ont of the longboat. My feet, too, were stripped of their fetters ; they were swelled so much that it was with difficulty I could walk. I was kept manacled at the wrists till the ship had got underway out of the harbor. After she had passed the fort the captain ordered a boat lowered and sent me ashore on a barren place, where it was impossible for me to go to the settlement without a boat, and left me with the irons on my hands. In this situation I spent two days and nights on the beach without food or water, when I was picked up by a man who gave me a passage in a canoe to the settlement. Here I had to work hard for my victuals. After nine months the schooner Clementine, of New York, arrived, and I asked Captain to take me out of the country, but he refused. I then went to Ohotsk, thinking to go overland to St. Peters- burg ; finding a vessel there from the States, however, I wanted to ship in her, but vas detained by the Russian government, and forced to work for the Russian American Fur Company the two following years. After having been forced to bear the rigors of two Siberian winters, without much clothing, and to serve as a slave for two and a half years, T R A V l: L S IN T H K C A L I K K N IAS. 79 I got a passage to Sitka, Northwest America, where, after five months' working for the Russians, I was permitted to go away in the brig Baicaland was discharged in San Francisco. " JoH\ Warner, of Scotland." 9 11 The next event in this poor fellow's life was his impri- sonment in California. His sufferings there were scarcely less than those he had enilured elsewhere. The names of his companions at Macao appear in the list of prisoners which was given in the previous chapter. The 19th was an exciting day. More of my countrymen and others, allied by the blood of a common ancestry, were arriving from the interior in irons. As soon as they came in town they were taken in front of the prisons, pulled vio- 1' ntly from their horses by Indians, and frequently much bruised by the fall. Their tormentors then searched them, took forcible possession of their money, knives, Hints, steels, and every other little valuable about their persons, and thrust them into prison. About eleven o'clock, A. M., the American called on the governor to learn the cause of this treatment, and was informed that there had been considera- ble conversation among the prisoners for months past, about " being abused by the government," and that threats had been made about " going to the governor for justice," and other things of that kind, which rendered ti necessary for the peace of the country to get them out of it, or into their graves. The American replied, that the treaty stipulations between the governments of the United States and Mexico required the autb.orities of each country to treat the citizens of the other with kindness and justice. His Excellentissimo replied, that the government of the Californias would not be restrained in its action by treaties which the central government might make; and that if the department of the Californias sho' 'd violate such compact with the United States, that government would seek redress from Mexico ; that the Californian government was the mere ^>i ./I' »i 80 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC, jigent of the Central government, and therefore not respon- sible to other nations for its administration. The Mexican government alone had a right to complain of its acts. The American replied, that the department of the Califor- nias being an integral part of the Mexican nation, any inju- ry which its authorities should inflict on the persons and rights of other nations might well be redressed on the persons and property of the Californias. The Governor answered, that he thought not. He was then asked, what he supposed an American or British fleet would do, if one should at that time anchor at Monterey? This question startled the miserable tyrant. That spectral fleet outside, its reputed commander in his very presence, and the constant plying of the Don Quixote between him and his armament, seemed for i. moment to come before him, like a fearful reality. Perceiving the impression made upon him, the American took advantage of the occasion to remark, that it would be necessary for the Californian government to bring the persons then in confinement to a speedy trial for any alleged misdemeanor, or set them at liberty without trial, at a very early day; for the American government and its citizens required him, and would, if necessary, compel him, in this instance at least, to do an act of strict justice. The quiet and firm tone of this address threw his Excel- lentissimo into a most sublime rage. He ordered the guards to fire on the American, and strode through his apartment, bellowing fearfully, and raising a very dense cloud of dust ! The American, meanwhile, knowing that Californian noise boded little danger, stood quietly awaiting the termination of the tumult. It ceased after a while, and mildly saying to the governor, that he had only to repeat, that the pris- oners must be tried and lawfully condemned or set at liberty, and that soon, he walked through the guards and returned to his lodgings. He had not been at home more than an hour when a message arrived from Don Jose Castro, Alva- rado's captain, advising him not to appear in the streets r:!.! TRAVELS I II THE CALIFORNIA S. 81 acrain, for he feared that his life would be taken by the sub afterns of the insulted governmert ! ! This message was intended to prevent him from appear- ing before the grates, and encouraging the prisoners to bear their sufferings like men worthy their high extraction ; and also to deter him from interfering with the unholy purposes of the Government against their lives. It failed of its object. His reply was, thac he did not at that time com[)rc'henil llu' necessity of Captain Castro's anxieties in regard to him, and that as he should have business in the streets about sunset, those who felt disposed would have an opportunity at that time to make any demonstrations congenial with their feel- ings. At sunset he walked down to the prisons, heard again through the grates the cries of their tenants for air and water, and returned to Mr. Larkin's, to pass a miserable night — a night of unavailing compassion. The next day he went into two of the cells, took the names and residence of a portion of the prisoners, and learn- ed their general condition. They had nothing on which In sleep or sit except the wet ground ; were emaciated, pale and sickly ; some of them could scarcely walk to the grate (o g t fresh air; one could not stand, and his fellows from time to time held him up to breathe ! They said in their despair, that they could keep hope alive as long as he dared to walk frequently befo'o the prison, for his presence obtained them better treatment from their enemies, and encouraged the more desponding to expect through him deliverance from their sufferings! Graham's cell was under a double guard. It could not be approached. People were even forbidden to pass it. I oc- casionally approached near enough to hear the lion-hearted old man roar out his indignation. A great and brave soul had that man. Its best energies had been bestowed on tiie ingrate Alvarado. He had made the rascal into a gover- nor ; and this was the beginning of his reward. The afternoon was spent in much perplexity by the officers 13 T» ■^ been injured in this manner, with- out p(!r.sonal resistance, until all hope of retribution from the ft'dcral ^;overnni!Mit, and every prospect of better morals on the part of the: r()l)l)ers, h;id lorsaken them, have taken the club into tlieir own hands : and tlu; runied Indian and white man put on the red i)aint of battle, band together, make incursions .miong the covyards of Santa Fe, and even cross the niounlains, iind lay tribute upon the mules and horses of the Californians. Such were the Indians whoscpresencecreat(M] the idarmut Monterey. They number- ed about, fifty. And the vagabond gox ornment well knew that those fifty rillos if brou'^ht upon tiictown at that time would send every poliroon oi' tliem to tluir last rest. No wonder, then, that there was quaking at Monterey. Old scores and la- ter ones would have been lu'danctd, if those men had dream- ed that Americans and IVitons were in the pn'sonsof Monterey. It was suo^i^estcd l)y several persons that the prisoners would be shot durini; the week without tiial. Acting upon this hint the American intimated to some of the more pru- dent and intelligent among them, his willingness to aid them in breaking prison, taking the town, and disposing of the authorities at rope's end, if they did not give them a fair trial within three days thereafter. These propositions in- spired them with such now life, or rather so kindled into action the little that was left in them, that those who had strength enough to make themselves heard, struck up "Hail Columbia," and " Rule Britannia," with a fervor that at intervals choked their utterance ! I never before felt the force of these national songs. The night was still! Scarcely a sound was heard save the heavy surf beating on the rocks of Puentos Pinos. I walked around the prisons till eleven o'clock, to the peril of life, in- deed, but in the enjoymentof feelings dearer than life itself. T a A V n !. s I N r w :; r a i. i j o ii :. i a s . sr " Hail Columbia !" I wish my rei\ and crow- ed terribly; the pullets cackled ; and altogether, the commotion surprised our horses into a general snort, and ourselves into a laugh, prolonged and loud as our lungs could sustain, at such a welcome to the residence of the only professional lawyer in the Californias ! We rode up briskly in the midst of this cackling, crowing and barking, and dismounted before the door of a tolerably comfortable hut, in the standing presence of the brown, flat- nosed, broad-cheeked, ragged Indian Esquire. His head was bare, his leathern pants full of holes antj glazed with grease, his blanket hung in tatters. His wife hobbled out as blind as a fire-dog, and decrepid with years and hard labor. One or n 102 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC, two other Indians stood about among the hens and ducks, grinning and squinting at us in much wonder and humility ! Such was the group on the hen-dog-Indian side of the scene. Ourselves occupied the other. We stood at our horses' necks, one hand on the rein, and awaited something, we knew not what. The Esquire rolled his little black eyes in delight to see us ; put one hand on the hip, and stood on one leg, and then changed into an opposite position ; shaking and giggling with joy meanwhile, and ap- parently not knowing where to begin to entertain either him- self or us. At length, Dr. Bale came to his relief, by referring to the fact that he owned ipore land before the mission was founded, than he now seemed to enjoy. At this he tooK fire, and went into a dissertation on the titles of the Padres and Indians ; the substance of which, I learned from the Doctor, was, that the Padres had taken possession of the valley about forty years before, had taught the Indians to work and pray, had given a portion of his lands to other Indians, and when civil troubles came, had killed most of the cattle and sold the hides and tallow to ships, for hard dollars, and with bags of these dollars left the country and the Indians who had earned them. " There," said he, pointing to his blind wife, " is all they have left me of my wife ; she worked hard and is blind j and these little fields are all they have left me of my broad lands." His violent gesticulation and tone of voice led me to the belief that he was tinctured with mania. The poor fellow and his wife excited our commiseration deeply, and I cannot remember them, even now, without reviving the pity I felt for the " Indian lawyer" and his poor blind wife, tottering about her lowly hut. From these premises we turned rein for Monterey. Our Californian steeds laid hoof to the rough road in a manner wor- thy their Arabian sires. Speed, speed ! Backward the gravel flew from their wiling feet, as we mounted the heights. Gully and rock were leaped with a joyful neigh ! "We reached T RAVE L S IN T M IC C A L l F R N I A S . 103 the highland when the sun was a hand's brendth above the ocean. His burning farewell lay on the verdant hill-tops. Onward ! speed onward ! The Bay is before us ; its crested billows are gilded, like fretted gold, with rays from the uppe. rim of the sinking sun ! On the twenty-eighth of April the Don Quixote had cora- j)leted her business with P. I. Farnham & Co.'s ship Alciope, and was ready for sea. Captain Paty had laid in a generous supply of fresh beef, vegetables, and other comforts for his passengers ; the foreign residents had presented the American with many little tokens of regard, in the form of fruits, wines, &c., to make the voyage comfortable. Eleven o'clock, A. M., we took leave of our countrymen, and others of the Saxon blood, on the rock where the prison- ers' chains had lately clanked, and shoved off for the ship. One of the unpleasant circumstances attending journeys m wild and dangerous countries, is, the parting from persons of kindred feelings with whom we have wept or rejoiced. Many who had suffered in Monterey were still there. They had es- caped an apparently certain doom, and I had felt keenly every shade which progressive events cast on their fate, or lifted from their hopes of being saved from the death of felons. They were saved ! They were glad ! But the fear of returning tyranny still hung over them. The same malignity held the reins of power ; and the dungeon and bullet were under the control of the same demons. It was hard parting with those brave and abused men. The throats of villains could be made to bleed ! The walls of justice and mercy could be reared around the social state in California. The acting government could have raised no force to prevent it. Britons and Ameri- cans could have done it ; and the halter been made to claim its own. But that prison-ship and my hearth called me. " On board !" " On board !" Our boat lies under the lee of the good barque Don Quixote ; the ropes of the gangway are seized ; and we stand on deck. " Man the windlass ;* " heave the anchor, cheerily, boys," is ordered and done. 10 104 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC This is always a cheering time on ship-board. " Heave ahoy j" and the old salt's eye brightens, his step quickens, and his voice rings gladly, as link after link of the ponderoas cable tinnbles aboaid, till the flukes of the anchor lie high on the bows, and the ship is given to her helm and the breeze. The wind, the sea, and good planks between him and the bottom, and the stars and stiipes at the mizen, are the substantial comforts of an American tar. Supplied with these and a clear sweep from the headlands, he will leave the shore without a feeling that it will ever be his wish to return. Indeed, the real sailo:, he who has wound every yarn of his happy hours around the windlass, despises the land. We had in the Don Quixote an example of this kind. He was a tall, slabsided Yankee, from the State of Maine ; with a hand like a grappling-iron, hung to a mass of shoulder and chest that would have been formidable among buffalo. His deck name was Tom; to which the adjective long, wa.s sometimes pre- fixed, as he explained it, " in order to add a fathom to its sound." When sixteen years of age, he had heard that Maine was noted far abroad for its long mortals and heavy fists j and dreamed that he was not so deficient in these qualities as to be excluded from the distinction which might arise from them. He therefore determined to avail himself of the first favora- ble occasion for reaping the harvest of that notoriety to which he seemed to be born. Nor did he wait an unpleasant length of time for such an opportunity. His father returned home one evening with a new axe, purchased for Tom's especial use, in the lumber forest. It was the night previous to " the General Training-day," at Portland ; and he proposed, as the morrow would be a leisure day, that Tom should test the metal of his axe, in cutting away a dry hemlock tree which had fallen across the public road. A mere suggestion from the father was the law of his household. Tom, therefore, ate his breakfast, next morning, with becoming submissiveness, and about seven o'clock struck his new axe into the dry hemlock. T : I I i. i i TRAVELS IN TUK CALIFORNIAS. 105 '4 It rose, fell, and clinked in the hard knots ; and occasionally sinking into the wood a depth sufficient to hold without his aid, left him at liberty to chew his tobacco, and think of his condition. The neighboring lads came riding past. They jeered him for his want of spirit, once, again, a third time, and onward, until Tom began to think that his situation was not quite so agreeable as it would be, if he, also, with a pistareen in his pocket, were on his way to the gingerbread carts of the pa- rade ground. To be kept at work on General Training-day, was at war with all precedent; that was a holy day for young people throughout all the land of johnny-cakes. A little reflection, therefore, convinced him that his father's re- quirement was somewhat unkind ; a little more thought and considerable love of gingerbread, demonstrated that chopping wood on that day was not to be done by Long Tom Sassa- fras ; and depositing his axe in the corn-house, he went to the General Training, received a flogging from his father in the presence of an auctioneer of Yankee Notions, shipped on board a lumber sloop bound for Boston, and from that time became a Salt. Tom considered the land well nigh a nuisance. It had a few points of value. It was useful as a hiding-place from a storm ; useful as a hospital for " a fresh" to cure the scurvy ; as a convenient substitute for a " log" to show when the voyage is ended ; as a lumber yard for the wherewithal to build keels ; and as a place in which small fish may rendez- vous. But the sea was a greater part of the Globe; the home of freemen ; where they have a plenty of sound air to breathe, and nothing but the will of Heaven to curtail their movements. " On the land it is otherwise. One's tarpaulin is knocked off at every second step on their brick-decked gangways ; every lubber in straps and tights who sees fit to pass before you can up helm, runs into you, carries away your bowsprit, and d ns your eyes because you could not luff into the walls of a building to give him lee-way. And then the 106 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC land is all mud and reefs ; everything upon it is dirty ; the Ladies, God knows I love the Ladies and pity them, can't keep themselves tidy. I've seen many a brace of them that required a fortnight's holy-stoning to get down to their natu- ral color. They are obliged to paint themselves to cover up the dirt and keep from looking weather-beaten. I never knew a sensible sailor that wasn't glad to leave the land for the glorious old sea. Their ideas, those land lubbers, about what is comfortable and beautiful, are not worth a ball of spunyarn. They talk to you about the dangers of the sea, just as if there was no lee coast to run one's head and toes against on the land ; about the shady groves on a May-day, just as if there were no May-day shade under the brave old canvass of Neptune; and about the purling brooks and the music of birds, just as if there were neither water at sea, nor any albatross to sail and scream in the sun, nor happy petrels to sing in the storm. And about being buried in the sea ! This they think is a dreadful thing ! They thrust thei" eyes half out of their heads when you tell them it is better to be eaten clean up by a decent shark, than to be stuffed away a few feet under ground among toads and worms and other varmints ! And if you tell them that when a fellow dies a1 sea, they sew him up in a strong bit of canvas, and hang a weight to his feet, read prayers over him and drop him solemnly into the ocean, and he goes down into the clear clear water, two or three miles perhaps, and there sleeps high above the bottom, high above dirt and worms, the lubber? think he is out of the latitude of the resurrection and Heaven and all. I am for the sea. I would not mind shipping on the quarter-deck a voyage or two, to see how it would seem to whistle the boys into the top-gallant stays in a dead north- easter. But I should want to be before the mast. That's the home for me, boys." " Haul taut the weather main brace there" ! " Aye, aye, sir ;" and away skipped our Maine boy to his duty. i; ' TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIAS 107 We had a fine breeze from the time we weighed, till twelve o'clock on the twenty-ninth, when the wind died gradually away to a calm. During the night we lay off Punto Con- cepcion ; a rough ragged point of land forty miles north-west of Santa Barbara. On the thirtieth, a light breeze bore us early in the morning past San Miguel. This is an island, about fifteen miles from the coast. It is ten miles in circum- ference, with a rocky, barren and dry surfoce, marked here and there with a few fruitful spots and streams of water. At nine o'clock we were off Santa Rosa ; an island about the same distance from the land, twenty miles in circunr ''erence, piled with lofty barren hills, interspersed with a few forests and fertile districts. Next came Santa Cruz; an oblong island forty miles in circumference, w^ith some woodlands and fruitful vales. Farther off shore and southward, are the islands of Santa Barbara, San Nicholas and San Clemente. They lie in a line running south-east and north-west, and form the outer wall of the roadstead, called the Canal de Santa Barbara. These islands have much high land, com- posed of dark shining rocks, apparently of volcanic origin. They are partially covered with trees, but a greater portion of their surface is barren sands and rocks. They are densely populated with goats. Near night a calm came on, and our sails, after flapping awhile, hung lifeless upon the spars. This was a very annoy- ing circumstance. All on board felt extremely anxious to be in Santa Barbara that night lest the prison-ship should leave before we arrived. About twelve o'clock, however, a slight breeze sprang up, which bore us along two knots the hour. The air was so bland on deck that I chose a berth among some loose sails in the long boat, in preference to the heated cabin. It was a pure night. No vapors obscured the sky. No harsh winds disturbed the waters. Every living thing seemed reposing and smiling in its dreams of joy. The birds on the land and water should be excepted. They were 108 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC twittering softly one to another, coursingj through the air and marshalHng and gabbling among the waves, as if keeping vigil over the slumbers of Nature ! The coast from Monterey to the Canal de Santa Barbara is broken into elevated hills, fringed with forests of pine and oak, and covered with the wild grasses. From these flow many valuable little streams, which gurgle and plash down deep and verdant ravines to the sea. It is a beautiful wilderness ; a country for the wild horse, the mighty grisly bear, the un- domesticated cattle of a thousand hills ; a blithe domain for the human race, when true and valiant men shall govern it. The first sound that fell upon my ear on the first day of May, was the rippling of the water at the ship's side. She was moving slowly down the Canal de Santa Barbara. At nine o'clock we cast anchor before the town, lowered the boat and shot away to the beach. The prison-ship was lying at anchor in the roadstead ! Our countrymen were incarce- rated at the mission ! We might be of some service to them ; and that expectation gave us all infinite pleasure, in being again in their neighborhood. Santa Barbara is situated on an inclined plane, which rises gradually from the sea side to a range of picturesque high- lands, three and a half miles from the sea. The town itself is three quarters of a mile from the landing. The houses are chiefly built in the Spanish mode, adobie walls, and roofs of tile. These tiles are made of clay, fashioned into half cylinders, and burned like brick. In using them, the first layer is placed hollow side up ; the second inversely, so as to lock over the first. Their ends overlap each other as common shingles do. This roofing serves very well in dry weather. But when the driving southwesters of the winter season come on, it aflbrds a poor shelter. Very few of the houses have glass windows. Open spaces in the walls, protected with bars of wood, and plank shutters, serve instead. Mr. A. B. Thompson, a wealthy and hospitable American merchant, has erected a residence TUAVELS IN THE CAL FORNIAS. 109 in the centre of the town, which bears very striking testimo- ny to his being a civilized man. There is an old Catholic mission, one mile and three quarters above the town, called El Mission de Santa Barbara. The church itself is a stone edifice, with two towers on the end towards the town, and a high gable between them. The friars complimented Father Time, by painting on the latter something in the shape of a clock dial. In the towers are hung a number of rich toned bells, brought from old Spain nearly a hundred years ago. The roof is covered with burnt clay tiles, laid in cement. The residence of the Padres, also built of stone, forms a wing with the church towards the sea. The prisons form another, towards the highlands. Hard by are clusters of Indian huts, constructed of adobies and tile, standing in rows, with streets between. The old Padres seem to have united with their missionary zeal a strong sense of comfort and taste. They laid off a beautiful garden, a few rods from the church, surrounded it with a high substantial fence of stone laid in Roman cement, and planted it with limes, almonds, apricots, peaches, apples, pears, quinces, &c., which are now annually yielding their several fruits in abundance. Before the church they erected a series of concentric urn fountains, ten feet in height, from the top of which the pure liquid bursts, and falls from one to another till it reaches a large pool at the base ; from this it is led off a short distance to the statue of a grisly bear, from whose mouth it is ejected into a reservoir of solid masonry, six feet wide and seventy long. From the pool at the base of the urn fountains water is taken for drinking and household use. The long reservoir is the theatre of the battling, plashing, laughing and scolding of the washing-day. Around these fountains are solid, cemented stone pavements, and ducts to carry off the surplus water. Nothing of the kind can be in better taste, more substantial, or useful. Above the church and its cloisters, they brought the water 17 'I ! 110 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC around the brow of a green hill, in an open stone aqueduct, a rapid, noisy rivulet, to a square reservoir of beautiful ma- sonry. Below, and adjoining this, are the ruins of the Pa- dres' grist-mill. Nothing is left of its interior structure, but the large oaken ridgepole. Near the aqueduct which car- ries the water into the reservoir of the mills, stands a small stone edifice ten feet in length by six in width. This is the bath. Over the door, outside, is the representation of a lion's head, from which pours a beautiful jet of water. This little structure is in a good state of preservation. A cross sur- mounts it, as, indeed, it does everything used by the Catholic missionaries of these wilderness regions. Below the ruins of the grist-mill is another tank one hundred and twenty-feet square, by twenty deep, constructed like the one above. In this was collected water for supplying the fountains, irrigating the grounds below, and for the propulsion of different kinds of machinery. Below the mission was the t;ui-yard, to which the water was carried in an aqueduct, built on the top of a stone wall, from four to six feet high. Here was manufac- tured the leather used in making harnesses, saddles, bridles, and Indian clothing. They cultivated large tracts of land with maize, wheat, oats, peas, potatoes, beans, and grapes. Their old vineyards still cover the hill-sides. When the mission was at the height of its prosperity, there were several hun- dred Indians laboring in its fields, and many thousands of cat- tle and horses grazing in its pastures. But its splendor has departed, and with it its usefulness. The Indians who were made comfortable on these premises, are now squalid and mise- rable. The fields are a waste! Nothing but the church retains its ancient appearance. We will enter and describe its interior. It is one hundred and sixty feet long by sixty in width. Its walls are eight feet in thickness. The height of the nave is forty feet. On the wall, to the right, hangs a picture representing a king and a monk up to their middle in the flames of purgatory Their posture is that of prayer and I TRAVELS IN Till:: CALIFORNIAS. Ill penitence ; but their faces do not indicate any decided con- sciousness of the blistering foothold on which they stand. On the contrary, they wear rather the quiet aspect of persons who love their ease, and have an indolent kind of pleasure in the scenes around them. On the other side, near the door of the confessional, is a picture of Hell. The Devil and his staff are represented in active service. The flames of his furnace are curling around his victims, with a broad red glare, that would have driven Titian to madness. The old Monarch himself appears hotly engaged in wrapping serpents of fire around a beautiful female figure, and his subalterns, with flam- ing tridents, are casting torments on others, whose sins are worthy of less honorable notice. Immediately before the altar is a trap-door, opening into the vaults, where are buried the missionary Padres. Over the altar are many rich images of the saints. Among them is that of San Francisco, the patron of the missions of Upper California. Tliree silver candlesticks, six feet high, and a silver crucifix of the same height, with a golden image of the Saviour suspended on it, stand within the chancel. To the left of the altar is the sa- cristy, or priest's dressing-room. It is eighteen feet square, splendidly carpeted, and furnished with a wardrobe, chairs, mirrors, tables, ottoman, &c. In an adjoining room of the same size are kept the para- phernalia of worship. Among these are a receptacle of the host, of malssive gold in pyramidal form, and weighing at least ten pounds avoirdupois, and a convex lens set in a block of gold, weighing a number of pounds, through which, on cer- tain occasions, the light is thrown so as to give the appearance of an eye of consuming fire. A door in the eastern wall of the church leads from the foot of the chancel to the cemetery. It is a small piece of ground enclosed by a high wall, and consecrated to the burial of those Indians who die in the faith of the Catholic Church. It is curiously arranged. Walls of solid masonry, six feet I! 113 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC apart, are sunk six feet in depth, and to a level with the sur- face. Between these the dead arc buried in such manner that their feet touch one wall ami their heads the other. These grounds have been long since fdled. In order, however, that no Christian Indian may be buried in a less holy place, the bones, after the flesh has decayed, are exhumed and deposited in a little building on one corner of the premises. I entered this. Three or four cart-loads of skulls, ribs, spines, leg-bones, a.iJ-bones &c., lay in one corner. Beside them stood two hand-hearses with a small cross attached to each. About the walls hunjj the mould of death ! On the first of May the American made application ior permission to see the prisoners, and was refused. He had heard that they were in want of food, and proposed to supply them ; but was forbidden by Jose Castro, the officer in charge. The prison-ship had arrived at Santa Barbara on the twenty- fifth of April, and landed forty-one of the prisoners. Four others were retained on board to work. These forty-one men, during the whole passage from Monterey, had been chained to long bars of iron passing transversely across the hold of the ship. They were not permitted to go on deck, nor even to stand on their feet. A bucket was occasionally passed about for particular purposes, but so seldom as to be of little use. They were furnished with a mere morsel of food, and that of the worst quality. Of water, they had scarcely enough to prevent death from thirst ; and so small and close was the place in which they were chained that it was not uncommon for the more debilitated to faint and lie some time in a lifeless state. When they landed, many of them had become so weak that they could not get out of the boat without aid. Their companions in chains assisted them, although threaten- ed with instant death if they did so. After being set ashore, they were marched in the midst of drawn swords and fixed bayonets, dragging their chains around bleeding limbs, one mile and three-quarters, to the mission of Santa Barbara ! I TRAVELS IN T II K ( A I. I K II N I A S , 113 1 Here they were put into a single room of the mission prisons, without floor or means of ventilation. The bottom of the cell was soft mud ! In this damp dungeon, without food or water, these poor fellows remained two days and nights ! They had not even straw on which to sleep ! At the end of this time it coming to the ears of the Friar in charge of the mission, that one of them was dying of hunger and thirst, he repaired to the prison and inquired of Pinto, the corporal of the guard, if such were the fact ! The miniature monster answered, that he did not know. The Friar replied, " are you an officer and a Catholic, and do not know the state of your prisoners ! You, sir, are an officer of to- timozin and Montezuma has perished in the western seas, Cortez is the name of a corse bloated and sunken in their depths. The caciques of the fallen dynasty shout for glad- ness among the mountains of Mexico. Their enslaver no longer breathes. The great relentless heart of Cortez is rotting. His fiery eye has ceased to burn. His unconquera- ble soul no longer hovers over their native vales, and the sound of his terrible voice is for ever hushed. This belief rouses their lost courage. They gather around their ancient altars. The holy Sun is besought to blight their oppressors with his fervent fires, and send life, love, and true hearts among his fallen children. They worsliip in their ancient temples, and vow that they will be free. The Marchioness Donna Juanna de Zunniga, daughter of the Count de Aguilar and cousin to the Duke de Bejan, has loved the student of Salamanca, and become his second wife \* I (! ' h 124 SCENES I THE PACIFIC. And the love of this 'voman still burns ardently, and alone, Cor her absent husband. The Audiencia at Mexico are Span- iards, and as such can lay aside their jealousy >f Cortez when his prowess is recpiired to save their necks A virtue this which never fails to a;row where Castilian blood fertilizes the human frame. The Cacitjues now line the mountain sides with their followers; the war-cry bounds across the vale of the city. " Cortez is dead, and we can be free !" is sung on all the heights from the Gulf to the Pacific. That Audiencia now loves Cortez. They condole with his wife on her pro- bable loss, and allow her to send a ship with letters from her- self urging his return. The Caciques press towards their holy city, and its sacred lakes. The avenging passions of enslaved millions growl through the land, and the clash of ravage arms, their dancings and songs, i.Vmgle in one direful din on the ear of the Viceroy. He sends entreaties that Cortez will return and save the country. Th.-se messages from the Vice- roy and his wife reach him on *ne coast of Senora ; he sails back to La Paz ; leaves Fran :isco de Ulloa in charge of a part of his people ; returns tc Acapulco ; goes to Quahuna- huac to meet his anxious wife ; and thence proceeds to Mexi- co. The poor Indians learn that the murderer of their Emperor lives ! They lay down their arms, and every hope of frj^edom. Ulloa has followed his master, and awaits his orders at Acapidco. In May, 1537, he is again ordered to sea with three ships, the Santa Agueda, La Trinidad, and Santo Tor- res. He touches at Santiago de Buena Esperanza ; at Guay- abal; crosses over to California, and follows the coast to the head c. the Gulf. Along this coast he sees many volcanoes, bare mountains, and barren valleys. Whales abound in the sea ; and on the land he finds large, heavy, and very crooked sheep's horns; also naked Indians taking fish with hooks made of wood, bone, and tortoise-shell, who wear bright shells about the neck, and use the maws of sea-wolves for T II A V E L 8 IN THE C A X. I F R N I A S 125 drinking vessels ! After a year's cruising in the Gulf, or Ma (le Cortez, Ulloa returns to Acapulco. About this time Alvar Nunnez Cabeza de Vaca and Ms three companions, Castello, Dorontes, and a negro called Es- tevanico, arrive at Mexico. They are the only survivors ol three hundred Spaniards who landed in Florida with Pamfilo dc Narvaez, ten years before, wilJi the intention of comjiiering that country. They have been defeated and driven from Flo- rida, and having wandered on foot through Louisiana, Texas, and other parts inhabited by savages, they appear among their countrymen naked, and so changed in their personal ap- pearance, tht't their language is almost the only evidence of their origin. This Alvar Nunnez Ca za de Vaca relates such surprising tales of his adventures, and the gold, pearls, &c., seen in the north, as to kindle anew the avarice of the Spaniards. The excitement, howevi^r, does not reach its height until the return of a monk who has travelled over those countries with the design of Christianizing the natives. This man has seen rich countries covered with grains, fruits, countless herds of black cattle, and mountains shining with the precious metals. The Viceroy and Cortez are enemies. They both conceive the design of penetrating these countries. But the former induces the creditors of the latter to vex him with le- gal proceedings while he 1 ^df dispatches an expedition by sea and another by land, to discover and < onqucr these won- der-born regions. The land force is led by Francis«'o Vas- quez Coronado. He marches at the hen! of one t' )usand chosen men ; and after many hardships caches his destination a 52'=' N. Lat., three hundred leagues north of Culiacan, Ciualoa, and Valle de Senora. He finds a province her« < Mnpo«!cu of seven towns in which are about four hundred men and a pro- portionate number of women and children. The largt s' has two hundred houses of earth and rough wood. Some e four and five stories high. The entrance to each floor i.v. noiu the r^J ( 126 8 C E N E f IN T II K I' A C I 1' 1 C . oulsule by moans ol' stairs, which, lor security, are removed at night. The country not being strewn with gold and gems, how- ever, as the soldiers anticipated, they propose to return. But Coronado sends a body of them three hundred leagues farther north, in search of two cities, called Quivira and Axa. They find only a rich country abounding in fruit, cattle and wild beasts. Meeting with nothing, therefore, in all these regions to gratify their cujiidity during a search of three years, they return to Mexico and report to that ellect. This expedition has traversed the interior of Upper California. The arma- miMil, meantime, has sailed to the place of rendezvous on the Ptcific coast of Oregon, and awaited in idleness the arrival of the land expedition. But as Grijalvu was spending his time in searching for a land of gold, and the fabled cities of Quivira and Axa, instead of socking his countrymen at the appointed place, the commander of the fleet found it conve- nient to return to Mexico. He is soon after disgraced and dies of chagrin. Thus terminate the Viceroy's expeditions ! The friends of Cortez bruit this failure of his enemy to de- fraud their chief of his rights. But the star of that great man is sinking ; and they cannot stay its fall. Thwarted and overreached by his enemies, and finding the mind of his sove- reign poisoned by their machinations. ' i ^'^olves to present himself again at Court and demand his rights. Accordin'.',ly, in 1540, he embarks with his two sons for Spain ; attends the King in his unfortunate expedition to Algiers ; and alter spending seven years in vain etrorf s to regain the favor of his monarch, expires of grief and disappointment at Castillya de la Cuesta, while on his way to meet his daughter at Cadiz. Thus dies the conqueror of Mexico and discoverer of California ! CHAPTER VIII. i I Thr\e hundred years ago— The Capilana, Almiranta, Frigate and Barco Loic;o — A rare Bird— Mazatlan — A Fog and a Reef— San Bamabe — Lay»)g down Arms— Rieh Shores — Game — Nature's Salt Works — Depaiurc— A Norlhwes.;er — A Separation — Signal Fires— A Desert — Fish — \. Saline Lake — T:acls and a Meeting — An Island— A Precious Mountatii — Amber — Ct-rros — Circumnavigating — San Hypolito^Up the Coa!i_A Gale— Out of sight— Comes to Anchor— Bahia San Francisco .f the South- Natl ve Cattle- Indian Courtesy— A Meeting— Another B-y—A Battle— Weighs—San Diego— Savages— Graves- Santa Caiaina— Its Inhabitants and Customs— Its Productions— A Temple— A he of Islands— His Majesty and Hospitality— A Blow- Four Canoes-Rio San Carmelo— Monterey in IGO'^— Death— The Al- miranta dispatc.ed to Mexico— A Horrid Disease— The Country— Its People and Anirajs- Bahia San Francisco of the North— Cape Men- docino— Death ! leath !— Return to Mazatlan— Death— To Acapulco -Lamentations ! ! In 1542 the Viceoy of Mexico sends Juan Rodriguez Ca- brillo from the Port (f Navidad with two ships, on a voyage of discovery up the ^oast of California. He touches at Santa Cruz, la Magdal«na, Cape del Enganno in lat. 32", La Cruz in 33", de la Gaera in 36^", the Bay of San Fran- cisco in about 37" 40', a»d sees a large Cape, in lat. 40", which he calls Mendocino, i\ honor of the Viceroy. In March, 1543, he reaches 44" withouv making any additional discover- ies of importance. At this ti»ie, the cold being very intense, he turns his ship homeward anj enters the harbor of Navidad on the 14th of April, 1545. Nl other expeditions are under- taken to California, until 1596 ; when Count Monterey, the reigning Viceroy, receives an ordtr from Philip II. for mak- ing discoveries and settlements in California. In obedience to this order, Sebastian Viscayno is appointed Captain-general 1 1.2S g C E N K S ' I N T II K PACIFIC r'l ■»» of the Expedition, and Capt. Toribio Gomez admiral. Both are persons of great worth, enterprise and skill. Two ships, the Capitana and Ahniranta, are purchased, and a frigate built expressly for this service. Tl ' j is besides a barco longo for surveying creeks and bays, ai.c such other services as canno' be peiformed with deeper keels, Tlirce barefooted Carine- ites, Padre Andrez de la Assuinpcion, Padre Antonio de la Ascencion, and Padre Tomas de Aquino, accompany thf <-*x- pedition in the rapacity of spiritual advisers; and Capt. ilon- zo Estevan Peguero and Ensign Caspar de Alarcon, a' coun- sellors in relation to the proceedings of the expedition Capl. Geroniino Martin is likewise attached to it as draughsman of the coasts, islands, and harbors which shall be cion, advancing alone, mak- ing signs of peace and friendship, induces them to stop, em- braces them all kindly, and gives assurance that no harm is intended them. They now lay down thiir arms, and intimate that the soldiers must do the same before they will advance. The Padre conveys this wish to his friends, and calls a little negro boy to bring a basket of biscuit to distribute among them. At sight of the negro they are greatly pleased, and tell him, by signs, thatf there is a village of people like him- self not far thence, with whom they are on friendly terms. Having received beads and other presents, they retire to their rancherias, or settlements, much pleased, though ai)parenlly not entirely free from apprehension. After this, the general and others walk about to examine the shore. Not far distant they observe a pond of clear water, on the borders of which lie great quantities of sardine and pilchard, which have been thrown up by the breakers. The next day they visit another ISO SCENES T JI E PACIFIC spot, where ihey find the shore for some distance strewn with pearl oysters of the most brilliant and variou,? hues. The httle fleet lies in this bay several days to repair, and take in wood and water. The boats, meantime, are kept constantly abroad taking fish. Soles, lobsters, pearl oysters, &c., are procured. The quail, wood-pigeon, rabbits, hares, deer, lions, tigers, are seen on the hills; various kinds of trees, as the pitahaya, fig, lentisk, and a great variety of plum shrubs, which, instead of gum, emit a very fragrant odor, grow in the valleys. In the vicinity of the anchorage is a low tract of ground subject to be inundated by the sea, dur- ing the prevalence of the southwesterly winds. Its shape is such that when the waves retire a large quantity of water is left, which evaporates and leaves a deposit of fine white salt. The Indians of this region go entirely naked. They are, however, extremely fond of ornamenting their hair, and of painting their bodies in black and white stripes. Having finii-hed the repairs about the time the moon changes, and having by the distribution of goods produced a "avorable state of feeling among the soldiers, the Captain- General, about the first of July, orders the squadron to put to sea. But they run only three leagues, when a northwest- erly wind springs up, which soon increases to such a gale that they are compelled to put back into '. bay of San Barnabe. Three times they stand out, a* . aa often are com- pelled to return. At last they deterznine *o leave the barco longo, which the Capitana has towed, mucn to the detriment of her progress, and on the 5th of July, for the fourth time, attempt to gain the open sea. The Almiranta and Capitana with great difficulty some headway against the tem- pest. But the frif i' obliged to part company, and run in under the land. V> -it the gale abates, the commander is desiious of uniting with the frigate, and for this purpose lays in for the shore. On the 8th they make land under the brow of some lofty hills, where they are becalmed. This range of highlands they call Sierra del Enfado, or Mount TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORXIAS 131 Ted; 's. On the 16th a breeze fills their s.iils, and the ships stand away for the harbor dc la Maj^dalcna. Here they are envelo[)0(i in a fog so dense that a man cannot be seen at six paces. The Capitana runs into the harbo'-, but the Ahni- ranta is compelled to turn her prow seaward. When the fog clears up, therefore, they have lost sio;ht of each other. The people of the Capitana mount the hills which skirt the harbor, and build signal fires on the heights, i'hesc are seen by the people of the Ahniranta ; but mistaking iliem for the fires of the Indians, continue to stand olT. The Captain-Gene- ral now becomes very anxious for the missing sliip and fri gate ; and, as soon as the gale abates, sails in quest of them. He first explores the bay of San Jago ; but not finding them there, proceeds to Magdalena, and, to the joy of all, anchors near the frigate. They weigh anchor «gain on Sunday morning the 28th of July, and that they may not be parted again, the Capitana takes the frigate in tow. A gale which comes on from the northwest after they leave the harbor, prevents them from standing as far from tie shore as they desire. But they bear away along the coast, and soon after heave in rht of a bay which seems to be formed by the mouth of a iver. This the frigate is sent to survey. But ascertaining the mouth to be crossed by a line of impassable breakers, they continue their voyage. On 'he eighth of August they discover another bay. Being now very much in want of wood, water, and fresh food, some soldiers are sent on shore tc search for them. The country, however, is perfectly barrel and destitute of all. An island is in sight which promise? the required aid. It proves to be small, with a soil of gravel and sand, and thronged with gulb. The creeks are frequented with im- mense numbers of sea wolves, and a great variety of fish. The boat is sent out with fishing tackle, &c., and in an hour two men take a supply for both vessels. Transfiguration day is passed here ; and Padre Antonio celebrates mass. After service, the sergeant and some soldiers ,.' li" '% V 1 !!■ I 132 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. bein|» out in search of water and wood, find a lake filled with very good salt. Near it are some pits containing brackisn water. Around these they discover innumerable foot prints, and other signs which, to their inexpressible joy, clearly in- dicate that the crew of the Almiranta have been here before them ! They therefore take a small supply of this miserable water, and sail for the island of Ceiros in search of their com- panions. On their way they pass a very high barren moun- tain upon the main coast,showing every variety of color, on a blight shining surface. It is affirmed, by a sailor from Peru, to be a bed of silver and gold ! They are very desirous to ascertain if this opinion be true ; but the wind will not per- mit Ihem to land. Tliey soon after enter a good harbor, which they name San Bartholome. Here the General sends Ensign Alarcon and some soldiers ashore for water. The only thing they find worthy of notice is a kind of resin, or gum, which being rather offensive to the smell, they do not think worth taking to the ship. They believe it to be amber, and report enough of it to load a large ship. As no water is to be found on this barren shore, they continue their search for the lost vessel. On the last day of August they come to anchor at the island o[ Cerros. While they are furling their sails. Padre Tomas de Aquino discovers the Almiranta approaching them. The most extravagant joy is manifested on board both ships at this meeting. Capt. Viscayno learns ihat she has been lying in a fine harbor since the nineteenth ; that she has just weigh- ed for the purpose of circumnavigating the island in search of the Capitana, and that supplies of wood, water, salt, &c., may be had at her last mooring ground. Accordingly, the little fleet runs into the Almiranta's old harbor. Here the General orders his men to pitch a tent for the Padres, and take in supplies. But the ^vater is found so remote, that the General sends Ensign Juan Francisco and Sergeant Miguel de TRAVELS IN THE C A I, 1 F U N I A S . 133 Legar with twelve soldiers, over the island, to see if there be not some spring or stream more accessible. After a long search they repoi L the discovery of a rivulet about two leagues distant. Everything is now ordered on board and the fleet proceeds at once to the mouth of the stream. While they are taking in water, the General orders the frigate to make the circuit of the island. On their return, the cosmographer reports it to be about thirty leagues in cir- cumference, to have high mountains covered with cedar and pine, and to be inhabited by savages, who answered all their signs of peace with the most threatening gestures. On the main coast a large bay was observed, which seemed to run far inland. All the sliips of the fleet being supplied with water, they set sail on the ninth of September. Their course is northerly, towards the main siiorc. They make it on the eleventh, and discover a fine bay, which they call San Ilypo- lito. Anchors are dropped and preparations made for sur- veys. For this purpose the General orders some soldiers ashore under Capt. Peguero and Ensign Alarcon. The coun- try is found very beautilul. A broad and well-beaten road leads inland from the coast to a large hut covered with palm- 'eaves, capable of containing fifty persons. While returning to the ship they take a great quantity of the best fish, on which all hands feast sumptuously. Thus fed, and joyful that they have found so desirable a country, they raise anchors and stand up the coast. As they sail along they see many large fires, which they deem an indication that Indian villages are numerous. But they have proceeded a few leagues only, when a violent gale springs up from the northwest, which compels them to run in under some lofty hills bordering the sea. To the southeast of this anchorage is seen a line of white cliffs on which there appear to be a great number of Indians. The General, there- fore, orders the frigate in shore with the cosmographer to take a chart of the coast and ascertain the condition of the natives. On coming in close under the heights she is becalmed at such 134 SCENES IN THE I'ACiriC u distance from the shore that thiy cannot land. The sea, meanwhile, runnin*^ very high outside, obliges the ships to lie to for twenty-four hours, during which time the frigate drifts out of sight and the Almiranta is near foundering. In the morn- ing they endeavor to continue their voyage. But the wind increases till evening, when a thick fog envelopes earth, sea, and ships. The Ahniriinta being in much jeopardy from the in- juries received the previous night, the General determines to look for some harbor where they i, ly be secure against the heavy storm presaged by the; fog. lb finds none; but much to their surprise, the following day opens i lear, and with a gentle breeze, which carries them o(rthe Mesas, near which the frigate left them. The promises of fair weather, however, prove very deceitful ; for before night a gale, more violent than any they have experienced, and accompanied by a thick fog, overtakes them. The ships lie to all night under reefed mainsails ; but before morning they lose sight of each other. The General now makes every effort to fall in with the Almiranta ; and keeping close in shore for this purpose, very unexpectedly meets the frigate. But as he gets no tidings of the ship, his fears for her safety are not lesstiied. He there- fore puts into a fine harbor which they have discovered north- west of Cape Enganno, and there awaits her. He believes that, if still in a sailing condition, she must, by pursuing her instructions in regard to her course, necessarily pass near the mouth of this bay. They call this harbor Bahia de San Fran- cisco. In a rancheria near the anchorage they find a species of onions. Goats' horns, also, are strewn over the ground. The surrounding country is level, fertile, and very beautiful. The plains are fed by large herds of cattle and deer. The crew of the frigate point out an island a little north of the anchorage which they call San Geronimo ; and the Captain- General orders some of the seamen ashore to examine it. It proves to be heavily wooded, and frequented by immense flocks of birds. Its shoals abound in the finest cod and other fish Of these they take a supply for all the ships. Beyond the TRAVELS IN r II !•; C A I, I F « N I A 8 135 island they discover a large bay into wliirh a considerable creek empties itself with a strong current.. Tiie frigate goes in to survey it. They observe great numbers of iiakid Indi- ans fishing in the creek, who approach the Spaniards with the liveliest marks of joy, offer them the best of their fish, and show them several wells of pure fresh water. AVhen these things arc reported to Captain Viscayno, he orders a tent to be pitched for the celebration of mass, anil preparations made to lie here till the Almiranta comes up, or all hope of her is lost. They take in wood and water. Every m*" 'ing the Indi- ans bring them a supi)ly of fish for the day, and pay such deference to the Spaniards, that they never visit the rancherias in the neighborhood, without first soliciting the permission of the Generul and the Padres. The Spaniards return their courtesy with trifling presents, which enlist their wonder and admiration so deeply, that immense numbers of Indian men, and women with two infants each, flock from the neighboring rancherias ; pronounce Spanish words after the soldiers ; eat with them ; and in other ways show a disposition to culti- vate the most friendly and intimate acquaintance. The fe- males are clad in skins, and show much propriety of conduct. These Indians carry o.\ a considerable trade with their inland neighbors by furnishing them with fish, and receiving in re- turn net purses, curiously wrought, and a root called mcxcalli or maguey, boiled and prepared as a conserve. Of both these articles they give great quantities to the Spaniards in return for the beads and other trifles. They in- form their visitors that up in the country there are a great many people who wear clothes and beads, and have fire-arras. They are supposed to refer to Onate's land expedition from Mexico. Having now abandoned all hope of the Almiranta, it being twenty-eight days since she parted from them, the General, on the twenty-fourth of October, stands out to sea. Just as he leaves the bay, to his great astonishment and joy, the long absent ship is seen approaching. m1 \r 136 SCKNKS IN Till: PACIFIC. Being now all united again, the General gives on^ rs ♦ continue the voyage, and run into the first harbor discovered. They soon see a large bay, which the tender is ordered to ex- plore. It is well sheltered from the northwest winds ; but as its shores are lined with great numbers of warlike Indians instead of landing they proceed up the coast. A north wester, however, soon obliges them to put back, and come to anchor. This being the anniversary of St. Simon and St Jude, they give the name of both saints to tb bay. The next morning Captain Peguero and Ensign Alarcr, n are sent ashore with some soldiers to look for wood and fre-.h water. Find- ing none of the latter, they dig some wells in a moist spot overgrown with sedge and flags. While doing this, the Indians seem very brisk and bold ; but do not molest the Spaniaids till some presents are offered them. Construing this act into a ^Ign of fear on the part of their visitors, they at once beccwne impudent, attempt to steal, and even go so far as to try to take one of the boats from the boys who are left in charge of it. To deter them from furU'c: violence, one of the soldiers, as they are going off to the ship, fires his piece in the air. But the Indians finding no one hurt, grow more insolent than ever ; and the next day wiien a small party goes on shoie to obtain water, they become so very trouble- some that two soldiers who have their matches lighted, order them to stand back. But this only increases their audacity. One of them throws his bow over the head of a soldier. The pilot draws bis sabre, and severs it. They now draw up in form, and place their arrovrr. on their bow-strings. The soldiers, who have lighted matches, are ordered to fire upon them ! In a moment six Indians lie bleeding upon the sand! Their companions snatch them up and bear them away! The news of this occurrence spreads like the wmd among the neighboring rancherias, and in a short time tv o hundred Indians painted fiercely, wearing nlumes upon their heads, and armed with bows and arrows, rush dowr to attack the TRAVELS IN THE CALIFOR^fIAS. 137 Spaniards. The Ensign, on seeing them, orders his men to make ready. The Indians, however, do not relish the ap- pearance of the arquebuses, and remain at a distance, talk- ing and gesticulating in the most earnest manner. At length they send one of their number with a little dog, in token of their desire to make peace. The man, while making the treaty, eyes the arquebuses very keenly, and signifies that four of his people are already deceased, and others dying of their wounds ; and in token of their sincere wish not to hear from these gods of fire again, he makes a number of presents to the soldie^j who bear them, and retires. The squadron leaves the bay on Wednesday the first of November. Continuing along the coast, they come to the mouth of a very large bay, sheltered on all sides, except the sea-ward one, by lofty mountains. It is protected at the entrance by two islands, which they call Todos Santos. The frigate and the Almiranta run in to make surveys. But the Capitana standing off, and night approaching, they dread another separation so much that they put out and rejoin the General. The next morning preparations are made to enter it again, for a more deliberate examination. But a favorable breeze springing up, they conclude to leave it for their re-*- turn, and continue the voyage. On the fifth of November they fall in with four islands, which the) call Coronadas. On the tentli they enter the fa- mous harbor of San Diego. The day after their arrival, En- sign Alarcon, Captain Peguero and eight soldiers are sent out to explore. They first direct their steps to a heavy forest which lies on the northwest side of the bay. This is ascer- tained to be about three leagues in width and half a one in breadth. The trees are chiefly oaks, with an undergrowth of fragrant shrubs. Obtaining a fine view of the bay from the heights, they ascertain it to be spacious, land-locked, and every way desirable ; and returning to the ships, report such to be its character. This result being deemed satisfactory by the General, he orders a tent pitched on shore for the celebra- I — 138 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC tion of mass, and preparation to be made for repairing the ships. One part of the crows therefore is assigned to clean and tallow the hulls, another to fill the water casks, and another to procure wood and keep guard. One day when each department is employed at its appoint- ed task, a sentinel posted in the forest sees a large body of Indians coming along the shore, naked, painted with red and while colors, and armed with bows and arrows. In order if possible, to avoid bloodshed, the General desires Padre Anto- nio to go and offer them peace. He is accompanied by En- sign Juan Francisco and six soldiers. Signs of peace being made with a bit of white linen, the Indians immediately de- liver their arms. The Padre embraces them all affectionate- ly ; and thus the best understanding is at once established. But observing so large a number of persons on board the ships, they retire in much apprehension ; and after consulting some time together, send two of their women alone to the tent. They approach with a timid air ; but being kindly re- ceived and presented with bea«is, biscuit, &c., they return and make such a report to their people as soon brings the whole troop down to the water side. They are generally naked ; their bodies striped with white and black paint ; and their heads loaded with feathers. Their light paint seems to the voyagers, to be compounded of silver and other materials ; and on being asked what it is, they give the Spaniards a piece of metallic ore, saying, " it is made from this." They add that far up in the country there are many people, wearing beads and clothes like theirs, who make of this metal such ornaments as the General has on his purple velvet doublet. All desirable preparations being made, they sail from this beautiful bay of San Diego, • While they have tarried in it, many of the crew who had been sick of the scurvy, have re- covered, and many others have died. It is a sorrowful occa- sion for those who still live, to part from the graves of their companions. They are interred on the borders of the magni- ficent forest northwest of the bay ; and the well known trees r K A V V. L s IX T n i: c \ l i f o r n i a s 150 which spread their branehes over them, are discernible as they leave the kind ! They scarcely clear the headlands of the harbor when a terrible northwester comes down upon them and changes their grief to fear. They see another voy- age begun which may terminate their own lives. But they keep their course and soon make another large bay. It is surroimded by a level, beautiful country, the inhabitants of which make fires on the heights along the coast, and by every sign in their power, invite the fleet to anchor. On approach- ing the land, however, they find no shelter from the northwest wind and stand out again to sea. A few leagues brings them to the large island of Santa Catarina. On the twenty-eighth they anchor in the bay. The in- habitants of Santa Catarina make the most noisy and earnest invitations for them to land. The General therefore orders Admiral Gomez, Capt. Peguero, an H 146 8CENK8 IN THE PACIFIC covcrod with ash, willow, and other trees, well known to the Spaniards. This liver they are very desirous to explore, siipposiiiL; it will conduct them to the f^reat city reported by some Dutch mariners, to exist in this region ; or that it is the Strait of Anian, connecting the Atlantic with the Pacific ' The worthy pilot, however, has no chance of immortalizing himself by running through Smith's river to the city of Man- hattan. The current is against his course and his fame ; and he turns back with the determination of sailing to Acapulco without unnecessary delay. Meantime the Capitana is making all possible speed for La Paz, the harbor selected for her winter quarters. Oc- casionally, in her progress, she is visited by the trading canoes of the Indians. But nothing of moment befals her save that her crew grow more and more sickly, till she reaches a large island lying east of Santa Catarina, when only three persons beside the Captain-General are able to keep the deck. There is no conversation, no mirth on board ! Orders are conveyed in the quiet tone of conversation! The good Padre Andrew moves quietly about among the siel the sole physician, nurse, priest and confessor of that gloomy hospital ! Now he bears medicine to the sick, and smoothes their pillow ; now he administers the extreme unction, and anoints with holy oil the dying ; now he seals the lips and closes the eyes of the dead ! Prayers and groans alone are heard ; except when the burial service is hurriedly chanted, and the sudden plunge announces that some one is gone from among them for ever ! These terrible afflictions induce the General to abandon his intention of wintering at La Paz, and to run directly for the islands of Mazatlan, where he can procure better treatment for his dying crew. On the third of February he reaches the island of San Hilario and passes on to Cerros. Here he stops and obtains a supply of wood and water. On his departure, he leaves letters and signals for the frigate, in case she should touch there, and turns his prow for Cape San Lucas. He reaches it on the fourteenth of February, and standing directly TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIAS, 147 miross the mouth of the Gulf, enters a harbor near the ishuul of Mazatlan on the seventeenth of the same month. An account of his condition being sent to the Viceroy, he determines to ^'i in person to San Sebastian, a vilhige about eight leagues fiom the harbor, for more immediate aid. lie starts on tl)e nine- teenth with five of his soldiers. But being utterly ignorant of the country, they take the wrong path, and wander two days in the wood without food or water. At length they fall into a broad beaten road, and while resting themselves by the way- side, a drove of mules, laden with provisions, comes along. These are going from Castile to Culiacan. The General learns from the muleteers that an old friend of his has become the Alcalde of the latter place, and immediately accepts their offer to convey himself and soldiers thither. At this town they are furnished with every comfort for themselves and those on board the ship. The poor seamen and Padres ! They are now reduced to the most lamentable condition ! Helpless, covered with ulcers, and unable to speak or eat ! Among other things that are sent them, is a kind of fruit which is considered a specific for this disease. It bears among the natives the cognomen, Xocohviltzcs. It resembles an apple. The leaves of the plant are exactly like those of the pineapple. The fruit grows in clusters. The rind or shell is yellow, and contains a pulp full of seeds. Its flavor is slightly tart. Its medical properties are such that it cleanses the mouth reduces the gums, fastens the teeth, heals the ulcers, piirifies the blood, &c. Its virtues were acci- dentally discovered by an officer who was attending the burial of a victim to this frightful disease, from his own ship. He was himself somewhat infected, and passing under a tree, plucked and ate some of the fruit, ^a few minutes he voided from the mouth a large quantity of purulent matter, mingled with blood. The soreness was at the same time much relieved, and the gums contracted upon the teeth so that they no longer rattled in his mouth. The poor seamen and soldiers have suflfered most deplorably from this malady. By the ase in 148 fc C E N £ S IN T 11 K 1' A C I K I C !■ of this fruit they begin to recover. Nor have the Padres been less afflicted. Such is the concUtion of their hands and mouths, that the crucifixes which they have held and often caressed, while the disease has been devouring their frames, are covered with a filthy gore ! Their couches, as well as those of the crew, arc masses of putrid matter ! But now all are creep- ing on deck ; the ship and its appurtenances are cleansed ; their rotting frames begin to heal! On the 21st of March they are so far restored that the Capitana puts to sea, and after a pleasant sail of eight days, moors in the bay of Aca- pulco. When her anchor runs, and the pallid forms of the few survivors are seen at the bulwarks, the horrid spectacle chills every tongue! The people gather on the shore in silence. But soon mothers call the names of those who, many months before, have been buried in the sea ! Fathers seek their sons whose graves the wolves have opened in the forest of San Diego ! Mothers, in the excess of maternal sorrow, demand of the Captain-General their offspring, who have fall- en, muscle and bone, morsel by morsel, before the terrific pestilence ! A few recognize among the living, the disfigured countenances of their friends, and rushing on board embrace them with loud lamentations ! The Almiranta rides hard by The frigate arrives in as deplorable a state as the Capitana. Her crew is reduced to a number scarcely sufficient to remem- ber the sufTerings and the names of those who have died. Thus terminates the voyage of Viscayno. He has explored the whole Pacific coast of Upper and Lower California. CHAPTER IX. A.D. 1615— A.D. 1633-4— Don Pedro Portel de Cossanatc— A.D. 1647— AD. 166G-7— A.D. 1683— Indians— A Battle— All busy— Orders from Mexico — Ships dispatched — A Garrison and Church— An Elx- pcdition into the Interior — Despatches arrive — A Determination- Padre Kino— Padre Juan Maria Sai.va Tiekha — The Jesuits — Powers granted — Salva Tierra goes to California — The Resurrection- Inso- lence — An Attack — A Repulse— A General Onset — A Route — Peace — Arrival of Padre Piccolo — An Exploration— Condition of the Conquest Salva Tierra goes to Senora for Food— An Expedition to the Gila and Colorado of the West by Padres Kino and Salva Tierra — Return to Senora — Padre Salva Tierra leaves for California — Another Expedi- tion to the Gila and Colorado by Padres Kino and Gonzales — Indians and Rivers— Death— Last Days of Padre Kino— A lost Grave. No other expedition of any moment is undertaken to Cali- fornia until 1615, when Captain Juan Iturbi obtains a license for making a voyage at his own expense. One of his two ships is captured by a Dutch pirate. With the other he reaches the coast of Cinaloa, and procures supplies from a Je- suit Missionary, Padre Ribas, preparatory to crossing the Gulf. But before leaving port he is ordered out to convoy the Philippine ship to Acapulco. This done, he returns to Mexico, and by exhibiting the pearls he has taken fires anew the wonder and cupidity of the whole country. The Califor- nian pearl fisheries are soon thronged. A few find what they desire, but an infinitely greater number are disappointed. The results, however, lead to the granting of a license to Francisco de Ortega to make a voyage up the Gulf. He sails in March, 1632. Accompanying him is Padre Diego de la Nava, the newly appointed Vicar-general of California. On the second of May they land at San Barnabe bay ; and having made a special survey of the coast from this point to I ft- I, M t I #; )'' 150 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC La Paz and purchased some pearls of the Indians, they touch at Cinaloa, and in June go thence to report their proceedings to the Viceroy. In 1G33 and '34, Capt. Ortega makes two other voyrges for the purpose of forming a settlement in Cali- fornia ; but finds the country so barren that he is obliged to abandon his design. He now proposes to have a garrison es- tablished at some proper point for colonizatioii, and a sum of money granted from the royal treasury to maintain settlers for a definite period. But while he is agitating these measures, he has the mortification to learn that his pilot, Carboneli, has not only obtained a license for making a voyage, but asserts the practicability of settling the country farther north, with- out depending on the government for supplies.. This j.'lot sails in 1636 ; but to his chagrin nowhere finds such a coun- try as he has promised ; and, after obtaining a few pearls, re- turns to confess his failure. After this, an expedition is undertaken at Ilis Majesty's ex- pense. The governor of Cinaloa receives orders to pass over to California and survey the islands, bays, coast and face of the country, preparatory to making a chart for the use of na- vigators. He does so. Padre Jacinto Cortez, a missionary of Cinaloa, accompanies him in order to ascertain if it be practicable to Christianize the Indians. They complete the survey in July, 1642, and soon after send their charts, pearls, and other things procured, to the Viceroy. A change is now taking place at Mexico. The Viceroy, Don Diego Lopez Pacheco, Marquis de Vil'ena and Duke of Esclona, returns to Spain under suspicion, and is succeeded by D>''ii Juan de Palalbx. The Marquis successfully vindi- cates himself against the malicious cl-.argcs of his enemies, and procures an expedition to California to be ordered under Admiral Don Pedro Portel de Cassanato. This min is em- powered to build and equip fleets, and make setliements in California, and do such other acts as he may deem best calcu- lated to bring the natives of that country into the church The 1 TRAVELS IN TIIK CAI. IFORNIAS. 151 spiritual welfare of this expedition is committed to Padres Jacinto Cortez and Andrc/- l^aes, Missionaries of Cinaloa. Having arrived at Cinaloa, Cassanate receives instructions to go out and me';t the Philippine ship which it is feared will fall into the hands of English or Dutch pira'es. He brings her safely in ; and while he is making prt-parations to sail again to California, two of his ships are burned. Discourag- ing as this circumstance is, he resolves not to be defeated by it. Two others are built at Cinaloa in 1647-8, in which he sails to the place of destination. But he finds the country, as far as he explores it, barren and dry. Before he completes his survey, however, he receives orders to go a second time and conduct a Philippine s)>ip into Acapulco. This done, he proceeds to lay the results oi his expedition before the Viceroy. This excellent man is soon after promoted to the Goverp.- ment of Chili ; and California is neglected till U,65, when Philip IV. again orders its reduction. The execution of this effort is entrusted to Don Bernado Bernal de Pinadero. But the Spanish treasury is now exhausted ; the nation and its colonies are impoverished. Two small vessels only, therefore, are built in the Valle de Vonderas. In 166G they sail to the coast , rob the poor natives of some pearls, and make their way back to report that expedition also, a failure. The Queen mo'ier, acting as Regent, orders Pinadero to make anothei attempt. In this he is accompanied by the celebrated Padue Kino. This likewise results in neihing valuable. In the fol- lowing year Fnmcisco Luzenilla obtains a license for a voy- age at his own expense. This proves, like all others, fruit- less of results worthy of note. 7n 16G7, the importance of making a settlement in CalHornia for a rendezvous of ships trading to the Pliilippinc Islands, is again brought before the Council of the Indies; and it is hnaliy detennined to instruct the Viceroy and the Archbishop of Mexico to send out Admi- ral Pinadero again, if he will give pecurty lor the perform- ance of that duty according to the decrees of Council; and if ht decline, t > make the oder to any person who will under- 23 mmmmmmm *' ^ ' IJ2 8 »■ K N i; s IN r 11 i: I' A (• 1 1" I r. take it, iit liis owti ('XjXMisr ; iiiiil if none so oIHt, it is ordered lo 1h> ai'Cdinplislicd al (he fX|)i'iiso of llu* rrowii. A«liuiial PiiiadtMo liaviiif:^ rdnsi'd. Admiral Otoiido aciTpts tin* ])roposi- tiou. The spiritual (lovcrmnt'iit is conlii'ncd on llic Ji-siiits. Padiu: Kino as siipi'iior, and Pathcs Coparl and (Joni acrom- paiiy tlu expedition. They put t*' sea iVoni Cliacala on the oiixhleonlh of May, 1()S.'J, and in fonrleen days reach l/i l*a/. They IhinU it sin>;ular, on landinu;, not to see any Indians ; hut as soon as they heti,in to i-reet a pjarrison, eonsideiahie ninnheis appear, armed and hideously painted, who ititiniate hy si<;ns that the Spaniards must leave their eomitry. Alh'r scMue t'llort, liow- ever, on the part oftlu* Padr«'s, and nnifornj kindness from the oiliet-rs. soldiers and seamen, their nilereoursi; liecoiues apparently imeonstrained and iViendly. Soon, however, eir- eumstanees oeeur which arouse suspicion. The reported murder of a mulatto hoy, added to some indii!;nities towarcis the f:;arrison, indicate the need of threat watchfulness on the part of the voyau;ers. Danij^er luiks ni'ar them. The (luaya- euros amon^!; whom thev sojourn, oiler to unite with their enemies, the t^oras, for the «'xlirpation of the Spaniards, The (^nas iippi'ar to entertain the proposition, hut report it to the Admiral on their earliest opportunity. The soldiers are thrown into sueha panic hy the discinery of this plot, that the Admi- ral and Padres an> oltlii!:t>d to exert all f!\eir authority and persuasion to induce them to meet the event with fortitude. The day of the intended massacre anives. 'I'he Indians ap- j)ear, to the ntnnher o[' thirti-en or fourteen hundred. A pa- deirro, or eainion, is tired anionic them, hy which ten or twelve are killed and several wounded. The reinaiiiiler retire in confusion to their rancherias. The jj^arrisnn is safe ; no one even wounded. Put this victory does not (lisi(iura!',e their fear of the Indians. The dry crags, the treeless sands and thirsty torrent-chasms are, to the anxious minds of the timid men, peopled with formsof death ; and every howl of the lean wolf upon the heit^hls, grates like I i: \ V I. I I N r II r I All I .) i; I A )ll n I'oiiiii screw on their ciirs Oloi 1(1(1 IS, 11 leiclorc, (ihllL'Ci I to \V( it^li ;iiuli(ir lor iria(|iii on llic Sciiorii sIkhc. Herein' sells all his pcinis, aiui pledges his plate ior stores. I.ilvc a hravo man heiil on his etiir from shore. Near this they estahlisli a (jjar- ini riso; ild a rude ehureh, and some huts. .And now Otondo sends , .-'o >-!iips to M( it I exifo Willi an accdiin t of I us j)rocee( I- inj^s, and a re(|iiesl for more money ; takes possessirui ol" the country in the name of the kin^ ; ^oes filly leajri us westward in the mouth oi I h'eemiiet amnntr nioiintains and des( it vales ; ascends an elevation, where he finds sev<'ral lea(^ues of tahic land, with a temperate elimale and a fresh-water lake of small si/e ; advances heyond, on a toilsomi! journey over steeps and depths, in search of a peak from which to see the Pacilie. Ocean ; lads to do so, and returns to San Bruno. The Indians whom (hey meet are much delighted willi \\\v paternal kindness of the Padres. Otondo employs himself a year in like ex- plorations at dilferenl points alonfjj the coa.;'. The I'adres are husy meantime in learninctobcr, 1G97, with five soldiers, Estevan liodriguejs Lorenzo. Bartolem de Robles Figueroa, Juan Caravana, Nicolas Marques, and Juan, witii their commander, Don Luis de Torres Tortolero, embarks for the sc^ne of his future trials, A great raotal hero, with his little band, kneeling in prayer on the deck ola gailiut, liound fir tlie cmtpiest of California ' The sails are loosened to the witrtiiis ; they leave th'; harbor; I IL^ ■!■»■(«» iii 11 1 1 $ w ■ ' f] *' % 156 S C E N K S IN THE P A (^ I F I C but they have prncccdcd liaidly a league, when a squall comes on, which strands thcin on the beach. All now appear to be lost. But they save themselves in the long-boat ; and when the tide rises, the gailiet iloats again, and proceeds on her voyage. A holy voyage is begun ; its consequences are full of hope to man ! On the thirteenth they touch at San Bruno, in California, and at San Dionysio, ten leagues south of San Bruno. At the latter place, (ilty Inilians receive them with joy. A fine watering-place, discovered in a deep and fruitful glen, indi- cates the place for an encampment. The provisions, bag- gage, aii9 the wickedness of their acts ; and jiroiuises them peace, friendship, and other good things, if tlieir husbands prove true to their league. And receiving one of the children in Older to remove all suspicion from their minds, sends them to tlieir friends and homes with shouts and other demonstrations of great joy. And now night comes on in this vast waste of burned mountains ! The little chapel is opened for worship. Special " thanks are returned to God, His most holy mother, and Saint Stanislaus for his manifold favors." On examining the camp next morning, it is found " that most of the arrows stick in the pedestal of the cross; whilst the cross itself, and tent which serves for a chapel to ' oiir lady of Loretto,' are untouched." None of the garrison are killed ; two only are wounded. These are the brave Tortolero and Figueroa ; and they adore the holy cross as the standard of their faith ; " they sing Ave Maria to our lady as their Captain, and unanimously determine to remain in the country." This garrison is called Loretto, To it, for many years to come, will centre the events of the country. Even now it is a bright and lone starry point : the only lamp of truth that burns, from Cape San Lucas to the north pole, is at Loretto. The only civilized men that live on all that extent of coast, breathe this first night after the battle, with their hands clenched on their guns, in the tents of the garrison at Loretto in Lower Calilbrnia ! On the twenty-third of November a long-boat arrives from Senora with Padre Francisco Maria Piccolo — a missionary among the Tarahuraares, who has left his former field of toil, for this new one in California. Padrk Salva Tierra has, by his arrival, a companion at his prayers, and in his labor among these savages. The soldiers now erect some works of defence within the camp ; the trench is enlarged and fortified with a palisade and thorny branches of trees ; a chapel is built of mortar and stone, with thatched roof, lor the image of "our Lady of Loretto ;" three other structures are raised, one for tliO Padres, one far the Captain, and one for a magazine j and 1 i I ; I r 1 160 fi r K N i; s I N r ii k p a c i r i c near to thoso are raised the l)iiirac;ks. The Padres employ themselves with the IikHuus. A small tribe is allowed to take up quarters near the camp. The native priests, penieivinji; liy this movement of their people, that their authority is (ninini>liing, raise a party to op- pose the Padres. They steal a h-ng-boat and break it in pieces j attack a party in pursuit of them and are driven from the ground ; repent, and are again received into favor by the forgiving Padres. Don Pedro Gil de la Sierpe sends Padre Salva Tieb- RA a bark called San Fiimiii, and a long-boat called San Xavier. With these they bring wood, fruits, and horses and cattle, from the opposite coast of Senora. The Padres under- stand the Indian languages ; they also have horses to bear them in their travels ; and they undertake, in the beginning of the year 1699, to explore dilTerent parts of the country. Padres Salva Tierra and Piccolo visit a place called Londo, eight leagues northward from Loretto. Here is found a populous village and some tillable land. But the inhabitants flee as the Padres approach. They call it San Juan de Lon- do. Next they attempt to penetrate Vigge Biaundo, lying south of Loretto. On the tenth of May, the soldiers, after much suffering among the rugged precipices, relusing to go farther, Padre Piccolo determines to go alone, and climbs the precipices till he comes to a village, where he is received by the savages with the most cordial demonstrations of love. He instructs them four days ; names the place San Xavier, and departs. Some portions of this mountain valley can be ir- rigated and tilled for grains and fruit trees. The neighboring heights are craggy and barren ; about their bases are some fine pasture lands. From San Xavier, Padre Piccolo goes westward to the sea, and explores its coast in vain for a harbor and habitable lands. During this journey he discovers, four leagues southwest from San Xavier, a large village of tractable Indians. They reside on the head waters of a fine stream running westward into the Pacific; — a beautiful spot among a dreary desolation, •r II A V r '. "i IV T mi: f \ • i f o n \ i a s ICI wliicli li" cnnsocratt'S to Sun Rosalia. At San Xavier, dMrm^ Lis absence, the Indians and soldiers liavr huilt with snii-di icd hrifks some small houses and a chapel. The Indians from San l{')salla are there ; and I^adiik Sai.va TiKuitA conMcrates the ('hapi'l to San Xavier, with i!;reat devotion and joy. Thijs done, Padre Piccolo is lett in charge at San Xa\itT, and Pa- DRK Sai.va TiEnriA returns to Loretto. The shippin'j; of the mission at this time consists of two ves- sels, the San Firmin and San Josef, and the long-boat San Xavier. The number of settlers already in California of Spa- niards, lialf-brecils, and Mexican Indians, is six hundred per- sons ; and as the means of supplying them with food from the country produce, has not increased in proportion, it becomes necessary to redouble their diligence to obtain them elsewhere From Mexico they can export nothing, for the Captain of the Garrison at Loretto, having been prevented from using the converls in the pearl fishery, and thus ruining their health, and the Pailre's hope of rearing them for Heaven, has, by his misrepresentations of these benevolent men, rendered inell'ec- tual Padre Ugarte's elForts in that quarter. Unfortunately also at this juncture, the two ships of the California missions are cast away \ Nothing is lett them now but the long-boat ! Distress is creeping upon them ! The fearful, maddening ex- pectation of starving to death begins to be talked of in Loret- to, when Padrk Sj>.lva Tieura takes the leaky long-boat and goes to th^ irreat presiding genius of the missions, Pauri: Kino, in Senora ir relief. These Padres are devoted friends. They meet and embrace each other warmly, and relate, in the shades of a beautiful evening, all the hardships which have befallen them ; and the success that has attended their labors among the savag s. Padkk Sai.va Tn:uKA has reduced the Indians for the space of fifty leagues about Loi • tto ; founded four towns, in which are six hundred Indian Christians ; two thousand adult Catechumens, besides many children ^ all of whom are now starving ! Padrk Kino entered Senora in 1687. He was appointed to • ^, .^v^ o St^j^. IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) /. ^ >^4 1.0 1.1 11.25 Ui|2j8 4^ s 'H 162 8CENKS IN THE PACIFIC tho lonely missions in the neighborhood of the Indians in the npper country, called Pimeria Alta, a district extending three hundred miles to the northward of Senora, and embracing the vallies of the Gila and the Colorado. He went alone among these wild Indians ; learned their language ; formed them into communities ; prevailed upon them to cultivate grains and raise cattle ; and, by the aid of subordinate agents, has reformed their civil polity; and indoctrinated them in the mysteries and hopes of the Catholic faiih. And such is the reverent love of these savages for the excellent Padre that they greet him everywhere as little children do a kind parent, who comes to bless and love them. This influence he uses only for their good. He procures from his Sovereign an edict against their being seized by the Spaniards and immersed in the mines to labor till dead ! He acquaints the Vice-Royal Government at Mexico that the military powers often accuse them of rebel- lion, and make war upon them for the base purpose of taking them captives to dive for pearls and dig in the mountains for the precious metals, and procures a cessation of such barbari- ty. This is a great work of mercy. For previously, in all those regions, it has been customary for the civil and military authorities to make the Indians labor on the lands or in the mines five years after their conversion. They pay for Chris- tianity in their hearts by the servitude of their bodies. And seldom do the poor Indians live to be free again, after this chain of avarice is put upon them. Very many are the cluj- ters of little wooden crosses, near these mines, which stand over the graves of those who have been worked to death in their deep and dismal depths ! Padrk Kino gives them liber- ty ; builds them houses and chapels ; teaches them agricul- ture and many other useful arts. Their animals now range on a thousand hills ; their ploughs turn the soil of a thousand fields ; and their li?lfries send their peals for prayer and praise up a thousand vales ! Such is the result of the labors of Padre Kino in Pimeria, and such the happy condition of the numerous tribes of In- TRAVELS IN THE f A T. I F R N I A S lf.3 dians on the \H'aters of the Gila and Colorado in the year 17C0. These Padres have wrought well in the vineyards of the Fallh. And they are now met to converse about the fate of these la- bors. They have learned that malice has destroyed their in- terest in Mexico and Spain. They know that the lives of the garrison at Loretto depend on their sole enert^y and nunnv;. And well would it be for the distressed everywhere if the re- lief which they need were dependent on snch hearts and heails as those of the Padres Kino and Salva Tu-.uka. The Indi.in farms are laid under contribution, and the keel of genuiiie mercy is fast cutting its way to Loretto to feed the dyino; ' Words, wishes, speeches, associations, societies, general and special committee rooms, and newspapers devotetl to " the cause," are the outlets and substance of benevolence in the seventeenth century — an untiring chase after the shade of a great idea. In the seventeenth, these hated priests of ;in odious order, whose name has come to be the common tcim of the most refined knavery, and even introduced into our lexicons as the appellation for the basest villany, perform nets of the highest virtue, endure hardships of the severest charnc- ter, and make sacrifices of the noblest nature, for a class of beings who will never have intelligence enough to appreciate them. After succors are sent to California, these Padres agree to explore the northwest country, in order to ascertain whether California be an island, or whether it be merely a peninsula. This question is deemed of great moment to the missions in California ; for if supplies can be sent by land from Padke Kino's mission to Loretto, the expense of shipping to carry them across *he Gulf will be avoided, and the certainty of their arrival much increased. Accordingly, it is agreed that Padres Kino and Salva Tierra shall take did r- ent routes towards the Colorado. They determine to visit, on the way, T*adre Kino's converts at the several missions in that region, and meet at Mission de Dolores. Accordingly Padre Salva Tierra goes by San Ignacio, _'i 164 St K N i: S 1 N T II lu I' A (• I F ! C Ml ;ii » San Diepo de Uciuitoa, and San Dicpo dc Pitquin, to river Caborca, and follows its covirse to Tjbutama, Axi, Concepcion de Caborca ; while Padrk Kino takes the route by Cocospera, San Simon and Jude ; strikes the river Caborca and follows its banks through Tierra Tibutama, and other villages, to the place of rendezvous. Thence the Padres, accompanied by ten soldiers, go northward to San Eduanio de Baissia, San Luis de Bacapa, and thence twelve leagues to San Marcello. This latter place lies northeast from the mouth of the river Colorado, fifty leagues north of the latitude of the Gila, the same distance from the river Ca- borca and the same distance eastward from San Xavier del Bac. The soil of this valley is fit for tillage and pasturage, and abounding in water for all uses. It is surrounded by deserts and lofty mountains. Here they are informed by the Indians of two ways to approach the mouth of the Colorado ; the one to the right over the mountains and valley of Santa Clara, the other and the shorter along the coast over a broad tract of sands. The Padres desire to examine the coast, and for this reason, unfortunately, choose the latter route. They travel thirty leagues on the south side of the mountains in search of the Gulf ; pass a large section of the mountains, composed of pumice stone ; and on the nineteenth of March, a.Tive at the sandy waste. On the twentieth, Padre Kino and Captain Mateo Mange, ascend a lofty peak in Lat. 30^ N., and not only see the Gulf but the opposite shore and mountains of California. On the twenty-first they reach the beach. Want of fresh water, and the difficulty of wading in the loose and burning sand, compels them to return to Marcel- lo, and take a higher track, in Lat. 32^ 30', where they ascend a bill of moderate height, from which are clearly seen the moun- tains of California, the termination of the Gulf, the mouth of the Colorado, the junction of California with the continent ! The Padre Kino joyfully returns to San Marcello to build a church and give directions for a new mission, while Salva Tierra goes to Caborca Delores and the other missions of Senora, collect- T U A V K L S IN THE C A L t F R N I A S . 165 ing charities for California, and with heightened expectations of saving the lives of his friends at Loretto, ships himself and them in the old long-boat San Xavier at the mouth of the river Hiaqui, and arrives at Loretto the latter end of April, 1701. Joy fills the camp on the arrival of the good Padre ; and earnest thanksgivings are offered in the chapel by his spiritual children on account of his return. Here we leave California for a brief space to follow good old Padre Kino through the labors of his last days. In No- vember of 1701 he takes another excursion to San Marcello by a new route, and thence onward to the Gila. He fords this river at San Dionysio near its junction with the Colorado ; and having viewed the neighboring country, repasses the Gila and descends the Colorado twenty leagues, among the villages of the Yumas and Quinquimas. Here vast numbers of Indians come to see the Padre and hear him speak of the white man's God. The Colorado at this place is two hundred yards wide. The Indians swim it. If they desire to take anything across, it is placed in a water-tight basket, made of rushes and herbs called Corysta, and floated along before them. Padre Kino crosses the river on a raft made of tree-tops, and finds on the other shore, great numbers of Quinquimas, Coanopas, Bagio- pas and Octguanes Indians, to whom he explains, by means of interpreters, the nature of the true God and the after state. He travels on foot three leagues to the residence of the chief of the Quinquimas. The country over which he passes is level, and covered with a soil fit for tillage and grazing. He calls the place Presentacion de Nuestra Senora. In this neigh- borhood he sees ten thousand Indians. Padre Kino is very desirous of travelling to Monterey and Cape Mendocino. But it being impossible for his animals to ford the river, he reluctantly gives up the hope of progressing farther, and returns to his missions in Pimeria. In February, 1702, Padre Kino journeys in company with Martin Gonzales. On the twenty-eighth they arrive at San Dio- nysio, at the junction of the Gila and Colorado. On t le way I iv 166 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. and at this place the Indians throng the path of this good man, kneeling like children to a loved grandsire for a blessing. In March they advance as far .is the village of the Quin- quimas, and name it San Iludesindo. These Indians show much love towards the Padres, and even towards the beasts that bear them. The good Padre Gonzales is affected to tears by these demonstrations ; and strips off a part of his own ■wardrobe to clothe an aged man who follows him. They now travel down the Colorado to its entrance into the Gulf. Here many Indians come from the western shore and entreat the Padres to pass over into their country. They learn from them that the Pacific is ten days' journey from this place. The night of the tenth is spent at the point where the river and the Gulf meet. The tide rises very high and swashes near their couches ; horned night-owls hoot on the crags ; Padre Gon- zales groans with extreme illness ! These Padres have de- signed to cross the river at this place, and travel over the mountains to the Pacific Ocean. But Padre Kino sees the necessity of returning with his sick brother. He succeeds in getting him to the mission of Tibutama, where he dies. Death in the wilderness, to one who goes into its depths to sow the seeds of salvation, is sweet. The desires of the mind touch the earth lightly. Their objects are things of thought and trust. The hand of hope is laid on the skies ! The eye follows it to the temple of immortal faith ; is absorbed and fixed there, to the exclusion of everything material. Tha pains incident to the separation of the living principle from the body, are like brambles which one passes to fields of flowers and fruits, singing birds, pebbly streams, and odorous shades. And the grave itself becomes in truth the pass-way only to the full enjoyment of the proper objects of the moral sense, without limit or satiety. So this missionary dies, and is buried among the graves of Indian Christians at Tibutaim. The years 1703, 1704, and 1705, Padke Kino spends m building up the missions of Pimeria, and in resisting the per- secution raised against him because he will not permit the TRAVELS IN THE CAI. IFORNIAS. 167 owners of the mines and plaiitiitions to enslave his converts. Havinnj no one to assist liiin in so wide a province, he is al- most constantly travelling from one mission to another, ex- horting, encouraging, disciplining, and protecting his spiritual children. These dulies task severely the tottering strength of the good old man. But he labors without intermission or discouragement, as he ripens for his reward. Nor does his ardent interest in the Californian missions abate. Every few months he forwards to Loretto his largesses of provisions and animals. But as the expense of supporting shipping for that purpose becomes more and more apparent and perplexing, he determines once more to attempt an exploration of a land route, by which supplies can be sent from the mission on the Gila down the coast to Loretto. Accordingly, in 1706, he turns his footsteps again towards the Colorado, in company with the chief military officers of Senora, and the Franciscan monk, Manuel de Ojuela. This last expedition of Padre Kixo results in confirming his previous discoveries. But be- ing unable to penetrate to Loretto, he returns to his missions, and defends them with the same dauntless courage agiiinstthe avarice and cruelty of the miners, and the civil and military powers, till 17 10, when he passes from the scenes of his be- nevolence and trials to his grave. There are few good men in the world. Consequently, when one of this class dies, there is a jewel lost from the crown of earthly virtue. ALL feel the loss of its light, and grope nearer to the ground in their way onward to their destiny. Padru Kino has given his best energies to the Piraerian and Californian missions. The poor Indians on both sides of the Gulf have been accustomed to eat his bread and receive his blessing. The bells now toll through all Pimeria and Senora, at Loretto and San Xavier. The Indians kneel in their rude chapels, and pray for his soul, and invoke for him the good fellowship of departed saints. Padre Kino is buried among the heights of Pimeria, the scene of his trials and hopes. His grave is lost among the driving sands of those desolate re- gions; but his good deeds will live for ever 25 ' 1 • (I J !l .,1 "----=;$ CHAPTER X. Meeting of Pa nil Es Salva TrERUA and Ugarte— A Pint— Burning of San Xavier— Urrarte at San Xavicr— Famine — A Runaway — A Murder — A Campaign— Rejoicings— A Tempest — An Arrival of Food and Sol- diers — Measures fur the Advancement of the Conquest — Exploration of the Interior — Saciving of San Xavier — Massacres — A Court Martial — An Execuiion— Peace— Expeditioii to ihc North— Distress — A Council, and its Results — Endurance— Roaming and Starving— An Attack — Sai.va TiERiJA l(;ave-; California— His Return — Extension of the Con- quest — Ligui, nnd a great Example — A Chastisement — A murderous Attempt— Mulege—Caila Kaaman — The Triumph of the Good— Poi- son — Dcaili. DuuiNo the absence of Padre Salva Tiekra in Piraeria, Padre U<]farte has arrived at Loretto with a few supplies. The meeting of these two men in that distant land is warm and hearty. They have labored long in the same cause — have hoped ardently for the same result — the growth of the tree of life on the shores of California. The one has used his utmost energies at Mexico and Guadalaxara to prociire the means to support the other, while breaking up the ground and casting in the seed. And when all his efforts are closing in disappointment, and the dark night of malice is casting gloom over them, and his expectations are giving place to despair, he flies to his fellow-laborer in the wilderness, to die with him, if need be, in a last struggle to bring the Californian Indians within the fold of the Catholic faith. After thanks are rendered to God for the favor of meeting again, the Pa- dres earnestly resolve to sustain the sinking missions. It is agreed, therefore, that Padre Piccolo shall go to Mexico and mak'e farther trial to obtain funds for that purpose. He ac- cordingly puts to sea, but is driven back by a tempest; and again he leaves the harbor, but is again compelled to return. T n A V i: I. s IN T II K (; a 1. 1 k o r n i a s 169 These unfavorable trials induce him to postpone his voyage to a more favorable season. He returns, therefore, to his mission at San Xavier, and Padre Ugarte remains at Loretto with Padkk Salva Tikkka, to learn the Indian language, and assist wherever his services may be needed. Another class of events now transpire which change some- what the aspect of alFairs among them, and give hope of better things, Tho military commandant, who has, by his misrepresentations, rendered abortive the efforts of Padre Ugarte, at Mexico, finds that the authorities will not relieve him from subordination lo tlie Padres, nnd resigns. Captain Don Antonio (iarcia de Meudoza is therefore succeeded by one Isadore de Figueroa. This man, however, proves unworthy of his trust in a dilliculty with the savages of San Xavier. The Indians of that mission plan the murder of Padre Piccolo. And led on by the conjurors, or priests of their old religion, they come down upon the few converts who remain faithful, with such violence as to get possession of the premises ; and enraged at the Padre's escape to Loretto, burn the mission buildings and furniture. A number of the converts have been killed in this outbreak ; the fields of San Xavier, the only grounds within the limits of the missions on which grain can be grown, are laid waste ; the success of the savages in this instance will embolden them to attack Loretto. All these, as reasons, determine the Padres to send Captain Figueroa with his soldiers to chastise them and recover the mission. Accordingly he marches his troops to San Xavier. The In- dians flee before him. The soldiers desire to pursue them. But the commander forbids it ; and otherwise shows such a want of courage and manliness, that the soldiers depose hirn, and elect in his stead, Don Estevan Rodriguez Lorenzo, who leads them in pursuit among the breaks of the moun* tains ; but without success. At the end of this year, 1700, Padre Ugarte having learn- ed the Indian language, and the Indians of San Xavier having become satisfied and peaceable, it is resolved to rebuild the .. I I 170 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC mission and put it under his charge. Accordingly he leaves Loit'tto ior that purpose. But on arriving there, the Indians, through tear of the soldiers that accompany him, run into the mountains. The Padre, nowise discouraged hy this circum- stance, takes up his quarters on the site of the hurneJ mission, and awaits their return. Meanwhile the soldiers, not having Indians to serve them, prove troublesome. They abuse the Padre and one another in such manner that he determines to trust himself with the Indians, rather than any longer suffer their insolent behavior; and accordingly sends them back to Loretto. After the departure of the soldiers. Padre Ugarte remains alone all day about the ashes of the mission and the graves of those who were killed at the time it was destroyed ! He does not know how soon they will fall upon him likewise, and take his lile. Night comes on and passes away ; and he is yet alone. At daylight a little Indian lad coraes shyly, about the Padre's couch ; is treated kindly by him; examines the fields, and hastily returns to his tribe: and shortly afterward the good Padre is surrounded by hun- dreds of Indians rejoicing at his arrival, and protesting that soldiers are disagreeable members of their community. The Padre and the Indians now unite their enoriries to rebuild the mission. The first labor of Ugarte is, to secure their regular attendance on the catechising, the prayers and mass ; and by kind and affable treatment, to alienate them from their sorcer- ers ; the second is, to accustom them to till the land and take care of the cattle. To accomplish these objects he induces them early in the morning to attend mass ; after which he feeds those who will engage in erecting the church or clear- ing the land for cultivation, or making trenches for irrigation, or digging holes for planting trees, or preparing the ground for sowing seed. In the progress of these labors the good Padre works more than any of thera. He is overseer, brick- layer and farmer. He is first in bringing stones, first in treading clay for mortar, in mixing sand, cutting, carrying, bringing timber, removing earth and fixing materials ; some- T R A V E T, S t V T IT F. C A I, I F R N f A S . 171 liiivs spiidiij^- up the |:;roun(l, somctiini'S splitlin"^ rock with il I'id.vi)!!!', .soiihliiu js tmuiii'j; watiT into the trotichcs, and ill (ithrrs h'iidini; the beasts ami cattle, which l»o has procurcni liir his aiission, to pasture and to water, liy his oN^'n ex- ample he teaches them to tiirow <>'F their natural sloth, to feed themselves anil live like rational beings. But this great ex- ample (Iocs not sufTice to wean tlicm from a love of the woods, and a listless and starving- inaction. A thousand times they try his patience, by coining late to mass and to work, and by running away and jeering him, and sometimes threatening and forming combinations to take his life. All this the old man bears with unwearied patience, kindness, and holy fortitude. In the evening the Piidre leads them again to their devotions. At this time the rosary is prayed over, and the catechism ex- plained ; and this service is followed by the distribution of some provisions. At first these Indians jest and jeer at the service, and mock at what he says. This the Padre bears patiently, till he finds forbearance increases the evil, and then makes a very dan- gerous attempt to suppress it. An Indian in high repute among his fellows for physical strength, stands near him during service, and mocks at all that he does. The other In- dians, regarding bodily strength as the only quality of great- ness, are vastly pleased that their champion seems the superiot of the Padre. Ugarte perceives by their bearing, that he is losing their confidence. He therefore seizes the savage, in the midst of his profanity, by the hair of his head, and swings him to and fro, with determined violence, till he begs for quar- ter. This so frightens the tribe that they afterwards behave with strict decorum when engaged in religious duties. The work of building the mission edifices, however, goes on slowly. The Padre, careful not to weary his Indians with labor, at fre- quent intervals instructs their stupid minds in the best methods of performing their tasks, and most especially, in the know- ledge of their Maker. In succeeding years he enjoys the pleasure of seeing his neophytes well instructed in the doc- \ih 179 SCKNKS IN THE PACIFIC trinps of the Catholic Church, iniircti to patient lahor, and residing in cfJinlbilable houses. lie has turneil the mountain streams along the crags, and (Jm:i:2,cd the barren dust of the mountains into cultivated fields, burdened with harvests of wheat, maize, and other t'rains. He even makes generous wines, sulficient to supply the missions in California, and an overplus to exchiingc in Mexico for other goods. He like- wise breeds horses and sheep, cattle and mules. Indeed, such is the success of Pudre Ugurte's fortitude and industry, that in 1707 lie becomes ihc Purvcyor-deneral ol' the missions, and relieves them by the produce of his converts' labor, from some of (he fears of starvation on that desolate coast. Thus has this excellen' man, in the course of seven years, opened, by his indlvi«Iuai Inducnce on the Californian Indians, a largo plantation, the products of which, in favorable seasons, feed thousands of savages and seven hundred whites. His eflbits now take .mother direction. His sheep, brought origi- nally from the opposite coast, have increased to such an ex- tent, as to yield large quantities of wool. This the Padre determines shall be made to clothe his naked Indians. He, therefore, with his own hands, makes spinning-wheels, looms, and other weaving apparatus, and teaches his Indians to use them. In order to perfect them in these manufactures, he obtains a master weaver, one Antonio Moran, from Tepic, under a salary of five hundred dollars per annum, to instruct them in weaving, and various other handicrafts. By these new manufactures, the missions are saved vast expenses for sail-cloth and baize. The Indians are clad ; the grains and vegetables, although not a full supply, are ordinarily suf- ficient to prevent famine. The cattle and the other animals being added to these, suffice to meet the necessities of the Californian missions. A deed of true benevolence performed, where human praise can never speak of it, is a jewel in the crown of our nature, which can never be dimmed. How it beams on the robes of the good man as he steps into his grave ! How it glistens in the tear of silent gratitude that is "1l i - I T U A V F. I, S IN THE C A L I F O R \ l A S 173 shed over the tomb of the drad, as agos crmnhle it into dust ! How rich ii h;ilo does it throw buck on all alter time, a rem- nant li^ht ol' liethlehem's holy star, to lead the living to the aame happy use of iheir capacities ! These Indians' remote descendants will forget this good man. But his deeds will live in their virtues. We will now look into the movements of Padres Salva Tii.KUA and Piccolo. Near the end of the year 1701, the pro- visions which Padui; Kino has sent to Loretto, are exhausted, ami Padre Piccolo's departure to Mexico for a supply is has- tened. He sails on the second of December, leaving the Pa- thes, the garrison and Indians in absolute want. For sixty days they subsist on roots, wild fruits, and a few fish which they liud washed up on Ihi- diore. On the twenty-ninth of January, 1702, however, their distress is changed to gladness by the arrival of a boat from Padre Piccolo, laden with meat, maize, and other provisions. This supply, in the bountiful hands of Padui; Salva Tiekka, lasts but a short time ; and want returns upon them with all its horrors. At length the last filthy piece of meat is consumed, and they betake themselves, Indians and Padres and garrison, to the shores for fish, and to the moun- tains for Pitahayas and other fruits and roots. Amidst these sufferings occurs a difficulty with the Indians. A soldier by the name of Poblano has married one of the Indian converts. In the month of June her mother visits her and invites her home to the joyful ingathering of the Pitahayas. They go away in the night unperceivcd, and run to the mountains. The next morning the soldier pursues them a limited distance, but returns unsuccessful. A day or two afterwards, he goes with a Californian Indian near a village, where they hear a great deal of shouting and merriment. An old Indian, whom they meet, advises them to return, because their lives will be en- dano-ered by proceeding. The soldier insults the old man and shoots him. The noise of the discharged musket rouses the village, and the soldier dies, pierced with arrows. His Indian i ! I: T I 174 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC, companion is wounded, but brings to Loretto information of this misfortune. The Padres of San Xavier return to Loretto, and prepare to march in pursuit of the murderers. The Indians, learning this movement, gather all their forces and destroy the corn fields of San Xavier, and a few goats, on whose milk the Pa- dres are subsisting, during this calamitous famine. The sol- diers arrive in time to prevent the destruction of the buildings. At length the parties begin to skirmish, and four of the Indians are killed. But their numbers and violence increase daily. The troops suffer incredible hardship among the preci- pices, and breaks of the mountains. Distress and consterna- tion are beginning to seize them. Death is looked for as inevitable. But they rejoice again; they breathe freely again ; a bark comes over the tranquil and heated sea, with provisions and a recruit of soldiers ; and runners are sent from Loretto to San Xavier, to give all a speedy share of the joy- ful news ; they eat and drink again in the Californian missions ! The Indians are intimidated by the arrival of fresh troops, and submit ; and the grateful Padres give thanks to God in a solemn Te Deum for this unexpected deliverance. Great anxiety is felt in California for the fate of Padre Piccolo. No tidings of him have been received since he left the port of Loretto. He has, however, arrived , safely at Cinaloa, about the first of February, 1702, and sent them supplies ; has hastened thence to Guadalaxara and Mexico ; by indefatigable exertions has obtained six thousand dollars from the Government for the payment of soldiers; and having collected charities from a few individuals, has pur- chased goods for the relief of the most urgent necessities of the missions ; has obtained a guarantee of Don Josef de La Puente Marquis de Villa Puente, for the support of three new missions ; and from Nicolas de Arteaga, an offer to support another ; and from the Government, six hundred dollars per annum thereafter ; has secured the appointment of two Padres, Juan Manuel de Bassaldua and Geronimo Minutili, as mis- (■ T K A V E I- S I N T H V. C A UFO tt N IAS, sionaries to California ; and has purchased a vessel at Aca- pulco, called Nuestra Senora del llnsario; has embarked at AliUanchel with his goods, provisions, his brethren, and some lutisans, for Lorotto. Fine breezes bear them into the Gulf; then a tempest swoops down upon them and compels them to throw overboard that part of the cargo which is stowed on deck ; but helping gales bear them to their destined port, on the tv.'cnty-eighth of October, 1702. And now again the cross is raised before the people ; the lofty anthem of thanksgiving swells up the parched moun- tain, and every knee bows to God and Senora de Loretto. Most of the garrison had been discharged for want of money to pay their wages ; few have remained to protect the Pa- dres. Joyfully now do they all gather about Padre Piccolo, with warm effusions of thanks for his expedition, and engage anew to bear arms, and beseech the mercies of God for the missions of California. This reinforcement of troops, arti- sans, and Padres, and the supplies of provisions and money, and the guarantees for the support of four new missions, and the promised annuity from the Government, encourage Padre Salva Tierka to form higher designs for the enlargement of his operations. To effect them in the best manner, he con- fers with all the Padres on the best measures ; and the con- clusion is, that Padre Ugarte shall go to Senora and procure cattle for breeding, and horses and mules for draught and rid- ing ; that Padre Minutili shall remain at Loretto with Padre Salva Tiebra ; and that Padre Bassaldua shall accompany Padre Piccolo to San Xavier, Avhere he may learn the Indian language, and otherw^ise prepare himself for future labor. In obedience to these determinations. Padre Ugarte sails in the beginning of November; but after being absent a few days, is driven back by contrary winds. In December he sails again, and happily arrives at Guaymas, Pimeria, in February 1703. He reappears at Loretto with a fine quantity of black cattle, sheep, horses, mules, and provisions. In March of this year, Padue Salva Tierra re-commences 26 I I: u "vpvOT^iiwwnn IF 17G s c r. N r. s r \ r ti i: r a c i f i c exploring the country. lie takes with him the Captain and some soldiers, and proceeds to San Xovier, where he is joined by Padres Piccolo nnd Bassaldua. Thence they travel with great difficulty over the thirsty mountains to the Pacific, and search the coast far northward for a harbor, fresh water, and tillable land. None is found which will shelter ships from the prevailing winds. Some land, with a good soil, is dis- covered ; but the absence of water for irrigation renders it useless. By going south, however, they fall upon the little river San Xavier. Here they find a f^w .Indians who, after run- ning away, are persuadeil to show themselves friends. On their return these Padres pass two rancherias, the inhabitants of which they induce to move nearer to Loretto. This jour- ney proves fruitless. They have discovered no suitable place for the establishment of a new mission. In May, they make another, in search of a river emptying into the sea one hundred and twenty miles north of Loretto. Having ar- rived near Concepcion Bay, they fall in with a large ranche- ria of Indians, who seize their bows and arrows and come out to destroy them. The Californian Indians, however, who are acting as guides to the Padres, explain the benevolent object of their visit; and all are received as friends, and treated with the kindest "hospitality. These Indians inform the Padres of a large tract of crags and abysses lying be- tween them and the river that they seek, which it is impos- sible to pass, and they return to Loretto. A dismal misfortune now falls on California. Some Indi- ans arrive at Loretto full of fright and sorrow, from whom the Padres learn that the wretch who formed the last conspiracy, the murderer of the soldier Poblano, and incendiary of the mission of San Xavier, has fomented discontent, assembled the rancherias, and massacred all the adult converts at San Xavier, except the few who have escaped to Loretto. This sad news determines the Padres and the Captain to punish those factious individuals, in such a manner as to prevent such outrages in future. Accordingly the Captain and soldiers fall J r 11 A V i: I, s IN T n k c a l i r o r n r a a 177 on the conspirators at night, kill a few, among whom is one of the most active in the massacre ; but the leader escapes. The Captain, however, declares he shall die. But the jough- ness of the country prevents puisuit. Another means of arresting him is adopted. The Indians are told that they shall never have peace until they surrender this chief of vil- lains, and in a few days he is brought into the mission of San Xavier A court-maitial is now called, and the culprit ar- raigned, tried, and condemned to death ! The Padres inter- fere to save him. But the Captain will not yield. The pri- soner confesses that he intended to destroy all the converts and the Padres ; that he has burnt the chapel and the images ; that he has had a chief hand in the raiirder of Poblano ; that he has been inducing the Indian women to marry the soldiers, in order to have more killed in the sam? manner; and the Captain will not release him from the punishment which he deserves for such terrible acts and intentions. All the Padres, therefore, gather at San Xavier to attend the last hours of the miserable man. They teach him to look at the fearful scenes which will break on him when the spirit's eyes open on eter- nity ; exhort him to kiss the cross of redemption and lift his love to him who bled upon it for sins like his. He is taken to the plain in chains, blinded, made to kneel down and is shot ! This is the first execution for a capital crime in Cali- fornia. Its influence is salutary. The Indians become peace- able, and regular in their duties. The Padres make use of restored peace in exploring the country to find sites for new missions. The river Mulege, at the north, is visited by Padres Piccolo and Bassaldua in the bark San Xavier. They find arable land on its banks, a league in width, which appears suitable for a mission station. They therefore proceed to Senora to obtain riding animals wherewhh to explore the southern shore for a land route to Loretto. Having returned, they descend the coast a few leagues, where a range of dry volcanic heights arrests their progress, and compels them to abandon their design, and re- jfi 178 SCENEA IN THE PACIFIC embark for Lorctlo in the San Xavier. On their way, thry put into Conct'pcion I3ay which lies south ol" the opposinef Mountains ; send the bark to Guaymas for supplies ; goby land along a path partially cleared by the preceding expedi- tion; arrive at a valley which they call San Juan de Londo, where they meet Pauuk Salva Tierka; and thence pro- ceed in great haste to Lorctto. Misfortune calls for their sympathy. An ordinance has been issued by the Viceroy at Mexico, prohibiting any one from engaging in fishing for, or trading in, pearls, on the Californian coast,without a license from the Government, countersigned by the military commandant at Loretto. The object of this regulation is to prevent avari- cious individuals from drawing the Indians away from the missions ; an evil which the Padres have long endeavored to extirpate. But notwithstanding this regulation, two vessels have come upon the coast without license, and are fishing off Loretto, when a tempest breaks them from their moorings and strands them in the bay. The crew of one of them, seventy in number, are saved, and fourteen of the other succeed in gaining the shore. These eighty odd men the Padres clothe and feed a w hole month, — the time required to get their ships off and repair them, — when the one with seventy souls sails for Mexico. This unexpected draught upon the small stores of the missions bears so heavily upon them, that the arrival of Padre Piccolo from Senora, with the bark partially laden with provisions, barely saves them from starvation. Near the close of the year the twelve survivors of the other crew are taken to the continent by Padre Minutili, who has been appointed to the missions at Tibutama. But their presence for so long a time at the garrison has greatly increased the sufTerings of all the stations. It is now 1704, the seventh year of the religious conquest of California. It seems to be the last of the missions. The Padres have labored inces- santly. Many of the natives have been baptized, and are becoming accustomed to labor. The lands are somewhat T n A V E I, S IN THE C A t, I F O U N I A S . 170 productive, and the manufacture of cloth is considerably ad- vanced. Their attendance on the ordinances of relii^ion gratifies the Padres, and civilisation seems to bo taking root among these savages. But as the converts increase, the niun- berof persons to be fed and clad are multiplied. And as the necessities of these grow, the hopes of a |)roper supply be- come more precarious. The vessel in which grains are to be brought from the opposite coast retpiires overhauling beloie she can put to sea. Without her the money for the pay- ment of the garrison cannot be oblaincd from Mexico. Hut as the Padres have no means of repairing her. Pailre Bnssal- dua, for life or death, sails in her towards Mexico, and Padre Piccolo, with equal self-devotion, embarks for Senora in the leaky and shattered hark San Xavier. The mission of San Josef, on the continent, has been an- nexed to the Californian missions, in order that the Padres may use its resources for a uniform supply of provisions and animals. The brave Padre Piccolo is passing now between this station and Loretto, with all possible speed and activity. But the little provisions he is able to collect, ill suffice the wants in California. And as this little is often spoiled in the leaky boat before its arrival, starvation is again expected at Loretto. Meantime Pailre Bassaldua arrives on the coast of Mexico with hiscreaking, leaky vessel; proceeds to Guadalaxara and Mexi- co ; urges the execution of the Royal Orders for the support of the mission ; is unsucces-;ful ; collects enough to repair his vessel ; procures a small supply of necessaries from benevo- lent individuals ; sails in company with Padre Pedro Ugarte, who has been appointed to fill the place of Padre Piccolo, and in the latter part of June rounds into the bay of Loretto, lo add to the number of the desponding and starving ! The Padres send the vessel and the bark to the continent for pro- visions. But the shattered condition of these craft, and the northwest gales, twice oblige them to put back empty. And when at last they succeed in making the voyage, little relief comes of it. There is a want of every necessary of lile I 1 ISO s c i: N f; s I N T ir r \ (• i I" I I, amon^ llic PadrcK and soltlicrs. The \,d\vx cotr.pliiin that their (certificates of services sent to Mexico have not been honored ; and the former see that some ilecidcd step must be taken either for the salvation or abandonment of the missions. Paduk Salva Tierra calls together the Padres and the Cap- tain, and another officer of the garrison, to deliberate, and informs them that they can expect no speedy relief from their friends at Mexico ; that he cannot more clearly depict the melancholy condition of their affairs than their common sufferings do ; that he is summoned to Mexico to confer concerning the execution of the Royal Orders for the relief of the missions ; but that he will not leave California until the mis- sions are either relieved or destroyed. He desires, however, that others will fully deliberate, and freely determine whether they shall all remain ihcro, and suffer for the glory of God, or go to Mexico, and await a more favorable juncture for renew- ing the conquest. He himself is ready to eat the wild fruits, and in other respects fare as the converts do, rather than abandon them. Padre Ugarte opposes leaving the coimtry. Padres Piccolo, Pedro Ugarte and Bassaldua agree with him : and the Captain declares that he is astonished to hear a pro- position of the kind ; that he will solemnly protest against the Padres, if they should abandon the conquest. Neverthe- less, notice is given to the people, that whoever will, may embark in the vessel going to Mexico, and that bills sliall be given them for the arrears of their wages. But insteail of embracing the offer, they all refuse to leave the Padres. The fear of an insurrection among the soldiers on account of the non-payment of wages and want of food being lemoved, the Padres dispatch the vessel and the bark to Guaymas for supplies. While they are waiting for these, Padre Ugarte sets an example of patience and fortitude. He goes into the mountains and woodlands, gathers the wild fruits and digs edible roots, reminds his spiritual children of the death in Canaan, and God's goodness to Jacob— while the soldiers and officers vie with the good man in all his works of love. T R A V E I, 8 nv r U E r .\ L I 1' I) U N I A 8 181 The Padres do not abandon their determination to i'ound the other missions, lor which funds have been promised. With this (h'sigri in view, and also to bring new matters of interest to the'minds of the distressed people, Padres Sai,va TiERKA and Pedro Ugarte visit the district of Ligui, lying on the coast south of Loretto. A single soldier and two Indians accompany them. As they approach the village, many In- dians rush from an ambush and begin to fire their arrows at them with great fury. The soldier, Francisco Xavier Va- lenzuela, draws his scimitar and brandishes it briskly in the sun with one hand, while with the other he fires his mus- ketoon in the air. These movements so frighten the savages that they throw their weapons and themselves on the ground, and allow the whites to approach them. The two Indians interpret for Paduk Sai.va Tikrra. He assures them that he comes only to do them good; that he has brought Padre Ugarte to live with them as a father, who will lead them to a happy futurity. On hearing this, they affectionately embrace Padre Salva Tieura, and bid their wives and children to come from their hiding-places. The Indians are sad that the Padres do not remain longer with them, and can only be comforted by a strong promise that Padre Ugarte will soon return. They baptize forty-eight of the children, and depart for Loretto. In the month of August, of this year, the vessel and bark return from Guaymas with provisions. Close upon this happy event, follows another, which causes much grief to the Padres and the Indians. Padre Salva Tieuua is appointed visitor to the missions of Cinaloa and Senora. The prospect of losing the society and fatherly love of this great and good man, causes deep sorrow among all ranks. He is also called to Mexico by order of the Viceroy, to attend an assembly to be soon convened by command of his Sovereign, in which the propriety and possibility of executing certain royal orders concerning the conquest and settlement of California are to be discussed. Before he departs, he consecrates the new - —"8 193 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC church at Loretto, and appoints to the command of the garri- son, Juan Baptiste Escalante, a distinguished warrior, against the Apaches on the Gila, and Nicolas Marques, as Lieutenant, to fill respectively the places of the worthy Captain Estevan Lorenzo and Ensign Isidro, who, to the sorrow of the Pa- dres, have resigned their posts on account of some bitter feel- ings towards them among the soldiers These matters being settled to the satisfaction of all parties, he appoints Padre Juan Ugarte to the supreme government of the garrison and missions, and on the first of October sails for the continent. He goes to Guadalaxara, confers with the Audi- encia of that department, passes on to Mexico, and finds him- self appointed Provincial of New Spain, and missionary of California. The good Padre, overwhelmed with this unex- pected distinction, urges, with sincerity and zeal, his unfitness for the office, and his desire to labor and die a simple mis- sionary among his Californian Indians. But the Padres assure him that the rules of his order will not permit him to decline j and persuade him, that under so good a man as Provincial, the church will cheerfully further his pious desires for the conversion of the Indians of California. The Padue Juan Maria de Salva Tierua, therefore, in hope of bettering the condition of his converts in that forlorn wilderness, enters upon the duties of Provinical Bishop of New Spain. Padre Salva Tierra in his official character communicates with the Videroy, and lays before him his views of the proper measures of his Government for the furtherance of the mis- sionary enterprise in the territories under his charge. He states, generally, the advances of the Spanish power in those vast realms by means of the Jesuits, and that in order to hold these conquests, the power by which they have been obtained must still be exercised. The honor and benefit of the Crown and of the Catholic Church demand this of his Excellency's Government. He is favorably heard, and all classes of peo- ple second his views. But the delay and selfishness which have ever characterized (he Spanish power in America and I •r rt A V K 1, s IN T II ;; ca i. i v o ii n i a s . ir,;3 It i! elsewhere pross on the track of the good Paihe, niul he is ibrced to Ksive Mexico on a visit to the churches of his Dio- cese, without any d cided assurances that his views will be acted on. The poverty of the Crown, while half the world is (liij;(>ing gold and silver for its coders, is an additional cause of this inaction. We next find Padke Salva Tiicri-.a, in 1705, appealing to the Jesuit College and Ihe Audiencia of Guadalaxara, to suc- cor the missions. Soon after this he lands at El Mission del Nuestra Senoia de Loretto, amid the general joy of the Pa- dres, soldiers and indian><. To the latter, particularly, he has been a father ; and they dance and shout around him in an ccstacy of gladness to see again his grey head and benevo- lent face. The Pauri', finds his brethren in great wretchedness, but full of unwavering determination to carry forward the work which he has so valorously began. Padre Piccolo, who has been ap- pointed visitor of the missions of Sonora, in oider that he may have authority and opportu.'iity to draw provisions more regu- larly for tliose of California, has been forwarding at intervals whatever he could gather from those poor establishments. But this has been sulhcient only to prevent starvation or the al)andonment of the country. However, the missions still exist, and the venerable Padup; Salva Tikkka is happy. Their discomforts have been much increased during his absence by the growing tyranny of Capt. Escalante, who has become im- patient of his subjection to the Padres, ,,nd abusive to the In- dians and soldiers. Ai\ account of this state of things having been forwarded during the Padrk's tarry there, he has brought with him Don Estevan Rodriguez Lorenzo to supersede Esca- lante — an arrangement which results in much satisfaction to the missions. The Provincial remains two months in California ; but he does not excuse himself from his usual arduous labors. His new dignity furnishes no pretext for idleness. lie bends all his energies to the well-being of the natives ; takes measures 27 p: 184 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. for the establishment of two new missions ; the one at Ligui anil the other at the river Mulege. The small number of his associates, however, is an obstacle to the accomplishment of his wishes. There are but three Padres with him. One of these is required at San Xavier, and one at Londo. This dis- tribution will leave but one to take care of the magazines, disbmse the stores, nurse the sick, and perform the spiritual functions at Loretto — a task which no single man can per- form. Accordingly, Jayme Bravo, the lay companion of Fa- de k Salva Tierua, is induced to take upon himself the tem- poral affairs of the garrison and mission, and thus leave the Padres free to pursue their religious labors. This arrange- ment being made, the Provincial departs for Mexico about the last of November, 1704, and the Padres Pedro Ugarte and Juan Manuel de Bassaldua commence the exploration of the new stations. The former goes twelve leagues south, to Li- gui, and the latter forty leagues north, to the river Muiege ; while Padre Juan Ugarte takes care of the missions at Loretto San Xavier and Londo. The Ligui Indians are found to be peaceable, but so ex- tremely indolent that the Padre can get no help from them in the construction of the mission buildings. His ingenuity and patience, however, are equal to his necessities. He feeds the boys of the tribe with sweetmeats, makes them small presents, and by his paternal address, soon attacbes them so strongly to his person, that they follow him wherever he goes. He resorts to many artifices to habituate them to labor ; lays wagers with them on their comparative dexterity in pulling up bushes, removing the earth from the sites of the buildings, and challenges them to dance with him on the clay of which the bricks are to be made. The boys sing and poach the mud with their feet, and so does the Padre. And in this way he clears his ground and erects the buildings of his mission. He also teaches these boys the Spanish language, and they teach their own to him. He explains to them the catechism and prayers, and they do the same to their parents. Thus, with untiring ! f. Indian Sorcerer. — P. 185. ' T R A V K I, ft IV r II i; (• A I, r v o ri v i a ^ 18) : p *i pnllciicc, finnni'ss and labor, dot's Ik- briii;; the mission of San ,Ju;in B.iptistii into I'orm, ami its Indians under his control And not these only ; but j^oing many miles into the woods and tlie breaches of the mountains, he {ruthers in the wan- dcrinu', feeds and clothes them, and teaches them to till the ground ami live like men. At last ho succeeds in hunxmiz- ing the 'greater portion of these rude people. They call him Pache, follow him to the labor of the field, and gather about the altar in his humble church to worship. All arc industri- ous, well-fed, well-clad, and happy. As the Pache, however, is felicitating himself on these results of his labors, an accident occurs which well nigh ruins all. He is called to baptize a sick woman, with whom he finds an old sorcerer employed according to their ancient cus- toms. The Padre bids him depart, administers extreme unc- tion to the woman, remains with her till death, buries her according to the forms of the church, and after reprimanding severely the converts who have lent thcij sanction to the jug- gler, dismisses them with much indignation. This severity of the Padre rouses the sullen fierceness of the Indians to such extent that, instigated by the disgraced sorcerer, they form the design of murdering him. They use the utmost secrecy, and make death the penalty of divulging their purpose. The Padre always has a boy sleeping in his apartment ; and when at length the night of the massacre comes, this boy desires that he may be allowed to spend it with his friends, the Indi- ans- The Padre objects ! The boy urges ! The Padre in- quires the reason ; and the boy, after much hesitation, tells him, " Because, father, this night they are going to kill you !'* On hearing this, he sends for some of the chief ones, and with a resolute and dauntless air tells them, " I know you have formed the design to kill me this night. But remember ! With this musket I will, when you come, slaughter you all." Having said this, he quickly leaves them full of consterna- tion at what they have heard. Oppressed with fear, they retire to their associates in the 186 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC design ; consult much, and at last conclude to seek safety from the Padre's musket in flight. In the morning their lodges are deserted ; not an Indian is in sight of the Mission San Juan Baptista Ligui. On the following day the Padre goes out to seek his lost flock. They are found hidden away among the cliffs, and flee at his approach. After con- siderable parleying, however, they are convinced that the Padre seeks their good alone, and return to the mission tho- roughly persuaded that he loves them, but can never be made to fear them. This excellent man continues at his mission, enduring every privation, till 1709, when the severe fatigues of years weigh him down and compel him to seek health in Mexico. Thither he goes in the character of negotiator and procurator of the missions. No sooner, however, does he recover his health in a tolerable degree, than he returns and resumes his labors. But illness again compels him to leave this inhospitable shore for the mission at the River Yaqui, on the opposite coast, where he makes himself useful as an agent and pur- veyor-general for California. But let us follow the Padre Juan Manuel Bassaldua to the River Mulege. He starts in 1705, and with great difficulty surmounts the crags as far north as Concepcion Bay. Here his progress is arrested by hills to all appearances in- surmountable. But "trial before despair" is the Padre's motto. He fills ravines with rocks, and cuts away the woods; and after incredible labor, passes his animals over to Mulege. There is a valley near the mouth of this little stream ten leagues in length, suitable for tillage. In this, two miles from the Gulf, he locates his mission, and consecrates it to Santa Rosalia ; builds his dwelling and church of adobies ; remains four years ; collects the Indians from all the neighboring set- tlements ; instructs them in religion and the useful arts ; and so endears himself to them, that when his health fails, and he is transferred to Guaymas, the poor savages find it difficult to ■s 1^ ,.2? ■ i h\ 1 if T R A V F, r, S IN THE C A t, I F O R N I A 8 , 187 discover in his siucossor, the excellent Padre Piccolo, his criiial in kindness and j)(;tiv(' Ijenevolence. Padre Piccolo exerts in tliis new field all his well-tried en- ert^ies. Besides his labors as a spiritual teacher, he travels inlo the interior several times in search of proper sites for new settleini nis, and discovers those places which are aftei- wanls occupied by the missions of Giiadaloupe, T^a I'urissima Coiic<'pcion, and San l<:^nacio. In the year 1718 lie surren- ders his chari^i! to Padre Sebastian de Sistiaj^a. This Padic dijj;s trenches to convey the waters of the river over the fields, and in other ways improves the; facilities for training; those active and intellif^ent children of the desert to the habit? of a l)ettcr life. On th" sixlh of November, ITOH, Padre Piccolo, three sol- di( r,-', and some Mulcf^e Indians, with two asses bearinj.r their provisions, journey wislwanl towards the country of the Nr)rth Cochirnes, which is eaUcd Cada Kaaman, or Sedf^e Prook. It lies on the skirls of the mountains, thirty-five leagues, l)y the vales, from Santa Rosalia. On the third day he is met by a whole settlement of Indians, in a valley which, on a former visit, he has named Santa Aguida. These poor peo- ple express great joy at seeing the Padre at',ain, and follow him to the neighboring- rancherias, called Santa Lucia and Santa Nympha. In these places also he is greeted most kindly, and desired to remain. On the ninetc enth of Novem- ber he arrives at the head springs of the brook which waters the vale. Here he finds three considerable neighborhoods of Ravages, who welcome his coming with feastings, dances, and songs, in which th(»se from Santa Lucia and Santa Nympha join with exceeding delight. He remains at this place until December, condorting and teaching them. A large arbor is huilt by the willing Indians, in which mass is celebratcu. The neighboring villagers forsake their homes to attend upon the Padre's instructions. Fifty mothers eageily offer their child- ren in baptism. And now he departs, followed by a large crowd of VM'ople, wlio mourn that he leaves them ; and pre- 28 M ■A 18S SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. codod by others who shout their gladness among the parched hills, that he journeys towards their villages. They clear the path before him of stones and other obstacles ; present him with strings of wild fruit to eat; and bring him water from the stxeaui to drink. While these new missions are in progress, the old ones, at Loretto, San Xavier, and Lonilo, are slowly advancing in com- fort and uselulness. Nor are the Padres in charge of them idle in making explorations for other establishments. In 1706 Jay me Bravo, in company with the Captain, seven soldiers, and some Indians, goes to San Juan Baptista Ligui, and having felicitated Padre Pedro Ugarte upon the happy beginning of his mission, passes along the shore towards the south. He has travelled a day and a half, when an Indian brings word that four of his soldiers are dying ! Jaymc Bravo an} their powrrful instincts, find menns ol" (jiu'inhiiii;- llu'i!' thirst ; hut all thi'si- contrivances arc vain. They kiiulle a (ire to keip Ihemselves warm, and, weary and laniisirm that lie has loiiiid waii r ! With solemn {fralitude they dig inio the ooziiii,^ so:l; tluy olit.iin a supply (or (hemsclves and their animals ; and havini;' filli'd scvcial vessels to serve them on their ri'lurn, oJll r a service of tiianksgiving to the Virgin, and connneiice their journey to liorelto. Wiiilc the I'adics are thus tinploycd in establishinfr mis- sions and explorin;; Caliioinia, P.ndim; Sai.va Tii;iuia is oar- nestly petitioning the Pope to discharge him from the office of Provincial Bishop of New Spain, lie desires to spend his declining years among the Indians of (.^difornia. In 1706 his discharge lomes ; and with inexpressible i)lcasure does the good old man collect supplies of clothing, provisions and ammunition, lor (he mission. He is joined by two other Padres, Julian d board and swim ashore ; the Padre, Captain and soldiers fol- low hastily in their boats ; but do not arrive in time to prevent the Loretto tribe from such warlike demonstrations as put the Guaycuros to ilight. They flee, leaving their wivd and children to follow after at a slower pace. The Lorett( Indians do not regard the orders of Padre Salva Tierra but led by savage impulse, fall upon the hapless women anc children. These attempt to defend themselves with stonea But they must have perished had not the Captain and the nimblest of the soldiers arrived at the commencement of the infamous encounter. The unoffending creatures are saved ; and wailing horribly, follow their cowardly fathers and hus- bands. This unfortunate event tries exceedingly the good Padrb Salva Tierra. He sorrows that his benevolent designs should terminate in an outrage upon those whom he comes to cherish. But it is apparent that this rashness of the Loretto Indians renders useless any attempts at friendly connections with the Guaycuros. He therefore distributes to the prisoners from the pearliishers' vessels, some agreeable presents, explains to them, that his object in visiting their countrymen was to re- store themselves to their homes, and enter into friendly rela- tions with the Guaycuros nation, and dismisses them with such other marks of his good intentions as will open a proba- bility of successful negotiation with their countrymen on another occasion. He returns to Loretto with a heavy heart : and sends the brigantine to Matanchel for goods and pro- visions. A furious storm strands it ; the vessel and cargo are a total loss; and nine persons are drowned. Thus death again thins the ranks of the Californian missions ; want and nakedness stalk among them ; and the old San Xavier, after eighteen years' service, is the only sea craft connecting them with the continent and with life. Amidst all these difficulties, however, the untiring Padres found the mission of San Igna- cAr li) the Cada Kaaman, or the vale of the Sedge Brook. 198 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. It is now eighteen years since Padre Salva Tierra landed in California and erected the cross at Loretto. His labors have been arduous and unremitted. His trials by sliipwreck and tempests, by progresses over mountains and deserts, by hunger and thirst, by arrows and Lidian knives, by endu- rances of all kinds, have whitened his hair, withered his bones and muscles, made his steps unstable and his head tremble at the throbs of his lieart. He feels that the holy water must soon fall on his coffin lid, and California be de- prived of his services. It is the year 1717. He is at Loretto, with little to eat, and badly clad, and scarcely able to walk or stand. But he teaches the children — exhorts the adults to the service of God, and superintends every particular move- ment of the garrison and the mission. In March, Padre Nicholas Tamaral, appointed to the proposed mission of La Purissiraci; arrives at Loretto, bringing letters from the reign- ing Viceroy of Mexico, in which among other matters it is stated that the King has forwarded important instruciiona rela- tive to advancing most efficiently the spiritual conquest of California, together with a summons that Padre Salva Tierra shall immediately repair to Mexico to aid in devising the best means of effecting that object. Disease, pain, want and danger present no obstacles to this aged Patriarch, when the interest of his missions calls upon him for action. He im- mediately determines to go to Mexico. Accordingly the government of California is comr litted to the wisdom of Padre Ugarte, and on the 31st of the same month of March, the good Padre and Jayme Bravo sail for Matanchel. Nine days' passage brings them to the desired port ; they take mules for Tepic ; the good Pac.re suffers greatly at every misstep of his animal; they arrive at Tepic; the Pa dre is in extreme torture ; but tortures cannot detei him froii his holy labors ; he is too weak and too much racked witi pain to mount a horse or mule, and is therefore borne in litter on the shoulders of Indians, to Guadalaxara. Here his illness increases so that he can proceed no farther. He is I \ ij 1 TRAVELS IN THE C A L I K R X I A S 199 lodged in the college of Jesuits. The Padres are in attend- ance upon hira. Two months of agony wear toward a close ; and death begins to chill liis limbs, glaze his eyes, and chain his utterance : and when he can no longer stir, he calls to him his faithful companion, Jayme Bravo, and in the most earnest manner, giving him instruction and powers for acting in his stead at Mexico, commends him and his beloved missions to the guardianship of Heaven. And now a hero dies ! Not one who has swung the brand of war over the villages and cities of nations; not one who has crushed the hearts of men, yoked them in bondage, and severed every tendril of mercy and justice from the governing powers ; not sueh a hero as men will worship; but a g eat and good man, offering life and every capacity of happiness within him to the well-being of savages in a barren waste of mountains ; a hero in the heavenly armor of righteousness, endur- ing fatigue, hunger, thirst, and constant danger among the flinty, unwatered wastes o* unthinking and uninstructed hu- man nature; a missionary of a Californian wilderness! All the people of the city and neighboring villages crowd to tfae college, and kneel through the streets and alleys, on the balconies and roofs of the houses, and pray for the repose of the departed soul of Padre Salva T'ekra. There is no noise in Guadalaxara, nor business ; it is a city of prayer : they come one after another and kneel and pray, and silently retire ; thirty thousanus of people beseech Heaven with one earnest desire — that he whom they have loved, he who has labored so ardently in propagating the faith, may find a man- sion of repose and reward in the upper world ! Some €»li- fornian Indians, whom he has brought with him, exhibit extraordinary grief ; the whole city assists at the interment ; they bury him in the chapel he has erected many years ago to the Virgin of Loretto. And thus end the mortal part and mortal deeds of Padre Salva Tierua. But his remembrance is written in the imperishable record of those great minds J 200 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC who have conquered nations with the sabre of truth, and led them to a more intelligent and happy condition. Jay me Bravo, after the burial of Padre Salva Tierra, pro- ceeds to Mexico, lays the conditicm of the Californian mis- sions before the Vice-Royal Council, obtains an appropriation of four thousand dollars for the building and equipment of a vessel for the mission service, three thousand and twenty-two dollars for discharging the debts due at the death of Padre Salva Tierra, and eighteen thousand two hundred and seventy-five dollars for the pay of the soldiers and sailois. While these things are transpiring in Mexico, a terrible hiu:- ricane, accompanied by violent rains, sweeps over California. Padre Ugarte's house, and the church at Loretto, are levelled to the ground ; and the Padre himself stands by the side of a rock exposed ta the tempest for twenty-four hours. At San Xavier, the channels used for irrigating the lands ?re filled with stones, and the water thrown in torrents o> ; th Ids. Both soil and sprouting crops are carried av. aV. ihe same misfortune occurs at Mulege. The blasts of the ter;>' pests are so terrific at the garrison, that a Spanish boy named Matheo, is taken up in erne of their gyrations and never seen more ! Tornadoes of this kind are frequent in California But the Padres' ave st en none equal to tins for violence ard continuance. What little soil has been found in the country has been dislodged and swept into the sea ; the country is laid waste ; its rocks are bare ; its plains and vales are cov- ered with heaps of stones. ^ J.' CHAPTER XII. Padre Bravo in Mexico— Return to California — First ship built in North- west America — Expedition to the Guaycuros — Nuestra Sennora del Pilar de la Paz — Founding Nuestra Sennora de Gaudalupe — Buining of Idols— A Famine— Locusts — A Pestilence — The Dying— Elxplo- rations by Land and Sea — Indian Country — Dreadful Sufferings — Tempests— Water-Spouts — Retr n of the Explorers. Thus stands the condition of the Californian missions in 17 1 1. More than five hundred thousand dollars of private benefac- tions have been expended upon thtm ; and the twenty-five thousand more lately granted by the government, have been invested, and chiefly lost in disasters by sea and land. Now the crops are destroyed, and the utter annihilation of these es- tablishments is anticipated in the course of the year. But Jay me Bravo is in Mexico. He collects a few provi- sions and goods, and accompanied by Padre Sebastian de Sistiaga in a Peruvian vessel presented to the missions by the Viceroy, arrives at Loretto in July, 1718, and gives new energy to the missions. The founding of the San Miguel by Padre Tamaral, in 29° and odd minutes N. among the moun- tains near the Gulf, is one of the features of returning hope. Soon after this Padre's arrival at his station, two neigiiboring settlemrr ^> of Indians are bapt ^d. After this he, with innu- merable hardships, crosses the mountains to the settlement of the Cadigomo tribe. Here he meets with the Inoians from the settlements of La Purissima Concepcion, and accompanies them home. He finds the soil of their fields washed away by the late tempest, but determines to establish the mission La Purissima among them. And after years of toil, the zealous man builds a parsonage and church, brings several maize telds under cultivation, opens a mule track over the rnoun- '1 ■ I ; 'I ! 202 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC tains to the mission of Santa Rosalia, and extends his jurisdic* tion over forty settlements, situated witliin a circuit of ninety miles around him. Many years ago the Philippine Islands were discovered and settled by Spain. Soon a considerable trac'e sprung up be- tween them and the Spanish possessions in Mexico. Indeed the products of the Pliilippine Islands destined for old Spain, are landed at Accapulco, carried across the country on mules, and reshipped for Old Spain at the port of Vera Cruz. The j)assage from these islands to the Mexican coast is made, for the greater part, through the Chinese seas, to latitude 30^ N. II'3re voyagers fall in with the variable winds, which take them to the American coast, between latitudes 30° and 40° N. At this point, during the spring, summer and autumn, they meet vhe northwesterly winds, which drive them down the coast { J apulco. In these early times navigation is imperfectly unot jtood. That ocean too is chiefly unknown. Naviga- tors are not familiar with its currents, and consequently every voyage across its trackless waters is hazardous and prolonged. And when they reach the American coast, the crews are sick with the scurvy ; and they should land for a supply of fresh pro- visions. But while no harbor is known, from Cape San Lucas to the remote north, at which wood, water and other necessary relief can be had, the ships are obliged to keep down the coast to Mazatlan, Accapulco, or some other port, before they make vheir first landing, after leaving the East Indies ; a distance of more than eleven thousand miles. And when they arrive at these ports, it frequently happens that nearly all the crew are irrecoverably diseased, or dead. In ord'^ *o avoid this dread- ful evil, the Spanish crown has often orderetl the missionaries to explore the coasts for a bay surrounded by a country suita- ble for the settlement of a colony. This they have often at- tempted, but the want of proper animals in their progresses, and the miserable character of the craft used in their voyages, have thus far prevented the attainment of their wishes. But Padre Ugarte now determines to survey both the Pacific and T 11 A V i; I. s I \ r H i; <; a i, i f o u n i a s 203 Gulf coasts of the peninsula. His means are so small, how- ever, in every respect, that his brethren do not perceive how he will doit, lie wants provisions, men and a ship. And such is the condition of public feeling in Mexico, and such the difficulty of journeying there, that he cannot hope for aid from his friends in that quarter. But who knows the wealth of exhaustlcss energy ! Padre Ugarte will build a ship in Cali- fornia ! ! He has, however, neither plank, timber, sails, nor rigging, tar, nor any other necessary materials for such a work ; nor has he either a builder or shipwright, sawyer, or other naval artificers, and if he had, there is no food for their sup- port J and worse than all, he has no money wherewith to sup- ply any of these deficiencies. But the Padre says the King's orders must be obeyed ; that this cannot be done without the ship ; and therefore the ship must be built irrespective of means. The suiTerings of his fellow beings also demand it. The people of the garrison and some of the Padres smile at Padre Ugarte's resolution against what seems to them an im- possibility. But they do not estimate the creative powers of a mind bent on the accomplishment of its desires. He obtains a builder from Senora, and makes preparations for bringing timber from the opposite coast, as he has done for the erection of his churches. But heaing of a grove of large trees two hundred miles north of Ljretto, he changes his determination, and in September, 1719, goes with h'S builders, two soldiers and some Indians to Mulege. Here he remains a day with Padre Sistiaga, and then strikes out for that line of mountains which overhangs the mission of Gaudalupe. They climb the heights and scour the barren plains ; endure inexpressible difficulties and toils; and at last discover a considerable number of Gua- rivos trees of suitable size ; standing, however, in such bottoms and sloughs, that the builder declares it impossible to get them to the sea. The Padre, disregarding this suggestion, goes to Loretto ; makes preparations for a vigorous effort to build a ihip of Californian timber ; returns to the north ; levels rocks, cuts away brush ; and making a road ninety miles in length 30 ■ ; ; 1 V H. 't M 2J4 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC, from Mulege to the timber, fells it, saws it into planks, trans* ports them to Mulege, and in four months builds a vessel anu launches with his own hands, in September, 1720, the first ship ever built on the northwest coast of North America ! ! In this herculean labor the Padre has employed his entire means. The little valuables sent him by his friends in Mexi- co and elsewhere, have not been spared. Even his wardrobe has been freely distributed among the laborers. He himself has swung the axe, has used the whip-saw, the chisel and the hammer ; he has risen with the dawn, and invoking the smiles of Heaven and the aid of ministering spirits in his toil of soul and body, kindly called his men to their tasks. They famish, and so does he. And when the fatigues of each day are over, the jutting rocks are their resting-place ; a few hides their bed. Yet the ship is built. High on her stern, firmly affixed to her bulwarks, is raised the symbol of their faith. Her name, how appropriate, is, the "Triumph of the Cross." During the progress of the work, Jayme Bravo, as purveyor of the missions, goes to the coast of Cinaloa to procure goods and provisions. On his arrival there he is surprised to find letters from the Provincial of Mexico, ordering him to Gua- dalaxara for ordination. He accordingly ships his supplies and travels with all speed to that city ; is admitted to holy orders ; and by direction of his superior, proceeds to Mexico to procure aid for the missions. His energetic labors are crowned with succes,',. On the fifteenth of March, 1720, the council orders a bark built, to sail between Accapulco and Peru, to be delivered to Padre Jayme Bravo, together with the arms and stores which he desires. The means of founding a new mission at La Paz, are also furnished by the Marquis de Villa Puente ; and Padre Bravo is designated as its priest and founder. With a new ship, therefore, well laden with supplies, and with new hopes for all the missions, and especially well furnished for his new work at La Paz, the Padre Jayme Bravo sails from Accapul- co in July, 1720, and in August of the same year enters the TRAVELS IN THE l. A I. 1 K R N I A S 205 harbor of Loretto, amidst a general burst of joy and religious thanksgiving of the starving people on shore. Comfort and joy reign again throughout the missions. The Padres and the garrison are clothed again ; and the means being furnish- ed, their thoughts are again turned to the establishment of other missions. Padre Jay me Bravo leads the new under* taking. Two expeditions are therefore projected; one by land and another by water. The former is designed to open a land communication between Loretto and the site of the in- tended mission ; the other fc» the conveyance of the men and provisions, and other necessaries of the enterprise. The forces intended for the expedition over land rendezvous at San Juan Baptista Ligui, under command of Padre Clemente Guillen. Padre Ugarte leads the other. He embarks on board the " Triumph of the Cross" with Padre Bravo, the soldiers and Indians, and a good stock of stores and utensils. They arrive in safety at the bay of La Paz. This is in the country of the Guaycuros, or Pericues, who have been grievously wronged by Admiral Otondo and the Spanish pearl fishermen. They are consequently inimical to the Spaniards, and will perhaps make deadly war upon them as they land. But it soon appears that those prisoners from the fishing barks, whom Padre Salva Tierua has returned to their homes, have given to their countrymen such an ac- count of the Padre's kind treatment as disposes them to friendship. Some of them appear in arms; but as soon as they see the costume of the Padres, their arms are laid aside. Seated on the ground, they allow the Padres to ap- proach, and accept with high demonstrations of pleasure, various presents. The object of the expedition is made known. They are assured by the Padres that it is for theii benefit They have come to found a mission among them : to make peace between them and the Indians of the neigh- boring islands: to teach them agriculture and the useful arts, and to instruct them in the principles of the Christian religion. Thereupon the Indians receive them as friends, and i " p: 1 1 It! f|l 206 S (• F. N E S IN THE PACIFIC. give thcin permission to erect the cross and consecrate their shores to God. Huts are now erected for all the people; the stores and beasts are brought ashore ; a piece of ground is cleared for a church and a village ; and to the great sur- prise and delight of the Indians, a mission is founded among them. The expedition by land, under Padre Guillen, has not yet arrived; and much disquietude is awhile felt for its fate. But it is soon changed to (gladness. Three hundred miles have been travelled, over mountains, through woods and mo- rasses ; and as the sun is falling on the brown heights in the west, a salute of musketry is heard on the northern shore of the bay ; it is returned by the ship ; and the boats are imme- diately sent over for Padre Guillen and his company. They are worn, naked, hungry, and thirsty ; and with joy only known to themselves, they bathe in the surf, drink the water from the spring, and eat the food of their brethren in the new mission at La Paz. Padre Ugarte labors three months at La Paz, in establishing Padre Bravo in his mission. And now having confirmed the league of peace with the Indians by numerous acts of benevolence and Christian love, he takes a most affectionate leave of Padre Bravo and the soldiers who remain with him, and embarks for Loretto. Padre Guillen is so much worn with his land expedition, that he also returns by sea. The Ligui Indians who accompanied him, follow bac k the path by which they came. Padre Bravo, as all others ir. charge of these missions have done before, learns the Indian language ; builds a parsonage, church and huts ; and with the greatest assiduity, applies himself to gain the affection of the natives, civilize and instruct them, and relieve them from want. As a reward of his labor, more than six hundred children and adults receive baptism : and more than eight hundred adults are assembled in three well regidated settle* ments, called Nuestra Sennora del Pilar de La Paz, Todos Santos, and Angel de la Guarda. He also, as he pursues his holy labors, discovers some tracts of arable land sixtj !i T II A V E IN THE C A I. I r O R N : A S 207 miles distant, which he nnminlly phuits witii in;iizr. All th« Padro Bravo accomplishes single handed in seven years. In the year 1720, while the Padres are yet at La Paz, a mission is founded by Padre Everard Ilellen, among mountains in latitude 27° N., thirty lea;onverts of all ages are the fruit of Padre Hellen's devout labors. Some, living at a distance, are attached to the more contiguous mis- sions of Santa Rosalia and San Ignacio. But twenty ranche- rias remain to Padre Hellen. These he maintains in the most peaceful and gentle intercourse with each other and with himself. They are divided into villages of four rancherias. Ijl'i T R A V K L S IN THE C A I, I F O R N I A 8 , 209 with each a chapel. And in these humble sanctuaries, as often as the Padre visits thorn, the red men gather and pay t4ieir devotions to the true God ! The progress made in spir- itual improvement is equal to his most ardent desires. But the nature of the country forbids equal advancement in the arts of civilized life. They cannot raise the small grains ; and their only resource is the cultivation of maize and the raising of cattle. These are procured by the Padre ; anr. with the native fruits afford them a comfortable subsistence. The justice and kindness of the Padre win him the love and esteem of all the Indians; and he desires to live and die among them. But his health again failing, and his superior regarding him with more tenderness than he docs himself, transfers him to an easier office in Mexico. And thus, having spent sixteen years in the most arduous and faithful discharge of his duties as a missionary in California, he, with grief and tears, in 1735, takes leave of the Indians of Santa Guadalupe. While these labors are being prosecuted, a very strong de- sire is felt by the Padres to extend the commercial and civil advantages of California by the establishment of colonies, gar- risons, and good harbors, for the accommodation of the Philip- pine and Chinese ships. In order to accomplish this, it is desirable to do three uiings ; first, to take a minute survey by water, of the Pacific coast, from Cape San Lucas northward, in search of such harbors ; second, to pursue the same search by a land expedition, skirting the coast between the same points ; and third, to survey the Californian Gulf, in order to ascertain whether the peninsula be really such, or an island, cut off from the main land by a channel at the north end Great difficulties oppose the prosecution of all these enter- prises by the feeble powers of the Padre. But after much de- liberation, it is resolved to undertake the two last. The sur- vey of the Gulf being deemed the most difficult and import- ant, Padre Ugarte determines to take charge of it himself, and while he is making the necessary preparation, he desires Padre Guillen to attempt the land tour, on the Pacific Coast. IS Iv channel full of rocks and sand spits; and notwith- standing tiieir precautions, the bilander grounds on a shoal and requires all the efforts of her crew for some hours to get her off. This period of anxiety over, another begins ; for now the canoe and pinnace ha v'e disappeared. The bilander therefore goes on, though dangers beset her on every side, and after three days of tacking and soundino", reaches a tortuous chan- nel leading into a large bay. In this lie the pinnace and canoe near the island they are seeking. Thither they direct their course without more difliculties or delays. As they ap- proach, the natives appear on the shore, armed and shouting with the intension of intimidating the strangers. B'l" *heir countrymen fwimming ash .e in advance, inform them that PAUKt, Salva TiFtttu's brother is come in tiie ship to see them. Hearirig this, they lay down their arms and express the liveliest sentiments of joy. The bilander having dropped her anchor, the Padre is earnestly solicited to go on shore But being attacked with the most excruciating pains through- TRAVELS IN T il A L 1 F R N I A S . 213 out his person, from the chest downward, he reUictantly fore- goes the pleasure of complying with their invitation. These pains have followed him occasionally since the severe expo- sure which he endured in the harbor of Seris. The Indians, seeing that illness prevents lus leaving the ship, construct a number of small light floats, and send aboard a d< .} jtation of forty or fifty persons, requesting that he will occupy, during his indisposition, a house which they have erected in him on the beach. The good Padre cannot refuse this prolfer of sympathy, and though every motion is agony, gives direc- tions to be placed in the boat and rowed ashore. On landing, he is treated with great consideration. The islanders have formed themselves in double file from the waterside to the house ; the men on one side and the women on the other. Between these lines he is borne to the dwelling. It is a small wigwam constructed of green boughs, fronting plea- santly on the open bay. Here the suffering Padre being seated, the people who have lined his pathway, come in one by one, first the men, then the women, and passing along, bow their he^uj that he may lay his hand upon them, and bless them. The Padre conceals bis bodily agonies with great heroism, and receives them with much pleasantness and regard. This ceremony over, the islanders gather about for instruc- tion. He cannot remain sufficient time to do this ; and re- commending tliem to go to the Mission del Populo, and bring thither an Indian teacher, who will answer their inquiries and teach them the precepts of the gospel, he re-embarks and continues his survey. He soon afterward disrovers a small open bay, where his little fleet comes to anchor. His sup- plies are now nearly exhausted. It therefore becomes him to hasten his explorations. Accordingly he sends the pinnace to survey the coasi by sea, and three men to examine it by land. The latter return on the second day. They have taken an outline of the neighboring land, and have seen a pool of stagnant water, and some mule tracks in the path Iltl{ liii i!M S V K N i: « IN T II K P A <; I K I C u !»,:, !■>. H , |i| Icatling from it. The Padrt; sees much in those tracks, and despati h(s two seamen with orders to follow them. These arrive on the thinl day at the Mission of Concepcion la Ca- borca. lien; they find Padre Lui,- Gallardi, to whom they deliver Padre Ugarte's letters, addressed to himself and the Paihe Missionary of San Ignacio. These being foumlto con- tain urgent petitions for the promiseil ^ujiplies, the Padre (jallat'di immediately sets out with such small (juantities as he can collect at so short notice. Padre Ugarte is still sufl'ering the most excruciating tor- tuies. The only position which he can endure, is on his knees. He has been twelve days in these dreadful agonies, unable even to go on shore. But now hearing of the arrival of Padre Gallardi, ami the expected visit of the Padre Mis- sionary from Sr.n Ignacio, he determines, if possible, to receive them ashoi e. It is no easy thing for him to leave the ship. But at last it is accomplished ; and he travels a league and a half to mr et his visiters. The meagre supplies which they bring him are a source of anxiety to the host and his guests. The pinnace, too, is still absent. She was sent to survey the coast at tin; same time that the men were despatchejl by lan»l. The shores of the Gvdf have been searched for a great distance north and south, but no trace of her being fouml, she is nearly given up for lost. The bilander, too, is in cont'nual danger from the agitation of the sea. She has already pajted one of her cables ; and now a heavy sea carries away her bowsprit, on which is mounted the " Holy Cross !" This causes great consternation. Fortunately a returning w'ave throws most of her bowsprit back ; but the cross is still at the mercy of the waves ! and the fears of the crew increase. Heaven frowns on their labors, and has removetl from them the symbol of its mercy. The next day, however, an Indiiiu recovers the sacred emblem, and it is again phuiled in triumph on the prow. Attention is now turned to obtaining wood and water. The former is easily procured in tlie gleu near liio T 11 A V r. I, S IN T II i; C A I, I V O II N I A S 2ir> shore; buv the latter they briii^ fioiii ;i spring several miles distant. While thus engaged, they rejoice to .<>ee thret of the pinnace's crew approaching them. Tiicy relate that after weathering a very rough S'ji, and being several times in im- minent danger, they east anchor a( sunset in a large sliaUow bay, with two fathoms water, and went to rest. On tlie fol- lowing morning Ihey were in a singular predicament for sea- men, out of sight — not of la' d — but of water!! The sea had retired. What should be (lone ? No water, either fresh or salt, was in sight, and the supply of provisions was very scanty. Some oflhcmiesolvedtherefore, to leave the pinnace in iiearch of water and food. Fhiding none, however, and seeing nothing but famine and deaih liefoie thern, ihey con- cluded to travel down the i.uas( to Va(|ui. The pinnace, how- ever, was visited by another Hood tide, which her exliausUtl crew improved to get lu'r afloat. Her keel had been much damaged. This they repaired, and iiuinediately laid their course for the bilander. F•• stern j that the Indians offered then timber to build another j but as this was impossible, they drew the nails from, the oars, fasten- ed the two parts together, and using their sounding lir.3 and painter for oakum, and substituting clay for pitch, caulked the seam. All night they were thus employed, the Indians kindly rendering them whatever assistance was in their power j and the next day keeping near the shore with their crazy leaky boat, they reached the bilander as related. In a short time the pinnace arrives, having cruised forty leagues and discovered no harbor. The bilander now a^ ' stands northward, and in a few days finds herself sailing in waters whose variable hue indicates her approach to the outlet of some great river. Padre Ugarte keeps the pinnace sounding ahead, and after standing across, and making some northing, comes to anchor on the Peninsula side, near the mouth of the Colorado of the west. It is disgorging a great volume of angry waters, laden with grass, weeds, trunks of trees, burned logs, timbers of wigwams, &c. There has evidently been ruthlei» work inland. Terrible storms, accompanied with thunder and lightning, have visited the voyagers during the night, and spread over the country, whence the river issues. The men are anxious, as soon as the flood subsides, to go up and sur- TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIAS, 217 tty tLis stream. But Padre Ugarte thinks the floods beneath, and *hc angry clouds above, will render the undertaking haz- ardous. Beside, himself and several of his crew are very ill. * They therefore cross the western mouth of the Colorado, and anchor in four fathom water, opposite the island which divides the outlet. From this point they have a distant view of the union of the Pcniiisu^a with the main land. The Padre is de- sirous of explorino* this region more particularly ; but ill health and the great clangor to which his vessel is exposed from the impetuosity ind height of the tides, make him hesi- tate. Tie pilot is satisfied from the present height of the ti\een the contemplated mission and La Paz, and also of invit re was such a being." After examining the missions of the north, Padre Echeveria prepares to visit those of the south, and establish the two mis- sions which have been endowed at Pal mas bay and Cape San Lucas. But death and ill-health among the Padres render it impossible to carry both these plans into execution. Padre Segismund Taraval has been appointed to the charge of the t -1| il 234 H C K N E S IN T U K I' A C I F I C. former, called Santa Rosa, in honor of the foundress ; but does not arrive. And it is determined, therefore, to commence that at San Lucas, called San Jose del Cabo. This is a post which requires great integrity, zeal and address. Padre Tamaral, founder of the mission La Purissima, is therefore chosen to fill it. This Padre and the Visitor General embark on the tenth of March, and visiting on their way at the mis- sions of La Paz and San Jago de los Coras, proceed to San Lucas, and finding au agreeable spot a short distance from the Cape, erect a chapel and houses ; and though only about twenty families present themselves, the Padre founder enters upon his labors. As soon, however, as the Padre Visitor with his two soldiers leave the spot, they come in great numbers to Padre Tamaral, r.ssigning as a reason for not appearing sooner, that they feared the Padres had come with the soldiers, to punish their assaults on the missions of San Jago and La Paz. Padre Tamaral makes a journey in search of the rancherins and the people whom he is to teach, and also of a better site for his mission. The present one is infested with musquitoes andoti insects ; the dampness and extreme heat also render it intolerable. On becoming acquainted with the country, he determines to remove the mission to a spot about five leagues from the sea ; and proceeds at once to erect a chapel and houses on the new site. He labors in- cessantly to induce the natives who have hitherto led wander- ing lives, to settle in fixed habitations ; and so successful is he, that in one year he has instructed and baptized one thousand and thirty-six souls ; and so far as their indolent roving cha- racter will permit, has bettered their temporal welfare. In the year 1730, Padre Tamaral undertakes to survey the islands which lie near the Pacific coast. Accompanied by six Indians, he sets out on the festival of San Xavier, and after travelling six days by land, reaches one of the capes or head- lands of a large bay, which he calls San Xavier. From this point they see two islands, lying some seven or eight leagues from the coast, which they determine to visit. Accordingly I -J I R A V i; I. S IN 1 li K t, A I. I !■ U r. I A S . iJ35 having const ructctl a raft of timber, they pass over to the nearest one, and find it a small desert, not more than half a mile in length, and less in width. It is a bank of dry sand, with neither a drop of water, nor a leaf of verdure upon it. It is called by the Indians Asegua, on account of the iinuKrise Hocks of birds which frequent it. Among these is a small jtt black bird, something larger than a sparrow, which burrows in the sand, and makes its nest some four feet below the sur- face, retiring to it at night only, and living all day in the sea. There is another bird quite unlike any known to the Padre. It is about the size of a goose, with black wings, a snowy breast, and light-colored feet, and a beak like the carnivora. This also makes its nest three or four feet below the surface It is a lover of storm and tempest, and never retires to its nest except when the sea is calm. These birds are hunted by the Indians for food. About four or five leagues distant from this island, lies another, called by the Indians Amalgua, or fog island. It is several leagues in circumference, and of a tri- angular form. In its midst rises a conical mountain of con- siderable height. It has several fresh-water springs ; but no anchorage protected from the sea. Deer and rabbits live upon it. Among the latter is a small black species with fur finer than that of the beavor. It is frequented by a variety of birds, and sea-wolves, on which its inhabitants chiefly sub- sist. They find also a fruit here called mexcales, which 13 juicy and very pleasant. A variety of beautiful shells lie en the shore ; some of an exquisite azure hue. From the top of the mountain on this island, the explorers have a view of two other small ones, eight or ten leagues to the westward There are also in the bay of San Xavier three other small islands, which are frequented by the sea-wolf and beaver. Farther northward they discover others, which they conjecture to be those that form the channel of Santa Barbara. Thev can obtain no information respecting these latter from the people of Amalgua. For they inform the Padre that their f 1 r 230 S (-• K N i: S IN THE PACIFIC sorcerers have prohibited them all intercourse with their in- habitants, and even the privilege of looking toward them The Pa(hc fnuls no difficulty in persuading the people of Amalj^ua to accompany him to the mission. The only tppo- sition arises from an ohl sorcerer. But his influence tllects nothing. Even his own wife proposes to leave him if he will not go with them. And he also finally consents. They cm- bark, therefore, on their raft for the coast; but are obliged to seek shelter from a storm, on the desert island of Asegua, and remain there several days. With the return of fair weather, they put off again for the continent. As they are floating along close in shore, they discover some sea- wolves disporting themselves on a sand bank ; and the sorcerer, anxious to vent his ill-humor upon something, and being a dexterous swim- mer, plunges into the water for the purpose of killing one of the animals. They all flee at his approach ; but in attempt- ing to return to the raft he is seized, in sight of the whole company, by an enormous shark ! By some extraordinary feat, however, he clears himself; and, not satisfied with this, throws the blood, which issues from his wounds, at the hun- gry fish ! He is seized a second time with a hold not so shaken oflT. The exasperated fish goes down with him ; and no trace of his existence is left, except a faint red tinge which slowly rises, and fades into the deep green of the sea ! Padre Taraval now receives orders from the Visitor General to proceed at once to the erection of his new mission among the Coras, at Palmas bay. It is particularly desirable that it shall go into early operation. For the continual presence of the Padres is indispensable to keep these turbulent and deceitful people in subordination. All preparation being therefore speedily made. Padre Taraval travels from Loretto to the bay of La Paz, thence to the mission of San Jago, at Palmas bay, and founds his mission on the old site of San Jago. He finds his people somewhat advanced by the former efforts of Padre Napoli, and the visits which they have received from Padres Carranco and Tamaral. T n A V E L S IN r 11 j; C A I. I i- U N I A s 237 Nevertheless, he raects with so much violent opposition, that it requires all his address to advance his objects in such manner as not to arouse these Indians' malevolence. But he succeeds, not only in bringing a great part of the unconverted to seek baptism, but also in winning their confidence and affection to such a degree, that at a future period they save his life at the risk of their own. CHAPTER XIV. A Rebellion attempted— Arrivral from the Seas. — The Sick — Depart- ure — Disaflection among the Indians — Insurrection — FearfulTimes — Martyrdom of Padres Carranco and Tamaral — All the Missions in a State of Revolt — The Padres retire to Loretto — Aid denied by the Viceroy — It comes from the Indians themselves — The Missions in the North send Delegates to the PaJres — Peace made and Padres resume their Labors — Southern Missions recovered — Indians reduced to Subjection — Condition of the Conquest in 1745. Meantime, in the winter of 1733-4, some signs of revolt have appeared in the missions San Jago and San Josef. The chief, called Boton, the offspring of an Indian and a negro, a most profligate mulatto, who has been reproved by the Padre Carranco, for some of his excesses, and afterward continuing in the same practices, has been punished publicly, allies him- self with another mulatto, named Chicori, belonging to the mission Sa:i Josef, whom the Padre has also chidden on ac- count of similar vices. These miserable men seek revenge. Accordingly they excite the unfriendly Indians in every possi- ble way to an outbreak at San Jago. Padre Tamaral hearing of this, and unsuspicious that the like is growing in his own mission, hastens to San Jago to assist Padre Carranco in quelling the difficulties. Boton being absent when he ar- i m 238 8 C K N E S IN THE PACIFIC. rives, little disposition exists among the Indians to persist ; and Padre Taraaral proposes to return to his own mission. But he is informed by a friendly Indian that Boton and Chicori, with two bodies of men, are stationed on his route, to kill him. Being satisfied of the truth of this report by men dis- patched to reconnoitre, the Padre sends to his catechumens at San Josef, to arm themselves and go in quest of the enemy. These, faithful to their teacher, put them to flight, burn their dwellings, and escort the Padre home in peace and triumph. The leaders of the rebellion now come in, and beg for peace. It is concluded in 1734, with the great rejoicings of both parties. When all is settled, the Indians confess their inten- tion to have murdered rll th- mission^ vies in the country. A few days after this, :.ome Indians who have been fishing off" Cape San Lucas, come running to the mission with much 'oy and wonder expressed in their countenances, and inform the Padre that a large ship is near the Cape, standing directly toward the bay San Rarnabe. The Padre sends a young man of Loretto to ascertain what this report means, and soon learns that a Philippine galleon has come to anchor in the hay, and has sent a party of armed men ashore for water. The mariners of this vessel are much rejoiced to hear that a mission has been erected in the neighborhood ; and inform the good Padre that, besides their want of water, they are so dreadfully afflicted with the scurvy that they require his kindest atten- tions. The Padre, therefore, orders his Indians to collect fresh acid fruits and convi^y them on board. At the t-arae time he directs the greatest part of the cattle to be driven down for the use of the afflicted mariners, encourages the Indians to assist thei:. in filling their water vessels, and other- wise shows them every attention within his power to bestow. Under such treatment, all the sick speedily recover, except three. These are more diseast:' han the others ; and ac- cordingly, when the ship is ready to sail, they are invited to remain at the mission. Their names are, Don Josef Francisco de Baytos, Captain of Marines, Dou Antonio de Herrera, TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIA S, 239 boatswain, and the Most Rev. Domingo de Horbigoso, of the order of San Augustine. They are comraendetl to Padre Tamaral, by Captain Pon Geronirao Montero, and the Padre Commissary, Matthias de Ibarra. The Captain informs Padre Tamaral that the galieon will always put in here for water and the recovery of the sick ; and desires that a supply of cattle may be kept on hand for them. This the Padre pro- mises, and the galleon weighs anchor for Acapulco. The Padre takes his three patients to the mission, and de- votes his tenderest skill and assiduity to their recovery. Every luxury or delicacy the region affords is kept exclusively for their comfort. He sends to the neighboring missions for the best of their stores, gives them his own food to eat. In a word, iv spares no self-denial or care for their benefit ; and has the pleasure of seeing them all recover. But the boat- swain is attacked by another disease, which proves fatal^ and is buried with proper solemnity, in the little church. In the following April, Captain Baytos and Padre Horbigoso, being entirely recovered, leave San Josef for Mexico, in a vessel which has come up from La Paz for that purpose. The Padre missionaries continue their labors ; patiently hoping that these miserable Indians will, in time, come to such a state of comfort as shall, in some measure, compensate them for their efforts. In the summer of 1734, Padre Gordon, of La Paz, goes to Loretto to hasten the supplies for his own and the other missions of the south. Don Manuel Andres Romero, who juperintends the mission during his absence, discovers some disaffection among the Indians. It seems, however, evily allayed. They appear happy an'l tranquil. But undor this appearance, a most sanguinary spirit is at work ! The Indians are becoming weary of the restraint im- posed on their beastly propensities by the presence and rule of the Padres. The (rreatest trial, is the abrogation of their old laws, perinittin;^ pnlyn;aray. They are also prevented from entering into those bloody wars which have so long been their priacipal pastime; and from seeking revenge on those :t IN 240 p (; E N r. » I N r ii k v a «: i k i c who injure thoin. AI(()i;otlicr, the rosliaint of Christianity, the personal njalif^nity of Hoton and Chicori, and the de- CfMiceless state of tlie missions, encourage these i<^norant sava- ges to attempt a revolt and the butchery of those whom they esteem their oppressors. It must not he understood that there are none amon;^ the converted to o|)pose so wicked a step, and abide by tlieir spiritual fathers through all the troubles which follow. On the contrary, lart^e numbers fetl the tieepest grief and shame at the conduct of their countrymen. But only a small portion of all the natives have ever professed Christianity. So that if none of these are unfaithful, the n^a- jority will be greatly in favor of the rebels. The insurgents fnul some difficulty in concocting their plans. Their only fear is lest the arms of the soldiers shall do better execution than their own. And although among the four missions of Santa Rosa, La Paz, San Jago and San Josef, there are but seven, two of whom are invalids, they tinn their first attention to disposing of them. The first act of violence, therefore, is the murder of one of Padie Taraval's soldiers, whom they fall upon when alone and unarmed, at some dis- t.ince from the mission. They next repair to the Padre, and inform !iim that this man is suddenly taken very ill in the woods, and desires him to come to his relief. The Padre, having received some vague hints of the rising difficulties, suspects that all is not right ; and on (piestioning them closely, concludes from their confused maimer, t|iat they have mur- dered the man, ami intend to draw him from the house alone for the same bloody purpose. He therefore declines going or sending a second soldier ; but does not in any other way show susj icion or tear. In a few days this murder is follow- ed by that of Don Andres Romero, at La Paz. This remains some time a secret among the perpetrators ; so that t!iey are encouraged by these successes to more open demonstrations in the district of San Jago ; all which the Padre, from his defenceless condition and his desire to avoid provoking the Indians, suffers to pass without notice. <•* I TRAVKI, S IN THE CAI, IFonNIAS. 241 About this time Padre Tainaral is attacked with a danger- ous disease; and being alone vvilh the Indians of his mission, he sends for a soldier from Loretto to act as guard, nurse and physician. This soldier, after his arrival at San Jago, be- comes convinced that danger broods among the savages. He communicates his thoughts to Padre Tamaral, and oflers to t^arry him to La Paz. But the latter thinks his fear magni- fies the danger, and . cfuses to go. The soldier declares he will not stay there to die at the hands of bloo R N I A S . 255 crees that near all the safe harbors settlements shall be formed and garrisons established ; that there shall also be a garrison and town in the centre of the peninsula, or as near it as may be practicable ; that facilities shall be afforded for establishing missions at the north, in order to cut off intercourse between the Californian Indians and those of contiguous nations ; that in each mission there shall be two Padres instead of one, as heretofore ; that in all the frontier stations there shall be a guard under the command of the missionaries ; that the ex- pense of carrying all these orders into execution shall be de- frayed from the Royal treasury ; and finally, that the mission- aries in California shall be allowed the same salaries as are paid to their order elsewhere. These measures give great satis- faction in Mexico and California. The hearts of the good Padres are cheered by the assurance thus afforded them, that they have in their monarch an earnest friend, who has come forward in his strength to their aid. They now proceed on their pilgrimage of holy labors, with hearts full of grateful praise to Him whom they serve. In the succeeding year, 1745, the following statement of the number and condition of the missions is drawn up by the Padres for the information of their sovereign. This table in- cludes the names and localities of the missions, of the ranohe- rias or towns, and the Padres attached to them. I. Nuestra Senora de Loretto, in 25° 30', whh the Royal Garrison, and the place where the barks deliver their cargoes — Padre Gaspar de Truxillo. II. San Xavier, Padre Miguel del Barco. 1. San Xavier, 250 30'. 2. Santa Rosalia, 7 leagues W. 3. San Miguel, 8 " N. 4. San Augustine, 10 " S. E. 5. Dolores, 2 leagues E. 6. San Pablo, 8 leagues N. W. III. Nuestra Senora de los Dolores del Sur, formerly San Juan Baptista Malibat, or Ligui — Padre Clement Guillen. 1; — =; sai 256 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC, 1 Nuestra Senora de los Dolores, 24° 30'. 2 La Concepcion de Nuestra SeDora. 3. La Incarnacion. 4. La Santissima Trinidad. 5. La Redcmpcion. 6. La Resurreccion. IV. San Luis Gonsaga — Padre Lamberto Hotel. 1. San Luis Gonsaga, 25**. 2. San Juan Nepomuceno. 3. Santa Maria Magdalena, on Magdalena Bay. V. San Josef de Commondu, without a missionary since the death of Padre Francisco Xavier Wagner, 12th October, served by Padre Druet. '- 1. San Josef, 260. 2. Another village 1 league W. 3. Another " 7 leagues N. 4. Another " 10 " east, on the shore. VL Santa Rosalia Mulege — Padre Pedro Maria Nascimben. 1. Santa Rosalia, 26° SO'. 2. Santissima Trinidad, 6 leagues S. S. E. 3. San Marcos, 8 leagues N. Vn. La Purissima Concepcion — Padre Jacobo Druet. 1. La Purissima Concepcion, 26^. It has six other villages within 8 leagues round Cabecera, the metropolis of the mission, the names of which are not enumerated. VIII. Nuestra Senora de Guadalupe — Padre Josef Ctastieg« 1. Nuestra Senora de Guadalupe, 27°. 2. Concepcion de Nuestra Senora, 6 leagues S. 3. San Miguel, 6 leagues S. E. 4. San Pedro and San Pablo, 8 leagues E. 5. Santa Maria, 5 leagues N. IX. San Ignacio — Padre Sebastian de Sistiaga. 1. San Ignacio, 28°. 2. San Borgia, 8 leagues. 3. San Joachin, 3 (( 4. S. Sabas, 3 5. S. Athanasio, 5 6. Santa Monica, 7 7. Santa Martha,ll (C u TRAVELS IN THE CALIF0RNIA8. 257 8. Santa Lucia, 10 leagues. 9. Santa Nynfa, 5 " X. Nuestra Senora de los Dolores del Norte — Padre Fer- nando Consa^. This mission is joined with that of San If^na- cio, and cultivated by the Padres Sistiaga and Consag; within its district, which lies 30 leagues from San Ignacio, and in the Lat. of 29=2, there are already 548 baptized Indians. XI. Santa Maria Magdalena, begun in the north by the same Padre Consag, who writes concerning it to the Padre Provincial, Josef Barba ; yet no convenient place for its seat is to be found, though the converts are as well disposed and regular as those of San Ignacio. XII. San Jago del Sur, Padre Antonio Tempis. 1. San Jago, 33^. 2. The anchoring place of Santa Maria de la Luz. XIII. Nuestra Senora del Pilar de la Paz. Of this mission no account comes with the others ; nor of those which have been restored, which are — XIV. Santa Rosa in Palmas Bay. XV. San Josef del Cabo de S. Lucas at the station of the new garrison. XVI. San Juan Baptista, begun in the north at the village of San Juan Baptista, but not yet established. These are the missions of Lower California in the year 1745. They contain about twenty-five thousand converts living comfortably under the paternal government of the Jesuit Padres. Padres Salva Tikrra, Kino and Ugarte are dead ; but the good deeds which they have done, like the grass and the flowers on their graves, grow greenly, bud and blossom, and shed on the deserts of the Californian pe- ninsula, a perpetual harvest of temporal and religious joy. The handicrafts which they have taught them ; the science of agriculture which they have given them ; the animals which they have reared around their dwellings ; the great idea of a God; and the awards which He has woven inseparably with the elements of life, mind, and every condition of being ; the discomfort, debasement, and misery of vice j the quietness, 37 it 956 8CENE9 IN THE PACIFIC elevation, and happiness of virtue ; all these, the Padres have scattered — seeds, bearing the fruits of the social and religious relations, and the numberless comforts of the civilized state. These integral laws of immortal rationality, have germinated among the wastes of man, under the kind planting of the Pa- dres, on the Californian Peninsula. A mighty deed of moral suasion ! Not by the steel of conquest, which drinks the blood of the weak, and opens the red pathway to physical suprema- cy ; slaying body and mind ; enslaving and murdering. This conquest of the Padres is a victory of Love. Instead of the torpedo, they plant the rose of Sharon ; instead of the starless night of bondage, they bring the full day of knowledge — filled with the industry, trust, faith, hope and energies, of a ripened freedom. Who can contemplate these Missionaries, enduring the hardships which have been partially related on these pa- ges, and not venerate their memory ? They have voluntarily come from the shrines of early remembrances, and torn from the heart its young and tender impulses. Tliey have left on the cold fields of the past, every tie of kindred, and the natu- ral hopes of humanity. They have taken the vows of God on their souls ; separated their hands and thoughts from every selfish service ; and with bosoms bared to every shaft of possi- ble events, entered the abodes of savages, shielded only by their good deeds and holy purposes ! They have conquered Lower California. It has become a part of the domain of the Spanish crown. From 1745 to 1767, the Jesuit Padres continue their labors at these missions. The Spanish government, meanwhile, give them small relief from the famines occasioned by the failure of their crops. They mainly depend upon the products of the mission plantations, and the rude manufactures of the Indian artizans, for every comfort of life. And not only do they sus- tain themselves, but every year brings in the ships from the Philippine Islands, with crews rotting of the scurvy, for the Padres to feed, clothe, restore to health, or bury in their ceme- teries ' TRAVELS IN TIIK LI F n N I A 3 . 259 Their labors of love, however, draw to a close. The soci- ety of Jesus or Jesuits, to which they belong, has existed about two hundred years. It has sent its missionarieit into Per> sia, Hindostan, China and Japan. It has written more than one hundred volumes in the Chinese language alone, many hundreds more in the different dialects ot the Eastern tongues ; has chided and controlled the civil powers of Europe ; has made the kingdoms of the whole earth feel its power. The Pope himself hol - Santa Barbara. 1787, - - - - La Purissima Concepcion. 1791, - m - - NaSadelaSoledad. 1794, - - - - Santa Cruz. 1797, - - - - Son Miguel. 7 of the two armies, whether the Don or the Captain surrendered. But the most authentic accounts rattier fuvor the opinion that the Captain had the better of the battle. And I have little doubt that when the Hume of that country shall write its annals, and some unborn Ossian shall sing of the mighty tread and thundering bucklers of the Castros and Carrillos of that streamy land, they will not only commemorate the bloody ramparts of San Buenaventura, but speak worthily of the Don, as great even in defeat, and of Captain Jose as glo- riously triumphant. This idea is remarkably strengthened by the fact that as soon as the termination of the campaign was announced at Monterey, the puissant Alvarado journeyed to San Buenaventura, and thence in company with his Captain Castro to El Pueblo de los Angelos, where he took posses- sion of the worthy old Don's house, and acted the Governor upon the wines and brandies therein contained, with all the taste and suavity so well known to be his peculiar excellen- ces, and possessed himself of whatever else he listed of the Don's personal estate. But — how unjust not to name it — after having robbed his uncle, he gave in return a promise to pay, which I was told still stands good against him, a sum equal to his own estimate of the value he had taken. From El Pueblo de los Angelos, Governor Alvarado proceeded to San Diego, the southernmost port of Alta Cali- fornia ; and received there and elsewhere the submission of the inhabitants, till the whole country recognized the said Juan Baptiste Alvarado, El Goubernador del Alta California. Even the glorious old Don Carlos Antonio Carrillo is said to have paid court to the young conqueror, and not altogether unwillingly, after so much blood shed in defence of his dig- nity and the high honors of his office, to have laid aside his pretensions with much grace and apparent satisfaction ; thus demonstrating that noble and rare principle which leads the truly great man, — after the exercise of every energy, after wading through seas of gore, after baring his bosom to the knife of fate, after having met, defied, endured, every hazard, 9 298 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. every hardship, for the aUainraetit of his just rights, — to prove himself not only " par secundis," but " major adversis," by seeking repose, and calling on (he shades of forgetfulness to fall around the memory of heroic exploits, which such a man blushes t ) hear coapled with his name. So little need has true worth of noise and praise. But I should do great injus- tice to the worthy Don, if J neglected to state his manner of obtaining; the commission of Governor of Upper California, in support of which he struggled so manfully. About two years after the Revolution which raised Alva- rado to power, the excellent old Don sei t an account of that event to his friend Sa Excellentissimo, El Presideute Busta- mcnte, in which among other matters it was stated that, in Cftse Mexico would make an appc^-^traent of a Californian of the Governorship of the country (suggesting at the same timi' that he the worthy Don was at the service of the State,) — he, the Don, and his amigos would reconquer the country, and return it '.o the alk ^^iance of Mexico. The Don's brother, a man of great patriotism — id est, Mexican patriotism, or the most devoted disposition to take care of himself, — bore ihis dispatch. In due time he icturncd with a con^mission — em- powering his brother Don to assume the Government of Alta California. The only irregula'-itj in the instrument which arrested attention was ihe absence of the proper signa- tures and the Seal of State. But as the Don wjis calleil El Goubernat^or in the body of the instrument, that irregu- larity was deemed by his friends of trifling importa.ice. But it was this that the wily Alvarado seized upon as a pretext for not delivering up the helm of Government to the most excellent and stately old Don, and allowing himself and his partisans to be shot according to the ' i\v, for having rebelled against In Kepublica Mex-oana. From the year 1838 <.o the year 1840, the time when the author entered California, Alvarado continued to be the Gov- ernor of that lovely land. And during that period no events occurred worthy of being detailed. ! • 5 1 1 i ; ■ 1 - 1 l' '' '1 CHAPTER XVI Geology of the Californias — Boundaries — Lower California — Moun- tains — Surface — Desert»— Valleys — Streams — Temperature — Pro- ductions — Exports — Pearl Fishery Present condition of Lower California. The Geology of the Californias. — ^The feature of the Rocky Mountains and the regions lyin^ west of them, most interesting tc the geologist, is found in the evidences of past volcanic action, which are strown far and wide about the path of the traveller wherever he goes. The main ranges, which rise from twelve to twenty-seven thousand feet above the level of the sea, are chiefly composed of primitive rock, covered with eternal snows. Having passed these, the wayfarer westward enters a region, parts oi which are occupied by plains covered with volcanic sands and debris— or piled with mountains of fused rock and decomposing lava clothed with forests of terebinthine trees, broken often by bold barren tracts of cliffs, and overhung here and there by lofty pinnacles of extinct vol- canoes, towering in freezing sublimity, thousands of feet above the line of perpetual frosts — great sentinels in the heavens — clad in the shining raiments of everlasting snow. This is a general description of the whole territory lying west of the Rocky Mountains, and extending from Cape San Lucas to the Arctic sea. The peninsula of Lower California, extending from Cape San Lucas to the Bay of Todos Santos, in Lat. 32° N., on the Pacific, and to the mouth of the Colorado, on the Gulf side, is a pile of volcanic debris and scoriae. Much of the surface is still heated by subterranean fires. No craters are in action. But hot springs of water and bitumen, and frequent earth- 43 T :iii i : I ' ! ^ 1 I I 'fA ii I f 1 1 .'300 SCENTS IN THE P A C I TI C. quakes, and the scorclu'il face of the whole region, demoustratc it to be a mere mass upheaved from the sea, and burned to cinders. The ransje of mountains that comes un throuo;h Low 61 California, runs on northwardly into Upp r California, at an average distance of sixty or seventy miles from the sea, till it falls away into low hills south of the bay of San Francisco. This, also, is a volcanic range ; though not so strongly marked to that effect in the Upper as in the Lower Province. Some portions of this range are lofty. That part lying east and south-east of El Pueblo de los Angelos, is tipped with perpetual snows. But the greater part of it presents a base covered up to more than half of the whole elevation with pine and cedar forests ; the remaining height being com posed of bare, dark, glistening rocks, lying in confused masses, or turreted in the manner observed on the Black Hills, in the Great Prairie Wilderness : — spires, towers and battlements lifted up to heaven, among which the white feathery clouds of beautiful days rest shining in the mellow sun. The Snowy Mountain range is perhaps the boldest and most peculiar of the Californian highlands. Its western ter- minus is Cape Mendocino, a bold snow-capped headland, bending over the Pacific in 40^ N. Latitude. Its western ter- minus is in the Wind River Mountains, Latitude 42° N., about seven hundred miles from the sea. Its peculiarity consists in what may be termed its confused geological character. Near the sea its rocks are primitive, its strata regular. A hun- dred miles from the sea where the President's range crosses it, eveiything is fused — burned ; and at the distance of seventy miles northeastwardly from the Bay of San Francisco, a spur comes off" with a lofty peak, which pours out immense quantities of lava, and shoots up a flame so broad and bright as to be seen at scd, and to produce distinct shadows at eighty miles' distance. Here is an extensive tract of this range which has been burned, and whose strata have been torn from their natural positions ; displaying an amalgamated mass of primi- tive rocks, ex loco, mingled with various descriptions of TRAVELS IN THE CALIFJRNIAS. 301 volcanic remains. From this point eastward, it is a broken irregular chain of peaks and rifted collateral ranges, and spurs running off northwardly and southwardly, some of which are primitive and others volcanic. Another range of mountains which deserves notice in this place, is that which bounds the valley of the San Joaquim on the east. This is a wide and towering range. It is in fact a continuation of the President's ran„e, and partakes very strongly of its volcanic character. That part of it which lies eastwardly from the Bay of San Francisco, is very broad and lofty. One of its peaks. Mount Jackson, as it is called, is the highest in all the President's range. A mighty shaft of rocks is that ! Mountains of great siz'~ are piled around it, but they appear like molehills beside tnat veteran mount. Some of these lesser ones are so high as to oe covered with snow most of the year. But this vai^t peak towers over them all several thousand feet, a glitteriniij cone of ice. These moun- tains decrease in height as they advance towards the mouth of tht- Colorado, where they terminate in low crags and sandy hills. All over the Californias, the traveller finds evidences of volcanic action. Far in the interior, among the deserts ; in the streams ; in the heights ; in the plains ; everywhere are manifestations of the fact, that the current of subterranean fire which crossed tho Pacific, throwing up that line of isl- ands lying on the sou the sea of Karaschatka, and passed down the continent uphe.ivinfr thr Oregon Territory, ul also bring up from the bed of the cenn the Californias ; and among geological periods, I venture the opim m that this great event occurred at quite a recent date. Geography. — The Californias are bounded on theMorlh by the 42d parallel of Latitude ; on the Easi, y a line running due north from the head waters of the Arkansas river, and by the Anahuac and Taos mountains ; on the South, ' the rivtr Jila and the Gulf of California; and on tli- est, by the Pacific Oceiin M hi H ' t III ! It I If II 302 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC A general idea of the surface will be given the rtader if I say that the peninsula, or Lower California, which expends from Cape San Lucas in N. Lat. 22° 48', to the Bay of Todos Santos in Lat. 32^ N., is a pile of barren volcanic mountains, with very few streams, and still fewer spots of ground capable of sust^'iining vegetation ; and if I state that the country lying north o"tbis peninsula, called Upper California, is perhaps the most beautiful and productive in the world ; and that the ter- ritory lying north and south of the Colorado of the West, and within the boundaries just given to the Californias, is a howling desolation. But as so general a description of a country, that has never been described, will scarcely meet the expectations of my readers, I shall proceed to particulars as far as my space will allow. Lower California. — The Gulf of California lies on the east of the Southern Province. The Rio Colorado enters it at its northern part. At the junction of these waters we will commence our view of Lower California. From the highlands near the mouth of this river, a wild and somewhat interesting scene opens. In the east appears a line of mountains of a dark hue, stretching down the coast of the Gulf as far as the eye can reach. These heights arc generally destitute of trees ; but timber grows in some of the ravines. The general aspect, howr"°r, is far from pleasing. There is such a vastness of monotonous desolation ; so dry, so blistered with volcanic fires , so forbidding to the wants of thirsting and hungering men, that one gladly turns his eye upon the water, the Mar de Cortex, the Gulf of California. The Colorado, two and a half miles in width, rushes into this Gulf with great force, lashing as it goes the small islands lying at its mouth, and for many leagues around the waters of the Gulf are discolored by its t urbulent flood. On the west sweep away the mountains of Lower California. These also are a thirsty mass of burned rocks, so dry that vegetation finds no resting-place among them. But they lift themselves nobly to the cloudSj and look so venerable in their baldness, that \ • i TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIA: 303 one feels an ill-defined but absorbing interest in viewing them. Man never treads their treeless heights — he finds among them neither food nor drink ; nor will they ever resound with the voices and tumults of human life. Still, is there not in a wilderness of barren mountains a vast idea of chilling un- changeableness which inspires a feelii '^ of awe and reve- rence 1 The poor Indians thought so. They peopled them with gods, and trembled when the moon lighted them dimly at night, and when the elements groaned among them. They stand a vast assemblage of red and brown dearth, extending in a bold jagged .Une broader and higher, onward and up- ward, till they fade away among the bright clouds and dew- less skies of Lower California : that field of trial for men who would plant on the heart of the Indian the seeds of a holy life ; the scenes of the labors, hopes and sufferings, of Padres Salva Tierra and Ugaute ; the burning-place of Padres Cor- rando's and Tamaral's martyrdom ! We will describe that countr}' as it now exists. That province of Lower Califorma, extends from Cape San Lucas to the Bay of Todos Santos, £.nd varies from thirty to one hundred and fifty miles in width, a superficial extent al- most equal to that of Great Britain ; and yet on account of its barrenness, never will, from the products of the soil, main» tain five hundred thousand people in a state of comfort, ordi- narily found in the civilized condition. This statement may seem surprising to those who are acquainted with the geolo- gical fact that, though it is a volcanic country, tic lava and other volcanic matter is decomposing at the usual rate. But surprise will cease when such persons are informed that every few years tornadoes sweep over the country with such vio- lence, and bearing with them such floods of rain, that what- evei* of soil has been in any manner previously formed, is swept into the sea. So that even those little nooks among the mountains, where the inhabitants from time to time make their fields, and task the vexed earth for a scanty subsistence, are liable to be laid bare by the torrent*. In case the soil 304 S.-ENE8 IN THE PACIFIC. 1 i I H " chance to be lodged in some other dell, before it reach the Ocean or the Gulf, and the people follow it to its new loca- tion, they find perhaps no water there and cannot cultivate it Consequently they are off . driven by dreadful want to some other point in quest of sustenance, where they may not find it, and perish amon^ the parched highlands. For the space of twenty or thirty leagues from the Cape San Lucas the air is rendered mild and kindly by the sea breezes, and the ground in many parts being wet by little currents of water running from the highlands, is very fruitful. From this section to Loretto, Latitude 26^* 16' N., the heat is excessive, the soil dry and barren, and the surface of the country extremely craggy and forbidding. From Loretto northward to Todos Santos, the air is more temperate, the water in the mountains some- times freezes, and the soil is not so rugged ai,u full of rocks, but is barren and desolate as that around Loretto. The mean range of temperature in the whole country in the summer season is from 60*^ to 74° Fahrenheit. The rains fall in the winter months ; are very severe, and of short duration. During the remainder of the year the air is dry and clear j and the sky more beautiful than the imagination can conceive. The range of mountains occupying the whole interior of this country, vary in height from one to five thousand feet above the level of the sea. They are almost bare of all ver- dure, mere brown piles of barrenness, sprinkled here and there with a cluster of briars, small shrubs, or dwarf trees. Amonsf the ridges are a few spots to which the sweeping rains have spared a little soil. These, if watered by springs or streams, are beautiful and productive. There are also a few plaices near the coast which are well adapted to tillage and pastur- age. But the principal difficulty with this region, is one common to all countries of volcanic origin, — a scarcity of water. The porousness of the rocks allows it to pass under ground to the sea. Consequently one finds few streams and springs in Lower California. From the Cape San Lucas to the mouth of ■V \ I TRAVELS IN THE C A L I F O R N I A S. 305 the Colorado, six hundred miles, there are only Iwo streams emptying into the Gulf. One of these is called San Josef del Cabo. It passes through the plantations of tjie Mission bear- ing the same name, and discharges itself into the bay of San Barnabas. The other is the Mulege, which waters the Mission of Santa Rosalia, and enters the Gulf in Latitude 27° N. These are not navigable. The streams on the ocean coast, also, are few and small. Some of them are large enough to propel light machinery, or irrigate considerable tracts of land, but none of them are navigable. In the interior are several large springs, which send out abundant currents along the rocky beds of their upper courses ; but when irey reach the loose sands and porous rocks of the lower country, they sink and enter the sea through subterranean channels. A great misfor- tune it is too, that the lands which border those portions of these streams which run above the ground, consist of barren rocks. Where springs, however, and arable land occur together, immense fertility is the consequence. There is some variety of climate on the coasts, which it may be well to mention. On the Pacific si ore the temperature is rendered delightfully balmy by the sea breezes, and the humidity which they bring along with them, Fahrenheit's thermometer ranges on this coast, during the summer, between fifty-eight and sev- enty-one degrees. In the winter months, while the rains are falling, it sinks as low as fifty degrees above zero. On the Gulf coast there is a still greater variation. While at the Cape, the mercury stands between sixty and seventy degrees ; near the head of the Gulf it is down to the freezing point. These isolated facts, in regard to the great territory under consideration, will give the reader as perfect an idea of the surface and agricultural capacities of Lower California as will be here needed. In fact, this country has already been pretty clearly and fully described in my account of the Missionary operations of Padres Salva Tierra and Ugarte. The few fertile spots in Lower California were occupied at an early day, and planted with maize, wheat, beans, peas. il II' I i '■ f .1 i ll: 306 SCENBS IN THE PACIVIC. and all manner of esculent roots. The European vine was also introduced extensively, and yielded grapes of the finest quality. From these grapes, wines were made which were equal in excellence to those of the Canary Islands. The orange, lemon, lime, citron, prune, plantain, pine-apple, and other tropical fruits, were also planted, and yielded abundant crops. These articles are still cultivated by the present inhabit- ants. They also rear, as of old, horses, black cattle, mules, goats, and a few hogs. But the gross amount of all these products, in a country where there is so little fruitful land, is very small ; and in fact the people, though not numerous, are unable, on those barren shores, to supply themselves at all times with the necessaries of life. But, there is, in the construction of the Universe, a great compensatory law, which, when one blessing is withheld, grants another in its stead. So here, while the land is deso- late, the sea is stored with an incredible abundance and variety of fish. Only a few of them can be named ; the halibut, salmon, turbot, skate, pilchard, large oyster, thornback, mackerel, barbel, bonitos, soles, lobsters, crabs, sardines, cod, tunnies, anchovies, and pearl oysters. These fish are all of the finest quality, and exceedingly numerous. In a word, the waters of Lower California are so rich, that, although the land be dreary and for the most part a leaflet ste, the country would be a valuable acquisition to t ^ commercial nation. The value of the pearl oyster alone would authorize us to make this remark. There are immense beds of these in the Gulf. In the language of the Naturalists this is a testaceous fish of the genus mya, species margaritifera ; which being translated into the ^age of common sense means, that the pearl oyster is ^ ' jf water animal, living between a pair of shells like an) j) ;r gentleman oyster. And this gentle- man they tell us is sometimes afflicted with disease at one end of himself; and having none of Sands' Sarsaparilla where- withal to effect a cure, a little stony concretion of the carbon- ate of lime is collected, or to use words which are accustomed I Tke Mackerdr—Viqfi 30a. Tke Cbd.— Page 306. Th» TYmny.— Page 806 The T\jirkey Buzzard. — Page 306. 44 ' '1* ; 'If! I« I' i«' i> ( ill! J I I ¥ .. ■-t! _! T R A V K L S IN THE C A I. 1 K R N I A S. J07 to be understood by sensible people in contradistinction to the learned, a small light-colored, bright and round bunch is formed, about as large as a good healthy dew-drop of May, which IS called a pearl. The use of this article usually is to ornament the necks of those whose brains are of deficient growth, and the ears and heads of those who are born to more titles than thoughts. The thing has no real value in itself; but as vanity has rendered it a valuable means of throwing into shadow these deficiencies of nature, commerce has given it a place among her most valuable commodities. These pearls of Lower California are considered of excellent water ; but their rather irregular figure somewhat reduces their value. The manner of obtaining these pearls is not without interest. The vessels employed in the fisheries are from fifteen to thirty tons burthen. They are usually fitted out by private individuals. The Armador or owner commands them. Crews are shipped to work them, and from forty to fifty Indians, called Busos, to dive for the oyster. A stock of provisions and spirits, a small sum of money to advance the people during the cruise, a limited supply of calaboose furni- ture, a sufficient number of hammocks to sleep in, and a quantity of ballast, constitute nearly all the cargo outward bound. Thus arranged they sail into the Gulf; and having arrived at the oyster banks, cast anchor and commence busi- ness. The divers are first called to duty. They plunge to the bottom in four or five fathom water, dig up with sharpen- ed sticks as many oysters as they are able, rise to the surface and deposit them in sacks hung to receive them at the ves- sel's side. And thus they continue to do until the sacks are filled, or the hours allotted to this part of the labor are ended. When the diving of the day is done, all come on board and place themselves in a circle around the Armador, who divides what they have obtained, in the following manner : two oysters for himself, the same number for the Busos, or divers, and one for the government. This division having been concluded, they next proceed s< 308 SCENES IN THB PACIFIC. without moving from their places, to open the oysters which have fallen to the lot of the Armador. During this operation, that dignitary has to watch the Busos with the greatest scru- tiny, to prevent them from swallowing the pearls with the oysters ; a trick which they perform with so much dexterity, as almost to defy detection, and by means of which they often manage to secrete the most valuable pearls. The govern- ment portion is next opened with the same precautions, and taken into possession by the A raador. And last of all the Busos open theirs, and sell then to the Armador in liquida- tion of debts incurred for their outfits, or of moneys advanced during the voyage. They usually reserve a few to sell to dealers on shore, who always accompany these expeditions with spirituous liquors, chocolate, sugar, cigars, and other articles of which these Indian divers are especially fond. Since the Mexicans obtained their independence, another mode of division has been adopted. Every time the Busos come up, the largest oyster which he has obtained is taken by the Armador and laid ! tation of future being . and threw ov«' that new life of beloved hope, the bow of His eternai promises. And for ever, yes, alway, while the good revert to thi past, for examples of great devotion to the deeds of a holy benevolence, will they point to the thirsty deserts of Lower California, and the crum- bling walls of the old missions, and speak the names of Salva Tierra and Uoarte. The government of Lower California, while administered by iuei^e excellent men, was patriarchal in its general features, and aimed at the happiness of the governed. At the expul- sion of the Jesuits from Spanish America, the Franciscans suc- ceeded to their placps; but being unacquainted with the character of the people, their good intentions towards them were in a great degree thwarted by their incapacity to meet the duties of their stai.on. These were succeeded by the Dominicans ; excellent men in their wa^' ; but failing to equal the great founders of a system of things which they were called to carry out, in that brcc' and untiring be- TRAVELS IN THE (; A L I F R N I A S. 311 nevoli-nco which distinguisheil those remarkable men, they have hun!^ to the present clay, like drones upon the honey- cells of their predccessoi-s' labors, till the walls around those mission altars have tumbled about their heads, and the people of tiieir charge have become nearly extinct. There is indeed much excuse for this conduct of the Dominicans, in the fact that after the Mexican Republic had supplanted the Spanish power in that country, a pack of political mendicants were sent thither from Mexico, who were authorized by some of the predatory statutes of that government, to control the acts of the Padres, remove the neophytes from the jurisdiction of their spiritual advisers, and in their zeai for the public weal, to rob the missions of their cattle, mules, and other property, for their own individual benefit. But this is hardly an excuse for their tame submission to such encroachments upon the rights of the poor Indian. His own hand had opened the fields of his own country ; his eye had been raised from the altar of his own native hills to that God who succors the weak and defenceless, and to that God and his truth he had been devot- ed by martyrs ; and these priests should have been immolated iather than have lived to see their fair fabrics, which a holy faith had raised among the children of the desert, and the moral structures of heavenly love reared by the old Padres, on that bloody waste of human nature, destroyed by the un- hallowed selfishness of such depraved men as were those officers of the Mexican Republic. But so it was. The Mis- sions fell ; — and in their place naught is left but a howling ruin. A small part, indeed, of the original number still exist ; but the buildings even of theie are crumbling, and the fields are crowded with the columnar cactus, standing Where the Indian's bread stuffs were wont to grow — like sentinel spirits lingering around the graves of the loved and lost A sad sight indeed to behold are the old missions of Lower California ! The wild goat bleats from their faUing belfries j and the swallow builJs his nest among their aisles. M|l ^lifi^ li ill J ;J if Ir m J » ii?!? CHAPTER XVII. Rio Colorado and its Valley — Ruins — Rio Severe and Valley — An old . Trapper Explorer — Rio San Juan and Valley — Rio Jila and Valley — A Legend — Timpanigos Lake and Valley— Timpanigos Lake — Captain Young's Expedition — Death — Mary's River and Vale. This river has two principal sources ; the one among the Wind River spur of the Rocky Mountains, in Latitude 43'^ N., which as it moves southwardly becomes a considerable stream called Sheetskadee or Green River; the other among the eastern range of the Rocky Mountains, in Latitude 40*^ N., which, running westwardly, forms a stream still larger than the Sheetskadee, which has been called Rio Grande, or the Colorado of the West j a stream of dreadful remembrances, of horrid events, over which the narrator of Indian legends, as well as the chronicler of the early explorers, shudders to take a retrospect. Upper California. — River Colorado. — The water of this river is clear among the Rocky Mountains, but as it approach- es the Gulf, it becomes much discolored by red sand and clay. Hence its name — Colorado, a Spanish word meaning red. My friend, Doctor Lyman, of Buffalo, who travelled from Santa F6, in New Mexico, by the way of the Colorado of the West, to Upper California, in the year 1841, has kindly fur- nished me with some of his observations, as well on that stream as the adjacent territories and the Indians inhabiting them, which I feel great pleasure in giving to the reader. The Doc- tor's route lay northwesterly, up the head waters of the Rio Bra- vo del Norte — over the dividing ridge between those waters and the upper branches of the San Juan, and northwardly across these to the Rio Colorado of the West — down the northern bank of this river to the Caiifornian Mountains — and through these to El Pueblo de los Angelos, near the coast of the Pa- li* SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 313 eific. An eventful journey — through an unexplored country of untamed savages, which the Doctor's scientific attainments and interesting style amply qualify him to detail to his coun- trymen in a manner that would for ever connect his name with the border literature of America. But to this task, I fear he can never be persuaded. My friend says that the elevation of the Sheetskadee Valley above Santa Fe, is 3000 feet ; and that of the plain around the junction of this stream and Grand River, is about 2500 feet. It is known from other sources that the valleys of Grand and Sheetskadee are elevated 8000 feet above the level of the ocean. So that we may take our point of departure from the place where the Doctor struck the Colorado, and gain a pretty clear idea of the inclination of that eastern por- tion of the Californias. As for example, the linear distance from the mouth of the Sheetskadee to the outlet of the Colora- do into the Gulf of California, is about 700 miles. The Colo- rado then falls 8000 feet while running that distance ; and the bordering country dips in the same ratio. The Great Salt Lake, Timpanigos, also lies at an elevation of 8000 feet above the sea ; and the western declination of the country from this lake and the Sheetskadee, though somewhat broken by moun- tains, is still greater during the first 300 miles ; and the result which we should expect, is in accordance with fact, viz. that streams run off from the neighborhood of the Colorado, in a northw^esterly, and from that of the Great Salt Lake, in a westerly, direction, forming lakes without any visible outlet, or sinking in the sands of that desolate waste. Doctor Lyman writes me the following graphic account of these regions. " The traveller journeying northward, after leaving Santa Fe (Lat. 26° N.), passes, for the space of 300 miles, alternate ranges of mountains, separated by valleys of greater or less width, some exceedingly fertile, and others very barren. At times, consequently, he finds abundance of fine grass and pure water for his animals ; nnd at others so desolate and parched 45 rJ Is ■■ V. • ..!•' m m m IB I iii"' Ij S* i:l' ipii li If] ''h jlii I' -I! I " ' 1 TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIAS. is the land, that he has to make long days' journeys with scarcely a blade of food or a drop of water for their suste- nance. Between Santa Fe and Rio San Juan, one of the main branches of the Colorado of the West, a distance of 150 miles, the traveller and his animals are sure to fare well ; for most of the mountain sides and valleys abound in excellent pastur- age and pure ice-cold water, trickling down from the heights where the melting snows feed the springs till late in the sum- mer. After crossing the San Juan, in about Lat. 38^ N., and approaching the valleys of the Sheetskadee and Grand — the great mountain tributaries of the Colorado, — the country be- comes generally sterile, and broken in every direction by deep ravines with perpendicular banks, opposing almost insur- mountable obstacles to the traveller's progress ; compelling him to search many days before he can find a feasible passage across." The worthy Doctor thus describes the travelling down the banks of the Colorado : " The water in nearly every instance after leaving the crossing of the Colorado in Latitude SS^N., down to the Californian Mountains, a distance of seven or eight hundred miles, is either very brackish and slimy, or so excessively saline, as to have in many instances a fatal effect on animals and men. In some few instances, indeed, good waters are found ; but like visits from the world above, they are ' few and far between.' Sometimes, too, the traveller crosses vast barren plains utterly destitute of water, and upo.n which vegetation is so scarce that there will hardly be a blade of grass to a square mile of surface ! Occasionally wild sage (^salvia officinalis) is met with, but almost destitute of foliage. This, and the bare stems of other equally naked bushes, constitute the only food of wayfaring animals on these wastes. There are a few spots in this forsaken region where nature has attempted to chequer its desolation with green- ness. I found an occasional dry river bed, moistened only by the spring rains and the melting snows on the far distant mountains, which produced a few ' cane;^,' a diminutive SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 315 species of the arundo bambos, and sand grass. Ponds of salt water occasionally occur, around which there is a scanty supply of coarse vegetation. Over these dreadful wastes — scathed of God — is however everywhere found a scanty supply of the wild squash — the cucumis colocynthis, vihich serves only to tantalize the perishing traveller with the remembrance of fruitful fields and pleasant homes. In some places this fruit is even abundant ; but the pulp when ripe is a powerful drastic medicine, and when green, furnishes a poor apology for food to the starving emaciated wanderer. I was informed that the Paiuches Indians eat it when in the uniipe state, which is probably true ; for I saw, at different points, great numbers of the pods or shells scattered around their deserted fires." " In journeying down the Colorado one finds a few spots to which travellers have given names. The wayfarer descends from the mouth of Green River, or Sheetskadee, to a spot called Santa Clara, where a little herbage and water are found. Near this point the banks rise, and the river is buried in deep and roaring chasms. The traveller ascends therefore till he reaches another point called the Salt Mountain, and thence descends to another place of encampment called las Vegas, where there are about one hundred acres of salt grass; There a desolate plain commences, which extends about one hundred miles, partially covered with loose sand, piled into ridges curiously waved over the general surface, and in the ravines, whirled by the winds into a great variety of fantastic forms. These ravines are very numerous and deep ; very difticult to ascend and descend ; mere parched caverns, into which the drifting sands are driven by the heated winds. On all this plain there is no vegetation except a little salt grass on tho margins of a few stagnant pools of brackish and sul- phurous waters." When Doctor Lyman passed this desert, the sands were drifting hideously, and he was only guided in the right path across, by the carcasses of the horses which had perished in ri n r. ' $' I ^t}ii- « Sv n )^ m II i* r :" '* J. ili ,.: i.li -•*! .""! Mill it 322 srENES IN THE PACIFIC. Jila and its neighboring lands, v hich invites us to expect hereafter to see them inhabited by a somewhat dense and thriving population. The past history of this valley well delineated would fur- nish a tale of great interest. This was a part of the field in which the good Padre Kino administered to the savages the wholesome truths of Christ's Redemption. Who shall ever learn, till the great scroll of the past is opened by our Maker, what he endured, and what his joy was to suffer thus for others ! And now that the walls of hh missions lie crum- bling into dust on the banks of the Jila, and the Indian has returned to his wild estate, who shall be able to know how many sorrows he alleviated, how many pleasures he height- ened, and what well-springs of mature events his labors have opened, which shall enrich and gladden the hearts that shall beat there in coming time ? Peace to the good man's soul ! His memory will never be forgotten by those who love great and good men, devoted to deeds of righteousness. This val- ley was also one of the stopping-places of the Montezuma or Village Indians, during their southward movements from Behring's Straits to the city of Mexico and its vicinity. And here, it is said, the following remarkable prophecy was dt.- clared by one of their old seers. " The adorable Sun says that we shall wander" (a certain number of years) " and build cities, and see them destroyed, until we arrive in a great val- ley surrounded by proud and lofty mountains, in which sli;i!l be fertility, great beauty of growing thing?, and broad liik» s of clear sweet waters. From one of these lakes an vapa shall rise on his strong wings towards the God whom we worship, with a serpent's neck .n his beak and his lower p^rt in liis claw." This was to be the sign that they should wan- der no farther, should build a city among the Lakes, should live there prosperously a certain number of years, at the end af which a peor.le whiter th.^n themselves should come and conquer them, and that they should never ufterward be enabled to obtain their independence. Believing in this pro* I TRAVELS N THE C A L I F R N I A S. 32.T phecy, they saw their towns on the Jila tumble inlo ruins, and travelled soivihward, building others, and leaving them, until they arrived in the charming valley of Mexico, where they found the lakes, and mountains, and fertility — saw ihc eagle and the serpent, founded the c.cy, and at tliu precise lime indicated by their prophet weie conquered by the Spa- niards, Poor Indians ! Too true was the augury. You now believe that perpetual subserviency is the lot assigned you ijy the decrees of Heaven, and when you pray before the altar of the true God, you still believe that your ancient sage sp^^ke unwittingly the ordinance of the Most High. Break your chains ! Pour out again the heart's blood of the Children of the Sun, as you rli:; when Montezuma leil out your hosts to the battles of freedom ! Gird on the armor of human rights, and drive from your hearths the tyrants that call you free, and scourge you to the work of slaves ! But let us return to our geography of the Californias, The Timpanigos or Utaw liake, sometimes erroneously called Lake Bonneville, and other names which writers adopt in order to pay a compliment to persons who never saw it, is the largest sheet oi salt water in America, which has no ap- parent communication with the sea. Its length and breadth, and the quality of its waters, are fully described in my work of " Travels in the Great Western Prairies, &c., ' to which I would refer the reader for some interesting particulars in re- gard to it. I will merely idd in this place, that it lies between I/.t. 40^^ and 43° N., and Long. 36° and 37° W. from Wash- incrton. On the east, southeast, and southern sides of this I .ke there are clusters ( •" maintains of considerable height, partially covered with trees, and the large island in the same is said to be inha'^ited. The Timpanigos Desert is the largest in North America It extends north and south from the Snowy Mountain range, iti Latitude 40° N., to the Color. ido, and east and west from Lake Timpanigos, to the mountains which form the eastern boundary of the valley of the San Joaquira ; between four ,ll f i \m ., i'\ 324 iCENi: S IN THE PACIFIC. and five hundred miles square, of sandy and hardpan waste . Little is known of the central parts of this desert. The old trapper who explored Severe River, saw a part of it. All its borders have been traversed more or less. The Indians, how- ever, give accounts of its whole surface. They say that during their ancient wars, unsuccessful parties were driven into its depths and perished for want of water and food, and that those who pursued them often met the same fate. Their le- gends and their own knowledge lead them to affirm that it is one entire desolation, with an occasional spot of green herbs growing by pools of salt and bitter waters. Captain Young, whom I met in Oregon, made an attempt to cross from Lake Timpanigos to Upper California. His supposition was, that by travelling eastward, he should strike the Severe River at some point where it rose from the sands, and following its course, should be led to the bay of San Fran- cisco. He therefore loaded twenty mules with dried grass at the mountains south of the lake, and with twenty men, and a scanty supply of dried meat, commenced his journey on foot over four hundred miles of desert ! The sequel of this under- taking of the gallant old beaver trader, was, that h-ving travelled until his animals had exhausted their supply of fod- der, and had all died, he cut food from their carcasses for himself and men, and commenced his return to the lake. On their backward way five of his men perished. The captain and the remainder reached the lake in a wretched condition. This was the last attempt to explore this awful waste. And long will it be, ere man can know the silent gloom and hor- rors of its dreadful depths. On the northwest side of this Desert is a partinlly fruitful region, called the Vale of Mary's River. This stream has its source in the Snowy Mountains, about three hundred miles from the Pacific Ocean, and, running sonthwestwardly about one hundred and sixty miles, empties into its own iake This lake is about sixty miles in length, N, and S , ard about thirty in breadth. It has received so much sediment from the J [;:!l The Raven.—?. 325. Tl» /\:ira.:..-i\ :.;:5. * (''"i TRAVELS IN THE CALIFOaNIAS. 325 tturrounding highlands that it is chiefly filled with mud, form- ing a series of swamps, covered with hassocks, and of lakes with muddy bottoms. This whole valley is quite unpropitious to agriculture The soil appears to be sufficiently rich for such purposes, but the high mountains toward the sea arrest the clouds as they come up from the southwest during the season of rain, and thus prevent the deposit of sufficient moisture to sustain much vegetation. There are, however, some pretty groves of aspen and pme to be found along the stream and in the hills, among which live a few red deer and elk. The stream itself is stocked with crawfish, chub, and trout ; and on its surface swim countless flocks of ducks, brant, and geese, with an oc- casional pelican. On the hill tops may be seen the eagle, the magpie, the buzzard, the raven, and the crow. A few fertile spots upon the banks are peopled by a portion of the Paiuches or Root Diggers ; a filthy tribp, the prey of idleness and ver- min. This valley contains large tracts of wild grass, which will be valuable in coming years to those who shall travel with caravans from San Francisco to the States. Bat the valley of Mary's River can never become an agricultural dis- trict. It may be occupied by a small community of pastoral people, who shall ensconce themselves among the surround- ing mountains, and lead out flocks and herds to feed on the wild herbage. Its chief value, however, will be derived from its being on the best route between the States and t^ Pacific Ocean ' 47 CHAPTER XVIII. >' ■■'- it • Rio San Joaquim and Valley. — Rio Sacramento and Valley. Rio San .Toaquim. — The most interesting portion of Upper California in many respects, is the upper or northern, em- bracing the Bay of San Francisco, its tributaries, the Sacra- mento, San Joaquim, and Jesus Maria rivers, and the country bordering on these waters. The Rio San Joaquim rises in a lake called Buenavfsta, situated in Latitude 36° N., and about three hundred miles northwest of the mouth of the Colorado ; and running in a northwesterly course nearly six hundred miles, falls into tide- waters at the eastern extremity of the Bay of San Francisco. This stream has a deep and tranquil current. Its waters are transparent and well stocked with sahnon and other fish. It is navigable for small steamboats, about two hundred and fifly miles. A high range of mountains on the northeast, at an average distance of forty miles from the river, bounds its valley in that direction : and a range of hills, rather low, in the north, but becoming lofty in the south, bounds it on the west, forming a prairie vale six hundred miles in length ; nowhere less than forty, and often more than one hundred, miles in width. This vast plain extends indeed with little interruption, from the Bay of San Francisco to the Colorado, gradually growing wider and wider, and more uneven in its surface, till it reaches that river. A space sufficient fo/ an empire ! A very large proportion of its surface is open prai- rie, covered with grasses and a species of wild oats. But it is so diversified by lines of trees skirting ♦he streams, by wooded spots, standing out like islands on the green plain, by arms of tia^r stretching far down from the mountain sides, and i \$ j The Elk.-^P. 327. I The Dcer.—V. 327. II' I ill I i J! in 'IK,. H :■.."' TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIA 8. 327 by extensive circular groves, connected with larger forests by a tbin fringe of trees — that the valley presents the appearance of a vast series of plains of every conceivable area and shape, from the little wood-bound plantation, to the township, the coun- ty, and the state. Over this immense plain rove innumerable bands of wild horses, mules, elk, deer, grisly bears and other animals. The portion of the valley within twenty miles of the river is wholly uninhabited. The Indians do not feel disposed to live there ; and the whites have plenty of room on the coast There are large tracts of excellent tillage lands on the banks of the San Joaquim, and in the valleys of several beautiful tributaries coming into it from the eastern mountains ; particu- larly in that of the Merced. But, generally, the valley of the San Joaquim will be found unsuitable for cultivation. Its soil is manifestly of volcanic formation, and filled with elements unfriendly to vegetation. On many extensive tracts the mu- riate of soda covers the ground like frost, and destroys, with equal certainty, every green thing ; while other tracts, larger still, abound in asphaltum, which renders the soil too compact for tillage. These peculiarities, however, attach only to the plains. The uneven lands of the great valley, and of the smaller ones of the tributaries, and, indeed, all the swells, hills, and vales, that lie about the two ranges which bound the valley on the east and west, are sufficiently freed firom these destructive ingredients by the wintry rains which wash them down to the plains below. The face of the country among these highlands ii very beautiful, the soil rich and heavily timbered ; and dhmve them rise the mountains bearing on their sides forests of red tedar trees, from one to twelve feet in diameter and of proportiokial height. These grow to the northward of the Latitude of San Antonio. Thence south- ward flourishes a species of white pine, of larger girth, loftier, and of finer grain, than can be found in the States. But of the central and flat portions of the valley I cannot speak so well. It contains indeed every variety of soil — as tracts of loose sand, hard-pan, gravel, rich loam, and ponds of salt, 328 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. ':\ t' ^. =' ' 'i bitter, and fresh water. Most of the lakes, however, belong to the latter class ; and the larger part of the soil furnishes pasturage. There arc very many swamps or marshes here filled with tuleSf a large rush, ten or twelve feet high, and from one to two inches in diameter, having a bulbous and branched root, eight or ten inches long, and six or eight in diameter. Willows, bushes, and a few shrubs of different species, grow over the plains. The cotton-wood is the only large tree found in the vicinity of the river. The climate of this valley is its greatest misfortune. The wet season extends from November to March — five months of the year. During this period it rains without cessation for many days and even weeks, and the low country being very flat, becomes a vast assemblage of lakes. In the month of April the dry season begins, and save the heavy dews, there is nothing to moisten the earth for seven long, burning months. Mr. Kelly, an American gentleman, of great intelligence and enterprise, who travelled over this country at an early day, remarks, that " in crossing the prairies in Latitude 28^ CO , N., during the month of August, I founu that for several suc- cessive days the mercury ranged at 110° (Fahrenheit), in the shade, and sealing-wax, deposited in one of my boxes, was converted into an almost semi-fluid state." This intense heat poured down so many months upon the submerged prairies, evaporates the water as the time advances, and converts the lakes formed in the wet season into stagnant pools of putrid water, which send out most pestilential exhalations, convt. ing this immense valley into n field of death. But this evil can be remedied. The San Joaquim lies so low as to allow these lakes to be drained into it. When therefore the country shall be properly ditched, the waters will not only flow off, but will bear with them much of thosfi destructive salts which are now deposited upon the soil. And thus, I be- Heve, the valley of the San Joaquim will become the abode of a dense population, the products of whose industry will float Tht mid Horse.— P. 329 The .flvtelope.—V. :J29, ^^^ ■,% ^, IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) «* e he Californias — Agricultural Capabilities — Condition and Wealth of the Californias. The Jesus Maria River is a small stream which rises at the distance of twenty miles from the Ocean, among that part of the Snowy Mountains immediately southwest of Cape Mendocino. Its head-springs are among the perpetual snows of those highlands ; and flowing about three hundred miles, over precipices- and through prairies, it falls into the north- west part of the Bay San Francisco. This stream, in its upper course, runs among barren rocks till its rivulets gather into a current of some magnitude, when it enters a forest region of pines, cedars, and other terebinthine trees, and lower down is bordered by oaks of various species, chestnut, hickory, walnut, oak, and plane trees. This region, embracing the wide tract between the Sacra- mento valley and the sea, and between the Bay San Fran- cisco and the Snowy Mountains, is not less desirable than the country on the Sacramento. It is, however, very different Instead of six or seven hundred miles of continuous plains and forests, with mighty streams, coursing down to a common outlet, it is a country of hills and plains, rising one above another northwardly, from the sweet prairies at the Bay to the bare and lofty mountains in Latitude 40° N. The portion in the vicinity of the Bay, forty miles square, is chiefly prairie, broken by lines of forest and woody ridges ; the next forty miles northward, and of a like width, consists princi- pally of extensive plains covered with various kin* " of timber and high precipitous hills, clad with forests of white pines, whose trunks vary from nine to fifty feet in circumference, and from one to nearly three hundred feet in height, hanging I <• '41 1 iff) m ildlr 1 515: ('PV-^i 1 .M " i] i' -I 111 •■ i ^^1,; r- 336 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. over little flowering prairies, among the groves on the low- lands; noble columns of nature's architecture, supporting cone-formed capitals of growing, living green ! A land of the wildest enchantment ! The hooting owl and the cuckoo are there at midnight, and the little birds twitter to the bab- bling rivulets of the vales. Far reaching away to the north are piled the naked cold summits of the Snowy ridge. This is a vast slope of excellent land, which will, when subdued, equal any other in the world. The great Bay of San Fran- cisco on the south, and the Bay of Bodega and the Ocean on the west, give it a position as a farming and commercial dis- trict which is scarcely surpassed by the valley of the Clamet, or of the San Joaquim and Sacramento. Stretching across the north of these splendid regions are the Snowy Mountains. This range of highlands forms a natural boundary between the Californias and Oregon. But the Ignorance of our negotiators with Spain, or their criminal neglect of duty, gave us the parallel of 42^ N., instead of this noble barrier of craggy ice and snow. Consequently the Californias extend beyond these mountains, and embrace the valley which lies between the Snowy range and a spur of the President's range, which puts out westward from Mount J. Q. Adams, in Latitude 42^ 10'. The average height of these hills is about 2700 feet above the sea. This vale i^ about fifty miles wide and one hundred in length. The Clamet river v/aters it. This stream has two principal sources ; the one among the snows of Mount Monroe, in Latitude 43*^ 20' and about one hundred miles from the sea ; the other in a beautiful mountain-lake, with a surface of about two hundred square miles, lying further south. Both these branches are furious mountain torrents, tumbling down lofty acclivities, into little valleys, where they run a few miles with a compa- ratively peaceful current, and then dash and roar again over another precipice ; and so continue till they reach their con- fluence. Thence the Clamet moves on with a heavy whirling flood until within thirty miles of the sea, where it breala f'\ 49 ifui I ,♦ k ti-\i<%-l TRAVELS IN 'I il K C A L 1 K U It N I A S. 337 tuinultuously through a range of high hills, and mcetJ tide- water ; and thence proceeds in a northwesterly direction to the Ocean. Tlie aspect of the country lying on this stream is singularly charming. The mountain sides on the south rise gradually, and on one-third of their elevation are clothed with forests of pine, cedar, and other evergreens. The overtopping peaks shine with drifting snows. The highlands on the north are generally covered by trees, with rugged o- .)gs beetling out over their tops ; and, at intervals, conical peaks arise, in some instances, in clusters, and in others, in solitary magnifi- cence, over the lower hills. These peaks are frequently ver}' beautiful. Their form is that of the frustum of a cone ; around their bases are green forests; on their sides hangs the dwarf cedar ti< e, pendant in the air; on their very top, in the cold season, is a cap of snow ; and down their steep sides murmur little brooks. The largest of these peaks lie, however, to the eastward, in the President's range. The most conspicuous of these is Mount Jackson, in Latitude 41^ 40' N. This is the highest elevation in the range to which It belongs — rising nearly seventeen thousand feet above the Ocean, in great abruptness, grandeur, and beauty of outline. Its base rests among deep evergreen woods ; and it is girdled higher up with shrubs and hardy plants, to the region of frosts ; and there commence the sheeting snows which spread wide and high its vast head with the desolation of eternal cold. The pathway between Oregon and the Californias paF^es near it. The valley itself is a rolling, irregular, inclined plane, broken by forests and isolated hills. The latter spring often- times in the midst of the prairies, like immense haystacks, several hundred feet high, some in clusters, and others soli- lary. These sometimes occur in the Ibrests; and, in such cases, they are often castellated with basaltic rocks, presenting the appearance of ruined castles. The trees of the Clamit Valley consist principally of the same various species of the oak which grow on the other side of the Snowy ridge. nil ii S'"'I ml: >^|;;t la"* !^ mii ti\¥ ^, 338 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. There is one tree here also in great abundance, whicli does not prevail on any other part of the northwest coast : a spe- cies of Myrtiis — the largest of which measure twelve feet in girth, and one hundred feet in height. All its leaves, wood and fruit, are strongly aromatic, yielding an odor like Myrtus Pimento* and producing sneezing like pepper. The fruit is large, globular, and covered with a fine green skin, enveloping a small nut with an insipid kernel, which the squirrel eats with a groat relish. So fragrant is this tree, that, when the groves are moved by the wind, a delicious perfume fills all the surround- ing air. The soil on the open plains of this delightful vale is very rich ; and, since the climate is most salubrious, as well as most favorable to vegetation, this valley will hereafter become one of the most enchanting abodes of man. Indeed, it would be difficult to decide whether to prefer this or the vales on the south side of the Snowy Mountains, were it not for that un- rivalled Bay of San Francisco, which connects the land, whose streams flow into it, with the commerce of the world more largely and intimately than the Clamet can do. In fact this river is both too rapid and too small for ship navigation ; and the depth of the water on the bar at its mouth being only two and a half fathoms, it will, of course, never furnish a harbor suitable for extensive maritime trade. But it is a sweet valley for the growth of a happy and enlightened population ; a lovely spot where the farm-house, that temple of the virtues, may lift its rude chimney among the myrrh trees ; where the wife, faith- ful in her love to her husband, and irue to all the holy instincts of the mother, shall offer her pure heart's undivided devotion at the altar of Home ! Home ! that only refuge of man from the toils and pains of the outer world ; that sanctuary, the desecration of which turns his heart to flint, and his affections mto fountains of gall. The Valley of the Clamet will be lighted from the hearths of happy homes ere long, and will be densely peopled. * Douglas, TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIA S. 339 Sixty miles square of productive soil, surrounded with every beauty of mountain and forest, sprinkled with sweet groves, and threaded with streams of pure water, all under a genial dimate, render it a magnificent site for the dwellings of man. As we pass southward in our geographical view of the Californias we find remaining to be described, that belt of country extending from the Bay of San Francisco in Latitude 37^ N. to the port of San Diego, in Latitude 32^ N,, and bounded east by the marine range of mountains, and w^est by the Ocean. It is three hundred and fifty miles long, and from fifteen to forty miles wide. , The general aspect of this region is that of an open country, varied by patches of trees of noble growth, and with lines of the same along the streams. The northern half of it consists of rolling alluvial plains without rock or stone, traversed by low mountains of porphyry, basalt, and jasper, partially cov- ered with pine, cedar, and oak forests. The plains bi tween these highlands are well watered, and of a rich, enduringsoil The southern half of the region is somewhat more broken by the mountains ; and is not so well supplied with trees and streams. But there are mamy very large tracts of rich plains, covered by forests of live oak and other valuable trees ; and numerous broad prairies, with a pliable and inexhaustible' soil. Perhaps I ought to say that this is, indeed, the most valuable part of the Californias, and true it is, that this belt of country, lying between the Latitudes thus named, is the crowning glory of Upper California, as will appear on coming pages. Climate.— For the space of seventy-five miles northward from the Cape San Lucas, the air is moistened by the vapors of the sea and the exhalations from many parts of the ground. The earth is watered by numerous little currents running among the hills, and clothed with tropical vegetation. From this point, seventy-five miles north of the Cape, to the Latitude of Loretto, are high craggy mountains and a barren soil, the mere cinders of volcanic action. On account of the increased 340 SCRNES IN TICE PACIFIC distance of the interior from the sea and the Gulf, and the ab- sence of streams of water, the heat is excessive ; as great as in Arabia, or Sahara. A few sunken vales separated from one another and the world, by vast tracts of burnt heights, enjoy the cooling influences of shady trees and springs of water. And along the coast, the sea breezes and some small streams bursting from the barren mountains, give some humidity to the atmosphere in several places, and scent it with vegetation. But these are only unimportant qualifying circumstances to the general fact, that the sun heats that lofty belt so fiercely that vegetation refuses to grow, and water to run, it is so soon swallowed by the thirsty earth or evaporated by the parched air. From the Latitude of Loretto to the Latitude of San Diego, 33° N., the air becomes milder. In the mountains, although they are not so high and rugged as those farther south, the temperature is sometimes so low in winter as to pro- duce frost ; and on the coast, there is an increase of humidi- ty. Between the mouth of the Colorado and the Pacific, there is a region of very delightful climate. The mountains increase in height, and among them are many beautiful plains, watered with abundant springs and brooks, and interspersed with many pleasant woodlands — which together render the air charming- ly temperate. In the country between the Gila and the Colorado, there is a great variety of temperature. From the junction of the two rivers, for the distance of 200 miles up the Colorado, and about one hundred up the Gila, the climate is exceedingly hot in summer, and in winter rather frosty. The generally sandy and barren soil, and a vertical sun, produce the one, and the contiguity of frozen mountains the other. The valley of the great Salt Lake is very hot and dry. Some few small streams and the partially fertile tracts lying on their banks, and the neigh- borhood of the Snowy Mountains, and the vegetation at their bases in the south-west, modify this description somewhat ; but generally this great basin of former volcanic fires has a dry and sultry climate. TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIA S. 341 The Valley of the San Joaquim and its extension toward the head of the Gulf of California is exceedingly hot and sultry. The Marine range on the west effectually prevents the sea breezes fromreaching it ; and if any other winds are active, the monotonous level oft):o northern portion, the short sharp sand hills of the southern, and the long lines of wood which encircle the prairies and fringe the streams, prevent their circulation, and produce there, in a high northern Latitude, all the heat and consequent discomforts of the torrid zone. The climate of the Valley of the Sacramento is exceedingly various. Near the mouth of that stream, and northward eighty miles to the forks, the heat of the summer sun is in- tense ; but is much modified by occasional showers, and the humid breezes from the Bay of San Francisco. Higher up among the narrow prairies, along the banks of both forks and their tributaries, the dashing of cascades, the shading influences of lofty and wooded mountains, and the rich carpet- ing of a luxuriant vegetation, produce a temperature, than which a more desirable cannot be found in any country. An incomparably fine soil, nestled in long and delicately curved lines among scenery of the wildest mountain cast, with water from the overlooking snows and glaciers, and fanned by air which can claim kindred with that of Italy or Greece, is a collection of excellences which are found, I believe, on that spot alone in North America. The climate of the territory lying between that just described and the sea, and for forty miles around the Bay of San Francisco, is equally fine, with the exception that heavy fogs press up from the Bay and the Pacific during a portion of the summer months. But this is to be deemed rather a good than an evil ; for moisture is thereby distilled over the thirsty ground during the dry sea- son ; and the breezes which bear it over the land, come freighted with the cooler atmosphere of tiie sea, to temper the air, and render it more healthful and agreeable. -he climate of that portion of the Californias which lies bctwcc"" 'lie Marine range and the sea, has called forth ex- 342 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. pressions of admiration from every traveller in the country since it was discovered. But in order to give a clear idea of it, we will speak of it in detail. The intense heat of summer begins in the month of June, when every leaf of herbage south of Monterey is dried to a cinder. The fogs generally moisten the coast to the north, and keep it green. On the coast south of Monterey, the thermometer some- times rises to 108^ or 110° Fahrenheit, in still summer wea- ther ; but usually the sea-breezes keep it down to 70^ and 75°. North of Monterey, the fogs always accompany the hottest weather, and modify its temperature. Some few points on this coast are visited by disagreeable sea winds. But these places are small and few in number. And yet this is doubtless as fine a climate as can be found. Nc causes of disease exist here. Agriculture. — The agriculture of Upper California is as yet confined to the region lying between the Marine range and the sea, and is chiefly carried on by the converted Indians at the Missions. And when we inform the reader that the mode of cultivation has not changed since the first settlement of the country, its rude and unskilful character will be easily understood. A few statements, however, may make it more manifest. When a field is brought under the plough, it is planted with the same crop, as oats, or wheat, &c,, until it is exhausted ; and then permitted to lie waste, until it acquires the power to produce the same crop again. Alternation of crops is deemed a heresy always to be avoided. The grains raised in the Californias, are maize (Indian corn), oats, wheat, and barley. Peas, and a small bean called frixoh, are also cultivated. Maize is the staple bread corn of the country. It is cultivated in drills, and, even with the little skill used in raising it, produces abundantly. Wheat is sown broad-cast as with us ; and, strange to tell, such is the loose and rich quality of the soil, that the seed which falls at the harvesting of the first crop, yields without the aid of plough or harrow two-thirds of a crop the second season, and TRAVELS IN THE CALIPCRNIAS. 343 half a crop the third. My friend Dr. Marsh, a resident on the banks of the Rio Sacramento, and intimately acquainted with the Californias for the last fifteen years, writes the au- thor thus : " The southern parts of Upper California are generally too dry and warm for the successful cultivation of wheat ; tolerable crops, however, are raised. But from Mon- terey northward, and particularly in the vicinity of San Fran- cisco's Bay, most extraordinary crops are raised with very negligent cultivation. It is not uncommon to make two, three, and even five crops from only once sowing. The average annual yield is from thirty to fifty bushels from one of seed sown. In one particular instance, in which something more than ordinary care was used, and of which I was an eye-witness, from ten bushels sown, three thousand six hun- dred and fifty-two bushels were harvested." Barley and oats, the latter more especially, since their introduction, have spread very widely over the plains, and are now seen everywhere growing without culture most luxuriantly, and in immense tracts. Maize returns about one hundred and fifty-fold. In Lower California, these grains can be raised only in localities which can be irrigated. In 1839, the harvested crops of grains in Upper California amounted to 69,000 bushels of wheat, 22,000 of maize, 3,000 oi frixoles, 15,000 of barley, 700 of peas. When an intellectual and industrious race shall plough that soil, and harvest its generous crops, the Californias will become the granary of Western America. The Irish and the sweet potato have been introduced by American settlers, and thrive remarkably well. Cabbages, turnips, and other garden vegetables have not yet been tested. But no doubt can be entertained that these would grow as well as any other plants. Hemp and flax have been tried, and prove congenial to the climate and soil. But the grape will undoubtedly be the great staple product of the Californias. It is now considerably cultivated. On this subject my intelligent friend Dr. Marsh writes thus : 50 344 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. " Nearly the whole of the Californias is well adapted to the cultivation of the vine. I have been assured by Mons. Louis Vignes, a native of Bordeaux, France, that the soil and cli- mate of California are superior to any part of France for this kind of culture. The competency of this gentleman to decide on the subject is most satisfactorily proven by the large for- tune he has made at this same business here in the short pe- riod of six years ; although his vineyard has not yet come to maturity. The olive-tree also flourishes exceedingly well. Figs, lemons, and oranges, are common south of Monterey, and produce abundantly all the year. North of that point, figs are very productive and excellent — but we get only one crop a year. Cotton and tobacco also thrive finely." Rice may be raised in untold quantities about the waters of the San Joaquim and Sacramento. The immense fresh water marshes about the mouths of these streams are capable of being turned into fields for the production of this grain, at very triflin:g expense. Indeed, it may be confidently asserted, that no country in the world possesses so fine a climate, cou- pled with so productive a soil, as the sea-board portion of the Californias, including the territory on the Bay of San Fran- cisco, and the Rivers San Joaquim and Sacramento. But its miserable people live unconscious of these things. In their gardens grow the apple, the pear, the olive, fig, and orange, the Irish and sweet potato, the yam and plantain most luxuriantly, side by side ; and yet they sleep, and smoke, and hum some tune of Castilian laziness, while surrounding Na- ture is thus inviting them to the noblest and richest rewards of honorable toil. But this idleness notwithstanding, the Californians are rich ; rich, in the most luxuriant wild pastures, and the cattle, mules, horses, and wild animals that feed upon them. The immense number of these animals in the time of prosperity among the Missions, may be gathered from another extract from Dr. Marsh's letter • " Some of the Missions were for- merly possessed of great wealth. For several years during TRAVELS IN THE CALlFORNIAS. 345 the civil wars of the Mexican Revolution, no vessels of any kind visited this coast, and both the Missions and private fami- lies were obliged to rely entirely on their own resources for supplies of every kind. And when the ships of Boston, after the wars had ceased, began to visit these shores again, for hides and tallow, such quantities of these articles had accu- mulated, that the single Mission of San Gabriel purchased several successive cargoes of cloths and groceries, at about one hundred thousand dollars each, and paid for them in hides and tallow. This Mission at that time possessed over one hundred thousand head of neat cattle, and great numbers of horses and sheep. The vineyards produced between two and three hundred barrels of brandy annually, and wine enough for the consumption of the Mission, and for the purposes of the unbounded hospitality which then pervaded those estab* lishments. " The Indian population of the Mission at that period was three or four thousands. At present it is from one to two hundreds, and the flocks and herds are hardly sufficient to support them. The same remark will apply, with little vari- ation, to all the Missions of the Californias. They are mere skeletons of what they formerly were. San Josef is the only exception. This still has a population of about fourteen hun- dred souls, twenty-five thousands of black cattle, nearly the same number of sheep, and considerable bands of horses, mules, &c." Thp Doctor further remarks : " These Missions were the first establishments of the Spaniards on this coast. Those in Upper California were begun in 1776 by the Franciscan Missionaries, assisted by a few troops sent by the Viceroy of Mexico. After some progress had been made in taming and teaching the native savage population, mechanics and artisans were sent to assist in rearing those noble structures which are now seen on most of the Mission premises. Awhile after- wards two companies of young married men, with their fami- lies, were sent up from Senora, who performed the double 346 SCENES IN THE PACirlC. duty of soldiers for the protection of the Missionaries, and the founders of a new colony. The first missionaries were men of great piety, benevolence, patience, and perseverance. It cannot fail to excite the wonder of any one at all acquainted with the indolence and fickleness of the Californian Indians, to behold the immense amount of labor, agricultural and me- chanical, which has been performed by them under the mild and paternal government of those monks. Every mission was a thriving and happy community until the Mexican Revolu- tion drove the Padres from the country, and commenced that work of ruin which has laid them in the dust." While the Missions were being destroyed in the manner shown on previous pages, the plantations of individuals some- what increased in number and extent. So that, although the number of domestic animals and the agricultural wealth, generally, was greatly reduced by the destruction of the Mis- sions, there is no v believed to be in the country about 1,000,000 black cattle, 500,000 horses, 420,000 sheep, 3000 mules, 3000 goats, and 2000 swine. These animals roam on the unfenced plains and hills, and are never an object of care to the owners, except when they desire to brand, butcher, or sell them. The swine are seldom used for any other purpose than for making lard and soap. The sheep are raised for the wool only ; the goats are used for milk ; the mules for draught ; the horses for riding only ; but those required for such purposes form a very small pro- portion of the whole number reared. Immense herds of these animals live in a wild state in the neighborhood of the settle- ments, and often become so numerous as to render it neces- sary to destroy them in great numbers in order to preserve the grass for the cattle. I was credibly informed that fifteen thousand of these noble animals perished thus in one year, on a single hacienda. The mode of making legal title to animals in the Califor- nias may not be uninteresting. I will give the reader a short account of it furnished me by my excellent friend, Dr. Lyman. TRAVELS IN THF, CALIFOIINIAS. 34/ " Early in the autumn, a rodea is appointed by the rancheros (farmers), to unite in collecting their cattle together for the purpose of deciding to whom they belong. At this meeting, all the cattle of the settlement are gathered into immense carols or pens, and the ears of each cow having been marked by a peculiar cut, called seiial, ownership of the calf follow- ing her, is easily made apparent, by placing a similar sefial on its ear. It is not considered safe to brand the calf with a hot iron till it is a year old, and the reason of putting on the senal, is that the owner may know his calf in case it is weaned before it is a year old. In the spring, yearling calves are collected by an appointed rodea of cattle. The owners of the calves recognizing them by the serial, separate them, and brand with a hot iron the owner's hierro, or legal mark, on the hip. Every stock-breeder has three marks for his cattle, each of which must be recorded at the Alcalde's office, and a fac-simile of it placed on the books, which ren- ders it legal. No two persons can have the same marks. Forging of the mark is severely punished. Afterwards, when- ever a sale is made of either a live animal or a hide, it is not legal unless the owner brands the animal or hide on the shoulder, with a smaller iron than the hierro, which is called the * ventaj indicating sale. If a person buys an animal or hide without having it first branded with the 'venta,* the former owner, if inclined to be rascally, can reclaim his property." ii =^'f» .1*1 'A' CHAPTER XX. Los Presidios. — Los Missiones. — Los Pueblos. — Harbors,— Inhabit* ants. — Meztizos. — Whites. The Presidios of the Californias arc fortresses occupied by a few troops under the command of a military prefect. These posts were originally established for several purposes ; one was, the national occupancy of the country ; another, the pro- tection of the Missions against the insurrections of the Indians gathered in them, and the incursions of the wild tribes on their borders ; and still another was, to serve as receptacles for the royal revenue which was expected to arise from the Mission plantations, and the pearl fisheries. In early times, the commandants of these Presidics were under the absolute control of the Padres. The Padre President, or bishop of each of these provinces, was the civil, military, and religious prefect, the supreme governor of the people in his bishopric. The commandant of each Presidio was therefore uncondition- ally subject to his orders ; and the Padres of each Mission constituted a council of Government, subordinate to the Padre President, over the Indians and other persons connected with the particular station to which they belonged, whether they resided at the Mission or in towns, within its assigned juris- diction. In the progress of time, four of these posts were established in Upper California ; El Presidio San Diego, situ- ate on the coast in Latitude 32^ N., having under its protec- tion the Missions of San Diegv>; San Louis Rey, San Juan Capistrano, and San Gabriel ; and the Presidio Santa Bar- bara, situate on the Canal de Santa Barbara, Latitude 36^ 35 N., having within its jurisdiction the Missions Santa Barbara, San Fernando, San Buenaventura, Santa Inez, and La Puris- sima, and the town of £1 Puebla de los Angelos ; the Presidio =3=^ft TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIA S. 349 of Monterey, situate on Monterey Bay, Latitude 36° N , em- bracing the Missions, San Louis Obispo, San Miguel, San Antonio, Nuestra Senora de la Solidad, San Carlos, San Juan Bautista, the Pueblo of Monterey, and the villa of Brauciforte j the Presidio de San Francisco, situate on the San Francisco Bay, Latitude 37° N., having under its jurisdiction the Mis sions Santa Cruz, San Jose, Santa Clara, San Francisco, San Rafael, San Francisco Solana, and the Pueblos, Yerba Buena and San Jos6 de Gufdelupe. The structures of these Presidios consist of walls of unburnt brick, twelve feet in height, enclosing an area of about one thousand square yards, within which are the house of the Commandante^ and the barracks of the troops. At a short distance from the Presidios are what are called castillos, the forts, where the cannon, powder-house, &c., are situated. Within four or five leagues of the Presidios are certain farms called ranchios, which were assigned for the use of the garrisons, and as depositories of the cattle and grain which the crown was expecting to receive, as taxes from the Missions. Each of these Missions had allotted to it by the old Spanish Government fifteen square miles of ground ; and the priests having the right of choosing the sites, selected the very best soil, and in other respects the finest locations in the country. On these have been erected buildings of various plans and sizes, according to the taste of the priests and the number of Indians to be accommodated. Some are built around a square ; the buildings themselves forming an enclosing wall on three sides, and a wall and gateway su[)plying the other side : the church, the priest's house, and Indian dwellings, workshops, granaries, and prisons, all fronting upon the enclosed area. Others are surrounded by a high wall ; others are built on the open plain, the church in the centre, and the Indian huts leading off from it in rows, forming streets. And still others have the church, the granaries, magazines, jail, &c , enclosed I;' ■ l IIHI 1'" L^i 350 SCENES IN THE rACiyiC. with a wall, while the huts of the Indians stand unprotected outside. They are generally constructed of large unburnt bricks, and roofed with tiles. Some of the churches and priests' houses are of stone ; and being whitewashed by way of pre- eminence among the Indian dwellings, make an imposing appearance upon the lofty hills, on the borders of the sea, or the rich spreading plains among the green highlands. Each of the establishments is design»i^ to have two priests. This intention, however, is not always carried out. More commonly one priest, with his major-domo, and several sub- ordinate ofTicers to overlook the labor of the Indians, consti- tute the official court of a Mission. The married Indians, and the officers and priests of the Missions, occupy houses. The unmarried Indians of all af^es are put into large rooms at night, which are well grated and locked, to prevent them from escaping to the wilderness and their former habits of life. The unmarried females and males thus imprisoned in their separate apartments at night, and kept separate at their duties during the day, never associate much together until they are married. This is deemed neces- sary to preserve their virtue. The churches of these missions are well supplied with the paraphernalia of the Roman Catholic worship, the altar, the receptacle of the host, the censer, the cross, the images of the Saviouf and the Saints, pictures of Paradise and Hell. These, the costly dresses of the priests, and the imposing processions and ceiemonies of the church, were well calcu- lated to arrest the attention of those most stupid of all the North American Indians ; and give them their first impulses toward the paths of moral virtue. The religious exercises of the Missions are those common to Catholic churches throughout the world. Morning and evening Mass; the commemoration of the Patron Saints; High Mass on extraordinary occasions ; religious processions on Corpus Christi and other great festal occasions ; at which times the T a A V E I. 8 r N T U K ( A I, I F (• U N I A S. 351 young Iiuliiin girls aro ilressod in scnilet skirts and white bodices, or other colors suitable to the occasion. Every In dian, male and female, is obliged to attend the worship ; and if they lag behind, a large leaihern thong, at the end of a heavy whip-stafl', is applied to their naked backs, that the pain of disobedience may be contrasted with the pleasures of the opposite course. In church, the males and females occupy different sides, with a broa■ :••" l'.*" *: M '\%'- CHAPTER XXI. Indians— Their Habitations — Ornaments — Dress — Civil State — Food -Matrimony, &c. — Navigation — Warlike Implements — Hunting and Fowling — Religion — Mode of Burial, &c.— Medicine— Yohtas or Utaws — Nabajos — Paiuches, or Piutks. Indians. — ^The original inhabitants of Upper California are understood to belong to the same family of Indians, speaking the same language, and having essentially the same manners and customs. Indeed, the whole coast from Lat. 28° N., to 42^, together with the valley of the Sacramento, the San Joaquim, the Colorado, and the intermediate country, were peopled by the same race, who number at the present time not far from 40,000. The stature of tliese people varies with their habits. Those who live on fish and pass an idle filthy life along the Ocean shore, are about five feet and a half in height, and rather slender and feeble, while those who inhabit the great Talleys of the interior are taller and more robust. Their complexion is considerably darker than that of the Indians in Orego." a*^cl the States ; their lip«^ are large and projecting, and their noses broad and flat, like the negro ; the hair is black, coarse, and straight, and when left untrimtr.ed, reaches to the hips ; they usually cut it five or six inches from the head, and this length causes it to brist.'.e out in all directions, giving the head the semblance of a colc.^sal hairy caterpillar, coiled up on itself. Their heads are small and badly formed, the mass of brain lying back of the ears. The forehead is particularly contract- ed and low ; eyebrows and beard scanty. They have the habit common to all American Indians of extracting the beard and the hair of other parts of the body. Tattooing is one ot the arts of Ijeautifying themselves, which is more resorted to TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIA 8. 365 by women than men. Their wardrobe is very scanty. A wrapper of greater or less extent around the waist is their sole garment. To this is added in winter a rude outer covering of deer or otter skin. Sometimes they wear a garment which is made of feathers of the water-fowl, twisted into ropes and tied together closely, so as to give a downy surface on both sides. The females always have this or a rush cov- ering around the loins and usually over the shoulde:s ; the men are commonly naked. In addition to these, it may be mentioned, that in the colder hours of a winter day, they are in the habit of plastering themselves over with mud, to keep the cold out, which they wash off as the tempr rature rises. The Indians make a very rustic kind of habitation, some- thing like the dwelling of the Hottentots. The frame-work is formed of pliable poles, with their butts inserted into the ground, and drawn together at the top. These are inter- woven with brush, and thatched with bulrushes. The in- closed area is ten or twelve feet in diameter, and twelve or fifteen in height, having an opening at the side to admit its occupants, and a hole at the top to let out the smoke. Within each of these huts are commonly found eight or ten Indians oi both sexes, and all ages, nearly naked, squatting around a fire, and covered with a variety of vermin ; a spectacle of the extreme filth and wretchedness of the most pitiable savage condition. The furniture of these wigwams, the reader will naturally infer, is quite limited and primitive. A kind of box or chest, a bowl shaped like a high-crowned hat, a bone awl used in making it, a piece of touch-wood for kindling a fire, a small netting sack in which to put their fruit and seeds, another in the form of a bag to sling on the shoulders, for the purpose of carrying their infants when travelling, fishing-nets, bows, arrows, lances, and a sea-shell for dipping water to drink, make up the sum total of the furniture of an Indian house- keeper in Upper California. Ornaments are as much sought after by these as they arc In;' wi\n Hi .■JGtl S C G N I. S I N T n 1. till f. by the tribes farther North and Eiist. Lul the unfortunate creatures have little ability to devise ant! manufacture them. The more valuable found among them consist of pieces of carved wood worn as ear-rings, shells strung and worn as beads, and bands of feathers bound around the head. The latter are made of the tail feathers of the golden-winged woodpecker, and are very beautiful. Some of them contain four or five hundred feathers, and as only two can be obtained from one bird, it will be observed that the labor of gathering the materials of these bandeaux is so great as to make them highly prized by the natives. It is worthy of remark that bandeaux of a like kind are worn by the Hawaiians. Divided as they are into small tribes, a portion of their time is spent in fighting among them^«lves on account of encroach- ments upon each other's territories. Such occurri^nces are the ' most stirring and notable events of their lives. Their stu- pidity, insensibility, ignorance, inconstancy, slavery to appe- tite, excessive sloth and laziness, being absorbed fo^ -be time in the stir and din of night-watchings and baV' hem a new existence; not one creditable to human nature, but one that breaks the monotony of their beastly existence. On all other occasions, they seem to have no idea of industry, no rational and inventive thought, only one strong and controll- ing iropulse, the inc«;ssant love of arau nents ol" the most useless and br :al character. When want presses them into some means of sustainini;- life, they hunt the deer, elk, and grisly bear, take fish from the streams and the ocean, and gather wild fruits, acorns, seeds, herbs and roots. The seeds the;, bruise into meal, ol' which they make gruel, pudding, &c. Sometimes they make it into balls, and dry them for future use. With these vegeta- bles they eat fish, deer, elk, »"abbits, geese, ducks, quails, &c. ■^he whale occasionally lodges on their shores; an event followed by great rejoicings and feastings. The blubber is a great luxury among them. They cook the i\.^n of this ani- mal in holes dug in the ground and curbed up with stone like .■'»r__--;=.- T U A V E L R IN THE (' A 1, I r ft N I A S. 367 wells. Over this they build large fires, heat Ihera thoroughly, clean out the coals and ashes, fill them with whale flesh, cover the opening with sticks, leaves, grass and earth, and thus bake their repast. After gorging themselves, they hang the remainder of the whale upon the branches of the trees, away from the wolves and bears, and as hunger dictates cut down, roast and e-^t Next to the whale they prize the seal, which they cook and eat in a similar manner. These people have their forms of marriage. The matrimo- nial alliance formed, the suitor presents his lady love with a jug, in their language an olo, the acceptance of which denotes her consent; and she raak'^s her return by presenting him with a net, which reciprocation of testimonials confirms the marriage. Among some of the tribes, mutual consent of par- ties in the presence of the tribe at the end of a dance is the form. Parentage and other relations of consanguinity are no obstacles to matrimony. A man often marries a whole family, the mother and her daughters ; and it is rather remarkable in such cases that no jealousies ever appear among these families of wives. They seem to consider their offspring as the property of all, and the husband as their common protec- tor. It is not unusual even, to find such unions ac companied ' with the most devoted attachment, and old age comes on with their love unabated. In this also, they assimilate with the Hawaiians. And their custom in this connection is that women, immediately after delivery, having washed themselves in running water, go to the wood and return home ladcM with heavy burdens ; meanwhile the lazy husband lies at full length under the shade of a tree, aflLv. ng the pangs of labor, ex- treme illness and weakness. This farce continues three days. All their high festivals are kept during the ingathering of Pitahaga, when they give themselves up whole nights to tumultuous jollity. Their principa' entertainments are the acting of pnntomimic comedies, which their best players per- form with an astonishing degree of excellence. Extremely agile and graceful, they represent with vast accuracy by ges- 368 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. ticulation and dumb show, the different motions of fishing, hunting, war, marriage, and whatever else is most importan* among them. In passing from one place to another by land, they go on foot. On these journeys the women carry the furniture and do all the labor, except bearing and using the bows and arrows of their masters, and the flints, tinder, feathers and sin- ews, used in repairing them. The men bore holes in their ears to which they attach little boxes, in which these latter articles are secured. Their mode of navigation is perhaps the worst found among any people. The " Balsa" is the only thing of the boat kind known among them. It is constructed entirely of bulrushes. These they tie into bundles about ten feet in length, large in the middle and tapering to points at the ends. These bundles are lashed together in sufficient quantity to buoy up the required number of persons, more or less ; who flat upon the craft, soaked in water, plying their paddles, i iing pointed at each end, these craft are propelled either way with equal facility. In calm weather some of them float their upper surfaces above the water, but in stormy, and indeed most of them in all kinds of weather, are either below, or on a level with the water. These Indians also make baskets of the bark of trees, which they use in transporting water and in roasting their seeds and roots. This latter operation is done by the women over a brisk charcoal fire with such rapidity and skill, as thoroughly to parth the seeds without burning the baskets. Some of these baskets are very neatly ornamented with feathers Their bows and arrows exhibit considerable ingenuity. The former are from three to four and a ' Tfeet long — the wood part very well wrought, and the backs covered with the sinew of the deer, which gives them great elasticity and power. The arrows also are of the best form, with points of flint let into the wood, and secured by tendons. The Indians use these weapons with great effect. The smallest bird is killed with them. Their patience, cunning and skill combined, is per- -Ib 1 TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIAS. 369 haps best shown, however, in their manner of killing the deer, which will be described in a following page. Not less shrewd is their manner of catching the water-fowl. They erect for this purpose a long pole on each side of the .'iver, and attach to the one on the shore opposite themselves a large net of bulrushes so arranged as to be pulled across the stream at will — artificial ducks and geese, made of the bulrushes, are then set afloat, which acting as decoys entice the game toward the poles, when the Indians scare them up, and springing the net across the stream, arrest their flight p.nd tumble tham into a pouch in the net from which escape '£ impossible. Of their religion, it is known that they believe in the con- trol of good and evil spirits to whom they occasionally offer prayers. They have persons among them professing power ever thunder, lightning, rain, the movements of whales, &c. ; but they do not seem to be credited by the Indians, as seers, but rather as impostors having in view the obtainment of presents. They firmly believe, however, that all diseases are sent upon them by the incantations of their enemies. They appear to have a faint idea of a future state ; for in burning their dead as they do about the Bay of San Francisco — and in burying them as they do, farther south — their habit is to de- posit with them bows and arrows and other things, as those tribes do who have a definite faith in another existence. Perhaps the finest traits in the character of these Indians are their faithful and ardent attachment to each other, and their admiration of true courage. After battle, or when disease has destroyed their friends, they exhibit the truest and deepest grief I have ever seen. The parental feeling — particularly maternity, that holiest im- pulse of our nature, is possessed by them in all its extreme tenderness. The aged and decrepid, too, receive from them the warmest sympathy, and when the old or the young die, they lament a number of nights about their tombs, or their last abode j and consider it unkind, for many months after, to 370 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 't 'ii' mention the names of the dead in the presence of the surviving, and thus renew their grief. Their respect for the truly valiant amounts almost to adoration. A chief or great brave who falls in battle is always honored ; not indeed with a trium- phal entry into Rome or Paris, but by having a slice of his flesh eaten by his victorious and reverent enemy. This is es- teemed the highest honor that can be paid to the dead. It is also believed by them that the flesh eaten will convey to the bosom that receives it, the brave breath that has fled from the deceased. They, like other North American savages, take the scalps of their enemies, and preserve them as trophies of their valor. One custom among them is, I believe, er.tirely peculiar to themselves. They pluck out the eyes of their enemies, and by some method preserve them in a state of great perfection, as the most precious tokens of their victory The hot sand, and hot air baths, are the sovereign reznedies for all diseases among the Indians of Upper Californie. ,* and accordingly the means of administering them are found every- where. The former are prepared by scooping out a trench in the sand six or eight feet in length by one or two in brtadth j less or more according to the size of the patient. Over this a fire is kept burnmg until the sand is thoroughly heated. The fire is removed and the sand stirred until a proper tempera- ture is obtained. The patient is then laid into the hollow, nn(\ covered with the heated sand up to the neck. By this means a protracted and profuse perspiration is »>roduced, in {he midst of which the patient plunges into a f/Ueam or the sea. The hot air bath is prepared as follows. A hole is dug in the ground, on the bank of a stream, or other beds of water, from five to ten feet in diameter, and from one to three feet in depth, which is covered with a well braced roof of poles, brush and grass, all secured by cords and plastered over with mud. A hole is left in the centre of the roof for the escape of smoke and admission of the light ; one also at the side for entrance ■and egress. Several persons enter this oven and build a fire TRW i: I, & IN T 11 E C A M F li N I A S. 171 of dry wood noar the door, which they continue till the tem- perature is raised as high as they can bear it, when they fall to scraping themselves violently with shells and pieces of sharp wood ; and at length when the heat is no longer sup- portable, leave the oven and plunge into the water. These processes are repeated till the patient is restored or dead. YuTAS OR Utaws. — The tribes of Indians called the Utaws or Youtas, and the Arrapahoes or Navajos, inhabit the country lying between the Lake Tirapanigos and Santa Fe. The Utaws range between Latitudes 35*^ and 42*^ N., and the Meridians 29° and 37^ W. Longitude of Washington. The legitimate country of the Arrapahoes lies between 36^ and 42^ N., and between Meridians 35^ and 37'' W. Longitude of Washington, the Jila being their southern and the Sheetska- dee a part of their eastern boundary. " The great Yutas tribe," says my friend Doctor Lyman, " is divided into two families which are contradistinguished by the names of their respective head-quarters ; the Taos Yutas, so called, because their principal camp is pitched in Taos mountains, seventy miles north of Santa Fe ; and the Timpa- nigos Yutas, who hold their great camp near the Tirapanigos lake." These two families speak the same language, have the same manners and customs, and indulge in the same bitter hatred towards each other. A few years ago they were one people ; but lately an old feud between some of the principal chiefs resulted in a dismemberment. The Tirapanigos Yutas are a noble race, very friendly to Americans ; and brave and hospitable. They look upon their brethren of the Taos moun- tains with contempt on account of their thieving propensities, and their treachery in robbing and often murdering the soli- tary wanderer who may chance to come into their country. The river San Juan is the boundary between these two bran- ches of the Yutas, across which they seldom pass. Each ot these tribes numbers about ten thousand souls. They subsist chiefly by the chase ; but cultivate a little maize." 372 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. l'^. " The Nabajos maintain perpetual peace with the Tiiupani* gos, but are at deadly feud with the Taos party. " These Nabajos are the most civilized of all the wild Indi- ans of North America. They raise a great abundance of maize or Indian corn, wheat, beans, peas, onions, squashes and other esculent vegetables, and an inferior kind of tobacco, known in New Mexico under the name of punche. They have large droves of magnificent horses, many of which will compare with the finest horses of the States, both as to ap- pearance and value. They also breed a few mules ; but usu- ally supply themselves with these animals by marauding ex- peditions into New Mexico and the Californias. These Indians are constantly at war with white people, and attack them whenever they meet them. But in the case of the Ameri- cans they have thus far found that mere animosity and Indian whoops form a poor defence against the rifles of our trappers. They are frequently making peace with the people of New Mexico ; but observe their pledged faith no longer than until vhey think their duped allies have accumulated a few sheep, mules and horses ; when the first indication the poor herdsmen have of the renewal of hostilities, is the descent of a war-party upon their villages, killing every one who has not time to escape, driving off all their flocks, and committing e^ very other kind of depredation. Yet so contemptible is the cowardice ol those New Mexicans, that they will exert themselves strenu- ously for a renewal of the peace, which they know the wily Indian will assent to, now that he has become, for the pres- ent, satiated with plunder. Indeed the experience of these repeated acts of treachery seems to have no effect in arousing the courage and indignation of the New Mexicans. They are, in fact, morally and physically beneath even the Indian, and more unfit to rank among the civilized races. They are more treacherous, more cowardly and more despicable in every way. They cross themselves and adore the Virgin, at the same broath driving a concealed dagger to your heart ; and pray God for the peace of your soul, while they kick you, be* r;:—-- ' TRAVELS IN THE C A L U' 11 N I A 8. 373 cause in your death-struggles you don't lie conveniently still for them to rifle your pockets. " These Nabajos have within a few years past been t&aght some respect for the Americans in the following manner. A large party of trappers, with a few Shawnee and Delaware Indians, penetrated into the heart of their country, were vic- torious in all their skirmishes, killed a great many Indians, at a loss of only one or two of their own party, and drove off' many mules, horses, and sheep. This expedition has had a good effect upon the Nabajos. They now prefer trading to fighting with the Americans. " In the autumn of 1841, also, a trader from Bent's Fort, on the Arkansas, went with a party of thirty-five men into the Nabajo country, built a breastwork with his bales of goods, and informed the astonished Indians that he had " come into their country to trade or fight, whichever they preferred." The campaign of the old trappers was too fresh in their memory to allow hesitation. They chose to trade ; and soon a brisk business commenced— the savages bartering freely their valuable furs and blankets for the gaudy goods of the whites ; so that, in a couple of days, the latter were on their return to the Arkansas. ** These Indians are in possession of large flocks of sheep, which they have, at diiTerent times, taken from the New Mexicans. I was informed that they owned in 1841 upwards of one hundred thousand head. The fleeces of these animals are long, coarse, and heavy, somewhat resembling mohair. These they shear, and manufacture into blankets of a texture so firm and heavy as to be perfectly impervious to water. This fact I have myself tested by lEuspending one of them at its four corners, and pouring in two or three buckets of water, which remained there until it all evaporated, and not a drop filtered through. I ht ve now in my possession one of these blankets which I purchased of the Nabajos soon after I entered the Taos Mountains, and which, during ^.wo years' encampment in the wilderness, did me most valuable service 64 *"l 3M S ( K N K S IN THE PACIFIC 6: ^•■1, I*' I '' Throughout very many nights of incessant mountain rains it was my only shelter ; and never, in a single instance, was any part of my clothing wet >vhich was covered by it. " They make two species of blankets, both equally cflicient in protecting the wearer from cold and rain. The one, of which I have a specimen, is made of the native black and white wool, woven in alternate stripes of about four inches in width, each with a very rtarrow border of indigo blue. This is their common blanket. " The other is the state robe, the blanket of the chiefs, a sort of national costume. It is firmly woven of various colors, and with a great variety of fantastic figures. The scarlet and indigo borders and decorations are made of the threads of woollen cloths which they purchase of the traders, unravelled and rewoven with other yarns, dyed with indigo. From the bark of the " chimisa" or wild sage (one of the salvice), they procure a deep brilliant yellow dye. These three bright colors, with the natural black and white wool, make, in their hands, a very superb blanket, and one so highly estetmed by them, that they will not part with it on any consideration. Besides being costly and gay, they look upon them as 7U(- tional heirlooms, and appear to be offended when a proposi- tion is made to purchase them. I offered a Nabajo chief, for one of these blankets, different articles which were equivalent there to at least $75 ; but he rejected them in a haughty man- ner, notwithstanding they were scarce and exceedingly valua- ble to him. They consisted of a good rifle, powder, lead, indigo, Vermillion (for painting their faces), coral-beads, knives, looking-glasses, needles, American tobacco, &c., &c., in a word, an assortment of all the articles of Indian trade. " The Timpanigos Yutas are very friendly to the American, and are delighted to have him in their camp. Their first and constant greeting is, ' Kahche winay — marakah nay,' * very good American,' They manifest the greatest contempt for the New Mexicans. I travelled through their country with one of their head chiefs, named Wah-cah-rah, who was on '^S'^ '♦ i,V't TRAVELS IN r II K ( A 1. 1 T O R N I A «. 3?.') his return from an unsuccessful expedition across the St. John's river, in pursuit of his faithless wife, who had left him and fled over the border with her paramour. He was quite sad during the early part of the journey, and was constantly muttering something of which 1 frequently distinguished the expression, * Kah-che, kai-yah, raah-ru-kah,' which, from hearing so often repeated, I recollected, and afterwards, when he became more philosophic, which was the case towards the latter part of the journey, I asked him to interpret for me (he could speak a little Spanish), and he said it meant < very bad girl.' He disclaimed all thought of invading the country of his successful rival, for he had, as he said, two other beau- teous Helens, who would console him for his loss, and they certainly ought to do so, for he was the very beau-ideal of nature's nobility." PiuTEs. — The northern banks of the Colorado, the region of Severe river, and those portions of the Timpanigos desert where man can find a snail to eat, are inhabited by a race of Indians, which I have partially described in my former book of travels befoi e mentioned, under the name of Piutes. Doctor Lyman gives the same name differently spelled, Paiuches. He introduces his observations in relation to them by some further remarks as to the desolate character of the country which they inhabit. " The only animal which I saw for many hundred miles through this country, was the hare (in one or two instances a stray antelope), but so wild, that we seldom could kill one of them. They were so densely covered with vermin, that nothing but utter starvation would induce one to eat them ; they live upon the bark and tender branches of wild sage ; and yet this immense tract of country is inhabited by a com- paratively numerous tribe of Indians, generally known as the Paiuches, but by some called the Shoshonies, a name perhaps more properly applied to a tribe living a few degrees to the northward, and very much like the Paiuches in character. " The Paiuches speak the same lanounoe as the Yutas, and MK.^ ^' k.'. 376 SCENES IN Till: I" A (Mill. are a branch of that tribe, but considered by the hitter as mere dogs, the refuse of the lowest order of humanity j and they certainly are ; for living in a country where vegetation is so scarce, that nothing but the diminutive hare can exist j where the water is of the {uion .>t thu! acter, and famine an everyday occurrence ; thus being nearly deprived of even the plainest nourishment fit for the support of the body, and al- most entirely destitute of clothing to protect them from the inclemency of winter, what more could be expected of them than an equality with the brute creation 1 They are superior to them only in possession of a soul ; but of this they seem to be totally unconscious. They have an idea of some superior being, whose presence they appear to recognize only in the raging elements. As to a future state they are utterly igno- rant : their life being o.ie of brutal sensuality, and death a supposed annihilation. They do not even manifest the mu- tual affection of parents and children, so universally obsorvj.'d in the brute There are instances to the contrary, but these are very -are. " The food of these Indians is in conformity with the charac- ter of the country they inhabit. They collect the seeds of grasses, growing on the margins of the springs and salt ponds, roast and pulverize them between two stones, and then boil them into a thick mish. Upon this they subsist tolerably well while the gathering season continues; but being too bt'jpid and improvident to make provision for the remainder of the year, they are ol'ten in the most wretched condition oi want. Sometimes they succeed in ensnaring a hare, the flesh of which they eat, and the skin of which they cut in^o cords with the fur adhering ; and braid them together so as to form a sort of cloak with a hole in the middle, through which thv'y thrust their heads. The baiiv of pine trees growing on some of the trap raoun*ains, is also a general artlcie of food ; so are roots ! Ants, grasshoppers, and lizards, are classed among their choicest dainties. There are no relentiiigs in favor of these little unfortunates ; for no sooner are they grasped by the hand, than the teeth consign them to the iomb TRAVELS IN THE CALIK0KNIA3. 377 " It seems impossible that human licings can exist as these miserably destitute Indians do, ^Yit^out degenerating into the brutes they are : and therefore if they were not originally an inferior order of the human family, they have become so in all that appertains to the distinguishing and ennobling fea- tures of the race. In stature they are diminutivr ; in personal appearance disgusting in the extreme ; their long untr'nimcd hair, instead of hanging in flowing masses over tht £: loiiklers, like that of other American Indians, is thickly matted with dirt, stands out on the head in hard knots, alive with vei rnin ; which latter are eagerly sought after by them, as an article of food. I have seen other Indians engaged in this species of foraging, and even some of the women of New Mexico, but with much less zest and enjoyment of the appetite. Ablution, a custom universal among other Indians, these never practise. I might, but will not say more on this matter ; enough has pro- bably been said to give a pretty good idea of the exceeding disgust I felt at seeing and knowing that such wretched ex- istences attached to our race. Without knowledge, without shelter, without raiment, food, water, fit for man, they are born and live and die among those terrible deserts, the most miserable of men, yet contented with their lot. But every man's hand is against them. The New Mexicans capture them for slaves ; the neighboring Indians do the same ; and even the bold and usually high-minded old beaver-hunter sometimes descends from his legitimate labor among the mountain streams, to this mean traflic. The price of these slaves in the markets of New Mexico varies with the age and other qualities of person. Those from ten to fifteen years old sell from $50 to $100, which is by no means an extravagfint pri:e, if we take into consideration the herculean task oC cleansing them fit for market. Their filth in their native state can indeed scarcely be conceived by one who has not beheld it ; and to him it seems that nothing less potent than the waters of Peneus can wash it away. " Notwithstanding their horrible deficiency in all the com- 32* 378 SCENES IN THE I' A C I K I C. mKJ li)'^.. forts rnd decencies of life, these Indians are so ardently attached to their country, that when carried into the lands of their captors and surrounded with abundance, they pine away and often die in grief for the loss of their native deserts. In one instance, I saw one of theve Paiuches die from no other apparent cause than this home-sickness. From the time it was brought into the settlements of California it was sad, moaned, and continually refused to eat till it died. " The Paiuches are very cowardly. They, however, make some weapons of defence, as bows and arrows. The bows are about six feet long ; made of the savine {Juniperus sahina). This wood being very tough and elastic, the bows are both powerful and durable. Their arrows are made of a species of cane-bamboo, and are from three to four feet long, pointed with a bit of fire-hardened wood. When these canes are young they chew them for the juice, which contains consider- able saccharine matter. Their habitations, if such they may be called, are of the rudest character. Some of them are mere holes dug in the sand-hills ; others consist of sticks and branches of brush and trees piled up conically, and covered with dirt. This latter kind is usually found where they attempt villages of greater or less size, and stand huddled closely together. The interior of these huts is filthy beyond description. " These Indians, although destitute of that daring which characterizes many other tribes in the mountain regions of which we are speaking, are occasionally a source of great annoyance to those who traverse these deserts, by gathering around their camps in the darkness of the night, and letting fly a volley of arrows at the travellers' horses and mules, mor- tally wounding or disabling more or less of them, so that they must be left behind when the caravan moves on ; and when danger of chastisement has passed, they surfeit themselves on their carcases. " In this description of the Paiuches I have been governed by my own personal observations," says Doctor Lyman, "made TRAVELS IN THB CALIFORNIA 8. 37V» during the three months I was occupied in trayeraing their country. I have been rather minute, because I am not aware of any other correct account having been given of them. And although one is disgusted with their personal filth and mental degradation, yet his strongest sympathies must be ex- cited by this shocking degradation, whi'jh the character of the country that they inhabit promises to perpetuate. They were the innocent cause of a great deal of suffering to myself and two companions. Four New Mexicans attached to our party captured on the banks of the Colorado an adult male and female with one child, whom myself and two friends tried to induce them to liberate. But as the other Americans of our company would not aid our effort, the majority was found against the movement r d it failed. Our humanity raised such prejudices against us, that dissensions arose which result- ed in a determination on the part of three of us to have no more connection with the party, and to prosecute our journey ' on our own hook.' The other Americans, as denrous as ourselves for the liberatian of the captives, but, as it proved, more discreet, remained with the Mexicans. So off we started by ourselves, three lone men, and travelled thirty-five or forty days, and endured the most excessive fatigue, and depriva- tions of food and water, much of which would have been avoided if we had smothered our objections to our companions' conduct in this affair, and been guided by their greater expe- rience over *' ise dreadful wastes. As it was, however, we travelled mau^ successive days along the Colorado, over sandy deserts, subsisting on a daily allowance of a uiw mouthsful of thin mush, and a little nauseous and bi ter water wherewith to wet our mouths on^e in twenty-four or forty-eight hours. No druggist ever compounded a draught mo.t disgusting than the green, slimy or brackish waters v hich we were compelled to drink. Finally our little stock ol provisions was consumed to the last grain ; and starvation was staring us in the hce ; but relief was not denied us ; the sight o' ^ne wooded moun- tains of Upper California inspired ua ^i{h new strength and il i i**!^' ;;;' f ■■: W ^-: 3S0 rt i; K N K 8 IN Til E I' A CI VI V courafTf, and soon after we fell in with a river of pure water* coining down from them ; more deliclnus than the streams ot olden fable; and our thankfulness and delight — who can measure it ? It was ecstasy — such feelings I believe have no words. In those beautiful mountains we surfeited ourselves on the rich meats and fruits there abounding ; prudence was cast to the winds ; we could eat, and therefore did so ; but ere long we suffered bitterly for our imprudence. "We w^ere not a little gratified, however, on arriving at the settlements on the sea-shore to learn that after we left the camp of these New Mexicans, our countrymen who remained with them, secretly in the night time loosed the Paiuche cap- tives and sent them to their desert homes." Animals. — Ursus ./Imericanus, The Black ^ear, is an inhabitant of many partt'> of California, and is too well kno vn to most readers to require a description. In its habits aid appearance it differs little from its brethren of the north. Ursus Arctos v. Jtmericanus Barren Ground Bear. — This is probably a variety of the first mentioned species, from which it differs in its lighter color, being a dusky brown. It resembles in appearance and habits, particii- krly in the nature of its food, which consists to a great se, and his figure and general appear- ance are quite different, being much lighter and more slender, and refejmbling more nearly the common deer. The legs, like those of the whole family, are long and slender, the tail short, 6 ,1; 3S6 SCENES IN THE PACiriC. the horns long and much branched, the color a decided gjeey, often with a mixture of brown. Several other species of deer are found on the Grand and Sheetskadee rivers, and in various other parts of California. The Cervus macrotis, Black-tailed Deer, is a handsome ani- mal. Its size is about that of the common deer. The color is blueish grey on the back, and fawn color on the belly. The ears are curious, being as long as those of an ass, and the tail is short and black. Another very small and pretty species is the Cervus leucurus, Long-tailed or Jumping Deer, the chcvreuil of the hunters. This is grey on the back, and pure white on Hie belly, and is remarkable for having a tail from twelve to eighteen inches in length. AntUope furdfery The Pronghorn Antelope, is a very pretty and delicate species. It is not generally abundant, though in some localities it may be found in considerable num- bers. Its extreme shyness renders its capture a matter of great difficulty. It presents a very graceful appearance when bounding up the sides of almost inaccessible rocks ; and the hungry traveller is often tantalized with beholding it standing in perfect safety on a far-off cliff, while his utmost endeavors to get it within range of his rifle are perfectly futile. Ovis montana. The Mountain Sheep, or Argali, is another pfeouliar animal. Its habitation is on the loftiest and coldest mountains, among the most tremendous and impassable pre- cipices. In general figure it much resembles a large sheep of the domestic kind, but its horns seem out of all proportion to its body. These are from two to nearly three feet in length ; are deeply ribbed, and curve backwards. Their weight on the male is sometimes thirty ponnds. The covering of the body can scarcely be called wool, being a kind of coarse, short hair, of a dingy brown color. It is called by the voya- geurs " Mouton gris" and the flesh, though rather dry, is very good. The mountain sheep appears to have early attracted the attention of travellers, and is described {yy Padres Piccolo and Salvatierra under the Califomian name of it;>, I IS V ^'- \'- i IP ■ i ml' \ ■ I 1 i The Bison.— P. 387 The Black-tailed Deer.— P. 387. TRAVELS IK THB CALIP0RNIA8. 387 Taye. The horns of this species are manufactured into spoons and various other useful articles. Bos AmericanvSy The Bison, so well known to western hunters, and so numerous on the prairies between the Rocky mountains and the United States, can hardly be considered a Californian animal. That it once inhabited the country there can be no doubt, but probably in consequence of the great and singular change which has converted the interior from a rich and fertile plain into a desolate waste, the bison has receded, and is now only to be found, and that in small numbers, on the extreme eastern and northern border. Lutra marina, The Sea Otter, and Lutra Brasiliensis, The Land Otter, are found in many parts of the country. The former is abundant in most parts of the whole coast, and at the mouths of the rivers.* Of rats, mice, marmots, and squirrels, there are numerous species, only one or two of which seem worthy of notice. The common rat, the black rat, and two or three different * This is perhaps the most valuable fur-producing animal of the coun try, and its skin is much sought after by the Russians for the purpose of adorning the cloaks and state robes of the nobility. The fur is of a vel- vety brown color on the back, and sprinkled with black and silky hairs, and the lower parts of the animal are of a rich silvery grey. The sea otter is from five to six feet in length, and weighs from thirty to forty pounds, its body being of very slender proportions. The hinder legs are very short, the tail short, broad, and paddle-shaped. The color varies at different periods of life ; when very young, the fur is thin and scanty, and the skin principally covered with brown hair ; from this period till full grown, the color is nearly, black, with many hairs tipped with white, and the face, throat, breast, and sometimes the entire belly, are yellowish white, or very light brown. The fur gradually increases in thickness and lengia until the animal attains its growth, when it assumes the rich brown of maturity, which in extreme age becomes a chestnut, or even a perfect yellow color. The sea otter lives, sometimes in families of considerable numbers, on the sea-washed rocks, and mostly in the water. It freqviei.tly rises to the surface, and utters a hoarse snapping bark like that of an angry dog. It f'opds on fish, and brings forth its youn;; in holes dug in the sand. The skins am worth from S50 to SlOO each. The shoroi' of California would iiir;;i>i'\ from on.OOO to ",0.000 annutillv *l t"!l| n IN "i lii ! 388 SCENES IN TUB P A CI f < I C. kinds of mice, are found in great numbers in many places, and their depredations are sometimes very disagreeable Pieuddstoma bursdrwm (?) The Pouched Rat, and the Mrc- tomys Beecheyi; Small Marmot, are carious little creatures. The latter is exceedingly plentiful in the plains near San Francisco and Monterey. It is a very sprightly animal, some- what larger than the common rat, of a fine brown color, and constructs its burrows with much skill, carrying in its capa- cious cheek pouches, a store of nuts, corn, and acorns, for its . winter's food. The species of Jhdvmys are numerous, ami some of them probably undescribed. Of ascertained species may be mentioned A. Indovicidnus, the well-known and very pretty Prairie marmot, sometimes called Gopher, which how- ever is not found far to the west, and A. monaXf the wood- chuck. Of squirrels, there may be observed Sciurvs ciiie- reus, the grey, S. nigery the blacki, S. nmcroureus, the great-tailed, besides Pteromys alpinus (?) the flying squirrel, and a species of Tamias, striped squirrel or dormouse. Of hares there are several fine species ; one weighing from eight to twelve pounds, probably Lepus glacialis ; another is L. VirgmianuSfi^e Prairie Hare, and also L. Privceps (?) the Lit- tle Hare, which is only about six inches in length. Birds. — Worthy of mention among the first of the feathered family in California, is the Great Vulture, peculiar, probably, to this country. Let his name be given in full — a lofty and sonorous one, and well fitting its owner — Sarcoramphos Cali- fomianus ! Second only to the huge condor of South Ame- rica in size, and closely allied to him in many respects, this remarkable bird deserves particular notice. The great vul- ture is met with along tht "^ole Pacific coast from Lower California to the most northern bou.^daries of Oregon and the Russian possessions. Solitary in its habits, rapacious in its appetite, enormous in size, and singular in conformation and appearance, it seems to hold the same position in the scenery of this country as its celebrated European congener, the Lammergeyer, in that of the Alps. It builds its nest among TheOrm/ ^S/utVre/.— Page 388. The Black SquirrcL—Page 388 The Flying Squirrel.— Page 388. i I ill Ki'U 1 :; .^ V :', Mi; I' 1 ]Re !: tM J.' WSu liU Ml t" m i ■ m 1 ■ li in TRAVELS IN Till-: C A L I K 1( N t A S. 389 the woody districts of California, on the tops of the highest trees, in the most inaccessible parts ol the uiountnin valleyst It is very wary and dilBeult of approach, except while on its nest, or after a meal, when its whole nature seems to be changed, and it is so overcome by the inordinate indulgence of its appetite, that it may be knocked on the head with a stick. Their food is carrion, and, in common with others of the vultures, the carcase of a dead horse or other animal be- comes their gathering-place. The great vulture mea^ires, when full grown and in perfect plumage, about four feet eight inches in length, from the point of the beak to the end of the tail, and from nine feet six inches to ten feet from tip to tip of the wings. The color is an uniform brownish black ; the bill, and skin of the head and legs, yellow. The quill feathers are much esteemed by the hunters and boatmen for making tubes to their pipes. Cathartes aura, The Turkey Buzzard, so common in the Southern States, is rather a rare bird in California. Its habits are well known. As a scavenger it is of great benefit to the inhabitants of the places which it frequents. A doad hog or sheep lies only long enough to emit the odor so grateful to the nostrils of this filthy bird, before it is devoured utterly out of sight. As far as the observations of the author have ex- tended, it is in California a bii d of passage, being only found there in the autumn and winter. Cathartes airattu, The Black Vulture, is quite common in almost every part of the country west of the Rocky Moun- tains. Its habits and general appearance are quite similar to those of the last mentioned species. Aqaila ChryaaetoSy The Golden Eagle, is a noble bird, and is considered by the Indians as well as the civilized nations, an emblem of power and bravery. Its plumes are used by the natives as ornaments, and are attached to their pipes or calumets, from which circumstance it is called the Calumet eagle. This species is found on the coast, and in most sections of the woody and mountainous parts of California. It feeds If " Mil-' \i 4 l''f I;"' '. n $ 4 r.1 r !' 5 I' «*" •■* » • 390 SCRNKS IN THE PACIVIC. on hares, gruusc and other game, and seldom, if ever, catches fish. Jiquila leucocephala, The Bald Eagle. — This well known bird, the '* American Eagle" by pre-eminence, seems hardly worthy of his pliice as tlie emblem of the United States. Though in appearance, in elegance and strength of figure, in rapidity of flight, and keenness of vision, he is inferior to none of his race, the truth compels the confession that his private character is tinctured with some unworthy vices. His appe- tite is dreadfully voracious, and when it cannot be otherwise satisfied, he contents himself with attacking the vultures, and devouring the disgusting contents of their maws, af\er com- pelling them to disgorge by repeated blows on their backs. He is also a complete pirate in his warfare with the honest fish-hawk, oflen forcing the latter, by dint of superior size and strength, to give up his well earned, long watched for, and skilfully secured prey of fish, which he devours with great zest. He is a very expert fisher himself, however, and the weight of his victim is sometimes really surprising. The haunts of this eagle u. about streams which contain its favorite food, where it may often be seen perched on the over- hanging limb of a dead tree, keeping vigilant watch on the water below, and along the coast, near the mouths of creeks and inlets of the sea. The voice is a shrill scream or whistle which may be heard a4 a great distance. The young are generally from two to four in number, and they remain a long time in the nest. Great confusion has been produced in nomenclature by the frequent mistakes arising from the variety of color in this bird, a variety which seems to depend solely upon age. The first plumage is of a brownish black color, which in the ensuing summer becomes a dark and speckled grey, and it is not till the third year that it assumes the pure and brilliant white of the head and neck, which has given it the epithet of " Bald," and the deep black of the rest of the body. The bald eagle is about three feet in length, and . -- I m % . <'8 m 4 1,1 vl n til' f, .. :jii2 S I L N K >« I > THE F A 1 1 >• 1 C . l)relJiren oi the same rpecies in Uie States; the color boinj^ a ileeper and brighter brown. The Strix nyctaea. Great Snow Owl, is well known as an inhabitant of almost all the northern parts of America. It preys on rats, birds and hares, ami is a very dexterous fisher. The Indians, and even the white residents, sometimes eat it. and indeed its flesh is very white and palatable. Several other owls inhabit this country, among which must be mentioned the little Strix tunicularia, which seems to reverse the habits of its family, by living in the l)urrows of the prairie marmot. They may be seen in great numbers just at the close of evening, sitting at the mouths of their holes on the sandy plains. iMnius bnrealis, The Northern Shrike ; several species of Tijrarmus and Tyrannuia, Fly-cutchers ; Merula migraloria, The Robin ; Orpheasfdivox, The Cat-bird ; Orpheus rufus, The Brown Thrush ; several Sylvicolce; Mauda, The Lark, one or two species ; Emberiza nivalis^ The Snow Bunting ; Icterus phaniceus, The Redwing, are found in various parts of the Californias as well as in the United States. Loxia hacoptera, The Cross-bill, is found all over the country in the pine forests, and displays great dexte'lty in picking out with its curiously constructed bill the seeds of the pine cones, which are its principal food. Corvus corax, The Raven, is numerous in many parts of the Californias, and differs not at all in plumage and habits from its brethren in the United States Corvus coroney The Crow, is also found in great numbers. Corvus pica, Th»-' Magpie, much resembles in general ap- pearance the Euruj)t'a;i species, from which it difleis in size, being considerably larger, and its colors are rather deeper and more biilliant. It s a bold and saucy bird, living upon various; kinds of reptiles and evr.n small birds, is fond of car- rion of ail sorts, and has often the impudence to visit the «au)p of the hunter and carry off his meat. Gafiulus cristafus, The Common Blue Jay, and another smaller sptxiea, probably G. StcUeri, a*e quite common. The I I The Ruffed Grouse.— 2d2. ^ii ii , l^^ The mid Oooac— Page 392. i. .,-.;^''' w [i-ii It ! I' f- 111; 'K^n "« 1^ i li ii! ';.. ■•f" fli* iJ;, 1 (s A N i; I. ■> IN T 11 U i; A 1. 1 K H > I A B. 393 latter soiuetirat's congregate in flocks of considerable r umber, and are tame and familiar, coming freely into the villages in search of food. Colaptes Mexicanm, a very pretty Woodpecker, is found in Upper California, and all along the Pacific cousN and is, with the exception of an occasional individual of the golden- winged species, Picus aurattis, the only woodpecker which the author has observed, except a species at Monterey, which is probably not yet described. In some parts of California, particularly in the South, the huautiful Humming Bird is quite numerous. As far as the -aithor's notice has extended, the species are but two, the TrochUus colubris, Common Humming Bird, well known to every one in the United States, and a still more elegant spe- (;ies, T. rtifus, which seems to inhabit almost the whol<* country, from Nootka Sound to the Rio del Norte in Mexico This delicate and splendid little creature is somewhat less in Nize than the common species, and is perhaps the most per- fect gem in nature. When seen glancing through the leaves, it resembles the flash of a large ruby. Swallows are abundant, and of several species, among which may be mentioned Hirundo Americana^ the Common Harn Swallow, H. lunifrons, the Cliff Swallow, and the //. riparia, Bank Swallow or Sand Martin. Caprimulgus Virginianus, The Night Hawk, often alarms the wearied traveller, near nightfall, by swooping down, and uttering in his ear its odd and startling note. Jilcedo Jllcyon^ The Kingfisher, is seen flitting over every little stream an(( water-course in search of his scaly prey, and seems to be a fdmnonent feature in the scenery of every rapid and waterfall. There is probably no counuj in the world which produces so many varieties ol the Grouse, or in so great numbers. The heart of a Yankee sportsman would almost burst with delight at the success of a day's shooting in some parts of the interior of California. Tdrao uruphaxianus, The Great Cock of the Plains, second only in size and beauty to the m «>: i T 1^ ' S94 SCENES IN IHE PACIFIC. I till' ' m n celebrated cock of the woods of the north of Europe, is very plentiful in North California, as well a> in the regions watered by the Columbia river. This noble iird generally makes his residence in the barren plain, among low bushes and brush- wood, under which it runs and lurks ; and is flushed with some difficulty, generally taking wing near enough to the shooter to afford hlra a fair mark. The cock of the plains is about thirty inches in length, and nearly four feet in extent, and weighs from seven to ten pounds. The flesh is very fine and delicate. The color is a bright grey, varied with small brown spots on the back and wings. Another fine species is the T. ob- scurus, Dusky Grouse, a very handsome bird, though much less in size than the preceding, and which, together with the T. rwpestris. Rock Grouse, inhabits the mountainous regions of the North. T. umbellus, The Ruffed Grouse, or Pheasant of the Southern States, and the T. leucurus, White-tailed Grouse, are common in different places. I have never met with either the T. phasianellus, Pintail Grouse, or the T. Franklinii, which are probably confined to the more remote regions of the North. The bays, inlets, and rivers, are well stocked with different species of water birds, and the low lands near the outlets of some of the streams on the Pacific coast actually swarm with geese, ducks, widgeon, teal, cranes, curlews, snipes, and va- rious other waders and swimmers. Of this class of birds, the infinite variety forbids mention but of a few individuals. The Tringa, Sand Piper, the Charadriits, Plover, the JVumeri- ruts, Curlew, the Totanus, Tatler, the Limosa, Godwit, the Scolopax, Snipe, the Phalarope, the Lnrus, Gull ; of each several species, and in immense numbers, throng the shores. Cygnus buccinator, The Swan, is the largest bird of the country, and seems to differ in nothing from the same species elsewhere. Its color is pure white, except that of the bill and legs, which is black, and of the forehead, which is a fine orange. This is a splendid and powerful bird. They arrive , ih . ■i?i:m v> ); \i T li \ « T V { 0i m ft. ~i >h>.. v. a I THAVKI. S IN TIIK C A L 1 K O 55 N I .1 9. 395 from the far north in Ihc spring, generally as early as April, and return in Oclobtr or November. A smaller species of swan frequents the same locality. It resembles the last mentioned, except in size, being consider- ably smaller, and in its note, which is quite different. This may be the C. Bewickii. Douglas speaks of a third variety found near the Columbia, and which he describes as equal in size to the common swan, of a bluish grey on the back and white on the belly, and he states that this color is " preserved in all stages of its growth." This is probably a mistake. That individuals answering this description are found, there is no doubt, but they seem to be the young of the first-mentioned species. Geese are abundant in similar places, and their term of residence in the country, and of migration, appears to be the same with those of the swan. The species which have come under the author's observation are the Jlyxset albi/rons, Laughing Goose, Jl. Canndcjtsis, The common Wild Goose, JI. hyperboreus, The Snow Goose, and JJ. bcrtiact'ifTha Brant. Pdicanus onocrotalus, The White Pelican, is sometimes seen in various places on the coast. A Hock of these birds, standing in a line on the very verge of the sandy shore, is a fine sight ; their pure white color and lofty stature making them visible at a great distance. The jxculiar habits of the pelican have often been described, and nothing new can be addetl as having come under the special observation of the author. Large numbers ftctjuent the harbors, and resort much to the little island of Alcatrasses, which is covered with their t^xuviw. OIF the Pacific coast may be seen the huge Albatross, so Well known to seamen, on almost all parts of the deep These can often be taken by throwing a hook over the side of the vessel, baited with a piece of pork or other meat. Their voracity is so excessive that they will quarrel for pos- session of the prize which costs its unfortunate captor so (lear. There are two species, Diomcdea exulans and fuli- 59 I'l w h ' ■., tt'l I') ll 11 .t; t ! '4' t 396 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC ginosa. Specimens are sometimes seen of most enormous size, measuring nearly four feet in length, and from ten to twelve across the wings. There are probably many yet undescribed birds and qua- drupeds in this country. The author's sketches in this depart- ment are necessarily rather those of a traveller than a natu- ralist, and he has been obliged to content himself with men- tioning those species which casually came within his own notice. It is very probable that many inaccuracies may bi detected both in his nomenclature and descriptions, but these may be excused by the circumstances under which his notes were taken, his lack of books of reference, and his imperfect acquaintance with the Science of Zoology. The foregoing; Outlines of the Natural History of the Californias must there- tore be considered as possessing little pretension to the notice of the scientific student, but only as a part of the general plan of the author, in giving a brief account of the most striking objects which offered themselves directly to his observation, and as being intended merely for the eye of the general reader. Indeed it would be an useless as well as a presumptuous task, tu attempt in a book of this kind an elaborate description of the natural productions of the Cali- fornias; and the more so in regard to one portion at least of those productions, since the announcement of the intended issue of a work which, for the elegance and costliness of its design, the skill and research displayed in its contents, and the well-earned celebrity of its principal author, will probably bf unsurpassed by any similar undertaking. " The Viviparous Quadrupeds of North America," now in course of publication, will undoubtedly add a crowning laurel to the already welj- adorncd brow of John J. Audubon. Fish. — There are perhaps no waters in the world so produc- tive offish as those of the Californias, and of the regions still farther to the north. Immense numbers, and every variety of sea fish swarm in the Pacific coast, and the rivers are densely populated with several valuable specicvS. The Salmon.— Piige 390. The Turbot.—Page 396. TTie Skale.— Page 396. The Bonito.—Pzge 396. i m >i TRAVELS IN T M E C A I. I V U M A S. 397 The Californian Gulf produces also great numbers of eJiblc shell-fish. The oyster, the pearl shell, an account of the fishery for which has been heretofore given ; the muscle, several species of haliotis, all afford cither food or articles of trade and ornament to the inhabitants. In Upper California fish arc generally little sought ai\er, the productions of the earth being so numerous and plentiful; but in the colder regions of the north, they afford the common, and sometimes the sole subsistence of the natives. In the Columbia, as well as in the San Joaquim and Sacramento rivers, and in almost every water course having its outlet in the sea, the numbers of Salmo {Schouleri), Salmon, are almost incredible. On some of these rivers from two to three thousand are sometimes taken in a single day. The Indians capture them with a kind of wicker basket, similar to that used by the fishermen on the Atlantic coast for taking lobsters. This is done in the spring when the fkh are on their passage up the stream. They are also taken with the spear, which consists of a sharp piece of bone fastened to the end of a shaft of wood twelve or fifteen feet in length, and which the Indians use with great dexterity, frequently securing salmon of from twenty to thirty pounds in weight. The fish are dried or salted, and preserved for future use. They are also sometimes taken with only a small scoop net fastened to the end of a pole. Douglas speaks of an indi- vidual measured by him which was three feet five inches long, and ten inches broad, weighing thirty-five pounds. The author <^n vouch for the fact that this size is not exaggerated, hav- i.tff often st^en specimens nearly or quite as large. Some of the streams also abound with very fine salmon trout, and with a small trout nearly resembling the one which afTords so much sport to the anglers of the United States. Jlccipenser transmontn nus. The Sturgeon, sometimes attains great size in the large nvers, being from eight to ten feet in length, and weighing nearly 50C> pounds. In general, how- ever, this fish is of much smaller dimensions. It is principally found not far from the mouths of the rivers. w IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) .f sive veins of gold in the vicinity of the bay of San Francisco, and indeed in many other parts of this beautiful land. In Lower California, there are several mines, which the people are working in a rude way, but with considerable profit. Virgin silver and gold are often found in considerable quanti- ties. No doubt is entertained by those best acquainted with the Californias, that they will become, when science shall be applied in the development of their wealth, one of the richest mineral provinces of America. This belief is much strength- ened by the fact, that the Indians, whenever they choose, can bring into the settlements large quantities of these ores, which they either find on the surface, or pry from the crevices of the rocks with sharpened sticks, bones, or hunting knives. They cannot be induced to show the whites where they obtain these, on account of an old traditional superstition, that if they should do so, they would immediately die. Down the Coast. — On the fifth of May, 1840, we made our adieus to our acquaintance in Santa Barbara, preparatory to falling down the coast. The American visited the sick Englishman, found him breathing faintly, and apparently very near death. But it was necessary to embark, and leave the dying man in the kind care of his nurses, who, I have no > ^ t*i 0^ tU Ii* III jl" ■ 'HI 1 . 1 mm 1 1 p !|.. ft . :— ' " 1 TRAVELS IN T II K C A f. I !• O H N I A ». '103 «foubt, administered to his last want, and m:id»' his p;rave-dres8 with wiUinj^ hands. " Dead — starved to death ! Death of a Briton from thirst and starvation, by direction of Juan Bap- tista Alvarado, Governor of Upper California," is the account which truth will give, on earth and at the judgment, of this man's death. At twelve o'clock, the lusty fellows at the windlass had t-he anchor on the bow, an3 our good old ship was bearing down the coast under a fine northerly breeze. She, or rather he, for I believe all Dons are males, and particularly Don Quix- otes, being in ballast, ran rapidly, cheeringly, and exultingly over the quiet sea. And right glad were we to be under weigh. We had been long enough among the jolly birds and flowering meadows of California, to rejoice to be again at sea. It was sad, liovvever, to be borne away from the prisons and the moans of our fellow-countrymen. And now the deep blue sea — its mermaid song — its anthems of sub- limity — its glories and beauties ; really and in truth, what are they ? What man in his senses loves the Ocean 1 The mer- maids are all porpoises, and their songs all grunts! The deep sounds of the ocean's pealing organ, are the rude groans of the winds and the dashing rage of far-rolling surges, rap- ping madly at the bows ! The tufts of dancing foam on the bitter wastes — desert, heaving, unsympathizing, cold, home- less ! Love of Ocean 1 ! Poetry of Ocean ! ! It is a pity I cannot love it — see in its deep still lower realm, or in its lonely tumults, or its surface when the air is still, its heat, thirst and death, its vast palpitating tomb, the shady hand and veiled smile of loveliness ! — that I cannot believe Old Ocean has a heart, which sends its kindly beatings up and down all the shores of earth ! Poetry ! Loveliness ! They may be there ; but Ocean's odor and mien are not poetry to me ! If I have ever said anything to the contrary, I beg the pardon of the sea poets. There is, however, a certain class of beings who hold a very different opinion : these are the regular old Salts ; men who from boyhood have slept in the 'M ; f 404 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC forecastle, eaten at the windlass, sung at the halyards, danced on the yards to the music of the tempest, and hailed the tu- mult of the seas as a frolic in which they had a joyful part. We respect these poets. Indeed, the Ocean to them is a world, the theatre of their being ; and by inhabiting it all their days, these singular men become changed from partici- pants in the delights of natural life on land, to creatures of memory. Memory ! that mental actidn which sifts the past of its bitterest evils, and gives only the blossom and the fruit to after-time. These they enjoy in the midnight watch, at the dawn, in the storm, the calm, and in visions of sleep ; but for ever upon the deep, on the great expanse of the Sea ! Is it wonderful, then, that they should love it 1 that their affections become poetry 1 See thera seated at their meal before the mast ; their wide pants lap over their sprawled limbs ; the red flannel shirt peers out at the wrists, and blazes over their broad chests between the ample dimensions of the heavy pea- jacket ; and crowning all is the tarpaulin with its streaming band, cocked on one side of the head ; and grouped in the most approved style of a thoroughly lazy independence, they eat their meal. At such times, if the weather be fine, stud- ding-sails out, and top-gallants pulling, they speak of the ship as a lady, well decked, and of beautiful bearing, gliding like a nymph through the gurgling waters. If the breeze be strong, and drives her down on her beams, they speak of her as bowing to her Lord and Master, while she uses his might to bear her on to her own purposes And if the tempest weighs on the sea, and the fierce winds howl down upon her dead ahead, and the storm-sail displays over the fore-ohains its three-sided form, and the ship lays up to the raging ele- ments, breasting every swoop of wave and blast, she still is a lady, coming forth from her empire of dependent loveliness to bow before an irresistible force, only to rise again, and present the sceptre of Hope to dismayed man. These Salts believe in the poetry of the sea, and of the noble structures in TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIAS. 405 which they traverse its pathless immensity. And it may be that they are right, and I am wrong. During the day we passed near to the coast. A fruitful strip of land running along the shore ; broken by hills in- creasing in height from the water-side towards the interior, and bounded by high mountains partially covered with trees, but generally burnt and barren, is a true showing of that part of California. It was a bright day, with a cool whole- some air. Every sail was out and filled, as white as snow, the wind on the larboard quarter, the crew lounging, and the dolphins chasing, and the gulls screaming, and the spray dashing at the bows. Home, and the mother of my buried boy, if I may speak of myself, the heart's guiding star on those wastes of soul and of nature, were drawing near me, and in thought were there. Speed on, noble ship, speed on ; it is the illusion of happy memories, speed on ! On the sixth and seventh the breeze continued favorable. The coast was generally in sight, and appeared to be more and more barren as we followed it down ! " On the eighth we sailed along the east side of Guadeloupe. This island is about thirty miles in circumference, somewhat mountainous, evidently of volcanic origin, surrounded by im- mense reefs of black rocks, and destitute of coral formations. There are two places of access, the one on the southwest, the other on the northwest side. It has no harbor for anything else than small boats; and though containing considerable quantities of arable land, is uninhabited except by sea birds, turtles and goals. The latter are the offspring of a few of these animals landed upon it by the early Spanish navigators. They have been in unmolested possession of the island for the last eighty years, and are now so very numerous, that they could be profita- bly hunted for their skins and tallow. In former times this island used to abound in sea elephants and hair seal ; but the Ame- rican hunters and whalers have nearly destroyed them. As we passed, a right whale spouted near the shore. The cir- T 406 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. cutnstance electrified Tom, and opened his word loom to the following yarn. " The lubber, that whale ! I would like to be in the bow of a staunch boat, with four stout oarsmen, and a bold fellow to steer upon him ; I would soon make him spout blood in- stead of water ! ' I was telling you the yarn of my becoming a sailor, when the old man coiled up my thoughts among the halyards. Now that whale brings them back again, and while he is taking his observation, and blowing his nose, I'll finish my yarn. I was about nineteen when I blundered against the capstan of a whaler, and shipped at New Bedford for a three years' cruise. We left port with as good an outfit of harpoons, lines, knives, trying-pans, stores, and ship's crew as ever swam the brine. I remember we bad a studdin-sail breeze a longer time on our passage out, than I ever saw before or since, ex- cept in the trades. We put out all sail in sight of the New Bedford Light, and never took in a rag until we had crossed the equator ; and then we struck a dead calm, which conti- nued fifteen days. That was the worst siege at oakum and spun yarn that Tom ever saw. The sun seemed to pour down fire ! It was so warm that the tar in the deck fried and bubbled ; and the old long boat shrunk so much that you could stick your thumb through between the planks; and the d«cks were so hot that we were obliged to keep them con- stantly wet to enable us to stand on them. And as to breath- ing, we found that the hardest work of all. The great atmosphere seemed to have escaped, and left a perfect void ! The ocean was smooth ; not a rough spot upon it as big as a cent, except when the cook threw his slush overboard ! It lay and rolled like a bending sea of glass ! The vessel, with its sails hanging loose on the mast, rose and fell on it like a sheet upon the breast of the dying. The sky was awfully bare and deserted ! Not a shred of a cloud dotted it for fif- teen days ! I never felt lonesome till that time. I had rather lay to under storm sail a twelvemonth, than be compelled to TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIA:. 407 pick oakum and make spun yarn, and think through a calm like that. Well, at the end of fifteen days, just as the sun set, a little cloud about as large as John's tarpaulin, scud up in the nor'west, like an angel of mercy to tell us there was "wind once more in the heavens ; and about eight o'clock the old ocean began to stir ; the air struck our parched bodies, and the sails flapped, the vessel moved, and we began to feel that we were climbing out of a great hot grave ; I never shall forget that calm. " Well, we had light breezes till we got off Montevideo, when a stiff norther came on, which bore us on under double- reefed topsails down to the Cape. Here it came on to blow a gale, and we were obliged to run into Magellan, and lay to under the lee of the highlands. After lying there two days, the wind chopped round northeast, and the old man thought we might as well run through the Straits. But the gale was renewed, and rushed overland upon us with such fury that we could carry for a number of days, only sail enough to make the ship lay her course. At last we hove in sight of the Pacific, and run afoul one of those villainous head winds which you know often set into the west end of the Straits. This detained us nine days. At the end of this time, it hauled into the northeast, and enabled us to get into the open sea. Our course from the Straits was NW. But the wind again chopped round dead ahead ; consequently all we could do w^as to try to hold our own. We accordingly beat off and on, and lay to twelve days, when we found we must up helm and let her run. The gale was awful ; and as we advanced south, the raggedness of the sea was continually more and more frightful ; the cold became intense ; the water froze upon the deck six inches deep ; and the spars, and masts, and rigging were covered with ice to such an extent, that the ship swayed under the gale, and was likely to swamp ; the most like a death-cail from the mermaids that Tom ever saw, was that gale. The ship lurching her spars into the waves, the sslLots slipping, the rigging stiff, and the only sail set, 408 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. covered \Tith ice several inches thick ; the masts like vast icicles, and the old man and every man expecting every mo- ment to go down ! After drifting, however, as far as VC South, the gale abated, the wind changed, we cut away the studding-sail, rigged another, and stood away for the north, and in a few days got rid of our ice and other troubles. We now took our course for New Zealand, and about 300 miles east of that island fell in with the whales I thought of, as we" . " Bear a hand there, you lubbers." " Aye, aye, sir." " Bring out the old trysail, and run your yarns into that." " Aye, aye, sir." And thus was Tom's yarn again severed, much to his chagrin, and my regret ; for I longed to hear a whalesman's account of his bold and dangerous calling. On the 10th of May we came in sight of Cape Saa Lucas, bearing thirty miles SE. It was about five o'clock, P. M. The wind had been dying away since noon, and now barely kept the ship moving. The western portion of the sea was all light and glorious ; it lay panting, as a wearied giant just returned from the field of conflict. The sun, as he fell stea- dily down the great arc of heaven, was reflected more and more widely and intensely, until his reddest rays shot through the clear tops of the billows, and scattered a purple drapery of clouds sprinkled with gold up half the western sky. Gay- plumaged land birds gathered on the rigging, and twittered and sang to the approaching twilight. The land was eight miles from us j a rough red waste of mountains ! those holy desolations where the Indians' God made his descent to bless them, their streams, their fruits, and give elasticity to their bows. Sturdy scenes ! rocks on rocks, gloom on gloom, sand on sand, and dearth feeding dearth, and universal thirst prey- ing on animal and herb ! The living things in the sea fro- licked around us. The dolphin, the bonitos, the flying fish, the porpoise, the right whale, were all employing their muscles in their own way among the sleeping waters j and about the sides of the almost motionless vessel swarmed shoals of bright and active little fish that seemed to beseech us for TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIA S. 409 protection and food. As the sun's disc sank below the hori- zon, and he withdrew his last rays from the mists of the sea, and left the stars to their own twinkling, the mellow clear blue of a tropical sky came out over us ; such a sky as hangs over Athens and the Egean tides and islands. This was re- flected back from the waves, on which the stars danced and flickered, were extinguished and lighted up again, as swell after swell approached the ship, and rocked, as does the heart of the mother the child slumbering on her breast. The moon was in the first quarter, rounding to the full. And I remember never to have felt so strong a sympathy with it as on that glorious night. If dreams come when reason sleeps, and recollection serves only to feed the affections, and deepen the musings of the imagination and associating powers, I cer- tainly dreamed with eyes on the moon and stars and the sea of that night. The day had gone ; it was night ; the stars were out, and the sea was dancing to the music of the far distant and ceased tempest, and the moon had come over my home, was shining through its windows upon the table at which we ate, on the chairs in which we sat, on the walls that had witnessed the high and unmarred pleasures of the domestic affections. It was lighting up the altar of my holiest hopes, and crowding upon it every gem of joy which had shone on the path of the past ! A bird chirped among the rigging a note which resembled one that had gladdened even- ing walks, and often died in the ear as in the opening spring sleep was gathering us to rest ; and that chosen star, that con- secrated star, that star on which we hung our vows at parting, was looking down upon me ! I walked forward among the watch, who were loitering about the forecastle in silence. " A fine night this, sir," said one of them, " a fine night, sir. This weather reminds one of our New England Indian sum- mers, when I used to go out of an evening to a country dance, and throw clubs into the trees to get the finest apples for the neighboring girls. I recollect that I 1 i| my just «uch a night as this, when about twelve years old ! I wen* 410 SCENES IK THE PACIFIC. over to neighbor Parker's to invite them to a husking, and the old gentleman insisted, after I had done my errand, that I should stay awhile and help John shell a grist of yellow corn J for he wanted to go to mill at sunrise next morning. So down I sat on a little wooden bench at one end of the warming-pan handle, which was put through the ears of a wash-tub, and shelled away bravely. But all the time I was at work, Rachel was pulling ray ears, and throwing kernels of corn at me, and showing her white teeth and sweet lips and eyes around me, until my ears and cheeks burnt, my eyes were swimming with love, and my head and heart felt so mixed up together that they have never got unravelled since." Another one said that these yarns about love were always coming up around the windlass, and he hoped they would be hauled in, and stowed away soon, for it was quite enough to remember one's girl and poor old mother thousands of miles away when obliged to ; and that this way of bringing them into every watch, and harrowing up one's feelings, was worse than being strung up at the yardarm every twelve hours : as he said this, he turned away, and wiped his moist cheek on the sleeve of his pea-jacket. On the 11th, we lay along the Cape. The contour of the land was distinctly visible. The mountains rise in arid grandeur, rough volcanic cinders, red and desolate. They are curiously piled. Huge mountains sprout from the main masses, and hang over wooded jungles a thousand feet below. Turrets rise on turrets like giant castles of an olden land They are an irregular, unstratified, ugly, desolate confusion of rocks and dust. On the 12th, we lay six miles SE. of the point of the Cape. We had a fine view of both shores of the Gulf of California for fifty miles. The scenery was ex- tremely interesting. The eastern Cape shore was much like the western. The eastern shore of the Gulf, the edge of the Mexican main, was sublime. Not so much so on account of its massiveness or its alt^^ude, as its resemblance to a conti- ! THAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIA S. 411 The nent of continuous cities, interspersed with groves, general aspect was dreary. On the 13th, a light breeze from the south bore us along about three knots the hour. The Gulf shores opened wider as we advanced. High mountains rose on the main in the NE. The coasts of the Gulf are said to be mountainous up to the mouth of the Colorado of the West. In the evening the mountains on the Mexican side were lighted up with immense fires — some of them resembled those of volcanoes ; others, the raging flames among the firs and pines of the Green Mountains ; others, the deep glow of the log heaps of the American fallows. On the fourteenth we sailed across the mouth of the Cali- fornian Gulf or sea of Cortes, and at night-fall lay in full view of the rocky islands around the anchorage of Mazatlan. Cape San Lucas had faded away in the northern horizon near sun- set, and I confess I regretted to know that I should probably see its hills and plains no more ; but a reflection upon the des- tiny of the Californias took the place of such sorrow. That country must become a constituent member in the great broth- erhood of American Nations. As a maritime country it is unequalled on the western coast of America ; indeed I should say, it is not approached in this respect by any country border- ing on the Pacific seas. The harbors of San Quintin in Latitude 30^ 23' N., San Diego in Latitude 33° N., and San Francisco in Latitude 37*^ N., afford secure anchorage for the navies of the civilized world, and every desirable facility for erecting wharves, docks and arsenals. These indenting a country capable of sustain- ing thirty-five millions of people, with the healthiest cUmatc on the continent, affording abundance of live oak and other materials, without stint, for the construction and rigging of vessels, and a rich soil bearing on the same acre the fruits of the tropical and the temperate zones ; with the greatest possi- ble facilities for commercial intercourse with the eastern shores of the Russian Empire, China, India, Australia, and the Ha- 62 i 412 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. waiian, and other Islands of the Pacific, as well as the whole western coast of America, indicate the Californias as the seat of the ruling maritime power of that half of the world. But there are other reasons for this opinion. A canal can easily be cut from the head of steamboat navigation on the San Joaquim to the head waters of the Gulf of California. This, for warlike and commercial purposes, would be invalua- ble. Another circumstance, however, is of more value than any I have named in forming an estimate of the undeveloped greatness of this charming country. It is the intellectual and physical might of the people who are to inhabit it. In order to indicate what race this is to be, we need only refer to the facts, that the navigable waters of the Missouri River are within six hundred miles of Puget's Sound : that a railroad of that length will send the commerce of the Indies, China, and the Californias into the Mississippi valley, and send the inhabitants of that valley to the Californias ; and that Nature herself has connected that country with the States by an excellent natural road. This route from the San Joaquim to the plains of the Mis- souri is not only feasible but easy. A Mr. Yunt, from Frank- lin, in the State of Missouri, and now a resident of Upper California, travelled from the Great Salt Lake to Monterey with loaded mules in thirty days. From this lake to the navi- gable waters of the San Joaquim is not more than three hun- dred and fifty miles, with plenty of wood, water and grass the whole distance. The high range of mountains between the San Joaquim and Mary's river can be passed in six hours. There is a low gap, pathway leading through it. The route from this gap leads up Mary's river to the forks ; thence up the east fork, and over the plains, to the Pont Neuf branch of the Saptin ; thence through a gap in the mountains to Big Bear river at the Soda Springs ; thence up Bear river and over the plains to the Rendezvous on the Sheetskadee ; thence over the plains to the Sweetwater branch of the north fork of r TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIA 8. 413 Great Platte ; thence down that river to its entrance into the Missouri. Along this track population must go westward. No one acquainted with the indolent, mixed race of California, will ever believe that they will populate, much less, for any length of time, govern the country. The law of Nature which curses the mulatto here with a constitution less robust than that oi either race from which he sprang, lays a similar penalty upon the mingling of the Indian and white races in California and Mexico. They must fade away ; while the mixing of different branches of the Caucasian family in the States will continue to produce a race of men, who will enlarge from period to pe- riod the field of their industry and civil domination, until not only the Northern States of Mexico, but the Californias also, will open their glebe to the pressure of its unco; quered arm. The old Saxon blood must stride the continent, must command all its northern shores, must here press the grape and the olive, here eat the orange and fig, and in their own unaided might, erect the altar of civil and religious freedom on the plains of the Californias. Mazatlan ; we anchored in the roads, and having passed a day and two nights with Mr. Parrot, our worthy consul, and another American who was addicted to aristocracy and smug- gling, we bade adieu to Captain Paty and his Don Quixote, to Messrs. Johnson and Chamberlain, and sailed for San Bias in the schooner Gertrudes, formerly the Honduras of the Hawaiian Isles. On the sixteenth we anchored along side the prison-ship in the roads of San Bias, and had the pleasure of knowing that none of our countrymen iiad perished on the passage. They had suffered greatly from thirst and hunger ; but they lived ; and that to us and to them was cause of the deepest gratitude. Forty-six Americans and Britons in chains ! — in the chains of Californian Spaniards ! Will not the day come when vengeance will be repaid 1 During the afternoon and the night following day we rode sixty miles to the city of Tepic, and laid the case of these pris- i 1 11 i\ 5| 414 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC oners before the American and British consuls, who rendered them all the aid and protection which tiieir situation required. They were, however, again tried and condemned to perpetual imprisonment upon an island in a mountain lake of Mexico. But Mr. Consul Barron — a nobler man never lived — saved them. Graham returned to California a broken-spirited, ruin- ed man. The others are dispersed elsewhere. Our Govebm MENT HAS NEVER AVENGED THEIR WRONGS ! After tarrying a week at Tepic, we took leave of the gene reus spirits who had succored the unfortunate men that had suffered under the tyranny of Californian misrule, and mounted our mules on a journey across what is called the Republic of Mexico. Our first point of destination was Guadalaxara. The country between these two cities was found very uneven and generally sterile ; not one twentieth of it being susceptible of cultivation. The general aspect of the soil is that of a reddish dust, encumbered with volcanic rocks ; and the whole broken at intervals with mountain peaks, dry river beds, and <5raters of extinct volcanoes, usually sunken far below the general surface of the country. Guadalaxara is a town of about seventy thousand souls — I believe I am right in sug- gesting that its inhabitants have souls. At all events, they support priests enough to warrant a presumption to that effect. The whole city swarms with the scoundrels. This latter term is particularly applicable to those of thr>m who forget their vows of chastity, and raise large families of illegitimate chil- dren. I understood there wore some that did not practise this mode of social life ; but did not see them. From Guadalax- ara we travelled to Queretero. The country between these pjaccs is quite similar to that between Tepic and Guadalaxara. It :s however more elevated, studc'ed with more raouptains, and less broken by ravines. Queretero contains about sixty thousand souls. The people, like those in Tepic and Guada- laxara, are little else than partially bleached Indians. There are not white people enough to fill the public offices. We next travelled to Mexico. The country along this part of our I- r.^~" TRAVELS IN THE CALIF0KNIA8. 41b journey became raorc and more elevated and beautiful as we advanced, till, on a bright afternoon of June, we halted on the heights to view the old home of Monltzuma, and the country far ai i wide in all directions around us. It was an entranc- ing sight ! The green fields lay near, and southward the circle of smoking and snow-clad mountains which environ the vale —-the lakes — and the city of Mexico ! Our mules rushed down the mountains — our coach rattled on the cai^eway where Cortez' men fell before the arrows of the Children of the Sun ; our feet trode the great square, where Montezuma per- ished, and we took lodgings near the site of his great temple ! We tarried in Mexico a week — looked at the steel armor of Cortez — the old Indian bracelets and nose-rings — the present Indian population — El Presidente Bustamente — and were most kindly and hospitably entertained by persons whom it will ever be matter of regret to me that 1 shall so seldom see again. From Mexico to Perote is one day's ride over an elevated frosty country, partly clad with pine trees, but generally consisting of hard clayey plains, sparsely dotted with grass, between which tower immense tracts of lofty mountains. Perote is a sort of fortification, with a few houses in the vicinity ; the grand rendezvous of the Banditti. From Perote to Jalappa is another day's travel. The last part of the way is down the eastern side of mountains of great height, and covered with shining lava — and in the very track of Cortez. Jalappa is a pretty town on the sloping mountain side, with a sweet climate— sweet pineapples — coffee plan- tations—and orange groves. Fourteen days we spent here, and then took coach for Vera Cruz. This town, founded by Cortez, consists of a cluster of hne houses built on a sandy plain at the sea-side. It has a pretty good roadstead before it, which is protected from some of the winds by a small island half a mile from the shore, on which is a fortress. Vera Cruz is a nest of black vomit and black- egs— and we left it in a day or two for Tampico, two days' sail up the coast. 416 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. This latter town is beautifully situated six or seven miles up the Rio de Panuco. Here we remained thirteen days, when, with Arista's permission, we sailed for New Orleans. The green woods — the rushing floods of my native land ! I saw ye of a stormy night, when I came from the desert, and the stormy seas. With a heart full of joy I ascended the I a TiiER OF Waters to the holy and blooming plains of my Prai- rie Home — to wife — and the graves of those I loved, among the trees at Prairie Lodge ! And now, as the reminiscences of my wanderings are coming up before me like the fresh leaves of spring when the winter is gone, I marvel at tbs human soul, that it can look back on the mingled scenes of suffering and bliss with so much delight. The thorn thai wounded us is forgotten, while the rose that bore it, is the ever-present emblem of beauty and joy. To have seen the Indian in his native costume — in his wigwam — in all his na- tional habits of act and thought ; to have seen the flowers — the animals — the streams — the mountains and the heavens over them — on the broad expanse of the North American wilderness, is a source of peculiar satisfaction. Not, indeed, on account of any merit which may appear to attach to the performance of such a journey, but oecause of the aliment which it has furnished to the mind ; the knowledge it has given of the beautiful world on which we live ! — its grandeur — its infinite range of beautiful forms — and its smiling pro- mises to man. And if my readers do but learn somewhat of these things from the descriptions I have given, and derive therefrom somewhat of the enjoyment which fills my heart while I write of them, the author will be pleased with the results of his labors. CONQUEST OF CALIFORNIA -,-_. ^ "5. I p ! CONQUEST OF CALIFORNIA. In the month of June, 1845, a secret and confidential dispatch was issued from the Navy Department of the Government of the United States, instructing Commo- dore Sloat to possess himself of the port of San Fran- cisco, and blockade or occupy such other ports on the western coast of Mexico, as his forces would allow, so soon as he should learn the existence of war between the United States and Mexico. Subsequent orders of a similar tenor were issued, but the first did not reach the Pacific Squadron until the latter part of August, 1846, when the orders had already been anticipated by the high-spirited oflUcers commanding on that station. Commodore Sloat received information of the com- mencement of hostilities on the Rio Grande, at Mazatlan, on the 7th of June, 1846, and he immediately sailed in the flag-ship Savannah to Monterey, where he found the United States vessels Cyane and Levant. On the 7th of July, he summoned the Governor of the town to sur- render, and on his declining to do so, it was taken by a detachment of two hundred and fifty seamen and marines from the vessels. They speedily raised the Star-spangled banner from the custom house, and it was saluted by the squadron, and cheered by its followers and the assem- bled crowd. A proclamation, stating the existence of the war, and his intention to conquer California, and 430 CONQUEST OF CALIFORNIA. promising them the superior advantages afforded by the Constitution, laws and resources of the United States, without moleslation in their persons, property, or reli- gion, if they would remain peaceable and quiet. Under the orders of the commodore. Captain Montgomery, with seventy sailors and marines of the United States sloop of war Portsmouth, landed at the settlement of Yerba Buena, in the bay of San Francisco, and took possession of that place. On the 1 1th of July, Captain Montgomery informed the commodore that the American flag was flying at Yerba Buena, at Sutter's Fort, or New Helvetia, on the Sacramento, at Bodega, on the coast, and at Sonoura ; and added, that the protection of persons and property, which the American flag promised to the land and the people, was hailed with joy by the people, some of whom had enrolled themselves into a new company, under the auspices of the American officers, styled '* The Volunteer Guards of Yerba Buena." Meanwhile, Captain Fremont, the most daring and persevering of travellers, had had an opportunity of par- ticipating in the glory of adding this new realm to the territory of the United States. He had left Washington in 1845, to make a third expedition for scientific pur- poses to the regions west of the Rocky Mountains, and his provisions for the journey contemplated only its legitimate objects. He approached the settlernenis in California about the beginning of the year 1846, and as he was aware of the difficulties existing between his own Government and that of Mexico, he determined to be very circumspect in his conduct. He had but sixty men with him, and though these were not soldiers, he left them on the frontiers, while he advanced alone a hundred miles to Monterey, where he visited the principal officers of the Government, in company with the United States Consul, Mr. Larkin. He informed them of his expe- dition and its purposes, and Governor Castro gave him I I, 1 1 I ; ■ JotomI Fremont. — Page 421, CONQUEST OF CALIFORNIA. 4'J! pcnn'.v.vr.n to spend the vvinter in the valley nf S;in Joa- quin, uhore was grass for his horses mid giirne for his men. He crime b.-vck to them and led them to tlio pliirc designated, but he had hardly jeached it, before he wjis ordered out of the country by the governor, who thretif- ened him with forcible ejection if ho disobeyed the com- mand. He determined to rely upon the permission given him in person to remain there; and the governor mtidc great preparations to drive him away. Of these he was informed by the United Slates Consul, whom he answered by a note, stating that his men had hoisted tlie American Hag, and that they would stnnd by it, if unjustly attacked, so long as a man remained. The Mexiciui authorities requested and received a translation of Colonel Fre- mont's note, from the consul, and though they continued their preparations for an attack within sight of the hill on which the colonel was encamped, they took especial care not to crowd him too closely. Well versed in international law, however, and desirous not to embroil his nation in difliculli.^s, Colonel Fremont determined to abandon his mission and return to the United States, rather than continue it against the oppo- sition of the Californian authorities. On the 10th of March, he moved quietly out of his encampment, and retired townrds Oregon slowly and growlingly, followed some distance by General Castro with four hundred men, and three cannons. The valiant governor, having escorted him to a safe distance, came back to Monterey, bringing with him some old clothes and two pack saddles, all thrown away as useless when Fremont struck his tents. These were paraded as trophies, and the governor an- nounced in a flaming placard, that a band of highway- men, under Captain Fremont, of the United States Army. had come into his Department, but that he had cliMsed them out with two hundred patriots, and sent them into the back country. Colonel Fremont found that his 422 CONQUEST OF CAMFOHNIA. intended return to the United States, by the way nf Oregon, would be a matter of impossibility, as Governor Castro had stirred up the Indians against him, j)articu- hirly the Hamath tribe, who killed and woundetl several of his men in a night attack. Two days after, they had another fight with the same tribe, and burnt one of their villages. It was at this time that Fremont saved Car- son's life, as an Indian was about killing him. Colonel Fremont now saw that if he persevered in his route, he would have to fight almost every mile of his way, besides marching over mountains on which the snow was still falling ; and, although he and his men were suflTering from cold, fatigue and famine, he remained for some days deliberating upon the proper course to pursue. Gover- nor Castro was known to be assembling troops on the north bank of San Francisco bay, for the avowed purpose of attacking him and the American settlers in California. With all the facts before him, he came to the determination to turn upon his pursuers, and fight ihem at all odds, hoping thus to overturn the existing Government, and secure the safety of his own men and the American settlers. General Castro and his patriots learned his determi'. ition when he struck the first blow, by surprising, on the Mtli of June, an officer and four- teen men, who were taking a drove of two hundred horses to the Californian camp. The men were released, the horses retained. At day-break, on the 5th, the military rendezvous and intended head-quarters was surprised by the gallant little band, who captured nine pieces of brass cannon, two hundred and fifty muskets, and other arms and ammunition ; a general, a colonel, a captain and other off •'^ers. The gallant colonel detailed fourteen of his little parly as a garrison for this post, and marched to the Rio de los Americanos, to obtain aid from the American settlers. An express came after him, with information that a large force was approaching Sonoura, w CONQUEST OF CALIFORNIA 423 under General Castro. On the afiernom of the -'3il of June, he set out with ninety mounted men, and reached Sonnura, after a march of eighty miles, on the morning of the 2r>th, where he had a fight with the vanguard of Castro's army, under De la Torre, which was routed by twenty Americans. De la Torre caught two of Colonel Fremont's "len going on an express, and his patriots cut them to pieces with their knives, an outrage which was retaliated by the execution of three of De la Torre's men, who were captured. The vigor of Colonel Fremont, so ably seconded by his gallant followers, having cleared the north side of the bay of San Francisco of all the Californian " patriots," the colonel called the Americans together at Sonoura, exposed to them their dangerous situation, and recom- mended to them, as the only means of safety, a declara- tion of independence, and war upon Castro and his troops. The independence was proclaimed immediately, July 4, 1846. The war followed. On the 13th of July, Commodore Sloat furnished a flag to the foreigners of the pueblo of San Jose, a place seventy miles interior from Monterey. He had com- pleted the organization of a company of thirty-five dra- goons, made up of volunteers from the ships and citizen?, which was intended to keep open the communication by land beiween the different places held by the Americans. Purser Fauntleroy commanded this corps, and came with it, on the 17th of July, as far as the mission of St. Johns, intending to take that place, and recover ten brass guns said to have been buried there by the Mexicans, some- time previously. He found Colonel Fremont in posses- sion of the place, and joyfully invited him to partake further of the glory and labor of the conquest, which had been begun by the commodore, and so ably seconded by himself. The two officers returned in company to Monterey on the 19th of July, while the people of the s-a 434 CONQUEST O i C A L I F O 11 N 1 A . m new republic, hearing of the doiiiirs ofCoinni'jd.iro Si;;at, oveitnnied their young government l)y huisling llic American flair. At tiie time of meeting Purser Fauntle- roy, Colonel Fremont increased his force to a hundred and fifty riflemen, and was in pursuit of Tastro, who had fled south at the head of four or five hundred men. Commodore Sloat soon after resirrned the connnand to Commodore Stockton, and returned to the United States, to recruit ins enfeebled health. Commodore Stockton commenced his part of the conquest, by organ- izing the "CaHfornia battalion of Mounted Riflemen," appointing their olFicers, and receiving them into the service of the LTnited States. Colonel Fremont sailed WMth this battalion to San Diego, in the hope of getting in advance of General Castro, and cutting ofl'liis retreat. He arrived there on the 20th of July, but the Cnhfor- niaii:- had driven ofl" all the horses, and he was not able in consequence to move until the 8th of August. Com- nif/dore Stockton, meanwhile, had sailed to San Tedro, where he landed a sailor-army of three hundred and sixty men from the frigate (Congress, This force he led towards the camp of the Meza, a fortified position held by General Castro, three miles from Cuidad de los An- geles, the City of the Angels, and the capital of the Californias. On the approach of the sons of Neptui.j, the martial governor abandoned his cami), and his gas- conading patriots separated into small parties, and ran away in all directions; the governor himself making good his esc.po to Mexico. Colonel Fremont joined the commodore on ihe 15th of August, and the combined forces entered the City of the An^ els, and took posses- sion of the Covernment-hcuse. Here Commodore Stock- ton busied himself posting a proclamation, and endeav- oring to establish a government, while Colonel Fremont was absent on an expedition after Governor Castro, whom he vainly sought to capture, tlia* he might oblairi CONQUEST OF CALIFORNIA 425 an apology for being called a bandit, in the Insulting proclamation posted by Castro, when his patriots drove Fremont to Oregon. The commodore directed Colonel Fremont to increase his force and post it in garrisons in the different places. Fifty were to be placed in the city of the Angels under Captain Gillespie, fifty at Monterey, fifty at San Fran- cisco, and twenty-five at Snnta Barbara. He embarked for San Francisco to recruit, making in the meanwhile a temporary disposition of his forces. During his absence, on the 23d of September, a Californian army invested the City of the Angels, and by their superior numbers caused Captain Gillespie to surrender the city. He marched with his force to San l*edro, and there embarked for Monterey. The gallant youth who commanded at Santa Barbara, Lieutenant Talbot, was next attacked, but not so easily got rid of. He had nine men under his com- mand, and with these he held the town until he was completely besieged. Determined not to surrender, he evacuated the place, made his way through the enemy to the mountains of the vicinity, and remained there, suf- fering from oold and hunger, eight days, constantly soli- cited by the enemy to surrender. A detachment of forty men advanced to take him, but was driven back. They then offered to permit him to retire if he would pledge himself and his men to neutrality during the war, but he boldly replied that he preferred to fight. He re- mained like a tiger in his lair, until they set fire to the' ■j:rass and bushes around him and burned him out. He then commenced a march of five hundred miles to Mon- terey afoot, where his arrival caused the utmost joy to all the Americans, with whom he was a great favorite, and who had been informed by the Californians that he and his men were all slain. Colonel Fremont had made an effort to go from San Francisco to the relief of Captain Gillespie, but he was ^fl * 1 420 CUNC^UEST OF (.^ A L t t U H N I A . driven back to Monterey by bud weather, altei being at sea twenty-nine days. A party of fifty-seven Americans under Captains Burrows and Thompson were attacked by a party of Californians, and Captain Barrows ami three men slain. Colonel Fremont marched to their as- sistance, and the whole party arrived at San Fernando on the 11th of January, 1847. While these events were passing in California, General Kearney was on his way from the United States with a force intended to capture that (sountry. On his way he had met Kit Carson, bearing an account of the capture of the city of the Angels by (yommodor*) Stockton and Colonel Fremont, and he had therefore sent back the greater part of his troops. On the 5th of Df^cember he met Captain Gillespie coming with a small party of vo lunteers to give him information of the state of the coun- try. The Captain informed him that at San ^*asqual, three leagues distant, an armed part/of Ca i? -'". . was posted with a number of extra horses. He marchfid i pon them with an advanced party of twelve dragoons anv-i twenty volunteers ; a desperate fight ensued, which had well nigh proved fatal to the Americans, at one time, their line becoming scattered by the ^rry condition of the animals n which some of them were mounted. Geu- eral Kearney himself was wounded in two places, Cap- tain Gillespie and Lieutenant Warner each in three, anci Captain Gibson and eleven others were also wounded, having from two to ten marks of lar ;es on their persons. Captain Johnston, Captain Moore, Lieutenant Hammond, two serieants, two corporals, and eleven privates, and man attached to the topographical department, were sla?a Two howitzers had been taken into the action, but were not used until its close, when the mules attached to one of them became frightened and ran aw ' 'ith it directly into the enemy's linos. The severe wounds of the actors ia this tight caused the march of the army to be delayed. General Kearny. — Page 426. U.> k III CONQUEST OF CALIFORNIA. 427 and it did not reach San Diego until the 12th of De- cember. When Captain Stockton heard of the outbreak of the inhabitants, he sent tiie frigate Savannah to the reliet of Captain Gillespie at the City of the Angels, but she came too late. Three hundred and twenty men of the crew landed and marched towards the city, but the Cali- fornians met them, well appointed with fine horses and artillery, and the gallant sailors were compelled to retire, after sustaining a battle with their small arms on foot against greatly superior numbers. TJiey lost eleven in killed and wounded. Commodore Stockton himself sailed to San Pedro in the Congress, and made another march upon the City of the Angels with a sailor army, which now took some of the ship's cannons with them, dragged by hand with ropes. A battle was fought at the Rancho Sepulrida, where the commodore decoyed the enemy in- to a proper position, and then opened upon them with the guns which had been hidden from their view. One hun- dred killed, more than that number wounded, a hundred taken prisoners, and the whole force of the enemy routed and put to flight, were the immediate results ot the fight. Among its other advantages was that of furnishing the sailors, who had heretofore fought only on foot, with the means of rapid transportation from place to place. As soon as they were mounted on the captured horses, a se- ries of skirmishes was commenced, in which they dis- played the utmost courage and activity. General Kear- ney's arrival increased the prospect of a speedy termina- tion of the war, and he and the commodore at once laid a plan for its further prosecution. On the 29th of De- cember the army, composed of sixty dismounted dragoons, fifty California Volunteers, and four hundred marines and sailors started on the march from San Diego to the City of the Angels. At the Rio San Gabriel they found the enemy in strong position, prepared to dispute its passage. 428 CONQUEST OF CALIFOliNIA. The battle was tbuglit on the 8tli of January, 1617, tlie anniversary of the battle of New Orleans. The Ameri- cans waded through the water dragghig their guns after them, under a galling fire from the small arms and can- non of the enemy. They reserved their own fire until they reached the opposite side of the river, where they drove back the enemy, and then charged up the bank. After a fight of an hour and a half they succeeded in driving the enemy from the field. They encamped there over night. The enemy made another stand on the plains of the Meza, in the hope of saving the capital, but they were again driven from the field, and on the lOth the American army entered the capital in triumph. They had lost one private killed, and thirteen of their number wounded in the two fights. The enemy carried off their dead, but it was considerable, according to General Kearney, and Commodore Stockton estimates it at more than seventy. The insurgents fled, and surrendered to Colonel Fremont, who met them as he was approaching the City of the Angels, on the 13th of January. The territory now became quiet. The arrival of the battalion raised among the Mormon emigrants to California, and taken into the service of the United States by General Kearney, enabled him to pro- vide against the receipt of any reinforcements from the Mexican province of Sonoura to the Californ'ans, by sta- tioning them as a guard and garris(jn at the mission of San Luis Rey. Captain Tompkins arrived in the country in February with his company of U. S. Artillery, and was stationed at Monterey, and the arrival of Colonel Stevenson, with his regiment of New York Volunteers, formed such a force as was considered suificient to over' awe all disaffection and opposition. In July three companies of the New York regiment were stationed at La Paz in Lower California, under Lieutenant-Colonel Burton. Tiiey numbered about one L 'f'^y^'s CONQUEST OP CALIFORNIA. 429 hundred men with two pieces of artillery. The U. S sloop of war Dale cruized for some time in the vicinity, and aiforded protection to the garrison in La Paz, but Commodore Shubrick ordered the Dale to Guaymas, and cut him off from all assistance and means of escape in case he was attacked. The enemy collected their whole disposable force and marched against this little garrison. The battle was begun on the morning of the 16th at two o'clock, a loud roll of musketry followed by shouts, giv- ing the sleeping soldiers of the garrison the first notice of an enemy's approach. The Americans stood to their posts amid a shower of bullets, although the night was so dark that they could only tell the presence of the foe by the flashing of the musketry. They brought their cannon to bear in the direction of the enemy's position, and a few discharges was followed by a complete silence. At daybreak the enemy was seen to be posted on a hill a qiarter of a mile distant, waiting until the women and children had been removed from the tov/n to renew the attack. The garrison availed themselves of the pause to fortify the roofs of their quarters with bales of cotton yarn. The enemy gained possession of some thick cac- tus bushes surrounding the camp, and kept up a heavy fire from nine o'clock unJ;il night. They could not be seen except when the flash of their guns displayed their presence, and all the stratagems of the garrison failed to induce them to come nearer. The Americans had one man killed. In the afternoon the enemy entered the town and burned the houses of all 'vho had been favor- able to the Americans. They suffered for this barbarity, however, on their return from its perpetration, for as they passed a low hill in front of the American barracks, a fire of grape and canister was opened upon them, which spread death among the ranks and drove them back. The next day passed in mnc!i the same manner, the Ameri- cans improving each cessation in the fighting to strength- I I ;; ■ 4S0 CONQUEST OF CAMFORNIA. eii tlieir works. A luimber of small houses wliicli ol)- stiMcted the rantie ot'tfieir cannons were binned, and for scv<'nil days things remained in ne.arly tlie same stale. (^11 the 2t)th. the enemy drafTired a piece of artillery ti» a dilapidated huildina^ called the old Quartel. the most riniimandini,^ site in the town. A hot lire then cum- mencred on both sides, and the enemy came quite close to :he works at dusk, and lirod steadily until oii^ht o'lrluck in the evening. On the following morning Captain Stell led a small party against the party working the piece in the old Quartel, surprised them, killed six, and carried oft' their flag, which was immediately inverted under the star-spangled b:umer ol' the garrison. The enemy then left the town, and distributed themselves in the neighborhood to cut oft' supplies from the Atnericans. Meanwhile, a party of one hundred and fitly Mexicans approached San Jose, where Lieutenant Heywood was posted wj^h twenty men and one nine pounder. They demanded a surrender on the 20th of November, and when that was refused, a heavy firing was commenced, which continued all night and the following day. On the night of the second day a grand assault was made. The leader of the enemy, Mejares, led forty men against the front, while a hundred men with scaling ladders came upon the rear. The nine pounder opened upon the va- liant general, killed him and three of his men, and drove the rest back in confusion. The gun was then turned upon the party in the rear, and they too were at once dispersed. A firing was kept up until the morning, when two American whalers entered the harbor and sent fifty men on shoi-e. The enemy mistaking them for men of war, fled in haste towards La Paz. By the terms of the treaty of peace between the two governments, the boundary line was made to run along the southern boundary of New Mexico to its westward termination, thence northwardly along the western line THE 00 ni) HEOIONSi 4ni of New Afexico until it intersects the first branch of the river Gil;i, thence down the niiddio of siiid hrnnch nnd of the said river until it empties into the Rio Colorado, followinjT the division line between Upfior and Lower Calit'ornia to the ocivm. Under this treaty the American forces abandoned the posts they held in Lower (Jalilornia, and the territory ol'the upper province rapidly fdlini,' >ip with emigrants from the United States, bids lair to be- . The Columbia river where the Cowlitz joins it, is a broad (lowinf^ stream, and may bo readily navigated by canoes. At this point is a high conical bill, which has iKjen used as a burial-place by the Indians. The re- mains of manv of their coflins scattered over the surface caused the trappers to give it the name Mount Coffin. The explorations of ('aptain Freemont have proved that the (yolumbia stands alone as the only great river on the Pacific slope of our continent, which leads from the ocean to the Rocky Mountains, and opens a lino of communication from the sea to the valley of the Missis- sippi. Its northern branch rises in the Rocky Mountains in 50° N. Lat. and 110" W. Long, and thence runs by a northern route to near McGillivray's I'ass in the Rocky Mountains. Here it is three thousand six hundred feet above the level of the sea. Receiving the waters of Canoe river, it turns south, proceeding to Fort Colville, receiving by the way many tributaries, among which are the Kootanie or Flat Row, and the Flat Head, or Clark's river. Between McGillivray's Pass and Fort .Colville, a distance of two hundred and twenty miles, its level has fallen five hundred and fifty feet. This part of its course is surrounded by high mountains, among which it often expands into a line of lakes. A little south of Colville, it turns to the west, receiving Spokan river from the east. Sixty miles from this bend, its course is again changed to the south, and its waters augmented \t il 444 TRAVELS IN CXKOON, NO. 1 by receiving the OkAnagiin river, which comes from a line of hikes extensively susceptible of canoe naviijiition. The Columbia now passes to the sonthwani as far as Wallawalla, 45° N. Lat.. where it is joined by the Sap- lin or Lewis's river. This is a stream five hundred and twenty miles long from its rise in the Ko(;ky Mountains to its junction with the ('(»lumbia. It receives many branches from the east and west, the principal of which are the Koo; kooske and the Salmon rivers. The num- ber of rapids in Lewis's river niake it very dangerous for canoe navigation. Its lalls form one of the greatest natural beauties of Oregon. They are thus described by Colonel Fremont : "The vertical fall is perhaps eighteen feet high, and nearer the sheet of foaming water is divided and broken into cataracts, were several little islands on the brink and in the river above, give it much picturesque beauty, and make it one of those places the traveller turns again and again to lix in his memory. There were several lodges of Indians here, from whom we traded salmon. Below this place the river makes a remarkablo bend, and tlie road ascending the ridge gave us a line view of the river below, intersected at many places by numerous (ish dams. In the north about (ifly miles distant, were S(ij;e high snowy peaks of the Salmon river mountains; and in the north-east the last peak of the range was visible at the distance of perhaps one hundred miles or more. The river hills consist of very broken masses of sand, covered everywhere with the same interminable fields of sage, and occasionally the road is very heavy. We now fre- quently saw Indians who were strung along the river at every little rapid where fish are to be caught, and the cry " haggai, haggai," was constantly heard whenever we passed near their huts or met them in the road. Very many of them were oddly and partially dressed in over- coat, shirt, waistcoat or pantaloons, or whatever article ^ s ^ ? a' O s I 1 'I< TRAVELS IN OREGON, NO. 1 445 of clothing they have been able to procure in trade from the emigrants; for we had now entirely quitted the country where hawks' bills, beads and vermillion were the current coin, and found that here only useful articles, and chiefly clothing, were in great request. These, however, are eagerly sought after, 5ind for a few trifling pieces of clothing, travellers may procure food suflicient to carry them to the Columbia. " We made a long stretch across the upper plain, and encamped on the bluff where the grass was very green and good, the soil of the upper plains containing a con- siderable proportion of calcareous matter. This green freshness of the grass was very remarkable for the sea- son of the year. Again we heard the roar of the fall in the river below, where the water in an unbroken volume goes over a descent of several feet." At Wallawalla the Columbia is still one thousand two hundred and eighty-sis feet above the sea-level, and is three thousand five hundred feet wide. Turning to the westward it now pursues a rapid course for eighty miles, and then enters the Cascade Mountains, where a series of falls and rapids make its canoe navigation only prac- ticable by portages. Before entering these mountains, it receives from the south the Umatilla, Quisnel's, John Day's and Chute rivers, and from the north Cathlatate's river. Forty miles of still-water navigation are afforded from the rapids of the Cascade Mountains to the next series of similar obstructions, and to these last succeed a hundred and twenty miles of navigation to the ocean. "Vessels drawing twelve feet of water can pass through this part of the river, although numerous sand bars ren- der the navigation somewhat unsafe. So recently as 1819, the lower part of this river and its precise outlet were unknown. For two-thirds of the year its entrance is impracticable, and it is equally dang- erous to leave it. The greatest portion of the valuable '1 40 T II A V R r, f» r N OttttdO N , N <» . 1 hnrlxn'H of the (onilory .no witliin llin Slraits of jii;iiir(^ iIh"! lui'^'csf. v«!Hh«iIh c.iiii fj;o Hiifoly. 'I'Ih; rsc iiiid liill of tlui \u\{'n is (•i;L,'lil(!ni fort. In nlhMnptiii;; to cross llu; hiir of llio ( 'oliiiiibjii iliver, noiikiUiik! alUw liis jiniv.il tMi till* (w»!iH(, (.;,i|»l)iin VVilkos lost oik; of thi! vessels of iIk; I'lXploiiiiif Expedition, 'riuit olfieor s.iys, nierti (l(>scri|»lioii <;!iii j^iv(5 litllo idea of tlio (orrois of llic l>;ir of the ('oIiimiImu. All wli(» liavo sueti it have, spoken of tlxa wiidiKiss of tliu kouiiu, and tliu inees.sant rouv oi ihu vvat(M'H. repruseuliup; it an one of t,hu iiiosl fearful siirjits that <'-iin powsihly meet thn oyo of the sailor. The dilliciilly «d° ils (*haniiels. the (liHtaucu of the loatlin;^ .ii:ic(|iiainted with tluiiii, the want of knowled.ife ol" the H'.ren^tli and direc- tion oo fishery was at its height, and formed a novel and amusing scene. The salmon leap the fall ; and it would be inconceivable, if not actually witnessed, how they can force themselves up, and after a leap of from ten to twelve feet, retain strength enough to stem the force of the water above. About one in ten ot those who jumped would succeed in getting by. They are seen to dnrt off from the foam beneath and reach about two-thirds of tlie heigiit at a single bound ; those that thus p;issed the apex of the running water, succeed ; but all that fall short are thrown back again into the foam. Captain Wilkes had never seen so many fish collecteu together betore. The Indians were constantly employed in taking them. They rig out, two strong poles long enough to project over the foaming i^auldron, and secure their larger ends to the rocks. On the other end they make a platform for the fisherman to stand on, who is perched on it with a pole, thirty feoi long in hand, to which the net is fastened by a hoop, four feet in diameter. The net is made to slide on the hoop so as to close its mouth when the fish -s taken. The mode of using the net is peculiar. They throw it into the foam as far up the stream as they can 70 J! 11 ^' I . ■ i 456 T U AV K L S IN dr. K r, O N , reach, and it l.eiin^ qiiicrkly carried down, liie fisli who arerunnin^f up in a contrary direction are caught. 8on)c- linies twenty large iish are taken by ii single person in an hour, and it is only surprising that more should not be caught. Passing above the falls. Captain Wilkes came to Champooing, where, in a log hut, he found Mr. Johnson living with his children and a wife whom he considered equal to half a dozen of the matrons of the civilized world. Cleanliness, however, was not one of her virtues, although her husband may not have accounted that as one of tlie cardinal virtues. Passing several farms of old servants of the Hudson's Bay Company, which generally appeared thriving and comfortable, Captain Wilkes vis- ited successively the Catholic and Methodist missions. Of the latter he says, it seemed an out-of-the-way place to find persons of delicate habits struggling with dilh- culties such as they have to encounter, and overcoming them with cheerfulness and good temper. Of the (iiderent settlers in the valley of the Willamette, those of French descent appeared the most happy, con- tented and comtortablc ; while those of the Anglo-Saxon race manifested the eternally going ahead principle of the American citizen. This part of the country has great advantages for raising crops, pasturage of stock, and facilities for the settlers to become rich; but there is one objection to its ever becoming a large settlement, in consequence of the interruption of the navigation of its rivers in the dry season, which renders it difficult to get t(» a market as well as to receive supplies. Returning from the Willamette, Captain Wilkes set out upon a new expedition, for the purpose of exploring the Walla walla valley and river. They set out m com- pany with one of the company's agents, Mr. Ogden, who led them first to the cascades of the Columbia, where his men astonished the Ariiericans bv their dis- TRAVELS IN OREGON, NO. 2. 457 play of strength and management in surmnnnting the rapids. In transporting the goods, the load is secured on the back of a voyageur by a band which passes rom;d the forehead and over and under the bale. He s(|uals down, adjusts his load, and rises with ninety pounds on his back ; another places ninety pounds more on top, nnd off he trots, half-bent, to the end of the portage. One man, for a wager, carried six packages weighing ninety pounds each, on his back, one hundred yards. Forty miles from the cascades they r.ime to the Dalles, near which is a Methodist mission. The Dalles may be called the Billingsgate of Oregon. The diversity of dress among the men was even greater than in the crowds of natives which Captain Wilkes saw at the Polynesian isles ; but, he says, they lack the decency and care of their persons which the islanders exhibit. The women also go nearly naked, for they wear little else than what may be termed a breechcloth of buckskin, which is black and filthy with dirt ; and some few have a piece of a blanket. The children go entirely naked, the boys wear- ing a small string round their bodies. To complete the picture of the degree of their civilization, it is only neces- sary to add that some forty or fifty live in a temporary hut, twenty feet by t\velve, constructed of poles, mats and cedar bark. The Dalles is one of the most remarkable places on the Columbia. The river is here compressed into a nar- row channel, three hundred feet wide, and half a mile long ; the walls are perpendicular, flat on the top, and composed of basalt ; the river forms an elbow, being situated in an amphitheatre, extending several miles to the north-west, and c. ad in by a high basaltic wall. Be- sides the main channel, there are four or five other small canals, through which the water passes when the water is high ; these are but a few feet across. The river falls about fiftv feet in the distance of two miles, l.:_ -V ■1 11 II ''I i ti i i i<^ n 1 i53 TRAVELS IN OREGON, NO. 2 and the greatest rise between high and low water mark is sixty feet. This great rise is caused by the accumu- lation of water in the river above, which is dammed by this narrow pass, and is constantly increasing until it backs the waters, and overflows many low grounds and islands above. A tremendous roar is constantly heard, caused by the violence of the river .and its whirlpools and eddies. The number of Indians within the Dalles is reckoned at about two thousand. In but few of these, however, has any symptoms of reform manifested itself. They frequent the three great salmon fisheries of the Columbia; the Cascade?, the Dalles and the Chutes rapids some distance further up the river. From the Dalles upwards all along the Columbia to Wallawalla, there was only one tree seen growing, and except a log or trunk occasionally drifting down, nothing larger than a splinter of wood was seen. The wood used for cook- ing was brought there by the Indians, who would follow the party for miles with a long pole or a billet of wood, which they exchanged for a small piece of tobacco. The country upwards continued to be as far as could be seen, on both sides of the Columbia a barren and sterile waste, covered with white sand, mixed with pebbles, producing nothing but a little grass, some hard wood and a species of small cactus, filled with lung, white, hard and sharp spires. On approaching Wallawalla, the scenery changes into bold grandeur. Fantastic peaks arise, either isolated or in groups. Through a pass in the river which flows rapidly through volcanic rocks, the wind rushes with great violence in summer to restore the equilibrium in the rarified atmosphere above. Nez Perce, or Fort Wallawalla, is about two hundred feet square, and fenced in with pickets having a gallery erected within, along the walls, so high as to enable those inside to over- look the pickets and observe the surrounding country s ^\ TRAVK I, S IN OltEGON, NO. 2. 459 . The party of Americans went as far as tlie Grande Rondc, a plain or mountain prairie, surrounded by high basaltic walls. It is called by the Indians Karpkarp, which is translated into Balm of Gilead. Its direction from Wallawalla is east-south-east, and the road to the United States passes through it. It is fifteen miles long by twelve wide, and is the place where the Cayuse, Nez Perce and Wallawalla Indians meet to trade with the Snakes or Shoshones for roots, skin lodges, elk and buf- falo meat, in exchange for salmon and horses. The Grande Ronde is likewise resorted to for the large quan- tities of camass root that grows there, and whifch consti- tutes a favorite food with all the Indians. The mission- aries at this place have quite a number of cattle and horses, which require little or no attention, there being an abundance of hay and grass. On the banks of the Wallawalla timber re-appears, chiefly poplar, willow, birch and alder, There seems to be a peculiarity about the climate of Wallawalla not re- dily accounted for. Little winter weather is experienced here, the mildness being attributable to the bot winds of the south, which sweep along from the extensive sandy deserts existing in Upper California. This wind or si- moom during the summer is held in great dread in thii part of the country, for it is of a burning character that is quite overpowering. It generally comes from the south-west. In consequence of this feature of the climate, there is very little vegetation near the fort, not only on account of the heat and dryness, but owing to the vast clouds of drifting sand, which are frequently so great as to darken the sky. In summer it blows here conitnntly, and at night the winds generally amount to a gale. At the junction of the Columbia and Snake rivers, the cur- rent of the Columbia flowing from the north is remark- ably cold, while that of the Snake river from the south is warm. The diflerence is very perceptible even at !l nntry is so barren, and the difficulty of transporting provisions bO great, that the com- pany's servants subsist almost wholly upon salmon. The cultivation of the crops at Fort Colville is almost the sole object of attention, for the whole of the northern posts 1»IJ' ■m^ IT ' >':K '\ .- •.!v>''';V%iH-A'|''' . '^!■'' m t mmmm I'Jii -^•^^^^^^ C"^^ ^'if-^ ■■■st^.v^ H4:: *'5).. <^ "'' *- ii^' ;y;v\ 'iv-^^-/'- r I h '? :iil!l r T R A V K L S IN OREGON, N O . 2 . 461 (lepciul upon this for supplies of provisions. It in said to be 2200 feet above the level of the sea, a rise wliieli takes place within the spa(!o of five hundred miles, and is unequalled in any other river of so great a size. Sir Alexander MeKensie has left us in his journal, the most accurate description of Northern Oregon. Although there are, no doubt, some parts of the regions north of the inlet where he fell in with the sea, worth cultivating, and though many tracts are covered with wood, even north of Cook's Inlet, yet, except for fishing and for wild ani- mals, there appears to be little other value in the region possessed by Russia, or that part of Oregon west of the Rocky Mountains north of the parallel of 49° north la- titude. The glowing descriptions of Vancouver, and all the accounts of land fit for cultivation and settlement by Captain Wilkes, apply to lands south of that parallel. All north of this is described by Vancouver as dreary, rugged, and unfit for settlements. Of the parts of Ore- gon west of and within Admiralty Inlet, and south of Vancouver's Islands, he says, to describe the beauties of this region will, on some future occasion, be a very grate- ful task to some skilful panegyrist. The serenity of the climate, the innumerable pleasing landscapes, and the abundant fertility that unassisted nature puts forth, re- quire only to be enriched by the industry of man with villages, mansions, cottages, and other buildings to render it the most lovely country that can be imagined ; whilst the labor of the inhabitants would be amply rewarded in the beauties which nature seems ready to bestow on cultivation. Of the western shores north of 48° 29', he gives the most cheerless and sterile character. It presented, he says, a very different aspect from that we had been accustomed to behold from the south. The shores now before us were composed of steep rugged rocks, whose surface varied exceedingly in respect to height, and exhibitod little more than the barren rock, 71 H i'"* 462 TRAVELS IN OREGON, NO. 2 which in some places produced a little herbage of a dull color, with a few dwarf trees. Sir Alexander McKensie passed from Canada over the waters and wildernesses of America to the height of land which separates the waters running into Hudson's Bay from those flowing into the Pacific, one of the most arduous and difficult journeys ever performed by man. On the 12th of June, 1703, he left a small lake in lati- tude 54° 24' north, longitude 121° west, and crossed the ridge from this plain, through a pass between rocky pre- cipices of no more than 817 paces over to a lake, from whence its waters flowed to a branch of Frazer's river. The canoe was carried over this portage, and then cross- ed overland to another lake. They embarked 6n the lake by a portage, over which was a growth of large fir and pine tree^, and many fallen ones. Their progress then became slow and arduous ; the stream by which they descended was obstructed by terrific difficulties ; they often had to cut a road through the thick forest and make their way over swamps in order to pass by the rocks, rapids, or other obstacles of the river, such as be- ing choked up by fallen trees, carried down by the floods. Their escapes seem almost marvellous. They were frequently in danger of wanting food, and lived on a limited allowance. The coolness and intrepidity of the leaders braved all physical dangers, and tempered the ferocity of unknown savages, until they finally reached the waters of the Pacific. On the 22d of July, in lati- tude 52^* k:r, he painted his name a' < date with red ver- milion on a rock, and on the following day commenced his return homewards. Our limits will not permit us to follow Captain Wilkes into the detailed account of his surveys of the Columbia river and the Ocean near its mouth, nor can we here notice the voyages made for purposes of discovery and exploration to the north-west coast by the Spaniards and other Europeans. We shall. .^^^^Ti* IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) Y /. 4^ ^ 1.0 I.I ■« lii 12.2 £ |u |2.0 1.8 ^ I L25 114 11.6 Photographic Sciences Corporation rs « «T MAIN STi»r;iT W'iBSTIR.N.Y. 145*0 (716)872-4503 ^^^' '^ 4G4 TRAVELS IN OREGON, NO. 2, therefore, conclude with a summary account of llie ex- pedition of one who is entitled, perhaps, to outrank even the great McKensie in the list of accomplished and fearless travellers. Colonel John C. Fremont. No jour- nal of a traveller has yet been produced abounding more in the most interesting and valuable information relative to the climate, soil, geology, and natural history gener- ally of the countries traversed, than the well-written, practical journals of Captain Fremont. His party consisted of himself, Mr. Prenss, a German, as assistant surveyor, a hunter named Maxwell, the fam- ous trapper Kit Carson, two youths as adventurers, and some twenty men, chiefly Canadian voyagers and half- breeds brought up in the service of the fur companies, and habituated to life in the wilderness. After a journey of extraordinary fatigue, Captain Fremont arrived at the ascent of the southern pass of the Rocky Mountains. The perils encountered on the rivers, the hostility of the Indians, and the disturbed state of the north-west terri- tory, the hunting of buflfaloes, the various phases of trap- per life, and the sufferings of emigrants on their way to Oregon, the descriptions of the trading posts, the manner of getting fresh horses in the place of those worn out by the sufferings of the journey, are all described with an eloquence and fidelity which must be read to be appre- ciated. The party reached Fort Laramie on the 15th of July, 1842, a post belonging to the American Fur Company, built of clay after the fashion of the Mexicans. Captain Fremont endeavored to bring up the map of the country as fast as he passed over it, by means of astronomical ob- servations, but he was sadly interrupted. A succession of visiters generally occupied his tent. The war spirit was abroad, and various tribes were warring with each other, without any objection .o turn their knives against the white travellers, if a keg of rum or a couple of horses I 'If "i TRAVELS IN OREGON, NO. 2. 465 could be obtained thereby. Encompassed with dangers at every step of his journey, Captain Fremont preserved a calm and resolute demeanor, and succeeded in avoid- ing hostilities throughout his expedition. The frequent interruptions of the Indians were occasioned by a num- ber of causes, sometimes not less amusing than annoying. Some came for presents, others for information as to his object in coming into the territory. Now and then one would dart up to the tent on horseback, jerk off his trap- pings, and stand silently at the door, holding his horse by the halter, signifying his desire to trade. Occasionally a savage would stalk in with an invitation to a feast of honor — a dog feast, and deliberately sit down and wait quietly until I was ready to accompany him. 1 went to one; the women and children were sitting outside the lodge, and we took our seats on buffalo robes spread around. The dog was in a large pot over the fire, in tlve middle of the lodge, and immediately on our arrival was dished up in large wooden bowls, one of which was handed to each. The flesh appeared very glutinous, with something of the flavor and appearance of mutton. The astronomical instruments excited their wonder and awe, the things employed in talking to the sun and stars being undoubtedly " great medicine." They seemed to become attached to the adventurous leader of the expe- dition, and earnestly dissuaded him from the prosecution of the enterprise, assuring him that he would certainly be cut off by hostile tribes. Nothing daunted, however, he set out from Fort Laramie on the 21st July, keeping the north fork of the Platte on the right and the Laramie river on the left. He kept along the course of the Platte until he came to the Red Buttes (July 29th), a famous landmark, whose geological composition is red sandstone, limestone, and calcareous sandstone, and pudding stone. Here the river cuts its way through a ridge, on the east- ern side of which are the lofty escarpments of red argil- laceous sandstone called the Red Buttes. 466 TRAVELS IN OREGON, NO. 2. Leaving the course of the Platte they crossed over to the Sweet Water, and passing by Rock Independence, and a place called the Devil's Gate, where the Sweet Water cuts through a granite ridge, they came, on the 9th of August, to the summit of the Wind River Moun- tains, 7490 feet above the level of the sea, three hundred and twenty miles from Fort Laramie. On these moun- tains are the head waters of four great rivers of the con- tinent; the Missouri and Platte rivers flowing to the east, and the Columbia and Colorado to the west. After spending some days in the effort, the leaders of the party sncceeded in gaining the top of the highest peak, 13,510 feot above the level of the Gulf of Mexico. They mount- ed the barometer iti the snow of the summit, and fixing a ramrod in a crevice, unfurled the national flag to wave in the breeze, where never flag waved before. This point terminated the journey of Captain Fremont, on his first expedition. In the succeeding year, he came again to the same region upon a second tour of explora- tion, for the purpose of connecting his previous surveys with those made by Captain Wilkes and the officers of the United States Exploring Expedition. In the prose- cution of his mission, he had the pleasure of making the first voyage ever made by a white man on the waters of the Utah lake. When they looked from the summit of a peninsular butte upon its waters, and regarded it as an object of their anxious search, and as one of the great points of the exploration, they thought they experienced nearly the same feelings which must have stirred the breasts of Balboa and his men when first they looked upon the waters of the Western Ocean. After leaving the lake they proceeded on their way towards the Columbia, suffering the greatest privations and hunger. They took in their way Fort Hall, Lewis's river, the Grande Ronde and Wallawalla, and reached Vancouver just as one of the Hudson's Bay Company's TRAVELS IN OUEGON, NO. 2 467 vessels was setting sail for England. Dr. McLaughlin extended to them his ever ready hospitality, and fur- nished them with necessaries for the prosecution of their proposed journey up the Fall river and over the moun- tain country to California. This was a serious enter- prise at the beginning of winter, with a party of twenty- five persons, cf mprising Americans, French, Germans, ('iinadians, Indians and negroes, but all confided in their loiuler, and the journey was commenced in a spirit of i)i iiveiy, ol)e(lience and cheerfulness, wiiich all the hard- siiip iliey stiflered lliiled to derogate from. Circum- sliinces forced them to deviate somewhat from fulfilling the vviiole plan they had laid out, and they passed far to the south and near to the Pacific Ocean, and along the western base of the Sierra Nerada. Their route brought them to traverse a number of the salt lakes of California. From one of these, near the great Sierra, a remarkable rock rose six hundred feet above the water, presenting from the view the expedition had of it a pretty exact outline of the great pyramid of Cheops. Like other rocks along the shore, it seemed to be encrusted with calcareous cement. The resemblance suggested a name, and it was called Pyramid Lake. Nearly the whole of this journey was made over ground covered with snow, without forage for the cattle, who when they starved to death were eaten by their famished owners. The Indian guides would pilot them for short distances, then point with their hands the direc- tion they should take, and desert them. They perse- vered, however, against every obstacle. With too good an American for a leader, to go in any other direction than that pointed out by duty, too brave men to be dis- couraged by hundreds of miles of untrodden snow, too familiar with death to quail at his embrace, they perse- vered. But famine was their worst opponent. To form an idea of their condition, to learn how much is due to !1 Hi I ! i I 468 TRAVELS IN OREGON, NO. 2. men who serve their country as pioneers in her western wilds, it should he added that even among these iron- henrted travellers, some wandered away from the camp in a state of mental derangement induced hy suffering, plunged into the torrents, or wandered into forests. Well might Colonel Fremont say that "the times were hard when stout men lost their minds from extremity of suffering — when horses died — and when mules and horses, ready to die of starvation, were killed for food." GREGORY'S GUIDE FOR CALIFOIINIA TRAVELLERS. VIA THE ISTHMUS OF PANAMA. As such a large proportion of the " Universal Yankee Nation," have a migratory tendency towards California at the present time, it has become a matter of no little interest to those persons about undertaking so important an affair as a journey thither, to ascertain not only that which will most conduce to their welfare on the route, but also what measures are needful, to guard against imposi- tion and unnecessary delay. Old travellers in the United States have found unfor- aeen vexations on this route, and it cannot therefore be t^xpeeted, that inexperienced persons without proper ad- vice, will fare any better. With a view of guiding all travellers to California by the way of the Isthmus, the following directions have been prepared, by one who has twice travelled this journey, and who asks favor for them only, for their brevity and correctness. Good ' health is essential to every one who desires success in California, and tlie saving of expense, is no small object with most travellers. It is confidently buliovod that both results will be best attained by a t-trii't adherence to the following suggestions. 470 Gregory's guide for From New York to Chagrcs, the route may bo con- sidered plain sailing, and wc will commence with the an- chorage off Chagres, which is usually from one to two miles distant. The Steam Ship Company provide for the landing of the passengers and their baggage, using the ship's quarter-boats for the former, and the launch of the Steamer Orus for the latter, conveying the whole to the Orus, which vessel lands the passengers on what is called the American side of the river. The captain of the Oruy is paid by the Steam Ship for landing both passengers and baggage. Three or four taverns are kept at this landing by white men, one or two of whom are Americans. After seeing your baggage safely landed from the Orus, your first object shouhi bo to secure a good canoe — one holdhig four or five persons is tlie most preferable. Then make your contract to convoy yourself and bag- gage to Cruces, which will cost from thirty to forty dol- lars the trip, (six to eight dollars each person,) usually occupying three days, during which time your pleasure will be greatly enhanced, if you have been provident in supplying 3'ourself with a sufficient stock of provisions. The ranches and huts on the river banks are poor " sights" for hungry travellers. The sooner vou set out with your canoe the better. If you leave about noon, you will find Gatson about ten miles up, a better place to remain over night than Chagres, and perhaps it is the best on the river. Should you leave Chagres early in the morning, von may reach Vamos Vamos, about twenty miles distant before night. On the west bank is a rancho, containing two huts, called Blanquilla. This is about half way to Cruces. The great secret of getting well up the river during the day, is to get off early in the morning, and be liberal to the men that work the canoe. You can coax, bettor than drive them. At the end of about two davs vou will it.ti'!!i CALIKORMA TRAVELI-EKS. 471 (Jurnjona, wliero it ia tempting;; to stay, I*ut .sliuuld vou ;;o on shore there, you will experience fj^rca'c (lilliculty when you are rt.idy for a start, in getting your boatmen into their canoe again. This is tlicir worst fault generally. From Gorgona to Cruces, it is about ton miles. At Cior- gona, interested persons will advise you to take the road to Panama from that point. Pay no attention to such adiHcc, for that road is totally impassable for nine montliH in the year. Push on without delay to Cruces, and if you arrive there in the morning, you Avill hardly be able to get on the Panama road before the next morning. Meanwhile you can call at Funk's and Plcise's houses. They forward baggage by mules to Panama. Ascertain tlioir charge for sending it next morning, hut let no pro- mises induce, you to leave your baggage to he forwarded after you, but see it start at least. The above persons may ask ten or twelve dollars per lauidrcd pounds, but plenty of the natives can be had to carry it at the rate of seven to eight dollars per one liun- di'ed pounds. If jou. employ a native, it is necessary fot- you to have him fiign an agreement, to fulfil his contract. This you can get drawn in Spanish for twenty-five cents, to which vou must make him si(;n his mark, bindin;^ him to deliver the baggage for the stipulated price, at Zacha- risson Nelson & Co.'s office, Panama. In two days vou can walk to Panama and if desirable, keep your trunk or baggage in view the whole time, but I consider that quite unnecessary. Should you prefer riding, a mule would cost you from ten to sixteen dollars. I I, 472 nRKGOKv's <;lidk for ARRIVAL AT PANAMA. On arrival at Panama, your first business is to ascertain from the Agents when the Steamer is to leave, and if you are to be delayed a week or more, it is advisable for four or five persons to engage a room, with a cot in it for each, and arrange for a supply of drinking water. All this will cost a dime a day for each person. Taking meals at Res- taurants or Eating houses, a person may lodge in a good room, and thus live moderately at about three and a half dollars a week. The day before the Steamer leaves, notice is posted up by the Agents of the hour that passengers are required to he at the Mole, in front of the Custom House. Passengers are required to pay the expense of convey- ing themselves and tlicir baggage to the Steamer. Travellers in the Steamships between New York and Chagres, are of course much better provided, than on the Pacific Steamers. Having the New York Markets to resort to, once in each montli, makes a very essential difference. The Pacific Stoamers are supplied with stores from New York, via Cape Horn, with the exception of such as are obtainable on the Pacific coast. PRIVATE STORES. Steerage passengers will find one or two jars of pre- serves, and one or two pecks of dried fruit, (peaches or apples,) very acceptable. A few jars of pickles, and a few pounds of Milk, Soda, or Butter crackers, some Bo- logna Sausages and Cheese, a Ham and a piece of Smoked Beef, would not only prove very palatable and comfort- able, but more agreeable in case of sea-sickness than Ship's fare. I ( CALIFORNIA TRAV-,L»,KRS. 47a I m fei The climate is too warm ibr butter to keep well. tJiii- ^evbrcad and fruit cake, sick or well, never comes aini.sh on the trip to Chaj^res, and would certainly prove weleoun for two or three days on the Isthmus. For drinks, l^imes can bo had at houses on the Isthmus for lemonade, or if preferred, bottled ale and porter. Take sufficient of coffee, tea, loaf Hugar, &c., for five days' consumption in crossing the Isthmus, and should there be anything left of your stores on arriving at Panama, any- thing you have is preferable to tropical fruit, ichich should he avoided by all means. A similar outfit of provisions is desirable for the steer- age on the Pacific, and more so, for reasons before stated ; each steerage passenger is provided with his own plate^ knife and fork, spoon, drinking-cup, mattrass and ■pillovK During the delay, (always more or less at Panama,) per- sons who regard their health, will avoid exposure or hard work in the sun, during the middle of the day. Perhaps more persons have died from imprudence in this respect than from any other cause. It is considered highly dan- gerous, and by many residents on the Isthmus as almost certain death, to drink ardent spirits after eating tropica) fruit, as it produces fermentation in the bowels, which seems to defy the influence of all medical skill. The use of milk should be avoided, in every form, while on the Isthmus. Numerous cases of distressing illness, are known from its use. Light clothing, such as is worn in the United States, during the Summer months, is all sufficient for travelling purposes, from three days out of New York, to within five or six days short of San Francisco, after which, the usual warm clothing will be necessary. In consequence of the great and bitter disappointment incurred b}' many persons, in being delayed, for weeks and months in Panama, it has become indispensably necessary, 474 ORKGOHY S CnOK FOR for ('rtcli poison to ho proviilcd with a ticrkot for tlio Piioific Stoiinior, before le;ivin<^ Now York, which can ho procured thiiP. at the ofTico of the Company, 51 South street, New York. For want of tliia precaution, many have boon compelled fo Wiiit ut Panama, until they could send for a ticket to the above Office, and some jrrsnns have been ohlifred to return for this object y at a great sacrifice of both time and money. The expense of landing at San Francisco, is borne by each passenger ; tlu; Steamer coming to anchor as near the city as the landing is safe and practicable. This route to California, although more expensive than that by the way of (/ape Horn, is by far the most desira- ble for those who can afford the additional outlay, rotiuisito, for many reasons ; not the least of which is, the very great saving of time in making the trip, and the avoiding of a tedious and monotonous life on shipboard. The V03'- age by the way of Cape Horn will occupy on an average, five or six months, while by the Isthmus route, the trip is accomplished in as many weeks, and to most persons pre- sents varied scenes of no ordinary pleasure. The voyage up the Chagres River, has been by some persons execrated in tolerably strong terms, not to say diabolical. As far as my own feelings were concerned, I must assert that I received the greatest pleasure and never beheld more mag- nificent scenery, or luxuriant vegetation, than I witnessed while upon this river. Nature here appears to have been most lavish in her efforts, and to have succeeded beyond her most sanguine expectations, and it would appear almost impossible that any, the most unimaginative being upon the earth, could here remain unmoved, or find no pleasure in viewing her mighty works. All travellers however, do not think alike, and some so very diflUcult to please, com- plain even of the alligators they heard of on the river. As my object however, is to present to future Califor- ' CALIFORNIA TRAVELLERS. 475 ooncornmg nia travellers, clear and correct inforiniiLion the Isthmus route, in as condensed a form as possible, as well as matters that if attended to, concern tlicfr personal comfort and will save outlay of money ; any speculations foreign to such a purpose, would here be out of place. Besides, the press of the country, has for a long time past, through their numerous correspondents, given such varied and graphic descriptions of many points of interest on this rov.te, that most persons of ordinary intelligence have become somewhat famiUar with them. After a perusal of the foregoing, any practical man can before leaving home, estimate very nearly what his expenses will amount by the time he lands in San Fran- cisco. Some allowance for detention at Panama should be made, which you can easily estimate after learning from the Steam Ship Company in TTow York, on what day the Steamer will leave Panama. As a matter of course, no prudent person will under- take so long a journey without making some provision in his calculations, for unforseen events, that may require some outlay beyond the estimate of hifl entire expensee. Any surplus of funds he may have on hand on his arrival at San Francisco, will not be found very burthensomo, and he may feel quite sure, that his money will not trouble him long, if he remains, even for a little while, in a state of masterly inactivity. Hoping that the foregoing remarks may prove service- able, and a useful guide to the travelling public — I remain Their Humble Servant, JOSEPH W. GREGORY, Proprietor of Gregory^s California and jYeiv York Express. I I j\ The Grent Seal of the State of California, 479 eOlTllTION OF THE STiTE OF CUIFORiMl. A Proclamation to the People of Califoiiiia. The delegates of the people, assembled in Convention, have formed a constitution, which is now presented for your ratification. The time and manner of voting on this constitution, and of holding the first general election, are clearly set forth in the schedule. The whole subject is, therefore, left for your unbiassed and deliberate con- sideration. The Prefect (or person exercising the functions of that office) of each district, will designate the placea for opening the polls, and give due notice of the election, in accord- ance with the provisions of the constitution and schedule. The people are now called upon to form a government for themselves, and to designate such officers as they de- sire, to make and execute the laws. That their choice may be wisely made, and that the government so organized may secure the permanent welfare and happiness of the people of the new State, is the sincere and earnest wish of the present Executive, who, if the constitution be ratified, will, with pleasure, surrender his powers to whomsoever the people may designate as his successor. Given at Monterey, California, this 12th day of Octo- ber, A. D., 1849. (Signed) B. Rilet, Brevet Brig. General, U. S. A., and Governor of California. (Official) H. W. Halleck, Brevet Captain and Secretary of State. 480 CONSTITUTION OK THE We, the People of California, grateful to Mmighty God for our freedom, in order to secure its blessings, do establish this Constitution : — ARTICLE I. DECLARATION OF RIGHTS. Sec. 1. All men are by nature free and independent, and have certain inalienable rights, among which are those of enjoying and defending life and liberty, acquiring, pos- sessing and protecting property, and pursuing and obtain- ing safety and happiness. Sec. 2. All political power is inherent in the people. Grovernment is instituted for the protection, security and benefit of the people ; and they have the right to alter or reform the same, whenever the public good may require it. Sec. 3. The right of trial by jury shall be secured to all, and remain inviolate forever ; but a jury trial may be waived by the parties, in all civil cases, in the manner to be prescribed by law. Sec. 4. The free exercise and enjoyment of religious profession and worship, without discrimination or prefer- ence, shall forever be allowed in this State ; and no per- son shall be rendered incompetent to be a witness on account of his opinions on matters of religious belief ; but the liberty of conscience, hereby secured, shall not be so construed as to excuse acts of licentiousness, or justify practices inconsistent with the peace or safety of this State. Sec. 5. The privilege of the writ of habeas corpus shall not be suspended, unless when, in cases of rebellion or invasion, the public safety may require its suspension. Sec. 6. Excessive bail shall not be required, nor ex- cessive fines imposed, nor shall cruel or unusual punish- ments be inflicted, nor shall witnesses be unreasonably detained. ' STATE OF CALIFORNIA. 481 Sec. 7. All persons shall be bailable, by sufficient sure- ties : unless for capital offences, when the proof is evident or the presumption great. Sec. 8. No person shall be held to answer for a capital or otherwise infamous crime (except in cases of impeach- ment, and in cases of militia when in actual service, and the land and navel forces in time of war, or wiiich this State may keep with the consent of Congress in time of peace, and in cases of petit larceny under the regulation of the Legislature,) unless on presentiment or indictment of a grand jury ; and in any trial in any court whatever, the party accused shall be allowed to appear and defend in person and with counsel, as in civil actions. No person shall be subject to be twice put in jeopardy for the same offence ; nor shall he be compelled, in any criminal case, to be a witness against himself, nor be deprived of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law ; nor shall private property be taken for public use without just compensation. Sec. 9. Every citizen may freely speak, write and pub- lish his sentiments on all subjects, being responsible for the abuse of that right ; and no law shall be passed to restrain or abridge the liberty of speech or of the press. In all criminal prosecutions on indictments for libels, the truth may be given in evidence to the jury ; and if it shall appear to the jury that the matter charged as libellous is true, and was published with good motives and for justifi- able ends, the party shall be acquitted : and the jury shall have the right to determine the law and the fact. Sec. 10. The people shall have the right freely to assemble together, to consult for the common good, to instruct their representatives, and to petition the legisla- ture for redress of grievances. Skc. 11. All laws of a general nature shall have a nniform operation. 482 CONSTITUTION OF THE Skc. 12. Tlie military shall be subordinate to tbo civil power. No standing army shall be kept up by this State in time of peace ; and in time of war no appropriation for a standing army shall bo for a longer time than two years. Sec. 13. No soldier shall, in time of peace, bo quar- tered in any house, without the consent of the owner; nor in time of war, except in the manner to be prescribed by law. Sec. 14. Representation shall be apportioned accord- ing to population. Sec. 15. No person shall be imprisoned for debt, in any civil action on mesne or final process, unless in cases of fraud ; and no person shall be imprisoned for a milita fine in time of peace. Sec. 16. No bill of attainder, ex post facto law, or law impairing the obligation of contracts, shall ever be passed. Sec. 17. Foreigners who are, or who may hereafter become, bona fide residents of this State, shall enjoy the same rights in respect to the possession, enjoyment and inheritance of property, as native born citizens. Sec. 18. JVeither slavery, nor involuntary servitude, unless for the punishment of crimes, shall ever be tole- rated in this State. Sec. 19. The right of the people to be secure in their persons, houses, papers and eflFects, against unreasonable seizures and searches, shall not be violated ; and no war- rant shall issue but on probable cause, supported by oath or aflBrmation, particularly describing the place to be searched, and the persons and things to be seized. Sec. 20. Treason against the State shall consist only in levying war against it, adhering to its enemies, or giv- ing them aid and comfort. No person shall be convicted of treason, unless on the evidence of two witnesses to the same overt act, or confession in open court. & STATE OF CALIFORNIA. 483 Sec. 21. This enumeration of rights shall not be con- suuod to impair or deny others retained by the people. ARTICLE II . RIGHT OK SUFFRAGE. Skh. 1. Kvery white male citizen of the United States, and ovcry wliite male citizen of Mexico, who shall have eloctod to bf'come a citizen of the United States, under the treaty of peace exchanged and ratified at Queretaro, on tho .-iOtli day of May, 1848, of the age of twenty-one yean;, who shall have been a resident of the State n\x. months next preceding the election, and the county or dis- trict in which he claims his vote thirty days, shall be en- titled to vote at all elections which are now or hereafter may be authorized by law : Provided, that nothing herein contained shall bo construed to prevent the Legislature, by a two-thirds concurrent vote, from admitting to the riglit of suftVage, Indians or the descendants of Indians, in such special cases as such a proportion of the legisla- tive body may deem just and proper. Sec. 2. Electors shall, on all cases except treason, f< 'lony, or breacli of the peace, bo privileged from arrest on the days of tho election, during' their attendance at such election, going to and returning therefrom. Sec. 8. No elector shall be obliged to perform militia .*nct of San Jose, three members of assembly ; the disti.. San Francisco, five members of assembly ; the district oi Sonoma, two members of assembly ; the dis- trict of Sacramento, nine members of assembly ; and the district of San Joaquin, nine members of assembly. Sec. 15. Until the legislature shall otherwise direct, in accordance with the provisions of this constitution, the salary of the Governor shall be ten thousand dollars per annum ; and the salary of the Lieutenant Governor shall be double the pay of a state senator ; and the pay of mem- bers of the legislature shall be sixteen dollars per diem, while in attendance, and sixteen dollars for every twenty miles travel by the usual route from their residences, to the place of holding the session of the legislature, and in returning therefrom. And the legislature sudll fix the salaries of all oflScers, other than those elected by the people, at the first election. Sec. 16. The limitation of the powers of the legis- lature, contained in article 8th of this constitution, shall not extend to the first legislature elected under the same, \ STATK OF CALIFORNIA. rm i •wliicli is licrc'by authorized to negotiate for such amount as may be necessary to pay the expenses of the State government. R. SEMPLE, President of the Convention, and Delegate from Benicia. Wm. G. Marcy, Secretary. f J. Aram, C. T. Botts, E. Brown, J. A. Carillo, J. M. Covarrubias, E. O. Crosby, P. Dc La Guerra, L. Dent, M. Dorainguez, K. H. Dimmick, A. J. Ellis, S. C. Foster, E. Gilbert, W. M. Gwinn, H. W. Halleck, Julian Hanks, L. W. Hastings, Henry Hill, J. Hobson, J. McH. HoUingsworth. J. D. Hoppe, J. M. Jones, T. 0. Larkin, Francis J. Lippitt, B. S. Lippincott, M. M. McCarver, John McDougal, B. F. Moore, Myron Norton, P. Ord, Miguel Pedrorena, A. M. Pico, R. M. Price, Hugo Reid, Jacinto Rodriguez, Pedro Sansevaine, W. E. Shannon, W. S. Sherwood, J. R. Snyder, A. Stearns, W. M. Steuart, J. A. Sutter, Henry A. TeflFt, S. L. Vormule, M. G. Vallejo, J. Walker, O. M. Wozencraft. 510 ADDRESS TO THE PEOPLE OF CALIFORNIA. Address to the People of California. The undersigned, delegates to a convention authorized to form a constitution for the State of California, having, to the best of their abilty, discharged the high trust com- mitted to them, respectfully submit the accompanying plan of government for your approval. Acknowledging the great fundamental principles, that all political power is inherent in the people, and that government is instituted for the protection, security and benefit of the people, the constitution presented for your consideration is intended only to give such organic powers to the several depart- ments of the proposed government, as shall be necessary for its efficient administration : and while it is believed no power has been given, which is not thus essentially neces- sary, the convention deem individual rights, as well as public liberty, are amply secured, by the people still re- taining not only the great conservative power of free choice and election of all officers, agents and representatives, but the unalienable right to alter or reform their government, whenever the public good may require. Although born in diffi^rent climes, coming from difterent States, imbued with local feelings, and educated, perhaps, with predilections for peculiar institutions, laws, and cus- toms, the delegates assembled in convention as Califori / ans, and carried on their deliberations in a spirit of amity, compromise, and mutual concession for the public weal. It cannot be denied that a difference of opinion was entertained in the convention, as to the policy and expe- diency of several measures embodied in the constitution ; but looking to the great interests of the State of Califor- nia, the peace, happiness, and prosperity of the whole people, — individual opinions were freely surrendered to the will of the majority, and, with one voice, we respect- I- ■ ' ¥ ADDBESS TO THE PEOPLE OF CALIFORNIA. 511 1 ) fully but earnestly recommend to our fellow citizens the adoption of the constitution which we have the honor to submit. In establishing a boundary for the State, the convention conformed, as near as was deemed practicable and expedi- ent, to great natural landmarks, so as to bring into a union all those who should be included by mutual interest, mutual wants, and mutual dependence. No portion of territorv is included, the inhabitants of which were not or might not have been legitimately represented in the convention, under the authority by which it was convened ; and in unani- mously resolving to exclude slavery from the State of Cali- fornia, the great principle has been maintained, that to the people of each State and Territory, alone, belongs the right to establish such municipal regulations, and to decide such questions as affect their own peace, prosperity and happiness. A free people, in the enjoyment of an elective govern- ment, capable of securing their civil, religious and politi- cal rights, may rest assured these inestimable privileges can never be wrested from them, so long as they keep a watchful eye on the operations of their government, and hold to strict accountability those to whom power is dele- gated. No people were ever yet enslaved, who knew and dared maintain the co-relative rights and obligations of free and independent citizens. A knowledge of the laws — their moral force and efficacy, thus becomes an essential element of freedom, and makes public education of pri- mary importance. In this view, the constitution of Cali- fornia provides for, and guarantees in the most ample man- ner, the establishment of common schools, seminaries and colleges, so as to extend the blessings of education through- out the land, and secure its advantages to the present and future generations. Under the peculiar circumstances in which California becomes a State — with an unexampled increase of a population coming from every part of the 512 ADDRESS TO THE PEOPLE OF CALIFORNIA. world, speaking various languages, and imbued with diflbr- cnt feelings and prejudices, no form of government, no system of laws, can be expected to meet with immediate and unanimous assent. It is to be remembered, moreover, that a considerable portion of our fellow-citizens are natives of Old Spain, Californians, and those who have voluntarily relinquished the rights of Mexicans to enjoy those of Ameri- can citizens. Long accustomed to a diiFerent form of gov- ernment, regarding the rights of person and of property as interwoven with ancient usages and time-honored customs, they may not at once see the advantages of the proposed new government, or yield an immediate approval of new laws, however salutary their provisions, or conducive to the general welfare. But it is confidently believed, when the government as now proposed shall have gone into suc- cessful operation ; when each department thereof shall move on harmoniously in its appropriate and respective sphere ; when laws, bassed on the eternal principles of equity and justice, shall be established ; when every citi- zen of California, shall find himself secure in life, liberty and property — all will unite in the cordial support of insti- tutions, which are not only the pride and boast of every true-hearted citizen of the Union, but have gone forth, a guiding light to every people groping through the gloom of religious superstition or political fanaticism — institu- tions, which even now, while all Europe is agitated with the convulsive efforts of nations battling for liberty, have become the mark and model of government for every peo- ple who would hold themselves free, sovereign and in- dependent. With this brief exposition of the views and opinions of the convention, the undersigned submit the constitution and plan of government for your approval. They earnestly recommend it to your calm and deliberate consideration, and especially do they most respectfully urge on every voter to attend the polls. f y ADDRESS TO THK PEOPLE OF CALIFORNIA. The putting into operatlou of a government wlucli sliall establish justice, insure domestic tranquillity, promote tlie general welfare, and secure the blessings of civil, religious, and political liberty, should bo an object of the deepest solicitude to every true-hearted citizen, and the consumma- tion of his dearest wishes. The price of liberty is eternal vigilance, and thus it is not only the privilege but the duty of every voter to vote his sentiments. No fri'enian of this land who values his birth-right, and would transmit unim- paired to his children an inheritance so ricli in glory and honor, will refuse to give one day to the service of his country. Let every qualified voter go early to the polls, and give his free vote at the election appointed to be held on Tuesday, the 13th day of November next, not only that a full and fair expression of the public voice may be had, for or against a constitution intended to secure the peace, happiness and prosperity of the whole people, but that their numerical and political strength may be made mani- fest, and the world see by what majority of freemen Cali- fornia, the bright ctar of the West, claims a place in the diadem of that glorious republic, formed by the Union of thirty-one sovereign States. (Signed) Joseph Aram, Chas. T. Botts, Elam Brown, Jose Anto. Carillo, Jose M. Covarrubias Elisha 0. Crosby, Lewis Dent, Manuel Dominguez, K. H. Dimmick, •A.J. Ellis, Stephen G. Foster, Pablo De La Guerrn, Benj. S. Lippincott, M. M. McCarver, John Mc Dougal, Benj.'F. Moore, Myron Norton, P. Old, Miguel De Pedrorena, Rodman M. Price, Antonio M. Pico, Jacinto Rodrigues, High Rcid, John A. Sutter, I: , r,i4 ADDRESS TO TH£ PEOPLE OK CALIFORNIA. Edw. Gilbert, Wm. M. Gwin, Julian Hanks, Henry Hill, J. D. Hoppe, Joseph Hobson, H. W. Halleck, L. W. Hastings, J. McH. HoUingsworth, Jas. McHall Jones, Thomas 0. Larkin, Francis J. Lippitt, Jacob R. Snyder, W. Scott Sherwood, Wm. C. Shannon, Pedro Sansevain, Abel Steams, W. M. Steuart, R. Semple, Henry A. Teflft, M. G. Vallejo, Thos. L. Vermule, Joel P. Walker, O. M. Wozencraft. \ i