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 iH .--.._ 
 
 THE CALIFORNIAS 
 
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 .J'A''^ >• 
 
TRAVELS 
 
 IN 
 
 THE CALIFOENIAS, 
 
 4ND 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACmC OCEAN. 
 
 1* 
 
 BT 
 
 THOMAS J. FARNHAM, 
 
 Author of " Travels in the Great Western Prairies, the Anahuac and Rocky MoonUOna, 
 and in the Oregon Territory." 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 PUBLISHED BY SAXTON & MILES. 
 
 205 Broadway. 
 
 1844. 
 
 ^2Qk 
 
 4.U 
 

 N 
 
 I 
 
 Entered aocdlng to the Act of Congress, in the year 1844, by 
 
 THOMAS J. FARNHAM, 
 
 in the Clerk's office of the District Court for the Soatheru District of New York. 
 
 'N 
 
 ^1 
 
 a. W. Benedict Sc Co., Stereotyper» and Printer,, 
 128 Falton street. 
 
 IS 
 
PREFACE 
 
 'M 
 
 <i 
 
 l\ 
 
 In sending out the following sheets, the Atithor has done what 
 a year ago was as far removed from the path of his intentions, as the 
 theatre of the incidents related is fnnn the fireside at which they were 
 written. But who can estimate the forfv of circumstances in shaping his 
 destiny 1 
 
 I wrote my Travels in the Great Westevn Prairies, &c., with little belief 
 that they would excite any altcntioii beyond the circle in which personal 
 friendship would in some sense link the reader with the events narrated. 
 I did not comprehend the extensive interest felt in journeying:, 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 sublime, fearful nature. But 
 the very unexpected favor with which that work has been received, has 
 led me to conclude that such matters, related as far as they maybe at all, 
 with fidelity, are valued as aseful knowledge. Indeed, we may learn much 
 from the pulseless solitudes — from tiie liesert untrodden by the foot of living 
 thing — from the frozen world of mountains, whose chasms and cliffs 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. It dif- 
 fers from the previous one, however, in many particulars. The Great 
 
1 
 
 IV 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 South Sea, the Hawaian Islands, and the Californias arc its theme. Up* 
 per and Lower California, their conquest by the Spaniards, Indians, 
 white inhabitants, their present state, surface, vegetation, streams, 
 plains, mountains, volcanoes, animals— all these as they have been, 
 and now are, will be found fully described. To what I have seen 
 bas been added authentic information from every known source. And 
 now, dear readers, to your task. Mine is done. Should you laugh and 
 weep, suffer and rejoice with the actors in the wayfarings before you, and 
 send your fancy in after-times over those rose-clad realms where they will 
 lead you, and feel the dews of a pleasant remembrance falling on your 
 life, I shall receive a full reward for my toil. 
 
 Adien, 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
 IS 
 
 ; 
 
 
Up. 
 idians, 
 ■earns, 
 been, 
 seen 
 And 
 land 
 i,and 
 will 
 your 
 
 R. 
 
 If 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 •'♦foiv 
 A Rerainiscence-A Spcctacle-Oregjii-Lindward and Seaward— 
 The Gn-at South Sea-Magic Palace— Tnkin- in S udding-sails- 
 Caveins-Storm in Full Blast- Professor -f Psalrnody-Fur Hunter— 
 A British Tar-An Author- A Seaboat-A Corkscrevv-A Fla-on-A 
 Conrersation about Li/e in the Northwest— Its Dogs-Logs— Food- 
 Surlaee-Lords of the Norih-Frozen Mounlaius— Moss- Flowers- 
 Potatoes, Oats and Barley— Indian Wives and Hheep-The Arctic 
 Shore— Suicide of a Bravo Mr.n— A Solo— Eet 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 the 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 unchan-ed home of the 
 Indian; where he has hunted the moose and doer; drawn 
 the trout from the lake, and danmJ, sung, loved, and warred 
 away a thousand generations. I cannot desire for myself any 
 remembrances of the Past which shall brin- me more genuine 
 wealth of pleasurable emotions than lho:.e which came to me 
 from that fourth sunset of December, 1840, when I was lean- 
 ing over the bulwarks of the ship Vancouver, looking back 
 on Oregon, and seaward over the great Pacific ! A spectacle 
 of true grandeur ! The cones of eternal snow which dot the 
 green heights of the President's range of mountains, iose on 
 the dark outline of the distant land, and hung glittering on 
 1* 
 
6 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC 
 
 [ 
 
 I 
 
 If: 
 
 tlie sky, like Islands of precious stones ; so brightly did they 
 shine in the setting sun, and so completely did the soft clouds 
 around their bases seem to separate 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, make 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 marshaiied 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 I 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 
 
TBAVELS IN THE CALIFOUNIAS 
 
 '■k 
 
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 t-^ 
 
 I 
 
 southwestern sky. The captain stood upon the companion- 
 way, looking at the barometer. In a little time officers, aid 
 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 
 upon us soon." 
 
 Captain Duncan needed no information in regard to the 
 weather on these shores. He was everywhere an accom- 
 plished seaman. On the quarter-deck — with his quadrant — 
 on the spars — and at the halyards ; but especially in that 
 prophetic knowledge of the weather, which gives the sons of 
 Neptune their control over the elements, he had no superiors. 
 
 " Take in the studding-sails and make all fast on deck," is 
 the order, issued with quietness and obeyed with alacrity. 
 Water casks, long-boat, and caboose are lashed, ropes coiled 
 up and hung on the pins in the bulwarks, and the hatches 
 put down in storm rig. The wind before which we were run- 
 ning abated, and the horizon along the line of departing light 
 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 waited its coming. 
 
 The rough water which appeared a mere speck when the 
 wind came upon the circle of vision, had widened till its 
 extreme points lay over the bows. On it came, widening and 
 elevating itself more and more ! The billows had previously 
 been smootli, or at least ruffled sufficient only to give their 
 gently heaving sides a furzy aspect, while the tops occasionally 
 rose in transparent combs, which immediately crumbled by 
 their own weight into foam down their leeward acclivities. 
 But now a stro^^^er spirit had laid his arm on these ocean 
 
8 
 
 8 C E N I", s IN THE PACIFIC 
 
 'II 
 
 coursers. The wind came on, steadily increasing its might 
 from moment to moment! At first it tore the tops of the 
 waves into ragged lines, then rent the whole surface into 
 fragments of every conceivable form, which rose, appeared 
 and vanished, with the rapidity of thought, dancing like sprites 
 among the lurid moving caverns of the sea ! A struggling 
 vastness ! constantly broken by the flail of the tempest, and 
 as often reunited, to be cleft still farther by a redoubled blast. 
 
 The darkness thickened as the storm increased ; and when 
 the lanthorn was lighted in the binnacle, and the night-watch 
 set, the captain and passengers went below to their wine and 
 anecdotes. Our company consisted of four persons. One 
 was a singing-master from Connecticut, Texas, New Orleans, 
 and St. Louis. He was such an animal as one would wish to 
 find if he were making up a human menagerie ; so positive 
 was he of step, so lofty in the neck, and dignified in the absurd 
 blunders wherewith he perpetually corrected the opinions and 
 assertions of others. 
 
 Another was a Mr. Simpson, a young Scotchman of res- 
 pectable family, a clerk in the service of the Hudson's Bay 
 Company. This was a fine fellow, twenty-five years of age, 
 full of energy and good feeling, well-intbrmed on general 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 personages 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 productions, 
 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 listened a moment to the beatings of the tempest. 
 
 11 H 
 
 9 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIF 0RNIA8, 
 
 9 
 
 n- 
 
 'ir| 
 
 A surge — another — and a 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 sea-boat is the Vancouver, gentlemen," said Cap- 
 tain Duncan, " she rides the storm like a petrel :" and with 
 this comfortable assurance we seated ourselves 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 not 
 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 wa't 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 apprenticeship 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 sufficient im- 
 periousness to entitle him to have a Tom of his own. 
 
 " Tom," said Captain Duncan, " bring out a flagon of Ja- 
 maica, and set on the glasses, lad. This storm, gentlemen, 
 calls for cheer. When Neptune labors at this pace, he loves 
 his dram. Fill, gentlemen, to absent wives." This compli- 
 ment to the sacred ascendency of the domestic affections was 
 timely given. The storm howled hideously for our lives, our 
 families were far distant over seas and mountains, the heart 
 
ii.1 
 
 tt . 
 
 •J '• 
 
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 I 
 
 I 
 
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 ' 
 
 10 
 
 ^ 
 
 S C E N i: S IN T 11 K PACIFIC 
 
 was pressed with sadness : we drank in sUencc 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 inherited from a 
 thousand generations, a love for home, its hearth and blazing 
 evening fire, its old oaken table, its family arm-chair, and the 
 wife who presided over that temple of holy aflections. 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 positive happiness, instead of 
 the artificial semblances of these, which fashion and affecta- 
 tion 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 : tliat 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 
 snows, 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 that peculiar idea of manliness 
 which grows up in those winter realms of danger, privation, 
 and loneliness, had gradunlly habituated him to speak of these 
 relations as desirable mainly when the body had expended its 
 energy in striding mountar \ in descending rocky torrentfr 
 
%» 
 
 & 
 
 TRAVELS IN THE CAL IFORNIA8 
 
 11 
 
 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 infornation on other topics connected with it. 
 Life in the Company's service was briedy tlescribed. 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 Chihiiis 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 
 man sits wrapped in furs and surrounded by meat for his car- 
 nivorous steeds and provisions for himself. Thus rigged, the 
 train starts on the hard snow crust, and makes 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, adchesses himself to sleep 
 under the lea of a snow-bank or precipitous rock. When na- 
 ture is recruited the train is again harneSvSed 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 traveller 
 feels that his situation harmonizes well with the sublime de- 
 solation of that wintry zone. In this manner these adventur- 
 
.« 
 
 •( 
 
 J3 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 ous 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 at- 
 tack which the neighboring savages may make upon them. 
 They are usually manned by an officer of the Company and a 
 few Canadian Frenchmen. Li these rude castles, rising in the 
 midst of the frozen north, live the active and fearless gentle- 
 men 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 
 with 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 fowl, 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 indiffiEjrent quality. 
 Hardy men are these lords of the snows. 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 
 
T n A V E I- S IN 'I II K C A L I F R N I A S . 
 
 13 
 
 t 
 
 fallen clifTs, among which dash and roar numerous rivers on 
 their way to the Irozen sea. Scarcely any timber or other 
 vegetation grows in these wastes. A lonely evergreen or a 
 stunted white birch takes root h^le and there, and duiing the 
 lew weeks of summer, mosses and lichens present a few ver- 
 dant 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 them ! 
 
 The section of country which lies about Mackenzie's river, 
 differs from that described, in having dense forests skirting 
 portions of the valleys, and large plains of moss and lichen, 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 
 and other fish. But the winters there also scarcely end, be- 
 fore they begin again their work of freezing land, stream, 
 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 table lands form many lakes and lofty cascades oa 
 the way to their several destinations. The roar of these on 
 the dreadful frozen barrenness around, Mr. Simpson represent- 
 ed to be awful in the extreme ; so wild, hoarse, and ringing 
 are their echoes. 
 
 We were informed that there are considerable tracts of 
 arable land on the western side of Hudson's Bay, occupied by 
 several settlements of Scotch; that these people cultivate 
 nothing but potatoes, oats, barley, and some few garden 
 vegetables ; and are altogether in a very undesirable condi- 
 tion. He also informed us of a tract oi' tillable land, lying 
 2 
 
 t. 
 
 
 vj 
 
14 
 
 8 C E ^f K s IN Tilt; PACIFIC 
 
 i 
 
 M 
 
 some hundreds of miles northeast of Lake Superior, on which 
 Lord Selkirk had founded a colony ; Ihat this settlement con- 
 tains about three thousand people, composed chiefly of gentle- 
 men and servants, who H#ve 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 Protes- 
 tant preacher of the English Church. Some years since a 
 Mr. McLeod, from this settlement, went to Indiana and pur- 
 chased 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 expe- 
 dition, which the Company had despatched to the northern 
 coast of America. The unsatisfactory results of those fitted 
 out by the home government, under Parry, Franklin, Ross, 
 and Back, which had been partially furnished with men and 
 means by the Company, led it at length to undertake one 
 alone. To this end it despatched, in 1838, one of its officers, 
 accompanied by our friend Simpson's brother, well furnished 
 with men, instruments, and provisions on this hazardous enter- 
 prise. I have since been informed, that this Mr. Simpson 
 was a man of great energy and talent — the one indeed on 
 whom the Company reUed 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 tl.e civilized world to have 
 trodden the ices and snows, and breathed the frozen air of 
 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 bis glorious 
 
 =1 
 
T U A V K I. S IN THE C A I, I F I! N IAS 
 
 15 
 
 one 
 
 I 
 
 i4 
 
 deeds. Our companion, poor fellow, was happily ii^norant 
 of that sad event, and spoke of the expedition only as one of 
 great hardship, yet such as ho would have gladly shared. 
 His brave kinsman was then dead ! 
 
 When Mr. Sirai)son paused in these interesting narrations, 
 our professor of psalmody, who had been beating the t«ible 
 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. (Jalveston was a London 
 in embryo: Sam Houston had inherited the knee-buckles 
 and shoe-knots of Washington's patriotism ; the whole coun- 
 try 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 in- 
 formed 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 domain, 
 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 respecta- 
 ble 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 men- 
 tion his own name, whose character for bravery, intelligence 
 and taste for the fine arts, he did not say psalmody, would 
 draw around him the unemployed intellect and courage of the 
 States. In conclusion he modestly remarked, that he himself 
 was destined to the Californias, but did not say that he intend- 
 ed 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 southwest, 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, rock- 
 ed upon its summit, and as the surge passe<l on, reeled to the 
 
16 
 
 H C K N !•: H J \ 1 II K 1' A t I K ( C 
 
 ' 
 
 I'; 
 
 
 f :f! 
 
 1' 
 
 windwanl and slid into llu; trouj^h a^ain. This is the bitter- 
 est motion of a ship at sea, wlii'thir ho whom it stafTjTors be a 
 " land lublu'i" or " a salt." Thr latter finds it diincult to 
 take his watch-walk from the windlass to the fore-stays, and 
 swears that such a lullaby is as unworthy of the ocean god 
 as it is unseemly ibr a decent sailor, to stand, at one instant 
 with one le<^ clewed up and the other out, and the next clew- 
 ed the other way, and be compelled, at each chanj^e, to brace 
 himself back in the attitude of beinj^ frightened to death by a 
 ghost in the shrouds. 
 
 The landsman may perhaps feel too nmch awe to swear at 
 the great deep, employed in its sid)lime labors ; or if he dare 
 profane thus the majesty of his Maker's movements, his noble 
 self io uiMially 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 refused what it 
 requires. We sat 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 kunter followed with his war-cry ; 
 the Green Mountain lawyer came to the encounter with a 
 throat full of special pleading ; and after a hot melee each sur- 
 rendered, 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 births. The seamen on deck struck the bells, changed 
 the watch, and stood out like iron men on the tide of that ter- 
 rible tempest ! Their thrilling " he oe" occasionally cut 
 sharply and cheeringly into the hoarse cadences of the storm I 
 
'r R A V E I. •"* IN r II i; c a i, i k o u n i a s . 
 
 17 
 
 Every other sound of living thing was buried in (he clangor 
 ol' the elements. 
 
 Tlie next morning opened with gloomy grj» .<leur. The 
 elomls ljri«i;htened by the first laysot the sun in detached spots 
 only, apjjeaiing and (hsappearing in rajiid sucression, intimated 
 that the whole mnssof a-rial fluid was lleeing at a fearful pace 
 before the unabated tempest. As the light increjised into full 
 day, the canopy liung so dark and densely down the Heavens, 
 that nic^lit appeand to have retaine«l the half of its dominion. 
 It did not touch the water as fogs do ; but the massive heavy 
 f(jl(l kit between itself and the surface of tlic ocean, a space 
 apparently three liundred yards in depth. That was a sight 
 to woniler at. I could conceive of nothing in nature so far 
 be}<)n(l the power ol words to portray. Does the simile of a 
 boundless tomb, vaulted with mourning crape, shaken by fierce 
 winds, half lighted, filled with death-scr(!ams, represent it ? 
 I cannot tell : but such an idea arose as 1 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 slumbering 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 multiplying indefi- 
 niMy 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 wa- 
 terspouts marching so near me that I could hear their awful 
 roar I But I had not seen it raised and rent, in the height of 
 its tumult and power. AH this was now before me in the 
 great Pacific. 
 
 At ten o'clock the storm had gained its utmost strength. 
 Tiie ship was laid to. The waves were dashing over her bul- 
 warks. The Captain was standing braced upon the weather 
 quarter dressed in a long pea-jacket, stout sea-pants and boots, 
 and an oil-cloth cap covering head and shoulders. The watch 
 
18 
 
 s c K N i; s r N' 
 
 I u 
 
 »' A c I r I c 
 
 1 
 
 •I". 
 
 on duty were huddled under the weather bow and lashed to 
 the stays to prevent being washed overboard. Tlie second 
 mate stood midship, holding fast to the rigging. All were 
 looking at the storm. The ship herself lay like a lost water 
 bird, rising, falling, buried and mounting again, among the 
 overwhelming waves. 
 
 The appearance of the sea ! — Who can describe it ? 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, instead 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 f — 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 llocky Mountains. Nor is it like the 
 deep monitory groan that booms down the Great Prairie Wild- 
 erness 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 whirling depths below ! And when the ancient woods, 
 with all their leafy canopies and ringing crags, stood up around 
 it, and neither the hamraerof the smith, nor other din of cultivated 
 life, cast its vexing discords among the echoes, the sounds of 
 Niagara must have resembled this subhme duet of the sea and 
 the 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 ; who saw the floods come cours- 
 ing down the rapids, bend upon the brink, and plunge with 
 quickened speed into the vexed caldron, sending their peals to 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIA S. 
 
 19 
 
 * 
 
 
 
 the rainbowed Heaven, 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 
 together, 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 immiensity drop 
 on drop and mass on mass in motion ! The tempest piles up 
 the surface into lofty ridges, every inch of which emits a pe- 
 culiar liquid sound, which, mingling sweetly with each other 
 far and wide, pulsates through the surrounding air and water ! 
 Sweet and boundless melodies of the seas ! We 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 thrit 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 7 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 northwest. On 
 the outward tack we generally made a few miles on our course, 
 a ])art of which we lost on the other. It was vexatious to be 
 buffeted thus to no purpose ; to have our stomachs in a tumult ; 
 our jaws griding down oiu* teeth instead of eating ; but withal 
 it was very amusing. I had always thought that men in a 
 tolerable state of misery, possessed 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 going to-bed ; extraordinary in 
 nothing else than the novel manner in which 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 
 
f 
 
 ! 
 
 20 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 ■i* 
 
 II 
 
 * 
 
 V -f !l 
 
 V 
 
 with blazing coal 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 larboard side of the 
 i/?bin. His countenance, you will observe, is in a miniature 
 tem^JKCft. The ship rolls suddenly, his feet slip from under 
 him, and ^ slides under the table accompanied by a bag of 
 apples, a scutlte of coal, Tom the cabin-boy, and a hot poker ! 
 Coal, apples, and the law strown in indiscriminate confusion ! 
 As one might expect the lawyer extricates himself from his 
 difficulty, enters a " nolle prosequi " against further proceed- 
 ings in that direction, and stretches himself in his berth, with- 
 out attempting to persuade his wardrobe to take separate 
 lodgings. 
 
 The fur-trader seems determined to undress. A'^^.ordingly, 
 when the ship, in her rollings, is nearly right side up, he 
 attempts to take off his coat ; unfortunately, however, when he 
 has thrown it so far back as to confine his arms, the ship 
 lurches heavily, and piles him up in a corner of the cabin ! 
 Odds-blood ! how his Scotch under jaw smites the upper ! It 
 appears 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 blaz- 
 ing by the concussion! As, however, there is nothing in 
 particular to fight but the sea, and Xerxes has used up the 
 glory of that warfare, the fur-dealer takes to his berth, with- 
 out further demonstration of himself than to say that he 
 thinks " the devil's tail is whisking in the storm," and that 
 " his oxfoot majesty and the fintailed god must be quarrel- 
 ling stoutly about the naiads." ». 
 
 But the professor of psalmody is not to be prevented by 
 these failures from unrobing himself for the embraces of Som- 
 nus ; 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 j and that he 
 will strip himself of his blue roundabout, as he will that beau- 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIAS. 
 
 21 
 
 k 
 
 tiful country of its ill-fitting tyranny. His berth is on the 
 starboard side. The ship is pitching and dodging Uke a spent 
 top. How his bravery will end under such circumstances is 
 a question of no httic interest. But that something will soon 
 be done you perceive becomes evident ; for now as the star- 
 board side lowers on the retreating wave, he seizes his outer 
 garment with both hands, and with a whistle anrf ^ump that 
 would do credit to a steam-car off the track, wrenches him- 
 self 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 dan- 
 ger. 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 rjght 
 foot, but, alas ! that sudden 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 himself 
 again, and with courage unimpeached, Hes down in silence. 
 
F 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 The next Morning— Eating— Mermaids— Cupid— A Sack of Bones on its 
 Legs — Love— A Grandsire— 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 Lcok and Doubt — To be Dwmhfoundercd — A 
 Bird JSolC — Mauna-Kea — Christmas Eve — Watch-Fires of Angels — 
 Birds — Fish — Homestead — Hawaians — The Land — Moratai — Moor- 
 ing — Landing at Honolulu — A Slice of Bull — Poi — The Death Wail 
 — Hospitality— The Lover and his Destination — The Fur Hunter on 
 t^ 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 atmos- 
 phere and the ocean looked like maniacs. Not a shred of the 
 visible world seemed at ease with itself! Commotion, .per- 
 petual growls, screams and groans, came up from the tem- 
 pestuous 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 
 reserve 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 ful# odor of bilge water, the steam of smoking meat, 
 potatoes, 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 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIPORNIAS. 
 
 23 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 sleep in infancy by the biUows, educated in the school of the 
 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 unsta- 
 ble water and air ; imprisoned on the rolling deck, with no 
 foothold nor any odor of flower or earth around. I am re- 
 minded 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 immortality with 
 its richest wreath, if transferred to canvass, in the act of run- 
 ning from the dinner-table, throwing his quiver behind him, 
 and tipping his roguish face, bloated with the effort of a 
 retching stomach, over the taflrail. 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 Hawaian 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 consequence. 
 Like the toothache, fever and ague, and other kindred foUies 
 
 of the body, it has its origin in the Faculty will please 
 
 answer what. But seriously. It is an effort of our nature to 
 assimilate its physical condition to the desires of the mind. 
 Man's natural home as an animal is on land. As an intel- 
 lectual 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 himsfelf to 
 the waves, rocks on their crests, habituates head and foot to 
 new duties, and, girded with the arrnor of his immortal part, 
 that wealth of Heaven, goes forth, the image and representa- 
 tive of his Maker, to see, to know, and to enjoy all things. 
 But a truce to philosophy. We are on the sea. The elements 
 
, I 
 
 : 
 
 * M 
 
 If 
 
 I 
 
 •liii 
 
 34 
 
 SCENES IN Til F. P A (' I I' I C 
 
 have raved twelve days and are at rest a|:5ain. Quiet and 
 variable breezes from the north pu.-.h us pleasantly along ; 
 appetites return ; we shave our chins, comb our hair, and 
 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 
 steera'T-e. He had sulFered 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 ! Unfortunate man ! 
 He had built the Commandante-General a house, and never 
 was paid for it ; he had built other houses with like conse- 
 quences 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 year of his 
 wooing, a Californian Cavaliero, 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, advanced the old gentle- 
 man to the dignity of a grandsire. 
 
 This want of. fidelity in his betrothed wrought sad havoc 
 in our countryman's affections. He had looked with confid- 
 ing 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 return. He was alone again without trust, with 
 nothing on earth, or rather on the sea, to love but his carpen- 
 ter'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 cul- 
 tivated land a year or two in the valley of the Willamette, 
 
TRAVKLR IN THE CALIF0RNIA8 
 
 25 
 
 i 
 
 hail sold his stock and other property, and shipped for home, 
 with every tooth strung with curses against the Califomian 
 Spaniards. 
 
 Calilornia itself, not including the bodies or souls of its 
 people, he thought to be a desirable country. The very 
 atmosphere 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, and the fleas even, were all objects of pleasure, 
 utility or industry, of which he entertained a vivid recollection. 
 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 remembrance 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 
 narrow 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 regard for these birds ; the basis 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 peel- 
 ings, 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, biUing and frolicking 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 
 
26 
 
 I 
 
 \ 
 
 111 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
 i:! 
 
 
 i I 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 that ever squawked from tlie back of a Yorkshire Donke). 
 No ne«l of cramraing there to k:q) life agoin'. They finds 
 themselves and never dies with pip or dyspepsy." 
 
 " Hout wi' yer blaguard pratm', 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' yo 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 congratulated 
 the company on the excellence of the pea-soup, remarking 
 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' stirrin his meal." Trifling incidents like this occasionally 
 broke the monotony 6f our weary life. Our latitude and lon- 
 gitude were taken daily at twelve M., and the report of these, 
 and the distance from the islands always gave rise to some 
 prophetic announcements 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 contempla- 
 tion. Bathing was one of the former. After the shadows of 
 night had set in, we used to present ourselves at the main- 
 stays, 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 hooting, leaping and laughing of this ceremo- 
 ny were silenced, the cool comfort of the body left the mind 
 in listless quietude, or to its wanderings among the glories of 
 a tropical sky. 
 
 It was the 24lh 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 nearly transparent than 
 
 i 
 
I 
 
 ^•* 
 
 TRAVELS IN THK (' A 1- I K O 11 N I A S . 
 
 27 
 
 any I had ever breathed ; and there seeme«l to be woven into 
 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 
 yfears, 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 
 father had built on the shore of a beautiful lake among the 
 green woods of Vermont, stood " north and south" upon the 
 authority of that star. And after he had died at that humble 
 outpost of the settlements, leaving me a boy of nine years, his 
 death-bed, the little house, and the star whi(;h had guided my 
 parent's hand in laying its foundation on the brow of the deep 
 wilderness, came to be objects of the tenderest recollection. 
 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 occu- 
 pation to my heart in those beautiful nights. We thought and 
 talked of Cook. He had ploughed those seas long before us ; 
 had discovered the group of islands to which our voyage 
 tended ; had met a fearful death at the hands of the inhabit- 
 ants ; and some of his bones yet lay, scraped and prepared for 
 the gods, in the deep caverns of Hawaii ! The waters rip- 
 pling at our ship's side, had borne him ; had rushed in tem- 
 pests, 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 bunting which floated 
 in 1789 ; but it was the emblem of the same social organiza- 
 tion, of the same broad intelligence; the insignia of the 
 same Power, whose military embattlements, grain fields and 
 homes, gird the Earth ! I was glad to approach the Ha- 
 waian Islands on the track of Cook, under the old British flag. 
 
 Is there a human sense which derives its nutriment from the 
 
1 
 
 28 
 
 SCENKS IN Tin: PAl'lFIC 
 
 things which are gone ? Is there a holy-flower which springs 
 up among the withered tendrils of buried beauty 1 a strong 
 and vigorous joy, which, like the Aloe, blooms a moment on 
 the cold midnight of heavy sorrow ? 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 in the one case armies 
 thronging the Appian-way, hears the multitude surging in the 
 forum under the enthusiasm kindled by Cicero, and feels that 
 the eagle of freedom is throwing the pinions of his protection 
 over the energies of man. 
 
 In the other case he hears the voice of a mighty chieftain 
 summoning his millions of subservient hands. The hammer 
 and the chisel, from the beginning to the end of day, send up 
 theii* vast din to the passing hours. The mountain columns 
 of Thebes stand up in the presence of the pyramids ! And a 
 subject land bows in servitude to a great and controlling intel- 
 lect. 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 con- 
 verse 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 recollect 
 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 mo^eraent was 
 construed, by the wakeful ear of our desires, into a shortening 
 of canvass to prevent running on the land ; and we turned out 
 to see it. But it was yet beyond view. The night, however. 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CAI. IFORNIAS 
 
 29 
 
 • \ 
 
 tvas worth beholding. It was one o'clock ; the sky overhead 
 was clear and starry ; around the northwestern horizon hung 
 a cluster of swollen clouds, like Moorish towers, faintly tip- 
 ped with the dim light. In the southwest lay another mass, 
 piled in silent grandeur, dark and battlement-like, as if it 
 were the citadel of the seas ! The waters were in an easy 
 mood. The ship moved through them evenly, save that she cut 
 the long smooth swells more deeply than the spaces between 
 them, and occasionally started from his slumber a porpoise or 
 a whale. 
 
 We curned-in again and slept till the breakfast dishes clat- 
 tered on the table, and Tom informed us that Mr. Newell sup- 
 posed he had seen at sunrise the looming of land in the south- 
 east ! That announcement brought us to our feet ; sleep 
 gave place to the most active efforts at hauling on and but- 
 toning up the various articles of our wardrobe. " On deck ! 
 on deck ! where away the land ?" and we tasked our eyes 
 with their utmost effort to scan the nature of the dark em- 
 bankment on which the mate had founded his auguries. The 
 excitement at length drew all the passengers and the officers 
 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, was John Bull's pleasure; to wuss it 
 might be true, was the Scotch contribution ; and to reckon 
 awhile and commend himself to be dumbfoundered if anything 
 could be known about it, was the Carolinian carpenter'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 note 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 unnatwal 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 
 3* 
 
30 
 
 SCENES IN T II i: PACIFIC 
 
 ' ' 
 
 ' 
 
 their perfume on the air, and the i'ruits of trees, and shrubs, 
 and plants, are poured into the lap of the ripened year. 
 
 Who does not love the birds ? who is not made better and 
 happier by hearing them sing among the buds and leaves, 
 when the streams begin to babble, and the mosses to peer 
 above the retiring snows ; when the violet opens, and mea- 
 dows and forests change the brown garb of winter for the 
 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 tS them, was 
 an object of the tenderest interest. It had the cordial greet- 
 ing of our hearts ; and while talking about it, we could not 
 forbear reaching our hands toward it, and grieving that we 
 had no intelligible language wherewith to convey our saluta- 
 tions, and ask the tidings from its beautiful home. The cap- 
 tain consulted his reckoning, and tbund 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 mimbe- 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, Mr. 
 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 th ;3 looming 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 exprtased his belief that he could sail his 
 ship under that cloud without lead line, or copper bottom j and 
 it was still his opinion that an English commander like him- 
 self, an old salt of thirty years' standing, would be as likely 
 to know the complexion of the land as any gentleman with less 
 exnerienced optics. However, he sent Tom for his glass and 
 peered into it with the keenest search. It was delightful, 
 
 k 
 
 ^ 
 
TUAVKL8 IN THK CALIFORNIA 8. 
 
 31 
 
 ay 
 
 \i. 
 
 raeantimc, 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 the 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 
 whiskey that had been buried seven comfortable years at his 
 auld aunt's homestead, that he would see the lassies of Hono- 
 lulu before he was a day older ; the professor of psalmody 
 sung, " Here's a health to thee, Tom Moore ;" the Hawaian 
 Island servants of the Hudson's Bay Company began to count 
 their money preparatory to the purchase of poi j the crew 
 began to tell yarns about " sprees" they had erijoyed in Chili, 
 New Holland, Liverp^jol, Vera Cruz, St. Petersburgh and 
 Montevideo ; the six foot boatswain 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 seaweed 
 gathered on the prow, and the odor of the land puffed 
 over us. 
 
 At five o'clock the breeze slackened again, and until night- 
 fall the ship barely moved enough to obey her helm. Near 
 ten in the evening it freshened, but as we were in the neigh- 
 borhood of a lee-shore, the captain thought it prudent, to keep 
 
 • 
 
i 
 
 ,1 
 r 
 
 W 
 
 32 
 
 S C K N E S IN T H K P A (M F I C , 
 
 go<v.l soa-room, and accordingly shortened sail and lay off a 
 pari of tiic 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 orihiiary sense of the trencher and 
 cup, the music, dance and the embrace of kindred ; nor ren- 
 dered such by the pealing anthem or the solemn prayer, swell- 
 ing up through the lofty arches hung with boughs ol ever- 
 green and the prophetic star of Bethlehem ! But nature her- 
 self 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 lustr«, 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 condition. 
 Wide and gently curved swells rolled down from the north, 
 smooth, and noiseless, except when they dashed upon our no- 
 ble 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, ilying 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, risin^»; and chattering on the pant- 
 ing sea! And schools of tiny fish with bright golden backs 
 swam by the side of the ship, as children, after long absence, 
 gather with cherished rerjsr^brances around the old home- 
 stead on this blessed night ! 
 
 At dawn on the 25th one of the islands lay sx miles dis- 
 tant in the southeast. 1 he sky was clear ; the sea smooth ; 
 the porpoises blowing about us ; a right whale was spouti "g 
 a hundred rods astern ; and our Hawaians, looking from the 
 mainstays at the land, were uttering their beautiful language 
 of vowels with great volubility. Poi (the name (<f theiv 
 national dish), wyhini (woman), and iri (chief), were the 
 
 ^. 
 
 «i^ 
 
 I 
 
T U A V I', l.S 
 
 I N 
 
 T U r. (• A I, I I' () U N I A S . 
 
 33 
 
 f 
 
 only words I thon uruler.st()0(l ; and tlu-se occurred very often 
 in their iininuiled dial()|riies. Poor lellows ! they had heen 
 five years al)sent from their /joi; five years separated from 
 the brown beauties of their native Isles ; five years away from 
 tlieir venerated sovereign. No wonder, therefore, they were 
 charmed with the dim outline of their native land ! A mass 
 of vapor hun^' alonu^ its heifi;hts and concealed them from 
 view, save here and there a volcanic spire which stood out on 
 the sky overlooking; clou<l, mountain, and sea. As the 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 clifls, th(! undisturbed 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 vvl^h no vegetable life appeared. 
 On a few little plains near the beach lue 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 lor the southeastern part of Oahu. At two o'clock 
 our good old ship lay becalmed under the lofty piles of extinct 
 craters, six miles northeast of Honolulu. At four the breeze 
 freshened, and bore us down abreast of the town. Soon after 
 a boat carae rapidly from the shore with a pilot on board by the 
 name ot Fieynolds ; a generous, jolly old American gentleman, 
 of long residence in the islands. He greeted his countrymen 
 with f;reat 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 swells lifted 
 us at one instant on the summit of the waters and at another 
 dropped us into the 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 Ameri- 
 can whalers which crowded the anchorage ; ran under the 
 
34 
 
 s (; K N t; s r N t u r. pacific 
 
 
 guns of Iho fort; struck tlio luii(lin<>; at the pi'. r ; leaped 
 ashore among crowds ol natives, besprinkled with an occa- 
 sional European face : followed an overgrown son of John 
 Bull to auuther man's house, took a glass of wine, and scat- 
 tered ourselves to various (]uarlers 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 anchore<l near the pier. The " steerage" 
 and the Hawaians now came on shore. The former settled his 
 hat over his eyes and sought a barber's shop; ihe latter 
 repaired to the (own with their friends. 1 followed them. 
 Whenever they met an old ^-quaintance tluy immediately 
 embraced him, and pressed jioses together at the sides. After 
 many salutations of this kind they arrived at the market- 
 place; made a purchase of pot (a fermented paste of bo ! ^^ 
 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 inci- 
 dents of pleasure ^^ Inch had sweetened their early years. 
 
 Their mode of conveying the pn to their mouths is quite 
 primitive. The fore and middle fingers served instead of a 
 spoon. These they inserted to the depth of the knuckles, and 
 having raised as much as would lie upon them, and by a very 
 dexterous whirl brought it into a globular shape upon the 
 tips, they thrust it into their mouths, and licked the fingers 
 clean for another essay. They had been seated but a short 
 time when others joined them, who brought sad news. One 
 of their former friends had recently died ! On hearing this 
 their hands dropped, and the dreadful wail ewai burst from 
 every mouth, as they rose and went toward the hut \r ' hich 
 the dead body lay. It was situated a short distance from the 
 hotel ; and during the night 1 he ird that wail ring through 
 the silent town ! A more painful expression of sorrow I hope 
 
 i 
 
 it 
 
 I 
 
r n A V K, I, S IN T U K r A I, 1 F O n N I A R . 
 
 35 
 
 never to hear. The next morning I went to the liurial. The 
 wail was suspended during tlie ceremonies ; hut lor several 
 sui'-ceeding nights it continued to break my slumbers. A few 
 days afterward I saw them gathered again near the market- 
 place employed with their pot. Th(? wajM'S of five years' 
 service were nearly exhausted. They had given a large por- 
 tion to the chief of their district, and spent the rest in teasfmg 
 an»l clothing their poor relatives. They were poor when I 
 lost sight of them. '?ut those whom they had ted were shar- 
 ing their pittance with them. The most airectionate and 
 hospitable people on earth are these Hawaians. 
 
 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 
 a John Bull to which I have already referred. He employed 
 himself with much industry upon his duties of settling accounts 
 with his host, who, as the agent of the Company, had sold 
 the lumber, fish, &c., exported from Oregon to these islands. 
 After tarrying a month at Honolulu, he retiirned in the Van- 
 couver 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 Com- 
 pany's service. 
 
 The professor of psalmody stopped at the hotel and prepared 
 to exhibit himself. His first essay was to deliver to the 
 American missionaries anc^ others, certain letters which he had 
 obtained in Oregon. His next was to awaken tne genius of 
 music. For this purpose he attended a number of singing 
 parties, at which he attempted to render himself useful to 
 three young Americans, who sang with masterly taste. In 
 the opinion of the professor they " needed a little burnishing," 
 which he volunteered to give them. Unfortunately for the 
 art, however, they were vain enough to suppose they had 
 lea'"ned music before his arrival : pnd did not thereforp vahie 
 
r 
 
 36 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC 
 
 his suggestions so highly as he himself did. But the professor 
 persevered. His forbearance knew no limit towards the 
 deluded tyros. On all public occasions he never failed to 
 throw out many invaluable hints as to movement, accent, and 
 style generally. He even encouraged them to hope that, with 
 all their imperfections, they might attain a respectable degree 
 of excellence if they would attend to his instructions. Whether 
 or not his exertions were ever properly appreciated by these 
 gentlemen is a question which remains unsettled to this day. 
 But the most interesting event which occurred to the professor 
 in Honolulu was his interview with the sister of the young 
 lady whom he had forsaken. She was the wife of a mis- 
 sionary, a ze&lous servant of her Master. He called on her 
 and was invited to remain to tea. I was present. Every- 
 thing was sad as the grave ! The mercies of Heaven were 
 implored < v^^ Hs blighted conscience ! He left, little hap- 
 pier for the nisccnces awakened by the visit, and soon 
 after saUed for iJalifornia. I heard of him as an ingenious 
 man in mending a watch on shipboard, but never as one of 
 moral integrity or as the Napoleon of the Californias ! 
 
 '% 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 4 
 
 Hawaian Islands— Spaniards first visited thera-HoopiU Wyhini— Ac- 
 count of Cook's Visit-A god— A Robber and his Death- Vancouver's 
 Visit-Kamehameha I.-A Treaty-Cattle-Origin of the Islands- 
 Poetry, and another Book— Legends— Tb^jt-Philosophy of Civilisa- 
 tion-A Way to the End-What is Taught-Gratitude— Departure 
 from the Islands— Lava and Cauldrons— Goats and Men— Passengers- 
 Captain, Mates and Crew— A Human Menagerie— Northing— Varia- 
 bles— Ten days out— Too nauseous for Music— Uncombed hair— Ex- 
 hilarated— Lovely— Growing Fat— Ten Knots— Ten more days out— 
 An Ocean Don— American and English Tars— A Squall— A new 
 mode of taking Eels— l^and ho— Mission— Wrath— Monterey. 
 
 Tffls group of islands was first visited by a Spanish ship, 
 during the early explorations of the northwest coast of 
 America, by Admirals Otondo, Viscaiyno, and others. The 
 traditions of the natives say, that a small vessel was driven 
 ashore on the southern coast of Hawaii, that two of the crew 
 only escaped death among the breakers, and that these inter- 
 married with the natives and left children. I saw some descend- 
 ants of these men. Their European features and the use of 
 a few corrupted Spanish words, satisfied me of the truth of the 
 legend and the ship's nationality. 
 
 Captain Cook next visited them in 1779. The circum- 
 stances of his visit and massacre, as given me by a very aged 
 chieftainess, Hoopili Wyhini, will interest the reader. 
 
 "Captain Cook's men were allowed to steal a canoe 
 belonging 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 traditions 
 asserted that gods would not rob, and we told him so. But 
 
/ 
 
 38 
 
 SCENES r N THE PACIFIC, 
 
 -l-- 
 
 the canoe wa"^ not restored. Our people thought, therefore^ 
 if Cook would steal fVom them, it would be right to steal from 
 him ; so in the night time, they swam under water a long dis- 
 tance to the ships, loosened a boat from one of them, and 
 having brought it ashore, broke it in pieces for the nails. Cook 
 was very much enraged at the loss of his boat, and threatened 
 us with destruction if it were not retui'ned. But it could not 
 be ; it was destroyed. 
 
 " A number of days passed in very angry intercourse 
 between our people and the foreigners, during which a chief 
 suggested that so imjust a being could not be a god. But all 
 others said he was the great Kono. This was in our days of 
 darkness. Why do you press me to remember such un- 
 pleasant things ?" 
 
 I explained that I was anxious to know the truth of 
 the matter, and she continued : 
 
 " At length Cook came on shore with an armed force, and 
 went to the king's house to persuade him to go on board his 
 ship. The chiefs interfered and prevented him. Cook was 
 angry, and the people were in a great rage. He went down 
 to the shore where his boat lay. The people gathered around 
 him. The chief who did not believe him a god, tried 
 to kill Cook, but Cook killed him ; and tlien the people who 
 belonged to that chief, killed Cook. It thus became clear 
 that Cook was no god ; for we thought our old gods could 
 not die. These were our years of sin, before the Pono 
 (Gospel) came among us ; and it is not pleasant to speak of 
 them." 
 
 This venerable chieftainess was advanced in womanhood at 
 the time of Vancouver's visit, in 1779. She gave the following 
 account of it. 
 
 " When Vancouver arrived at Hawaii, Kamehameha was 
 the chief of three districts on that island. These were Kona, 
 Kohala, and Hamakua. That year he fought against the 
 reigning king, and conquered the whole island. Kameha- 
 meha did not see Vancouver at Kona, where he first anchored. 
 
 t 
 
T R A V F, L S I N T IT K . A I, I F O R N I A S , 
 
 39 
 
 / i \ 
 
 But a little after the time of our nutlonal holidays, which 
 occurred in the latter part of the Ciuistians' December, he 
 came to Kealukekua Bay. There I first saw him. Karaeha- 
 raeha also visited him at that place. The flag-ship, brig and 
 store-ship, appeared to be under the general command of a 
 man, whom we called Puk(3ki ; the captain of the store-ship 
 we called Hapilinu. 
 
 "While this squadron remained in the bay, myself and 
 thirteen others went aboard. They were Kamehameha, his 
 three 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 — according 
 to our old rules of hospitality, he furnished him with a concu- 
 bine. He gave me to him. I passed nine days on board 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 company with some 
 other chiefs, to visit my sick brother, and did not return. 
 
 " On another occasion, Kamehameha, his chiefs, and two 
 Englishmen, who had been adopted by some old chiefs, and 
 made a part of the king's counsel, named John Young and 
 Isaac Davis, w^ere passing the day on board the flag-ship, 
 when Kamehameha addressed to Vancouver these words: 
 * E nana mai ea u, eia ka aina,' which being interpreted, 
 means, ' Look after us, and if we are injured, protect us.' To 
 this Vancouver assented. An instrument in writing, which he 
 said would bind his sovereign to keep the promise he had 
 made, was framed and presented to the king. I do 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 Vancouver 
 promised to do so, Kamehameha always said the English 
 were our friends — that the islands were his, and that these 
 
 
40 
 
 » <; K N r, s IN T H V. V A (; 1 k i <; 
 
 friends would keep off all danger from abroad. It is not clear 
 to ine that they have been faithful to the words of Van- 
 couver. 
 
 " 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 had sore 
 lips when he returned. He brought down some sulphur, salt- 
 petre, and lava. 
 
 " Vancouver gave me two fathoms of red broadcloth. To 
 the king and chiei's he also gave some of ihe same. He said 
 the king of England sent it to us. I had two husbands 
 at this (imo. 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 Kamehameha four cattle, three cows 
 and one bull. He said to Kamehameha, ' 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 moiuitains. 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 
 before he left us. They were brought from 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 the language of that 
 nation. By means of these men, he asked questions, and re- 
 ceived answers in regard to our old ways. Once he asked 
 ' whence came these islands V and our chiefs replied — ' Ha- 
 waii is the child of the gods Papa and Wakea, and the other 
 islands are the children of Hawaii.' 
 
 " The chief priests then said Hawaii was in a very soft state 
 immediately after birth, but a god descended from the skies 
 and called — * E Hawaii Ea, Hawaii Oh,' and the god 
 
 1 
 
 '. 
 
T » A V K I, S 1 N T II K r A I, I K () U N I A 8 . 
 
 41 
 
 1 
 
 'if 
 
 1 
 
 Hawaii came I'ortli, cominunicated to the pulpy land a gyra- 
 tory motion, nuulf it coint* around him, and assume a perma- 
 nent lonn. Vancouver replied, ' rij^ht.' 
 
 " 1 am sixty-five years ol*! and must die soon." 
 
 I was exceedingly interested in thes(; conversations with 
 this remarkable woman. She had been one of the wives of 
 Kamehameha the First; had eonimanded his navy of war- 
 canoes, durino- his con(|uests, and wiis at the time of my inter- 
 view with her the aclinu; exe(;ulive of Maui, and a scholar 
 in the missionary Sabbath school ! 
 
 I remained three months in these beautiful islands, enjoying 
 the revelations of these chroniclers of old and curious times. 
 The kinij;, chiei's, lbr(;i<j;n residents and missionaries, perceiving 
 my avidity in gatherin;^ inibrraation respecting the country 
 and its pciople, rendered me every aid in their power to facili- 
 tate my inquiries. Nor do I ever (jxpect again to find a richer 
 field of the strange, the ^eautilul, the wonderful and the sub- 
 lime, than was there presented to me. 
 
 The legends of a thousand generations of men, living 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 l)eatification of the good on 
 whom their divinities scattered blessings ; ♦heir forms of gov- 
 ernment ; 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 j are a few of the interest- 
 ing subjects investigated. 
 
 The intense interest, as well f^s the amount of writing 
 
 required to exhibit these matters, will furnish my best apology 
 
 for passing them in this place. They may h* reafter appear 
 
 in a separate volume. But I cannot allow my readers to j)ass 
 
 from the Hawaian kingdom, without presenting to their notice 
 
 the interesting fact, that a hundred and seven thousand savages 
 4# 
 
V 
 
 1^ 
 
 4d 
 
 SCENKS IN P IT K PACIFIC. 
 
 have there been brought williin the pale of civihsnlion and 
 Christianity through the instrumentahty of the Americans. 
 
 Twenty-five years ago a nation occupied the Kingdom of 
 Hawaii which sought its happiness from a systematic viola- 
 tion of the fundamental laws of Creation. Their food was 
 under the tabu, or ban ; so that the powerful in civil and reli- 
 gious affairs appointed the best edibles for their own use, and 
 made death the penalty to their wives, daughters and inferiors, 
 if they tasted them. The fire kindled to cook the food of the 
 men was tabued ; it was death for a woman to kindle hers 
 from it, or cook or light a pipe at it. The person 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 midnight human victims 
 were slaughtered, and piled on scaffolcb with dogs and hogs, 
 around the temples which they would consecrate to their 
 deities ! ! 
 
 Here human nature had been forced from its true appeten- 
 cies to the material and spiritual Universe. Its misery fol- 
 lowed as an inevitable consequent. But the Hawaians were 
 thinkers. The violated ordinances of the world, recoiling on 
 them at every tread of life, forced on them the thought of 
 obedience and its blessings. And they rose in their power ; 
 ate from the 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 ages of degradation, to the quiet reign of the 
 natural laws. It is most remarkable that the American mis- 
 sionaries 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 tjnranny. These they had broken down by a. mighty 
 blow. The fragments of their temples, altars and gods, were 
 strewn over the land. An entire nation looked on the flowers, 
 the stars, the rivulet, the ocean, the burds and themselves, and 
 
 k \ 
 
 X 
 
 1 
 
T n A V i: r, s in t it e c a i. i f o r n i a .« 
 
 43 
 
 U. \ 
 
 ( 
 
 believed in no God ! ! The vessel which brought to them the 
 Christian faith anchored at Honolulu ! The event, which 
 shook the hills, darkened the sun and openeil the graves of 
 Judca, was proclaimed, and gave its hopes of Heaven to a 
 Imndred thousand people ! A nation thus entered the world 
 as its loved homestead ; became obedient to its organization ; 
 called back the wandering religious sympathies 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 harmony with it and 
 its Author. 
 
 Man must incoii orate himself into that great chain of rela- 
 tionship 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 anunal existence to the thinking and feel- 
 ing 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 warfare 
 between himself and the immutable conditions 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 enter 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 dependant 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 unalter- 
 able condition of happiness : the only tnietpst of civilisation; 
 
1 
 
 •M 
 
 J» r E N K R 
 
 T II K r A (• I I' r (" 
 
 the only sf;i((' in whiili our powers, pliysiriil ;iih1 incnt.il, will 
 npci.ifc li:trmoniousJy ; the only position of our existence 
 which looks forward on the path of our <le,stiny, with any cer- 
 tainly that thouiifht, li'eiinii^, an<l act, will lead to results plea- 
 surable to ourselves and in harmony with the rest of the 
 world. 
 
 It is a want of proper reflection on this matter which has 
 rendered abortive so many ellorts to civilize different portions 
 of the race. In India, in the forests of the west, in every 
 other place, except the Ilawaian Islands, where the societies 
 of Protestantism have made efforts to ameliorate the <'ondi- 
 tion of the barbarian, nearly the whole acting force has been 
 brou<^ht to b(>ar on I he cultivation of the relit^ious 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. But there was 
 no corresponding teaching to the rest of his nature. His 
 physical wants and the mode of supplying them, remained 
 unchanged. All his relations to the external world continued 
 the same. vVnd the largest number of the strongest desires of 
 the mind being thus left, to contend with those which the 
 missionaries attempted to excite and purify, it is no wonder 
 that so little has been accomplished. 
 
 In the Hawaian Islands the missionaries found a people 
 living in villages, having a property in the soil,- and depend- 
 ing- chiefly upon its cultme for their subsistence. They also 
 found them destitute of every kind of religion, and desirous 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 civilisation and 
 moral rectitude which they now possess. 
 
 The result of missionary efforts in these islands, if well 
 
 M;-,.- 
 
 I 
 
r U A V K 1. S IN T UK f A I, I K O R N I A S . 
 
 Ah 
 
 { 
 
 umlorslood, may load to some valuable chanirrs in the uindc 
 ol' ()|)('iatiiii^ I'lscwlu'i'c. it will lu* Icaiiu-d that whilf the 
 physii^al wants and llu- mode ol snpplyini; tliem, are opposed 
 to the ordained condition, it is vain to expeit the Christianized 
 state. 
 
 We may, meanwhile, rejoice at this single result. It is 
 one of the great events of the age. Twenly thousand Ila- 
 Waians are members of Christian churches. Seventy thou- 
 sand read and write. The whoU' people are better taught, 
 more intelligent, and farther advanced in civilisation than are 
 the citizens of the Mexican Republic. Their (Jovernment is 
 more paternal, and administered more kindly than any other 
 known to civilized man. But \ must hasten homeward. 
 
 The hospitality of <'ountrymen during my tarry in these 
 islands, the kindness of countrymen, bestowed on me, a stran- 
 ger, fleeing from my grave, and sad — away from those on 
 whose hearts I had a light to lean — how can I ever forget 
 them ! While those beautiful islands have a place in ray 
 memory, they will be associated with some of the most grate- 
 ful 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 love<l in the kingdom of Hawaii ! 
 
 To the sea ! on board the bark Don Quixote, Paty, master, 
 bomid for Upper California ! We left tin; harbor of Honolulu, 
 under a sweet land breeze from the forests crowning the vol- 
 canic hills in the rear of the city, and bore away to the west- 
 ward along the coast. The mountains of decomposing lava 
 rose from the water side in sharp curving ridges, which, 
 elevating themselves as they swept inland, 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 volcanoes. Many valleys 
 dotted with the hay-thatched huts of the natives, their fields 
 of taro, and orchards of bread-fruit, cocoa and plantain, lay 
 along the shore. The lower hills were covered with frolick- 
 

 46 
 
 S C E N '•; S IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 ing goats, and here and there on the projecting cliffs, stood a 
 group of stalwart figures, brown as the rocks, shouting their 
 pleasure at seeing our ship, with all sails steadily drawing, 
 push through the waves. Having rounded the southwestern 
 cape, we laid our court.3 through the channel between Oahu 
 and Taui, with the intentioi; of avaiUng ourselves of the 
 northern " variables," to carry us to the American coast. 
 
 In the cabin we had seven passengers ; Mr. Chamberlain, 
 the fiscd agent of the American Missions at the islands — a 
 man of a fine mind and unpretending goodness, who had mi- 
 dertaken the voyage for the b'^nefit of his health — Mr. Cobb, 
 the mate of a whaler, a plain honest man, going home to die 
 of an injury from the f nlling of a spar on shipboard : a spend- 
 thrift of Philadelphia, relurninTj from a two or three year's 
 spree in the Pacific; and a brace of Charlestown bo}s, who 
 were on their way homeward for goods and sweethearts. 
 One of these was an excellent little fellow, with a soul full of 
 ^usic and justice ; ♦!ie other a singer of bass and an acting 
 agent general, in the same department. The only representa- 
 tive of the fair sex we could boast of, was a half-breed Ha- 
 "waian lass, going to visit " the Major," her ^ather, an old 
 mountaineer from New England, who was keeping a small 
 shop at Santa Barbara, in Upper California. 
 
 Captain Paty was a uttle man, with a quiet spirit, and a 
 geneiGus heart J a New England man who always kept his 
 eye to the windward, and gave his sails to the stoutest breeze 
 without fep.r of clew-lines or stays. The mate, a lusty Eng- 
 lish tar of the Greenwich school, was a jolly old boy, wnose 
 face was always charged with a smile, ready to be let off on 
 the least occasion of conferring happiness. Our second mate 
 was an Italian, who had left his couu.ry for doubtful reasons, 
 married an Anicrlcan girl in the city of New York, buried 
 h.. ., and was now roaming the seas in the double capacity of 
 second mate and ship's carpenter, for the means of educating 
 his only child. 
 
 Our crew was a collection of odd-fellows. The first in 
 
 ,1 
 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CAI, IFOR N IAS. 
 
 47 
 
 m 
 
 r i\ 
 
 height and importance was "Yankee Tomj" the second 
 a pair of English renegadoes, from the royal navy or else- 
 where ; next came a number of ol'.l tars, who hai!e(l from the 
 earth generally ; then several Ha^vaians, and last of all, the 
 cook; as dark a piece of flesh as ever wore wool, and as in- 
 dependent a gentleman as ever wrestled with a soup pot. 
 Thus were we well manned fore and aft. The extremes of 
 cursing and prayer, of authority and subserviency, 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 
 human menagerie. And if the shade of cur friend Cuvier had 
 leisure on his hands to look in upon us, and observe the 
 paws of our liens, the teeth of our tigers, the grins of our 
 apes, the wool of ou • lambs, and the mental and physical qua- 
 lities of each species, I doubt not he was satisfied with the 
 diversity of their powers and the completeness of the col- 
 lection. 
 
 When leaving the latitude of the islands, we had a distant 
 view of the Taui. It was studded with mountains of moder- 
 ate elevation, clothed with evergreen forests. It appeared 
 beautiful enough to be the island of Indian Mythology 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 variety 
 of weather. On the first two or three degrees it was compara- 
 tively mild, and the generous breezes appeared to push us on 
 with a right good will. But on reaching the latitude beyond 
 the Trades, the winds from the northwest overtook us. These 
 currents of air in the winter and spring are exceedingly rough, 
 gusty and cold ; and being often alternated with the warm 
 breezes from the torrid zone, produce conditions of the atmos- 
 phere, which, in more senses than one, may be termed " va- 
 riables." The balmy breath of one day contrasts strongly 
 
 
^ 
 
 48 
 
 •S ( K .\ !•• 'i IN THfi PACIFIC, 
 
 with the frozen blasts of another ; the soft bright clouds from 
 the south, with the harsh dark shadows from the north, and 
 the rippling sea when the former fans it, with the ragged 
 waves which roll under the latter. 
 
 Ten days out ; latitude thirty-eight ; wine' fresh from the 
 north ^est ; Mr. Chamberlain (juite ill, but aLie to be on deck 
 with his thermometer ; the Charleston boys too sick to make 
 music ; the Philadelphia blade's hair uncombed ; Mr. Cobb 
 very much exhilarated with the bold movement of the ship ; 
 the half-breed Hawaian lass as lovely as circumstances per- 
 mitted ; the crew growing fat on salt beef ; the ship, making 
 her ten knots, headed toward Cape Mendocino, and everything 
 else in some sort of condition ; thus stood the affairs of our 
 floating home. 
 
 Ten days more passed on, and little change in these things 
 occurred, for better or worse j save that, when we arrived 
 within a hundred miles of the coast, the northerly winds be- 
 came less violent, and their temperature higher. Our old 
 bark was as brave a Don among the waters as one would 
 wish to see. He was of American origin, a fine model of an 
 ocean cavalier, and did battle with the floods as fearlessly as 
 any ship that ever doubled the Cape. Our time on board, there- 
 fore, went off rather agreeably ; for the speed of a landsman's 
 passage at sea is the absorbing element of its pleasures. 
 
 The officers atid crew had employment enough to occupy 
 them, and were usually in that agreeable mood of body and 
 mind which produces a good appetite, hearty joking and 
 sound sleeping. When the winds were stiff, they busied 
 themselves in keeping sails, ropes, spars and masts at their 
 appropriate duties ; and when a warm sun and steady breeze 
 came, the sailors overhauled the wormy biscuits, repaired old 
 sails, picked oakum, put the spun-yarn wheel in motion, 
 while the Italian carpenter drove jack-plain, and the English 
 mate gave us specimens of rope-splicing and bending sails 
 according to the rules at Greenwich. 
 
 I noticed on board the Don Quixote, and elsewhere during 
 
 
TRAVELS IN THE C A L I F O n N I A S 
 
 49 
 
 >ny wanderings, a difference between British and American 
 seamen, which I believe to be quite general. It is this. The 
 Briton i^ better acquainted v/ith the things to be done on deck 
 and among the rigging than the American is. He splices a 
 rope better ; he knows better how to make a ship lock trim 
 and comely. But he knows comparatively nothing about 
 the hull of his craft. His seven years apprenticeship has been 
 devoled to learning the best mode of sailing a vessel and 
 keeping her in good condition. He learns nothing more. 
 The* American, on the other hand, begins at the kec/, and 
 reads up through every timber, plank and spike, io <he bul- 
 warks. And although he docs 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 
 '^uch skill and daring, as to outsail, as wJi as outmanage his 
 very clever rival. The Fatherland should be proud of Jona- 
 than. He is a rough, hard-featured lad ,' and in right of pri- 
 mogeniture, as well as other indisputable relations, he must 
 succeed to the paternal power over the seas. 
 
 A', meridian, on the 16th of April, we ascertained ourselves 
 to be about seventy-five miles from the American coast. All 
 "were weary of the voyage. It had been exceedingly monoto- 
 nous ; 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 fd' upon us like a shower of freez- 
 ing arrows, and drove everybiniv, fxcept officers and seamen, 
 below. The blowing, the raining, the (latter of quick fe« i 
 upon deck, the cry of the sailors, " luave-a-hoy !" is they 
 shorten sails and brace up the yards ; Mie heavy swells, beat- 
 ing the ship like ponderous battering-rams ; the air, that u^ 
 per ocean, running its flood most furiously upon lliat 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 withfleets of thunder-clouds chasinp* each othi r i ,,|ly, 
 and sending out the fire and noise of terrible conflict ! 1 ncse are 
 5 
 
 H 
 
 I 
 
 fe 
 
\\ 
 
 n 
 
 50 
 
 RCENKS IN THE PACIFIC 
 
 the I'eatures of that squall. Our good ship reeled and 
 trembled under the shock of the waters and windc, as if her 
 planks and timbers were separating. 
 
 Below at such a time was doubtless our safest birth, but 
 that was far from being peculiarly comfortable ! About half 
 of the passengers were on each side of the cabin, holding at 
 the births ; and when the ship rose on a billow and careened, it 
 straigh'ened those on the larboard side like lamprey-eels 
 hanging to rocks ; while, as the surge passed on, ihe ship 
 careened the other way, making eels of those on the ^tar- 
 board fii(l<t ! The furniture tumbled, the steward giving chase 
 fell in the midst of it j the Hawaian lass attempted to gain 
 her birth and iell ; and tumult, danger, sublimity, and the 
 ridiculous, united to provoke alternately our laughter, fea- 
 and admiration. It cleared up in un hour, however, and we 
 went OP again pleasantly, under a three-knot breeze. 
 
 On the evening of the 17th, we heard right gladly the 
 cry of " Land ho !" <' Where away V « A little on the 
 starboard bow !" I was in the cabin at the time. Any other 
 word spoken with a greater volume of voice would have 
 passed unheard. But land! land! the solid land! with its 
 odor of earth aiid flower, is a word which, if uttered in a 
 whisper, has deep music for one who has for twenty odd days 
 been stunned by contentious waves ; a sweetness and vigor 
 of meaning to the weary wayfarer >. ' " seas, which must be 
 heard, — " Land ahead." 
 
 Its winged messengers already twittered in the rigging ! 
 The shores loomed on the edge of the horizon! The 
 white cliffs on the north side of Monterey Bay, in Upper 
 California, were in sight ! We kept our course toward them 
 till dayUght-down, and then beat off and on till the dawn of 
 the following morning. 
 
 Jlpril 18th. The land, the glorious old land, is near us on 
 our left — five miles away ! The cattle of the Mission Santa 
 Cruz are grazing on the hills ! The matin bells are ringing 
 from its tower, and the arrowy light is routing the darkness 
 
 
 1 
 
 * - 
 
 J' 
 
 I 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIF OR MAS. 
 
 51 
 
 from the Californian mountains ! A morning of the blooming 
 spring poured down from Heaven on this Italy of America ! 
 A sunrise on the land ; 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 north- 
 east corner of the bay is a green gorge, dowt which flows a 
 small stream of pure water. Near its mouth, on a snug little 
 plain, stands the mission of Santa Cruz, with its 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 coi'ntry 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 which grow 
 a few trees of a soft and worthless character. But the 
 greenness of the whole surface in the spring of the year, and 
 tht absence of any abode of man, make it very appropriate 
 pasture-ground for the wild horses, oatth;, mules, and the 
 grisly bears, lions and elk, that herd upon it. 
 
 About five o'clock we round 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 custom- 
 house barge, and ordered back to the ship ! Whereupon a 
 parley takes place, during which we are informed that Cali- 
 fornia is in a state 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 wrath, I was about correcting myself, when a lean 
 
'T 
 
 53 
 
 SCENES IN T HE i- A C I !• 1 C , 
 
 villainous physiognomy, supported by a lank, long-armed and 
 long-shinned carcass, in lieutenant's epaulettes, replied in 
 French, " M, nion frire, Fram^ais," and immediately gave 
 orders for us to land. The boat therefore ran through the 
 surf, grazed upon the rocV and lay dry on the beach. 
 
 /U 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Mother Earlh — Revolution— Americans and British in Prison — A Guard 
 — A Governor — An Interview — An Alcalde —A Passport — A running 
 Salute— Cries for Air and Water— Despair— A Hjrrid Night— Star- 
 vation — Dungeons — A Demand — Signals — A course adopted — A 
 Leaf of History — General Eclir.anda and liis Deeds— A Tennessean 
 Hunter and a Clerk — A Camp Formed — A League — A March — Azi 
 Attack — A Banishment— Independence — An old Method of Reward- 
 ing Friends — A Notification — A Junto — Wagers and Seaoritas — A 
 Stratagem and its Consequences — Names of Prisoners. 
 
 On the land ! The human frame derives its vital elements 
 from the generous land ! The earth is our mother, and she 
 seems to rejoice when her children tread her threshold and 
 ask her for bread and happiness. 
 
 We inquired the cause of the reported tumult in the coun- 
 try, and were answered in brief whispers ! The speakers 
 looked cautiously around them for listening ears and Spanish 
 rapiers. It was difficult to find a man with an English tongue 
 and a white skin, who dared converse alone with us on any 
 subject. Indeed, it was impossible to do so, I'or whenever 
 the attempt was made, some Spaniard drew stealthily near to 
 listen ! And when the gentlemen from the ship left the land- 
 ing for the town, in company with some American and British 
 residents, the government officers mingled among them, and 
 changed the conversation cs often as it turned upon what they 
 
 i 
 
 il 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIA S 
 
 68 
 
 } 
 
 termed " the revolution." Men of stout hearts even spoke 
 httle. Tjife appeared to hang upon a breath in Monterey ! 
 We entered the house of an American merchant by the name 
 of Larkin, and sat down to tea. We did not eat alone ! An 
 officer of the government sat with us ! Conversation ran on 
 general topics. The cause of the apparent trepidation was in- 
 quired into by an American from the Don Quixote, but nothing 
 could be elicited. The official sat erect, sw-elled his person 
 into dignity, ate heartily, drank deeply, rose first from the 
 table, an intimation that we might follow his illustnous exam- 
 ple; burned his fingers in smoking a paper cigar, and at 
 length rolled his greasy form out of doors. 
 
 " Rid of you at last, thank God," said 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 resolv- 
 ed on our lives that they should ^e ; while all in low voice 
 spoke of the uncertainty of life for an hour in Monterey ! 
 
 The first duty, on setting foot 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 was obliging enough to accompany me to the 
 governor's residence. We found, before it, a small number 
 of men, who were usually complimented 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-shop savans. Their outer man is worth 
 a description. They wore raw bull'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 witliout lock ; and his four com- 
 rades were equally heroic, with kindred pieces, so deeply 
 
"T"' -"-"^ 
 
 64 
 
 SCENES IS THV. P A ( I !• f C , 
 
 I 
 
 i 
 
 rusted, that tlie absence of locks would have been an unim- 
 portant item in estimating their value. 
 
 We passed this valorous body, ascended a flight of stairs, 
 and entered the presence of governor Juan Baptiste Alva- 
 rado ; a well-formed, full-blooded, Californian Spaniard, five 
 feet eleven inches in height, with coal-black curly hair, deep 
 black eyes, fiercely black eye-brows, high cheek bones, an 
 aquiline nose, fine white teeth, brown complexion, and the 
 clearly marked mien of a pompous coward, clad in the broad- 
 cloth and whiskers of a gentleman. 
 
 When we entered he was sitting behind a kind of writing- 
 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 at us 
 with one corner of his mouth, while he cursed us with the 
 other ; seated himself, laid up his arms and hands on the 
 upper shelf of his abdomen, and asked if the ship had 
 anchored ! 
 
 El Goubernador had sundry reasons for making this inquiry 
 concerning the Don Quixote. The chief one, however, was, 
 that he and his officers, like all their 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 ' .se for new levies 
 on their credit. Let it not be supposed that I believe a Cali- 
 fornian Spaniard is ever so far false to .s nature, as to wish 
 his debts paid, while his credit will supply his wants. My 
 investigations into the character of his progenitors, both 
 Indian 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 most 
 vehemently protest. In plain words then, at the time the 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNrAS. 
 
 65 
 
 Don Quixote came into the bay, Alvarado and his officers 
 were deeply in debt, and distressed only to select means of 
 paying them, accordant with Californian honor. The arrival 
 of a ship in port furnished just these means. The manner in 
 which it did so may not be unworthy of specification. 
 
 El Alta California is a department of the Mexican Republic ; 
 and by law the moneys collected for port-duts and duties 
 belong to the revenue of the central government. But as the 
 right to life, property, and the pursuit of happiness is, among 
 the Californian Spaniards, construed to authorize both indi- 
 viduals and States to 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 large portion of the port-dues and duties, for 
 certain sums of money and quantities of goods for their own 
 personal use. Their capacity for this kind of plundering 
 formed in part the basis af their credit with foreign merchants 
 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 necessar. ^e a small 
 chance for robbery in the tonnage dues ; and if i hly 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 the humanity of transferring 
 me from idleness on shipboard to the enjoyment of Castilian 
 industry ashore ; to wit, lounging, grinning, sleeping, and 
 ving 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 
 
T 
 
 
 ; ''i^ 
 
 1 1' ,i 
 
 56 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC 
 
 be paid to Don Juan Baptiste Alvarado, El Goubernador del 
 Alta California, he frankly confessed that he saw no necessity, 
 indicated by his interest, why I should ever have existed, and 
 still less made any of my pleasures dependant on him or his 
 Alta California. 
 
 This I esteemed, as in all chivalry I was bound to do, an 
 exhibition of great elevation of character as well as an indi- 
 cation of the height from which Sa Excellentissimo had 
 descended to reach my case! Therefore, I bowed assent to 
 the majesty of such philanthropic and truly civilized opi- 
 nions. What man in Castilian presence could do otherwise 1 
 But a doubt still hung over the eyebrows of the don. He 
 looked at my height, six feet Green Mountain measure ; at 
 my wardrobe, consisting of a Hudson Bay Company's frock- 
 coat of blue, a speckled vest from London, pants of English 
 extraction, boots from the lapstones of Lynn ; and, shrugging 
 his shoulders like a grisly bear in an effort to be a gentle- 
 man, said we could go to the alcalde ; then with most sover- 
 eign emphasis bowed us out of his presence ! 
 
 The alcalde was at home, or rather in his adobie den ; for 
 there is neither a home nor the semblance of it in all the 
 Spanish world. He was taking his siesta, or midday nap, on 
 a bull's hide in the corner of his apartment. The dog, which 
 had barked us into his presence, had awakened him ; so that 
 when we entered 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 fine, and that various 
 other things existed in a definite state ; as that his dog was 
 yery fat ; the bean crop gave good promise j the Hawaian 
 Islands were ten leagues from Monterey ! ! ! the CaHfornians 
 were very brave men; and that the Don Quixote had not 
 come to anchor ! ! To each of these announcements I gave 
 an unqualified assent. 
 
 Having ascertained by these means that I was well- 
 instructed in beasts, beans, men and r Dgraphy, he imme- 
 
 
 fi. 
 
T K A V i: I, S IN 1' H li C A L 1 F O R N I A S . 
 
 57 
 
 (iiatcly took me into favor, expressed great surprise that my 
 Irieiul should have thought that he could refuse my request, 
 and assured me that it gave him infinite jileasure to write me 
 a permission of residence. Here it is. When the reader is 
 informed that it was an impromptu production, he will be 
 able to estimate, in a faint degree indeed, the intelligence and 
 genius of the Californians. Only one hour and a quarter 
 were consumed in bringing it torth ! 
 
 Mr. Thomas J. Famham pasageroeii la barca Americana Don duizote 
 
 habiendama manilebta do el pasporte de su consul y queriendo quidar en 
 
 tierra a (vertarblessc) en su salud le doy el presente bolito de des enbarco 
 
 eu el puerta de Monterey ! ! 
 
 A 18 de Abiil do 1840. 
 
 Antonio Ma. Orio. 
 
 A permission this to remain on shore as long as might be 
 necessary for the restoration of my health ! Having received 
 it with many demonstrations of regard, we took our leave of 
 the illustrious dignitary under a running salute from his dog, 
 and repaired to el casa del goubernador (the governor's 
 house). The dog accompanied us. He appeared to rejoice 
 in our presence. After he saw us pass into the governor's 
 door he howled piteously, and trotted off toward the prisons. 
 
 We obtained from Sa Excellentissimo a written confir- 
 mation of the alcalde's document, and returned to the house 
 of Mr. Larkin. • There we met a number of Americans and 
 Britons, from whom we learned that their countrymen were 
 famishing unto death in the prisons of the town ! A consulta- 
 tion, held in an upper room, in whispers, under the dreadful 
 certainty that death would be the penalty if it became known 
 to the demon government, ended the labors of that day and 
 night! The house of my friend was but a few rods from 
 some of the prisons, and when all was still at midnight, I could 
 hear, b(;tween the breaking surges on the beach, the prisoners 
 cry— 
 
 " Breathe fast, for God's sake ! I must come to the grate 
 soon or I shall suffocate !" 
 
,1 
 
 68 
 
 S C E N K S IN Til 1". 1' A (• I F I C 
 
 " Give me water, you merriless devils ! i^ive me water !" 
 " You infernal sons of the Inquisition, give me drink or fire 
 on me !" 
 
 And then another voice at the grate exclaimed, " Give us 
 something to eat ! God, we shall die here ! We can't 
 breathe ! Half of us can't speak !" 
 
 And then another voice, husky and weak, said, " Why !" 
 in a tone of despairing agony, which became so low and 
 inarticulate that I could not he; what followed. I had not 
 seen the prisoners, but their cries lanished sleep and all desire 
 to rest. I therefore went out upon the balcony, and seating 
 myself in a dark nook, watched, as well as I was able, the 
 movements in the town. 
 
 A portion of the troops were on duty as an armed patrol. 
 The tap of the drum and the challenge, " Quin vive ?" with 
 the reply, " Californias ;" " Quin jente ?" and the response, 
 " Mexicanos," broke in upon their heavy, sounding tramp ! 
 About four o'clock the men in the castello, or fort, became 
 alarmed by a cracking of dry brush in the neighboring wood, 
 and the patrol rushed to their rescue. It proved to be the 
 echo of their fears. The patrol soon returned to their posts, 
 and silence again reigned. It was a horrid night ! Nature 
 was laughing and bright on earth and in the sky. But fiends 
 had gone forth to mar her beauty. The same spirit which 
 had devastated the virtues and freedom of h^f the earth was 
 abroad in the wilds of California, as of old in Chili, torturing 
 those whose courage their bravado could not subdue, or their 
 pretension intimidate ! 
 
 The sun came up next morning most brightly in that clear 
 blue sky of California : but it shone on sadder hearts than I 
 had ever before seen. The flowers were creeping up along 
 the streets ; and the grasses, invigorated by the winter rains 
 and the warm days of spring, were growing on the hiils ; the 
 cattle and wild animals roamed about enjoying the rich liberty 
 which nature gave them. They possessed no qualities which 
 could excite the wakefulness of Spanish malignity ! They 
 
T U A V K I, S I N 'I' ir E (• A I, I F () K N I A S 
 
 :')i) 
 
 Were lowirijj; and IVolickin;^ out their iVeedoin on tlir kind and 
 boautil'ul earth. But man was raising the murderous blade 
 against his fellow ! 
 
 Mr. Laikin ma<le arrangements with the government to-day 
 to furnish the prisoners with food and drink. Their cells 
 were examined and foimd destitute of floors ! The ground 
 within was so wet that the; poor fellows sunk into it several 
 inches at every step. On this they stood, sat and slept ! 
 From fifty to sixty werr* crowded into a room eighteen or 
 twenty feet square ! Tliey could not all sit at once, even in 
 that vile pool, still less lie down ! The cells were so low and 
 tight that the only way of getting air enough to sustain life, 
 was to divide themselves into platoons, each of which in turn 
 stood at the grate awhile to breathe ! INlost of them had been 
 in prison seven and eight days, with no food except a trifling 
 quantity, clandestinely introduced by a few daring country- 
 men outside. When I arrived at the prisons some of them 
 were frantic ; others in a stupor of exhaustion ; one appeared 
 to be dying ! An American citizen went to the governor 
 with a statement of their condition, and demanded that both 
 Americans and Britons should be humanely treated ; that they 
 should have air, food, drink, permission to bathe, and dry 
 hides wherewith to cover the mud in their cells. 
 
 Since our arrival the Don Quixote had been lying off 
 and on. She usually ran out one morning and swept into the 
 harbor the next. This circumstance, together with the fact 
 that this American was always on the shore when the vessel 
 passed 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 impres- 
 sion was much strengthened, both by the accidental circum- 
 stance of his 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 conduct had the effect de- 
 signed. Those cowardly apologies of men became tho- 
 
 !i 
 
 ■Mi 
 
 y 
 
J** 
 
 I 
 
 I'i 
 
 I »a: 
 
 ^!il 
 
 60 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 roughly impressed that he bore in his own person the combined 
 powers of the American Republic and the British Empire* 
 Clothed, therefore, with authority so potent, he took measures 
 for the relief of the prisoners. 
 
 But, before entering upon the narration of these measures^ 
 it will be proper to give a history of the events which led to 
 the imprisonment of these men, and their Intended immolation.- 
 
 In 1836, a Mexican General by the "lame of Echuandra 
 was the Commandant General of Upper California. Some 
 years previous, as will be particularly sli..wn in another place, 
 he had come up from Mexico, with a band of fellow-myrm* ■ 
 dons, and having received the submission of the country to 
 the authorities of that Republic, commen'^ed robbing the Gov- 
 ernment for which he acted, and the several interests which he 
 had been sent to protect. Nothing escaped his mercenary 
 clutches. The people, the missions, and the revenue were 
 robbed indiscriminately os opportunity offered. A few of the 
 white population of the country participated iu these acts. 
 But generally the Californians were th? sufferers ; and, as is 
 plways the case with unhonoreJi rogues, raised a perpetual 
 storm of indignation about the dishonest deeds of those whom 
 they desired to supplant, for the purpose of enacting the same 
 things. An occurrence of thivS kind was the immediate cause 
 of the Revolution in 1836. 
 
 A vessel had cast anchor in the harbor of Monterey. Gen- 
 eral Echuandra, not having that honorable confidence in the 
 immaculate integrity of the custom-house officers, which 
 thieves are accustomed to have in one another, placed a guard 
 on board the craft, to prevent them frorr: receiving bribes for 
 their own exclusive benefit. To this the officers demurred ; 
 and in order to free their territory from the creptures of one, 
 whose conscience would compel him to reser -^e bribes for his 
 own pocket instead of theirs, they sent their own clerk, a 
 younger rascal of the country, by the name of Juan Baptiste 
 Alvarado, to inform the general that it was impropt" to sug- 
 gest, by putting a guard on board, that th vfficers of the ship 
 
TRAVELS IN THE C A L I F R N 1 A S , 
 
 61 
 
 which lay under the fort, either intended or dared attempt, to 
 evade the payment of duties ! ! 
 
 The General, however, was too well acquainted with his 
 inalienable rights, to be wheedled out of them in this manner ; 
 and manifested his indignation toward the clerk, for attempting 
 to obtrude his plebeian presence on his golden dream, by order- 
 ing him to be put in irons. Alvarado, however, escaped. He 
 lied into the country, rallied the farmers, who still loved the 
 descendants of Philip the Second more than El Presidenfey 
 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 f'lontiersof 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, 
 striking 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 reoard 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 iaithful 
 aim. He became a beaver hunter — a cavalier of the 
 wilderness — that noble specimen of brave men who have 
 muscles for riding wild horses and warring with wild 
 beasts, a steady brain and foot for climbing the icy preci- 
 pice, a strong breast for the mountain torrent, an unrelent- 
 ing trap for the beaver, a keen eye and a deadly shot for a 
 foe. A man was this Graham, who stood up boldly before 
 his kind, conscious of possessing physical and mental powers 
 adequate to any emergency. He had a stiong aversion to the 
 elegant edifices, the furniture, wardrobe, and food of polished 
 life, coupled with a vivid love of mountain sublimity, the beau- 
 tiful herbage on uncultivated districts, the wild animals and 
 the streams of Wv'^ter roaring down the frozen heights. Kven 
 9 
 
 I 
 
 
6d 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC 
 
 
 r 
 
 the grey deserts with the hunger and thirst incident to travel- 
 ling over them, had wild and exciting charms for him. On 
 these his giant frame had obstacles to contend witK worthy 
 of its powers ; suffering and even old Death himself to take 
 by the throat and vanquish. These and the open air by a 
 projecting 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 yefar; an abundance of native animals covered the 
 hills, and nature was spread out luxuriantly evei-ywhere, 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 plains he herded large bands of 
 horses, mules and cattle. To this fine old fellow Alvarado 
 made known his peril and designs ; whereupon the foreigners 
 assembled at Graham's summons, elected him their captain, 
 an 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 j and that the law, 
 which incapacitated foreigners from holding real estate, should 
 be abrogated. The foreigners agreed, on these conditions, to 
 aid Alvarado to the utmost of their power. The next morn- 
 ing the united forces, fifty foreigners and twenty-five Califor- 
 nians, 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 
 
 \i' 
 
 i 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIF ORNIAS 
 
 63 
 
 occurred till the night came on, when the awe with which 
 darkness sometimes inspires even the bravest minds, fell with 
 such overwhelming power on the valorous garrison, that not- 
 witlistanding 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 abso- 
 lutely compelled to forsake the ramparts, for the more certain 
 protection of unmolested flight ! 
 
 Graham and his men perceiving this discomfiture of their 
 enemies, availed themselves of their absence by taking posses- 
 sion of the evacuated fort. Alvarado, meantime, actuated, it 
 is to be presumed, by a desire to save life and a philosophical 
 conviction of the dangers incident to bullets rendered crazy 
 by burning powder, restrained the fiery ardor of his tw^enty- 
 five Californians, and held his own person beyond the reach 
 of harm, in case some luckless horse or cow, straying 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 aiixiety and alarm. 
 
 A battle had almost been begun in Monterey ! The blood 
 of their enemies had almost begun to fatten the soil of Cali- 
 fornia ! They themselves had nearly stepped in blood knee 
 deep, among the carcases of the hated Mexicans ; the besom 
 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 around 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 dismounted thirty-two 
 pounder, querying whether they could repair its woodwork so 
 
m 
 
 w 
 
 64 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 as to. bring it to bear on the Presiilio or government house. 
 Others stood by a bucket of water, swabbing out their rifle 
 barrels, and cleaning and drying the locks. Others of them 
 were cooking beef; others whittling, swearing, and chewing 
 tobacco. 
 
 About nine o'clock flags of truce began their onerous 
 duties. Alvarado came from the woods and took part in the 
 councils. The insurgents demanded the surrender of the Gov- 
 ernment; whereat the cavaliers of the Presidio considered 
 tliemselves immeasurably insulted. Two days were passed in 
 this parleying without advancing the interests of either party. 
 They were days big with the fate of the future ; and who 
 could weary under their dreadful burthens ? Not such men 
 as Alvarado. He bore himself like the man he was, through 
 all the trying period, lie uniformly preferred delay to fight- 
 ing ! lie was sustained in this preteronce 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. For not a single one of them manifest- 
 ed the slightest impatience or insubordination under the delay 
 — a fact which perhaps demonstrates the perfection of mili- 
 tary discipline in California ! The foreigners difJered 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 
 distinguished fellow-statesman, he sent a flag to the Presidio 
 with notice that two hours only would be given the Governor 
 and his officers to surrender themselves prisoners of war. 
 The demand of the old Tennessean, however, was disregard- 
 ed. The appointed time passed without the surrender. For- 
 bearance was at an end. The lieutenant of Graham's rifle 
 corps was ordered to level a four pound brass piece at the 
 Presidio. A ball was sent through its tiled roof, immediately 
 over the heads of the Mexican magnates ! 
 
 • Bears. 
 
 I 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CAI, IF0RNIA8. 
 
 65 
 
 >i 
 
 It is wonderful how a small portion of necessity minp;led 
 with human affairs will quicken men's perceptions of duty. 
 No sooner did the broken tiles rattle around the heads of these 
 valiant warriors, than they became suddenly convinced that 
 it would be exceedingly hazardous to continue their resistance 
 against such an overwhelming force ; and that the central 
 government at Mexico would not be so unreasonable as to ex- 
 pect four or five hundred troops to hold out against Los Rifle- 
 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 airms ! 
 The emblems of office were transferred to the custom-house 
 clerk ! When these things had transpired. General Echuan- 
 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 Alta 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 been able to count the said seventy-five at 
 the distance of five hundred yards, during the lapse of two 
 days ! Difficulties in the use of optics often occur in Califor- 
 nian warfare 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 
 shipped to San Bias. Juan Baptiste Alvarado, customs' clerk, 
 proclaimed El Alta California an independent republic, and 
 himself its governor. But more of this on a subsequent page. 
 It suffices my present purpose to have shown how far this 
 Alvarado was indebted to the foreigners, dying in his prisons, 
 for the station and power which he was using for their destruc- 
 tion. He could never have obtained possession of Monterey 
 without them. And had they not slept on their rifles for 
 months after that event, a party in the South under his uncle 
 Don Carlos Carrillo, or another in the north under his uncle 
 
m 
 
 66 
 
 S C K N K .S I N T 11 i: PACIFIC 
 
 
 f\' 
 
 m* 
 
 4^ 
 
 il 
 
 Guadaloupe Viejo, would have tort) 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 such unpolished, ungloved 
 impudence ; threatened much, and at last in September, 1837, 
 induced Alvarado to buy a ship, send despatches to Mexico, 
 and become El Goubernador Constitutionel del Jllta Califor- 
 nia, associated with his uncle Viejo, as Commandantc General. 
 After this adhesion to the Mexican Government, Alvarado 
 became suspicious of the foreigners who had aided him in the 
 " Revolution," and sought every means of annoying them. 
 They might depose him as they had done Echuandra. And 
 if vengeance were always a certain consequent 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 Ibund it convenient to for- 
 get. Like Spaniards of all ages and countries, after having 
 been well served by his friends, he rewarded them with the 
 most heartless ingratitude. 
 
 Graham in particular was closely watched. A bold open- 
 handed man, never concealing for an instant either his love or 
 hatred, but with the frankness and generosity of those great 
 souls, rough-hewn but majestically honest, who belong to the 
 valley States, he told the Governor his sins from time to 
 time, and demanded in the authoritative tone of an elder and 
 affectionate brother, that he should redeem his pledges. The 
 good old man did not remember that a Spaniard would have 
 lost his nationahty had he done so. A Spaniard tell the 
 truth ! A Spaniard ever grateful for services rendered him ! 
 He should have knocked at the tombs of Columbus and Cortes, 
 and every other man who ever served that contemptible race. 
 He would have learned the truth, and gathered wisdom from 
 it. He asked for justice, and received what we shall pre- 
 sently see. 
 
 Graham loved a horse. He had taken a fine gelding with 
 
 
 \ 
 
 ml 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIAS. 
 
 67 
 
 
 him when he emigrated to the country, and trained him for 
 the turf. Every year he had challenged the whole country to 
 the course, and as often won everything wagered against his 
 noble steed. Jose Castro, a villain w'ith a lean body, dark 
 face, black mustachios, pointed nose, flabby cheeks, uneasy 
 eyes, and hands and heart so foul, as instinctively to require a 
 Spanish cloak in all sorts of weather, to cover them, and his 
 Excellentissimo were among Graham's heaviest debtors. Be- 
 hold the reasons for their enmity. 
 
 Another cause of the general feeling against the Americans 
 and Britons 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 Ameri- 
 cans and Britons, that such indignities could not be borne by 
 Castilian blood ; " for a Californian Cavaliero cannot woo a 
 Scnorita if opposed in his suit by an American sailor, and 
 these heretics must be cleared from the land." 
 
 Such were the causes operating to arouse the wrath and 
 ripen the patriotism of the Californians. The vengeance of 
 baffled gallantry bit at the ear of Captain Jose Castro ; the 
 fear of being brought to justice by Graham, tugged at the 
 liver of Alvarado ; and love the keenest, and hate the bitter- 
 est, in a soul the smallest that was ever entitled to the 
 breath of life, burnished the little black eyes and inflamed the 
 little thm nose of one Corporal Pinto. These were the wor- 
 thies who projected the onslaught on the foreigners. Their 
 plan of operation was the shrewdest one ever concocted 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, therclore, it was apparent that if they were to get 
 one or two hundred of these men into their power, it must be 
 done by stratagem. Accordingly, Graham's annual challenge 
 for the spring races in 1840, was conveniently construed into 
 
 'i 
 
 
" 
 
 w 
 
 68 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 a disguised attempt to gather his friends for the purpose of 
 overthrowing Alvarado's Government. This suggestion was 
 made to the minor leading interests, civil and military, and a 
 Junto was formed for the safety of the State ; or in plain 
 truth, for the gratification of the several personal enmities 
 and jealousies of half a dozen scoundrels, who, disregard- 
 ing the most sacred pledges to their friends, would rob them 
 oT their property and sacrifice their lives. 
 
 This Junto marshalled their forces at Monterey, and adopted 
 the following plan for accomplishing their fiendish designs : — 
 The 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 foreign- 
 ers, with instructions to convey them with dispatch before the 
 Alcaldes of the neighboring missions. This they accom- 
 plished. The victims, on receiving information that the Al- 
 caldes desired to see them, 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 those establish- 
 ments 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. 
 But 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 the 
 prisons of the several missions, Alvarado and Castro marched 
 
 
 
T U A V l; t S IN '1' U K C A I, I K O U N I A S 
 
 69 
 
 
 tlieir whole disposaljle tbrcc to one mission after another and 
 brought them in heavy irons, a few at a time, to the Govern- 
 ment <hingeons at Monterey ! 
 
 The names of some of these men, together with their places 
 of residence in Calil'ornia, which I happened to preserve, 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 Pueblo San Jose, were, William 
 Blirkin, George Fergusson, Thomas Thomas, W^illiam Lang- 
 leys, Jonathan JVIirayno, William Weeks, Jonathan Coppinger, 
 William Ilauts, Chailes Brown, Thomas Tomlinson, Richard 
 Westlake, James Pt ace, Robert McCallister, Thomas Bowen, 
 Elisha Perry, Nathan Daily, Robert Livermore, William 
 Gulenack, Jonathan Marsh, Peter Storm, Job Dye, William 
 Smith, Jonathan Warner, and two Frenchmen. 
 
 Those from Santa Cruz were, William Thompson, James 
 Barnes, F. Eagle, Henry Knight, Jonathan Lucas, George 
 Chapel, Henry Cooper, Jonathan Herven, Ji'mes Lowyado, 
 Francisco LaGrace, Michael Lodge, Josiah Whitehouse, Ro- 
 bert King. 
 
 From Nativada, Graham's neighborhood, were, Isaac Gra- 
 ham, Daniel Goffj William Burton, Jonathan Smith, and 
 Henry Niel. 
 
 Those resident at Selenias, were, W^illiam Chard, James 
 O'Brien, William Bronda, W^illiam Malthas, Thomas Cole, 
 Thomas Lewis, William Ware, and James Majous. 
 
 In Monterey were, Leonard Carmichael, Edward Watson, 
 Andrew Watson, Hemy McVicker, H. Hathaway, Henry 
 Bee, William Trevavan, Jonathan Maynard, W^illiam Hen- 
 derson, James Meadows, Jonathan Higgins, Maik West, 
 George Kenlock, Jeremiah Jones, Jonathan Chamberlain, 
 
 Daniel , Joseph Bowles, James Kelley, James Fairwell, 
 
 Walter Adams, Mr. Horton, James Atterville, Mr. Jones, 
 
70 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC 
 
 Jonathan Christian, William Chay, William Dickey, Charles 
 WilUams, Alvan Willson. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE PRISONERS. 
 
 Forty-one of the prisoners whose names appear on the 
 concluding pages of the last Chapter, furnished me with 
 written accounts of their arrest, and subsequent treatment. 
 Believing that the reader will be more interested in these, 
 than in any aljstract that could be made of them, I will trans- 
 cribe a few which best illustrate this barbarous persecution. 
 
 " I, Isaac Graham, a citizen of the United States of Ame- 
 rica, came across the continent to California, with a passport 
 from the Mexican authorities v Chihuahua, and obtained 
 from the General commanding in Upper California, a license 
 to run a distillery in that country, for the term of eight years ; 
 this business I have followed since that time. 
 
 " On the sixth of April last ( 1S40) there appeared to be 
 mischief brewing. But what it would prove to be, none of 
 us could tell. The Ciililbrnian Spaniards travelled unusually 
 much about the country ; and conversed with the foreigners 
 rather shyly. They had threatened to drive us out of Califor- 
 nia several times ; and we tried to guess whether they were 
 at last preparing to accompUsh it. But from what we saw 
 it was impossible to form a satisfactory conclusion. 
 
 " On the same day, however, Jose Castro, Bicenta Con- 
 trine, Ankel Castro, and a runaway Botany Bay English con- 
 vict, by the name of Garner, a vile fellow, and an enemy of 
 mine, because the foreigners would not elect him their cap- 
 tain, passed and repassed my house several times, and con- 
 
 li 
 
TRAVELS IN THE c;ALIFORNIA.S. 
 
 71 
 
 I 
 
 t N 
 
 Versed together in low tones of voice. 1 stopped Jose Castro, 
 and asked him what was the matter. He replied that he was 
 going to march against the Comnjandante General Viego, at 
 San Francisco, to depose him from the command of the 
 forces. His two companions made the same assertion. I 
 knew that Alvarado was afraid of Viego, and that Jose Castro 
 was ambitions for his place ; and for these reasons, I partly 
 concluded that they spoke the truth. 
 
 "A liille later in the day, however, the vagabond Garner 
 called at my house, and having drunk freely of whisky, 
 became rather boisterous, and said, significantly, that the time 
 of some people would be short ; that Jose Castro had received 
 orders from the governor to drive the foreigners out of Cali- 
 fornia, or to dispose of them in some other way. He boasted 
 that he himself should have a pleasant participation in the 
 business. I could not persuade him to inform me vhen or in 
 what manner this was to take ])lac('. I had heard the same 
 threat made a number of times within the past year, but 
 it resulted in nothing. Believing, therefore, that Garner's 
 words proceeded from the whisky he had drunk, rather than 
 the truth, I left hira in the yard, and in company with my 
 partner, Mr. Niel, went to bed. Messrs. Morris and Barton, 
 as usual, took to their couches in the still-house. 
 
 " We slept quietly, until about three o'clock in the morn- 
 ing, when I was awakened by the discharge of a pistol near 
 my head, the ball of which passed through the handkerchief 
 about my neck. I sprang to my feet, and jumped in the 
 direction of the villains, when they discharged six other 
 pistols, so near me, that ray shirt took fire in several places. 
 Fortunately, the darkness and the trepidation of the cowards, 
 prevented their taking good aun ; for only one of their shots 
 took effect, and that in my left arm. 
 
 " After firing they fell back a few paces and commenced 
 reloading their pieces. I perceived by the light of their pis- 
 tols that they were too nmnerous for a single man to contend 
 with, and determined to escape. But I had scarcely got six 
 
 '••IS 
 
79 
 
 SCKNKS I PI THK PACIFIC. 
 
 
 
 paces from the door wlion T was overtaken and assailed 
 with heavy blows from their swords. These I succeeded in 
 parryiiio olf to such extent that I was not much injured by 
 them. Ui'int^ incensed at last by ray successful resistance, 
 they grappled with me, and threw me down, when an ensign 
 by the name of Joa'juin Terres drew his (firk, and saying with 
 an oath that he would let out my life, made a thrust at my 
 heart. (Jod saved me again. The weapon passing between 
 my body and left arm, sunk deep in the ground 1 and before 
 he had an opportunity of repeating his blow they dragged rac 
 up the hill in the rear of my house, where .Jose Castro was 
 standing. Tliey called to him, 'Here he is! here he is!' 
 whereupon Castro rode up and struck me with the back of his 
 sMrord over the head so severely as to bring me to the ground ; 
 and then ordered four balls to be put through me. But this 
 was prevented by a faithful Indian in my service, who threw 
 himself on me, declaring that he would receive the balls in his 
 own heart ! 
 
 " Unwilling to be thwarted, however, in their design to de- 
 stroy me, they next fastened a rope to one of my arms, and 
 passed it to a man on horseback, who wound it firmly around 
 the horn of his saddle. Then the rest of them, taking hold 
 of the other arm, endeavored to haul my shoulders out of joint ! 
 But the rope broke. Thinking the scoundrels bent on killing 
 me in some way, I begged for liberty to commend my soul to 
 God. To this they replied, * You shall never pray till you 
 kneel over your grave.' They then gonducted me to my 
 house and permitted me to put on my pantaloons. While 
 there they asked where Mr. Morris was. I told them I did 
 not know. They then put their lances to my breast and told 
 me to call him or die. I answered that he had made his es- 
 cape. While I was saying this, Mr. Niel came to the house, 
 pale from loss of blood and vomiting terribly. He had had a 
 lance thrust through his thigh, and a deep wound in his 
 leg, which nearly separated the cord of the heel. 
 
 " They next put Mr. Niel and myself in double irons, car- 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CAI. (FORNIAS. 
 
 73 
 
 I 
 
 
 ried us half a mile into the plain, left us under j^uard, and 
 returned to plunder the house. After havinjjf been absent a 
 short time, they came and conducted us back to our rilled 
 home. As soon as we arrived there, a man by the name of 
 Manuel Larias approached me with a drawn sword, and com- 
 manded me to inform him where my money was buried. I 
 told him I had none. He cursed me and turned away. I had 
 some deposited in the ground, but I determined they should 
 never enjoy it. After having robbed me of my books and 
 papers, which were all the evidence I had that these very 
 scoundrels and others were largely indebted to me, and hav- 
 ing taken whatever was valuable on my premises, and distri- 
 buted it among themselves, they proceeded to take an inven- 
 tory of what was left, as if it were the whole of my property ; 
 and then put me on horseback and sent me to this prison. 
 You know the rest. I am chained like a dog, and suffer like 
 
 one, 
 
 >> 
 
 Mr. Albert F. Morris, whose name appears in Graham's 
 account of his arrest, gives me some farther particulars. It 
 may be well here to say, that this Morris was a British subject, 
 a descendant of the former Surveyor-General of Nova Sco- 
 tia or New Brunswick. Having strayed from friends and 
 home, he found himself in Cahfornia destitute of the means 
 of livelihood. In this state of want he hired himself to Gra- 
 ham as a laborer in his distillery ; and was living on his pre- 
 mises in that capacity at the time of the events just related. 
 
 " On the night of the sixth of April, 1840, when we were 
 about going to bed, two persons arrived who asked for lodg- 
 ings. Mr. Graham told them they might find quarters with 
 us in the distillery. They dismounted and took bed with me 
 and Mr. Barton ; and Messrs. Graham and his partner Neil 
 took their bed in the house, about thirty yards distant 
 from us. 
 
 " Nothing occurred to disturb us until about three o'clock 
 in the morning, when, being awakened by a loud knocking at 
 the distillery door, I sprang out of my bed, and asked who 
 7 
 
 .f 
 
 * i 
 
^ 
 
 74 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 Was there 1 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 was being done, a number of people outside called out, 
 * Where is Graham 1 Tear the devil in pieces !' and imme- 
 diately afterward rushed with great violence against the door. 
 I told them to wait a moment, but they cried out with still 
 greater clamor for Graham, and seemed to rush towards the 
 house whore he slept. Quite a number, however, remained 
 at the disUllery, beating at the door in a savage manner and 
 threatening death to the inmates. I drew ray pistols, and at 
 tjiat instant Nicholas Alviso called aloud for all hands to beat 
 down the door. On they came against it; I firea ; and they 
 retm'ned the fire and wounded : e in the left side. I then 
 seized my rifle and snapped it at them ; they retreated, and 
 I escaiKid mto 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 Niel. I hea^-d 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 eiglat miles to the farm of Mr. Littlejohn, where I 
 remained two days. Then, with an Indian to guide me, I 
 rode to the mission of Santa Cruz on the north side of Mon- 
 terey Bay. Here I called at the houses of Messrs. Pye and 
 Young ;, told them what had happened, and went up among 
 the hills for Siifety. 
 
 " On the sixteenth, Francisco Young r.'ame to me and said, 
 that Captain Barlinen had come after me with a company ot 
 riflemen. He assured me that I should not be put to death or 
 manacled if I surrendered myself without resistance. I con- 
 cluded after some hesitation to do so, a.iu followed him down 
 to Mr. Dye's distillery. There I fomd Captain Burlinen, with 
 eleven Californians, armed wilii the rifles which they had 
 taken from the Britons and Americans. After obtaining a 
 
 ii 
 
 i 
 
 
TRAVELS IN 1 11 K < A t. I K O R N I A S . 
 
 75 
 
 promise from the captain that ray life should not be taken 
 and that I should not be put in irons or otherwise bound, 1 
 delivered my rifle to him and became his prisoner. I was then 
 marched down to the Mission of Santa Cruz between the sol- 
 diers, and put under guard until the next morning. 
 
 " Soon after sunrise on the seventeenth they began pre- 
 parations for taking me to Monterey. I had, when escaping 
 from Graham's premises, left most of my clothing, and not 
 knowing in wlmt this affair might end, I desired the captain 
 to take me by that route. To this he consented. But it was 
 of no service to me ; for I found both my portmanteaus 
 broken open and all my clothing stolen Mr. Niel was in the 
 house. He had been badly wou«ded in the affray of the 
 sixth. A lance had bec" thrust through his thigh, and a deep 
 sabre cut inflicted upon the leg. He told me that the Bo- 
 tany Bay Garner did it. 1 saw several balls stirkinjr ni the 
 walls of the bedroom in which Mr. Niel lay. The floor was 
 much stained with 1 lood. The promises had been plundered. 
 We stayed at Graham's house an hour, and proceeded 
 towards Monterey. 
 
 " I arrived in town the next (liiy. It was occupied by sol- 
 diers, and the prisons filled with foreigners. They imme- 
 diately put me in double-irons, and carried me before a body 
 of men who pretended to act as a court of justice. ' 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 was 
 Nariago. He was by ro means capable of the task. But I 
 was compelled to accept hira or none, and go into the exami- 
 nation. I was sworn ; and then the interpreter said it was 
 well known that I h..<l been writing letters against the gov- 
 ernment. I asked him to produce the letters, that 1 might see 
 them. He replied, • thai is not necessary.' H'^ then said 
 thai M''. Graham was at the head of an attempted revolu- 
 tionary movement against the government, and that I knew 
 something about it 1 replied tliat I had never heard Mr. 
 
 '11 
 
70 
 
 SCENES IN T HE PACIFIC 
 
 ii 
 
 l« 
 
 Graham suggest anything of the kind. I said that he had 
 expressed a determination to represent to the governor the 
 shameful treatment of Mr. Higgins ; and the outrage upon 
 the foreigners while they were burying their countrymen 
 at Santa Barbara; and particularly the monstrous deed of 
 digging him up after burial, and leaving his corpse naked 
 above ground. I confessed I had offered to 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 1 did it in self-defence. 
 He inquired how that could be. I told him, as it was impos- 
 sible for me in the night time to see those who made the 
 assault on the distillery, I eould not know whether they were 
 the authorized agents of the government, or robbers whom it 
 was my duty to resist. My lile 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 supposed them robbers. 1 said that I had no time 
 to do so between their attempts to kill me and my own neces- 
 sary acts to prevent them j and that if I had had opportunity 
 I had no assurance, under the circumstances, that government 
 vrould protect me. This last answer was translated with 
 some embellishments ; 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 why I lied to 
 Santa Cruz. My reply was that I had lost all confidence in 
 the justice of the government, and tlew to the wilderness for 
 protection. At this the alcalde was greatly incensed, ordered 
 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 staled that I did not suppose myself obliged to 
 j)lace my signature to an instrument written in a language 
 which I could not read. I signed it with swords over my 
 head. What the paper contained I never knew. They would 
 
T U A V E L S IN THE C A I. I F O R N ! A 5* 
 
 77 
 
 ad 
 
 he 
 
 3n 
 
 m 
 
 )f 
 
 id 
 
 to 
 
 It 
 
 ■ 
 
 not allow me to attempt to read it. The examination being 
 ended, they took me to the fort and placed me under a strong 
 guard lor the night. The next day, the nineteenth of April^ 
 they marched me under escort of a company of infantry into 
 the public green, before the government house, to hear pray- 
 ers. After which, I have no doubt, they intended to shoot 
 me, but were prevented from doing it through the fear of 
 
 Mr. .» 
 
 I have other interesting narrati.es showing the most inhu- 
 man conduct in the Governor of Upper California, while 
 arre these Americans and Britons, which I must pass for 
 
 want o pace. There is one, however, that refers more espe- 
 cially to the causes which brought many of them into a coun- 
 try where they were subject to sudl merciless usage, that I 
 cannot prevail on myself to omit. It is a saying among sea- 
 men 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-j 
 
 I i 
 
 
 " I left the American ship Hope, of Philadelphia, in Ma- 
 nilla, and there being no chance of getting a passage to the 
 United States from that place, I went passer.ger to Macao, in 
 the ship llasselas, 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 
 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 ;~o on shore. But he 
 said all might go except William Warren, Robert M.Alister, 
 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 agreement. 
 7* 
 
78 
 
 SCENES 
 
 T H K PACIFIC 
 
 « t 
 
 H 
 
 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 j when he kicked luc over the eye with a 
 large heavy shoe he had on at the time. A ad when the pain 
 made me start to my feet, with the blood nmning down my 
 face, he said that I wanted to kill him with a knife, and 
 immediately 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 out of his pocket, 
 cut the shirt off my back, and gave me two dozen lashes with 
 his own hand. After this I was taken down and thrown in 
 the longboat among the hogs, and fed on bread and water for 
 a fortnight. In this situation I sulFered very much. For I 
 was ironed hand and fJot, the weather was extremely cold, 
 and I was without shirt, shoes and stockings. At the end of 
 the two weeks the ship arrived in port, and I was taken out 
 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. 
 In this settlement 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 over- 
 land to St. Petersburg ; finding a vessel there from the States, 
 however, I wanted to ship in her, but was detained by the 
 Russian government, and forced to work for the Russian Ame- 
 rican 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 fo. iv*o and a half years. 
 
THAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIAS, 
 
 ■9 
 
 I got a passage to Sitka, Northwest America, where, after 
 five months' working for the Russians, I was permitted to go 
 away iii the brig Baical, and was discharged in San Francisco. 
 
 " John Warner, of Scotland." 
 
 
 The next event in this poor fellow's life was his imprison- 
 . ent in California. His sufferings there were scarcely less 
 than those he had endured 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 excitiiig 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 violent- 
 ly from their ho; ses by Indians, and frequently much bruised 
 by the fall. Their tormentors then searched them, took forci- 
 ble possession of their money, knives, flints, 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 in- 
 formed, that there had been considerable 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 'liings of that kind, 
 which rendered it 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 authorities 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 should violate such compact 
 with the United States, that go\ rnment would seek redn^fiS 
 from Mexico ; that the Califoihian government was the mere 
 
.' 
 
 
 80 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC 
 
 agent of the Central government, and therefore not responsi- 
 ble to other nations for its administration. The Mexican 
 governmf'nt 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 injury 
 which its authorities should inflict on the persons and rights 
 of other nations, might well be redressed on the persons ar^^ 
 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 a 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 liis apartment, 
 bellowing fearfully, and raising a very dense cloud ol 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 prisoners 
 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, Alvarado's captain, 
 advising him not to appear m the streets again, for he feared 
 
T R A V i; I, S IN T n K C A I, I F O R N I A 8 . 
 
 81 
 
 I ^ 
 
 that liis life would be taken by tlie subalterns of the insulted 
 government ! ! 
 
 'i'his message \s'as intended to prevent him from appearing 
 before the grates, and encouraging the prisoners to bear their 
 suflerings like men worthy their high extraction ; and also to 
 deter him from interl'ering with the unholy purposes of the 
 Government against their lives, ^t failed of its object. His 
 reply was, that he did not at that time comprehend the neces- 
 sity 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 feelings. At 
 sunset he walked down to the prisons, heard again through 
 the grates the cries of their tenants for air and water, and re- 
 turned to Mr. Larkin's, to pass a miserable night — a night of 
 unavailing compassion. 
 
 The next da^ he "'vent into two of the cells, took the names 
 and residence of a portion of the prisoners, and learned their 
 general condition. They had nothing on which to sleep or 
 sit except the wet grounil ; were emaciated, pale and sickly ; 
 some of them could scarcely walk to the grate to get 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 
 before the prison, for his presence obtained them better 
 treatment from their enemies, and encouraged the more de- 
 sponding to expect through him deliverance frojn their 
 sufferings ! » 
 
 Graham's cell was under a double guard. It could not be 
 approached. People were even forbidden to pass it. I occa- 
 sionally 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 the ingrate 
 Alvarado. He had made the rascal into a governor ; and this 
 was the beginning of his reward. 
 
 The afternoon was spent in much perplexity by the oflBcers 
 
89 
 
 SCENES IN T HE 1' A C 1 K ! C 
 
 f^ 
 
 ! : 
 
 M 
 
 .1' 
 
 if 
 
 if- 
 
 1 
 
 of the government. They believed the American to be some- 
 thing more than a Commodore. His precise rank they could 
 not determine. It was evident to them that he had a fleet 
 outside under his command ! But he spoke and acted as if he 
 not only had authority on the seas, but the land also, even in 
 Los CaUfornias ! He was everywhere present, forbidding one 
 thing and ordering anoth^ rushing into the governor's 
 apartments, upbraiding him for his acts, and threatening to 
 bring destruction upon the town, unless all his capricious 
 wishes in regard to the rebels were gratified. His character 
 was an enigma. If he assumed it, death was too light a pun- 
 ishment. If he were really a high agent of the Republic of 
 North America, his bearing and acts comported with his cha- 
 racter, and indicated that great circumspection would be ne- 
 cessary in the course adopted toward the prisoners. 
 
 Mr. Larkin was called upon to express his opinion in this 
 rexed matter ; but he very properly said that lie knew nothing 
 about it, except that this man appeared to be one who under- 
 stood his duties, whatever they were; and suggested that 
 it might not be well to disregard his opinions, or otherwise 
 treat him with disrespect. The subaltern dignitaries thereupon 
 made their complimentary acknowledgments to the American, 
 and passed a part of the day with him and Mr. Larklfl. It 
 pleased them to say many handsome things of the bravery and 
 intelligence of the citizens of the States. They were told in 
 reply that the United States expected the prisoners to be re- 
 leased from unjust and tyrannical imprisonment. The Senors 
 bowed assent ; but mentioned as a diflicuUy in the way of 
 this proceeding, that to release them would be an act of great 
 disrespect to the governor, Juan Baptiste Alvarado. To this 
 it was replied that such disrespect would not be very alarming 
 — not quite so serious as the Paixhan guns of an American or 
 British man-of-war ! 
 
 Another night of suffering in the prisons. " Heat, heat ! 
 Air ! for God's sake give us air ! air ! You brown devils, 
 
 n 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALlFORNtAS. 
 
 83 
 
 give us air !" were heard at intervals, till the noise of openin"f 
 day drowned these agonizing entreaties. 
 
 On the morning of the twenty-first, the American 
 was relused any intercourse with the prisoners. During 
 the forenoon, therefore, he walked many times past the 
 grates of the several buildings ; stopped often and en- 
 couraged t^e inmates by his mien to hope on still. Mr. 
 Larkin had fetl them liberally in the morning, and furnished 
 every cell with an abundant supply of water. Yet they 
 suffered greatly ! They looked on damp prison walls, and 
 dragged chains at their wrists and ancles ! They stood or sat 
 or lay on poached mud ! They saw in the future every image 
 of coming evil ! Suffocation, the pangs of death one at a 
 time, coming slowly by day and among the sleepless moments 
 of the long and hot night — life pendent on the mercy of a 
 Californian Spaniard. These constituted their condition* 
 
 About noon of the 21st, a half-brocd Spaniard rode into town 
 at lull speed, and helil a hurried conversation with the guard 
 around the prison, and then entered the house of the Governor. 
 A few moments having elapsed he reappeared and went to 
 the quarters of Jose Castro. A moment more Castro came 
 upon the green, issued a hasty ord.'ir to Corporal Pinto, and 
 repaired to the Governor The horseman, meantime, gallop* 
 ed rapidly to the Castello. Immediately his Excellentissimo 
 appeared on the balcony, and ordered the drums to beat to 
 arras ! Soon there was hot haste in every dwelling. Wo- 
 men ran to the windows and doors ; children pulled at their 
 mothers' skirts, and asked what had happened. The men ran 
 to the public green, took their stations in the ranks, and look- 
 ed alternately towards the hills and the prisons. The dogs 
 barked and trotted about in apparent wonder; the goats 
 bleated and stamped their feet ; and the horses neighed and 
 ran to the sea-side, and the cattle raised head and tail and ran 
 together ! In fact, such a time of locomotion had not for 
 many a day been seen in Monterey. In order to explain this 
 phenomenon, it will be necessary for me to show its cause. 
 
84 
 
 SCENES FN T H K PACIFIC 
 
 A law of the Rt'public of Mexico requires the citizens of 
 other nations, who would hunt, trap, or trade for furs on any 
 portion of her ilominions, to obtain from the proper authori- 
 ties written Ii(;enses to that effect. Three, four, and six 
 months, are the usual terms of time specified in them, and the 
 rights conveyed by them vary, from the mere privilege of 
 trapping, to all the several franchises of a general trader. 
 With these, stowed away in deer-skin pouches, enveloped in 
 the bladders of the buffalo so saturated with grease that nei- 
 ther the storms nor streams can penetrate them, they load their 
 mules with traps and goods, and go forth into the wilderness. 
 The territories over which they more commonly travel are 
 those which lie on the rivers Jila, the Colorado of the West, 
 the San Joaquin, and Sacramento — countries inhabited by In- 
 dians only — among which the citizens of the Indio-Spanio- 
 Bravo-Furioso-JMilitaric-Dcspotico-Republica-Mexicana, dare 
 1||S|§» not enter. Into these wastes the daring Americans fight their 
 way through the savage tribes ; trap the beaver among flying 
 poisoned arrows ; guard each other while they take in turn 
 their hurried sleep ; eat the Hesh of wild animals and beaten 
 grass seed ; or, as is often the case, lose themselves and die of 
 hunger, thirst, or the prostrating effects of the poisonous wa- 
 ters in the sandy solitudes over which they attempt to travel. 
 
 If, however, they survive the hardships of these journeyings, 
 collect large quantities of furs, and return to the borders of 
 civilisation, satisfied that their toil, however hazardous it i ty 
 have been, haj resulted in an adequate reward, it is still un- 
 certain whether they have labored for their own or another's 
 benefit. The authorities who have sold them their licenses, em- 
 ploy various means to rob them of what they have so dearly 
 acquired. The more common of these is, to raise questions in 
 regard to the vaUdity of the licenses. To this end the hunter 
 and his furs are seized and carried before the Alcalde, on the 
 assumption that they have been obtained without lawful per- 
 mission. The court is opened, and the possession and seizure 
 is proven — the hunter offers in evidence of his right of pro* 
 
1 
 
 T U A V K I. s t N T II K (A I ! K n N f A S 
 
 86 
 
 port), his carefully preserved license. It is examined by the 
 court, and if found to have been i^raiited by the political party 
 then in power, it is declared sufficient, and the hunter find his 
 furs are released. But if it unfortunately proceeded from the 
 anta^onist political sect, the court, with a wisdom by no 
 means peculiar to them.selves, pronounce that act ot their pre- 
 decessors of no effect, and declare the furs forteited to the 
 government. Nor is the hunter rendered secure from depre- 
 dation by the adjudged legality of his accjuisition. Nume- 
 rous instances have occurred in which the officials of New 
 Mexico, after they have rendered judgment in his favor, have 
 hired the partially civilized Indians to follow the poor himter, 
 on his way over the plains towards his home, and rob him of 
 every skin he has taken, even his wardrobe, food, animals, 
 rifle, and left him to perish or return to the cold hospitality of 
 those whose creatures have ruined him. 
 
 Instances of another manner of committing these robberies 
 have occurred. An American hunter obtained his license in 
 Chihuahua, went to Upper California, and after a very success- 
 ful hunt among the Tulares' lakes in the valley of the San 
 Joaquin, went down to Monterey for rest and supplies. On 
 his arrival he was summoned before the Alcalde to show by 
 what right he had entered the country and trapped the beaver. 
 He had lost some of his animals while fording a mountain 
 torrent, and with them his passport and license. He, there- 
 fore, could ^ ow no authority for his presence, nor cause why 
 the furs in hi possessiof. should not he declared contraband. 
 He was not pe'-mitted to send to Chihuahua for evidence. 
 The loss of some three tliousand dollars' worth of furs, and 
 seven year^" imprisonment at Monterey, was the result. 
 
 Another American by the name * Young, who appears in 
 the narrative of my travels across the continent, was, by 
 means like these, robbwi of some thmisantfs of beaver-skins, 
 the avails of many years' toil. But this iniquitous plundering 
 has not been confined to the whites. The civilized Indians 
 on our western frontier, who make frequent excursions ovei- 
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 SCENES IN THE p A C I 1' I C . 
 
 the Rocky Mountains in search of furs, have from time to 
 time been subjected to losses and the most degrading; pursonal 
 treatment from the Californians and New Mexican authorities. 
 Whites and Indians having been injured in this manner, with- 
 out personal resistance, until all hope of retribution from the 
 federal government, and every prospect of better morals on 
 the part of the robbers, had forsaken them, have taken 
 the club into their own hands ; and the ruined Indian and 
 white man put on the red paint of battle, band together, 
 make incursions am>'>ng the covyards of Santa Fc, and even 
 cross the mountains and lay tribute upon the mules and horses 
 of the Californians. Such were the Indians whose presence 
 created the alarm at Monterey. They numbered about fifty. 
 And the vagabond government well knew that those fifty 
 rifles, if brought upon the town at that time, would send every 
 poltroon of them to their last rest. No wonder, then, there 
 was quaking at Monterey. Old scores, and later ones, would 
 have been balanced, if those men had dreamed that Americans 
 and Britons were in the prisons of Monterey. 
 
 It was suggested by several persons that the prisoners 
 would be shot during the week without trial. Acting upon 
 this hint the American intimated to some of the more prudent 
 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 inspired 
 them with such new 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 Colum- 
 bia," 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 Puento Pinos. I walked around 
 the prisons till eleven o'clock, to the peril of life, indeed^ but 
 in the enjoyment of feelings dearer than life itself. 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIAS 
 
 87 
 
 " Hail Columbia !" I wish my readers could conceive 
 something of the stirring might of those words sung by 
 parched lips within the prisons of California ! Dying Amer- 
 icans sang them ! The unconquerable sons of the Republic 
 sang them, though strength was sinking and the blood flowed 
 feebly through her children's veins ! 
 
 " Rule Britannia !" The battle anthem of the fatherland ! 
 Sturdy Britons were there to sing. Their voices seemed weak 
 when they began it ; but as their feelings seized more perfectly 
 the inspiration of the poetry and music, the floating walls of the 
 Island Empire seemed to heave in view. " Rule Britannia !" 
 It came ringing through the grates during the latter part of 
 the evening with a broken, wild shout, as if the breath 
 of those who uttered it came fresh from Trafalgar ! 
 
 Pinto, the captain of the guard, inquired the purport of 
 their songs, and was told by a Scotchman at the grates that 
 they were "the war-cries of Britain and America, and that 
 the Californians, Mexicans, and the rest of the Spanish crea- 
 tion, had better vote themselves asses and devils before those 
 nations forced the idea into them from the muzzles of their 
 rifles !" 
 
 This Pinto was a small pattern even of a coward, but what 
 there was of him one could not doubt was the genuine article. 
 He had a small narrow head, very black stiff hair, a long thin 
 nose with a sharp pendant point ; small snakish eyes, very near 
 neighbors, and always peering out at the corners of the sockets ; 
 a very slender sharp chin, with a villanous luft of bristles on 
 the under lip ; a dark swarthy complexion burnished with the 
 grin of an idiotic hyena. Who would not expect such an 
 animal to be frightened at the carnage songs of the parent 
 of nations and her firstborn child ! He did fear, the miniature 
 scoundrel ! He had been one of the principal instigators of 
 this barbarity, and if he believed in the recuperative energies 
 of prostrated justice he had reason to tremble. 
 
 In his trepidation he sought the quarters of Jose Castro. 
 This man was his monster-superior. With the general out- 
 
T 
 
 88 
 
 SCKNES IN THE PACIFIC, 
 
 lines of the human frame, he united every lineament of a 
 thoroughbred ourang-outang : as, very long arms, very large 
 brawny hands, a very heavy body, and a very contemptible 
 face, wrinkled and drawn into a broad concentrated scowl of 
 unsatisfied selfishness. 
 
 This dignitary made the rounds of the guard and retired to 
 his couch, satisfied that he really was what he modestly called 
 liimself — the Napoleon of Western America ! Pinto took up 
 his position with great resolution in the shade of an adobie 
 wall, at a safe distance from the prisons; and when I left the 
 ground he was employuig his knees in knocking each other 
 into a stiff stand against unmanly fear. Nothing else worthy 
 of note occurred during the night. 
 
 On the morning of the 22d the governor sent again for the 
 American. He would not see the messenger. About nine 
 o'clock, however, he walked down before the prisons and 
 spoke a word of cheer to their inmates. They were wretched, 
 but hope was awakened in them by his presence and fear- 
 lessness. 
 
 There was evident consternation among the dons. That 
 American signalling the Don Quixote every morning as she 
 swept into the harbor, and the idea of a fleet outside, its com- 
 mander ashore, communicating with it by a fast-sailing brig, 
 and that commander defying the governor, breaking through 
 the guards, conversing with the prisoners, and those martial 
 songs by night, were ominous circumstances in the eyes of 
 those contemptible tyrants I 
 
 About noon it was reported that the prisoners would have 
 a trial ! A little ad\ ance this ! The government had begun 
 to yield to its fears, what it would not to its sense of justice. 
 
 The next morning, the 23d, the entire standing army, con- 
 sisting of sixteen filthy half-breeds, and a corps of about sixty 
 volunteers, mustered at the beat of the drum before the 
 prisons. Twenty-one of the prisoners were brought out be- 
 tween the lines, marched to the governor's house, and seated 
 on the grass in front of it. They were emaciated and pallid, 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
TRAVELS IN THR C A 1. I F O R N I A 8 . P9 
 
 but resolute. The American puslied his wny throu-h the 
 crowd of officers and citizens, seated himself wilhin twehe ivet 
 of the prisoners, and n)anilksU .1 to (hem by the sincerest com- 
 passion and most resohite acN, that if they died he died with 
 them. He had agreed with them to apj)ear before the piwson 
 at the middle hour of night, on tlie twenty -fourth, and .ro 
 with them to fr(;edom or a bras e death, if they were not fairly 
 tried and on evidence condemned, or leleased before the fol- 
 lowing midnight. This promise they felt would be kept. 
 
 The trial, as it was called, soon commenced. Each man 
 was summoned singly from hitj seat to a lower room in the 
 governor's house, and callal ui^on to produce his passport. 
 Most of them replied, that they were arrested in their fields or 
 workshops, and were not permitted to go to their reside ices 
 for papers or anything else. 
 
 To this the Alcalde who sat in judgment, said, " I have no 
 evidence before me of your lawiul right to remain iu Cali- 
 fornia." 
 
 The next question was, " What do you know of a revolu- 
 tionary movement under Graham 1" 
 
 The reply was, " 1 know nothing of any such movement or 
 intention." 
 
 " What meant that advertisement for a horse-race, put 
 forth by Graham ?" 
 
 " It meant wh;:t such advertisements ha\e meant for the 
 last five years : a wish on tiie part of Graham to run his 
 American horse in California." 
 
 " Nothing more ? Nothing more ?" 
 
 This was the form of trial in each case. The only favor 
 they craved, was, that they might have an interpreter who 
 understood both languages. This was denied them. A mise- 
 rable tool of the government, who spoke the English so 
 badly that he could never make himself understood, succeeded, 
 by this manner of translating their answers, in making them 
 confess themselves guilty of high treafion, and othor aisde- 
 meanors worthy of the bullet. 
 
90 
 
 SCENES IN THE P A < 1 F I T . 
 
 After all had passed this ord(';il, a Botnjiy Bay convict, hy 
 the name of Garner, was called in evidence on behalf of the 
 government. His testimony removed all lingering doubts. 
 He established the unqualified guilt of all. Graham, in par- 
 ticular, who had been preferred over him as commander of 
 the foreign riflemen in Alvarado's revolution, and whom he 
 had previously attempted to kill, he declared to have formed a 
 scheme of ambition, which, had it not been discovered, would 
 have dug the grave of every Spaniard in California ! ! This 
 man's testimony was written out and signed by his murderous 
 hand. It may be in due time a blister on his perjured soul. 
 
 The reported confessions of each prisoner, also, were reduced 
 to writing in tlie Spanish language. They contained, as I 
 afterward learned in JNIexico, things never said, accounts of 
 acts never performed, and bequests of property to their perse- 
 cutors, their jailers, and to those, who, on several occasions, 
 thrust sabres at their hearts when nearly helpless in the dim- 
 geons of Monterey, which I need not say were never made. 
 Few of them could read Spanish, and none were permitted to 
 peruse these documents. They were compelled to sign them, 
 as poor Morris was, by threats of instant death if they refused. 
 Thus ended the trial of one hundred and sixty-odd Americans 
 and Britons, before a court of Californian Arabs ! What its 
 judgment would be, was the painful question in every mind ! 
 A few of them had been sent to their places of residence 
 without arms, or any intimation whether it would be the sub- 
 lime pleasure of the villains that they should live or die : the 
 greater part were remanded to the prisons. And again, while 
 they sat, stood, and laid on the mud floors of their cells, and 
 clanked their fetters and handcuffs, they sang " Hail Colum- 
 bia," and " Rule Britannia," as another night of wo passed 
 away ! That spectre fleet and its commander were the only 
 hope between them and death. On this they leaned ! 
 
 On the morning of the twenty-third the drums beat at 
 early dawn, and the whole military force paraded before the 
 dungeons. An imposing display was that. The clanking of 
 
 I 
 
 i 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIAS 
 
 91 
 
 I 
 
 rusty swords and scabbards, the jinglinjr of loose gun locks, 
 and the right-about- face-forward-inarch operations of these 
 bandy-legged, pale-livered, disconsolate sons of Mars, praying 
 to the saints that they might not be annihilated by such terri- 
 ble events, told a story of valor, which future ages ought to 
 hear with appalled ears ! The times which try men's souls 
 have always been remarkable in some way ; and this day was 
 chiefly conspicuous for beef and beans. The quantity of 
 these articles which they devoured at breakfast, was incredi- 
 ble ; and the grease and dirt which they consumed, the glare 
 and quick twinkling of the eyes for more, and the panting 
 obesity of their persons when the meal was ended, indicated 
 great perseverance, if not indomitable bravery. 
 
 As in other countries talent is measured by impudence, 
 moral worth by long faces and stereotyped solemnity of coun- 
 tenance, and rank by the elevation of the nose and the suc- 
 cessful villany of ancestors, so in California, with the same 
 unquestionable good sense, do the cavalieros measure their 
 manliness of chai acter, their bravery in arms, their civil and 
 social elevation, by the capacity of their stomachs and their 
 eloquence in boasting. Never were men happier or more 
 thoroughly self-content than the troops of Monterey at their 
 beef and beans. The events of The Ri:voliition were dis- 
 cussed with full mouths and laboring throats. Los Espanioles 
 del Alta California, to wit, every Indian with a drop of Span- 
 ish blood under his filthy skin, were muy bravos, extremely 
 brave, and their conduct in the late troubles was second to 
 nothing recorded since the siege of Mexico under Cortes ! 
 
 It is said by some one who pretends to know, that the world 
 generally estimates us by the value we set upon ourselves. 
 Whether this opinion be founded in truth or not I am unable 
 to determine. But certain it is the Genius of Glory in these 
 days seems to be in her dotage. Homer, Socrates, Luther 
 and Washington, wear her laurels with so much grace, that 
 the old jade appears to think it a mere amusement to make 
 immortal men. Accordingly she throws the poet's wreath 
 
92 
 
 S c; E N K S IN THE 1> A ( I F I C 
 
 upon moonstruck rhyrastcis, the philosopher's crown upon 
 heads with long hair anil dirty beards, that of the Reformer 
 upon apes ^nd brass-mounted women, and even tries to make 
 men out of male Calitbrnians. Sad mistakes are all these ; 
 and particularly the last. 
 
 About ten o'clock the troops were reviewed by Don Jose 
 Castro. A little after eleven, all the prisoners except forty- 
 six were pardoned. These the government would not libe- 
 rate. They had acted a conspicuous part in Alvarado's revo- 
 lution, and were feared as likely to demand for themselves 
 and their companions the fulfilment of the promises which 
 he had made them. The American had suggested that they 
 should be sent to the Consuls of their respective governments 
 at Tcpic. A ship which had been chartered for that purpose 
 (the Roger Williams, of Boston), was floating in the harbor. 
 The doors of the prisons were opened ; the emaciated tenants 
 came out, chained two and two, hand and foot, some of them 
 with no clothing except a pair of ragged pantaloons. The 
 Spaniards had robbed them not only of their cattle, horses, 
 mules and freedom, but • also of their wardrobe. They were 
 marched towards the shore clanking their chains. Poor Gra- 
 ham and Morris were so heavily loaded with irons that it re- 
 quired four stout Indians to carry them. 
 
 The American mingled among them, and dissuaded them, 
 from a contemplated insurrection on ship-board. Three Cali- 
 fornian women followed the prisoners. They were wives, 
 and had children. They clung to their husbands and wept 
 aloud. Castro ordered them to be driven away with blows. 
 They were beaten with swords, but would not go. They led 
 their children, and helped bear the chains that were galling 
 the bleeding limbs of those whom they loved. 
 
 They said, " the soldiers have taken all our horses, cattle 
 and property, and now they take you away from us for ever ! 
 May God take our lives ! Oh, Mary, mother of God, pray 
 for us!" 
 
 As they were going down to the boat, poor old Graham 
 
 • 
 
 
T a A V K I, .« IN T n K (• A I, r F O U N I A S , 
 
 93 
 
 seemed cnlirely brokcn-heartiil. The American said to lum, 
 " lie hrave, (jiaham, he hiave ! Let no Tennessi-an ever 
 thl.ik of yiehllng in this way. liaise your head and keep it 
 ereet. Once hitak'd at San IMas, you are safe. I will see you 
 when you land." 
 
 " Ah," said Graham, " I never can be a man again after 
 having these feet bound with irons by a Californian ; never 
 again ! I could bear to be a prisoner to a brave and decent 
 people, but to be caught and cooped up, chained and exported 
 like a tub of lard, by these here scabs of mankind, is mighty 
 
 bad ! No, I never shall i)e a man again, Mr. . Here, 
 
 take my hand. We should have been riddled with bullets if 
 you had not been here, could the rascals have drawn a bead 
 close enough to hit us ! I never shall be a man again ! 
 Irons on the legs of a man who fought for them, who made the 
 cowards what they are ! With my fifty rifles about me, 1 could 
 drive the devils from the whole coast or lay them away to rot. 
 But i won't think on't. 1 never can be a man again !" 
 
 They put him and some others into a boat and pushed off 
 
 for the ship. " Farewell, Mr. , farewell : but stop, hold 
 
 on ! — have you got money enough to get home with ? I 
 will let you have some in San Bias. But I never shall be 
 Graham again !" 
 
 The boats continued to ply between the ship and the shore 
 until all were carried on board. The multitude then retired to 
 the town. Deep feelings struggled in every breast at the termi- 
 nation of this affair. Alvarado was mad that he had not shot 
 Graham, to whom he owed $2,235 and other obligations ; 
 those cavalieros who had been rejected by ladies to make way 
 for foreign suitors, were enraged beyond measure that most 
 of them had been left in the country. The ladies generally 
 rejoiced that no blood had been shed ; the wives of those who 
 had been sent on board the prison-ship, sat on shore beneath 
 the tree where the cross was erected by Padre Junipero, and 
 wept upon the necks of their children, until the ship was out 
 of sight. The American suggested that the town might be 
 
 ^ 
 
94 
 
 S C K N K 
 
 IN T H K r A < 1 !' I {■ 
 
 taken, and the perpetrators of such outrages bo disposed of at 
 rope's end ; but the proposition was diseountc^nancei! ])y the 
 residents. The churcli was opened, and a Te Deum sung for 
 the dehverance of the country! After this, each class true to 
 their leacHng emotions, gathered in knots about town, and 
 talked of these strange things till supper separated them for 
 the night. During the evening some of the officers of gov- 
 ernment called at ]\Ir. Larkin's, and informed the American 
 that the governor had sent the prisoners to the American and 
 British Consuls at Tepic, via San Bias, and that the vessel 
 would put into Santa Barbara for provisions and other 
 prisoners. 
 
 The twenty-fourth morning of April was clear ; the sun 
 came up the eastern hills on a landscape of sweet things. No 
 one born and dwelling in the rugged, changing seasons of the 
 North can know, without experiencing, the delights of a cli- 
 mate like that of California. From spring to spring again 
 all is friendly ; from morning till morning comes again all is 
 pleasant to breathe and to see ; from hour to hour the body 
 feels in the air a balmy blessing ; from moment to moment the 
 blood leaps vigorously through the frame. 
 
 Near eleven o'clock the troops were in motion, and Mr. 
 Larkin and myself went down to the public green, to see what 
 might transpire. 
 
 We found the green covered with people kneeling and 
 crossing themselves, and the priest in full robes performing 
 high-mass near the door of the governor's dwelling. His 
 Excellentissimo was kneeling with his officers before the altar 
 as devoutly as if he had been obedient to the commandments 
 from his youth till that time. It was shocking to hear him 
 respond to the prayers for repentance, while any observer 
 might see the malignity with which he had sought the li\ es 
 of his friends, struggling among the muscles of his face and 
 burning in his eyes ! 
 
 The services being ended, the governor retired into his 
 house. Thanks had been given to God for saving the country 
 
1 II A V 1. I. S I N I It K (; A I, I I' H N I A S . 
 
 95 
 
 from (lanfi^or which never existcH, aiul for protecting the vil- 
 lains that pretended its existence as an excuse for shedding 
 hlood. 
 
 No other event occurred that day worthy k)( '>ci'ig noticed, 
 except that the wives of those poor fellows who were floating 
 doAvn the coast in the prison-ship w cnt weeping through the 
 streets, beseeching all they met to go down to Santa Barbara 
 and bring back their husbands. 
 
 t spent my time among the foreigners, who had been let out 
 of prison, in gathering information relative to the country, 
 which will lie given in another part of the vohime. 
 
 The evening was passed at Mr. Larkin's. We were happy, 
 not because we felt no danger around us, for there was much 
 of it. But we were glad that no more groans came up from 
 the damp dungeons ! That none of our countrymen were 
 calling for air, and water, and food, from those infernal dens ! 
 Alas, for those who were on their way to Mexico ! We 
 thought of them sadly ; they might be dying ; but we called 
 hope to our aid, and believed that better hours would soon 
 dawn on their misery. More than one hundred of our coun- 
 trymen were released from impending death ! Bolts grated 
 no more ! chains clanked no more on the silent night ! And 
 we felt in our own persons something of that returning security 
 to life which sends through the soul of the most reckless an 
 inexpressible sense of pleasure. 
 
 The next morning the green before the governor's house 
 was graced with a portly ei!igy of Senor Judas Iscariot ! One 
 ankle out of joint, and other parts disarranged, for the especial 
 gratification of his inferiors in moral qualities. The senor was 
 assumed to be dead. His optics glared rather- sorrow^fully 
 upon the multitude around him, as if loth to look the last time 
 on congenial hearts ! He held in his hand a scroll, con- 
 taining a last will and testament, in which his several virtues 
 and possessions were bequeathed to various persons residing 
 in the country. 
 In the afternoon the American and some other gentlemen 
 
96 
 
 •^ ( K N r; fl r n t h i: r a c i i" i c , 
 
 were invited by an EniijU.sh resident to a fcsta on the shores 
 of the bay. And being in a mood to seize upon anything to 
 divert thought from the unpk'usant reminiscences oi" the past 
 week, we ghidly accepted tl)e invitation, without knowing 
 indeed what a CaHf'ornianyi,',v^« might be. Dr. Bale was one 
 of the guests, and kindly conducted us to the place selected for 
 the ceremonies. It was among the trees, a short distance 
 southwest of the anchorage; a wild, rude spot. The old 
 trees, which had thrown their branches over the savage before 
 a white man had touched the shores, were rotting on the 
 ground, and formed the fuel of our fire ! The ancient rocks 
 stood around, covered with the moss of ages ! The winds 
 sang in the trees ! The ringing cadt^nces of the towering 
 pine, the deep bass of the strong spreading oak, the mellow 
 alto of the flowering shrubs, the low, soft voice of the 
 grasses, nature's great ^'Eolian lyre, breathed sweet music ! 
 The old wilderness was there, unshorn, and holy, responding 
 to the songs of birds in the morn of the opening year. 
 
 When we arrived, half a dozen brunettes were spreading 
 cloths upon the grass, and displaying upon them boiled ham, 
 dried beef, tongue, bread, pics, cigars, and various kinds of 
 wines, from the vineyards of the country j so that a /esta 
 proved to be an invitation for us to eat and drink among a 
 group of joyous children and smiling lasses. Yes, smiling, 
 hearty Californian hisses. Who is not glad to see me repeat 
 words that speak of the smiles of women ? I do not mean 
 those heart-rending efforts at grinning, which one so often 
 meets in mechanical society ; but those pulsations of genuine 
 joy and truth, which come up impulsively from woman's real 
 nature, shedding on the dwelling-places of the race the sweetest 
 elements of the social state. It is that sunshine of our moral 
 being which beams on our cradles, on the paths of our child- 
 hood, on the stormy skies of misfortune in the years of man- 
 hood, which warms the chilled heart of age into renewed life, 
 and shines on till sight and sense are lost in the dark gateway 
 to the after state ! 
 
 r i 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIA S 
 
 97 
 
 r 
 
 We ate and drank froely. Who could do otherwise ? The 
 mellow laugh of childhood, the holy kindness of maternal 
 care, the pride of the paternal heart, the love of woman, the 
 sky and fragrant breezes of a Californian lawn, the open sea, 
 the giant woodlands, the piping insects, the carolling of a thou- 
 sand birds, the voices of a boundless hospitality, invited us to 
 do so. The finest dish of all the goodly array of fat things, 
 the brunette lips excepted, was the roasted mussels. The In- 
 dians in attendance gathered a number of bushels, piled them 
 upon a large log fire, and in a few minutes presented them to 
 us, thoroughly cooked and delicious to the taste. Indeed I 
 hope for no better fish. They are tender as an oyster, with 
 as fine flavor ; and the abundance of them is really remarka- 
 ble ! The coast is lined with them. 
 
 Our festa ended near sunset. It had been as agreeable as 
 our hosts' best attentions could render it. The ladies also had 
 vied with each other to make the occasion happy. But their 
 gladness was forced. A deep gloom like that which the thun- 
 der-cloud throws over the flowering meadow-land, saddened 
 their smiles, arrested the laugh half-uttered, bent the figure, and 
 shaded the warm glow of joy in the eye, with the cold 
 watchfulness of alarm! Such was the influence of that 
 prison ship, the last speck of which had been watched, as it 
 sunk, hull, spars, and streamer, over the bending sea, freight- 
 ed with chains and the misery of fellow-countrymen, that the 
 heart could not be persuaded into happiness ! 
 
 * 
 
 9 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 A Ride— Vale of San Carmelo— Indians employed— The Surf— Bay of 
 San Carmelo— Mission Edifices— Belfrey Bells— Deserted and Sad— 
 An Indian Lawyer and his Wife—A Speech — Return to Monterey — 
 Embarkation— Weighing Anchor— An American Tar— Tom's New 
 Axe— General Training Day— Becomes a Salt— Tom's opinion of the 
 Land and its Inhabitants — A fine breeze — PuntoConccpeion— Islands — 
 A calm— A night on deck— Landing at Santa Barbara— The Prison 
 Ship— El Mission de Santa Barbara— Its Fountains, Tanks, Church, 
 Pictures and Cemetery— The Prisoners — Taking leave of them. 
 
 In the afternoon of the twenty-fifth, three or four Ameri- 
 cans and an English physician rode out on horseback to the 
 mission of San Carmelo, one league and a half southwesterly 
 from Monterey. The road leading to it lay over an undulating 
 country, covered with the growing wild grasses. Its general 
 aspect much resembled that of the broken lands of Illinois. 
 The hills, however, were higher, the gravel of the roads 
 coarser. The trees were a species of soft, low oak, pine and 
 birch. A kind of clover and soue other species of grasses 
 crowned every knoll and height. And the odor of that vege- 
 tation ! Incense from the boundless altar of nature ! The 
 teeming fields of spring on the rich hill sides, sending up into 
 the broad sky the sweet perfume of opening leaf and flower. 
 
 The glancing flight of the butterfly, the nimble leaps of 
 the hare, the hurried snort of the startled deer, the half-clad 
 Indian lounging in the genial sun-light, mottled the view 
 along the way. 
 
 The valley of the mission is a charming one. It comes 
 down from the north-eastern highlands, accompanied by a 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIAS. 
 
 99 
 
 clear bright stream, to the sea. It is ten miles in length, two 
 miles wide near the ocean, and narrower as it rises among 
 the lofty ridges. Rio Carmelo winds very much ; and in its 
 bends are many stately groves, between ,which lie the for- 
 saken fields of the mission, overgrown with wild grass and 
 brush. Not entirely forsaken, for here and there is found an 
 Indian hut, with its tiled roof, mud walls and floor, tenanted, 
 but falling to decay. The inmates are the spiritual children 
 of the old Padres, who taught them rude agriculture, archi- 
 tecture, and the Being and worship of God. Since the de- 
 parture of those good men, the fields have been neglected, 
 and the Indians have sunk into vice and degradation. A sad 
 thing is it to see the furrow of civilisation turned back ; the 
 thistle usurping the place of the wheat ; rank weeds choking 
 the vineyard, and the rose trodden in the dust ! But so it is 
 in the valley of San Carmelo. The Indians in different sec- 
 tions were planting small plats of beans and maize. A mule 
 and an ox yoked together were used for draught. 
 
 We rode to the water-side to look at the surf. It was a 
 glorious sight that heaving up of the Great Deep on the 
 land ! The shore was bold and lined with huge buried reefs. 
 On these the swells, walls of bending water ten feet in 
 height, dashed, broke, roared and died— a sheet of quarrelling 
 foam — over the beach for miles around the bay. And as each 
 wave retired, that beach of shells reduced to dust by the 
 battering sea, sent up its countless hues, from pearly white to 
 the richest violet, dancing and trembling over the green lawn 
 on which we stood. This bay of San Carmelo is a large 
 open bight, so filled with sunken rocks and sand bars, and so 
 exposed to the winds from the south-west, as to be useless for 
 a harbor. But it is a wild and grand thing to look out upon 
 in storm or calm. On the south, rude rocks, old trees and 
 desert hillocks bound it. On the north the lofty pines crowd 
 down to its billows. On the north-west opens the valley of 
 the missions. Over all its blue waters rave the surges, if the 
 winds be up ; or if still, in come the great swells, alive with 
 
 
100 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 porpoise and seal, and bellow and die on the shore of San 
 Carmelo. 
 
 The mission buildings are situated on the north side of the 
 valley near the sea. They stand on elevated ground, which 
 overlooks the bay and seven or eight miles of the vale. 
 They were inhabited by a family of half-breeds, who kept 
 the keys of the church. The edifices are built around a 
 square area of half an acre. On the west, south, and east 
 sides of it, are the Indian houses with their ruined walls, scal- 
 loped tile roofs, clay floors and open unglazed windows. On 
 the north side are the church, the cells and dining hall of the 
 Padres. The latter is about forty feet by twenty, lighted by 
 open spaces in the outer wall, grated with handsomely turned 
 wooden bars, and guarded by plank shutters, swinging inside. 
 At the west end of this room is a small opening through 
 which the food was passed from the kitchen. On the north 
 side and east end are four doors opening into the cells of 
 the friars. Everything appeared forsaken and undesirable. 
 And yet I could not forbear a degree of veneration for those 
 ancient closets of devotion ; those resting-places of the way- 
 farer from the desert ; those temples of hospitality and prayer, 
 erected by that band of excellent and daring men, who 
 founded the Californian missions, and engraved on the heart of 
 that remote wilderness, the features of civilisation and the 
 name of God. 
 
 There was an outside stairway to the tower of the church. 
 We ascended it and beheld the broken hills, the vales and the 
 great heaving sea, with its monsters diving and blowing; 
 and heard it sounding loudly far and near. We saw the 
 ruined mission of San Carmelo, and the forsaken Indians 
 strolling over its grounds ! On the timbers over head, hung 
 six bells of different sizes — three of them cracked and tone- 
 less. Formerly one of these rang to meals, to work, and 
 rest ; and the others to the various services of the Catholic 
 faith. Dr. Bale informed us, such was the regularity of these 
 establishments that the laboring animals stopped in the road or 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CAI, IFORNIAS. 
 
 101 
 
 
 furrow, whenever the bells called the Indian to his duties. 
 But prayers are no longer heard in San Carmelo ; the tower 
 no longer commands obedience to God ; the buildings are 
 crumbling to dust ; the rank grass is crowding its courts ; the 
 low moss is creeping over its gaping walls ; and the ox and 
 mule are running wild on its hills. 
 
 The walls of the church are of stone masonry ; the roof 
 of brick tiles. The whole structure is somewhat lofty, 
 and looks down upon the surrounding scenery, like an old 
 baronial castle, from which the chase, the tournament, and 
 the reign of beauty have departed. An oaken arm-chair, 
 brown and marred with age, stood on the piazza, proclaiming 
 to our lady of Guadaloupe and a group of saints rudely 
 sketched upon the walls, that Carmelo was deserted by living 
 men. 
 
 My respect for the profession of " glorious uncertainties,'* 
 will not permit me to leave this valley without introducing to 
 the kind regards of the reader a brother lawyer. He lived 
 on the banks of the Carmelo in a little mud hut, surrounded 
 by some beautiful fields under good cultivation. His stock 
 consisted of a number of tame cows, a few goats, uncounted 
 flocks of domestic fowls, and a dozen dogs. When about a 
 quarter of a mile distant, the dogs opened their artillery in a 
 running fire upon us ; the cocks flew upon the fences 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 and 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 
 
102 
 
 SCENES 
 
 \ 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 
 a"waited 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 more 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 dollEurs 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 pow 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 wilUng feet, as we mounted the heights. 
 Gully and rock were leaped with a joyful neigh ! We reached 
 
 h 
 
 > I ( 
 
f 
 
 , 
 
 I I t 
 
 TRAVELS IN THE C A L I F H N I A S 
 
 103 
 
 the highland when the sun was a hand's breadth above the 
 ocean. His burning farewell lay on the verdant hill-tops. 
 Onw^ard ! speed onward ! The Bay is before us ; its crested 
 billows are gilded, like fretted gold, with rays from the upper 
 rim of the sinking sun ! 
 
 On the twenty-eighth of April the Don Quixote had com- 
 pleted her business with P. I. Farnhara & Co. 'a 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., w^e 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 in 
 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 j" 
 " heave the anchor, cheerily, boys," is ordered and done. 
 
T 
 
 104 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 Tills is always n cheering time on ship-board. " Heave 
 ahoy ;" and the old salt's eye brightens, his step quickens, and 
 his voice rings gladly, as link after link of the ponderous cable 
 tumbles aboard, 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 stripes 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 sailor, 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 longy was sometimes pre- 
 fixed, as he explained it, " in order to add a fathom to its 
 sound." 
 
 When s^ixteen years of age, he had heard that Maine was 
 noted far abroad for its long mortals and heavy fists ; 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. 
 
 'i 
 
 t 
 
 . 
 
 ) I t 
 
k 
 
 T R A V E I. S IN THE C A I. I F R N I A S . 
 
 105 
 
 , 
 
 ) I ) 
 
 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 c#me 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 
 
 because 
 
 y 
 
 bowsprit, and d... 
 
 the walls of a building to give him lee-way. And then the 
 
 I your eyes 
 
f 
 
 li 
 
 lOG 
 
 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 paigt 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 their 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 at 
 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 clean 
 water, two or three miles perhaps, and there sleeps high 
 above the bottom, high above dirt and worms, the lubbers 
 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 
 
 n 
 
 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 
 uf 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 surface, 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 circumference, 
 piled with lofty barren hills, interspersed with a few forests 
 and fertile districts. Next came Santa Cruz; an oblong 
 island forty miles in circumference, with 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. 
 
 . I 
 
 twittering softly one to another, coursing 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- 
 doraesticated cattle of a thousand hills j 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 neighborhoo<l. 
 
 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 affords 
 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 
 
 ^II 
 
 i 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIFOBNIAS. 
 
 109 
 
 •> 
 
 
 >■» 
 
 in the centre of the town, which bears very striking testimo- 
 ny to his being a civilized man. 
 
 There is nn 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. Nothmg of the kind can be in 
 
 better taste, more substantial, or useful. 
 
 Above the church and its cloisters, they brought the water 
 
 10 
 
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 
 tlie grounds below, and for the propulsion of different kinds 
 of machinery. Below the mission was the tan-yard, to which 
 the water was carried vp 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 
 tl^ 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 
 
ii 
 
 TRAVELS IN THE 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 victnis, 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 fett 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 massive 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 
 cf those Indians who die in the faith of the Catholic Church. 
 It is curiously arranged. Walls of solid masonry, six feet 
 
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 V. I 
 
 112 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC 
 
 apart, arc sunk six feet in depth, and to a level with the sur- 
 face. Between these the dead are buried in such manner that 
 their feet touch one wall and their heads the other. These 
 grounds have been long since filled. 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, 
 arm-bones &c., lay in one corner. Beside them stood two 
 hand-hearses with a small cross attached to each. About the 
 walls hung the mould of death ! 
 
 On the first of May the American made application for 
 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, bad been chained to 
 long bars of iron passing transvere 3ly across the hold of the 
 ship. T^y 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 bo of little use. 
 They were furnished with a mere morsel of food, and that of 
 the worst quality. Of w^ater, 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 
 
 W 
 
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TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIAS. 
 
 113 
 
 SO 
 
 lid. 
 jn- 
 re. 
 
 :al 
 
 -) 
 
 ^Ei 
 
 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-day, and 
 should not be one to-morrow." The good man entered 
 the cell ; found one of the Englishmen speechless ; admin- 
 istered baptism, and removed him to the house of a kind 
 family, where I found him on my arrival ; still speechless and 
 incapable of motion. The Friar extended his kindness to the 
 other prisoners. He ordered Castro to furnish them food 
 and water. But the villain, evading so far as he was able, 
 gave them barely enough of each to tantalize them, until the 
 arrival of the American in the Don Quixote; when that 
 fleet, laying off" the coast, commanded by such a man, charm- 
 ed his benevolence and mercy into activity. From the first 
 of May, therefore, they had food and water, and were per- 
 mitted to take the air and bathe daily. 
 
 On the fourth, the American was permitted to see the prison- 
 ers. They had been scrubbing themselves at the great tank ; 
 and were allowed, at his suggestion, to take their dinner in the 
 open air. They had evidently suffered exceedingly since 
 they left Monterey; for their countenances had lost the 
 little color which the dungeons of that place had left them. 
 Their hands looked skeleton-wise ; their eyes were deeply 
 sunken in their sockets ; they tottered when they walked ! 
 Poor men! For no other fault than their Anglo-Saxon 
 blood, they fared like felons ! They had a long voyage, and 
 slavery in the mines of Mexico before them, and were sad. 
 10* 
 
I 
 
 114 
 
 S C K N E S IN THE PACIFIC, 
 
 They asked the American if he would lead them in an attack 
 upon the guard. But he pointed out the hopelessness of such 
 an attempt in their enfeebled condition, and comforted them 
 Viith. the reiterated assurance that he would meet them at San 
 Bias. 
 
 While this conversation was going on their dinner ar- 
 rived. The first course consisted of batter cakes, called 
 tortillas, with a small quantity of boiled beef hock. A sad 
 pittance, and of the meanest quality. But one of them told 
 the American with much pleasantry, that it was an attempt 
 to surprise him with ihe richness of their fare ! The next 
 course was a soup. I stood by the kettle v/hile they dipped 
 and ate it. As they approached the bottom of the vessel 
 they hauled up two old cloths of the most filthy description, 
 besides other things which it would ill become me to name ! 
 They ate no more ! Starvation itself lost its appetite at such 
 a spectacle ! The American remonstrated with the officer in 
 charge for allowing such baseness. The fellow promised. 
 But why speak of a Spaniard's promise 1 It can be likened 
 to nothing so well as his justice. Both are as unreliable to 
 one in his power, as the thunder-cloud at night is, for light 
 to him who treads on precipices ! 
 
 As this w^as the last interview which we expected to have 
 with the prisoners before they would leave California, it was 
 suggested that they should write to their friends at home. To 
 this they gladly assented. We therefore furnished them with 
 implements for that purpose. But the jealous tyrants in 
 cliarge saw fit to prohibit this last consolation of the doom- 
 ed ! While, however, the villains were engaged in consulta- 
 tion about it, I took their names and places of residence, and 
 promised if they should be executed, or sent to the Mexican 
 mines, to give their friends the sorrowful intelligence of their 
 fate. 
 
 We now took leave of them. As we shook them by the 
 hand their tears flowed freely. One said, write to my sister 
 in Maine i another, write to my mother in Boston ; another, 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIA S 
 
 115 
 
 
 )| I 
 
 :er 
 
 write to my uncle in London, and he will inform my parents; 
 another said write to my wife in *******. Her heart is al- 
 ready broken by my abandonment. Another tried to speak 
 of his home; but grief choked his utterance. Graham was 
 himself again. That hardy and high-toned energy of charac- 
 ter which nature had given him, seemed to rise over mis- 
 fortune, as his corporeal powers decreased. He was greatly 
 enfeebled by his sufferings, and thought he might die on the 
 passage to San Bias. " But," said he, " I reckon these vil- 
 lains will see me die like a man. And if I do die, I wish you 
 to go to Tennessee and Kentucky, and tell the boys of our 
 sufferings. My bones on the stake, their rifles will make 
 spots on their vile carcases. Two hundred Tennessee rifle- 
 men could take the country ; and it's a mighty pity it should 
 be held by a set of vagabonds who don't regard the honor of 
 God or the rights of men. I have been here now seven 
 years ; have always been a peaceable man, except when I took 
 part with the Californians against the tyranny of Govern- 
 ment officers sent up from Mexico. And now I am lassooed 
 like a bear for slaughter or bondage, by these very men 
 whose lives and property myself and friends saved. Well, 
 Graham may hve to prime a rifle again ! If he does, it will 
 be in California ! Farewell to you. I hope we shall meet 
 in Mexico." The old man brushed a tear from his weather- 
 beaten generous face, and we left him. 
 
 The American repeated his visit to the sick Englishman. 
 He had neither ate, drank, nor spoken. His limbs were en- 
 tirely cold and motionless ; fast sinking. The ladies in at- 
 tendance were very compassionate, and bestowed on him 
 every kindness he was capable of receiving. Yet how mhu- 
 man the power which, calling itself a Government, authorises 
 such murders ! The halter which swings at the bidding of a 
 civil tribunal, the axe which flashes along the grooves of the 
 guillotine, have their horrors ; and the head picked up by 
 the mob and shown while life yet speaks from the eyes, and 
 the dying love of Freedom still clothes the countenance, 
 
 
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ipi 
 
 
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 116 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC, 
 
 shocks human forbearance ! But to be killed by inches, to 
 be sent to the arms of death by the long agonies of thirst and 
 famine, for no crime save that of being an American or 
 Briton, is a sacrifice at which malice itself in its soberer mo- 
 ments shudders and turns pale. So was this man dying. He 
 breathed heavily. One of Castro's officers came in, and re- 
 marking that he was undoubtedly a feeble man, kissed his 
 hand gallantly to the ladies and retired. 
 
 The evening was spent with Mrs. J. A. Jones, the Califor- 
 nian spouse of the former American Consul at the Hawaian 
 Islands, and her sisters. A stroll, a Ute-a-tHe, and the sweet 
 guitar ! The air was balmy ; the smiles were deeply sympathiz- 
 ing ; the laugh savored richly of the dearest impulses of the 
 soul J the music was the warm breath of the great living 
 principle of the best affections. All beyond was barbarism 
 and wilderness ! The vast pampas, the unexplored streams, 
 the unpruned forests, the growling hosts of beasts that war 
 with life and gnaw each other's bones ; the roarmg seas ; the 
 wild men, women and children, unlocated, homeless, — the 
 untamed fields of earth and the deserts of the human heart lay 
 outside ; within was our little company. Will the reader tarry 
 here awhile and listen to tales of olden times ? They tell of 
 heroic deeds, of martyrdoms, and glorious conquests. They 
 will bring back the events ofburied years; will showthe deeds of 
 those who acted here and died ; and as the scene moves on, 
 this charming land, with all its countless beauties and its grey 
 and noiseless wastes, will appear. 
 
 ^- 
 
♦ )f 
 
 )i« 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 An Incomparable Wilderness — A Strange Period— Phrenzy — An Indian 
 Fire — Gentlemen by the Grace of God versus Gentlemen by the Grace of 
 Pelf— A Sight of a Great Sea— The first Voyage around the Earth — A Sur- 
 render — Victims— Fleet — Voyage — Another Voyage — Murder — Mas- 
 sacre — Another Voyage — Shipwreck— Beaten to death in the surf— The 
 Dead and their Requiem — Gathered at their Ancient Aliars — A Return — 
 Another Voyage — An Arrival from a Ten Years' tramp among the Sav- 
 ages — An Expedition by Sea and Land — Death of the Discoverer of 
 California. 
 
 Any part of the earth with its forests, its native grasses, 
 herbs, flowers, streams and animals, unmolested by the trans- 
 forming powers of that race which derives a livelihood from 
 agriculture, commerce, and their attendant handicrafts, is a 
 spectacle of great interest. The seasons as they come and 
 go — the spring with its rich blossoms and leaves — the sum- 
 mer with its fulness of vigor — the autumn with its dropping 
 fruits — and the winter, that Sabbath of the year, when na- 
 ture rests from her toil — all bring to the old wilderness un- 
 numbered charms. But who can portray them 1 They are 
 so closely grouped, so richly tinted, so mellow, so sacred and 
 grand, that a long life is required to perceive them. And I 
 often think, if we should study the ancient woods and tower- 
 ing rocks, and the countless beauties among them, through 
 all our days as we do in childhood, we should be drawn nearer 
 to virtue and to God ! 
 
 California is an incomparable wilderness. It differs from 
 that which overhung the Pilgrims of New England. That was 
 a forest broken only by the streams and the beautiful lakes in 
 which the Indian angled for his food. This is a wilderness 
 of groves and lawns, broken by deep and rich ravines, sepa- 
 
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 118 
 
 SCENES 
 
 THE PACIFIC 
 
 ill 
 
 It{ 
 
 m 
 
 ii ! 
 
 rated from each other by broad, and wild wastes. Along the 
 ocean is a world of vegetable beauty ; on the sides of the 
 mountains are the mightiest trees of the earth ; on the heights 
 are the eternal snows, lighted by volcanic fires ! But this is not 
 the place to describe the features of this remarkable country. I 
 have said there is a tale of olden times connected with it and 
 its people, which must first be given. A strange period in 
 the history of man is that in which the Californias became 
 known to Europeans. The latter years of the fifteenth, and 
 the first of the sixteenth century, embrace it. It is a barba- 
 rous era of human energy — not the energy of well-directed 
 reason — ^but of that recuperative force of human nature which 
 for centuries bends under ignorance and inaction, and then, 
 like some central spark, ignites the mass, and flows forth over 
 every opposing obstacle. 
 
 The attenipi to take Palestine from the Infidels has called 
 out the combating and religious faculties in conjunction. Vene- 
 ration for the Church and its rites is the ruling idea ; the cross is 
 transferred from the cathedral to the field of battle, and with so- 
 lemn hymns to God the people of Europe march to their graves 
 on the desecrated plains of Jerusalem. This religious battling 
 has an end ; but its influence on the minds of the people has 
 been immense. They have wrapped their faith around their 
 lances j turned from commerce, the subjugation of the soil, and 
 general industry, to war upon opinions — to an unsettled state 
 of fanatical vagabondism, which turns the world loose upon 
 itself in a religious phrenzy that is forced to seek an outlet 
 among the waves of the western seas. 
 
 Half the solid land of the globe with its boundless forests, 
 its Amazon and Mississippi Rivers, its mountain ranges, its 
 unnumbered forms "of animal life, its savage infidels — all its 
 vastness, beauty and gold, catches the restless fancy of the age, 
 and Columbus is among its sea-weed — sees the light of the 
 Indian's evening fire, and invites the enthusiasm of the Old 
 World to the New. It comes. It is love of wealth, power, 
 and faith ! 
 
 11 » 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIAS. 
 
 119 
 
 m 
 
 Venice, Genoa ami Florence are bringing overland, from 
 the East Indies, so much wealth, that kings are tributary to 
 them. The palaces of the merchant princes outvie those of 
 the cut-throats Royal by the Grace of God. And the lead- 
 ing cord of events now is, to find a shorter route to the silks of 
 Hindostan. For in this lies the possibility that these Grace 
 of God gentlemen may rid themselves of their unpleasant 
 dependence upon the coffers, navies and armies, of these free 
 States. Portugal, Spain, France, England, enter the li'^ts of 
 this great Tournament of El Dorado. The prize sought to 
 be wrested from the hand of Dame Fortune is, a water pas- 
 sage through the American Continent, by which the ships of 
 the discovering nation may reach the East Indies. Columbus, 
 Balboa and Corlez on the part of Spain, seek it along the 
 shores of the Gulf of Mexico ; but the Continent spreads 
 itself an everywhere present barrier to their hopes. This 
 Vasco Nunnez de Balboa in 1513 is in the Gulf of Uraba ; 
 and an Indian chief called Panquiaca cqnducts him over 
 the Cordilleras range of the Isthmus Darien, to Michaelmas 
 Gulf on the Pacific. The Great Pacific Ocean is first seen 
 by this man. His name is written among the heroes of those 
 benighted years. It is dyed in the blood of many thousand 
 slaughtered Indians. He leads Pizarro to the foul- murder of 
 the Incas ! He opens the arteries of Guatimala ! In 1519, 
 Fernando Magellano, in the service of Portugal, discovers 
 the Strait which bears his name, sails across the South Pacific, 
 and touches at the Ladrone and Philippine islands. Among 
 the latter group himself and many of his companions perish. 
 Juan Sebastian del Cano succeeds to the command, traverses 
 the Indian Ocean, doubles the Cape of Good Hope, and 
 moors safely on his native shore. Two passages to the East 
 Indies have now been discovered, and the earth for the first 
 time circumnavigated in 1522. The Pacific has been seen at 
 Darien, and ploughed in the Antarctic latitude. But its north- 
 ern parts are yet unexplored. Hernando Cortez, the student 
 of Salamanca, the magistrate of San Diego de Cuba, the 
 
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S5f 
 
 ii 
 
 d 
 
 i 
 
 '> 
 
 ^» 
 
 'ii 
 
 m 
 
 iitl 
 
 120 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 murderer of Montezuma and Guatimozin, the slender, five 
 feet seven inch conqueror of Mexico, undertakes this. 
 
 On the thirteenth of August, 1521, Mexico surrenders to 
 Cortez, and the King of Mechoacan, whose dominions extend 
 to the shores of the Pacific, also submits to this magistrate 
 of San Diego. Men are sent to explore three different 
 points for a ship-yard on the coast of the Great South Sea ; 
 forty Spaniards, carpenters, sa>^'j ers, and blacksmiths, are sent 
 to the chosen port ; iron, anchors, cables, sails, rigging, pitch, 
 oakum, bitumen, and other naval stores, sufficient to build two 
 brigantines, are borne by Indian slaves and a few mules, from 
 Vera Cruz to Zacatula ; a distance of six hundred miles ! 
 
 But misfortune is beginning to tread on the heel of Cortez' 
 enterprise. These materials, soon after their arrival at Zaca- 
 tula, are consumed by fire. He has used all his private funds 
 in the purchase ; but as his credit is still good, a thousand 
 Indian backs, stout and subservient, are again gored and 
 broken by simila/ burthens. And the mountain path-ways 
 from Vera Cruz are a second time thronged with victims, 
 dying under the bales of materials for building the magis- 
 trate's brigantines. Cortez sees them rise from keel to top- 
 mast, constructed with very sharp bows, and masts leaning 
 forward, carrying triangular sails ; and although ill-shaped, 
 they run near the wind. In 1524, this fleet sails under com- 
 mand of one Christopher de Ohd, on a voyage among the 
 unseen waters of the North ! This expedition, however, re- 
 sults in nothing: but wind and storm, and the return of the 
 ships in a miserable condition. 
 
 Great minds in different ages have reposed belief in strange 
 things. Caesar trusted in the entrails of birds; the British 
 Parliament enacted laws against' witchcraft ; and this Cortez, 
 in 1524, believes in a nation of immense women, called Ama- 
 zons, inhabiting a very large island whose shores are strewn 
 with pearls and gold ! A sufficient variety of taste has hu- 
 man credulity, to give it a keen appetite and capacious 
 throat. Cortez determines to discover the habitation of these 
 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIPORMAS 
 
 121 
 
 IZ, 
 
 m 
 
 large ladles But in 1528 his fame falls into the hands of 
 Spaniards who treat it with the same respect as they already 
 have that of Columbus ; that is, begin to dig its grave. 
 
 To avoid the vexatioas which the Viceroy of Mexico, and 
 a few other envious men, are throwing around him to cripple 
 his efforts, he sails to Spain and presents himself to his King. 
 He is received at court with marked kindness, is made Mar- 
 quis del Valle de Guaxaca, Captain General of New Spain 
 and the provinces and coasts of the South Sea, discoverer 
 and peopler of those coasts and of the island of pearls, gold 
 and Amazons, with a grant of the twelfth part, for himself and 
 heirs, of all the territory that he shall discover and conquer. 
 These powers, privileges and honors fire anew the volcanic 
 spirit of this five feet seven inch slender student of Salaman- 
 ca. In 1530, therefore, after having agreed with his sove- 
 reign to prosecute his discoveries in the South Seas at his 
 own expense, he returns to Mexico ; and finding the Audien- 
 cia, the Council of Government, still inimical to him, deter- 
 mines at once to undertake the manifold duties of his office. 
 
 Accordingly in May, 1532, he appoints Diego Hortado 
 Mendoza, a relative of his, commander of two ships which he 
 has built at Acapulco, and sends him on a cruise into the 
 Pacific. The crew of one of these vessels mutinies and 
 brings her back to Xalisco. The other, under the personal 
 command of Mendoza, is never heard of after she leaves 
 port. Misfortune never weakens Cortez* resolution. On 
 advice of his kinsman's loss and the ill fate of his expedition, 
 he proceeds to Tehuantepec, and superintends the building 
 of two other ships. These sail 11 1534 for the fabled island 
 of Amazons, under command of Hernando Grijalva and a 
 cousin of Cortez, Diego Becera Mendoza. Grijalva pro- 
 ceeds three hundred leagues to a desert island which he calls 
 San Tomas, and returns. Ximenes, the pilot of the other, kills 
 the commander, and having assumed the command, sails up 
 the Gulf-coast of California as far as the bay of Santa Cruz. 
 Here himself and twenty of his crew are destroyed by 
 11 
 
 ■'11 
 
 
 I 
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 5-1 
 
122 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 
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 Si 
 
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 i\ '• 
 
 the Indians. After this event the sailors take the vessel 
 down the coast of Mexico to a port called Cliiametla. 
 
 Ximenes' people, in the true spirit of the race to which 
 they belong, represent the country in which their pilot has 
 been killed, as fruitful and thickly peopled, and the sea around 
 it, stored with great quantities of pearl beds. So that the mis- 
 fortunes of former voyages only serve to arouse the uncon- 
 querable spirit of this magistrate of San Diego de Cuba, to 
 further effort in search of the rich islands and countries in the 
 North Pacific. He accordingly gives public notice, that Her- 
 nando Cortez, the conqueror of Mexico, Marquis del Valle, 
 His Majesty's discoverer, &c. &c., designs to take command 
 of a fleet for this purpose. Spaniards from all parts of the 
 country enter his camp at Tehuantepec ; three new ships are 
 launched, well supplied with stores for a long cruise, and sent 
 northward to Chiametia ; thither Cortez goes, with a large 
 body of priests, officers and soldiers, and several families, de- 
 signing to settle in the territories he may discover ; the ship 
 of Ximenes, lying at Chiametia, empty and plundered, is fitted 
 up as the fourth vessel of this little squadron ; and Cortez and 
 a part of his followers sail into the unknown north ; enter 
 the bay where Ximines was killed ; and call it Santa Cruz, 
 Bahia de la Paz. 
 
 Having landed his people and stores at this place, he sends 
 his ships back to Chiametia for a part of the stores and peo- 
 ple which have been left. But tempests fall upon them, and 
 contrary winds so thwart them, that only one ever retmns 
 to La Paz. Their stores and provisions consequently wane 
 fast ; the country around is desolate and barren ; death gnashes 
 his teeth upon them, and starvation walks a ghastly image 
 through their pallid ranks ; but Cortez sees a difficulty only to 
 conquer it. He immediately puts to sea in his only remaining 
 ship; crosses the gulf; coasts along its eastern shore for the 
 space of fifty leagues, amid infinite dangers from rocks, currents 
 and tempests ; finds his lost ships stranded on the coast of 
 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CA LIFORNIAS 
 
 123 
 
 e 
 o 
 
 II 
 
 Senora, and the bodies of his companions rotting and beating 
 among the breakers ! A sad end to those men was that ! A 
 dolorous termination to Cortez' hopes of discovery ! and dread- 
 ful to the people of La Paz, on a heated and desolate shore, 
 starving and thirsting, the living eating the dead and drinking 
 their blood ! On his return he finds the few wretched ones 
 who yet live, mad with hunger ! They shout with wild ma- 
 niac joy, and nish into the surf! They try to swim to the 
 ship for food and are cast back upon the shore by the surges ! 
 Many perish in the angry waters ! Cortez lands and gives 
 them food in sparing quantities. But the tides of life have 
 been ebbing too long ! Their dying energies are overtaxed ! 
 They die by twenties and are buried among the brambles with 
 the holy water sprinkled on them for a coffin and winding 
 sheet ! The rude cross of wood stands over each one's grave, 
 the symbol of faith and life to come ! And now the deep de- 
 sert, red and toneless, hears their requiem, in the clanking 
 cable of Cortez's ship, as the wailing crew heave the anchor, 
 and depart from the eastern shore of Lower California ! 
 
 Meantime report at Mexico says that the murderer of Gua- 
 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 worship 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. 
 
 
 tl!J 
 
M, 
 
 134 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 And the love of this woman still burns ardently, and alone, 
 for her absent husband. The Audlcncla at Mexico are Span- 
 iards, and as such can lay aside their jealousy of Cortez 
 when his prowess is required to save their necks. A virtue 
 this which never fails to grow where Castilian blood fertilizes 
 the human frame. The Caciques 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 fiee !" is sung on 
 all the heights from the Gulf to the PaclBc. 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 savage 
 arms, their dancings and songs, mingle in one direfvd din on 
 the ear of the Viceroy. He sends entreaties that Cortez will 
 return and save the country. These messages from the Vice- 
 roy and his wife reach, him on the coast of Senora ; he sails 
 back to La Paz ; leaves Francisco de Ulloa in charge of a 
 part of his people ', returns to 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 freedom. 
 
 Ulloa has followed his master, and awaits his orders at 
 Acapulco. 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 ; crosse? over to Califctrnia, and follows the coast to the 
 head of the Gidf. Along this coast he sees many volcanoes, 
 bare mounbiins, and barren valleys. Whales abound in the 
 sea ; and en the land he finds large, heavy, and very crooked 
 sheep's horns; also naked Indians taking fish with hooks 
 made of wood, bone, ana tortoise-shell, who wear bright 
 shells about the neck, and use the maws of sea-wolves for 
 
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TRAVELS IN THE <: A I- I F R N I A S 
 
 1:25 
 
 drinking vessels ! After a year's cruising in the Gulf, or Ma 
 do Cortez, Ulloa returns to Acapulco. 
 
 About this time Alvar Nunnez Cabeza de Vaca and his 
 tlnce companions, Castello, Dorontes, and a negro called Es- 
 tevanico, arrive at Mexico. They are the only survivors of 
 three hundred Spaniards who landed in Florid, 'th Pamfilo de 
 Narvaez, ten years before, with the intention conquering 
 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, that their language is almost the only evidence of 
 their origin. This Alvar Nunnez Cabeza 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, however, 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 merals. 
 
 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 himself dispatches an expedition by 
 sea and another by land, to discover and conquer these won- 
 der-born regions. The land force is led by Francisco Vas- 
 quez Coronado. He marches at the head of one thousand 
 chosen men j and after many hardships reaches his destination, in 
 52- N. Lat., three hundred leagues north of Culiacan, Cinaloa, 
 and Valle de Senora. He finds a province here composed of 
 seven towns in which are about four hundred men and a pro- 
 portionate number of women and children. The largest has 
 two hundred houses of earth and rough wood. Some are four 
 and five stories high. The entrance to each floor is from the 
 
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126 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
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 « I 
 
 outside by means of stairs, which, for 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 cupidity during a search of three years, they 
 return to Mexico and report to that effect. This expedition 
 has traversed the interior of Upper California, '^he arma- 
 ment, meantime, has sailed to the place of rendezvous on the 
 Pacific coast of Oregon, find awaited in idleness the arrival 
 of the land expedition. But as Grijalva was spending his time 
 in searching for a land of gold, and the fabled cities of 
 Quivira and Axa, instead of seeking 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 srar of that great 
 man is sinking j and they cannot stay its fail. Thw;irted and 
 overreached by his enemies, and finding the mind of his sove- 
 reign poisoned by their machinations, he resolves to present 
 himself again at Court and demand his rights. Accordingly, 
 in 1540, he embarks with his two sons for Spain ; attends the 
 King in his unfortunate expedition to Algiers ; and after 
 spending seven years in vain efforts ^o regain the favor of his 
 monarch, exoires of grief and disappointment at Castillya de 
 la Cuesta, while on his way to meet his dau'^hter at Cadiz. 
 Thus dies the conqueror of Mexico and discoverer of 
 California I 
 

 I 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Three hundred years ago— The Capitana, Almiranta, Frigate and Barco 
 Longo — A rare Bird— Mazatlan — A Fog and a Reef— San Barnabe — 
 Laying down Arn:j^— Rich Shores — Game — Nature's Salt Works— 
 Departure— A Northwester — A Separation— Signal Fire; — A Desert — 
 Fish — A Saline Lake— Tracts and a Meeting — An Island— A Precious 
 Mountain — Amber — Cerros — Circumnavigating — San Hypolito — Up 
 the Coast— A Gale— Out of sight— Comes o Aichor— Bahia San 
 Francisco of the South — Native Cattle — Indian Courtosy — A Meeting — 
 Another Bay — A Battle — Weighs — San Diego — Savages — Graves — 
 Santa Catarina— Its Inhabitants and Customs — Its Productions — A 
 Temple — A line of Islands — His Majesty and Hospitality — A Blow — 
 Four Canoes— Rio San Carmelo— Monterey in 1G02— Death— The Al- 
 miranta dispatched to Mexico — A Horrid Disease — The Country — Its 
 People and Animals— Bahia San Francisco of the North — Cape Men- 
 docino— Death ! Death!— Return to Mazatlan— Death— To Acapulco 
 - Lamentations ! ! 
 
 In 1542 the Viceroy of Mexico sends Juan Rodriguez Ca- 
 brillo from the Port of Navidad with two ships, on a voyage 
 of discovery up the coast of California. He touches at 
 Santa Cruz, la Magdalena, Cape del Enganno in lat. 32", 
 La Cruz in 33", de la Galera in 36^", the Bay of San Fran- 
 cisco in about 37" 40', and sees a large Cape, in lat. 40", 
 which he calls Mendocino, in honor of the Viceroy. In March, 
 1543, he reaches 44" without making any additional discover- 
 ies of importance. At this time, the cold being very intense, 
 he turns his ship homeward and enters the harbor of Navidad 
 on the 14th of April, 1545. No other expeditions are under- 
 taken to California, until 1596 ; when Count Monterey, the 
 reigning Viceroy, receives an order from Philip II. for mak- 
 ing discoveries a|jd settlements in California. In obedience 
 to this order, Sebastian Viscayno is appointed Captain-general 
 
 
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128 
 
 SCENES 
 
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 THE PACIFIC. 
 
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 of the Expedition, and Capt. Toribio Gor;ez admiral. Both 
 are persons of great worth, enterprise and skill. Two ships, 
 the Capitana and Almiranta, are purchased, and a frigate built 
 expressly for this service. There is besides a harco longo for 
 surveying creeks and bays, and such other services as cannot 
 be performed with deeper keels. Three barefooted Carmel- 
 ites, Padre Andrez de la Assumpcion, Padre Antonio de la 
 Ascencion, and Padre Tomas de Aquino, accompany the ex- 
 pedition in the capacity of spiritual advisers ; and Capt. Alon- 
 zo Estevan Peguero and Ensign Gaspar de^^Alarcon, as coun- 
 sellors in relation to the proceedings of the expedition. Capt. 
 Geronimo Martin is likewise attached tc it dS draughtsman of 
 the coasts, islands, and harbors which shall be discovered. 
 This body of officers are men of enterprise and skill ; and sup- 
 ported by the best seamen in Spanish America, great results 
 are anticipated from the voyage ! ' 
 
 On the 5th of May, 1602, the fleet sails (/ \n) . -ipulco. 
 Strong head winds and currents buffet them io. many days j 
 but on the 19th of May, they reach Puerta La Navidad, and 
 put in to obtain ballast and repair the Capitana. All which 
 being dispatched w^ith the utmost speed, they proceed on their 
 voyage and reach Capt Corrientes o" the 26th of May. 
 Having survc 3d this coast, and the adjacent country, they 
 sail northward to the Islands of Mazatlan. These they reach 
 on the 22d of June. They are two in number, lying near 
 each other, and making a fine roadstead between them and 
 the main shore. In this the Capitana and Almiranta come to 
 anchor. The frigate having been separated from them sori 
 after leaving Navidad, they fear she is lost ; but they are gi' .' 
 to find her lying in a river which empties into this roadstedUv 
 The officers and priests visit one of the islands. Great num- 
 bers of sea birds, about the size of a pfoose, having a bill 
 nearly half a yard in length, legs resembimg those of the 
 stork, and a large crop in which they carry small fish to their 
 young, cover the beach ; deer and wild goats abound inland. 
 These islands lie a . the entrance of the Gulf of California. 
 
i i 
 
 TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIA 
 
 129 
 
 Having passed a part of the day among them, they steer 
 across the mouth of the Gulf, and on the 9th of July make 
 Cape San Lucas. As they stand in, a heavy fog falls upon 
 them, and completely conceab the shore. For a day and a 
 half they lie thus enveloped, out of sight of each other, and 
 in great danger. At length it clears up a little, and the Al- 
 miranta discovers that she is within twenty-five fathoms of a 
 reef of -ocks, on which she barely escapes being dashed in 
 pieces. Having borne away from so fearful a doom, they en- 
 ter a bay where they rejoice to find the frigate already an- 
 chored. This is the day of San Barnabe, and accordingly 
 the harbor is named in honor ot that saint. 
 
 Their attention is soon attracted to the natives, who, armed 
 with bows, arrows, and spears, line the shore, shouting 
 fiercely, and throwing sand in the air. General Viscayno 
 lands with twelve soldiers, the priests and officers. But the 
 natives are so intimidated by the lighted matches and arque- 
 buses that they are near losing all communication with them, 
 when Padre Antonio de la Ascencion, 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 their 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 <■ j;ns, that there is a 11 age 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 apparently 
 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 
 
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 .ii,i 
 
 130 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC 
 
 spot, where they find the shore for some distance strewn with 
 pearl oysters of the most brilhant and various hues. 
 
 The little fleet lies in this bay several days to repair, ^nd 
 take in wood* and water. The boats, meantime, are kept 
 constantly abroad taking fish. Soles, lobsters, pearl oysters, 
 Sic, 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, 
 "he Indians of this region go entirely naked. They are, 
 iowever, extremely fond of ornamenting their hair, and of 
 painting their bodies in black and white stripes. 
 
 Having finished the repairs about the time the moon 
 changes, and having by the distribution of goods produced a 
 favorable 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 the bay of San 
 Barnabe. Three times they stand out, and as often are com- 
 pelled to return. At last they determine to leave the barco 
 longo, which the Capitana has towed, much to the detriment 
 of her progress, and on the 5th c. July, for the fourth time, 
 attempt to gain the open sea. The Almiranta and Capitana 
 with great difficulty make some headway against the tem- 
 pest. But the frigate is obliged to part company, and run in 
 under the land. When the gale abates, the commander is 
 desirous of uniting with the frigate, and for this purpose lays 
 in for the shore. On the 8th they make land under the 
 blow of some lofty hills, where they are becalned. This 
 range of highlands they call Sierra del Enfado, or Mount 
 
 1 
 
TRAVELS IN THE C A L 1 F R N I A S 
 
 131 
 
 IS 
 
 lys 
 he 
 
 Tedious. On the 16th a breeze fills their sails, and the ships 
 stand away for the harbor de la Magdalena. Here they are 
 enveloped in a fog so dense that a man cannot be seen at 
 six paces. The Capitana runs into the harbor, but the Alrai- 
 ranta is compelled to turn her prow seaward. When the 
 fog clears up, therefore, they have lost sight of each other. 
 The people of the Capitana mount the hills which skirt the 
 harbor, and build signal fires on the heights. These are seen 
 by the people of the Almiranta ; but mistaking them for the 
 fires of the Indians, continue to stand off. The Captain-Gene- 
 ral now becomes very anxious for the missing ship 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 again 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 f om 
 standing as far from the shore as they desire. But they bear 
 away along the coast, and soon after heave in sight of a bay 
 which seems to be formed by the mouth of a river. 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 the 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 to search for them. 
 The country, however, is perfectly barren and destitute of all. 
 An islanjj is in sight which promises the required aid. It 
 proves to be small, with a soil of gravel and sand, and 
 thronged with gulls. 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 
 
 
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 SCENES IN TIfE PACIFIC. 
 
 being out in search of water and wood, find a lake filled with 
 very good salt. Near it are some pits containing brackish 
 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 Cerros 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 
 bright 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 them to land. 
 
 They 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 anchjr at the island 
 of 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 that she has been lying 
 in a fine harbor since the nineteenth ; that she has just weigh- 
 ed for the purpose of circumnavigating the island ^n 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 water is found so remote, that the 
 General sends Ensign Juan Francisco and Sergeant Miguel de 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIAS. 
 
 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 report 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 ships of the fleet being supplied with 
 water, they set sail on the ninth of September. Their course 
 is northerly, towards the main shore. They make it on the 
 eleventh, and discover a fine bay, which they call San Hypo- 
 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 beautiful. A broad and well-beaten road 
 leads inland from the coast to a large hut covered with palm- 
 leaves, 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 
 12 
 
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134 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC 
 
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 a distance from the shore that they cannot land. The sea, 
 meanwhile, running 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 Almiranta being in much jeopardy from the m- 
 juries received the previous night, the General determines to 
 look for some harbor where they may be secure against the 
 heavy storm presaged by the fog. He finds none; but much to 
 their surprise, the following day opens clear, and with a gentle 
 breeze, which carries them off the 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 j 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 lessened. He there- 
 fore puts into a fine harbor which they have iliscoveied 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 YirCa. Its shoals abound in the finest cod and other fish. 
 Of th&se they take a supply for all the ships. Beyond the 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIA 8, 
 
 135 
 
 % 
 
 island thty discover a large bay into which a considerable 
 creek empties itself with a strong current.. The frigate goes 
 in to survey it. They observe great numbers of naked 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. When these 
 things are reported to Captain Viscayno, he orders a tent to 
 be pitched for the celebration of mass, and preparations made 
 to lie here till the Almiranta comes up, or all hope of her is lost. 
 They take in wood and water. Every morning the Indi- 
 ans bring them a supply 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 General and the Padres. The Spaniards return their 
 courtesy v^'ith trifling presents, which enlist their wonder and 
 admiration no deeply, that immense numbers of Indian men, 
 and women with two infants each, flock from the neighboring 
 rancherias ; pror.ounce 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 on 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 mexcalli 
 or maguey, boiled and prepared as a conserve. Of both 
 these articles they give great quantities to the Spaniards 
 return for the beads and other trifles. They in- 
 
 m 
 
 form their visitors that up in the country there are a great 
 many people who wear clothes and beads, and have fire-arms. 
 They are supposed to refer to Onate's land expedition from 
 Mexico. 
 
 Having now abandoned all hop» of the Almiranta, if being 
 twenty-eight days since she parted from them, the G»meral, 
 on the twenty-founn 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. " 
 
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 136 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC 
 
 Being now all united again, the General gives* orders to 
 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 the bay. The next 
 morning Captain Peguero and Ensign Alarcon are sent ashore 
 with some soldiers to look for wood and fresh 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 boldj but do not molest the 
 Spaniards till some presents are offered them. Construing 
 this act into a sign of fear on the part of their visitors, they 
 at once become 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 further 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 when a small party 
 goes on shore to obtain water, they become so very trouble- 
 some that two soldiers who have their matches lighted, order 
 ihem to stand back. But this only increases their audacity. 
 One of them throws his bow over the head of a soldier. The 
 pilot draws his sabre, and severs it. They now draw up in 
 form, and place their arrows 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 wind among 
 the neighboring rancherias, and in a short time two hundred 
 Indians painted fiercely, wearing plumes upon their heads, 
 and armed with bows and arrows, rush down to attack the 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIAS. 
 
 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 soldiers 
 who boar 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 they call Coronadas. On the tenth 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 j 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- 
 12* 
 
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136 
 
 SCENES IN T 11 F. PACIFIC 
 
 tion of mass, and preparation to be made for repairing the 
 ships. One part of the crews 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 
 white 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 beads, biscuit, &c., t^^ey return and 
 make such a report to their people as soon \ s the whole 
 troop down lo the water side. They are g,_..w.ally 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. Wliile 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 j and the well known trees 
 
TRAVELS IN THE C A L I F R N I A S 
 
 139 
 
 which spread their branches over them, are discernible as 
 they leave the land ! 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 
 surrounded 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, and Ensign Alarcon, with 
 twenty-four soldiers, to land on the island, and learn what the 
 natives so earnestly desire. As soon as they reach the shore, 
 they are surrounded by Indian men and women, who treat 
 them with much kindness and propriety, and intimate that 
 they have seen other Spaniards. When asked for water they 
 give it to the whites in a sort of bottle, made of rushes. 
 
 They explore the island. It appears to be overgrown with 
 savin and a species of briar. A tent is pitched for religious 
 service, and Padre Tomas being ill. Padres Antonio and An- 
 drez celebrate mass in presence of all the people. These In- 
 dians spend much of their time in takyig the many varieties 
 of fish which abound in the bay. They have boats made of 
 plank, capable of containing twenty persons. In these they 
 cany long slender poles, to which harpoons of fish-bone are 
 attached by long ropes. They strike with the harpoon and 
 pay out rope till the fish is unable to run longer, and then if 
 it be small, take it into the boat, or if large tow it ashore. 
 They prize the sea-wolf most highly, as well on account of its 
 flesh, which they eat, as its skin, of which they make most of 
 their clothing. 
 
 
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 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 The women of this tribe are beautiful, modest, and ex- 
 tremely well conducted. The children have fine complexions 
 and are verj amiable. They live in large huts, dispersed in 
 rancherias, and have many convenient utensils made of rushes. 
 Their island abounds in a small root resembling the common 
 potato, which is much prized as an article of food. On this 
 island is a very large level enclosure, with an altar in the 
 centre surrounded by a circular wall or partition of various 
 colored feathers. Within this circle is a figure painted 
 with a great variety of huei>, and resembling the image by 
 which the Indians of Mexico typify the devil. In its hands 
 are the figures of tbe Sun and Moon. As the soldiers ap- 
 proach this place they discover two very large crows within 
 the enclosure, which rise on their coming up and alight on 
 some rocks in the vicinity. Before the guide can remonstrate, 
 their pieces are levelled and both birds fall. This pet calls 
 forth th^ bitterest lamentations from the Indian, who evidently 
 regards them as sacred to his deity. Santa Catarina has se- 
 veral fine haibors. It abounds in paitridges, quails, rabbits, 
 hare and deer. The people are very numerous, and exhibit 
 much ingenuity in pilfering from their visitors. 
 
 On the twenty-first of December the squadron leaves Santa 
 Catarina to explore other islands which extend in a line nearly 
 one hundred leagues up the coast. They are found to be inhab- 
 ited by shrewd, active people, who trade much among them- 
 selves and witii their neighbors on the couvlnent. Between 
 a portion of them and the main land is a channel called the 
 Canal de Santa Barbara. After exploring the~ the f jet 
 puts back to the continent, near the southern mouth of this 
 channel. Be*'ore they reach the shore, however, four men 
 come up to the Capitana, and row three times round her 
 with the most astonishing swiftness, all the while chanting a 
 kind of v/ild measure, similar to what the Indians of Mexico 
 call almaiote. By this the Spaniards understand that they 
 have the Indian king or cacique on board. And so it proves j 
 for whf the ceremony is over, his majesty steps on board the 
 
">• I 
 
 TRAVELS IK THE CALIFORNIAS, 
 
 141 
 
 }'i<\ 
 
 Capitana, and after walking three times around the quarter- 
 deck, addresses himself in a long speech to the General and 
 his officers. This being concluded, he adopts the more intel- 
 ligible method of signs, to inform the Spaniards that the na- 
 tives of Santa Catarina have sent his majesty advic^" of their 
 visit, and have also spoken of their bravery, generosity, find 
 the many presents made by thern. All these thinj^s have 
 kindled in his majesty a desire to cultivate the acquaintrince 
 of such illustrious persons ; and he backs his protestations of 
 regard by the proposition to furnish them with everything 
 they desire io eat and drink, and with the moderate supply 
 of ten women each ! To prove his ability in this last offer, 
 himself and son will remain as hostages while one of the sol- 
 diers shall go on shore and ascertain the fact. As it is near 
 night, however, the General very ungallantly declines his 
 offer in behalf of himself and crew j and his majesty at length 
 departing, it is thought best to improve the fair wind then 
 coming on, to prosecute the voyage. Setting all sail, there- 
 fore, they progress rapidly till they nearly complete the sur- 
 vey of the channel. The breeze leaves them opposite a 
 cluster of islands, six in number, and about two leagues dis- 
 tant from each other. The channel is ascertained to be about 
 twenty-four leagues in length. The main coast is beautifully 
 diversified with woodland and lawn, among which are several 
 Indian villages. 
 
 The following night the wind changes to northwest, and 
 blows a tremendous gale for about sixty hours. The waters 
 in the channel are lifted into moimtains. The ships are driven 
 almost uncontrolled among the islands. The greatest fear 
 prevails that all will be lost. On the third day, however, the 
 tempest abates. Th3 Capitana and Almiranta are safe, and 
 with the fair-weather stand in for the continent. But the fri- 
 gate is missing. The coast is skirted with lofty mountains 
 which shelter some fine bays. From one of these, four ca- 
 noes run out at the same moment, filled with savages bring- 
 ing a large quantity of excellent sardines. These Indians 
 
 
 •y 
 
 I 
 
142 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 are tall, fine-looking people. They cover themselves with 
 goat-skins before entering the ships ; and as if sensible that 
 language not understood woul ■ be of no use, they utter not 
 a word, but express their thout^hts by signs. Appearing very 
 good-natured, and not disposed to pilfer, the Spaniards pre- 
 sent to them some clothing and trinkets, with which they 
 seem delighted. The next day, others coming on board 
 urge the General to bring his ships to their country, 
 in order that they may furnish him with plenty of fish and 
 acorns. 
 
 The frigate now rejoins the ships. She has been driven 
 among the islands, and experienced much hospitality from 
 the natives. They now all get under way and stand nearer 
 the shore in search of a harbor. The whole coast has been 
 enveloped in a thick fog since the gale. A fair wind, how- 
 ever, springing up, they run along the edge of the mist till the 
 fourteenth of January, when the weather clearing, they find 
 themselves under a ridge of high mountains, white at the 
 top, and clothed with wood at the base. This range they 
 call Sierra de Santa Lucia. Four leagues beyond it a river 
 tumbles through a ledge of rocks into the sea. Its banks are 
 covered with black and white poplar, willow, birch, and pine. 
 This stream they call Rio San Carmelo. 
 
 Two leagues farther on is a splendid harbor, between which 
 and the mouth of the Carmelo, is a heavy pine wood, form- 
 ing a cape. This is Punto de Pinos. In this harbor the 
 squadron comes to anchor. The crews are very much 
 reduced by sickness. The master and mate of the Al- 
 miranta are both unable to leave their births j the Captain- 
 General and his mate are scarcely able to appear on deck ; a 
 great many of the soldiers and boys are very sick ; and 
 sixteen have died since leaving Bahia de San Francisco. 
 Under these circumstances it is resolved that the Almiranta 
 shall be sent back under the command of Admiral Gomez, 
 with the two pilots Pasqual and Balthazar, and all the sick j 
 that she shall take a sufficient number of sound men to man 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIAS. 
 
 143 
 
 her; and that the rest shall go on board of the Capitana and 
 frigate. The General will send advices and a chart of all his 
 discoveries, with a request that a reinforcement and supplies 
 may be sent on early in the spring, to enable him to complete 
 the survey of the coast and Gulf. 
 
 In accordance with this arrangement the sick are put on 
 boanl with great care; Padre Thomes de Aquino is assigned to 
 accompany them, and on the twenty-ninth of January the 
 Almiranta sets sail for Acapulco. The disease which preys 
 so distressingly and fatally on the ships' crews is one of a very 
 singular character. It is supposed to arise from the action of 
 the cold winds of this region upon the relaxed constitutions 
 of persons who come into it f -m warmer climates. The pa- 
 tient is seized with violent pains throughout the system, which 
 are soon followed by such extreme sensibility as forbids the 
 shghtest touch. This latter .symptom is often so excruciating 
 as to draw tears and groans from the stoutest men. Soon 
 after this the surface becomes spotted with an eruption of a 
 purple color, fine and sharp, feeling as if shot were inserted 
 under the skin. These are followed by wales or hues of the 
 same color, similar to those raised by the ini^iction of severe 
 blows. They are about the width of two fingers ; appear 
 first on the upper posterior portion of the thigh ; but soon 
 spread themselves to the flexure of the knee. Wlierever they 
 appear the parts l^ ..ome rigid, and remain in the position in 
 which they were first seized. Tiie whole systeni now swells 
 prodigiously, and the patient cannot be raov d in any manner 
 without suffering extreme torture. The di-sease finally ex- 
 tends itself to all parts of the body, affecting pr., icularly the 
 shoulders, head and loins, and causing 'he most distressing 
 pains in the kidneys. No relief can be obtained by change 
 of position ; for the slightest motion is agony. In time the 
 entire body is covered with ulcers so exoor singly sensitive 
 that the pressure of the lightest bed coviiiugis intolerable. 
 At length the gums and jaws swell so that the mouth cannot 
 be closed, and in many cases the teeth drop out ! The vio- 
 
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144 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 !*■ II 
 
 lence of the disease and the debility arising from it are such, 
 that the patients frequently die while talking with their 
 friends. Such is the dreadful pestilence that has swept the 
 Captain-General's ranks, and now fills the Almiranta with 
 groans, shrieks, prayers and curses ! 
 
 Wliile she is making her way back to Acapulco, the Capi- 
 tana and frigate remain in the harbor < f Monterey to take in 
 wood and water, and explore the adjacent country. They 
 find this finely diversified with lawns and groves of pine, firs, 
 willow and poplars, with an abundant undergrowth of roses 
 and fragrant shrubs. The open lands are also dotted with 
 clear, pure lakes. The country is inhabited by a grea*: vari- 
 ety of wild beasts. A large bear, a species of horned cattle 
 similar in size and shape to the buffalo, and another which, 
 from the description, might be ancestor of the Americana 
 Horribilis, are among the most remarkable. The voyagers 
 give to this latter beast the size of the wolf, the form and 
 horns of the stag, the skin and neck of the pelican, a tail half 
 a yard in width and twice as long, and a cloven foot ! If it 
 were a native, one might be led to speculate on the propin- 
 quity of sulphur ! The country also abounds in deer, rabbits, 
 hare, wild-cats, bustards, geese, ducks, pigeons, partridges, 
 thrushes, sparrows, g. . .Inches, cranes, vultures, and another 
 bird about the size of a turkey. On the seaboard are great 
 numbers of gulls, cormorants, and other sea-fowl. The sea 
 abounds in oysters, lobsters, crabs, sea-wolves, porpoises and 
 whales. On the shores are many rancharias, the residents of 
 which are an affable, generous people, living under some form 
 of government. They use the native arms and subsist chiefly 
 on fish a ad game. They seem fond of the Spaniards, and ex- 
 press the most sincere sorrow at their intention to leave them 
 But this is unavoidable. Both vessels run out of the harbor 
 with a fair wind, on the fifth day of January, 1603, and stand 
 away northward. 
 
 Soon after passing the harbor of San Francisco, in Lat. 37° 
 45', they lose sight of each other, and the Capitana puts 
 
 L 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIF0RNIA8 
 
 145 
 
 back into it, to await the arrival of the frigate, and also to 
 survey the harbor and surrounding country. Another reason 
 which the Captain-General has for wishing to stop here is to 
 ascertain if there be any remains of the San Augustine, which 
 had been driven ashore in 1595 with other vessels sent by 
 the Government from the Philippine Islands, to survey the 
 coast t>f California. The pilot of this squadron, Francisco 
 Valanos, is acquainted with the country. He reports that 
 they left a large cargo of wax and several chests of silk on 
 the shore o ^ this harbor. The General, therefore, runs the 
 Capitana in, and anchors her behind a point of land called 
 Punta de los Reyes. Becoming more anxious, however, for the 
 fate of the frigate, he weighs the next day and runs out in 
 search of her. A gentle northwester takes him up the coast 
 within sight of Cape Mendocino, when a violent southwester, 
 accompanied by sleet and a heavy sea, combined with the 
 sickly state of the crew, induces him to seek a southerly 
 harbor, in which to await the joming of spring and the rein- 
 forcement from Mexico. 
 
 They are now in a deplorable state. Six seamen only are 
 able to be on deck. The officers are all sick. The Padres 
 are scarcely able to administer the last rites to the dying ; 
 and the few well ones are in dreadful consternation lest a 
 storm come on, and the ship go down, for want of men to 
 manage her. This determination of General Viscayno, 
 therefore, raises the spirits of the healthy, and cheers the sick 
 to their best efforts. When the wind changes so that the fog 
 is dispersed, the pilots take an observation and find themselves 
 in Lat. 42^, opposite a cape which runs eastwardly, and 
 unites with a range of snowy mountains. This they call 
 Cabo Blanco de Sebastian. The lost frigate runs very near 
 the Capitana during the storm spoken of, but not being 
 able to live in such a sea, she comes to anchor under a huge 
 rock near Cape Mendocino. The pilot, Florez, when the 
 storm abates, finds himself in Lat. 43° north, near Cape 
 Blanco, and the mouth of a large river, whose banks are 
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 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 <';overcd with ash, willow, and other trees, well known to the 
 Spaniards. This river they are very desirous to explore, 
 supposing it v'"ll conduct them to the great city reported by 
 some Dutch ariners, 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 ofMan- 
 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 mc nent 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 mir^i on board ! Orders are conveyed in 
 the quiet tone of conversation! The good Padre Andrez 
 moves quietly about among the ' pick, 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 Ililario 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 CALIF0RNIA8. 
 
 147 
 
 A. 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
 across the mouth of the Gulf, enters a harbor near the island of 
 Mazatlan on the seventeenth of the same month. An account 
 of his condition being sent to the Viceroy, he determines to go 
 in person to San Sebastian, a village about eight leagues from 
 the harbor, for more immediate aid. He starts on the 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 othc . 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, XocohuUtzes. It resembles 
 an apple. The leaves ol 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, purifies 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. In 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 ^he gums contracted upon the teeth so that they no 
 longer rattled in his mouth. The poor seamen and soldiers 
 have suffered most deplorably from this malady. By the use 
 
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148 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC 
 
 111! !-!' 
 
 of this fruit they begin to recover. Nor have the Padres been 
 less af&icted. Such is the condition 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, are 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 
 coimtenances of their friends, and rushing on board embrace 
 them with loud lamentations ! The Almiranta rides hard by. 
 The frigate arrives in '" .orable a state as the Capitana. 
 Her crew is reduced to a number scarcely sufficient to remem- 
 ber the sufferings and le names of those who have died. 
 Thus terminates the voyage of Viscayno. He has explored 
 the whole Pacific coast of Upper and Lower California. 
 
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CHAPTER IX 
 
 A.D, 1615— A. D. 1633-4— Don Pedro Portel de Cassanale- A.D. 1647— 
 A.D. 1666-7— A.D. 1683— Indians— A Battle— All busy— Orders 
 from Mexico— Ships dispatched — A Garrison and Church— An Ex- 
 pedition into the Interior — Despatches arrive— A Determination- 
 Padre Kino— Padre Juan Maria Sai.va Tierha- 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 Juui Iturbi obtains i license 
 for making a voyage at his own expt se. 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 io 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 appointc ' 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 
 13* 
 
 
 
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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 1633 and '34, Capt. Ortega makes two 
 other voycges 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 colonization, 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 pilot 
 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 His 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 Villena and Duke of 
 Esclona, returns to Spain under suspicion, and is succeeded 
 by Don Juan de Palafox. The Marquis successfully vindi- 
 cates himself against the malicious charges of his enemies, 
 and procures an expedition to California to be ordered under 
 Admiral Don Pedro Portel de Cassanate. This man is em- 
 powered to build and equip fleets, and make settlements in 
 California, and do such other acts as he may deem best calcu- 
 lated to bring the native^ of that country into the church. The 
 
■iK 
 
 TRAVELS IN THE C A L 1 F R N I A 6 
 
 151 
 
 spiritual welfare of this expedition is committed to Padres 
 Jacinto Cortez and Aiuirez Baes, Missionaries of Cinaloa. 
 
 Having arrived at Cinaloa, Cassanate receives instructions 
 to go out and meet the Philippine ship -which it is feared will 
 fall into the hands of English or Dutch pirates. He brings 
 her safely in ; and while he is making preparations 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 ship into Acapulco. This done, he 
 proceeds to lay the results of his expedition before the Viceroy. 
 
 This excellent man is soon after promoted to the Govern- 
 ment of Chili ; and California is neglected till 1665, 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 Venderas. In 1666 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 
 mother, acting as Regent, orders Pinadero to make another 
 attempt. In this he is accompanied by the celebrated Padre 
 Kino. This likewise results in nothing valuable. In the fol- 
 lowing year Francisco Luzenilla obtains a license for a voy- 
 age at his own expense. This proves, like all others, fruit- 
 less of results worthy of note. In 1667, the importance of 
 making a settlement in California for a rendezvous of ships 
 trading to the Philippine Islands, is again brought before the 
 Council of the Indies ; and it is finally determined to instruct 
 the Viceroy and the Archbishop of Mexico to send out Admi- 
 ral Pinadero again, if he will give security for the perform- 
 ance of that duty according to the decrees of Council; and if 
 he decline, to make the offer to any person who will under- 
 
 ■ »- 
 
 ^' i 
 
 y I'i 
 
 I i.i 
 
 I 
 
 V,' 
 
 ilM 
 
152 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC 
 
 take it, at his own expense ; and if none so offer, it is ordered 
 to be accomplished at the expense of the crown. Admiral 
 Pinadero having refused. Admiral Otondo accepts the proposi- 
 tion. The spiritual Government is conferred on the Jesuits. 
 Padhe Klno as superior, and Padres Copart and Goni accom- 
 pany the expedition. 
 
 They put to sea from Chacala on the eighteenth of May, 
 1683, and in foi teen days reach La Paz. They think it 
 singular, on landii !^, not to sec any Indians; but as soon as 
 they begin to erect a garrison, considerable numbers appear, 
 armed and hideously painted, who intimate by signs that the 
 Spaniards must leave their country. After some effort, how- 
 ever, on the part of the Padres, and uniform kindness from the 
 officers, soldiers and seamen, their intercourse becomes 
 apparently unconstrained and friendly. Soon, howevc, cir- 
 cumstances occur which arouse suspicion. The reported 
 murder of a mulatto boy, added to some indignities towards 
 the garrison, indicate the need of great watchfulness on the 
 part of the voyagers. Danger lurks near them. The Guaya- 
 curos among whom they sojourn, offer to unite with their 
 enemies, the Coras, for the extirpation of the Spaniards. The 
 Coras appear to entertain the proposition, but report ii *c ,.]\e 
 Admiral on their earliest opportunity. The soldiers are thrown 
 into such a panic by the discovery of this plot, that the Admi- 
 ral and Padres are obliged to exert all their authority and 
 persuasion to induce them to meet the event with fortitude. 
 The day of the intended massacre arrives. The Indians ap- 
 pear, to the number of thirteen or fourteen hundred. A pa- 
 dererOj or cannon, is fired among them, by which ten or 
 tweWe are killed and several wounded. The remainder 
 retire in confusion to their rancherias. The garrison 
 is safe; no one even wounded. But this victory does 
 not discourage 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 forms of death; 
 and every howl of the lean wolf upon the heights, grates like 
 
 * 
 
 N 
 
TRAVELS IN THE C A L 1 F 11 N r A S 
 
 153 
 
 h 
 
 A 
 
 a coffin screw on their cars. Otonilo is, therelbre, obliged to 
 weigh anchor for liiaqui on the Senora shore. Here he sells 
 all his pearls, and pledges his plate lor stores. Like a braVe 
 man bent on his end, he seeks again the Californian shore, 
 and on the sixth of October anchors at San Bruno Bay, iu 
 Lat. 26^ 30'. 
 
 On the same day, Otondo, the three Padres, and some sol- 
 diers, explore for freshwater, and find it in a narrow vale one 
 mile and a iialf from shore. Near this they establish a gar- 
 rison, build a rude church, and some huts. And now Otondo 
 sends two ships to Mexico with an account of his proceed- 
 ings, and a request for more money ; takes possession of the 
 country in the name of the king ; goes fifty leagues westward 
 in the month of December among mountains and desert vales ; 
 ascends an elevation, where he finds several leagues of table 
 land, with a temperate climate and a fresh-water lake of 
 small size ; advances beyond, on a toilsome journey over steeps 
 and depths, in search of a peak from which to see the Pacific 
 Ocean ; fails to do so, and returns to San Bruno. The Indians 
 whom they meet are much delighted with the paternal kindness 
 of the Padres. Otondo employs himself a year in like ex- 
 plorations at different points along the coast. The Padres 
 are busy meantime in learning the language of the Indians 
 and instructing them in the Catholic religion. They trans- 
 late the Catechism, teach it to the children, and these in turn 
 teach it to theu: parents. The voice of heathenism utters 
 prayers to Jehovah on the Cahfornian mountains ! 
 
 The Padres find no word in their language to represent the 
 resurrection of the dead. That idea has not existed in their 
 minds, and consequently has no expression in their language. 
 Resort is had to a very ingenious method of finding one 
 which will present it. Some flies are immersed in water un- 
 til animation seems extinct. They are then placed among 
 ashes in the heat of the sun till restored to life. The In- 
 dians who witness the operation cry out, Ibirauhueite ! Ibi- 
 muhueite ! This word or expression is afterward uSed to 
 
 il 
 
 ■I 
 
 
 ft 
 
 ^1 
 
 'If 11 
 
 3 ;:| 
 
154 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC 
 
 i;i 
 
 
 represent the resurrection of the Savl-ur, and conveys lo the 
 Indian a clear conception of that holy event. The Padres 
 instruct during the year four hundred adults and many child- 
 ren, but baptize none except .those who are at the door of 
 death. Some of these sick indeed, recover, and prove useful 
 teachers. Most of thein, however, die, holding fast their 
 new faith. In these jeveial ways do the priests and Otondo 
 consume the year. At i ; c^ose, dispatches arrive from the 
 Viceroy requiring an acceunt of proceedings, and forbidding 
 any farther attempts to be made for the conquest and settle- 
 ment of California which should involve the Government in 
 expense. 
 
 On the reception of these dispatches a council of the Pa- 
 dr.^s and military officers is held, the determination of which 
 is, that a small ship shall be sent with dispatches to Mexico, 
 that the Padres shall continue to teach the Indians, and Oton- 
 do to explore the country and pearl beds. In September, 
 1685, however, a perem^jiory order comes prohibiting farther 
 efforts at settling the country, and ordering, if possible, to 
 keep possession of what is already conquered. But it has 
 now become apparent that San Bruno must be abandoned. 
 No rain has fallen for nearly two years ; dearth, thirst, and 
 hunger, stand near them ; and to escape is the settled desire 
 of all, except the priests. These men of iron souls would 
 stay to teach the savage. But Otondo weighs anchor, and 
 with priests, soldiers, seamen, and three native converts, 
 squares his yards for the harbor of Matanchel, on the Mexi- 
 can shore. 
 
 This is the last expedition of the civil power of Spain to 
 conquer and settle California. Padre Kino has begun to 
 conquer it ivith the Cross j and we shall follow him in bis 
 triumphs and trials while he achieves it. I'he professor of 
 Ingoldstadt, Paihe Kino, the devotee of San Xavier, traverses 
 Mexico preaching to his V -^ther Jesuits the glories of mar- 
 tyrdom, and the rich reward of those who save from wo the 
 doomed and lost. In order to forward his zeal, he is ap- 
 
 4 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIAS 
 
 155 
 
 ■' 
 
 pointed to the charge of the Missions on the Senora coast, 
 whence it will be easy to send supplies across the Gulf to the 
 more barren regions of the peninsula. Padre Juan Maria 
 Salva Tierra is designated to lead the way on the California 
 side. He solicits contributions ; obtains Padre Juan Ugarte, a 
 professor in the college at Mexico, as a fellow-laborer ; fif- 
 teen thousand dollars to be pledged the Society of Jesuits for 
 the enterprise ; ten thousand more to be given it as a fund 
 for one mission ; prevails upon the Commissary of the Inqui- 
 sition at Queretaro, Don Juan Cavalero Y. Ozio, to subscribe 
 funds for two other missions, and obligate himself to pay what- 
 ever bills shall be drawn on him by Papre Salva Tierra. 
 
 The license for the Jesuits to enter California is granted on 
 the fifth of February, 1627. The special warrants empower- 
 ing Padres Kino and Salva Tierra to enter California are 
 subject to these conditions : that they waste nothing belong- 
 ing to the king, nor draw upon the government treasury with- 
 out express orders from his majesty ; that they take posses- 
 sion of the country, and hold it in the name of the King of 
 Spain. 
 
 The powers granted them in these warrants are, to enlist 
 soldiers at their own expense ; appoint a commander, whose 
 immunities shall be accounted the same as in time of war ; to 
 commission magistrates for the administration of justice in 
 California ; and discharge all these from their service at will. 
 With full powers both civil and ecclesiastical, therefore, and 
 the treasury both of the Inquisition and of many private indivi- 
 duals to draw upon, Padre Salva Tierra goes from Mexico to 
 Guadalaxara ; thence to Hiaqui, in Senora ; and thence on the 
 tenth of October, 1697, with five soldiers, Estevan Rodriguez 
 Lorenzo, Bartolem^ de Robles Figueroa, Juan Caravana, 
 Nicolas Marques, and Juan, with their commander, Don Luis 
 de Torres Tortnlero, embarks for the scene of his future trials. 
 A great moral herOj with his little band, kneeling in prayer 
 on the deck of a galliot, bound for the conquest of California ! 
 The sails are loosened to the winds ; they leave the harbor ; 
 
 ■I, I' 
 
 hi 
 
 
 HI 
 
 i i 
 
156 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 but they have proceeded hardly a league, when a squall comes 
 on, which strands them on the beach. All now appear to be 
 lost. But they save themselves in the long-boat ; and when 
 the tide rises, the galliot floats 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, fifty Indians 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, and animals, therefore, are landed, and the barracks of 
 the little garrison built ; a line of circuravallation is thrown 
 up, in the centre of which a temporary chapel is raised ; be- 
 fore it a crucifix, adorned with a garland of flowers, is erect- 
 ed ; and " the image of our Lady of Loretto, as patroness of 
 the conquest, is brought in procession from the galliot, and 
 placed with proper solemnity." On the twenty-fifth of Oc- 
 tober, formal possession is taken of the country in the name 
 of the King of Spain. 
 
 Thus commences the religious conquest of California by 
 Padre Salva Tierka ; a voluntary exile from the highest cir- 
 cles of European life ; a great man, with a strong and kind 
 heart ; abandoning kindred, ease, and intellectual society, for 
 the well-being of the stupid and filthy natives of the Cali- 
 fomian deserts. 
 
 The Padre now sends the galliot to Hiaqui for Padre 
 Piccolo, some soldiers and provisions. Meantime he applies 
 himself with unceasing assiduity to learning the Indian lan- 
 guage and leaching religion. He pursues the same course as 
 he would with stupid children ; induces them to learn the 
 prayers and catechisms, by rewarding attention and industiy 
 with something to eat. By thus addressing their strongest 
 propensity as a stimulant for the acquisition of knowledge] 
 he hopes to awaken and instruct their higher faculties of 
 thought and sense of right. In the latter he, for a time, fails. 
 
 i) 
 
 
u 
 
 TRAVELS IN THE CALIF ORNIAS. 
 
 157 
 
 of 
 s. 
 
 For the savages, dissatisfied with the amount of food which 
 the Padre gives them, fall upon the animals of the post, 
 destroy them, and steal corn from the sacks. Nor are they 
 satisfied with this. They meditate a general attack on the 
 garrison, in order to destroy or drive the people from the 
 country. The good Padre knows their designs, but continues 
 his kindness. Their insolence increases. On the thirteenth 
 of November, the tribes meet to strike a decisive blow. 
 Four savages come to the camp about noon, while the garri- 
 son are eating. The sentinel tries to prevent their entering 
 the trenches, and one of the boldest of them deprives him of 
 the staff used as a halberd. The soldier cries out, and Tor- 
 tolero running up, wrests it from the Indian with such force 
 and boldness, that the invaders are frightened and retire. At 
 this moment the Indian Alonzo de Tepahui, who keeps the 
 swine and sheep in a valley overgrown with rushes and flags, 
 is assaulted by another party. But aid being immediately 
 rendered, himself and animals are saved. And now falls a 
 shower of arrows and stones from five hundred Indians, ad- 
 vancing to attack the camp. 
 
 Ten men and one Californian Indian compose the garrison. 
 And how shall they be so detailed as to meet this numerous 
 force ? Tortolero, the acting commander, stations hin self and 
 Bartolerae de Robles on the entrenchment facing the lower 
 part of the valley, the post of greatest danger ; on the oppo- 
 site side are Juan de Peru and the Indian Alonzo de Tepahui ; 
 on the side looking towards the river, stands the bold and 
 active Indian Marcos Guazavas ; on the remaining side is 
 Estevan Rodrigues ; the Maltese Juan Caravana has the care 
 of the paderero, or cannon, placed at the gate of the camp; 
 and near to him is Nicolas Marques, the Sicilian, as assistant 
 gunner; Salva Tieura and Sebastien, his Indian, occupy the 
 centre, in order to give aid where there should be the most 
 need. The forces have barely time to make this disposition of 
 themselves, when the savages begin to advance on all .;ides, 
 with dreadful shouting and outcries. They are repulsed with as 
 14 
 
 ( i 
 
 
 I il 
 
 1 " 
 
i. 
 
 ■■' \ 
 
 158 
 
 SCENES IV THE PACIFIC 
 
 little destruction of life as possible. Padre Salva Tierra de- 
 sires that course to be pursued. The Indians return to the at- 
 tack repeatedly for two hours, throwing stones, arrows, and 
 wooden javelins into the trenches, when suddenly the whole 
 body retreats and the action ceases. Half an hour elapses, and 
 they return reinforced, and press upon the trenches with rage so 
 fierce and deadly, that the hope of successful resistance with- 
 out the paderero grows faint. The Padre, therefore, consents 
 to have it fired. The match is applied. But instead of de- 
 stroying the Indians, it bursts in pieces and flies about tliQ 
 camp, knocking Juan Caravana senseless to the ground. 
 The Indians against whom it has been levelled, perceive this 
 misfortune, and send notice of it to others with the remark, 
 that since the paderero does not kill, they need not fear the 
 smaller pieces. Of this they are the more persuaded, because 
 the Padre has ordered the soldiers to shoot over them. And 
 the kind old priest, now that the Captain thinks it necessary to 
 fire into the Indian ranks, rushes between the guns and the 
 savages, beseeching them not to press on sure destruction ! 
 Three arrows shot at him are the reward of his kindness. 
 Happily, the Padre is not injured. But he withdraws and 
 leaves them to their fate. And now they fall before the 
 muskets of the soldiers ! The wounded and dying groan on 
 every si^e ! A route succeeds ! They fly in confusion to their 
 villages ! 
 
 Soon after, messengers of peace arrive. The first is a 
 Chief. He weeps ; he talks in broken grief; he acknow- 
 ledges himself the cause of these disturbances ; he first formed 
 the plot, inspirited and drew in the other tribes ; he and they 
 have sought vengeance ; but are now sincerely repentant. 
 Next comes a band of women leading children. They seat 
 themselves at the gate of the camp, and weeping bitterly, and 
 promising good conduct for themselves and their husbands, 
 offer the children as hostages. The good Padre is greatly 
 rejoiced to see these signs of sorrow; explains to them 
 
 . 
 
 1^ 
 
a 
 
 
 »' 
 
 TRAVELS IN T JI K < A L I F O R N I A S . 
 
 159 
 
 the wickedness of their acts; and promises them peace, 
 friendship, and other good things, if their husbands prove 
 true to their league. And receiving one of the children in 
 order to remove all suspicion from their minds, sends them to 
 their 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 * our 
 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 Jive Maria to our lady as then: 
 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 Loreito. 
 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 California ! 
 
 On the twenty-third of November a long-boat arrives from 
 Senora w^ith Padre Francisco Maria Piccolo — a missionary 
 among the Tarahumares, who has left his former field of toil, 
 for this new one in California. Padre 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, for the image of " our 
 Lady of Loretto ;" three other structures are raised, one for 
 the Padres, one for the Captain, and one for a magazine ; and 
 
 
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 rf »: 
 
r 
 
 160 
 
 SC K N K K IN 1 M K 4' A C 1 F I C . 
 
 near to these are raise«l the harraeks. The Patlres employ 
 themselves with the Imiians. A small tribe is allowed to take 
 up quarters near the camp. 
 
 The native priests, pereeivin^* by this movement of their 
 people, that their authority is (hniinishing, raise a party to op- 
 pose the Padres. They steal a luntv-boat and break it in pieces ; 
 attack a party in pursuit of them, and are driven from the ground ; 
 repent, and arc again received into favor by the forgiving 
 Padres. Don Pedro (Jil ile la Sierpe sends Papre Salva Tieu- 
 RA a bark called San Fiiniin, 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 161)9, to explore dillerent parts of the country. 
 Padres Salva Tikura and Piccolo visit a place called Londo, 
 eight leagues northward from Loretto. Here is found a 
 populous village and some tillable land. Cut 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, refusing 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 j 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 fme stream running westward into 
 the Pacific i — a beautiful spot among a dreary desolation. 
 

 T R A V i; I, S IN T 11 i: (; A I, I F O R N I A s 
 
 Ifil 
 
 I ) 
 
 which he consecrates to San Kosaha. At San Xavier, durinp^ 
 his a)).sence, tlie Indians and soldiers have built with sun-dried 
 bricks sonic small houses and a chapel. The Indians from San 
 Rosalia are there ; and Padrk Sai.va Tikrua consecrates the 
 Chapcd to San Xavier, with preat devotion and joy. This 
 done, Padre Piccolo is left in charge at San Xavier, and Pa- 
 dre Salva Tierra rctiirns to Loretto. 
 
 The shippin'jj of the mission at this time consists of two ves- 
 sels, the San Finn>ii and San Josef, and the long-boat San 
 Xavier. The number of settlers already in California of Spa- 
 niards, half-l)ree<ls, and Mexican Indians, is six himdred 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 
 converts in the pearl fishery, and thus ruining their health, 
 and the Padre's hope of rearing them for Heaven, has, by his 
 misre[»resentations of these benevolent men, rendered ineffec- 
 tual Padre Ugarte's e/Torts in that quarter. Unfortunately also 
 at this juncture, the two ships of the California missions are 
 cast away ! Nothing is left 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 Padre Sai.va Tierr.v takes the leaky long-boat and 
 goes to the great presiding genius of the missions, Padre Kino, 
 in Senora, for 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 savages. Padre Salva Tierra has reduced the Indians for 
 the space of fifty leagues about Loretto ; founded four towns, 
 in which are six hundred Indian Christians ; two thousand 
 adult Catechumens, besides many children j all of whom are 
 now starving ! 
 
 Padre Kino entered Senora in 1687. He was appointed to 
 H* 
 
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 ■■ \: 
 
 i.b 
 
 \ 
 
162 
 
 S C E X K S IN T n K r A C 1 F I C 
 
 1 I 
 
 jffl' 
 
 the lonely missions in the neighboihood of the Indians in the 
 upper 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 faith. 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 clus- 
 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 ! Padre 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 belfries 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- 
 
n 
 
 TRAVELS IN 
 
 HE CALIFORNIA S 
 
 163 
 
 < I' 
 
 (lians on the waters of the Gila and Colorado in the year 1700. 
 These Paihes have wrought well in the vineyards of the Faith. 
 And they are now met to converse about the fate of these la- 
 bors. They have learned that malice lias destroyed their in- 
 terest in Mexico and Spain. They know that the lives of the 
 garrison at Loretto depend on their sole energy and means. 
 And well would it be for the distressed everywhere if the re- 
 lief which they need were dependent on such hearts and heads 
 as those of the Padres Kino and Salva Tierka. The Indiah 
 farms are laid under contribution, and the keel of genuine 
 mercy is fast cutting its way to Loretto to feed the dying ! 
 Words, wishes, speeches, associations, societies, general and 
 special committee rooms, and new^spapers devoted 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 an 
 odious order, whose name has come to be the common term 
 of the most refined knavery, and even introduced into our 
 lexicons as the appellation for the basest villany, perform acts 
 of the highest virtue, endure hardships of the severest charac- 
 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 
 Cahfoinia ; for if supplies can be sent by land from Padre 
 Kino's mission to Loretto, the expense of shipping to carry 
 them across the Gulf will be avoided, and the certainty of 
 their arrival much increased. Accordingly, it is agreed 
 that Padres Kino and Salva Tierra shall lake differ- 
 ent routes towards the ' Colorado. They determine to 
 visit, on the way. Padre Kino's converts at the several 
 missions in that region, and meet at Mission de Dolores. 
 Accordingly Padre Salva Tierra goes by San Ignacio, 
 
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 1' 
 
 f- 
 
 It 
 
 H 
 
 i- St 
 
164 
 
 S C i: N E S IN T 1! K PACIFIC 
 
 Sjfn Diepo de UtjuUoa, and San Dippo de Pitquin, to 
 river Caborca, and follows its course to Tibutaraa, Axi, 
 Concepcion de Caborca ; while Padrk Kino takes the 
 route by Cocospcra, San Simon and Jude ; strikes the 
 river Caborca and follows its banks through TierraTibutama, 
 and other villages, to the place of rendezvous. Thence the 
 Padres, accompanied by ten soldiers, go northward to San 
 Eduardo de Baissla, San Luis de Bacapa, and thence twelve 
 leagues to San JMarcello. 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 Xavicr 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. T 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, 
 arrive 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 hill 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- 
 
 I! 
 
'k4 
 If 
 
 Ji 
 
 T II A V K I, S I N r II K C A I. I r O U N I A s . 
 
 lt)5 
 
 ing chiirilie.s for California, and with heightened expectations 
 of saving the lives of his friends at Lorelto, ships himself 
 and thern in the old long-Loat San Xavier at the mouth of 
 the river lliaqui, and arrives at Loretlo the latter end of 
 April, 1701. Joy fdls 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 Mnrcello 
 by a new route, and thence onward to the Gila. He fords 
 this river at San Dionysio near its junction with the Colorado j 
 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. Padke 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 the way 
 
 M 
 
166 
 
 S ( K N K S 
 
 T UK V A (• I Kl <• 
 
 and at this place the Indians tiiinii;r the path of this good man, 
 kneeling like chihhcn to a loved grarulsiie for a blessing. 
 In March they advance as far as the village of the Quin- 
 quimas, and name it San Rudcsindo. These Indians show 
 much love towards the Padres, and even towarils the beasts 
 that bear them. The good Padre Gonzales is afl'ected to tears 
 by these <lcmonstrations ; and strips oil' 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. The 
 pains incident to the separation of the living principle from 
 the body, are like brambles which one passes to fields of 
 flowers and fiuits, 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 Tibutama. 
 The years 1703, 1704, and 1705, Padue Kino spends in 
 building up the missions of Pimeria, and in resisting the per- 
 secution raised against him because he will not permit the 
 
T 
 
 I fj 
 
 T n A V K I. 5 IN T II i; (• A I. I I o U N I A S 
 
 107 
 
 owners of the mines and plimtulloris to L'lislave lils converts. 
 Ilavinf no one to assist iiiin in so \vi»U; a province, \n: is al- 
 most constantly travelling from oim mission to another, ex- 
 horting, encourai^inr^, disciplining, anil protecting his spiritual 
 children. These duties task severely the tottering strength of 
 the good old man. But he labors without intermission or 
 discouragement, as he ripens lor his reward. Nor iioes his 
 ardent interest in the Californian missions ahate. Every few 
 months he forwards to Lorelto his largesses of provisions and 
 animals. But as the expense of sujjporting shipping for that 
 purpose becomes more and more ap[)arent 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 olTicers of Senora, and the Franciscan 
 monk, Manuel de Ojuela. This last expedition of Padke 
 Kino 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 against the 
 avarice and cruelty of the miners, and the civil and military 
 powers, till 1710, 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. 
 Padre Kino has given his best energies to the Pimerian and 
 Californian missions. The poor Indians on both sides of the 
 Gulf have been accustomed to cat 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. 
 
 t!l 
 
 A 
 
 f « 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 !l! 
 
 Meeting of PAmiKs Salva Tikhra and Ugarte— A Plot— Burning of San 
 Xavier — Ugarte at San Xuvicr— Famine — A Runaway — A Murder — 
 A Campaign — Rejoicings— A Tempest — An Arrival o!' Food and Sol- 
 diers — MeaMires for the Advaneementof the Conquest— Exploration of 
 the Interior— Sacking of San Xavier — Massaeres — A Court Martial— 
 An Execution — Peace — E.tnedition to the iNv nh — Distress— A Council, 
 and its Results — Endu- ince — Roaming and Starving— An Attack — 
 Saia'a TiERRA leaves Califurnia — His Return — Extension of the Con- 
 <iuest — Ligui, and a great Example — A Chastisement — A murderous 
 Attempt — Mulege — Cada Kaaman — The Triumph of the Good — Poi- 
 son — Dealli. 
 
 DuuiXG tlie absence of Papre Salva Tii:i{RA in Pimeria, 
 Padre Uf^arte h:is arrived at Loretto with a few supplies. 
 The meeting of these two men in that distant hind 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 Guatlalaxara to procure 
 the means to support the other, while breaking up the ground 
 and casting in the seed. And v.'ht-n all his etlorts 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 Iiis 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 renden d to God for the ffivor 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 
 make farther trial to obtain funds for that purpose. He ac- 
 cordingly puts to sea, but is drivenlDack by a tempest; and 
 again he leaves the hai-bor, but is again con>pelled to return. 
 
IF 
 
 TRAVELS IN THE CALIF0RMA8 
 
 169 
 
 These unfavorable trials induce him to postpone his voyage 
 to a more favorable seaTOn. He returas, therefore, to his 
 mission at San Xavier, and Padre Ugarte remains at Loretto 
 with Padre Salva Tierra, 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 affairs among them, and give iiope of 
 better things. The military commandant, who has, by his 
 misrepresentations, rendered abortive the efforts cf Padre 
 Ugarte, at Mexico, finds that the authorities will not relieve 
 him from subordination to the Padres, and resigns. Captain 
 Don Antonio 'H.^rcia de Mendoza is therefore succeeded by one 
 Isadore de Figueroa. This man, however, proves unworthy 
 of his trust in a difficulty 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, arc 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 roldiers to chastise them and recover tht: mission. 
 Accordingly he marches his troops to San Xavier. The In- 
 dians flee before hiro. The soldiers desire to pursue them. 
 But the con.mander forbids it ; and otherwise shows such a 
 want of courage and mai»lintss> that the soldiers depose him, 
 and elect in his stead, Don Estevan Rodriguez Lorenzo, 
 who leads them in pursuit among the breaks of the moun- 
 tains ; fcut 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 
 15 
 
 
 4 
 
 I? 
 
170 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC 
 
 mission and put it under his charge. Accordingly he leaves 
 Loretto for that purpose. But on arriving there, the Indians, 
 through fear of the soldiers that accompany hiin, run into the 
 mountains. The Padre, nowise discouraged by th:s circum- 
 stance, takes up his quarters on the site of the burned 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 remaias 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 life. Night comes on and passes 
 away ; and he is yet alone. At daylight a little Indian lad 
 comes 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 energies 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 them. He is overseer' brick- 
 layer and filmier. 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- 
 
I 
 
 TRAVELS IN TITE CALIFORNIA S. 
 
 171 
 
 t'lmof? spading up the ground, sometimes splitting rock with 
 a crowbar, sometimes turning water into the trenches, and 
 at others leading the beasts and cattle, which he has procured 
 for his mission, to pasture and to water. By his own ex- 
 ample he teaches them to throw off their natural sloth, to feed 
 themselves and live like rational beings. But this great ex- 
 ample does not suffice to wean them from a love of the woods, 
 and a listless and starving inaction. A thousand times they 
 trj his patience, by coming late to mass and to work, and by 
 running away and jeering him, and vSomelimes threatening and 
 forming combinations to take his life. All this the old man 
 bears .vith unwearied patience, kindness, and holy fortitude. 
 In the evening the Padre leads them again to their devotions. 
 At this time the rosary is prayed over, and the catechism ex- 
 plained J 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 hira 
 during service, and mocks at all that he does. The other In- 
 diaas, regarding bodily strength as the only quality of great- 
 ness, are vastly pleased that their champion seems the superior 
 of the Padre. Ugarte perceives by their bearing, that he is 
 losing their confidence. He therefore seizes the savage, ia 
 the mi(iSt of his profanity, by the hair of his head, and swings 
 him to and fro, with determine ' violence, tUl 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, cartful 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- 
 
 I fl 
 
 • til 
 
 \ 
 
 r 
 
 (I 
 
 i K 
 
 * 
 
172 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC 
 
 trines of the Catholic Church, iirired to patient labor, and 
 residing in comfortable houses, ile has turned the mountain 
 streams along the crags, and changed the barren dust of the 
 mountains into cultivated fields, burdened with harvests of 
 wheat, maize, and other grains. He even makes generous 
 wines, sufficient to supply the missions in California, and an 
 overplus to exchange in Mexico for other goods. He like- 
 wise breeds horses and sheep, cattle and mules. Indeed, such 
 is the success of Padre Ugarte's fortitude and industry, that 
 in 1707 he becomes the Purveyor-General of the missions, 
 and relieves them by the produce of his converts' labor, from 
 some of the fears of starvation on that desolate coast. 
 
 Thus has this excellent man, in the course of seven years, 
 opened, by his individual influence on the Californian Indians, 
 a large plantation, the products of which, in favorable seasons, 
 feed thousands of savages and seven hundred whites. His 
 efforts now take another direction. His sheep, brought origi- 
 ^lally 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, whicti can never be dimmed. How it 
 beams on the robes of the good man as he steps intn hla 
 grave ! How it glistens in the tear of silent gratitude ♦'at is 
 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIAS 
 
 173 
 
 \ ) 
 
 shetl over the tomb of the dead, as ages crumble it into dust ! 
 How rich a halo does it throw back on all after time, a rem- 
 nant light of Bethlehem's holy star, to lead the living to the 
 same happy use of their 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 
 TiERRA and Piccolo. Near the end of the year 1701, the pro- 
 visions which Padre Kino has sent to Loretto, are exhausted, 
 and Padre Piccolo's departure to Mexico for a supply is has- 
 tened. He sails on the second of December, leaving the Pa- 
 dres, the garrison and Indians in absolute want. For sixty days 
 they subsist on roots, wild fruits, and a few fish which they 
 find washed up on the shore. 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 
 Padre Salva Tierra, lasts but a short time ; and want returns 
 upon them with all its horrors. At length the last tilthy piece 
 of laoat is consumed, and they betake themselves, Indians and 
 P ivlrcs 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 convcrtn. 
 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 unperceived, and run to the mountains. The 
 next morning the soHier pursues them a limited distant t, but 
 returns imsuccessful. A day or two afterwards, he goes with 
 a Califorman 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- 
 danjrered by proceeding: The soldier insults the cM man and 
 shoots him. The noise ^f the discharged musket rouses the 
 village, and the soldier dues, pterced with arrows. His Indian 
 15^ 
 
 W 
 
 rl 
 
174 
 
 SCENES IX THE PACIFIC. 
 
 companion is wounded, but brings to Loretto information of 
 this misfortune. 
 
 The Padres of San Xa\'ier 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 Vebmary, 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 
 anothrr ; and from the Government, six hundre(f dollars per 
 annum thereafter ; has secured the ap{K)intment of two Padres, 
 Juan Manuel de Bassaldua and Geronimo Minutili, as mis- 
 
'- 1 
 
 TRAVELS I .N THE C A LI F R N I A 9 
 
 175 
 
 
 sionaries to California ; and has purchased a vessel at Aca- 
 pulco, called Nuestra Scnora del Rtjsario ; has embarked at 
 Matanchel with his goods, provisions, his brethren, and some 
 artisans, for Loretto. 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 twenty-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 Padies, 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 Tierra 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, an<l horses and mules for draught and rid- 
 ing ; that Padre Minutili shall remain at Loretto with Padre 
 Salva Tierra; and that Padre Bassaldua Jiall accompany 
 Padre Piccolo to San Xavier, where he may learn the Indian 
 language, and otherwise 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 ba-ik 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, Padre Salva Tierra re-commences 
 
 '♦• I 
 
 "lU 
 
176 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 :1 
 
 txploring the country. He takes with him the Captain ami 
 some soldiers, ami proceeds to San Xavier, where he is joined 
 by Padres Piccolo and 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 few Indians who, after run- 
 ning away, are persuaded to show themselves friends. On 
 their return these "Padres pass two rancherias, the inhabitants 
 of which they induce to move nearer to I oretto. 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 01 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 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIF0RNIA8. 
 
 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 rough- 
 ness of the country prevents pursuit. 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-martial 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 miu^der of Poblano ; that 
 he has been inducing the Indian women to marry the soldiers, 
 in order to have more killed in the same manner ; and the 
 Captain will not release him from the punishment which he 
 deser\'es 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 J 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 an J 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 fmd 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 
 ■wherewith 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» 
 
 M 
 
 !i' 
 
 
 ^^ 
 
17S 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC 
 
 embark for Loretto in the San Xavier. On their way, they 
 put into Concepcion Bay which lies south of the opposing 
 Mountains ; send the bark to Guaymas for supplies ; go by 
 land along a path partially cleared by the preceding expedi- 
 tion ; arrive fit a valley which they call San Juan de I^ndo, 
 where they meet Padre Salva Tikrra ; and thence pro- 
 ceed in great haste to Loretto. 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 whole 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, th the arrival of 
 Padre Piccolo from Senora, with the bark partiaJly 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 
 sufferings 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 R A V E I, S f X THE C A L I F R N I A S 
 
 179 
 
 productive, and the manufiicture of cloth is considerably ad- 
 vanced. Their attendance on the ordinances of relij^ion 
 f^ratifies the Padres, and civilisation seems to be talcing root 
 among these savages. But as the converts increase, the n»im- 
 ber of persons to be fed and clad are inidtiplied. And as the 
 necessities of these grow, the hopes of a proper supply be- 
 come more precarious. The vessel in which grains are to be 
 brought from the opposite coast requires overhauling before 
 she can put to sea. Without her the money for the pay- 
 ment of the garrison cannot be obtained from Mexico. But 
 as the Padres have no means of repairing her, Padre Bassal- 
 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 bark 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 Padre Bassaldua arrives on the coast of Mexico with 
 his creaking, leaky vessel ; proceeds to Guadalaxara and Mexi- 
 Cf • urges th*' execution of the Royal Orders for the support 
 of u»e missions ; 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 J me rounds into the bay of Loretto, 
 to add to the number of the desponding and starnng ! 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 |)ut back empty. And 
 when at last they succeed in making the voyage, little reUef 
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 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 among the Padres and soldiers. The latter complain that 
 their certificates of services sent to Mexico have not been 
 honored ; and the former see that some decided step must be 
 taken either for the salvation or abandonment of the missions. 
 Padre 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 aflFaira 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 there, 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 country. 
 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 shall be 
 given them for the arrears of their wages. But instead 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 removed, 
 the Padres dispatch the vessel and the bark to Guaymas for 
 supplies. %Vhile they are waitii g 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. 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CAHF0RNIA8 
 
 181 
 
 
 
 The Padres do not abandon their determination to found 
 the other missions, for which funds ha\re been promised. 
 With this design in view, and ako to bring new matters of 
 interest to the minds of the distressed people. Padres Salva 
 TiERRA and Pedro Ugarte vi^lt 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 Padre Salva Tierra. 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 Tierra, 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 haj^y 
 event, follows another, which causes much grief to the Padres 
 and the Indians. Padre Salva Tierra 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. 6efor« he departs, he consecrates the new 
 16 
 
 M t 
 
1S2 
 
 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 Cahfornian 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 Padre Juan 
 Maria de Salva Tierra, 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 Viceroy, 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 the Spanish power in America and 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CAL IFOR N IAS, 
 
 183 
 
 
 elsewhere press on the track of the good Padre, and he is 
 forced to leave Mexico on a visit to the churcheS* of his Dio- 
 cese, without any decided assurances that his views will be 
 acted on. The poverty of the Crown, while half the world is 
 digging gold and silver for its coffers, is an additional cause of 
 this inaction. 
 
 We next find Padre Salva Tierra, in 1705, appealing to 
 the Jesuit College and the Audiencia of Guadalaxara, to suc- 
 cor the missions. Soon after this he lands at El Mission del 
 Nuestra Senora de Loretto, amid the general joy of the Pa- 
 dres, soldiers and Indians. To the latter, particularly, he has 
 been a father ; and they dance and shout around him in an 
 ecstacy of gladness to see again his grey head and benevo- 
 lent face. 
 
 The Padre finds his brethren in great wretchedness, but full 
 of unwavering determination to carry forward the work which 
 he has so valorously begun. Padre Piccolo, who has been ap- 
 pointed visitor of the missions of Senora, in order that he may 
 have authority and opportunity to draw provisions more regu- 
 larly for those of California, has been forwarding at intervals 
 whatever he could gather from those poor establishments. 
 But this has been sufficient only to prevent starvation or the 
 abandonment of the country. However, the missions still 
 exist, and the venerable Padre Salva Tiisrra 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, and abusive to the In- 
 dians and soldiers. An account of this state of things having 
 been forwarded during the Padre'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. He bends all 
 his energies to the well-being of the natives ; takes measures 
 
184 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 for the establishment of two new missions ; the one at Ligui 
 and the other at the river Mulege. The small number of his 
 associates, however, is an obstacle to the accomplishment of 
 his v'ishes. 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, 
 disburse 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 Pa- 
 dre Salva TiERRA, 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 Mulege ; 
 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 constmction 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 attaches 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 
 
 V 
 
 h 
 t'l 
 
TRAVELS IN THE C.VI, IFORNIAS 
 
 185 
 
 patience, fir..incss and labor, does he bring the mission of San 
 Juan Baptista into form, and its Indians under his control 
 And not these only ; but going many miles into the woods 
 and the breaches of the mountains, he gathers in the wan- 
 dering, feeds and clothes them, and teaches them to till the 
 ground and live like men. At last he succeeds in humaniz- 
 ing the greater portion of these rude people. They call him 
 Padre, follow him to the labor of the field, and gather about 
 the altar in his humble church to worship. All are industri- 
 ous, well-fed, well-clad, and happy. 
 
 As the Padre, 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 their sanction to the jug- 
 gler, dismisses them with much indignation. This severity of 
 the Padre routes the sullen fierceness of the Indians to such 
 extent thpt, 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 
 16* 
 
 r i 
 
 ■ I ■ 
 
 II 
 
 k- 
 
 I 
 
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 sav£^ges find it difficult to 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIAS 
 
 187 
 
 111 
 
 discover in his successor, the excellent Padre Piccolo, his 
 equal in kindness and active benevolence. "* 
 
 Padre Piccolo exerts in this new field all his well-tried en- 
 ergies. Besides his labors as a spiritual teacher, he travels 
 into the interior several times in search of proper sites for 
 new settlements, and discovers those places which are after- 
 wards occupied by the missions of Guadaloupe, La Purissima 
 Concepcion, and San Ignacio. In the year 1718 he surren- 
 ders his charge to Padre Sebastian de Sistiaga. This Padre 
 digs trenches to convey the waters of the river over the 
 fields, and in other ways improves the facilities for training 
 those active and intelligent children of the desert to the habits 
 of a better life. 
 
 On the sixth of November, 1706, Padre Piccolo, three sol- 
 diers, and some Mulege Indians, with two asses hearing their 
 provisions, journey westward towards the country of the North 
 Cochimes, which is called Cada Kaaman, or Sedge Brook. 
 It lies on the skirts of the mountains, thirty-five leagues, by 
 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 again, 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 nineteenth of Novem- 
 ber he arrives at the head springs of the brook which waters 
 the vale. Here he finds three considerable neighborhoods of 
 savages, who welcome his coming with feastings, dances, and 
 songs, in which those from Santa Lucia and Santa Nympha 
 join with exceeding delight. He remains at this place until 
 December, comforting and teaching them. A large arbor is 
 built by the willing Indians, in which mass is celebrated. The 
 neighboring villagers forsake their homes to attend upon the 
 Padre's instructions. Fifty mothers eagerly offer their child- 
 ren in baptism. And now he departs, followed by a large 
 crowd of people, who mourn that he leaves them j and pre- 
 
188 
 
 SCENES IX THE PA CI TIC. 
 
 ceded by others who shout their gladness amonj^ tlie 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 j and bring him water from 
 the stream to drink. 
 
 While these new missions are in progress, the old ones, at 
 Loretto, San Xavier, and Londo, are slowly advancing in com- 
 fort and usefulness. Nor are the Padres in charge of them 
 idle in making explorations for other establishments. 
 
 In 1706 Jayme 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 ! Jayme Bravo 
 and the Captain return, and find that one of them has found 
 a fire where some Indian fishermen have been roasting a spe- 
 cies of fish called Botates, the liver of which contains a very 
 active poison. This soldier communicates the news of food 
 at hand to his fellows, and they hasten to devour it. A 
 friendly Indian warns them not to eat. But the soldier who 
 first discovered the fire replying, " None of your noise, Indian ; 
 a Spaniard never dies," eats plentifully and gives to his com- 
 panions. One of them chews and swallows a little ; another 
 chews, but does not swallow ; the other merely handles and 
 views the fish. Well would it have been if they had regarded 
 the caution of the Indian : for in a very short time they are 
 all seized with convulsive pains more or less violent, accord- 
 ing to the use they have made of the fish. The first expires 
 in half an hour. He is soon followed by the second ! The 
 third, who merely chewed the fish, remains insensible till the 
 following morning ! The man who only handled them is 
 in a very bad condition for several days. This misfortune 
 obliges the explorers to abandon their enteiprise. They re- 
 turn to Ligui to bury the dead in the consecrated grounds of 
 the mission, and send their sick to Loretto. 
 
I 
 
 4 
 
 • ) 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Padre Juan Ugarte and Jayme Bravo explore the Pacific Coast— Dearth 
 — Thirst — PADnG SAr.vA Tierua— A Tempest — Landing at Loretto — 
 San Josef— Wrecked— Padre Salva Tierra goes to the Rescue — Eln- 
 ergy — Suffering — Die by Thousands! — Wrecked — At Sea in a Long- 
 boat — The Limit of Despair — Tliey toil on — The Guaycuros— Massa- 
 cre— San Ignacio— Padre Salva Tiebra leaves California — Death of a 
 Hero at Guadalaxara. 
 
 Meantime Padre Juan Ugarte prepares to reconnoitre the 
 coast of the Pacific. The chief of the Yaqui nation waits on 
 him with forty of his warriors. The Captain, with twelve sol- 
 diers and some converts, is at his command for the same duty ; 
 the beasts and provisions for the journey are ready ; and Padre 
 Juan Ugarte and the layman Bravo, on the twenty-sixth of 
 November, 1706, leave Loretto, with their troops and pack 
 animals dividetl into three companies, on their wearisome way 
 over the western mountains. Their march lies through the 
 Mission of San Xavier and the Indian village called Santa 
 Rosalia, and from that point passes over the dry and herb- 
 less waste of heights and vales to the sea. Here they meet 
 several hundred Guaycuros, who are friendly to them. Thence 
 they march southward many leagues, and find no water in all 
 the distance except in little wells dug by the Indians. They 
 then turn their course to the north. They march all day over 
 burning sands, famishing with thirst, and halt at night near the 
 channel of a dry rivulet. Thence they send men a few leagues 
 farther up the shore, and others up and down the thirsty 
 channel, in quest of water. They all return to camp with- 
 out success. Next they disperse themselves in every direc- 
 tion to find a plat of low ground where they may dig wells, 
 but find none. As a last resource, they now let loose their 
 
190 
 
 SCENES IN T 11 K P A C I I' I C 
 
 animals, that they may, by their powerful instincts, find means 
 of quenching their thirst j but all these contrivances are vain. 
 They kindle a fire to keep themselves warm, and, weary and 
 faniishing, stretch themselves on the sand for the night. 
 
 In the morning Patlre Ugarte greets the rising sun with the 
 services of Mass ; and while they sing the " Litany de Seno- 
 ra de Loretto," an Indian calls out in the language of his 
 people that he has found water ! With solemn gratitude they 
 dig into the oozing soil ; they obtain a supply for themselves 
 and their animals ; and having filled several vessels to serve 
 them on their return, offer a service of thanksgiving to the 
 Virgin, and commence their journey to Loretto. 
 
 While the Padres are thus employed in establishing mis- 
 sions and exploring California, Padue Salva Tierra is ear- 
 nestly petitioning the Pope to discharge him from the office of 
 Provincial Bishop of New Spain. He desires to spend his 
 declining years among the Indians of California. In 1706 
 his discharge comes ; and with inexpressible pleasure does 
 the good old man collect supplies of clothing, provisions 
 and ammunition, for the mission. He is joined by two other 
 Padres, Julian de Mayorga and Rolandegui. To their 
 care he commits the stores, with directions to repair to the har- 
 bor of Matanchel and await the arrival of the bark which is 
 to take them to the peninsula. The Padre himself goes by 
 land four hundred leagues along the coast to the harbor of 
 Akomi in Senora, for the purpose of collecting free contribu- 
 tions from the missions in the regions through which he jour- 
 neys. 
 
 About the first of January he sails for Loretto. He has a 
 long tempestuous voyage. "This night," says he, "the 
 thirty-first of January, was extremely dark. We were with 
 the mast lashed, and without a rudder ; and amidst rocks and 
 islands ; the sea continually making a free passage over us ; 
 the sailors spent with toil and hunger, having been without 
 food for a day and a half, were prostrate, giving up all for 
 lost. The least damage we could expect was to be driven 
 
 ml 
 
 j>:^S 
 
) 
 
 T R A V i: I, S IN THE C A L t F R N I A S 
 
 191 
 
 into the sou of Gallicia or Acapulco. * Tnstisnma noctis 
 imagoJ* The Californians got about me like chickens, and 
 they were not my least confulants, as being new-born sons of 
 the Great Madonna, and had run this risk in her service. Af- 
 ter all my journeyings and voyages, I never knew what dan- 
 gers or distresses by land or sea were, until now." They are 
 driven by this horrible tempest into the bay of San Josef, thirty 
 miles south of Loretto. On the third of February, the storm 
 abating, they run up to tlie desired haven, and are received 
 with universal gladness. 
 
 In 1708, Padres Salva Tierra and Juan Ugarte go with 
 Padre Mayorga into the midst of the mountains to an Indian 
 settlement called Comondu, and invest him \olh a mission 
 there under the name of San Josef; and after having aided 
 him in gathering the Indians, building a chapel, and some 
 bough huts, they return to Loretto. Padre Mayorga forms 
 some neighboring Indians into two towns which he calls San 
 Juan and San Ignacio ; builds a fine church at the former 
 place J opens a school for boys at his own house ; erects a 
 seminary for girls ; builds a hospital for the sick ; prepares 
 maize fields at San Josef, and plants vineyards at San Juan 
 and San Ignacio. 
 
 Many other fertile spots are discovered among the deserts 
 of California, soon after Salva Tierra's arrival, suitable for 
 the establishment of missions. But misfortunes by sea and 
 land retard their occupancy. The following is an instance of 
 this kind. The bark San Xavier sails from Loretto in August, 
 1709, with $3,000 in specie, to purchase a supply of pro- 
 visions in Senora. A storm of three days' continuance drives 
 it on a barren coast, north of Guaymas, where it is stranded 
 among the sands and rocks. Some are drowned ; others save 
 themselves in the boat. Hostile Indians, called Seris and 
 Tepocas, fall upon those who escape and drive them to sea in 
 the open boat ; dig up the $3,000 which they have hidden in 
 the sands ; take the helm from the bark, and partly break it 
 in pieces for the nails. The crew in the boat encounter very 
 
 I 
 
192 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC 
 
 many clangers in their perilous voyage to the south. Storms 
 overtake them. Their boat becomes leaky. They have no 
 water. They ^ive, however, to reach the river Yaqui, sixty 
 leagues from the wreck. From this place a pearl-fisher's 
 bark is sent to Loretto with an account of these disasters : 
 Padre Salva Tierra hastens over in the Rosalia to Guaymas ; 
 sends her to a port near the scene of the shipwreck ; dis- 
 patches the bark San Xavier to the vessel, while he himself, 
 attended by fourteen Yaqui Indians, passes up the rugged 
 coast by land j is two days without a drop of water ; and at 
 last arrives at the wreck. The San Xavier's men are merely 
 sustaining life on boiled herbs. He sends to the nearest mis- 
 sion for food by an Indian, who succeeds in passing through 
 the hostile Seris and Tepocas, with a small supply. This 
 does not suffice. Death is near them, when the indefatigable 
 Padre determines to journey through bands of mwderous sav- 
 ages to the harbor of San Juan Baptista for help ! 
 
 He has not travelled far along the coast when he arrives at 
 a settlement of Indians, who come out against him under arms. 
 They are led by an old man, who urges them on with terrible 
 vociferations. Nothing less fearful than death seems promised 
 in their present situation. But the Padre, with his usual in- 
 trepidity, advancing alone towards them, makes some small 
 presents to the old man and his son, which, accompanied by 
 signs and kind gestures, soften their ferocity a little, vhen to 
 their surprise and joy they hear the guns of the Rosalia ! The 
 explosion of these cannon is new to the Indians— they 
 think it the voice of avenging gods — they immediately run 
 away and bring to the Padue food, and $3,000 which had 
 been taken from its place near the wreck. The Padre thus 
 imexpectedly recovers his lost money, and the means of con- 
 tinuing the lives of himself and men. 
 
 The Rosalia anchors near the disabled San Xavier ; and 
 the provisions on board for a time relieve the distressed work- 
 men, seamen and Padres. But as two months are consumed 
 in refitting the wreck, they are again often in want. The 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIAS 
 
 193 
 
 !l 
 
 missions of the region afford them occasional aid ; but the 
 dearth which has pervaded the country during thiryear, so far 
 disables these establishments from furnishing adequate supplies, 
 that Padre Salva Tierra sends a messenger to the distant 
 mission garrison, ninety miles up the country, called Nuestra 
 Sennora do Gaudalupe, begging the Captain Don Francisco 
 Xavier Valenzuela to send them food. This excellent man 
 immediately despatches what succors he can command ; and 
 soon aftei* comes in person with some of his men and a more 
 liberal supply. 
 
 When he arrives, such is the distressed condition of the 
 Padre and those with him, that this commander and his vete- 
 rans seat themselves on the beach and weep. After a con- 
 tinual repetition of trials like these, during two sultry months, 
 the San Xavier is afloat, and the brave Padre sails his vessel 
 to the Californian coast ; visits the Padre Piccolo at Santa 
 Rosalia Mjpfge, a^ encouraging that lonely priest in the 
 prosecutioPof his Iroly labors, diops down to Loretto. Soon 
 after his arrival the small pox, that exterminator of the In- 
 dian race, sweeps away the greater part of the children and 
 many adults, in all the missions. The garrison also suffers 
 very much from irregularity of diet consequent upon the pre- 
 carious means of supply, and the necessity of living in that 
 sultry climate, on salt meat and maize. All these sicknesses 
 and deaths the Indians attribute to the Padres. Their children, 
 say they, are killed by baptism ; the adults with the extreme 
 imction ; and the soldiers are made sick by continual expo- 
 siu-e to the malign influence of prayers, masses and the exalt- 
 ation of the Host. These suggestions are raised by their old 
 sorcerers, and threaten to embitter the Indians fatally against 
 the Padres. But the neophytes stand by their Priests, and 
 convince their countrymen of their error. 
 
 From 1709 to 1711, a famine spreads over the entire Mexi- 
 can Territories, and California consequently obtains no sup- 
 plies from that source. The distress of these years is so ex- 
 ceedingly great, that the Indian neophytes betake themselves 
 17 
 
 I 
 
 ^k 
 
194 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC 
 
 to the mountains, and live on roots and "wild fruits ; while the 
 soldiers of the garrison eat herbs with the self-denying Padres : 
 and to complete the misfortunes of this devoted country, two 
 barks used in bringing a little food from Senora, are cast 
 away. 
 
 In 1711, Padre Salva Tierra sends Padre Francisco Peralta, 
 who arrived in California two years before, to Matauchel to 
 repair the old Rosario. But the frauds practised by the work- 
 men consume many thousands of dollars, and make the bark 
 so miserable a thing, that in its first effort at sailing it runs 
 ashore in spite of the helm, and is utterly lost. They now 
 build a new one, at an expense of $22,000. In this, then, 
 laden with supplies, they put to sea. But a storm rising, the 
 ill-built craft proves to be unmanageable, the sport of the 
 waves and winds. She is driven to Cape San Lucas and 
 back again to the isles of Mazatlan. Here some of the sailors 
 forsake her; others remain onboard, ai^ after a^|iiy difficul- 
 ties, take her in sight of the coast of Loretto. A storm now 
 drives her ashore on the opposite coast. It is the eighth of 
 December. The night is terribly dark and tempestuous. 
 Four seamen clear away the small boat, and regardless of the 
 lives of the others, shove off. Those who are left hang to 
 the main and mizen masts surging in the seas ! Padre Bensto 
 Guisi and six seamen are drowned. Padres Guillen and 
 Doye, and twenty others, with the greatest difficulty, un- 
 lash the long-boat, bail out the water with two calabashes, 
 and throwing aboard a piece of an old sail and some bits of 
 boards for oars, commit themselves to the mercy of the waves. 
 In the morning they find themselves several leagues from land. 
 They row down the coast a day and a half, and after a bois- 
 terous night land three hundred miles south of Guaymas. 
 Eighteen persons, naked, wet, pierced with cold, exhausted 
 with rowing, withoilt food or water, with the single comfort 
 of having escaped death in the sea, land on a barren waste 
 interspersed with fertile tracts overrun with briars and bram- 
 bles. They gather oysters, wilks and herbs to eat, and 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIAS 
 
 195 
 
 march into the interior to find inhabitants. As they break 
 their way, the brambles and briars lacerate theiwaaked bodies. 
 Two days of agony from this cause and from hunger and 
 thirst, bring them into an open plain, where they are found by 
 Indians. These they induce to give information of their pre- 
 sence and sufferings, to the commander of the town Tamasula, 
 who visits them with horses, water and maize cakes, for their 
 relief. 
 
 From this town they go to Guazave, the nearest mission in 
 Cinaloa, where they fortunately find Padre Francisco Maza- 
 regos. This Jesuit Missionary entertains them in the most 
 liberal manner. The briars of the rugged path over which 
 they travelled, have torn their clothing from their backs; 
 and this holy man calls upon his Indian converts to contribute 
 of their means, while he himself bestows his own wardrobe, 
 to clothe the naked sufferers. 
 
 Having been refreshed by rest and food, and once more 
 clad, they leave the hospitable Padre of Guazave for the town 
 of Cinaloa. Here also they are generously entertained by 
 Padre Juan Yrazoqui, until each departs to his appointed sta- 
 tion. Padre Guillen is roused instead of discouraged, by 
 these hardships. Like all those great spirits who are sowing 
 the gospel on the deserts of California, his sinews become the 
 stronger as they are worn by hardship. He travels over the 
 deserts to the missions at Yaqui, and in the month of January, 
 1714, sails to California in the good old San Xavier. 
 
 The missions are again entirely dependent upon this bark 
 for the transport of supplies; the loss in New Rosario, of 
 the commodities and clothing, on which the Padres, seamen, 
 and soldiers depend to sustain life, no money left, no clothing, 
 no food, the only sea-craft in their possession unseaworthy, 
 and no means of repairing her, on a desert land and among 
 hostile Indians kept in subjection chiefly by the supply of 
 their physical v/ants, now im^ jssible to be done, are the dis- 
 couraging circumstances which weigh on the heavy hearts of 
 the Padres. But who shall set bounds to the power of moral 
 
 I- 
 
 I 
 
196 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 motive, when linked with zeal drawn from faith in God 1 
 These Padres look for death, but they desire to die, sickle in 
 hand, reaping the harvests of redemption! They toil onj 
 they gather wandering Indians into towns; instruct them, 
 thirsting and starving a part of each day, and spending the 
 remainder among the mountains and forests, gathering here 
 and there a dried root, or a bunch of wild fruit, to eat. 
 
 Padre Ugarte is even not content with these labors, but 
 makes exploring tours among the Indian settlements south of 
 San Xavier. Wherever he goes they throng his way, ask for 
 the baptism of their children and the establishment of missions 
 among them. It is 1712, and Padre Piccolo, though in bad 
 health, imitates the zeal of Padre Ugarte. With the Captain, 
 a few soldiers and Indians, he travels westward from Santa 
 Kosalia Mulege, crosses the mountains of Vajademin, finds 
 beyond them a small clear brook ; follows it to the sea, ex- 
 amines the barren coast about its mouth, ascends a little 
 stream about twenty miles j erects a cross and devotes the 
 neighboring grounds to a contemplated mission. W^hile he 
 remains here many hundred Indians come in from the neigh- 
 boring settlements, beseeching the Padre to remain with them, 
 and as an inducement to do so, promise to give him their best 
 wild fruits and feathers, and devote their children to the 
 Catholic faith. He agrees to send them a Padre to instruct 
 them more fully in religion, and returns to his station. 
 
 The vessels used by the people of the opposite coast in 
 fishing for pearls bring a scanty supply of provisions. The 
 Padre and people clothe themselves in the skins of wild 
 beasts, and continue their labors. In the year 1716, Padre 
 Salva Tiekra sails south in a brigantine called Guadalupe, 
 to la Paz, in order to make peace with the Guaycuros, who 
 still retain an unfavorable remembrance of Admiral Otondo's 
 ill-advised conduct, and the constantly repeated injuries of the 
 pearl fishermen. He is accompanied by three Guaycuri 
 prisoners taken from the pearl fishers, whom he is carry- 
 ing back to their homes. 
 
 I I J 
 
TRAVELS IN THE C A L I F K N I A S 
 
 197 
 
 A ) 
 
 When he enters La Paz bay the Loretto Indians leap over- 
 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 flight. They flee, leaving their wives 
 and children to follow after at a slower pace. The Loretto 
 Indians do not regard the orders of Padke Salva Tieera ; 
 Ijut led by savage impulse, fall upon the hapless women and 
 children. These attempt to defend themselves with stones. 
 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 Padre 
 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 pearlfishers' 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 Guaycm-os 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- 
 cio in the Cada Kaaman, or the vale of the Sedge Brook. 
 
 17* 
 
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 shipwreck 
 and tempests, by progresses over mountains and deserts, by 
 hunger and thirst, by arrows and Indian 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 heart. 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 
 Purissima, 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 instructions rela- 
 tive to advancing most efficiently the spiritual conquest of 
 California, together with a summons that Padre Salva Tiebra 
 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 committed 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 Padre suffers greatly at 
 every misstep of his animal; they arrive at Tepic; the Pa- 
 dre is in extreme torture ; but tortures cannot deter him from 
 his holy labors ; he is too weak and ^oo much racked with 
 pain to mount a horse or mule, and is therefore borne in a 
 litter on the shoulders of Indians, to Guadalaxara. Here his 
 illness increases so that he can proceed no farther. He is 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIAS 
 
 199 
 
 lodged in the college of Jesuits. The Padres are in attend- 
 ance upon him. Two months of agony wear toward a close ; 
 and death begins to chill his 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 hai? crushed the hearts of 
 men, yoked them in bondage, and severed every tendril of 
 mercy and justice from the governing powers ; not such a 
 hero as men will worship; but a great 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 of unthinking and uninstructed hu- 
 man nature ; a missionary of a Californian wilderness ! 
 All the people of the city and neighboring villages crowd to 
 the 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 Tiekra. 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 thousands 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 Cali- 
 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 Tierra. But his remembrance 
 is written in the imperishable record of those great minds 
 
 i'l 
 
 * 
 
200 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC 
 
 who have conquered nations with the sabre of truth, and led 
 them to a more intelligent and happy condition. 
 
 Jayme Bravo, after the burial of Padre Salva Tierra, pro- 
 ceeds to Mexico, lays the condition 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 sailors. 
 While these things are transpiring in Mexico, a terrible hur- 
 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 to the tempest for twenty-four hours. At San 
 Xavier, the channels used for irrigating the lands are filled 
 with stones, and the water thrown in torrents over the fields. 
 Both soil and sprouting crops are carried away. The 
 same misfortune occurs at Mulege. The blasts of the tem- 
 pests are so terrific at the garrison, that a Spanish boy named 
 Matheo, is taken up in one of their gyrations and never seen 
 more ! Tornadoes of this kind are frequent in California. 
 But the Padres have seen none equal to this for violence and 
 continuance. What little soil has been found in the country 
 has been dislodged and swept into the sea j the country 
 is laid waste ; its rocks are bare j its plains and vales are cov- 
 ered with heaps of stones. 
 
 \ • 
 
\l^ 
 
 
 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— Burning 
 of Idols— A Famine — Locusts — A Pestilence — The Dying— Explo- 
 rations by Land and Sea — Indian Country — Dreadful Sufferings — 
 Tempests— Water-Spouts — Return of the Explorers. 
 
 Thus stands the condition of the Califomian missions in 1711. 
 More than five hundred thousand dollars of private benefac- 
 tions have been expended upon them ; 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 Jayme 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 neighboring 
 settlements of Indians are baptised. After this he, with innu- 
 merable hardships, crosses the mountains to the settlement of 
 the Cadigomo tribe. Here he meets with the Indians from 
 the settlements of La Purissima Concepcion, and accompanies 
 them home. He fin^ 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 
 fields under cultivation, opens a mule track over the moun- 
 
 I 
 
 !t 
 
 •^ 
 
202 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC 
 
 tains to the mission of Santa Rosalia, and extends his jurisdic- 
 tion over forty settlements, situated within a circuit of ninety 
 miles around him. 
 
 Many years ago the Philippine Islands were discovered and 
 settled by Spain. Soon a considerable trade sprung up be- 
 tween them and the Spanish possessions in Mexico. Indeed 
 the products of the Philippine 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 
 passage from these islands to the Mexican coast is made, for 
 the greater part, through the Chinese seas, to latitude 30*^ N. 
 Here 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 
 the northwesterly winds, which drive them down the coast 
 to Accapulco. In these early times navigation is imperfectly 
 imderstood. 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 nemssary 
 relief can be had, the ships are obliged tp keep down the coast 
 to Mazatlan, Accapulco, or some other port, before they make 
 their 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 order to avoid this dread- 
 ful evil, the Spanish crown has often ordered 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 
 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CAI. IFOR N' IAS. 
 
 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 do it. He 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 ol 
 exhaustless 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 ; 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 sufferings 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 hearing of a grove of large trees two 
 hundred miles north of Loretto, he changes his determination, 
 and in September, 1719, goes with his 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 
 ship of Californian timber ; returns to the north ; levels rocks, 
 cuts away brush ; and making a road ninety miles in length 
 
 W 
 
 * 
 
 If 
 
 111 
 
204 
 
 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 and 
 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 i'i 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. Jay me 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 success. 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 
 
 'I 
 
M 
 
 TRAVELS IN THE r A I. I F K N I A S 
 
 205 
 
 harbor of Lorctto, 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 j and the means being furnish- 
 ed, their thoughts are again turned to the establishment of 
 other missions. Padre Jayme IJravo leads the new under- 
 taking. Two expeditions are therelbre 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 for 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 Tierra 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 their 
 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 instriyt^them in the principles of the Christian 
 religion. Thereupon the Indians receive them as friends, and 
 18 
 
 f 
 
 u 
 
 I 
 
206 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 ^ve them 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 nt La 
 Paz, in establishing Padre Bravo in his mission. Ard 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 lor Loretto. Padre Guillen is 
 so much worn with his land expedition, that he also returns by 
 sea. The Ligui Indians who accompanied him, follow back 
 the path by which they came. Padre Bravo, as all others in 
 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 regulated settle- 
 ments, called Nuestra Sennora del Pilar de La Paz, Todos 
 Santos, and Angel de la Guarda. He alsy, a? he pursues 
 his holy labors, discovers some tracts of arable land sixty 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIAS 
 
 207 
 
 miles distant, which he annually plants with maize. All this 
 Padre 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 EverardHellen, among mountains 
 in latitude 27° N., tliirty leagues northwest of San Ignacio, 
 thirty from Concepcion, and from sixty to seventy north of 
 Loretto. The climate of this location is cold and unhealthy. 
 But the Indians repair to it from the neighboring settlements, 
 and express the utmost joy that the Padre, after long solicita- 
 tions, has come to give them the religion of the white man. 
 This mission is dedicated to Nuestra Seiinora de Gaudalupe. 
 In the midst of the labor of erecting the edifices of the mission, 
 the Padre visits the most distant of the surrounding settle- 
 ments, to instruct the aged and sick, who are unable to come 
 to him. Duriag his absence for these works of chayty, the 
 captain, soldiers and Indians, forward the erection of the 
 church, parsonage and other buildings of the mission ; so that 
 at the end of six weeks, it is in so good a condition that 
 the captain, leaving a guard of four soldiers, returns to Lo- 
 retto. 
 
 Such is the zealous industry of Padre Hellen, and the inter- 
 esting attention of the Indians, that on Easier eve, 1721, he 
 baptizes a few converts. And now from all the villages come 
 applications for instruction and baptism. The good Padre 
 finds it difiicult to make the Indians understand, that some 
 knowledge and the abandonment of their old practices are 
 necessary, before they can receive the sacred rite. He exhorts 
 them to give up the trumperies used in their heathenish cere- 
 monies, and worship Jehovah. At length they bring him a 
 large quantity of pieces of charmed wood, feathers, cloaks, 
 deer's feet, &c., which he commits publicly to the flames, 
 while he receives the transfer of their faith to the religion of 
 the cross. Thus the Padres are making all desirable pro- 
 gress in the spiritual culture of the Indians, and everything 
 promises well. But the following years, 1722 and '23, are 
 very disastrous to their feeble settlements j and especially so 
 
 S| 
 
sm 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC, 
 
 to Gaudalupe. The whole country is overrun with locnsto^. 
 The fruits, the chief sustenance of the Indians, are entirely de- 
 'stroyed. The maize and other supplies in the granaries, are dis- 
 tributed to save them from famine. But in Gaudalupe, even 
 these are insufficient. The Indians are therefore compelled 
 to subsist on the locusts ; and the consequence is a terrible 
 epidemic, by which great numbers are destroyed. They are 
 afflicted with painful ulcers of a most loathsome character. 
 During tWs epidemic. Padre Hellen has to fill the offices of 
 physician, nurse, confessor, priest, and father. He endures 
 almost incredible fatigue j flies from one village to another j 
 administers medicine, prepares food, and smoothes with a wo- 
 man's tenderness, the rude couches of his suflering children. 
 Thus he continues till the sickness ends j when worn out with 
 the multiplicity and the character of his labors, he hails the 
 approach of a season of rest with joy and thanksgiving. But 
 scarcely does it come, when another still more fatal pestilence 
 breaks out among them. A dysentery unusually fatal sum- 
 mons the fainting energies of the good Padre to another 
 effort. He again enters upon his charitable offices, going 
 from rancheria to rancheria, like an angel of mercy, consoling, 
 comforting, praying and blessing. At last the consequences 
 of liis severe labor fall upon himself in a distressing hernia, 
 and defluxion of the eyes, so extremely painful, that he is 
 obliged to leave his flock and retire to Loretto. In a few 
 months he is sufficiently restored, however, to return to his du- 
 ties, and his afflicted Indians receive him with every demon- 
 stration of faithful love and veneration. The Padre avails him- 
 self of this attachment to draw them to his faith so effectually, 
 that, in 1726, seventeen hundred and seven converts 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, 
 
 ^ I / 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIAS. 
 
 209 
 
 
 with each a chapel. And in these humble sanctuaries, as 
 often as the Padre visits them, the red men gather and pay 
 their devotions to the true God ! The proppress 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 ; and 
 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 does 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 things ; 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 sear6h 
 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 detemines 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. 
 18* 
 
 li 
 
 t»JJ. 
 
210 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC 
 
 They learn from the narrative of Viscayno, who has sur- 
 veyed the coast northward from Cape San Lucas, in the pre- 
 ceding century, that there is a spacious bay in latitude 23^ 
 or 24® N. ; and to this point Padre Guillen directs his steps in 
 1719, accompanied by a party of soldiers, and three bodies of 
 Californians, armed after the manner of the natives. They 
 travel over a rough, barren, craggy country, and are obliged 
 to use the greatest caution to prevent the natives from cutting 
 them off. Twenty-five days they journey thus, and at last 
 reach the bay of Magdalena ; a beautiful sheet of water re- 
 posing in the embrace of lofty mountains. On one arm of it 
 they find a rancheria of Indians, whom they gain over by a 
 few presents, and enter into friendly intercourse with them. 
 From them they learn that there is but one well of fresh 
 water in the vicinity ; but that on a neighboring island called 
 Santa Rosa, there is an abundant supply. They have no 
 means, however, of crossing to it. The whole region 
 proves so rough and divided, between marshes and inac- 
 cessible piles of rock, as to be worthless. They there- 
 fore make a circuit of four leagues from the sea to the 
 rancheria San Benito de Amy. Here they receive from the 
 Indians a very discouraging account of the scarcity of water, 
 on the whole coast. Notwitlistanding this, the Padre is anx- 
 ious to survey the country from north to south, and uses all 
 his eloquence to induce the soldiers and Californians to under- 
 take it. But being fatigued and disheartened, they refuse to 
 proceed. The Padre yields reluctantly to the necessity of the 
 case, and taking some friendly Indians of the coast with him 
 as guides, commences his return to Loretto. From the supe- 
 rior knowledge that the guides possess, they accomplish their 
 backward journey in fifteen days ; and once more congratu- 
 late themselves on their arrival at the garrison. 
 
 Their report does not much encourage the hope of Padre 
 Ugarte in relation to his expedition by sea. But having made 
 the best preparations in his power, he sets sail from the bay of 
 Loretto on the fifteenth of May, 1721, with the " Triumph of 
 
 ; 
 
m 
 
 TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIAS 
 
 211 
 
 the Cross," and a boat called the Santa Barbara, to be used 
 in sounding such waters as are too shallow for the larger 
 vessel. The Santa Barbara has eleven feet keel and six feet 
 beam. She carries eight persons. The bilander carries 
 twenty ; six of whom are Europeans, and the rest Indians. 
 Of the former, two have passed the straits of Magellan, another 
 has made a voyage to the Philippine Islands and Batavia, 
 and another has been several times to Newfoundland. The 
 pilot passes for a man of learning and experience ; and thus 
 supported. Padre Ugarte departs on his momentous enter- 
 prise. He takes but a small stock of provisions, expecting to 
 receive a full supply from the mission on the opposite coast 
 of Pimeria. The winds bear them safely to the bay of Con- 
 cepcion, where Padre Ugarte visits the mission of Santa Ro- 
 salia, and spends some hours in social pleasure with Padre 
 Sistiaga. Hence they pass the islands of Salsipuedes. From 
 these they cross the Gulf to the harbor of Santa Sabina and 
 the bay of San Juan Baptista. Here they observe Indians 
 standing on the shore, who flee as the boat nears them. When 
 the Padre lands, he sees a rude cross set up in the sand. The 
 simple solitary sign speaks to the good man's heart. He 
 bows before it, and the crews prostrate themselves in rever- 
 ence at its foot. This is enough. The Indians, reassured by 
 this act, shout a friendly welcome, and rush from their con- 
 cealment. They have known the venerable Salva Tierra j 
 and the strangers' reverence for the cross allays all their fears; 
 so strong have been their love and respect for that great man, 
 that they put all trust in his brethren ; and are so impatient 
 to be near the Padre Ugarte, that they swim to the ship, and 
 manifest their joy by kissing his hands and face, and embrac- 
 ing his feet. The good Padre's heart is deeply touched by 
 these tokens of confidence and love, and having sent two of 
 them with a letter to the Padre of San Ignacio, and distribut- 
 ed some presents among the others, makes preparations to 
 procure a supply of water. For this purpose all the casks are 
 immediately put on shore. They have no interpreter, but the 
 
 i 
 
" 
 
 212 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC 
 
 Indians seem to enter into some dispute relative to the casks. 
 By and by they all take leave, intimating by signs that they 
 will return vvrith the next sun. The Padre and the crew grow 
 apprehensive. What do the Indians mean 7 It cannot be 
 known. But being late, they go on board, and wait the 
 event. Night comes onj but no hostile savages break its 
 silence. With the early morning, however, the dreaded sava- 
 ges are seen returning in troops, with rush buckets filled with 
 water ; the men with two, and the women one each. The 
 faithful creatures, understanding the want implied by the empty 
 casks, have visited their mountain springs during the night, 
 and now rejoice to pour their crystal treasures into the good 
 Padre's vessels. Repaying their kindness as liberally as his 
 small means will permit, he undertakes to visit their kinsmen 
 on a neighboring island. The pinnace and bilander are pi- 
 loted by two of these Indians. A small party in a canoe row 
 in advance of the ships, during the night. At dawn they are 
 in a narrow channel full of rocks and sand spits ; and notwith- 
 standing their 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 have disappeared. The bilander therefore 
 goes on, though dangers beset her on every side, and after 
 three days of tacking and sounding, 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 difficulties or delays. As they ap- 
 proach, the natives appear on the shore, armed and shouting 
 with the intention of intimidating the strangers. But their 
 countrymen swimming ashore in advance, inform them that 
 Padre Salva Tierra's brother is come in the ship to see 
 them. Hearing 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 THE CALIFORNIAS. 
 
 213 
 
 out his person, from the chost downward, he reluctantly 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 his leaving the ship, construct a 
 number of small light floats, and send aboard a deputation of 
 forty or fifty persons, requesting that he will occupy, during 
 his indisposition, a house which they have erected for him on 
 the beach. The good Padre cannot refuse this proffer 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 heads that he may lay his hand upon them, and 
 bless them. The Padre conceals his 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 them 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 discovers 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 coast 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 
 
214 
 
 SCEMK6 IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 leading from it. The Padre sees mucii in these tracks, and 
 despatches two seamen with orders to follow them. These 
 arrive on the third day at the Mission of Concepcion la Ca- 
 borca. Here they find Padre Luis Gallardi, to whom they 
 deliver Padre Ugarte's letters, addressed to himself and the 
 Padre Missionary of San Ignacio. These being found to con- 
 tain urgent petitions for the promised supplies, the Padre 
 Gallardi immediately sets out with such small quantities as 
 he can collect at so short notice. 
 
 Padre Ugarte is still suffering the most excruciating tor- 
 tures. 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, and the expected visit of the Padre Mis- 
 sionary from San Ignacio, he determines, if possible, to 
 receive them ashore. 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 meet his visiters. 
 
 The meagre supplies which they bring him are a source 
 of anxiety to the host and his guests. The pmnace, too, 
 is still absent. She was sent to survey the coast at the 
 same time that the men were despatched by land. The 
 shores of the Gulf have been searched for a great distance 
 north and south, but no trace of her being found, she is 
 nearly given up for lost. The bilander, too, is in continual 
 danger from the agitation of the sea. She has already parted 
 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 wave 
 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 removed from them 
 the symbol of its mercy. The next day, however, an Indian 
 recovers the sacred emblem, and it is again planted in triumph 
 on the prow. Attention is now turned to obtaining wood and 
 Water. The former is easily procured in the glen near the 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIAS, 
 
 215 
 
 \ / 
 
 shore; but the latter they bring Irom a spring several miles 
 distant. While thus engaged, they rejoice to see three of the 
 pinnace's crew approaching them. They relate that after 
 weathering a very rough sea, and being several times in im- 
 minent danger, they cast anchor at sunset in a large shallow 
 bay, with two fathoms water, and went to rest. On the fol- 
 lowing morning they were in a singular predicament for sea- 
 men, out of sight — not of land — but of water ! ! The sea 
 had retired. What should be done ? No water, either fresh 
 or salt, was in sight, and the supply of provisions was very 
 scanty. Some ofthem resolved therefore, to leave the pinnace 
 in search of water and food. Finding none, however, and 
 seeing nothing but famine and death before them, they con- 
 cluded to travel down the coast to Yaqui. The pinnace, how- 
 ever, was visited by another flood tide, which her exhausted 
 crew improved to get her afloat. Her keel had been much 
 damaged. This they repaired, and immediately laid their 
 course for the bilander. Four days after leaving her unfor- 
 tunate berth she rejoins her companion. They now determine 
 to depart from this ungenerous region and its treacherous 
 waters, where neither food, fresh water, fuel nor home for 
 man are to be found, but a mere wilderness of lonely shores. 
 Somewhat disheartened by these unpropitious circumstances, 
 Padre Ugarte, on the second of July, turns his prow westward 
 for California. On the third day afterward he drops the 
 anchor of the bilander and sends the pinnace ashore to talk 
 with some Indians, who, at the sight of the fleet, have lined 
 the shore, all armed in their native style. Before the men 
 leave the pinnace the Indians draw a line on the sand, and 
 intimate by signs it will not be safe for their visiters to cross 
 it. A few presents, however, and some pantomiming, estab- 
 lish affairs on a better footing. They conduct the Padres 
 and people to their rancheria, at which is abundance of 
 water. 
 
 After remaining a short time with these savages, they 
 journey about nine leagues along the coast and find five 
 
 \ I 
 
216 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC 
 
 watering places, with a rancheria at each. The Bilander 
 continuing her survey, at length casts anchor in a large bay ; 
 but finding the current so strong as to prevent her riding head 
 to the wind. Padre Ugarte sends the pinnace down the coast 
 in search of a better harbor, while the pilot goes ashore in 
 the boat seeking an anchorage farther up the bay, returns 
 next day with the boat in so shattered a condition, that it 
 is with difficulty the people are taken on board before she 
 parts asunder. The pilot reports that he left her on the sand 
 and went a short distance to a rancheria ; that while there 
 exchanging friendly intercourse with the Indians, the tide 
 came in with tremendous force, and threw the boat so vio- 
 lently upon the rocks, that she separated from stem to stern ; 
 that the Indians offered them timber to build another ; but as 
 this was impossible, they drew the nails from the oars, fasten- 
 ed the two parts together, and using their sounding line and 
 painter for oakum, and substituting clay for pitch, caulked 
 the seam. Ail night they were thus employed, the Indians 
 kindly rendering them whatever assistance was in their power ; 
 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 again 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 ruthless w )rk 
 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 T 11 K C A I. 1 K R N V A S , 
 
 217 
 
 vey this stream. But Padre Ugarte thinks the floods beneath, 
 and the 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 Peninsula with the main land. The Padre is de- 
 sirous of exploring this region more particularly ; but ill 
 health and the great danger to which his vessel is exposed 
 from the impetuosity and height of the tides, make him hesi- 
 tate. The pilot is satisfied from the present height of the 
 tides that they are at the head of a gulf; and that the 
 waters beyond it are those of the Colorado. The danger of 
 remaining in this place becoming more and more imminent, 
 they at length hold a council, at which it is determined to re- 
 turn to California. Their decision is received by the men 
 with a general acclamation of applause, and greatly to the 
 satisfaction of all, they weigh anchor on the sixteenth of 
 July, 1721, for the port of Loretfo. 
 
 Their course lies down the middle of the Gulf; sometimes 
 standing toward one shore and sometimes the other ; in order 
 to note more particularly the islands and shoals, which fill 
 these watei-s. Meantime they are visited by tremendous tem- 
 pests and storms of rain ; and the Padre, fearing for the peo- 
 ple in the pinnace, which is withQut a deck, urges the mate to 
 leave her and come with her crew on board of the bilander. 
 But that officer trusting to his own craft, informs the Padre, 
 that if he will furnish him with provisions, he will sail direct- 
 ly to Loretto ; and to secure safety in so doing, will keep so 
 near the shore as to be able to run in, should any accident 
 render such proceeding necessary. They therefore separate, 
 and each pursues his own course. The bilander, after much 
 trouble, arrives at the islands of Salsipuedes. She is here 
 obliged, by the winds and strong currents, to lie at anchor 
 for several nights. At last, however, she weathers the Islands 
 of Tiburon. But such is the force of the currents, that in six 
 19 
 
 $ 
 
 i 
 
 ^k, 
 
218 
 
 SCENES [N THE PACIFIC 
 
 hours they lose the labor of eight days. Meantime the tem- 
 pests continue almost every night with frightful fury. The 
 hungry waters roar around the frail bark, and the winds and 
 storms scourge her as if she were some doomed thing, labor- 
 ing under their curse. But the men take courage, for the 
 " Triumph of the Cross" is a special object of Divine favor. 
 Ti..ee successive nights the fires of Saint Ehno light the cross 
 at the mast head, and no evil can befall them after such evi- 
 dence of God's protection. They are encouraged, therefore, to 
 make a third attempt to escape from this dangerous neighbor- 
 hood. Eight days struggling are vain. The currents and 
 storms will not suffer them to depart ; and at last they resolvf 
 to come to anchor at a convenient place which they discover 
 near one of the islands, and go on shore. This begins now to 
 be a matter of necessity on account of the sickness which has 
 disabled all the crew except five. Some have the scurvy, 
 and others are suffering from the effects of the sea water, 
 ■which, farther up the Gulf, in the vicinity of the Colorado, 
 has been so poisonous, as to produce panful, obstinate sores, 
 and sharp pains in many parts of the body. Padre Ugarte 
 himself, besides his other indispositions, is afflicted with the 
 scurvy ; and it is essential that he take means to recover 
 health. The Padre, notwithstanding his illness, is desirous t(t 
 go in the boat to the Seris coast, and thence by land to Guay- 
 raas. But the bare mention of his departure causes such de- 
 jection among the crew, that he promises not to leave them if 
 it cost his life to remain. 
 
 They lie at anchor in this place about four days ; during 
 which time they are visited by a tampest more violent than 
 any that preceded it. At length to their inexpressible joy, 
 on the eighteenth of August, they escape these vexations, and 
 are once more in an open sea. On the Sunday morning fol- 
 lowing, they hail a most happy omen to their future voyage. 
 Three beautiful rainbows hang over the islands they have just 
 weathered ; bright arches of promise rising above the clouds 
 that have so long lowered over them. The sick too are now 
 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIA rf 
 
 319 
 
 all recovering, and everything promises fairly to the buffeted 
 mariners. Their hopes are vain. Other misfortunes are in 
 reserve, more frightful than any they have encountered. For 
 just before they reach the bay of Concepcion, a storm comes 
 up from the north-east so very suddenly, that they have 
 barely time to furl the topsails and reef the foresail, before its 
 fury reaches them. The lightning falls around them, as if it 
 would scorch an ocean to ashes, and the thunder-peals shake 
 the firmament ; the rain falls like the pouring of an upper 
 sea, and the wind ploughs the ocean into mountains ! In the 
 height of this raging war, the terrified mariners discover a 
 water-spout not more than a league distant, travelling directly 
 toward the ship, with the speed of the wind ! They fall upon 
 their knees before the cross, and implore the protection of 
 "Our Lady," and their patron saints. They spare neither 
 prayers, vows, nor entreaties ! And suddenly when the foe is 
 almost upon them, the wind shifts and drives it among the 
 thirsty mountains of California. It discharges its devastating 
 energies upon their barren sands and rocks! Padre Ugarte 
 says, that among all the dangers of the voyage, this was the 
 time of greatest consternation. 
 
 About the first of September, the vessel comes to anchor 
 in the bay of Concepcion ; and they repair in boats to Mulege, 
 to partake the hospitality of Padre Sistiaga. After spending 
 about two weeks in recruiting the sick, they return to their 
 voyage, and soon after arrive at Lorelto. To their great joy 
 they find the pinnace has arrived four days in advance of 
 them. Thus ends this eventful and important voyage. It 
 serves to satisfy the Padres of many things which before were 
 doubtful ; namely, that on the coast of California are some 
 few watering places near the shore; that the Indians are 
 kind, gentle, and willing to be instructed j while those on the 
 main coast, east of the Gulf, are sluggish, ungenerous, and 
 unwilling to enter into any intercourse with the whites. They 
 are also now convinced that California is no island, but a 
 
 \ 
 
 w 
 
220 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 peninsula ; and that all their plans for extending the missions 
 so as to form a chain of connection with those in Pimcria are 
 feasible. They have also obtained a much more accurate 
 knowledge of the Gulf and its islands, shoals and currents, 
 than they ever before possessed ; so that the difficulties and 
 dangers of any future voyage are much lessened. Great sat- 
 isfaction is felt at these results ; and yet the Padres grieve 
 that they have not found a safe harbor, as their King has de- 
 sired, in which the distressed seamen of the ships, bound from 
 the Philippine Islands to Acapulco, may anchor and be spared 
 by timely care, a dreadful death from the scurvy. The 
 Padres still consider it their duty to pursue this object. They 
 feel a moral, as well as national obligation to prevent this 
 suffering. It can only be done by discovering a harbor on the 
 Pacific coast, secure from seaward storms and convenient to 
 fresh water. With a view to this, Padre Tamaral surveys 
 nearly the whole coast from his mission to Cape San Lucas, 
 and far northward also, from the same point; but all to no 
 purpose. It is found inhospitable and barren near the sea ; 
 and destitute of a harbor in which ships may lie with any 
 safety. 
 
 Padre Ugarte, on his return to Loretto, directs a new sur- 
 vey of the same coast as far north as poss'ble. And in com- 
 pliance with this order, a small detachment cf soldiers under 
 the captain of the garrison goes to the mission of Santa Ro- 
 salia de Mulege, and thence with P^idre Sistiaga, to the mis- 
 sion of Guadalupe. On the nineteenth of November, 1721, 
 it leaves for the coast, and advances northward to 28° '^. 
 In this excursion they find three pretty good harbors, with 
 plenty of water and wood ; but no arable land near them. 
 The largest one is not far from the mission of San Xavier ; 
 and may therefore be su^tplied with provisions, timber, &c., 
 from that post. Highly gratified with these discoveries, they 
 return to Loietto and report to Padre Ugarte what they have 
 found. The Padre sends a narrative of hib own voyage, to- 
 
 ^^ 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIFOT. NIAS. 
 
 221 
 
 getlier with the map and journal of his pilot, and Padre Sisti- 
 aga's account of his discoveries, to the Viceroy of Mexico, to 
 be transmitted to the Court, for the information and action of 
 the Government. Meanwhile the Padres turn their attention 
 to the spiritual conquest of this wild country. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 m 
 
 
 A Mission Founded — A Tornado— Death — Another Mission Founded— 
 A Vineyard — A Harvest— Indications of Trouble — A Murder— For- 
 bearance — Three Murders — Measures taken for Defence — The Insur- 
 gents Captured — A Trial— A Sentence— A Reprieve — Death of Padre 
 Piccolo— A Visitor — Further Steps in the Conquest — jo. Voyage- 
 Birds — Natives — Country — Islands — A Plunge — A Shark — Deatli. 
 
 The Padres have lost none of their religious zeal while 
 prosecuting these civil enterprises; and they have gained 
 much topographical and other knowledge, which will be of 
 general service in their future missionary labors. They have 
 learned the practicability of extending their missions farther 
 noi th. The country there is more fertile and better supplied 
 with wood anci water. The moral aspect too is more promis- 
 ing. The natives in that quarter are much superior in intellect, 
 more gentle and friendly, more honest and faithful ; and in 
 every way more inviting and promising than those in the 
 south. There, is a rich field of labor opened to them. But at 
 the same time the condition of the southern natives renders ft 
 mcie necessary that they should be formed into missions. 
 They are treacherous, vindictive, bloody ; and have many vices 
 which are unknown among the northern people. The whole 
 nation of Pericues with its several branches of Uchities, Guay- 
 curos and Coras, are continually engaged in destructive wars, 
 so that no security can be enjoyed by the missions or their 
 19* 
 
 J 
 
 
11 
 
 ii 
 
 222 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 converts, until this entire people are brought under the influ- 
 ence of the Padres. To this end, during the time that Padre 
 Ugarte has been exploring the Gulf and coast, two new mis- 
 sions have been founded among Pericues. 
 
 The Marques de Villa Puente, having a deep interest in the 
 spread of the gospel in California, has endowed two missions 
 which shall be founded between Cape San Lucas and Loretto. 
 Oh receiving tidings of this, it is resolved that Padre Guil- 
 len shall leave the mission San Lucas de Malibat, and found 
 a new mission between the Uchities and Giiaycuros. Accord- 
 ingly in 1721, he settles among them and lays the foi:ndatio.» 
 of a church and other buildings necessary to a mission, on the 
 shore of Aparte, foriy leagues by sea, and on account of im- 
 passable mountains, sixty by land, from Loretto. The mission 
 is dedicated to Nuestra Sennora de los Dolores, and is styled 
 Los Dolores del Sur. The country around it is barren and 
 desolate. The i'lhabitants are the most vindictive, treacher- 
 ous and stupid of al' the Californians. Padre Guillen has 
 therefore no easy or pleasant task to execute. But he enters 
 upon it with so much zeal and love, is so unsparing of his 
 efforts, and so universally kind and gpntle toward those whom 
 he would win to his flock, that his labors are rewarded even 
 more largely than his fondest Iwpes anticipate. 
 
 It is found advisable after the good Padre has been laboring 
 here for some time, to remove his mission farther into the in- 
 terior, to a place called Tanuetia, about icn leagues from the 
 Gulf and twenty-five from the Pacific. In this region the In- 
 dians live in the wildest state. They have no villages; and 
 the Padre is obliged to seek them in caves and woods, and 
 among the almost inaccessible rocks of the mountains. With 
 great labor and the most indefatigable perseverance he 
 draws them f om their retreats and forms them into six villa- 
 ges, called Nuestra Sennora de los Dolores, La Concepcion 
 de Nuestra Sennora, La Incarnacion, T^a Trinidad, La Rc'demp- 
 cion, and La Resurreccion. He also assembles many other 
 wandering Indiadis, and erects for them the new mission of 
 
 I f 
 
TRAVEL 
 
 IN THE CAHFOBNIAS 
 
 223 
 
 San Luis Gonzaga. I^astly, he turns his attention to the con- 
 version of the Indians on the Pacific coast, from the mission 
 of San Xavier southward to the Coras ; and founds among 
 them a new mission. The Padre has now spread his labors 
 over an immense tract of country, extending forty leagues up 
 the Peninsula from Cape San Lucas?, and embracing the whole 
 territory from one coast to the other. 
 
 The soil of this region is extremely poor. A small tract 
 at Aparte on which the Indians are enabled to raise sufficient 
 maize for sustenance, is all that can be cultivated. And be- 
 sides the physical difficulties incident to these desolate wastes, 
 the Padre has savage poverty and its inseparable mental de- 
 gradation, to weaken his hands and try his faith. This is pe- 
 culiarly distressing to the good Padre. It appears to him im- 
 possible to bring these Indians into civilized habits of living, 
 without the industry acquired by the cultivation of the soil. 
 Notwithstanding all these momentous obstacles, however, (and 
 few can appreciate them who have not seen the poor starving 
 Indian in his native wilderness), the good Padre's labors here 
 are so efficient and deeply grounded in the true philosophy of 
 love, that these savages, once so vindictive and turbulent, are 
 so changed as to stand firm during all the subsequent rebel- 
 lions of the south, and offer the Padres and Christian Indians, 
 flying from the treacherous and cruel Pericues and Coras, an 
 affectionate and saiie asylum in the mission de los Dolores del 
 Sur. During the year 1721, anoth ■. mission endowed b" 'he 
 Marques de la Puente, has been founded in the nation of the 
 Toras, near Cape San Lucas, under Padre Ignacia Maria Na- 
 poii. Padre Ugarte, before embarking on his survey of the 
 gulf, gave direction to Padre Napoli to wait the arrival of the 
 bark with supplies from Mexico, and taking whatever he 
 stood n: need of for his new station, to proceed in the bark to 
 La Paz, and thence by land to the Bay of Islands, the place 
 chosen for his mission. This vessel arrives in the middle of 
 July ; and on the twenty-first. Padre Napoli embarks with 
 four soldiers and Captain Don Estevan Rodriguez ; and on 
 
224 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC 
 
 I i 
 
 the second of August, anchors at La Paz. Padre Napoh is 
 met by the Indians with great veneration. They conduct him 
 in procession to the church where Padre Jayme Bravo, then 
 missionary, is waiting to receive him. 
 
 Having rested from the toil of the voyage, the Padre sends 
 the suppUes to Palmas Bay in a boat, while himself and the 
 soldiers proceed by land for the twofold purpose of establish- 
 ing some communication between the contemplated mission 
 and La Paz, and also of inviting such Indians as they may 
 meet on the way, to settle near him and receive instruction. 
 During the eight days of travelling through this wilderness, 
 however, they meet no natives. The news of their approach 
 has aroused their sMPpicions to such a degree, that they desert 
 their rancherias ai ! efore the Padres, as if they were 
 
 come to curse instead i;i ess them. On the twenty-fourth of 
 August they reach their place of destination. Padre Napoii 
 is suffering extreme pain in consequence of a fall from his 
 mule. No Indians appear ; the boat does not arrive ; and the 
 Padre therefore is troubled. One evening Padre Napoii is 
 walking alone at some distance from the tent, when sui'denly 
 his ears are saluted by the most frightful bowlings, and on 
 looking up he sees a company of naked Indians approaching 
 him with the most furious gestures. They are led by one of 
 gigantic stature, painted for battle, in black and red, and par- 
 tially covered by a kind of hair cloak. In one hand he has a 
 fan of feathers, and in the other a bow and arrow. Seve*"?! 
 deer's feet and other unseemly objects dangle from a band 
 around his waist. The Padre, concluding that his time is now 
 come to die, commends his soul to mercy, and advances to 
 meet the Indians. He remembers the instructions of Padre 
 Ugarte, and concealing his fears, looks them boldly in the 
 face, and even makes signs of contempt for their savage arts. 
 Their apparent fury is a little checked by his demeanor ; and 
 the Padre gaining courage, approaches nearer and signifies 
 by signs that he is grieved, but not frightened by their inten- 
 tions. He then proceeds with great kindness to distribute 
 
 
T n A V E L S IN T H K C A L I F R N I A S 
 
 225 
 
 \ 
 
 among them some trifling presents which he has about his 
 person, and invites them to corae to the tent and receive oth- 
 ers. This treatment produces its desired effect. They follow 
 him to the tent, where they are kindly entertained ; and at 
 length depart, bearing tokens of peace to their friends at home. 
 They sr^m much pleased ; but intimate as they depart that 
 they are afraid of the mules and the Padre's dog ; and that 
 they ca'^inot return, unless these are concealed from sight. 
 This the Padre signifles shall be done. The next day the 
 tent is thronged with little parties, to the number of five hun- 
 dred, bringing such presents as the country affords, and re- 
 ceiving in return frocks of sackcloth, razors, and beads. This 
 demonstration cheers the hearts of the Padre and soldiers. 
 Still the boat does not arrive — and they are oppressed with 
 fears lest she may be lost with all their supplies ; for they 
 have been here now five days. No tidings of her have reach- 
 ed them. They are, however, looking out on the sea at 
 the close of the fifth day, when she makes her appearance. 
 She has mistaken the place of rendezvous, and lain four days 
 in a small bay a few leagues to the south. 
 
 Being relieved thus from these several troubles, they begin 
 to clear the ground and erect the village. The Indians con- 
 tinue friendly and aid the work. But on a sudden they all 
 disappear for a whole day. Now again the heart of the Pa- 
 dre beats with anxiety. When and how will the Indians 
 return are questions which will arise, but which no one can 
 answer. Toward evening he determines to go in quest of 
 them with only one soldier and an interpreter. He finds a 
 few, and expresses his regret that they should forsake him ; 
 when they frankly state the cause of their movement, as fol- 
 lows : — They are at war with the Guaycuros ; the Padre is 
 friendly to the latter, and has soldiers and Indians of that na- 
 tion with him. They have watched their labors and see the 
 walls of the church go up. For what other purpose could 
 these be intended to answer, than a warlike one ? Moreover, 
 the Padre iias that morning despatched three Guaycuros on the 
 
 T\\ 
 
 ■r ; 
 
 ll 
 
226 
 
 SCENi.S IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 open road to La Paz ; and the ostensible object is peaceful 
 enough, being simply to drive in a mule laden with maize. 
 Yet they are suspicious that some more important business 
 lies under this affair. In short, they believe the Guaycuros are 
 coining to massacre the whole nation. The Padre has much 
 difficulty in removing this suspicion from their minds. At 
 length, however, he so far recovers their confidence that a 
 large number return to the tent. Others, still apprehensive, 
 light large fires and keep strict watch, that the supposed ene- 
 my may not fall on them unawares. The night, however, 
 operates unfavorably on their feelings. They are all missing 
 again for two days. They look upon Padre Bravo, who 
 speaks the Guaycuri tongue, as the head and front of their 
 foes. His presence keeps their fears and suspicions continu- 
 ally inflamed. And though, when the mule and the Guaycu- 
 ros return from La Paz, they see that Padre Napoli has told 
 them truth, still they cannot so far quiet their fears as to re- 
 turn to their dwellings. Thus they continue between hope 
 and fear for several days. Meantime the Padre continues his 
 labors at the mission ; and by and by the Indians, finding 
 their fears unfounded, begin to come in. The women bring 
 their children for baptism, and the men offer perpetual friend- 
 ship. Peace is also concluded between the Guaycuros and 
 Coras and celebrated with the usual festivities. 
 
 On the fourth of November Padre Napoli baptizes twenty- 
 nine of their children, and everything seems to promise well 
 for their intercourse with the Indians. But as almost every- 
 thing which was brought from La Paz, even to the furniture 
 of the altar, has been distributed among them, and as the 
 supply of provisions is growing short. Padre Napoli finds it 
 necessary to evacuate his post. He accordingly leaves the 
 little furniture and the few remaining utensils in the care of 
 some of the oldest and most faithful of the savages, and pro- 
 mising a speedy return, goes with Padre Bravo and his men 
 to La Paz. 
 
 In January he returns to his mission, and finds that during 
 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIAS 
 
 227 
 
 
 ( 
 
 his absence, a band of forty depredators, from a neighboring 
 island, called Cerralvo, has visited the mission, and finding 
 neither Padre nor guard in possession, killed six baptized child- 
 ren, two women and one man ; and taking another prisoner, 
 returned to their homes. The Padre is sad at this unprovoked 
 barbarity upon his neophytes. But the Captain of the guard 
 is so enraged, that accompanied by a small party of soldiers, 
 he crosses to the island to chastise the savages. They flee at 
 his approach and hide themselves among the rocks. He, 
 however, kills a sufficient number to intimidate the living from 
 a like attempt in future, and returns to the mission. 
 
 The confidence of the Indian converts in the Padre, is 
 greatly increased by this punishment of their enemies. Yet 
 the Padre does not think best to continue his mission so far 
 from La Paz, whence all its supplies must come. According- 
 ly, he selects a spot called Santa Anna, situated thirty leagues 
 from La Paz, and five from the Gulf. Here he builds a 
 chapel and small house, and labors with much success for the 
 establishment of Christianity. In 1723 he builds a church 
 farther in the interior, with the intention of making it the 
 seat of his mission. But an unavoidable accident puts an end 
 to this design. For when the church is so far finished that 
 the beams and rafters are laid for the roof, the Padre is sum- 
 moned one day to attend the deathbed of one of his Indians. 
 During his absence one of the terrible tempests, so common 
 in Lower California, comes up, and the Indians take shelter 
 in the unfinished church. The storm increases, the church is 
 prostrated, and several Indians are buried under it ! Padre 
 Napoli hastens to the spot, and does everything in his power 
 for the relief of the sufferers. But his benevolent acts are 
 misunderstood. The living are thoroughly incensed at the 
 death of their friends, and begin to concert schemes to de- 
 stroy the Padre. Frori this they are at length dissuaded by 
 the repeated assurances of the survivors, that they retired to 
 the church of their own choice, so that in time all becomes 
 quiet again. The church is built and dedicated to San Jago ; 
 
 If] 
 
 'j_ I 
 
 'C'l 
 
 w 
 
 1^ 
 
228 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC 
 
 some ground cleared and sown with maize; and comfort is 
 slowly increasing among them. He spends three years among 
 this slothful and stupid people, during which time he baptizes 
 ninety adults, and about four hundred children. 
 
 The Padres have now for many years sustained a limited 
 intercourse with the Cochimies of Tierra de San Vincente. 
 They have frequently expressed a strong desire to have a Pa- 
 dre among them who would teach them to become Christians. 
 But no opportunity has offered of founding a mission in their 
 territory, till the year 1727, when Padre Juan Baptiste Luy- 
 ando, a Mexican Jesuit of fortune, arrives at Loretto, and 
 offers not only to endow, but to be the founder of a mission. 
 His offers are gratefully accepted by the Padres. The seat of 
 the mission has been selected by Padre Sistiaga of Santa Ro- 
 salia Mulege, during his frequent visits among the Indians of 
 that vicinity. To this spot, therefore. Padre Luyando travels, 
 accompanied by nine soldiers, in January, 1728, and arrives 
 on the twentieth of the same month. The natives having 
 been expecting a Padre for some time, hail his arrival with 
 much joy, and flock to his tent in great numbers. Many of 
 them are already acquainted with the catechism, and nearly 
 all have received some instruction from Padre Sistiaga. Pa- 
 dre Luyando, therefore, finds his task comparatively easy. 
 The Indians are very readily persuaded to destroy all their 
 im elements of sorcery and abandon the foolish and supersti- 
 tious arts in which they have placed their faith. Some of the 
 Catechumens return to their rancherias after receiving baptism, 
 but many remain. The Padre has about five hundred at the 
 mission during the first six months. At the end of this time 
 his provisions beginning to fail, he despatches seven of his 
 soldiers with letters to Loretto, asking supplies ; meanwhile 
 the two that remain together with the Indians, commence 
 building a church, which is finished and dedicated on Christ- 
 mas day. The Padre's heart is so encouraged by his success 
 that he not only undert ikes the instruction of all who come 
 
 ) ) 
 
T r; A V i: i, s i :; the c a i. i f o li n i a s 
 
 229 
 
 ) 
 
 to him, but likewise makes excursions in search of new ob- 
 jects on which to expend his labors. 
 
 He finds all his people docile, kind, vivacious, and active. 
 Their district is well adapted to agriculture. Padre Sistiaga 
 had some time before sown maize on some of it, which yield- 
 ed well ; and Padre Helen had introduced the culture of gar- 
 den vegetables ; for all of which the Indians have acquired a 
 relish. So that Padre Luyando has little difficulty in leading 
 them into agricultural pursuits. He plants with his own 
 hands five hundred vines, besides olive and fig trees, sugar 
 canes, and many other exotic plants. He induces the Indians 
 to sow considerable quantities of wheat and maize annually ; 
 so that on the fourth year of his residence among them, the 
 whole harvest amounts to a thousand bushels of wheat, and a 
 fine quantity of maize and fruits. He also persuades them to 
 form themselves into villages, and to erect adobie and bough- 
 houses. He introduces cattle, and makers every effort to cre- 
 ate among them the desires of civilized lift. And there is no 
 doubt in the Padre's mind, that the adaptation of their country 
 to the pursuits of husbandry, will greatly facilitate his wishes 
 for their spiritual improvement. But in the meantime all is 
 not as fair as it seems. The old jugglers and priests of their 
 former religion, so lately held in great respect, see their power 
 and wealth fading under the new order of things, and them- 
 selves becoming objects of contempt to the younger members 
 of the tribe. It is not in the nature of civilized or uncivilized 
 man, to bear such a change with indifference ; and these men 
 resolve to use what influence they have left, to recover their 
 rank. Accordingly they instigate some unconverted Indians 
 to oppose the Padre's lab'>rs by every available means. On 
 a dark night, therefore, eight of them fall upon a catechumen, 
 near the Padre's cottage, and murder him. After this outi ag ?, 
 they persuade a whole rancheria, at some distance from the 
 mission, to refuse all intercourse with the Padre. In this 
 neighborhood, for two years, bands of malcontents shelter 
 themselves, and dissuade the people from yielding to any ad- 
 20 
 
 
 \i\ 
 
230 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC 
 
 I 
 
 vances from the Christians. And when at length three of 
 its people are baptized, they are obliged to take refuge in 
 the house of the Padre, from the fury of their disaffected rela- 
 tives. 
 
 To all these outrages, the Padre makes no resistance, and 
 for the evil, returns love, patience, and uniform kindness. In- 
 deed, were he disposed to chastise them, he has not the power. 
 His feeble force would be useless against an active, vigilant 
 and fearless band of savages. He therefore betrays no dispo- 
 sition to punish these wrongs. He has not yet learned from 
 experience, that undue forbearance is neither wisdom nor vir- 
 tue. Some of the wild unconverted Indians, therefore, re- 
 strained by no fear of chastisement, falling upon a Christian 
 rancheria, murder two men and a little girl. The remainder 
 succeed in escaping to the mission. The Padre's people wish 
 to avenge this outrage, but he restrains them, in the hope that 
 forbearance may yet be effectual with these bad men. In this 
 he is mistaken. The savages concluding, from the quiet man- 
 ner in which he submits to their treatment, and also from 
 some kind messages and presents which the Padre has sent 
 them, that he is helpless and fearful, are emboldened to at- 
 tack other rancherias, and plunder the Christians wherever 
 they meet them. These last outrages awaken in the Pa- 
 dre a determination to prevent their recurrence. He as- 
 sembles his converts and with them retires to Guadalupe for 
 safety. Efi'ective measures are now taken. Three hundred and 
 fifty converted Indians are armed ; and having, by the Padre'? 
 permission, elected their own leader, they march against their 
 foes with great spirit and determination. They find them en- 
 camped near a watering place at the base of a mountain. 
 During the night they succeed in surrounding them, and at day- 
 break, raising the war shouts, advance on all sides upon the 
 sleeping enemy. Finding themselves thus completely hem- 
 med in by a force greatly superior to their own, they lay 
 down their arms. Only two escape. The others, thirty-four 
 in number, are taken to the mission as prisoners. 
 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIAS. 
 
 231 
 
 When thanks have been duly returned for this signal and 
 easy victory, a court is organized from the soldiers and In- 
 dian Alcaldes, for the trial of the prisoners. They are con- 
 victed of the capital crimes of rebellion, robbery, and murder, 
 and sentenced to be removed to Loretto for punishment. They 
 are very much dejected at the prospect of death. The Indians 
 of the mission are elated with the hope of being permitted to 
 execute them. But the Padres assure the prisoners that they 
 shall not die ; and reprove the unchristian exultation of their 
 people ; instructing them that ns Christians they should exer- 
 cise charity and forgiveness toward all men. Meantime some 
 of the converts are so gently disposed toward the prisoners 
 that they beseerh the Padres to convene the court the next 
 day, that the sentence may be reconsidered. The Indian con- 
 verts now come before the soldiers and Indian Alcaldes, beg- 
 ging them to make the sentence of their enemies lighter. Af- 
 ter some deliberation it is commuted to a certain number of 
 lashes. The punishment is first inflicted on the principal mur- 
 derer. The Padres then pray that it may be confined to him. 
 This is most unwillingly complied with. They are therefore 
 deprived of their arms and liberated. 
 
 The prayers of the Padres are answered in the effect which 
 this treatment has upon their enemies. In a few months all 
 these prisoners have become catechumens. The victory and 
 lenity are of great service to the missionaries. The former 
 intimidates the unconverted Indians, the latter shows the ex- 
 cellence of the precepts of Christianity. Padre Luyando, 
 however, now finds his health so much impaired that he must 
 leave the mission to recruit his exhausted energies. The In- 
 dians are deeply pained at parting with him. But his place is 
 well filled by the kind and active Padre Sistiaga. 
 
 The years 1729 and '.30 bring heavy misfortunes on the mis- 
 sions of California, in the death of two of the oldest and most 
 valued laborers among them ; Padre Piccolo and Padre 
 Ugarte. Both these men have by long years of the most ardu- 
 ous and faithful service, woven their names inseparably with 
 
r 
 
 I 
 
 il 
 
 232 
 
 SCENES 
 
 N THE PACIFIC 
 
 the history of California, and left in their characters and lives, 
 an example to all who would rear the cross in the solitary wil- 
 derness. Bold, indefatigable, self-denying, just, and true men, 
 they were, who never shrank from any duty, however severe, 
 and were never swerved by passion or love of ease, from the 
 line of action marked out by judgment, truth and religious 
 faith. 
 
 Padre Piccolo expires in the garrison at Loretto, on the 
 twenty-second of February, 1729, having lived seventy-nine 
 years, thirty-two of which he has spent among the missions 
 of California. ^ Padre Ugarte follows him the next year, hav- 
 ing been thirty years a laborer on the same ground. The deaths 
 of these excellent men are momentous events in the missions. 
 Their great experience, their uniform kindness, their zeal, tem- 
 pered by wisdom and sagacity, their unblemished integrity, 
 and the veneration in which their very names are held by the 
 Indians, make them powerful co-operators with the young and 
 active missionaries, even though age and debility forbid them 
 a personal participation in their labors. At this time, too, 
 their presence is particularly desired, for the southern na- 
 tions, never much relied on, are growing turbulent. The un- 
 converted among them, and there are many of these notwith- 
 standing the efforts of Padre Bravo at La Paz, Padre Napoli 
 at San Jago, and Padre Guillen at Dolores, lose no occasion 
 to insult and annoy those who have embraced the cross. 
 They become so troublesome that in 1723, Capt. Rodriguez, 
 with a company of soldiers, marches into their districts, to 
 intimidate them, and, if possible, put an end to their outbreaks. 
 In 1725, also, he finds it necessary to go with an armed force 
 against some rancherias of Uchities and Guaycuros, who have 
 been stimulated into rebellion, by a few mulattoes and mesti- 
 zoes, renegades of foreign privateers, that have touched at Cape 
 San Lucas. These difficulties will ripen into fearful scenes. 
 Another attempt is now made to found an establishment at 
 Palmas bay, the original seat of the mission San Jago de los 
 Coras. It is endowed by the Donna Rosa de la Penna, cousin 
 
T R A V E I- S IN T H t C A I- 1 f R N I A S . 
 
 233 
 
 of the Marquis de Ville Puente. This individual also oflfers 
 to endow a third, in the neighborhood of Cape San Lucas. 
 About this time, Padre Josef de Echeveria, the Mexican agent 
 for California, is appointed by the papal court, Visitor General 
 of the Jesuit missions ; and he resolves to commence his visi- 
 tation in California. Purchasing in Cinaloa, therefore, a bark 
 to supply the place of one that, with a year's provisions, a few 
 weeks before has been lost, he embarks at Ahome, and on the 
 twenty-seventh day of October, arrives safely in Loretto bay, 
 where he is received with great respect and afK.'ction by the 
 Padres, and their Indians. Soon after his arrival, he is attack- 
 ed with a most malignant fever. For many days his life is 
 despaired of, but he recovers ; and while yet very feeble, leaves 
 the garrison for the northern missions, with only the ensign, 
 one soldier, and a few Indians. 
 
 The Visitor finds great cause of rejoicing in the con- 
 dition of the missions. The economy, neatness and order of 
 everything connected with them, the quiet and regular con- 
 duct of the Indian converts, and their progress in knowledge 
 of temporal things, the patience, kindness and industry of the 
 Padres, the good understanding between them and their peo- 
 ple, and most of all, the progress Christianity has made in the 
 bosom of the wilderness, touch the Padre's heart with the 
 liveliest joy. In a letter dated the tenth of February, he says, 
 " I was well rewarded for the fatigue and cold, were it only 
 in seeing the fervor of these new Christian establishments. 
 And the least I could do was to shed tears of joy at so fre- 
 quently hearing God praised from the mouths of poor crea- 
 tures, who very lately did not so much as know whether there 
 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 Palmas bay and Cape San 
 Lucas. But death and ill-liealth among the Padres render it 
 impossible to carry both these plans into execution. Padre 
 Segisraund Taraval has been appointed to the charge of the 
 20* 
 
 
 
 M 
 
 >\ 
 

 j 
 
 IJ ' 
 
 234 
 
 SCElfES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 former, called Santa Rosa, in honor of the foundress ; but does 
 not arrive. And it is determine 1, 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 Purissiraa, is therefore 
 chosen to fill it. "; his 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 an 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 ^adre Visitor with 
 his two soldiers leave the spot, they come in great numbeicj to 
 Padre Tamaral, essigning as a reason for not appearing 
 sooner, that they feared the Pa^'reshad come with the soldiers, 
 to punish their assduits on tl, e missions of San Jago and La 
 Paz. Pndre Tamaral makes a journey in search of the 
 rriiicherias and the people whom he is to teach, and also of a 
 better site for his mission. The present one is infested 
 with musquitoes and other 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 ihe 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 s > successful is he, 
 that in one year he has instructed and baptized one thousand 
 and thirty -six souls ; and so far as their indolpnt roving cha- 
 racter will permit, has bdl:.ed their temporal welfare. 
 
 In the yc^r 3730, Padre Taraf^ial 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 coasl, which they determine to visit. Accordingly, 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIAS, 
 
 235 
 
 ' 
 
 '^y. 
 
 having constructed a raft of timber, they piss over to the 
 nearest one, and find it a &mall 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 immense 
 flocks of birds which frequent it. Among these is a small jet 
 bMck 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 knoAvn to the Padre. 
 It is about the size of a goose, with black wings, a snowy 
 breast, uiiJ 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 circumft.unce, 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 specie" with fur 
 finer than that of the beaver. 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 mexcahs, which is 
 juicy and very pleasant. A variety of beautiful shells lie on 
 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 bny of San Xavier thr.^e other small 
 islands, whivih 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. They 
 can obtain no information respecting these latter from the 
 people of Amalgua. For ihey inform the Padre that their 
 
 '4^ 
 

 236 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC 
 
 I.; 
 
 '\ 1. 
 
 sorcerers have prohibited them all intercourse with their in- 
 habitants, and even the privilege of looking toward them. 
 The Padre finds no difficulty in persuading the people of 
 Amalgua to accompany him to the mission. The only oppo- 
 sition arises from an old sorcerer. But his influence effects 
 nothing. Even his own wife proposes to leave him if he will 
 not go with them. And he also finally consents. They em- 
 bark, therefore, on their raft foi 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 off. 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. 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIAS 
 
 237 
 
 Nevertheless, he meets 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 s^ek. 
 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. 
 
 I 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 A Rebellion attempted — Arrival from the Seas. — The Sick — Depart- 
 ure — Disaffection among the Indians — Insurrection — Fearful Times 
 — Martyrdom of Padres Carranco and Taraaral — 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 Padres — Peace made and Padres 
 resume their Labors — Southern Missions recovered — Indians reduced 
 to Subjection — Condition of the ConqucFt in 1745. 
 
 Meantime, in the winter of 1733-4, some signs of revolt 
 have appeared m the missions San Jago ant' '^;iti Josef. The 
 chief, called Boton, the offspring of an Indian ind a negro, a 
 most profligate mulatto, who has been reproved by thr Padre 
 Carranco, for some of his excesses, and afterward conlinuing 
 in the same practices, has been punished publicly, a!'ies him- 
 self with another mulatto, named Chicori, belonging to the 
 mission San 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 Taraaral 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- 
 
r- 
 
 238 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC 
 
 rives, little disposition exists among the Indians to persist ; and 
 Padre Tamaral proposes to return to his own mission. But 
 he is informed by a friendly Indian that Boton and Chicori, 
 witk two bodies of men, are stationed on his route, to kill 
 him. Being satiified of the truth of this report by men dis- 
 patched to reconrioitre, 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 all the missionaries in the country. 
 A few days after this, some Indians who have been fishing off' 
 Cape San Lucas, come running to the mission with much joy 
 and wonder expressed in their countenances, and inform the 
 Padre that a large ship is near the Cape, standing directly 
 toward the bay San Barnabe. 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 
 bay, 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 j and ii..iiii 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 convey them on board. At the same 
 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 them in filling tlieir 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 diseased than 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, Don Antonio de Herrera, 
 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIAS 
 
 239 
 
 boatswain, and the Most Rev. Domingo de Horbigoso, of the 
 order of San Augustine. They are commended to Padre 
 Tamaral, by Captain Don Geronimo Montero, and the Padre 
 Commissary, Matthias de Ibarra. The Captain informs Padre 
 Tamaral that the galleon will always put in here for wattr 
 "nd 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 tc 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 
 tie best of their stores, gives them his own food to eat. In 
 a word, he spares no self-denial or care for their benefit ; and 
 has the pleasiu:e 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 his come up from La Paz for that purpose. 
 
 Yii'i 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 th^ir 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 superintends the mission during his absence, 
 discovers some disaffection among the Indians. It seems, 
 however, easily allayed. They appear happy and tranquil. 
 But und» r 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 greatest trial, is the abrogation of their 
 old laws, permitting polygamy. They are also prevented 
 from entering into those bloody wars which have so long been 
 their principal pastime ; and from seeking revenge on those 
 
I* ) 
 
 h i 
 
 240 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 I' 
 
 
 
 who injure them. Altogether, the restraint of Christianity, 
 the personal malignity of Boton and Chicori, and the de- 
 fenceless state of the missions, encoi ^ge these ignorant sava- 
 ges to attempt a revolt and the butchery of those whom they 
 esteem their oppressors. It must not be understood that there 
 are none among the converted to oppose so wicked a step, and 
 abide by their spiritual fathers through all the troubles which 
 follow. On the contrary, large numbers feel the deepest 
 grief and shame at the conduct of their countiymen. But 
 only a small portion of all the natives have ever professed 
 Christianity. So that if none of these are unfaithful, the ma- 
 jority will be greatly in favor of the rebels. 
 
 The insurgents find 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 turn their 
 first attention to disposing of them. The first act of violence, 
 therefore, is the murder of one of Padre Taraval's soldiers, 
 whom they fall upon when alone and unarmed, at some dis- 
 tance from the mission. They next repair to the Padre, and 
 inform him 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 questioning them closely, 
 concludes from their confused manner, that they have mur- 
 dered the man, and 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 suspicion or fear. 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 they 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. 
 
 J 
 
 'M 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIAS. 
 
 241 
 
 About this time Padia Tamaral is attacked vt'ith. a danger- 
 ous disease ; and being alone with 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 offers to 
 carry him to La Paz. But the latter thinks his fear magni- 
 fies the danger, and refuses to go. The soldier declares he 
 will not stay there to die at the hands of bloodthirsty In- 
 dians ; but he cannot prevail upon the Padre to accompany 
 him. He leaves him, therefore, and goes directly to La Paz. 
 As usual, on his arrival, he fires his musket at a certain dis- 
 tance from the mission, to give notice of his approach. But 
 no answer is made. He walks up to the house. All is silent 
 and solitary as the tomb ! A rifled portmanteau, some broken 
 utensils and furniture, and some drops of blood on the floor, 
 tell a story which thrills the breast of the solitary man ! He 
 hastens on to Dolores, a distance of sixty leagues, through a 
 wilderness; a long road for a single man, whe). death lurks 
 under every bush and tree ! He arrives safely, however, and 
 immediately acquaints Padre Guillen with the state of affairs 
 below. The Padre immediately sends instructions to his 
 brother to withdraw to Dolores. But close upon the heels 
 of the previous tidings, follow letters from Padre Carranco, 
 informing him of an insurrection among the Pericues, and re- 
 questing instructions how to proceed. Orders are therefore 
 dispatched for all to repair to La Paz, whither he sends a 
 canoe and seventeen faithful Indians, to bring them to Dolores. 
 But the letters never reach the hands for which they are 
 written ! At the same time Padre Carranco sends a body of 
 Christian Indians to Padre Tamaral at San Josef, entreating 
 that he will permit them to escort him to his mission for 
 safety and counsel. The Padre replies, that no signs of 
 danger have appeared in his mission; that he thinks fear 
 augments small things to great ; that he trusts in God, whom 
 he desires to serve in Ufe and death ; and does not think his 
 21 
 
 i 
 
242 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC 
 
 In ': 
 m -I 
 
 I ■■' 
 
 i" !► 
 
 Hi 
 
 condition such as to justify him in forsaking his mission. 
 The Indians who have been sent for him, on their return 
 fall in with a party of rebels, and inform them that Padre 
 Carranco is made acquainted with all their plans by the boy 
 who lives in his house. They therefore change their design 
 of falling upon Padre Tamaral. It is deemed more important 
 to cut off Padre Carranco, in order to prevent his giving in- 
 formation of their purposes, or calling aid from other missions. 
 They communicate their plans to some of the converted In- 
 dians of San Jago, and with menaces and warnings, invite 
 them to join their party. After some wavering they do so ; 
 and the whole body moves toward the mission to take the life 
 of their best friend and benefactor. They reach it between 
 six and seven in the morning, on Friday, the first of October, 
 1734 X 
 
 The good Padre has just left the chapel after Mass, and is 
 engaged at his private devotions in his own chamber. They 
 first inquire for the two mestizos, or half-breeds, who act as 
 the Padre's guard ; and are informed that they have gone, by 
 his order, to drive in two animals for the use of the mission. 
 These then are not in the house to fire upon them. Never- 
 theless, conscious of criminal intentions, they keep at a safe 
 distance and send in messengers, with the • . of Padre 
 Tamaral. Padre Carranco is on his knees praying, when 
 they enter. But he rises and receives them .Jectionately ; 
 expresses his surprise that Padre Tamaral is not come with 
 them ; and asks if they bring no letter 1 They say " yes," 
 and give it to him. The Padre begins to read j and when 
 absorbed in its contents, the whole body of conspirators rush 
 tumultuously into the house. Two of them seize and drag 
 him out between the house and the church, and there hold 
 him by the gown, while others stab him through the body 
 with arrows! And while his blood flows from the wounds, 
 the dying Padre offers most earnest prayer to God that He 
 will accept this sacrifice of his Hfe, for his own sins and those 
 of his deluded Indians ! 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIAS, 
 
 243 
 
 ( 
 
 After the wretches see that the Padre's life is far speni, 
 they whip him with sticks, and bruise him with stones ! His 
 last word is a prayer for his murderers ! Meantime one of 
 them sees the boy who waited on the Padre, crying bitterly 
 at the death of the good man, and says to him, " Why do you 
 cry 1 Go now, and tell the Padre what is doing in the ran- 
 cherias !" Another adds scornfully, " as he loved the Padre, 
 it is but reasonable he should go and keep him company j'* 
 and taking him by the feet, they dash out his brains upon the 
 floor and walls of the house, and cast him into the place 
 where others are beating and stoning the cold body of the 
 good old Carranco. 
 
 The uproar of these infernal proceedings brings together 
 Indians of all ages and sexes. Some are indignant at such 
 inhumanity ; but dare not interpose to stop its progress. For 
 among the murderers are some of the principal converts, 
 even those who have been sent to escort Padre Tamaral from 
 San Josef J the very men who joined thf? Padre in his morning 
 devotions, are now sharing the rancor and fury of others 
 against him. Some are heaping wood together to burn him ; 
 others are dragging his bloody and disfigured body, bristling 
 with arrows, and still manifesting figns of life, toward the 
 flaming pile ! Here they strip him, not so much for the sake 
 of his raiment, as to heap their execrable insults upon the 
 naked body of him who dared to reprove their infamous 
 bestialities ! The shocking enormities practised upon his 
 corpse, their revolting scurrility and lewdness while tramjiing, 
 shouting, ai ^ ' ^ring over his remains, must not be written. 
 These, and i aer parts of this terrible tragedy, show that the 
 new doctrine of chastity and other Christian laws connected 
 with the wedded state, particularly that which forbids a plural- 
 ity of wives, are the chief causes of this malignity and murder ! 
 
 And now, amid savage shouts, outrages and dancings, 
 lasciviousness, shocking pollutions and execrations, hey raise 
 upon their shoulders the body of the venerable Lorenzo Car- 
 ranco and his little servant, and tumble them together upon 
 
r 
 
 i 
 
 il; 
 
 244 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 !i 
 
 
 iliil 
 ti 
 
 i ^ I 
 
 I 
 
 l> 
 
 the funeral pile ! They next proceed to pillage the house 
 and church ! The clothing and such furniture as they can use 
 they keep. The crucifixes, the statues of saints, the altars, 
 the chalice, the missal, and other things used in worship, they 
 heap upon the burning body of the Padre. Amidst the 
 wild exultations which accompany this act of contempt 
 toward the religion of their murdered friend, the two domes- 
 tics of the Padre come with the mules. Around these, as 
 fresh objects of a fury not yet exhausted, they gather, and 
 bid them kill the animals. No sooner have they done it, 
 than the demon crowd pour a shower of arrows into them, 
 and while still shrieking in the agonies of death, throw them 
 upon the burning pile. 
 
 After perpetrating these cruelties at San Jago, the murderers 
 go toward the mission of San Josef. Their number is now 
 greatly increased. The disaffected from all the southern parts of 
 the peninsula, with many of the well-disposed who have joined 
 them to save their own lives, are gathered together. This 
 company now approach San Josef. It is the Sabbath. Pa- 
 dre Tamaral's prayers for his poor benighted flock have been 
 ofTered at dawn. It is now eight o'clock. He is sitting in 
 his house, meditating on the means of extending his useful- 
 ness to these wretched Californians, when a party of the 
 seditious, consisting chicfiy of the Indians of his own mission, 
 break in upon him, all demanding something, in order that, 
 being refused, they may have a cause of quarrel with him. 
 Perceiving their design, however, the Padre replies mildly, 
 " stay, my children, there is enough in the house to content 
 you all." Being thus disappointed in getting a pretence for 
 resentment, and not waiting even to contrive any other ex- 
 cuse, the very men who killed the Padre at San Jago, beat 
 Padre Tamaral to the ground, drag him by the feet out of the 
 house, and shoot arrows into his body. After this, the multi- 
 tude rush up and demand that his throat shall be cut with the 
 knife which he was accustomed to use in giving them food. 
 This good man, like his brother martyr, pray: lOr his mur- 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIAS. 
 
 245 
 
 
 derers ! A villain approaches him with the knife. He im- 
 plores God to save the soul of him who is about to slay 
 him ! The fatal blow is struck ! The dying man commends 
 himself and his sinning flock to the Great Shepherd of the 
 human race, and while uttering the name of the Saviour, ex- 
 pires ! They practise more abominable insults upon the body 
 of Padre Tamaral than they have upon that of Padre Carranco. 
 And now being relieved from the fear of their victims, a 
 great multitude of all ages assemble, and, for many days, cele- 
 brate their villanies with that most brutish licentiousness 
 with which, in the time of their infidelity, they used to 
 solemnize their victories ! 
 
 The delay occasioned by these infernal orgies saves the 
 life of Padre Taraval at Todos Santos. A boy belonging to 
 this village happens to be in San Jago on the day of Padre 
 Carranco's murder ; and while the rebels go to San Josef, he 
 hastens home and relates what he has seen to an old man of 
 his rancheria, who immediately induces him to tell the Padre. 
 This old man offers to convey the Padre to a neighboring 
 island, and with his friends, die, if need be, in his defence j 
 but thinks it out of their power to protect him at the mission. 
 While they are counselling, the boy's narrative is confirmed 
 by the arrival of some Indians belonging to Santa Rosa, who 
 have witnessed Padre Taraaral's martyrdom. There is now no 
 more hesitation. To stay will be madness ; nay, a suicide, 
 which can answer no good purpose, since the Padre's presence 
 can protect no one else. Indeed, there is little if any danger 
 to others. For they only desire to destroy the Padres, that 
 they may enjoy all the savage liberty of butchery and vice, 
 which they exercised before these men came among them. 
 On the night of the fourth of October, therefore, Padre Taraval 
 taking with him, from Todos Santos, the furniture of the altar, 
 repairs to the bay of La Paz, and taking all the ornaments 
 and consecrated utensils of the mission at this place, goes 
 on board the boat which Padre Guillen has sent in compli- 
 ance with Padre Carranco's request, and sails for the Island 
 21* 
 
 \''a 
 
 i 
 
 fSl 
 
I 
 
 346 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 M|:i^ 
 
 l! 
 
 ^li! ,• 
 
 del Spiritu Santo, where he fortunately meets another boat 
 with provisions and guards from Loretto. With these the 
 good man hastens to Dolores, in order to prevent the savages 
 from executing their bloody ntentions against Padre Guillen. 
 He arrives safely, and finds the good Padre overwhelmed with 
 sorrow at the fate of the beloved Carranco. But his grief 
 knows no bound when he learns that Padre Tamaral has 
 fallen in the same manner, and that the P ur missions of San 
 Jago, San Josef, Santa Rosa and El Pilai de la Paz, are ut- 
 terly ruined. 
 
 While this melancholy conference is being held, the insur- 
 gents, flushed with success, repair to the village of Todos San- 
 tos, whence Padre Taraval has just fled. Their rage is ex- 
 treme when they find their intended victim escaped ; they vent 
 their disappointment on the Christian Indians in the neigh- 
 borhood. Twenty-seven of these are killed. The rest flee I 
 
 Having now no common enemy against whom to direct 
 their hatred, they fall into quarrels among themselves, and 
 practise against each other the same treachery and cruelty 
 they have shown the Padres and Christian Indians ! 
 
 Meantime, Padre Guillen, as superior of California, on the 
 first knowledge of these outrages, writes to the Viceroy of 
 Mexico, informing him of their losses, and the danger 
 which threatens them, and begging immediate measures 
 may be taken to repair the one and remove the other. 
 But his Excellency estimates life and missionary effort in 
 California too lightly, to trouble himself much with the good 
 Padre's complaints. He writes that he is sensible of the dan- 
 gers to which they Eire exposed, and also of the great impor- 
 tance of the missions to religion and the King ; and that he 
 will, with pleasure, concur with the Padres in any state- 
 ment which they shall judge proper to be made to their sove- 
 reign in respect to them ; and will use his utmost interest with 
 his Majesty, for the adoption of such measures as shall tend 
 to promote their prosperity. He adds, that if he can obtain a 
 warrant from his Majesty to aid them, he will execute it in its 
 
r" 
 
 TRAVELS IN THE CALIF0RNIA8. 
 
 247 
 
 ) 
 
 full extent. In short, the Viceroy, like many modern politi- 
 cians and placemen, says much that is extremely flattering to 
 the general cause of missions, and of the faithfulness and 
 assiduity of these missionaries in particular, but does not raise 
 a hand to turn the assassin's knife from their throats. 
 
 In the meantime, as the rebellion increases, and some signs 
 of violence appear at Dolores, the captain of the garrison at 
 Loretto repairs thither "with some soldiers. He finds Padre 
 Taraval, from whom he learns the cruel murders that have 
 been committed at San Jago and Josef. But as the Indians 
 are emboldened by then- successes, and his band is very small, he 
 thinks it prudent to remain at Dolores, and by preserving order 
 there, prevent, if possible, the flame from spreading to the north- 
 ern tribes. But notwithstanding all his precautions, the evil 
 tidings go forth. As if the winds of heaven served the wick- 
 ed purposes of the enemy, they spread in an incredibly short 
 space of time from Cape San Lucas to San Ignacio, a dis- 
 tance of more than two hundred leagues, and infect the com- 
 mon Indians to an alarming extent. But the chiefs of the 
 tribes remain firm, and keep the Padres informed of the de- 
 signs entertained by their people. They also beg to be par- 
 ticipants in any measures for protection which may be devised. 
 
 Padre Guillen finding affairs grow more and more despe- 
 rate, and no assistance adequate to the emergency offering 
 itself, issues orders early in the year 1735, for all the mis- 
 sionaries to repair to Loretto, and put themselves under the 
 protection of the garrison. These orders happily are acted 
 on without the knowledge of the rebels, till the Padres are 
 beyond their reach. Padre Guillen once more addresses the 
 Viceroy, informing him that all the missions are forsaken, and 
 that they are still in imminent danger, even at Loretto— for 
 the garrison is too weak to contend successfully with such a 
 body of savages as may be brought against it, should there, 
 as they anticipate, be a general rising among the tribes. 
 
 These dispatches are sent to the river Yaqui, in Senora, 
 and thence by Indian converts to Mexico. They arrive on 
 
■^^-■■i*"^' 
 
 If 
 
 248 
 
 SCENLS IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 the thirteenth of April, 1735, and the Provincia'i of New 
 Spain immediately delivers them to the Viceroy. But though 
 he u/ges attention to them in two memorials, praying him to 
 consider the immediate danger of the Padres, the man of au- 
 thority refuses to do anything in tiie premises. The Provin- 
 cial has recourse to his Majesty. A ship being hen ready to 
 sail for Madrid, he forwards to Padre Caspar Rod ^ro, agent 
 general at court of the Society of Jesus for the li kin Pro- 
 vinces, who lays it before his Majesty, and prays iiis earliest 
 action upon it. But long befoic the Royal pleasiiie can be 
 knov/n in the New World, help has come to the little band 
 at Loretto from the seed their own hands have sovvi . 
 
 It appears that as soon as it became known to the more 
 reflecting of the converts, that the Padres had gathered up 
 the consecrated utensils of the churches, and departed to Lo- 
 retto, a sense of shame at their ingratitude, and a conception 
 of the vahie of the Padres' services, forced themselves upon 
 their stupid minds, and made them repent their Mi*Vit of fideli- 
 ty. Acco.dingly they now begin to act. Reciprocal mes- 
 sages are sent through the country inviting each other to ren- 
 dezvous and follow the Padres to Loretto. They come in 
 bands from each mission, and form themselves into a long 
 procession, the head men of San Ignacio bearing on their 
 shouldei-s the crucifixes of their mission, those of Nuestra 
 Senora de Gaudilupe, the crucifixes of their mission, and those 
 oi Santa Rosalia, Ihe crucifixes of their mission ; and in silent 
 sadness move on to Loretto, enter the fort and stand weeping 
 befon^ the Padres' dwelling ! They say, " You have baptized us ; 
 you have taught us the name and worship of the true God ; you 
 have gathered us from the dry mountains to the watered v?les ; 
 you have made us believe that gor J ^cts alone bring happi- 
 ness ; you have made us your children ; will you now forsake 
 IS? We cannot live as we did before we saw you ; we do 
 not want to die in the crimes of our dark days !" '^ hus the} 
 i-eason w'th the Padres. « It is not just," they sl , " that a 
 whole nation should suffer for the sins of a few ; especially 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIPORNIAS. 
 
 249 
 
 : % 
 
 a 
 lly 
 
 when the mass are willing and able to deliver the criminal 
 to the punishment their evil deeds merit." With one voice 
 they promise to protect the Padres in every emergency. 
 They implore them to return ; and declare that if they refuse 
 *^ do so, they also will remain at Loretto, for they will not 
 live without them and their religion ! The Padres and 
 garrison are affected to tears by these evidences of contrition 
 and attachment to the faith. They delay a few days in order 
 to test the sincerity of the Indians. But noticing no 
 defection they repair to their respective districts and are 
 received with tumultuous joy by their people. The conspira- 
 tors are surrendered : some of them are slightly flogged ; and 
 four of the most guilty of the band ut San Ignacio are banished 
 a short time from all the mission premises. 
 
 This submission and fidelity on the part of the Californians 
 is followed by a most gratifying manifestation of sympathy 
 by the Yaquis across the Gulf. These Indians, always noted 
 for their honesty and bravery, assemble immediately upon the 
 receipt of Padre Bravo's letter detailing lue condition of Cali- 
 fornia, to the number of five hundred warriors, and offer to go 
 and put down the insurgents. But as the bilander, which is 
 to convey them, can take only a fraction of that number, they 
 select from among themselves sixty of their best warriors, and 
 send them, with five hundred bows and arrows to arm the 
 friendly Indians of the peninsula to fight in their stead. 
 
 With these the bilander sails and lands them near Loretto. 
 Thence they march to Dolores. Here they meet the com- 
 mander of the garrison, who greets them with the warmest 
 expressions of gratitude for their generous conduct ; but 
 informs them that tranquilUty has been restored among the 
 northern missions by the Indians themselves. It is therefore 
 determined to divide their strength between Loretto and La 
 Paz. Accordingly, a sufficient force having been left in the 
 former place, the remainder start in two divisions, the one by 
 sea, the other by land, for La Pa^ On the landing of the 
 sea party, the strictest miUtary discipline is preserved. This 
 
 I" i 
 
250 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 precaution proves of no slight service. For the lawless and 
 still bloodthirsty savages, attack them on several successive 
 nights whh much skill and fury. A few are killed and several 
 wounded. At length the land party arrives. A portion of 
 these being mounted on horses, which the Indians suppose to 
 be tlie running gear of irresistible monsters topped with the 
 trunks and heads of men, so intimidate them that they flee 
 and are no more seen by night or by day for some time. At 
 length, however, a few re-appear and join the Padres' forces. 
 These protest that they have always been faithful, and have 
 consequently suffered much from the insurgents. They 
 declare that the rebels have committed some recent 
 atrocities upon the crew of a Philippine galleon. They report 
 the affair in this wise. The ship arrived there from Ma- 
 nilla with many of her crew sorely afflicted with scurvy ; and 
 as her signals were not answered from the mission, the cap- 
 tain sent the pinnace ashore with thirteen men to inform the 
 Padre of his presence. As the boat iieared the beach, the peo- 
 ple were surprised to see neither any person nor sign of life. 
 The greater part of them landed and walked toward the mission, 
 but on their way the armed Indians rushed upon them and 
 kiUed every man, or rendered him helpless, on the spot ! 
 Having murdered these, they hastened to the pinnace and find- 
 ing those who were left in charge of it no more guarded than 
 the other party had been, dispatched them also. They then 
 seized the pinnace and broke it up for the old iron, nails, 
 spikes, &c. While all this was going on the captain of the 
 galleon began to feel some anxiety at the long delay of his 
 pinnace, and sent a band of armed marines in the long boat 
 to see?: her. 
 
 A most unexpected and painful sight met the eyes of 
 these seamen when they reached the shore. Their pinnace 
 was surrounded by a swarm of leaping and furious savages. 
 It was already reduced to fragments ; and the dead bodies of 
 several of their companions lay upon the beach, trodden on 
 and mangled by their ruthless murderers. Dreadfully enraged 
 
1 1 
 
 TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIAS 
 
 251 
 
 
 f 
 
 on 
 ;ed 
 
 at this sight, the mariners and soldiers leaped ashore into the 
 thickest of their foes and gave them battle. A few minutes 
 with fire-arms settled the question of victory. Some of the 
 villains were wounded, some killed, and four captured alive 
 and taken on board the ship. The narrators saw the ship 
 leave her anchorage and stand away for the Pacific. They 
 know nothing more. It soon appears, however, that the 
 Captain left port without making any other attempt to pro- 
 cure water or provisions ; and having put into Acapulco, 
 sent his four prisoners and an account of the murder of his 
 crew to Mexico. The Viceroy now begins to appreciate the 
 importance of protecting the missions of California. The 
 lives of the Padres a short time before could not be pre- 
 served without a special warrant from Madrid. But as his 
 own credit at Court would suffer from the representations of 
 the officers of the galleon, it becomes a moral duty to quell 
 the insurrection. Accordingly he sends orders to the gover- 
 nor of Cinaloa to go over to the peninsula with a sufficient 
 body of men to restore peace, but directs him to act inde- 
 pendently of the Padres and never in subordination to the 
 Captain of the garrison. These measures of the Viceroy are 
 made known in California, and Padre Guillen, in order to 
 facilitate their execution, despatches the bilander for the 
 governor and his forces, and at the same time directs the Cap- 
 tain of the garrison to repair to Dolores, and there remain on 
 the defensive until further orders. 
 
 In due time the bilander returns. The governor is received 
 with great respect and joy by the Padres, and with the cus- 
 tomary honors by the garrison. He, however, soon shows 
 that he intends to reject all advice from the former and act in the 
 reduction of the country as he shall think proper. He there- 
 fore spends two years in raanoBuvering, and attempted hostili- 
 ties with a fugitive foe, whom he knows not how to bring 
 into a general engagement. At the close of the year 1736, 
 he is obliged to confess that he has effected nothing for the 
 suppression of the rebellion. 
 
252 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC 
 
 At this time the Padres lose one of their number — Padre 
 Julian de Mayorga, founder of the mission San Josef de Com- 
 mondo. He has ruled his mission ever since its origin, 1707, 
 greatly to the improvement and happiness of his Indians, 
 and in such manner as to win the respect and love of all who 
 knew him. His death, therefore, is a cause of deep grief to 
 his brethren and the Indians of his mission. But while they 
 lament for themselves that he is gone, they rejoice for him 
 that he rests from the turbulence and anxiety which have 
 been the portion of all for the last three years. 
 
 The governor becoming convinced that he can accomplish 
 nothing on his present plan of proceedings resolves to adopt 
 the Padres' advice, and take some steps which shall make 
 him a terror to the Indians. Accordingly he sets out with his 
 troops in earnest pursuit of them, and has the good fortune to 
 compel them to an action in which they are utterly vanquish- 
 ed. They have, however, been too long successful to be sub- 
 dued by one defeat. Instead, therefore, of making any 
 overtures of peace, they defy the governor and provoke his 
 wrath in a series of most annoying skirmishes. He accord- 
 ingly forces them to a second engagement, in which they are 
 again put to rout. Soon after, they submit and implore his 
 pardon. But he rejects all their advances until they deliver 
 up the leaders of the rebellion, especially those who have mur- 
 dered the Padres. It will be supposed that a severe punish- 
 ment was inflicted on these men. But the policy of the 
 governor and Padres in California is singularly unlike that 
 which prevails in the parent country. Here blood is never 
 shed by way of revenge or punishment. These rebels, there- 
 fore, who have perpetrated two of the most revolting murders 
 on record, beside the more common butcheries of their coun- 
 trymen and the crew of the galleon's pinnace, are tried and 
 banished to the coast of Mexico. On their way over, they rise 
 and attempt to take the bark. This compels the mariners to fire 
 on them and kill more than half their number. Among the 
 few that escape, are the two whose hands shed the blood of the 
 
 iflj 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIAS 
 
 253 
 
 the 
 the 
 
 venerable Padres. One of these two is, the next year, killed 
 in an affray ; and the other falls from the top of a palm tree 
 upon some rocks, and is so horribly mutilated and torn as to 
 be hardly recognizable. The remainder never return to their 
 country. Thus, after three years of trepidation and violence, 
 peace is restored to California. And it is chiefly attributable 
 to the prudence and forbearance of the Padres that the whole 
 peninsula has not been deluged with blood. 
 
 The refusal of the Viceroy in the first instance to protect 
 the missions without a special order from his sovereign, results 
 in a commission from his Majesty requiring him to erect a new 
 garrison at Cape San Lucas; and to take such other measures 
 as may be required to support the missions and maintain the 
 conquests of the Padres. This, like all other efforts of that 
 nation in similar matters, is made when the utility and neces- 
 sity of action is past. 
 
 The Governor of Cinaloa, however, proceeds to the execu- 
 tion of the order. The garrison is to be independent of the 
 Padres, and of the commanding officer at Loretto, and subject 
 only to orders from the Viceroy. The son of the venerable 
 Captain Don Estevan Roderiguez Lorenzo is appointed to the 
 command of the new post. He is a native of California, and 
 having been brought up by his father under the care of the 
 missionaries, and being pious, brave, prudent, and well ac- 
 quainted with the country, is admirably qualified to fill the 
 office. He has thirty soldiers under his command, ten of 
 whom he stations at the new camp of San Josef del Cabo, 
 ten at the mission of La Paz, and ten at that of San Jago de 
 los Coras. The young captain, however, is not thought to 
 act wuth sufficient indifference to the advice and opinions of 
 the Padres ; and is therefore soon displaced by a new man 
 from Mexico, Don Pedro Alvarez de Acevedo. At the same 
 time the Viceroy orders an accession of five soldiers to the 
 garrison of Loretto, and particularly directs that the whole 
 force shall be independent of the missionaries. They shall 
 act as an escort, indeed, during their journeyings, but while so 
 22 
 
 
254 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 I 
 
 ti 
 
 ': 'I* 
 
 doing, shall be under the cominand of their officer, and in no- 
 wise amenable to the Padres for neglect or disobedience ; nor 
 shall their entrance, discharge, or payment be in any way 
 supervised by them. 
 
 The disorder and inconvenience growing out of this regu- 
 lation, very soon become apparent. The missions are fre- 
 quently forsaken by the guar Is, the Padres have much diffi- 
 culty in procuring them as escorts in their visits to their pa- 
 rishioners ; the Indians are frequently oppressed by them 
 when distant from their captain ; and a system of trading and 
 chaffering commences between the soldiers and Indians, which 
 dissipates much that the Padres have labored to establish, and 
 seriously neutralizes their instructions and counsels. So much 
 evil, however, grows out of this new order of things, that at 
 the end of eighteen months the Viceroy abandons it ; puts the 
 new garrison under a lieutenant, subject to the captain at Lo- 
 retto, and makes these officers subordinate to the Padres. 
 
 As soon as affairs are thus established on a firm footing, the 
 Society of Jesus appoints new missionaries to gather the dis- 
 persed members of the ruined, missions. Meantime his Ma- 
 jesty, continuing to receive advices of the condition of Cali- 
 fornia both from the Viceroy and the Society, is induced not 
 only to order a new garrison, but to direct that ihe loss oc- 
 casioned by the rebellion shall be repaired from the Royal 
 treasury ; and also, that the Council of the Indies shall lay 
 before him the best plan for effectually reducing the Califor- 
 nias. Such means are deliberated upon, a plan for the accom- 
 plishment of these ends proposed, and orders for its execution 
 signed by his Majesty sent to the Viceroy on the thirteenth of 
 November, 1744. He is directed to proceed in the execution 
 of them without delay, and also to send further information. 
 
 The reply to these dispatches reaches Madrid after the 
 death of Philip V. and the accession of Ferdinand VI. His 
 Majesty is even more ardent than his predecessor ; and, upon 
 the information sent him, issues a more particular and full set 
 of instructions than any that have preceded them. He de- 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIAS 
 
 255 
 
 ^'V? 
 
 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 
 practicdlie j 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 ranche- 
 rias or towns, and the Padres attached to them. 
 
 I. Nuestra Senora de Loretto, in 25° 30', with the Royal 
 Garrison, and the place where the barks deliver their cargoes — 
 Padre Caspar de Truxillo. 
 
 II. San Xavier, Padre Miguel del Barco. 
 
 1. San Xavier, 25° 30'. 
 
 2. Santa Rosalia, 7 leagues W. 
 
 3. San Miguel, 8 " N. 
 
 4. San Augustine, 10 « S. E. 
 
 5. Dolores, 2 leagues E. 
 
 (B. San Pablo, 8 leagues N. W. 
 
 III. Nuestra Senora de los Dolores del Sur, formerly San 
 Juan Baptista Malibat, or Ligui— Padre Clement Guillen. 
 
 H 
 
 fi 
 
266 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 1. Nuestra Senora de los Dolores, 24° 30', 
 
 2. La Concepcion de Nuestra Sen<»a. 
 
 3. La Incarnacion. 
 
 4. La Santissima Trinidad. * 
 
 5. La Redempcion. 
 
 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, 26°. 
 
 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° 50'. 
 
 2. Santissima Trinidad, 6 leagues S. S. E. 
 
 3. San Marcos, 8 leagues N. 
 
 VII. 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 Ctastiege* 
 
 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 
 
 (C 
 
 (( 
 
 I 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIAS 
 
 257 
 
 8. Santa Lucia, 10 leagues. 
 
 9. Santa Nynfa, 5 " 
 
 X. Nuestra Senora de los Dolores del Norte — Padre Fer- 
 nando Consag. This mission is joined witA that of San Igna- 
 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°, 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 j 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 Tierra, 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 j 
 the discomfort, debasement, and misery of vice ; the quietness, 
 22* 
 
 1 
 
258 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 ;•! 
 
 I 
 III 
 
 j 
 
 ■ J 
 
 I' i: 
 
 elevation, and happiness of virtue j all these, the Padres have 
 scattered — seeds, bearing the fruits of the social and religious 
 relations, and the pumberless 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 J 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 tljese 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. They have left on 
 the cold fields of the past, every tie of kindred, and the natu- 
 ral hopes of humanity. They have taken li. 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 THE CALIFOnNIAS. 
 
 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 missionaries 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 of the Eastern tongues j 
 has chided and controlled the civil powers of Europe ; has 
 made the kingdoms of the whole earth feel its power. The 
 Pope himself holds liis thione at the sufferance of this mighty 
 association. The most profound learning of the age is found 
 in their colleges, and the most vigorous moral movements of 
 the times receive their life from them. 
 
 Whenever the sword of Conquest is drawn over the head of 
 the defenceless, the Jesuit's hand arrests its fall, or alleviates 
 its wound. In feet, on the American continent they have 
 spanned the whole breadth of human society, except that part 
 of it existing between the Alleghany mountains and the At- 
 lantic, and brought a large majority of the native population 
 under their control. In Paraguay indeed, they have organ- 
 ized armies, and established an Empire of their own ; and from 
 California to the mouth of the Rio dc la Plata, Spain holds 
 sway only so far as these priests permit. They protect the 
 savages against the ruthless cruelty of Spanish barbarity. 
 England in 1604 has expelled them from her dominions ; Ven- 
 ice in 1606, Portugal in 1757, France in 1764, Spain now in 
 1767, does the same. 
 
 That government would have the sole sway over the bones, 
 sinews and intellects of the Indians. Its worthless officials 
 would be unrestrained in the use of them, to dig for the pre- 
 cious metals, and work their plantations. The Jesuits have 
 prevented this. They have uniformly befriended the Indians 
 and elevated their bodily and mental condition. They have 
 so organized and enlightened them, that they can annihilate 
 the Spanish name from the continent, in a day. This state of 
 things is well known. A remedy is devised. Secret orders 
 of government are issued from Madrid to every Alcalde and 
 
 
 (If 
 
260 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC 
 
 military commandant in Spanish territory, to prepare ships and 
 other means of transport, and on a given day, nine months 
 from the date of the edict, to seize and ship to Italy every 
 Jesuit within its dominions. And so profoundly secret is this 
 measure kept, and so complete is its execution, that on the day 
 appointed, all the individuals of this order in Europe, Amer- 
 ica, and the Spanish islands, are on route, to the several ports 
 from which they are to sail for their destination. The worthy 
 Padres of California are now, therefore, taking leave of their 
 weeping converts. The whole land is sad. The services of 
 the churches are interrupted with their lamentations. The 
 poor savages crowd about the departing Padres for a blessing. 
 How shall they console their grief 1 Who shall love and la- 
 bor for them ? Who shall teach, pray for them, and rear them 
 step by step onward, to the high estate of a virtuous, enlight- 
 ened and religious people ? Alas, poor Indians ! from this day 
 onward, you return to vice, and fade away. 
 
 This is the history of the conquest of Lower California, by 
 the priests of the Catholic church. Religious men persuaded 
 the Indians into submission to the civil authorities of Spain. 
 
I' 
 
 i- 
 m 
 t- 
 
 >y 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Padre Junipero Serra — An Expedition by Sea, for the Conquest of 
 Upper California — Arrival at Loretto— Expeditions by sea and land 
 to the North — Arrivals at Sau Diego — Ceremonies of Founding a 
 Mission — A Battle — Going Northward — Naming the bay of San 
 Francisco— Return to San Diego — The Resolution of Padre Juni- 
 pero — An Arrival — Departure for Monterey — Founding a Mission, 
 &c. — Arrival of thirty Monks — Other Missions Established — Padre 
 Junipero goes to Mexico — Great Scarcity of Food — Padre Junipero 
 returns by Sea — A Land Party from Mexico — Exploration to 
 55° N.— A Diabolical Plot at San Diego— A Dreadful Battle at 
 Night — Death — Mission Destroyed— San Juan Capistrano — Mission 
 and Presidio of San Francisco Founded— Death of Padre Junipero — 
 Number of Missions in Upper California — Dates of their Establish- 
 ment — Progress, Wealth and Influence of Missions — Mexican Revo- 
 lution — General Echeandra arrives in California— Measures taken 
 to destroy the Missions — A Revolution — California Independent — 
 Declaration of Rights — Alvarado and Villejo — Jose Castro — Don 
 Carlos Antonio Carrello — Domestic War among Californian Free- 
 men — Operations of the Grand Armies of the North and South— 
 A Victory of Noses — Return of Upper California to the Mexican 
 Dominion. 
 
 As related in my account of Lower California, the Jesuits, 
 who have brought the Indians of the territory into subjection 
 to Spain, and induced them to embrace the Catholic faith, have, 
 in 1767, been expelled from these' scenes of their usefulness. 
 And now, that the influence of this powerful society is pros- 
 trated, the Government turns its attention to the conquest of 
 the country by the employment of another religious order, 
 who are supposed to be more subservient to the dictates of 
 the civil authority. 
 
 In 1768, Padre Junipero Serra, a Franciscan monk, is ap- 
 
 
262 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC 
 
 pointed Missionary President of the Californium, and arrives at 
 San Bias in the month of February of this year, accompan ed 
 by a staff of sixteen brothers of his own order, from the Con- 
 vent of San Fernando. Htre he meets sixteen of the ex- 
 pelled Jesuits, in sorrow that their forsaken flocks must return 
 to the misery of the savage state. These raen have labored 
 long to plant the tree of life in the rude soil of the savage 
 heart ; it has begur, to put forth its branches to the sun, and 
 shed its odors over the land ; but while the fruits of their 
 trials are being garnered, they have been compelled to retire 
 from the harvest, and leave others to reap or despoil. 
 
 On the twelith of March, 1768, Padre Junipero and h!i 
 associates sail for Loretto in the same vessel which has 
 brought the Jesuits thence, and arrive there in safety about 
 the middle of the following month. Padre Junipero is a 
 worthy successor of those great and self-denying men who 
 have preceded him in this field of martyrdom. His own pe- 
 culiar faith in religious things is warm and far-reaching. He 
 sees on the barren heights of the Californian peninsula, many 
 a dwelUng-place of righteousness for future generations ; and 
 hears in the solemn midnight, the voices of angels en- 
 couraging him to his work. The miracles wrought in the 
 days of the primitive church, he believes may still be wrought 
 by the saints militant • and that the mighty arm of faith will 
 yet brmg down Omnipotence, to mould anev/ the distorted 
 world. He unites witi^ his zeal various and extensive learning. 
 The ancient and modern languages, v/ith all their stores of 
 philosophy and eloquence, are known to him. The life of 
 courts — the sweets of the social ties — the vast and stirring 
 acts of the world moving 0)i to its civil and religious desti- 
 nies, are familiar to him, for he has minglet! ^vith them, di- 
 rected and enjoyed them. Yet Padre Junipero has landed in 
 the wilderness of California, and begins the duties of a mis- 
 sionary among its Indians ! 
 
 He dispatches his brethren to the several missions north 
 and south, and reiaains at Loretto awaiting the arrival of 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIFOnNIAS 
 
 263 
 
 Josef Galvoz, the Visitador General, whose commands are to 
 guide him in his labors. This dignitar}' arrives at La Paz in 
 July, with orders from his superiors to visit the missioas in 
 Lower California, to superintend expeditions about to b** 
 dispatched to San Diigo and Monterey in the upper pro- 
 vince, for the establishment of missions and forts. Soon the 
 three packet boats of this undertaking arrive. They are called 
 the San Bias, San Cail s and San Antonio. In them are 
 provisions, agricultural implements, and seeds of Spanish and 
 Mexican grains, fruits ani] esculent roots, to be planted at 
 the contemplated establishments. They will need cattle, 
 horses and mules. A party therefore is organized to drive 
 tli"Le over the country to Monterey. The San Carlos is ready 
 hr sea, and the Visitador General fixes the day for her de- 
 parture. In this vessel is Don Vincent Vital, Commander, 
 Don Pedro Prat, Lieutenant, twenty-five Catalonian volun- 
 teers, a good ship's crew, and Padre Fernando Parron. Death 
 has visited the Spanish vessels in these seas ever since Cortez' 
 iron prow ruffled them. In all the north the freezing 
 hand of the Great Destroyer is seen ! No living men on 
 board the San Carlos t'are unfurl the canvas till heaven is ap- 
 peased. The red cross is therefore raised to the peak, the 
 orange flag of Spaii: floats beneath it ; and the crew and the 
 soldiers and oihcers, and priests with shaven crowns, are 
 gathered on th deck ; the holy sacrament is adn^ini&terod by 
 Padre Juniperc ; and Mass is .said to Son Josef, the chosen 
 patron of these expeditions : the vessel and colors are blessed ; 
 an absolution and benediction administered to the people; 
 and the vessel San Carlos leaves the ha>bor of Loretto on the 
 nmth of January, 1769, on her voyage to Upper California. 
 The San Anionic sails from Cape San Luciis on the fifteenth 
 of the following month. Her commander is Don Jiian Perez. 
 She has o:i board Padres Juan Biscayno and Fran< is<o Go- 
 mez, and her crew. The San Josef leaves Loretto on the 
 sixteenth of June of the same year. 
 
 Meanwhile the land expedition is being forwarded with all 
 
264 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC 
 
 1 u 
 
 5 't'i 
 
 ■ i 
 
 possible dispatch. It is divided into two companies ; so that 
 if one of them shall be destroyed, the other may chance to be 
 saved. Don Gasper de Portala is the commissioned Governor of 
 the Californias and commander of this land expedition. He is 
 a captain of dragoons in the Spanish army. Captain Fernando 
 Rivera y Moncada is his second. The latter receives command 
 of the first division of the landsmen ; and in the month of Sep- 
 tember, 1768, takes up his line of march for the north. He soon 
 arrives at a place now called Nuestra Senora de los Angelos, 
 on the Indian frontier, and having found some supplies and 
 baggage, sent in launches from the missions to this place, he 
 proceeds eighteen leagues northward, to a valley of excellent 
 pastures, wood and water, and hglts. Here he remains until 
 the first day of March, 1769, and again marches northward, 
 until the twenty-fourth of the same month, when he arrives at 
 the port of San Diego, in latitude 32° N. Here he finds the 
 San (/arlos and San Antonio at anchor. These vessels have 
 suffered greatly from storms and contrary winds. The first 
 arrived on the first of May, 1768. Her whole people, except 
 the officers, cook, and one seaman, have died of the scurvy 
 and thirst and hunger. The San Anionio arrived on the 
 eleventh of April, having lost eight of her crew by the scurvy. 
 The San Josef was not seen after she left Loretto. Don 
 Rivera y Moncada, his twenty -five soldiers, his three mule- 
 teers and his converted Indians, Padre Crispi and a midship- 
 man, now form a camp upon the green plain, and rest from 
 the fatigues of a march of fifty-four days, over the dry crags 
 of the Caiifornian wilderress. 
 
 The second part of the land expedition, with its mules, 
 horsfs, black cattle, muleteers and baggage, on the thirteenth 
 of May, 1769, arc at a place called Villacata ; and Padre 
 Junipero and the Governor are with them. They are waiting 
 the arrival of the troops ; and while thus unemployed, ex- 
 amine the surrounding country — find it valuable, and conse- 
 crate it to the use of the mission in the neighborhood called 
 Snn Francisco de Borja ; and hither this mission is to be 
 
 3 
 
 I 
 
 i 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIAS. 
 
 265 
 
 \^i3j 
 
 removed. The ceremony of consecrating the location of this 
 mission is worthy of being known. The soldiers and mule- 
 teers clear away the rubbish from the future site of the church 
 — hang seven bells upon the trees, and form a grand cross. 
 This is the work of the first day. On the second, Padre Ju- 
 nipero, invested in robes, blesses the holy water, and with 
 it sprinkles the site of the church and the cross. The latter, 
 adorned with flowers, is then erected in irot\t of the conse- 
 crated area. This i i then receives its name, San Josef. 
 The first Mass is now c; ited — and Padre Junipero pronoun- 
 ces a discourse upon the coming of the Holy Ghost. The 
 sacrifice of the Mass is now conckulcd, and Veni Creator is 
 sung. In the progress of all this there is a constant dis- 
 charge of musketry. The smoke of the burning powder is 
 the only incense from the mountain altars of this day's wor- 
 ship. 
 
 They leave Vellacata on the 15th of May, 1769, and direct 
 their course northwardly towards the mouth of the Colorado ; 
 but after travelling above thirty-five leagues, their progress is 
 intercepted by a steep and rocky mountain, over which 
 their cattle cannot pass. They therefore return southward as 
 far as the frontier mission, San Borj.i. Having rested them- 
 selves and their animals a few days, ihey take a route in a 
 north-westerly direction. Forty-six days do they travel. 
 The southern half of their way passes through a sterile rocky 
 country with occasional fruitful valleys skirted with timber. 
 The northern half is plentifully supplifxi with streams of water 
 running among rich savannas clothed with the wild gra ", 
 roses, and vines bearing a large sour grape. The timber is 
 not abundant — but on the hills the deep loamy soil frequently 
 produces the live oak and other valuable trees, and the vales 
 which run up from the seaside, are often clad with heavy 
 forests. Many Indians meet them. The males, both old and 
 young, are entirely naked, while the females of all ages are 
 covered with rush mats and skins from their breasts down- 
 ward. Their food consists of seeds, fi'uits, and fish. They 
 23 
 
 N 
 
266 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 f' 
 
 K- • 
 
 ( 
 
 are uniformly familiar and friendly. On the first day of July 
 they pitch their camp on the beach among their coui..rymen, 
 at the long-sought port of San Diego. 
 
 As the crews of the vessels have been thinned by death, 
 till there are scarcely enough to man one of them, they 
 cannot proceed farther north without recruits. Accord* 
 ingly the remaining members of both crews are put on board 
 the San Antonio, and the ship dispatched to San Bias for 
 more seamen. It is also determined that the Governor shall 
 lead the principal part of the landsmen along the shoic to 
 Monterey. The Padre's President and two missionaries and 
 eight soldiers are therefore detached to remain at the newly 
 consecrated mission of San Diego ; and Don Gasper Portala, 
 the Governor, with one servant, the Padres Juan Crispi and 
 Francisco Gomez, with each a converted Indian to attend on 
 him, and Don Fernando Rivera y Moncada with his sergeant 
 and twenty-six soldiers , and his lieutenant Don Pedro Foxes, 
 with seven Catalonian soldiers, and Don Miguel Constanzo, 
 engineer, and seven muleteers and fifteen Indians from the 
 southern missions, start over land to Monterey. They search 
 the coast for bays and harbors, examine the lands and their 
 products, pass the harbor of Monterey without recognizing it, 
 go north to the Bay now called San Francisco, and give it 
 that name under the following circumstances: — When the 
 Padre President, Junipero, received orders from the Visitador 
 General respecting the names of the new missions which he 
 was sent northward to found, perceiving that the name of the 
 Patron Saint of his order of priests was not among them, said, 
 " And is our Father San Francisco to have no mission assign- 
 ed to him ?" To which the Visitador replied, "If San Fran- 
 cisco wishes to have a mission, let him show you a good port, 
 and then it shall bear his name." When the Monterey expe- 
 dition, therefore, see this unequalled bay, they exclaim, 
 " This is the port to which the Visitador rifcrred, and to 
 which the Saint has led us," and immediately called the bay 
 Bajia del San Francisco. They now erect a cross on the 
 
T r. A V n L P IN T fl E C A L I F U > I A S 
 
 267 
 
 western shore of the soi'.thern great arm of this bay, and hav- 
 ing taken possession of the country in the name of their sove- 
 reign, celebrate the Mass, commence their return to San 
 Diego, and arrive there on the twenty-fourth of January, 
 1770. 
 
 During the half year occupied by this expedition, the Pa- 
 dre President Junipero is not idle at San Diego. On the six- 
 teenth day of July, 1769, he consecrates the foundation of a 
 mission. This is the day of the year, when in 1212, the 
 Spaniards, under the banner of the cross, prostrated the power 
 of the Mahoraedans in the south of Spain; and the good 
 Padre Junipero hopes that the same banner shall yet wave 
 over the Gentiles of Upper California. He chants the Mass, 
 celebrates the triumph of the Holy Cross, sprinkles the ground 
 with the baptismal water of the Church, and calls it San 
 Diego, or Saint James. Afterwards he dedicates one of their 
 huts to the use of a temporary church, and invites the Indians 
 to attend service ; presents them food which they reject ; 
 gives them small pieces of cloth with which they are greatly 
 delighted ; yet they cannot Ix" persuaded to bow before the 
 cross, and gladden the Padre's heart by embracing the Catho- 
 lic faith ; but on the contrary, they allow their desire for rloth 
 to induce them in the night time to go on large rafts built of 
 bulrushes to the ship San Carlos, and purloin a part of her 
 sails. This act is followed by precautions to prevent its repe- 
 tition ; yet as no punishment is indicted on the thieves, they 
 arm themselves with bows and arrows, wooden swords of keen 
 edge, and formidable clubs, and begin to steal so boldly that 
 the Spaniards find it necessary to oppose them by force ; and as 
 soon as their determination to do so is manifested, the Indians 
 resolve to accomplish their desitins by war. On the thirteenth 
 and fov.rteenth days of August, therefore, they ibrce their way 
 into tne quarters of the people and carry olf several garments 
 and other valuables ; but are driven away wilhour. iin attempt 
 to kill any of them. On the titteenth, it becomes necessary for 
 Padre Fernando to sjo on board the San Carlos to celebrate 
 
 1. 1 
 
268 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC 
 
 the Mass with two soldiers who guard the ship. Padres Ju- 
 niper© and Biscayno are left on shore with only two other 
 persons able to do duty j and the Indians, perceiving the advan- 
 tage to be derived from the absence of one of the boldest of 
 those they would rob, gather in large numbers while the 
 people are at Mass, and begin to carry away everything they 
 find, even the sheets that cover the sick ! The corporal calls 
 " to arntB !" whereupon the Indians retire a short distance and 
 shoot their arrows. And now the four soldiers, the carpenter 
 and blacksmith commence firing their guns. The latter, 
 although he has no armor to protect him from the arrows, 
 charges upon the savages, crying out, " Long live the faith 
 of Jesus Christ, and die the dogs his enemies !" Meantime 
 the Padre President Junipero is praying that none may be 
 hurried to the world of spirits with their sins unforgiven. 
 The battle rages on, accompanied by the terrible war-cry of 
 the savages. An arrow takes effect ; a boy called Josef runs 
 in great haste and prostrates himself at the Padre's feet, ex- 
 claiming, " Father, give me absolution, for the Indians have 
 killed me." The Padre absolves him. The arrow has passed 
 through his throat ; and he immediately dies ! His death is 
 kept secret and the battle continues. Many of the savages 
 fall. They drag away their dead and dying, till at length, 
 panic-smitten by the destructive effects of fire-arms, they flee 
 to the hills in great precipitation ! 
 
 It cannot be known how many of these savages have 
 perished by this mad act. Very many are known to be 
 wounded ; for in a few days their friends bring them into the 
 mission and entreat the Padres to cure them : and the sufgeon 
 and the Padres treat them kindly till restored to health 
 
 Padre Biscayno, one soldier, an Indian Christian, and the 
 brnvu blacksmith are wounded ; but in a short time all the 
 whitcN, except the poor boy Josef, are well again. This un- 
 successiul attack has a salutary etfect on the Indians. They 
 come fearfully into the mission every day, and treat the Padres 
 and the religion they teach with deference. A boy about 
 
 I 
 
 
 
 \ 
 e 
 
 s 
 
 II 
 
 F 
 
 t 
 
T U A V L L S IN THE C A L I F O U N I A S 
 
 269 
 
 fifteen years old is among the most frequent and devout. Him 
 the Padre President teaches the Spanish language, in order 
 tliat he may learn the prayers and catechism, and act as inter- 
 preter. He learns easily, and is soon able to inform his coun- 
 trymen that the Padre desires to baptize their children, and 
 instruct them in the Catholic faith. One is selected from 
 the many which are offered, and the holy water is about to 
 fall from the Padre's hand, when the parents of the child 
 snatch it away, to the great grief of the Padre and the indig- 
 nation of the soldiers. The latter in their zeal ask permission 
 to destroy these blaspheming gentiles. The gooil Junipero 
 denies them. 
 
 Distress follows these Franciscans as it has the Jesuits. The 
 country is unploughed and yields little food. The San Antonio 
 has gone to San Bias for supplies ; but heaven only knows if 
 the storms will spare her to save them fiom starvation. She 
 has already been absent so long that they begin to fear she is 
 lost. The Governor, therefore, orders an account to be tak- 
 en of the provisions on hand, and notifies the Padre Presi- 
 dent that they can hold out no longer than March following ; 
 and that if the ship should not arrive by San Josefs day, the 
 twenty-fifth of that month, he shall abandon the enterprise, and 
 commence his return to Loretto. This announcement greatly 
 afflicts the Padre Junipero. Leaving the country he feels will 
 carry with it for a long time to come, the abandonment of the 
 Indians to their heathenism ; and he retires to his closet and 
 implores aid from Heaven. God is his master; from Him he 
 seeks ligiit. San Josef is the Patron Saint of his holy enter- 
 prise ; from him he seeks celestial intercessions with the Ruler 
 of events. The conversion of the Gentiles is the work 
 which burdens his heart; and he holds the cross toward Heav- 
 en and vows never to leave California till he has thrust the 
 spiritual plough into the glebe of its moral wastes. He com- 
 municates his resolution to the Governor, and awaits the ap- 
 proach of th(i eventful day with the greatest solicitude. The 
 twenty-fifth of M»rch at last comes. The Padre greets its dawn- 
 
270 
 
 SCENKS IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 n 
 
 > * 
 
 " !' 
 
 ti 
 
 ing light with the chants of the Mass, and the celebration of 
 the most sacred services of the church. The people are called 
 together at mid-day, and prayers arc most devoutly said and 
 praises again sung to the Creator. 
 
 The good Padre speaks. He draws an exhortation from the 
 Laws of God. He exhorts as one soon to be left alone in a 
 land of martyrdom. He ceases ; he blesses; and the tide of 
 thought and emotion is now setting upon the busy movements 
 of the departure for Lorctto, when lo ! in the offing is per- 
 ceived the outline of a vessel standing towards the land ! 
 Was it an omen ! shadowtd on the rim of the sky to arouse 
 faith in God ? It disappears during the night ! The sun rises 
 and sets over the hot seas three times afterwards, and it does 
 not re-appear! The fourth day dawns and waxes to the me- 
 ridian, and wanes on the western waves! And when night 
 shuts in, the cable of the San Antonio rattles its rude saluta- 
 tion to the silent shores around the Bay of San Diego ! 
 
 On the arrival of this ship with provisions and a recruit of 
 men, it is determined to make another expedition to Monterey. 
 A party by land and another by sea, are detailed for the under- 
 taking. Both leave San Diego, about the middle of April, 1770. 
 Long and tedious are the voyages of these infant days of navi- 
 gation. Forty-six days are spent by the San Antonio in 
 making 4*^ of latitude. On the thirty-first of May, how- 
 ever, Padre Junipero with joy beholds from the ship the green 
 hills around the bay of Monterey. The anchor is let into the 
 waters, the boats are lowered, they shoot away to the shore ; 
 the land expedition having arrived eight days before, meet their 
 coimtrymen on the rocks at the beach. The first and second 
 of June are spent in that hearty social intercourse, which 
 those alone ever feel who have thrown their hearts for months 
 on the cold breast of the wilderness. Dangers incurred, suf- 
 ferings endured on rock and surge, remembrances of the sa- 
 cred past, the sensations of dawning joy crowding on past mis- 
 ery like day on the heels of night, cluster around the mind and 
 bid the affections increase the pulsations of life. On the third 
 
 
f. 
 
 TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIAS 
 
 271 
 
 
 of June, they celebrate their landing. It is Pentecost day. 
 The officers and men of the sea and land expeditions assemble 
 under a great oak tree near the shore. They erect an altar in 
 its shade, hang bells on its branches, and proceed with their 
 services. They chant Veni Creator^ consecrate the water, erect 
 and bless a grand cross, unfurl the royal standard, chant the 
 Mass, and sing a Salve to the Virgin, whose image occupies 
 the altar. And after the Padre Junipero has delivered a pa- 
 thetic discourse, a solemn Te Deum is sung to the Great Cre- 
 ator. The officers now take formal possession of the country 
 in the name of their king. These ceremonies being completed, 
 they repair to a shady place on the beach and dine, as they 
 have worshipped, amid salutes of small arms, and the cannon 
 of the vessels. Thus is commenced the settlement of Mon- 
 terey, in Upper California. All thi ■ done, the Padre President 
 proceeds to found the mission of Monterey, in the same man- 
 ner as he has done that at San Diego. But he finds it more 
 difficult to induce the Indians to avail themselves of his teach- 
 ings. The firing of the artillery and muskets at the celebra- 
 tion of the first Mass, has so terrified them, that the heart of 
 the excellent Padre is not frladdened by "a baptism, till the 
 twenty-sixth of the following December. 
 
 Meanwhile the ship San Antonio being detained some time 
 at Monterey, the Padre President is enabled to explore portions 
 of the neighboring country. He finds the fertile soil so abun- 
 dant and the natives so numerous, that he writes to the chief 
 of the College of San Fernando in Mexico, that a hundred 
 more missionaries may be well employed in the Californias. 
 This favorable account of the country induces the Viceroy at 
 Mexico to order thirty Franciscan monks to proceed to San 
 Bias — twenty of whom are destined for Lower and ten for 
 Upper California. The latter sail from San Bias in the San 
 Antonio, on the seventh of January, 1771, and on the twelfth 
 of March, put into San Diego, sorely afflicted with the scurvy 
 They go overland to Monterey. The monks destined for 
 
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 'i\ 
 
 1'^ 1 
 
272 
 
 SCENES IN THE P A C I !• I C , 
 
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 Lower California are less fortunate. Their ship, the San Carlos, 
 is allowed by its unworthy commander to drift ashore, in the 
 Port Mansanillo, a fine harbor lying some distance south from 
 San Bias ; and the poor friars, left to shift for themselves, are 
 compelled to toil over three hundred leagues of rough, path- 
 less, uninhabited coast along the ocean and gulf, till they find 
 tht.nselves on the coast of Senora opposite to Loretto. They 
 cross the gulf to Loretto, thither the San Carlos follows 
 them in the month of August, having been eight months at 
 sea, between two ports which are now but five or six days' 
 sail apart. 
 
 The reinforcement to Upper California enables the presid- 
 ing Padre to found a new mission which he dedicates to San 
 Antonio de Padua. This station is built among the green 
 hills of Santa Lucia, about eight leagues from tho Pacific coast 
 and twenty from Monterey. The grounds are broken and the 
 seed sown ; but a blighting and untimely frost comes and the 
 total loss of the wheat is threatened. The Indians are dis- 
 heartened and still more so the Padres, who anticipate with 
 keen forebodings the loss of their bread. They send the Chris- 
 tian Indians to the woods to gather seeds, roots, fruits, &c., for 
 their subsistence, as in former times has been their custom. 
 The Padres strengthen their own and the Indians' faith, by a 
 firm reliance on *heir patron saint ; and to conciliate his high- 
 est favor, they resolve to celebrate his Novena with all their 
 converts. At the same time they take the more business-like 
 precaution of irrigatinij the blighted field ; and in a few 
 days, such is the efficacy of the water, and still more, as they 
 believe, their prayers, that the resuscitated grain field is 
 seen springing into new life. At the end of the Novena, the 
 whole field is covered with beauty and promise, and at harvest 
 yields more abundantly than was ever before known. This 
 encourages the new converts, and kindles the gratitude of the 
 Padres. Meanwhile new efforts are resolved on in San Diego ; 
 and on the tenth of August, Padre Pedro Cambon and Padre 
 Angel Somera, with a detachment of ten soldiers and the re- 
 
T R A V K I. S IN THE C A f. I F R N I A 8 , 
 
 273 
 
 qulsite number of mules and drivers, set out and travel north- 
 wardly. When they arrive at the river Terablores, about forty 
 leagues from San Diego, and while they are seeking a desira- 
 ble site for their mission, the Indians, armed and led on by 
 two commanders, rush from their lutking-places with dread- 
 ful yells and the most unecjuivocal demonstrations of hostility. 
 The Padres dread bloodshed. They exalt the image of " Our 
 Lady ;" the subdued savages prostrate themselves in crowds 
 around the standard ; allow them without interruption to pro- 
 ceed with the solemn ceremonies of founding the mission of 
 San Gabriel ; and the swelling notes of the first Mass chanted 
 in these solitudes, mount to the ear of the Omnipotent in the 
 year 1771, from a little group consisting of the Padres, the 
 rude soldiers, the careless muleteers and wandering Indians, 
 gathered under the spreading boughs of a tree on the conse- 
 crated ground, just as the sun is rising to bring the anniversary 
 of the nativity of the Virgin. 
 
 The Padres have now divided their forces as much as 
 practicable. No more missions can be founded till help ar- 
 rives from Mexico ; and oppressed with care, labor, hunger, 
 and anxiety, lest the Indians should relapse into their hea- 
 thenish >**lief and practices, they remain with little to en- 
 courage their minds, or strengthen their fainting hearts, until 
 the autumn of 1772, when Padre Junipero founds the mission 
 San Luis Obispo de Tolozo, nnd in November embarks at San 
 Diego ^or Mexico. There ^ struggles with the Viceroy 
 Bucareli to prevent him, if pos:>ii<le, from abandoning the port 
 of San Bias as a naval station ; and so successfully presents 
 the ca^e of the infant missions to him that he is induced to 
 finish a frigate which has Leon begun at San Bias, for the 
 purpose of exploring the coast of Upper California, and 
 also to freight a packet boat with provisions for Monterey. 
 But again these navigators, on whose skill so much depends for 
 the comfort and sustaining of the missions, fail through igno- 
 rance, negligence, or misfortune, to reach the port of destina- 
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 »'jdder, and otherwise disabled from proceeding on her voyage. 
 So that the good Padres, with their ignorant, helpless de- 
 pendents, are doomed to another tedions famine. For eight 
 months they subsist almost exclusively on a scanty supply of 
 milk. But in the meantime, food and aid and kind hearts are 
 on their way to them from Mexico. The indefatigable Padre 
 Junipero toils faithfully till September, 1773, when, with 
 missionaries, officers, soldiers, and a large supply of necessa- 
 ries, consisting of maize, beans, flour and clothing, to the 
 value of $12,000, he joyfully embarks for Cahfornia. He 
 has also procured the despatch of an expedition, under the 
 command of Captain Juan Bautista Anza, through the interior 
 by the rivers Gila and Colorado, in order that the disasters 
 by sea which have so often overwhelmed the missions with 
 disappointment, famine and despair, may in future be averted. 
 The good Padre himself proceeds to San Bias, and freighting 
 the packet San Antonio and the new frigate Santiago with 
 his supplies, embarks on his return in January of 1774, and 
 after forty-nine days' sail puts into San Diego. 
 
 Monterey is the place of destination; and Padre Juni- 
 per proceeds thither over land, that he may visit the various 
 missions on his route. Anza's land expedition is there : and 
 the Padre rejoices to learn that there is no obstacle to a land 
 communication between Mexico and Monterey. But the 
 pleasure arising from this discovery is greatly lessened by the 
 announcement that there are no provisions among the people, 
 and that famine is rapidly wasting the energies and hopes of 
 his new establishments. The good man's heart is wrung by 
 this tale of suffering, and he hastens on with a few supplies ; 
 but finds at his arrival on th i eleventh of May, that the 
 frigate he left in San Diego is two days in advance of him, 
 and that the hungry are already fed. Joy and welcome every- 
 where meet the Padre President ; the Friars hail him as a 
 loved brother and strong companion ; the poor Indians as a 
 father and protector. Thus strengthened and encouraged, the 
 
TRAVELS IN THE C A L I F R N I A S . 
 
 276 
 
 laborers of the cross toil on. Meantime the frigate, which is 
 under orders from the Viceroy to explore the northwest coast, 
 departs from Monterey on the eleventh of June, proceeds as 
 far as Lat. 55° N., and finds an inlet which they name Santa 
 Margarita, and returns. In March of the next year, she makes 
 another expedition, accompanied by a schooner under the 
 command of Bodega, afterwards the friend of Vancouver. 
 As these vessels, however, are separated in a gale on the 
 thirtieth of July, the frigate proceeds to Lat. 49° N., 
 and puts back in search of the lost schooner; arriving 
 at Monterey on the twentieth of August, she finds her 
 consort riding at anchor in the bay. The failure of these ex- 
 peditic ns seems rather to stimulate than cool the enterprise of 
 the Viceroy. He orders a new frigate to be built at San Bias, 
 and sends a naval officer to Peru to purchase a vessel to ac 
 company her over these vexed waters. These vessels sail 
 from San Bias on the twelfth of February, 1779, under com- 
 mand of Don Ignatio Artiago. Two missionaries from the 
 Convent of San Fernando accompany the expedition. The 
 object of the voyage is to discover a water passage from the 
 Pacific to the Atlantic. They reach Lat. 55° N. on the third 
 of June, and discover a strait which they call Bucareli. Here 
 they look in vain for a passage eastward ; and about the first 
 of July proceed still farther northward. On the first of Au- 
 gust, in about Lat. 60° N., they discover a large and safi- 
 harbor, with abundance of wood, water, and fish. This they 
 name Santiago ; and after spending several days in searching 
 an inconsiderable creek for the passage, the prudent com- 
 mander, finding his crew infected with the scurvy to an alarm- 
 ing degree, and dreading the rigor of the advancing season,, 
 resolves to return. Accordingly he sails southward, and on 
 the fifteenth of September, 1779, safely moors his little fleet in 
 the harbor of San Fernando. The return of this expedition 
 is hailed as a momentous event in the progress of the conquest. 
 While the civil arm is thus extending itself over the unex- 
 plored wilderness, the spiritual warriors lose none of their 
 
 ;> 
 
 '." s 
 
 : I 
 
276 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 ardor. The accession of laborers and the abundant supplies 
 brought by the Padre President enable the missionaries to 
 prosecute their holy enterprise with renewed energy. New 
 missions are founded, the old ones zealously advanced. Con- 
 verts are added to the flock, and everything encourages 
 the hearts of the lonely self-sacrificing Padres. In the 
 fall of the year, 1775, however, a most diabolical plot is laid 
 and partly executed by the unconverted Indians aided by two 
 apostates, for attacking San Diego, and murdering the mis- 
 sionaries and other white persons. The onset is made in the 
 dead of night, by two strong bands of armed savages ; and 
 the good Padres, all unprepared for defence as they are, with 
 their feeble force of a few soldiers and mechanics, have but 
 a small chance of escape. One of them, the Padre Luis, is 
 cruelly murdered and chopped in pieces, and Padre Vincente 
 is dangerously wounded. A whole night is spent in this pre- 
 carious defence, and at sunrise the Indians retire, carrying 
 away their dead and wounded. All the whites are wounded, 
 some of their buildings are burned, and their peaceful in- 
 tercourse with the Indians is sadly interrupted. 
 
 The Padre President at Monterey hears of this calamity, and 
 resolves to proceed at once to San Diego to repair, as he best 
 may, the misfortunes of his brethren. He is prevented from 
 reaching them until June of the following year ; when with 
 the aid of the crew of the Princesa, he re-builds the burned 
 tenements, and by his influence renews the amicable inter- 
 course of the mission with the natives. On his return, he 
 founds the mission of San Juan Capisirano. Here he is at- 
 tacked by hostile Indians. But he escapes all dangers, en- 
 dures all trials, and on reaching Monterey, prepares to establish 
 the mission of San Francisco, on the bay of that name. Great 
 preparations are made for this event. Supplies are sent to 
 the harbor of San Francisco in one of the packiet boats, and 
 the good Padre with a small detachment of soldiers, and a 
 number of families with cattle and mules for the new mission, 
 leaves Monterey on the seventeenth of June, 1776. Ten days 
 
TRAVELS IN' THE CALIFORNIAS 
 
 277 
 
 ys 
 
 pass, and they arrive near the proposed site of their future 
 home on the banks of a beautiful lake near one of the arms 
 of the bay, select a situation for the Presidio, and cut the tim- 
 ber to erect it. The natives, meanwhile, throng around to 
 witness their labors and make demonstrations of friendship. 
 The vessel arrives on the eighteenth of August. The work 
 progresses, and on the seventeenth of September, they take 
 solemn possession of the new garrison. The holy cross is 
 planted above the peaceful waters of the bay, and the silent 
 hills re-echo the chanting of the Mass, the sublime Te Deum 
 and the roar of artillery and musketry, announcing to the 
 untamed tenants of the wilderness, the dominion at once of 
 the cross and the sword. The same ceremonies attend the tak- 
 ing possession of the mission on the ninth of the following 
 November. These objects accomplished, the vessel returns 
 to San Bias. 
 
 The faithful Padre Junipero continues his labors without 
 ceasing, founding in addition to the missions already named, 
 those of Santa Clara, Santa Barbara, and San Buenaventura. 
 But his efforts draw to a close. He has thrown the gushing 
 energies of a warm and kind heart upon the arid wilderness. 
 Solitude, famine, heat and cold, thirst and hunger, have been 
 welcome as the sole conditions under which he could perform 
 his errand of mercy and love to the red man. And now that 
 the holy cross which his hands have planted, gleams heaven- 
 ward from the dark bosom of these wastes, and devotion 
 blends its gentle tones with the harsher poeans of the winds 
 and waves, and the voices of human industry, the good Padre, 
 worn out with the fatigues and anxieties of his arduous post, 
 must prepare to rest from his labors. The hand of age is 
 upon him j his head whitens ; his frame bends and trembles ; 
 his steps falter ; he leans upon his younger and more vigor- 
 ous brethren for support ; and at last his grateful and beloved 
 spiritual children, the sons of the forest, see him no more. He 
 retires to die. His heart clings to those who have so long 
 lived under the protection of his fostering hand, and the last 
 24 
 
 I 
 
 i:.! 
 
 *;! 
 
 f! 
 
278 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC 
 
 beating of life mingles with a prayer for blessings on his in- 
 fant missions. The bereaved Friars watch his last breath and 
 close his eyes on the day of San Augustine, in the year 1782. 
 His life has been nearly seventy-one years long ; fifty-three 
 of which have been spent in holy orders, thirty-five in the 
 stern and trying duties of a missionary in the New World. 
 Thus closed the life and earthly labors of Padre Junipero. 
 
 NAMES OF MISSIONS, AND 
 
 DATES OF THEIR FOUNDATION. 
 
 Date of Foundation. 
 
 
 
 Missions. 
 
 1769, 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 San Diego, [dc Monterey. 
 
 1770, 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 San Carmelo, or San Carlos 
 
 1771, 
 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 San Gabriel. 
 
 (( 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 San Antonio de Padua. 
 
 1772, 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 San Luis Obispo. 
 
 1776, 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 San Juan Capistrano. 
 
 1777, 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 Santa Clara. 
 
 1779, 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 San Francisco. 
 
 1782, 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 Santa Buenaventura. 
 
 1786, 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 Santa Barbara. 
 
 1787, 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 La Purissima Concepcion. 
 
 1791, 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 Na Sade la Soledad. 
 
 1794, 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 Santa Cruz. 
 
 1797, 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 San Miguel. 
 
 u 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 San Jose. 
 
 i( 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 San Juan Bantista. 
 
 tt 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 San Fernando. 
 
 1798, 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 San Luis Rey de Francia. 
 
 1817, 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 San Rafael. 
 
 1822, 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 San Francisco Solano. 
 
 
 . 
 
 . 
 
 . 
 
 m 
 
 Santa Ines. 
 
 These missions at length became very rich, and from 1793 
 to 1820 sold an immense quantity of hides and tallow to Ame- 
 rican and British ships which visited the coast. An anec- 
 dote related to me by an intelligent man in California is in 
 point. Previous to 1793 the Padres killed the surplus bulls 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIAS 
 
 279 
 
 of their herds, saving the hides, and leaving the tallow to rot 
 on the plains ; because it was an article difficult to preserve 
 until foreign ships should begin to visit them and furnish a 
 market ; and thus untold quantities of it were lost. One of 
 the Padres, however, who had a little more chemistry and 
 other worldly wisdom than his brethren, caused his Indians to 
 dig a very large and deep vat in the earth on a shaded spot, 
 and line it well with brick and a durable cement, in which 
 from year to year, as his bulls were killed, he stored his tal- 
 low ; and thus continued to do, till the trading ships called for 
 the deposit ; when it was found that his vat contained tliree 
 large cargoes of excellent tallow. 
 
 The cattle in the missions at this period were very numerous. 
 Most of them had from eighty to one hundred thousand each. 
 They also had bands of horses and other kinds of stock pro- 
 portionably large. The Padres of a single mission not unfre- 
 quently purchased an entire cargo of goods from American 
 merchants — and such were the known resources of their es- 
 tablishments, and their uniform punctuality and honesty, that 
 these cargoes were frequently delivered to the priests with 
 no other securi' y than their verbal promise to pay. Indeed, 
 these old Francii,?an Friars, who entered this wilderness clad 
 in their grey habits with sandals on their feet and the cross in 
 their hands, were men for whose equals in mental power, in 
 physical courage and moral intrepidity, we shall seek in vain 
 in these days of vapid benevolence, of organizations which 
 spend their money in sustaining a system of denunciation, 
 instead of applying it with day-laboring energy for the extir- 
 pation of the evils against which they inveigh. These men had 
 not made addresses before the assemblies of anniversary occa- 
 sions, but had wielded the pruning hook of holy truth and of 
 the principles of the social state, and of the refining and ex- 
 alting virtues, upon the unpruned territories of degraded 
 human nature. They had not bewailed the woes of men at 
 the point of a goose-quill, and from the dark walls of a com- 
 plaining heart shut up in an indolent body, sent forth a sack 
 
880 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 of theories for alleviation, which the world must adopt before 
 a freezing hand can be warmed or a hungry mouth filled. 
 But they had bared their hearts to the arrow of the savage 
 and gone out to the theatre of personal labor, driving before 
 them domestic animals bearing seed-grain, the plough, the 
 axe, the spinning-wheel and the loom, gathering the stupid 
 wandering Indians into communities, rearing the edifices of 
 Christianity and the family condition on the shore of that 
 great ocean girded with heathenism and wretchedness, opening 
 its unploughed plains and training them to yield their increase to 
 nourish the body — and from the garner of Heaven drawing man- 
 na for the soul. They did not teach religion only and at all times, 
 and rely on that as a nutriment for the rearing and comfort of 
 the whole man. On the contrary, they recognized in the human 
 being a nature allied to matter as well as spirit j with faculties 
 which connect him as a material existence with his material 
 abode, and powers of mind which were made to teach him 
 his relations to the material world, as well as those which 
 raise the hand of religious faith to the skies, to seize the 
 hope of the after world. Like knowing and reasoning, as 
 well as pious men, they cared for the bodies as well as the 
 souls of those whom they went to convert to Christianity. 
 And in bringing the Californian savages into that industry 
 which must always accompany true virtue and piety, the 
 labor of the converts produced in that climate, where so little 
 is required to sustain them during unproductive seasons, a vast 
 amount of surplus wealth. This the Padres alone were capa- 
 ble of throwing into the market ; and consequently, at the 
 period just spoken of, the business of the Californias received 
 its origin, its character and impulses from them. Society from 
 them took its form and its tone ; and the Government of the 
 country was as mild, wise and just, as these unpretending 
 men who directed its action. The golden age was this of the 
 Californias. The Indians in the whole of Lower, and that 
 part of Upper California which lies between the first range 
 of mountains and the sea, and extending from San Diego to 
 
TRAVELS IN THE C A L I !■ U N I A S . 
 
 277 
 
 pass, and they arrive near the proposed site of their future 
 home on the banks' of a beautiful lake near one of the arms 
 of the bay, select a situation for the Presidio, and cut the tim- 
 ber to erect it. The natives, meanwhile, throng around to 
 witness their labors and make demonstrations of friendship. 
 The vessel arrives on the eighteenth of August. The work 
 progresses, and on the seventeenth of September, they take 
 solemn possession of the new garrison. The holy cross is 
 planted above the peaceful waters of the bay, and the silent 
 hills re-echo the chanting of the Mass, the sublime Te Deura 
 and the roar of artillery and musketry, announcing to the 
 untamed tenants of the wilderness, the dominion at once of 
 the cross and the sword. The same ceremonies attend the tak- 
 ing possession of the mission on the ninth of the following 
 November. These objects accomplished, the vessel returns 
 to San Bias. 
 
 The faithful Padre Junipero continues his labors without 
 ceasing, founding in addition to the missions already named, 
 those of Santa Clara, Santa Barbara, and San Buenaventura. 
 But his efforts draw to a close. He has thrown the gushing 
 energies of a warm and kind heart upon the arid wilderness. 
 Solitude, famine, heat and cold, thirst and hunger, have been 
 welcome as the sole conditions under which he could perform 
 his errand of mercy and love to the red man. And now that 
 the holy cross which his hands have planted, gleams heaven- 
 ward from the dark bosom of these wastes, and devotion 
 blends its gentle tones with the harsher poeans of the winds 
 and waves, and the voices of human industry, the good Padre, 
 worn out with the fatigues and anxieties of his arduous post, 
 must prepare to rest from his labors. The hand of age is 
 upon him ; his head whitens ; his frame bends and trembles ; 
 his steps falter ; he leans upon his younger and more vigor- 
 ous brethren for support ; and at last his grateful and beloved 
 spiritual children, the sons of the forest, see him no more. He 
 retires to die. His heart clings to those who have so long 
 lived under the protection of his fostering hand, and the last 
 24 
 
 Vi 
 
 
 I 
 
 it n 
 
 II 
 
278 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC 
 
 beating of life mingles with a prayer for blessings on his in- 
 fant missions. The bereaved Friars watcB his last breath and 
 close his eyes on the day of San Augustine, in the year 1782. 
 His life has been nearly seventy-one years long ; fifty-three 
 of which have been spent in holy orders, thirty-five in the 
 stern and trying duties of a missionary in the New World. 
 Thus closed the life and earthly labors of Padre Junipero. 
 
 NAMES OF MISSIONS, AND 
 
 DATES OF THEIR FOUNDATION. 
 
 Date of Foundation. 
 
 
 
 Missions. 
 
 1769, 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 San Diego, [de Monterey. 
 
 1770, 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 San Carmelo, or San Carlos 
 
 1771, 
 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 San Gabriel. 
 
 u 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 San Antonio de Padua. 
 
 1772, 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 San Luis Obispo. 
 
 1776, 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 San Juan Capistrano. 
 
 1777, 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 Santa Clara. 
 
 1779, 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 San Francisco. 
 
 1782, 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 Santa Buenaventura. 
 
 1786, 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 Santa Barbara. 
 
 1787, 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 La Purissima Concepcion. 
 
 1791, 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 NaSadelaSoledad. 
 
 1794, 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 Santa Cruz. 
 
 1797, 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 San Miguel. 
 
 (t 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 San Jose. 
 
 « 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 San Juan Bantista. 
 
 c< 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 San Fernando. 
 
 1798, 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 San Luis Rey de Francia. 
 
 1817, 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 San Rafael. 
 
 1822, 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 m 
 
 San Francisco Solano. 
 
 
 - 
 
 _ 
 
 . 
 
 . 
 
 Santa Ines. 
 
 These missions at length became very rich, and from 1793 
 to 1820 sold an immense quantity of hides and tallow to Ame- 
 rican and British ships which visited the coast. An anec- 
 dote related to me by an intelligent man in California is in 
 point. Previous to 1793 the Padres killed the surplus bulls 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIAS 
 
 279 
 
 ri- 
 nd 
 12. 
 ee 
 he 
 Id. 
 
 ey. 
 los 
 
 93 
 
 le- 
 
 ec- 
 
 in 
 
 Llls 
 
 of their herds, saving the hides, and leaving the tallow to rot 
 on the plains ; because it was an article difficult to preserve 
 until foreign ships should begin to visit them and furnish a 
 market ; and thus untold quantities of it were lost. One of 
 the Padres, however, who had a little more chemistry and 
 other worldly wisdom than his brethren, caused his Indians) to 
 <lig a very large and deep vat in the earth on a shaded spot, 
 and line it well with brick and a durable cement, in which 
 from year to year, as his bulls were killed, he stored his tal- 
 low ; and thus continued to do, till the trading ships called for 
 the deposit ; when it was found that his vat contained three 
 large cargoes of excellent tallow. 
 
 The cattle in the missions at this period were very numerous. 
 Most of them had from eighty to one hundred thousand each. 
 They also had bands of horses and other kinds of stock pro- 
 portionably large. The Padres of a single mission not unfre- 
 quently purchased an entire cargo of goods from American 
 merchants — and such were the known resources of their es- 
 tablishments, and their iiniform punctuality and honesty, that 
 these cargoes were frequently delivered to the priests with 
 no other security than their verbal promise to pay. Indeed, 
 these old Franciscan Friars, who entered this wilderness clad 
 in their grey habits with sandals on their feet and the cross in 
 their hands, were men for whose equals in mental power, in 
 physical courage and moral intrepidity, we shall seek in vain 
 in these days o£ vapid benevolence, of organizations which 
 spend their money in sustaining a system of denunciation, 
 instead of applying it with day-laboring energy for the extir- 
 pation of the evils against which they inveigh. These men had 
 not made addresses before the assemblies of anniversary occa- 
 sions, but had wielded the pruning hook of holy truth and of 
 the principles of the social state, and of the refining and ex- 
 alting virtues, upon the unpruned territories of degraded 
 human nature. They had not bewailed the woes of men at 
 the point of a goose-quill, and from the dark walls of a com- 
 plaining heart shut up in an indolent body, sent forth a sack 
 
280 
 
 SCENES 
 
 T II K PACIFIC 
 
 
 of theories for alleviation, which the world must adopt before 
 a freezing hand can be warmed or a hun<^ry mouth fdled. 
 But they had bared their hearts to the arrow of the savage 
 and gone out to the theatre of personal labor, driving before 
 them domestic animals bearing seed-grain, the plough, the 
 axe, the spinning-wheel and the loom, gathering the stupid 
 wandering Indians into communities, rearing the edifices of 
 Christianity and the family condition on the shore of that 
 great ocean girded with heathenism and wretchedness, opening 
 its unploughed plains and training them to yield their increase to 
 nourish the body — and from the garner of Heaven drawing man- 
 na for the soul. They did not teach religion only and at all times, 
 and rely on that as a nutriment for the rearing and comfort of 
 the whole man. On the contrary, they recognized in the human 
 being a nature allied to matter as well as spirit; with faculties 
 which connect him as a material existence with his material 
 abode, and powers of mind which were made to teach him 
 his relations to the material world, as well as those which 
 raise the hand of religious faith to the skies, to seize the 
 hope of the after world. Like knowing and reasoning, as 
 well as pious men, they cared for the bodies as well as the 
 souls of those whom they went to convert to Christianity. 
 And in bringing the Californian savages into that industry 
 which must always accompany true virtue and piety, the 
 labor of the converts produced in that climate, where so little 
 is required to sustain them during unproductive seasons, a vast 
 amount of surplus wealth. This the Padres alone were capa- 
 ble of throwing into the market ; and consequently, at the 
 period just spoken of, the business of the Californias received 
 its origin, its character and impulses from them. Society from 
 them took its form and its tone ; and the Government of the 
 country was as mild, wise and just, as these unpretending 
 men who directed its action. The golden age was this of the 
 Californias. The Indians in the whole of Lower, and that 
 part of Upper California which lies between the first range 
 of mountains and the sea, and extending from San Diego to 
 
 
!i 
 
 T n A V r. I, s IN Til i: c a m i' o u n i a s 
 
 285 
 
 
 the missions, and the Pailres resident commanded to in- 
 struct tliem in the Indian langua«5cs and other matters 
 which would prepare them to supplant their teachers. The in- 
 fluence and usefulness of these excellent r.ien was, by these 
 measures, rapidly uiulerniined, till the year 1827, when two 
 of them. Padres llepol and Altemira, of the mission Santa 
 Barbara, fearing for tliea personal safety, secretly left the 
 country in an American vessel bound to Boston, anil sailed 
 from that city to Spain. In the year 1835, others left with 
 passports from Government, and went through Mexico to 
 Spain ; and others, worn out with labor and sorrow, died in 
 the country and were buried under the churches of their 
 missions. 
 
 In the same year a body of Franciscan monks from the Col- 
 lege at Zacatecas, were sent into the Californias by the Gov- 
 ernment. To these were assigned the rich missions lying 
 north of San Antonio, The old Padres retained the poorer ones 
 lying to the South. Thither these good old priests retired, 
 banished from the missions they had reared, and deprived of 
 the means of comfort which they had procured ; and now, in 
 those inhospitable places, they continue to perform their spirit- 
 ual functions, deprived in their old age not only of the com- 
 forts, but of the very necessaries of life. Aged men, tottering 
 grey-headed men ; men who had in youth left the abodes of 
 civilized life ; who had forsaken father, mother, kindred, and 
 for forty years toiled in the Califoraian wilderness; plough- 
 ed the soil, built churches and dwellings ; brought into life, 
 justice and hope and music and prayer to the God of the Uni- 
 verse ; under whose hands the trees of vktue and civilisa- 
 tion flourished, adorning the hitherto barren wastes of mat- 
 ter and soul ; such were the men condemned by a selfish 
 anarchy to wretchedness and want. But a policy so blind 
 brings evil as its legitimate result. 
 
 In 1835, the whole power of the priests over the temporal 
 affairs of these establishments, in both the Californias, was 
 transferred to officers of government called Administradores. 
 
 M 
 
 ,«.; 
 
286 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC 
 
 % 
 
 One of these was located at each mission. Their duties osten* 
 sibly were to farm them for the benefit of the converts, in order 
 to allow the Padres their whole time for their spiritual labors. 
 But the actual object of this measure was to bring the income 
 and property of the missions within the grasp of the hungry 
 leaches of the Californian Government. For, immediately after 
 the appointment of these officers their wants became pressing, 
 and they began to send orders for hides, &c., to the Adminis- 
 tradores, which were uniformly honored and passed to the credit 
 of the missions. 
 
 Thirty thousand hides and as many arohas of tallow, had 
 been the annual export of this country ; but now, a slaughter 
 of the animals commenced, which surpassed the annual in- 
 crease J and the Padres encouraged the defrauded Indians at 
 the yearly branding, to let many go unmarked and run wild, 
 in anticipation of the approaching period, when tyranny would 
 drive them from their homes to the wilderness. The effects 
 of these measures were to decrease the number of cattle and 
 the amount of the products of the missions, paralyze the in- 
 dustry, deteriorate the morals of the whole community, and 
 introduce in the place of the mild and paternal government of 
 the Padres, the oppressive anarchy of a weak and cruel mili- 
 tary despotism ; the more despicable in itself, as it proceeded 
 from a source where liberty and equality was the theory, and 
 slavery and robbery the practice of the governing class. 
 
 In the year 1836, a quarrel arose between the Mexican Go- 
 vernor at Monterey, and a custom-house officer by the name of 
 Juan Baptiste Alvarado, in regard to the division of certain bribes 
 which had been paid to the officers by the supercargo of a for- 
 eign ship, as a remuneration for entering upon the government 
 books only half of the cargo, and admitting the remainder for a 
 certain sum in specie and goods, paid to themselves; and the first 
 result of the difficulty was a revolutionary movement under 
 Alvarado and Graham, as I have heretofore related. But it is 
 necessary here to add that, after the surrender of the Mexican 
 authorities, the foreigners and Californian Spaniards assembled 
 
 'M'i''< 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIAS 
 
 287 
 
 at Monterey and passed these resolutions as the basis of a pro- 
 visional government. 
 
 1st. Upper California is declared to be independent of Mex- 
 ico during the non-re-establishment of the Federal system, 
 which was adopted in 1824. 
 
 2d. The said California shall be erected into a free and 
 governing state, establishing a congress which shall dictate all 
 the particular laws of the country, and elect the other supreme 
 powers necessary, declaring the " Actual Most Excellent De- 
 putation Constituent." # 
 
 3d. The Religion shall be the Roman Catholic Apostolic, 
 without admitting the exercise of any other ; but the govern- 
 ment will not molest any persons for their particular religious 
 opinions. 
 
 4th. A Constitution shall regulate all the branches of the 
 Administration " provisionally," in conformity as much as 
 possible with the expressed declaration. 
 
 5th. Until what is contained in the foregoing articles be 
 put in execution, Senor Don Guadalupe Vallejo shall be 
 called to act as Commandante General. 
 
 6th. The President of the " Most Excellent Deputation" 
 shall pass the necessary communications to the municipalities 
 of the Territory. 
 
 These proceedings were followed by the banishment of the 
 Mexican Governor, officers and soldiers from the country; 
 the proclamation of Juan Baptiste Alvarado, Civil Governor, 
 and his uncle, Senor Don Mariano Guadalupe Vallejo, Military 
 Governor, or Commandante of the " Republic of Upper Cali- 
 fornia." 
 
 Meantime this new Government had placed the seal of final 
 ruin upon the missions. The official corps which had formerly 
 drawn salaries from the Central Government at Mexico 
 was now dependent upon the resources of the country. The 
 Revolutionists and Lawgivers owned large plantations, many 
 of which grazed ten or fifteen thousand head of cattle, besides 
 horses, mules, sheep, &c. But these were private property. 
 
 :£. 
 
 lil 
 
288 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC 
 
 ;ili-: 
 
 not to be taxed for public purposes by these self-denying 
 patriots. The missions, therefore, were resorted to for the 
 means of supporting the Californian Government during the 
 years 1836, 1837, and 1838 ; and sad was the havoc made 
 upon them by those base descendants of the Chivalry of Spain. 
 As soon as information of this Revolution in Upper Cali- 
 fornia reached Mexico, the Central Government, with Busta- 
 mente at its head, and a kennel of worthless cowards to bark, 
 but never to bite at approaching danger, raised, as is the 
 custom of that hybrid nation of Indian and Spanish Don Quix- 
 ote-Sancho-Panza-Rosinante-Windmill-Furiosos, on such 
 occasions, an army of fulminating proclamations to the citi- 
 zens of La Republica Mexicana, and the remainder of the 
 universe, to arm themselves and proceed in terrible array, 
 dealing death elbow-deep in annihilation, against these auda- 
 cious and unnatural sons of the great, brave, free, glorious, 
 and never-to-be-insulted or conquered nation of Mexico. But 
 these Californians were true, at least, to the weakness and fol- 
 lies of their Spanish blood. Nowhere on the vast plains 
 and mountains of one-half of this continent is there anything 
 Spanish, whether negro, Indian, mulatto, or mestizo, in which 
 may be found anything stable and bloodless. The character 
 of these people may be summed up in these few words : vola- 
 tility, ignorance, stupidity and pride, coupled with the basest 
 and most cowardly cruelty. Their very language is a furious 
 hyperbole, and their entire nature as a people, is the superlative 
 degree of the adjective frothy, without a substantive of any 
 sort to qualify. The lofty chivalry of Spain was buried in the 
 tombs of the American discoverers and conquerors. Its corslet 
 and spear have fallen into the hands of their Indio-Spanish 
 descendants ; and a more worthless rabble of bastards never 
 assumed the name of nation. 
 
 See these Californians. No sooner had they declared their 
 independence and rid themselves of the officers from 
 Mexico, than they divided into two parties ; the one in the 
 North under Alvarado of Monterey asserting complete inde- 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIAS. 
 
 285 
 
 the missions, and the Padres resident commanded to in- 
 struct them in the Indian languages and other matters 
 which would prepare them to supplant their teachers. The in- 
 fluence and usefulness of these excellent men was, by these 
 measures, rapidly undermined, till the year 1827, when two 
 of them. Padres Repol and Altemira, of the mission Santa 
 Barbara, fearing for their personal safety, secretly left the 
 country in an American vessel bound to Boston, and sailed 
 from that city to Spain. In the year 1835, others left with 
 passports from Government, and went through Mexico to 
 Spain ; and others, worn out with labor and sorrow, died in 
 the country and were buried under the churches of their 
 missions. 
 
 In the same year a body of Franciscan monks from the Col- 
 lege at Zacatecas, were sent into the Californias by the Gov- 
 ernment. To these were assigned the rich missions lying 
 north of San Antonio. The old Padres retained the poorer ones 
 lying to the South. Thither these good old priests retired, 
 banished from the missions they had reared, and deprived of 
 the means of comfort which they had procured ; and now, in 
 those inhospitable places, they continue to perform their spirit- 
 ual functions, deprived in their old age not only of the com- 
 forts, but of the very necessaries of life. Aged men, tottering 
 grey-headed men ; men who had in youth left the abodes of 
 civilized life ; who had forsaken father, mother, kindred, and 
 for forty years toiled in the Californian wilderness ; plough- 
 ed the soil, built churches and dwelUngs ; brought into life, 
 justice and hope and music and prayer to the God of the Uni- 
 verse ; under whose hands the trees of virtue and civilisa- 
 tion flourished, adorning the hitherto barren wastes of mat- 
 ter and soul ; such were the men condemned by a selfish 
 anarchy to wretchedness and want. But a policy so blind 
 brings evil as its legitimate result. 
 
 In 1835, the whole power of the priests over the temporal 
 affairs of these establishments, in both the Californias, was 
 transferred to officers of government called Administradores. 
 
 
 i! 
 
 ii f 
 
 
286 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC 
 
 One of these was located at each mission. Their duties osten- 
 sibly were to farm them for the benefit of the converts, in order 
 to allow the Padres their whole time for their spiritual labors. 
 But the actual object of this measure was to bring the income 
 and property of the missions within the grasp of the hungry 
 leaches of the Californian Government. For, immediately after 
 the appointment of these officers their wants became pressing, 
 and they began to send orders for hides, &c., to the Adminis- 
 tradores, which were uniformly honored and passed to the credit 
 of the missions. 
 
 Thirty thousand hides and as many arolas of tallow, had 
 been the annual export of this country ; but now^ a slaughter 
 of the animals commenced, which surpassed the annual in- 
 crease ; and the Padres encouraged the defrauded Indians at 
 the yearly branding, to let many go unmarked and run wild, 
 in anticipation of the approaching period, when tyranny would 
 drive them from their homes to the wilderness. The effects 
 of these measures were to decrease the number of cattle and 
 the amount of the products of the missions, paralyze the in- 
 dustry, deteriorate the ndorals of the whole community, and 
 introduce in the place of the mild and paternal government of 
 the Padres, the oppressive anarchy of a weak and cruel mili- 
 tary despotism ; the more despicable in itself, as it proceeded 
 from a source where liberty and equality was the theory, and 
 slavery and robbery the practice of the governing class. 
 
 In the year 1836, a quarrel arose between the Mexican Go- 
 vernor at Monterey, and a custom-house officer by the name of 
 Juan Baptiste Alvarado, in regard to the division of certain bribes 
 which had been paid to the officers by the supercargo of a for- 
 eign ship, as a remuneration for entering upon the government 
 books only half of the cargo, and admitting the remainder for a 
 certain sum in specie and goods, paid to themselves; and the first 
 result of the difficulty was a revolutionary movement under 
 Alvarado and Graham, as I have heretofore related. But it is 
 necessary here to add that, after the surrender of the Mexican 
 authorities, the foreigners and Cahfornian Spaniards assembled 
 
 || 
 
\ 
 
 TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIAS. 
 
 287 
 
 at Monterey and passed these resolutions as the basis of a pro- 
 visional government. 
 
 1st. Upper California is declared to be independent of Mex- 
 ico during the non-re-establishment of the Federal system, 
 which was adopted in 1824. 
 
 2d. The said California shall be erected into a free and 
 governing state, establishing a congress which shall dictate all 
 the particular laws of the country, and elect the other supreme 
 powers necessary, declaring the " Actual Most Excellent De- 
 putation Constituent." 
 
 3d. The Religion shall be the Roman Catholic Apostolic, 
 without admitting the exA'cise of any other ; but the govern- 
 ment will not molest any persons for their particular religious 
 opinions. 
 
 4th. A Constitution shall regulate all the branches of the 
 Administration "provisionally," in conformity as much as 
 possible with the expressed declaration. 
 
 5th. Until what is contained in the foregoiiig articles be 
 put in execution, Senor Don Guadalupe Vallejo shall be 
 called to act as Commandante General. 
 
 6th. The President of the "Most Excellent Deputation" 
 shall pass the necessary communications to the municipalities 
 of the Territory. 
 
 These proceedings were followed by the banishment of the 
 Mexican Governor, officers and soldiers from the country; 
 the proclamation of Juan Baptiste Alvarado, Civil Governor, 
 and his uncle, Senor Don Mariano Guadalupe Vallejo, Military 
 Governor, or Commandante of the " Republic of Upper Cali- 
 fornia." 
 
 Meantime this new Government had placed the seal of final 
 ruiu upon the missions. The official corps which had formerly 
 drawn salaries from the Central Government at Mexico 
 was now dependent upon the resources of the country. The 
 Revolutionists and Lawgivers owned large plantations, many 
 of which grazed ten or fifteen thousand head of cattle, besides 
 horses, mules, sheep, &c. But these were private property. 
 
 ill 
 
 
288 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 If 
 
 not to be taxed for public purposes by these self-denying 
 patriots. The missions, therefore, were resorted to for the 
 means of supporting the Californian Government during the 
 years 1836, 1837, and 1838 ; and sad was the havoc made 
 upon them by those base descendants of the Chivalry of Spain. 
 As soon as information of this Revolution in Upper Cali- 
 fornia reached Mexico, the Central Government, with Busta- 
 mente at its head, and a kennel of worthless cowards to bark, 
 but never to bite at approaching danger, raised, as is the 
 custom of that hybrid nation of Indian and Spanish Don Quix- 
 ote-Sancho-Panza-Rosinante-Windmill-Furiosos, on such 
 occasions, an army of fulminating 'Iproclamations to the citi- 
 zens of La Republica Mexicana, and the remainder of the 
 universe, to arm themselves and proceed in terrible array, 
 dealing death elbow-deep in annihilation, against these auda- 
 cious and unnatural sons of the great, brave, free, glorious, 
 and never-to-be-insulted or conquered nation of Mexico. But 
 these Californians were true, at least, to the weakness and fol- 
 lies of their Spanish blood. Nowhere on the vast plains 
 and mountains of one-half of this continent is there anything 
 Spanish, whether negro, Indian, mulatto, or mestizo, in which 
 may be found anything stable and bloodless. The character 
 of these people may be summed up in these few words : vola- 
 tility, ignorance, stupidity and pride, coupled with the basest 
 and most cowardly cruelty. Their very language is a furious 
 hyperbole, and their entire nature as a people, is the superlative 
 degree of the adjective frothy, without a substantive of any 
 sort to qualify. The lofty chivalry of Spain was buried in the 
 tombs of the American discoverers and conquerors. Its corslet 
 and spear have fallen into the hands of their Indio-Spanish 
 descendants ; and a more worthless rabble of bastards never 
 assumed the name of nation. 
 
 See these Californians. No sooner nad they declared their 
 independence and rid themselves of the officers from 
 Mexico, than they divided into two parties ; the one in the 
 North under Alvarado of Montwey asserting complete inde- 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIA S. 
 
 289 
 
 in 
 
 the 
 ide- 
 
 pendcnce of Mexico ; and the one in the South under Don 
 Carlos Antonio Carrillo, seeking to unite the country again to 
 the parent State. And a blight of idiocy must have fallen on 
 that mind which cannot perceive in the events that ensued, 
 the terrific tread of ^)ppressed human nature, when, clad in 
 the armor of its own avenging power, it goes forth to the 
 conquest of its rights. The Ides of March ! How ominous ! 
 Csesaf quailed in March ! And how much more ought all 
 the enemies of the great Alvarado's supremacy to have shaken 
 from heel to crown, when, on the fifLh of that dreadful month 
 of March, he announced to his troops that Don Pedro, the 
 Russian Governor at Bodega, had received letters from St. 
 Petersburg, containing news that France and England had 
 resolved to place Iturbide II., son of the Emperor Iturbide L, 
 upon the throne of Mexico ! ! The reader may almost see 
 His Excellency's wrath kindling at this proposed encroach- 
 ment on the liberties of nations. " What, France and Eng- 
 land pretend to foist a monarch upon the people of Mexico, 
 and even upon His Excellency of California !" — and that too 
 while he was Governor 1 Such impudence, if it were not 
 " ridiculously impotent as against Mexico, would be found so 
 in regard to California ! !" And to this effort at patriotism 
 and self-complacency, see his heroic Californians emitting 
 some fumes of bravery, accompanied with a series of consola- 
 tory threats, stamping their feet on the Lord's footstool, and 
 strongly grasping their swords, looking things unutterable 
 enough to put a notable end to the hopes of Iturbide II. 
 During this daring demonstration for freedom, Alvarado is 
 universally believed to have stood firmly at his post, and un- 
 shrinkingly done his duty. The Don in the South also is 
 reported not to have lost a meal of beans on account of this 
 startling intelligence. Courage in California, as elsewhere, 
 is a fine tonic for weak nerves. The event too which suc- 
 ceeded this in the history of the Californias found both these 
 worthies in the field of glory. So that if some ignorant reader 
 should presume to say, at this point of our narration, that the 
 25 
 
290 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 •Il 
 
 Don was less brave, patriotic, or in any other sense less a 
 Californian cavallero, than Alvarado, he is desired to suspend 
 the expression of such an unworthy opinion until he shall 
 have read the following account of a campaign which, I am 
 credibly informed, is considered by the Warriors of that coun- 
 try the most remarkably glorious on record. 
 
 In the spring of 1838, a courier arrived from Santa Bar- 
 bara, bearing a message of mighty import from the illustrious 
 Don Carlos Antonio Carrillo to Alvarado the Conqueror. 
 Its purport was that the high — mighty — ^invincible — and 
 ever-to-be-dreaded Central Government at Mexico, had bared 
 its puissant arm, stretched it out, raised it up, brought it down, 
 and at a single blow, made and put together a gentleman 
 Don, to wit, Don Carlos Antonio Carrillo, and constituted 
 him the Goubernador del Alta California: and with the ex- 
 ercise of the like resistless powf r had ordered the said Alva- 
 rado — ^villain — robber — slave — to surrender, lay down, and 
 for ever after eschew the sceptre of Goubernador del Alta 
 California ; unto which message His Excellency, in the true 
 Castilian spirit, and with as much good sense as any one had 
 a right to expect of him, Alvarado the Conqueror, replied. 
 ** On seeing the commission of my successor, and on finding 
 it conformable to the usages of the Nation ; and on obtaining 
 from him my said successor, a guaranty of safety to my per- 
 son and property, and also to the persons and property of 
 those who acted with me in the Revolution of 1836, 1 will 
 resign the reins of government into the hands of my illustri- 
 ous uncle. Otherwise not — ^never!" This response of the 
 lofty Alvarado was soon en route towards the dwelling-place 
 of the Don. But the mountainous character of the country 
 over which its bearer passed retarded its speed so much that 
 the sixth day had well nigh closed before the indignation of 
 that exalted man was fired at the story of Alvarado*s inso- 
 lence. It was fortunate, undoubtedly, that so much time was 
 allowed to elapse between the development of the courage 
 necessary to enable the Don to send the messenger to Alva- 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALirORNIAS. 
 
 291 
 
 72l' 
 
 rado, and that effort of sublime forbearance required to re- 
 ceive his answer. For it is deemed an established principle 
 in the physiology of courage as well as of steamboats, that 
 too great a pressure upon the internal surface of an enclosing 
 boiler will cause a bursting, disastrous, in a certain sense, to 
 those in the vicinity. Soldiers going into battle for the first 
 time are said to give the happiest illustrations of this law. 
 Be this as it may, however, true it is, that wlien the courier 
 related to him all that the Governor had said, the exalted 
 Don exhibited a capacity in the manufacture of fury at short 
 notice, which made the floor tremble on which he stood ; and 
 it is currently believed that if there had not been a hiatus be- 
 tween the demand of the Don and the said refusal of Alva- 
 rado, greater danger to the integrity of the Don's physical 
 system would have been the unwholesome consequence. As 
 it was, however, that immense personage merely took a glass 
 of native wine, and summoned his friends to arms for doing 
 battle in behalf of La Republica Mexicana. 
 I Alarm, that protecting genius of all cowards, is declared to 
 have a svrift wing. At all events, no sooner did the banner 
 of the glorious old Don begin to flap on the breezes of wake- 
 ful night, than she presented her fluttering form at Monterey, 
 and whispered in the ear of Alvarado, of power, of camps, 
 of carnage fields, of fame's bold clarion, and the terror of 
 his uncle Don. All these things put together made one 
 other thing quite clear to Alvarado's vast comprehension ; 
 namely, that he must again take to the field — the field in 
 which in 1836 he had earned bright laurels, and again fight 
 as he then did, for country and freedom, or bow submissively 
 before the overpowering valor of his great rival. Nor was 
 his genius at fault in this trying exigency. He took his reso- 
 lution ; and having done so, what else could the world have 
 expected, than that his Excellency and the never-to-be- 
 equalled Captain Jose- Castro, of villainous memory, should 
 call the troops to arms and march for the seat of war. And 
 this they certainly did as nearly as circumstances permitted ; 
 
 li 
 
 
292 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 i!J 
 
 that is to say, Alvarado remained in Monterey, three hun- 
 dred miles from powder and ball, and Jose Castro marched 
 towards Santa Barbara with an army of six men. 
 
 The Don meanwhile was not inactive. He wisely deter- 
 mined, as a first step, to take military possession of Santa 
 Barbara. Accordingly, from the balcony of his habitation, 
 which the foreign residents had fitted up for him at El Pueblo 
 de los Angelos, he gave notice to his veteran army assem- 
 bled one hundred strong, that he should march immediately 
 upon that devoted town and sack it according to the ndes of 
 war. After a long aijd tedious forced march on horseback, 
 of thirty miles, in a single day, over a grassy and undulating 
 country, during which they endured more, if possible, than 
 their forefathers did in all their wars with the Moors, they 
 arrived on the 20th of March, 1838, upon a hill about two 
 miles from that village, encamped, held a council of war, and 
 humanely determined to send in a flag, and an expression of 
 their unwillingness to shed blood; but the messenger was 
 especially instructed to announce, that the town of Santa 
 Barbara must be surrendered, or the veteran army would take 
 possession of it, if, in so doing, they " trode at every step 
 upon the pulseless hearts of the dying inhabitants !'* 
 
 The Commandant of the place was not so much frightened 
 by this announcement as he ought to have been. But, on 
 the contrar}', knowing probably that the old Don was a man 
 of his word and not of deed, sent back the following reply. 
 " Senor Carlos Antonio Carrillo had better not be in haste to 
 enter Santa Barbara. Alvarado will soon make his grand 
 entrance. If, however, the Don should deem it his duty to 
 sack Santa Barbara, it will be mine to yield t> the disagree- 
 able necessity of preventing such a catastrophe, by firing on 
 his ranks and destroying the lives of fellow-countrymen. God 
 and Liberty !" This message was more terrific than satisfac- 
 tory to the commander of the invading army. But as night 
 soon cast its protecting mantle over the fierce brows of the 
 immortal one hundred, it was never known to the fullest 
 
TRAVELS Ilf THE CALIFORNIA S. 
 
 293 
 
 extent how much heroism thoy exhibited when ordered into 
 quarters for the night, with the injunction to hold themselves 
 ready for the dreadful work of death at a moment's warning. 
 It is however known that a mounted picket guard was sta- 
 tioned on the hills, and a strong patrol along the ravines, 
 between the camp and the town, and that all. Napoleon-like, 
 slept upon the eve of vast events ; that the next morning 
 dawned ; the earth turned on its axis, showed the sun and hid 
 it again ; and that the army of the Don neither left its en- 
 campment, nor took possession of Santa Barbara ; and that 
 night came again ; that patrols and pickets were stationed as 
 before. But such apparent inaction was not to contir'ue 
 
 On the morning of the 23d, a movement clearly showed that 
 irresolution was no part of the Don's nature. And well did 
 he exclaim, as he addressed the soldiery on that most memora- 
 ble day, — " The pent fires of Californian bravery, who can 
 quench them ? "What one of us, whether plebeian born or a de- 
 scendant of the Spanish Cavaliers, will flee before the servile 
 minions of the ignoble Alvarado ? What man "with a 
 heart quickened by Castilian blood, will not pour out that 
 blood in defence of California, and the union of the Mexican 
 States ? " To this appeal a response arose and echoed amonp; 
 the hills, in that hearty and lusty manner so characteristic of 
 Spanish Californians, and other animals distinguished for long 
 ears. He next commended the courage displayed, and the 
 valorous exploits performed in the siege they were prosecut- 
 ing. " They had crowned their names with deeds of immor- 
 tal renown." And then the officers' swords flamed from their 
 scabbards, and the privates stood shoulder to shoulder in the 
 most threatening attitudes of the genuine warrior, as the Don 
 took breath, and with emphasis remarked, that the army of 
 Santa Barbara was approaching ! ! ! It approached ! ! ! All 
 saw it ! ! ! Halted ! ! The Don reconnoitred ! ! and horrible to 
 tell — the opposing forces numbered one hundred and four 
 noses ! ! His own, himself included, one hundred and one only ! ! ! 
 A difference of three whole noseS, against the Don ! ! ! And 
 25* 
 
 I 
 
 ' 1 
 
 
294 
 
 SCENES IN THB PACiriC. 
 
 who in California knew better than he, the power and effect 
 of such superiority ? "Who understood more clearly than the 
 Don, the execution which that number of noses might do in 
 the approaching struggle for " law and order ? " But who, 
 among all living and dead heroes, could better rally the 
 energies required to meet that horrible crisis, than the Don 1 
 None ! His horse even partook of the overpowering mag- 
 nitude of the energies that bestrode his back, and bore 
 his rider along the line with unwonted speed and fire as the 
 order boomed along, for the soldiers to prime anew their pans 
 -Hshoulder their gleaming muskets, nnd retreat within the 
 walls of the Mission Santa Buenaventura ! ! 
 
 Three days after this intrepid retreat of the invading army, 
 the redoubtable Captain Jose Castro arrived at Santa Bar- 
 bara, with the army of the North, six men strong, well ap- 
 pointed with muskets, powder, ball, and Californian patriot- 
 ism. His entry was a triumph ; rendered sweet to that warrior's 
 heart by the consciousness of being looked upon, while his 
 army defiled through the streets, as the saviour of all the mud 
 walls, tiles, and babies of that famous town. He repaired to 
 quarters in the barracks, dined with becoming dignity, and 
 smoked a cigar. After this important business had been dis- 
 patched, he summoned before him the authorities, and made 
 an exhibit of the luxuriant love of country, which had led 
 Alvarado — that superlative adjative of the genus homOf to 
 assume the government of Alta California, and assured the 
 Commandante, and Alcaldes, that he was authorized and ready 
 to receive the surrender of the p'jce, and the fealty of the 
 inhabitants to the Revolutionary Government. He added , that 
 he hoped it might not be necessary for him to use force in the 
 premises. This latter intimation, backed as it was by the 
 standing presence of the army of six, was deemed of great 
 service to humanity, for no hesitation was manifested by the 
 population, amounting to some six hundred souls, about sub- 
 mitting to the new order of things so gallantly proposed to 
 them by the renowned Captain. 
 
TEAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIA 8. 
 
 295 
 
 The ilext act of Captain Castro which history will delight 
 to record, was that of arresting certain persons at Santa Bar- 
 bara supposed to be favorable to the pretensions of the Don ; 
 namely, Pedro C. Carrillo, the old Don's son, and a Don An- 
 gelo, former Administrador of the Port of Monterey, under 
 the late Mexican authorities. The former he put on board 
 the bark Kamamula, and sent to sea for safe keeping ; the 
 latter was transmitted to Monterey as a trophy of the glorious 
 victory achieved by the Grand Army of six at Santa Barbara. 
 
 Captain Castro tarried only two days at Santa Barbara. 
 But during that short space of time he was enabled, by using 
 that indefatigable industry and intrepidity for which he was 
 so remarkable, to make the two arrests which I have mcn> 
 tioned. And although it has been said by persons presumed 
 to be envious of the Captain's right to call himself the Napo- 
 leon of California, that these prisoners made no attempt to 
 escape, but, on the contrary, surrendered themselves without 
 resistance, yet the impartial historian will undoubtedly find, 
 on thorough investigation, that he who captured Graham and 
 others with so much bravery and renown, could not, in the 
 possibility of things, have done this act so tamely as the ene- 
 mies of the Captain would maliciously represent. Captain 
 Castro was a Napoleon, and by what specious sophistry can 
 mankind be made to believe that he did not arrest Senores 
 Pedro and Angelo, in a manner worthy of that immortal 
 name 1 
 
 On the third day, the Grand Army of the North being in- 
 creased by the people of Santa Barbara to one hundred men, 
 and supplied with three field-pieces, moved against the Grand 
 Army of the South at San Buenaventura. They arrived in 
 the night ; and while the darkness shielded them from view, 
 they planted the cannon on the heights overlooking the Mis- 
 sion, and otherwise prepared themselves for the horrors of 
 the coining day. When the morning dawned, the Captain 
 had the satisfaction to perceive that his position had been so 
 well taken that the garrison of the opposing forces was com- 
 
 \ Mi 
 '.1 
 
 - iti 
 
899 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC 
 
 I! 
 
 'I 
 I 
 
 i\ 
 
 i 
 
 pletely at his mercy ; and like all other great men, being 
 shocked at the idea of shedding blood so profusely as he must 
 do, if he opened upon the Mission the terrors of his cannon, 
 he sent in a flag and demanded a surrender. But, strange to 
 say, the Don, not having before his eyes the fear of Castro's 
 ammunition, refused obedience to this reasonable request, and 
 commenced a brisk discharge of musketry from the walls. 
 This was answered by those outside with both muskets and 
 cannon. The work of death thus commenced went on until 
 the shutting in of night on the fourth day ! How grateful were 
 the shadows of that night to the besieged ! The lighted taper 
 that burned at the altar of the Chapel, sent a straggling ray 
 over the area within the walls, and glimmered faintly on the 
 arms of the Don's soldiery ! But neither that light from the 
 altar of hope, nor the beaming bayonets of the besieged vete- 
 rans, could inspire their hearts with the firmness required to 
 prolong so terrific and destructive a conflict. In the silent 
 moment of midnight, therefore, more than half of the Don's 
 remaining troops made a desperate sally from the gate, and 
 not being opposed for awhile, believed that their intrepidity 
 had saved them ! But they were unfortunately mistaken ! 
 The Captain's sentinels had noticed their operations, and 
 sounded the alarm so bravely that they surrendered them- 
 selves at discretion, without waiting for the unnecessary cere- 
 mony of being captured, or in anywise endangered. 
 
 After these men had thus daringly given themselves up to 
 their foes, their companions, the glorious old Don and all, 
 capitulated. And now came the calling of the rolls and the 
 burial of the dead ! Sad rites to those who survive such days 
 of carnage ! Forty-eight hours of cannonading on the one 
 side, and of busy musket-shots on the other ! ! How many 
 had ceased to breathe, was the anxious inquiry ! The ofli- 
 cial returns read thus, " Of the army of the South one man 
 killed. Of the army of the North one man wounded. — God 
 and Liberty." It is proper to observe in this place, that it 
 was afterwards a question often raised between the soldiers 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIA S. 
 
 297 
 
 
 of the two armies, whether the Don or the Captain surrendered. 
 But the most authentic accounts rather favor 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 Alv^rado 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 inhabitantL?, 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 aud 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, 
 
298 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 
 every hardship, for the attainment of his just rights, — ^to prove 
 himself not only " par secundis," but " major adversis," by 
 seeking repose, and calling on the shades of forgetfulness to 
 fall £iround the memory oi heroic exploits, which such a man 
 blushes to hear coupled with his name. So little need has 
 true worth of noise arid praise. But I should do great injus- 
 tice to the worthy Don, if I 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 sent an account of that 
 event to his friend Sa Excellentissimo, El Presidente Busta- 
 mente, in which among other matters it was stated that, in 
 case Mexico would make an appointment of a Californian of 
 the Governorship of the country (suggesting at the same time 
 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 to the allegiance 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 this 
 dispatch. In due time he returned with a commission — em- 
 powering his brother Don to assume the Government of Alta 
 California. The only irregularity in the instrument which 
 arrested attention was the absence of the proper signa- 
 tures and the Seal of State. But as the Don was called 
 £1 Goubernador in the body of the instrument, that irregu- 
 larity was deemed by his friends of trifling importance. 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 law, for having rebelled 
 against La Republica Mexicana. 
 
 From the year 1838 to 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. 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 Geology of the Californias — Boundaries — Lower California — Motin> 
 tains — Surface — Deserts — 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 lying west of them, most 
 interesting to 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 of 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 lieated by subterranean fires. No craters are in action. 
 But hot ^rings of water and bitumen, and frequent earth* 
 
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 Hi 
 
 :.fi<ii^i 
 
300 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 quakes, and the scorched face of the whole region, demonstrate 
 it to be a mere mass upheaved from the sea, and burned to 
 cinders. The range of mountains that comes up through Low 
 er California, runs on northwardly into Upper 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, everything 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 sea, 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 locoj mingled with various descriptions of 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIA S. 
 
 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 range, 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 size are piled around it, but 
 they appear like molehills beside that veteran mount. Some 
 of these lesser ones are so high as to be covered with snow 
 most of the year. But this vast peak towers over them all 
 several thousand feet, a glittering cone of ice. These moun- 
 tains decrease in height as they advance towards the mouth 
 of the Colorado, where they terminate in low crags and sandy 
 hills. 
 
 All over the Califprnias, the traveller finds evidences of 
 volcanic action. Far in the interior, among the deserts j in 
 the streams ; in the heights ; in the plains ; everywhere are 
 manifestations of the fact, that the current of subterranean 
 fire which crossed the Pacific, throwing up that line of isl- 
 ands lying on the south of the sea of Kamschatka, and passed 
 down the continent upheaving the Oregon Territory, did also 
 bring up from the bed of the ocean the Californias ; and 
 among geological periods, I venture the opinion that this 
 great event occurred at quite a recent date. 
 
 Geography. — The Californias are bounded on the North by 
 the 42d parallel of Latitude ; on the East, by a line running 
 due north from the head waters of the Arkansas river, and by 
 the Anahuac and Taos mountains ; on the South, by the river 
 Jila and the Gulf of California ; and on the West, by the 
 Pacific Ocean. 
 26 
 
302 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 1 
 
 A general idea of the surface will be given the reader if I 
 say that the peninsula, or Lower California, which extends 
 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 sustaining vegetation ; and if I state that the country lying 
 north of this 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 are 
 generally destitute of trees ; but timbier grows in some of the 
 ravines. The general aspect, however, 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 Cortez, 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 turbulent 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 restmg-place among them. But they lift themselves nobly 
 to the clouds, and look so venerable in their baldness, that 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIA S. 
 
 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 chill'mg un- 
 changeableness which inspires a feeling of awe and reve- 
 rence ? 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 line 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 suflferings, of Padres 
 Salva Tierra and Ugarte ; the burning-place of Padres Cor- 
 rando's and TamaraPs martyrdom ! We will describe that 
 country as it now exists. 
 
 That province of Lower California, extends from Cape San 
 Lucas to the Bay of Todos Santos, and 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, the 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- 
 ever 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 torrents. In case the soil 
 
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 Ml 
 
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304 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 I 
 
 !* ft 
 
 chance to be lodged in some other dell, befbre it reach the 
 Ocean or the Gulf, and the people follow ii to its new loca- 
 tion, they find perhaps no water there and cannot cultivate it 
 Consequently they are often driven by dreadful want to some 
 other point in quest of sustenance, where they may not find it, 
 and perish among 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 and 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 ; 
 and the sky more beautiful than the imagination can conceive. 
 
 The range of mountains occupying the whole interior 6f 
 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. Among 
 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 places 
 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 
 
 ■5' Si 
 
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TRAVEJ..S IN THE CALIFORNIA S. 
 
 305 
 
 
 the Colorado, six hundred miles, there are only two streams 
 emptying into the Gulf. One of these is called San Josef del 
 Cabo. It passes through the plantations of the 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 they 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 shore 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 Tiebra and Ugarte. • 
 
 The few fertile spots in Lower California were occupied at 
 an early day, and planted with maize, wheat, beans, peas, 
 26» 
 
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 ■^1 
 
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306 
 
 ■ CENK9 IN THE PACIVIC. 
 
 
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 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 
 yery 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, thomback, 
 mackerel, barbel, bonifos, 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 leafless waste, the country 
 would be a valuable acquisition to any 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 myay species margcritifera ; which being 
 translated into the language of common sense means, that the 
 pearl oyster is a kind of water animal, living between a pair 
 of shells like any other gentleman oyster. And this gentle- 
 man they tell us is sometimes afflicted with disease at one nd 
 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 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALirORNIAS. 
 
 307 
 
 
 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 cars 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 
 cUvers, and one for the government. 
 This division having been concluded, they next proceed, 
 
 
 
 "■|.H 
 
 -#l 
 
 ■31 
 
308 
 
 SCENES IN TIIK PACIFIC. 
 
 ii 
 
 ■ ' 
 
 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 ^ Ttion is next opened with the same precautions, ^nd 
 taken into possession by the Armador. And last of all the 
 Busos open theirs, and sell them 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 aside for the use of the Virgin Mary. 
 The rest are thrown in a pile ; and when the day's diving is 
 ended, eight oysters are laid out for the At madors, eight for 
 the Busos, and two for the government. 
 
 In the year 1831, one vessel with seventy Busos, another 
 with fifty, and two with thirty each, and two boats with ten 
 each, from the coast of Senora, engaged in this fishery. The 
 one brought in forty ounces of pearls valued at $6,500; ano< 
 thcr twenty-one ounces, valued at $3,000; another twelve 
 ounces, valued at $2,000, and the two boats a proportionate 
 quantity. There were in the same season ten or twelve other 
 vessels, from other parts, employed in the trade ; which, if 
 equally successful, swelled the value of pearls taken in that 
 year to the sum of more than forty thousand dollars. 
 
 This pearl-fishery, indeed, is the principal source of wealth 
 in Lower California. From the soil little can ever be derived ; 
 unless the deserts and mountains, like other volcanic districts 
 on the west coast of the continent, should prove to be stored 
 
 A 
 
 -Mi 
 
TRAVELf- IN THE CALIF0RNIA8. 
 
 309 
 
 with the precious metals. There is a high probability that this 
 may be found the case ; for a mine called San Antonio, near 
 I«a Paz, which has been wrought somewhat, is sdUd to be rich. 
 In addition to the products of this mine and the pearls, there 
 is a limited export of dates, wines, grapes, soap, figs, raazcal, 
 spirits, salt from a lake on the island Del Carmine, and a 
 few goat and beeves' hides. 
 
 Since the landing of the excellent old Padre Salva Tierra, 
 with his six soldiers and three Indians, at Loretto in the 
 year 1697, a great change has taken place in the inhabitants 
 of this territory. It was then peopled by about twenty thou- 
 sand Indians, who passed whole days stretched upon their 
 bellies on the sand. And when pressed with hunger they 
 flew to the chase or the sea^ like wild beasts, merely to satisfy 
 the cravings of appetite, and then rolled themselves upon the 
 sand again till aroused to action by a similar cause. 
 
 These degraded beings the Jesuits brought into the Catholic 
 church, taught the arts of civilized life, and when nature fail- 
 ed, buried them. The intercourse of these savages with the 
 soldiers, and with the few colonists and their negro slaves, 
 who from time to time settled there, produced a mixed race, 
 which, by the greater care taken of their persons, and by the 
 relief from labor derived from the industry of the neophytes 
 at the Missions, have increased in numbers, while their brutal 
 and filthy Indian relatives, with better constitutions, have de- 
 creased 'f so that the present population of Lower California is 
 almost entirely composed of mongrel breeds of Indians, 
 whites, and negroes. In 1836 they amounted to about four 
 thousand. But since then the sraall-pox and another disease, 
 which had swept away the Indians, has made some havoc also 
 among this mixed race. Loretto, the seat of government, 
 formerly contained two thousand people, whose number is 
 now reduced to about two hundred and fifty. 
 , ..La Paz, situated on the bay of La Paz, farther south, 
 together with the mining village of San Antonio, contains 
 about two thousand descendants of American and European 
 
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310 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 seamen, Spaniards, Creoles and Indians. The remainder of 
 the population is scattered over the country ', and all are liv- 
 ing a lewd and half civilized life. 
 
 These mission establishments are now a sad sight to behold. 
 In the days of Padres Salva Tierra and Ugarte, we have 
 regarded them as the comfortable abodes of savages, whom 
 those excellent men had raised from the filth, idleness and 
 misery of the lowest barbarism, to the cleanliness, industry and 
 happiness of a partially civilized mode of life. They were 
 built upon fertile spots, separated from each other by extensive 
 tracts of uninhabited wastes ; little green homes, where the 
 plough, the axe, the family hearth, and the altar of God, con- 
 tributed to the comfort and dignity of human life, and so far 
 as the physical obstacles in the country and the stupid nature 
 of the Indians allowed, elevated the leading purposes of their 
 temporal existence, and implar^ted in their minds a new idea 
 of vast power j the idea of their Maker ; the framer of Nature 
 and of themselves ; which raised from the grave man's expec- 
 tation of future being ; and threw over that new life of beloved 
 hope, the bow of His eternal promises. And for ever, yes, 
 alway, while the good revert to the past, for examples of 
 great devotion to the deeds of a holy benevolence, will they 
 point to the thirsty deserts ofLower California, and the crum- 
 bling walls of the old missions, and speak the names of Salva 
 Tierra and Ugarte. 
 
 The government of Lower California, while administered 
 by these excellent men, was patriarcnal in its general features, 
 and aimed at the happiness of the govei ned. At the expul- 
 sion of the Jesuits from Spanish America, the Franciscans suc- 
 ceeded to their places; but being unacquainted with the 
 character of the people, their gcca intentions towards them 
 were in a great degree thwarted by their incapacity to meet 
 the duties of their station. These were succeeded by the 
 Dominicans ; excellent men in their way ; but failing to 
 equal the great founders of a system of things which ' ' 
 were called to carry out, in that broad and untiring 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIA S. 
 
 311 
 
 e 
 
 levolence which distinguished those remarkable men, they 
 have hung to the present day, like drones upon the honey- 
 cells of their predecessore' labors, till the walls ai'ound those 
 mission altars have tumbled about their heads, and the people 
 of their charge have become nearly extinct. There is indeed 
 much excuse for this conduct of the Dominicans, in the fact 
 that afler 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 zeal 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 upun 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 veak'and 
 defenceless, and to that God and his truth he had been devot- 
 ed by martyrs ; and these priests should have been immolated 
 rather than have lived to ace 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 wast'.; 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 these 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 si^at indeed to behold are the old missions of Lower 
 California ! The wild goat bleats from their falling belfiries j 
 and the swallow builds his nest among their aisles. 
 
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 II" 
 
 I' ' 
 
 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 strear; 
 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; 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. — Biver Colorado. — The water of this 
 river is clear among the Rocky Mountains, but as it approach' 
 cs the Gulf, it becomes much discc^ red by red sand and clay. 
 Hence its name — Colorado, a Spanish word meaning red. 
 My friend. Doctor Lyman, of Buffalo, who travelled from 
 Santa Fe, in New Mexico, by the way of the Colorado of the 
 West, to Upper California, in the year 1841, has kindly fo. • 
 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 b-mches of the San Juan, and northwardly across 
 these to the Rio Colorado of the West — down the northern 
 bank of this river to the Californian Moi mtains — and through 
 these to El Pueblo de los Angelos, near the coast of the Pa- 
 
SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 313 
 
 '"i 
 
 cific. 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 Fc, is 3000 feet ; and that of the plain around 
 the junctioh 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 depf . ture 
 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 
 L^ke, Timpanigos, also Ues 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 
 northwesterly, and from that of the Great Salt Lake, in 
 a westerly, direction, forming lakes without any visiHe 
 ortlet, or sinking in the sands of that desolate waste, 
 .'^^ctor Lyman writes me the following graphic account of 
 Ih ,of! regions. 
 
 ' The traveller journeying northward, after leaving Santa 
 Fe (Lat. 26° N.), passes, for the space of 300 miles, alternate 
 ranges ' T mountains, separated by valleys of greater or less 
 width, some exceedingly fertile, and others very barren. At 
 times, consequently, he finds abuiidance of fine grass and pure 
 water for his animals ; and at others so desolate and parched 
 87 
 
 111' 
 
 ii 
 

 314 
 
 TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIA S. 
 
 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 
 app.oaching the valleys of the Sheetskadee and Grand — the 
 great mountain tributaries of the Colorado, — the country be- 
 comes generally stciile, and broken in every direction by deep 
 ravines with perpendicular banks, opposing almost insur- 
 mountable obstacles to the traveller's progress j compelling 
 him to search li p- d^vs 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 ^atal effect 
 on animals and men. In some few instances, in<leed, 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 upon 
 which vegetation is so scarce that there will hardly be a 
 blade of grass to a square mile of surface I Occasional' v 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 * canes,' a diminutive 
 

 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 315 
 
 species of the arundo hamhos, 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 colocynthiSy which 
 serves only to tantalize the perishing traveller with the 
 remem^ ance 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 
 unripe 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 
 VegaSf 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 
 difficult 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 the 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 
 
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 ffi;n 
 
 Iff 
 
 .'4, 
 
 ^ 
 
 
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 •li 
 ■I 
 
 i 
 
 
 
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 !v 
 
316 
 
 TtiAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIA S. 
 
 previous attempts to pass it. And such appeared to be the 
 saline character of the soil, and so destitute of moisture was 
 the atmosphere, that the flesh of these carcasses, instead of 
 being decomposed, was dried like the mwumies of Egypt ! 
 From this sandy waste to the Californian Mountains, the soil 
 is so hard that horses and other animals leave no tracks 
 behind them. The waters here also are saline and sulphur- 
 ous. Indeed, this valley of the Colorado of the West has no 
 equal on this continent for barrenness. With the exceptions 
 just named, it is a vast plateau of degraded rocks, almost 
 destitute of organic matter, with ravines dotted here and there 
 with bunches of wild sage, savine bushes, and stunted dwarf 
 oaks — a great burial-place of former fertility which can never 
 return. In evidence of this opinion, the Doctor mentions some 
 ruins which he discovered about four hundred miles up the 
 river, and a short distance from its northern bank. They 
 occupied an area in the form of a parallelogram, cut by streets 
 thirty or forty feet wide, running at right angles to each other. 
 The edifices were in a state of great decay. They had been 
 built of rough fragments of trap rock, united with a cement 
 which had become loose and friable. The blocks of buildings 
 were generally crumbled down, so as to lie inclined towards 
 the streets on the outside of the walls, at an angle of 30^ or 
 40° to the horizon, and six feet in height. They were 
 sparsely covered with the bushes of the wild sage. The long 
 side of the city lay east and west. In this direction it was 
 about one mile long. The width, north and south, was three 
 quarters of a mile. In the centre of the ruins is a mound of 
 fragments with a base of forty, and a height of ten feet. 
 
 This little city was probably overwhelmed by the action 
 of those volcanic fires which have melted, shaken, and 
 transformed the whole Pacific coast of the continent. That it 
 was a place for the habitations of men appears clear. Among 
 the ruins the Doctor found fragments of burned clay, vessels 
 of a globular form, some of which had a white ground color, 
 with raised black images of birds, and of bears birds and 
 
SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 317 
 
 lels 
 
 lor, 
 nd 
 
 otber animals with human heads. The outside of these ves- 
 sels was glazed — the inside of a brick color, and unglazed. 
 There were four principal entrances to this city j one in the 
 centre of each side. 
 
 These ruins stand in the midst of one of the most sterile 
 wastes on the Colorado. A small wet hollow near by fur- 
 nishes, by digging, a little brackish water. The nearest fresh 
 water is thirty miles distant. Fifteen miles to the north is a 
 range of rocks, the highest points of which reach an elevation 
 of not more than fifteen feet. In the middle part of this range 
 is a deep excavation which has every appearance of an old 
 silver mine. The debris about it, and other strong indications, 
 seem to authorize the belief that it was formerly wrought for 
 that precious metal. By whom was it wrought ? By whom 
 was that city inhabited 1 By what great convulsion of na- 
 ture was it prostrated, and its gardens and grain fields changed 
 to a thirsty desert 1 Three Timpanigos Utaws whom my 
 friend Lyman met could give no answers to these and the 
 like inquiries, and they had no legends in regard to the origin 
 of these ruins, or of others which they spoke of as existing in 
 the north and west. Was not this the Cibola of the early 
 explorers j the land visited by the Jesuits — filled with people 
 and wealth, and which the volcanic fires that even to this 
 day groan under the whole western coast of America have 
 seared into a homeless waste 1 
 
 Doctor Lyman suffered so many hardships and privations 
 while travelling down the Colorado, that he, as well as his 
 animals, barely lived to reach the green fields and pure waters 
 of the Californian Mountains. He found the country around 
 the mouth of the river as dry, as salt, as uninviting in every 
 respect, as any he had traversed. But striking off in a west- 
 erly direction from a point about one day's journey from its 
 debouchure into the Californian Gulf, he arrived at a river 
 of excellent water called the Amajaves. The source of this 
 stream is in the marine range of Californian Mountains, im- 
 mediately east of the Puebla de los Angelos, at a place called 
 27* 
 
 
 
 rr' 
 
 :i 
 
 ;il 
 
 4 
 
318 
 
 TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIA S. 
 
 F^'i; 
 
 The Cajon ; a peculiar break in those mountains through 
 which there is a safe and easy passage. This is a very sin- 
 gular stream. It may be said to run southeastwardly about 
 two hundred miles, and empty into the Colorado. But on 
 all its length it does not run two miles without entirely dis- 
 appearing in the sand. So that it presents to the traveller a 
 long line of little rippling lakes, from two to two and a half 
 feet deep, at one time sunken among hard flinty hills or piles 
 of drifting sands, and at others gurgling through narrow vales 
 covered with grass, and fields and forest^* in wHich live the 
 deer, the black bear, the elk, the hare, and many a singing 
 bird. 
 
 The Cajon, also, in which it rises, is a great curiosity. The 
 mountains seem to have been cleft asunder perpendicularly, 
 and the upright walls moved a short distance apart, opening 
 a dark winding way to their very heart, where a wider space 
 is found — so regularly square, with sides and angles so box- 
 like, that it has been aptly called cajon — a box. From this 
 spot the passage winds again between the sides of the cleft 
 mountain, accompanied by another murmuring stream tending 
 westward, till it leads the wayfarer into the sweet plains of 
 the Californian sea-board ; that most delightful of all lands — 
 that paradise of the continent, if not of the world. But 
 before describing this I must complete my account of the 
 desolate interior. Of this there remains to be described the 
 rivers Severe, San Juan, and Jila, and their valleys, the Great 
 Salt Lake, called by the Indians, Timpanigos, and the desert 
 lying between it and the Californian Mountains. 
 
 About four hundred and fifty miles from the mouth of the 
 Colorado, and a short distance north of that stream, a river 
 arises, which, on account of its rough character, the Mexican 
 Spaniards have named Rio Severe — Severe River. Its 
 source is among a small cluster of mountains, where it pre- 
 sents the usual beav.ciful phenomena of rivulets gathering 
 from different quarter's — uniting — increasing — tumbling and 
 roaring, till it reach'^ ihe plain, when it sinks into chasms or 
 
SCENE9 IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 319 
 
 the 
 [•iver 
 lican 
 Its 
 Ipre- 
 jring 
 and 
 or 
 
 kenyons, of basalt and trap rocks, and dashes on terribly over 
 fallen precipices for about eighty miles, where it loses itself 
 in the sand. This river was explored by an American trap- 
 per, several years ago, under the following circumstances. 
 He had been hunting beaver for some time among the moun- 
 tains in which the river rises, with considerable success, 
 and without seeing any Indians to disturb his lonely tranquil- 
 lity. One night, however, when the season was far advanc- 
 ed, a party of the Arapahoes, which had been watching his 
 movements unseen by him, stole all his traps. Thus situated, 
 without the means of continuing his hunt, and being two hun- 
 dred miles from any trading post where he could obtain a 
 supply, he determined to build a canoe and descend the Rio 
 Severe, in the hope that it might bear him down to the habi- 
 table parts of California. He, therefore, addressed himself to 
 this task with great perseverance, completed his bark, and 
 launched himself upon the angry stream, with life pledged to 
 his undertaking, and that daring expf-tation so peculiar to 
 the " mountain men," to light his way among the dark and 
 brawling caverns through which his frail and perilous craft 
 ■was to bear him. Seven days he passed in floating down this 
 stream. Most of its course he found walled-in by lofty per- 
 pendicular cllfTs, rising several hundred feet high, dark and 
 shining, and making palpable his imprisonment within the 
 barriers of endless solitude. At intervals he found cataracts, 
 down which he passed his boat by means of lines, and then 
 with great labor and hazard, clambered up and down the pre- 
 cipices till he reached the waters below. On these rapids 
 the water was from two to three feet deep, and a hundred 
 yards in width. In the placid sections, the stream was often 
 thirty and forty feet in t!:^pth, and so transparent, that the 
 pebbly bottom and the fish swimming near it, were seen, when 
 the sun shone, as distinctly as the like appear in the suppcs- 
 ed peerless waters of Lake George. As this man drew near 
 the close of his fifth day's journeying, the chasms began to 
 disappear, and the country to open into rolling and drifting 
 
 
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 < 1 ' V. 
 
 
320 
 
 TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIA S. 
 
 
 plains of sand, interspersed with tracts of dark-colored hard- 
 pan. About the middle of the seventh day, he came to the 
 sands in which the river was swallowed up, and hauling his 
 shattered boat on shore, explored the country northwest, for 
 the reappearance of the stream. But to no purpose. A leaf- 
 less dry desert spread away in all directions, destitute of ev«ry 
 indication of animal life, breathless and noiseless, a great 
 Edora, in which every vital function was suspended, and 
 where the drifting sands and the hot howling winds warned 
 him that he must perish if he persisted. He therefore left his 
 faithful old boat and made his way back to the mountains, 
 where he lost his traps, and thence travelled to Robidoux* fort, 
 on the upper waters of the San Juan. He subsisted on snails 
 and lizards during his journey ; and when he arrived, was 
 reduced to a skeleton, with barely strength enough to creep 
 into that solitary fortress. It is needless to add that he was 
 most kindly received by the hospitable owner, for who does 
 not know that from the Arctic seas to the southernmost limit 
 of the fur-traders' habitations, the wayworn stranger finds a 
 home and a brother at any of their posts ? These iron men 
 of the wilderness, like those who combat the waves and the 
 winds of the seas, never fail to feel a bond of holy brother- 
 hood for those who have met and overcome the same difficul- 
 ties. The old trapper is forgotten j but his exploration of 
 Rio Severe with all its attendant dangers, undertaken and 
 accomplished alone, far in the deserts, hundreds of miles from 
 the voice of civilized man, in a frail canoe, liable to be swal- 
 lowed up by the torrent, yet daring to float onward down a 
 stream of cataracts, whose existence became known to hln 
 only as he approached their brink and heard their roar, was 
 a noble deed of perseverance and courage, which will ever be 
 remembered by those who shall be interested in the history of 
 that wild part of our continent. 
 
 The Rio San Juan is a fine stream of mountain waters, 
 which rises in the Anahuac ridge, and, running in a west- 
 wardly direction, empties itself into the Colorado about three 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORMIAB. 
 
 321 
 
 Iters, 
 
 rest- 
 
 iree 
 
 hundred and fifty miles from its mouth. The valleys on its 
 upper waters have been described in my friend Doctor Ly- 
 man's account of his journey across them given on preceding 
 pages. And it only remains for me here to say that the val- 
 leys of this stream below those portions seen by the Doctor 
 are mostly barren — broken by mountains and deep ravines ; 
 in a word, generally resembling the lower portion of the vale 
 of the Colorado, in hideous desolation. There are indeed 
 some fruitful tracts of land near the banks and along the 
 brows of the neighboring highlands, which produce a mode- 
 rate share of vegetation. In the rainy season, large tracts of 
 country also bordering on th middle part of its course are 
 pretty well clothed with grass. But when the dry season sets 
 in, the country is parched to a heap of red dust ; every plant, 
 except trees) the different species of the cactus or prickly 
 pear, and a few shrubs, is withered, and a brown, dying as- 
 pect, is presented by the valley of the San Juan. This will 
 ever be a desert, till those vast subterranean fires which 
 scorched it, and those dry winds which scorch it still, shall 
 cease to act, and the dews of night deign to fall, and the 
 clouds distil upon it their rains at proper seasons. 
 
 The River Jila forms the southeastern boundary of the Cali- 
 fornias. It rises among the mountains, west of Santa Fe, in 
 Latitude 36^ north, and running westwardly a distance of about 
 five hundred miles, falls into the Colorado about sixty miles 
 from the Californian Gulf. It is a rapid rushing stream of 
 excellent water. Its banks, like those of the Colorado, in a 
 great degree, are composed of basalt and trap-rock rising per- 
 pendicularly much in the manner of the Palisades on the 
 Hudson. The valleys of the upper branches of this stream 
 are comparatively rich and beautiful. The lofty mountains 
 among which it rises, the higher peaks of which are covered 
 with snow throughout the year, the bold cliffs which at irre- 
 gular intervals burst up from the plains, the conical hills of 
 rich earth clad with forests, the grass fields covered with wild 
 animals and Indian lodges, present a panoramic view of the 
 
 .1 
 
 '^ 
 
 'It: . 
 
 i 
 
'I 
 ft 
 
 323 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 f. 
 
 Jila and its neighboring lands, ^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 Fadre 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 his 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 future events his labors have 
 opened, which shall enrich and gladden the hjsarts that shall 
 beat there in coming time 1 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 de- 
 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 shall 
 be fertility, great beauty of growing things, and broad lakes 
 of clear sweet waters. From one of these lakes an eagle 
 shall rise on his strong wings towards the God whom we 
 worship, with a serpent's neck in his beak and his lower part 
 in his 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 of which a people whiter than themselves should come 
 and conquer them, and that they should never afterward be 
 enabled to obtain their independence. Believing in this pro- 
 
TRAVELS IN THE C A L I F H N I A 8. 
 
 323 
 
 phecy, they saw their towns on the Jila tumble into ruins, 
 and travelled southward, building others, and leaving them, 
 until they arrived in the charming valley of Mexico, where 
 they found the lakes, and mountains, and fertility — saw the 
 eagle and the serpent, founded the city, and at the precise 
 time indicated by their prophet were conquered by the Spa- 
 niards. Poor Indians ! Too true was the augury. You now 
 believe that perpetual subserviency is the lot assigned you by 
 the decrees of Heaven, and when you pray before the altar of 
 the true God, you still believe that your ancient sage spoke 
 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 did when Montezuma led 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. 
 
 ir The Timpanigos or Utaw Lake, 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 of 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 add in this place, that it lies between 
 Lat. 40^ and 43° N., and Long. 36"* and 37° W. from Wash- 
 ington. On the east, southeast, and southern sides of this 
 lake there are clusters of mountains of considerable height, 
 partially covered with trees, and the large island in the same 
 is said to be inhabited. 
 
 The Timpanigos Desert is the largest in North America. 
 It extends north and south from the Snowy Mountain range, 
 in Latitude 40^ N., to the Colorado, and east and west from 
 Lak6 Timpanigos, to the mountains which form the eastern 
 boundary of the valley of the San Joaquim ; between four 
 
 11 
 
 W^ 
 
 m.^ 
 
 i.. 
 
 v. 
 
324 
 
 SCENES IN ""HE PACIFIC. 
 
 H'*' . 
 
 m 
 
 & 
 
 m 
 
 I'll" 
 
 M 
 
 m 
 
 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 Sev6re River, saw a part of it. All its 
 borders have been traversed m.jre 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 w.iter and food, and that 
 those who pursued them., often met the same fate. Their le- 
 gends and their own knowledge lead t!iem 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 east ,vard, 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 load'.J twenty mules with dried grass at 
 the mountains south of ihe 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, tiiat having 
 travelled until his animals had exh lusted 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. Cn 
 their backward ^vay five of his men perished. The captain 
 and the remaiiider reached the lake in a wretched condiHon. 
 This was the last attempt to explore this awful waste. And 
 long will it be, ere man can biow the r dent gloom and hor- 
 rors of its dreadful depths. 
 
 On the northwest s5de of this Desert ' , a partially fruitful 
 region, called the Vale of Mary's River. This stream has its 
 source in the Snowy Mouij tains, about three hundred miles 
 from the Pacific Ocean, and, running southwestwsrdly about 
 one hundred and sixty miles, empties into its own lake. This 
 lake is about sixty miles in length, N. and S., and about 
 thirty in breadth. It has received so much sediment from^the 
 
 I 
 
^'J, 
 
 ruitful 
 las its 
 miles 
 about 
 This 
 about 
 m.the 
 
 TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIA 8. 
 
 325 
 
 surrounding highlands that it is chiefly filled with mud, form- 
 irig 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 £;ufficiently 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 pine 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 \i\. on the banks are peopled by a portion of the Paiuches 
 or Root Diggers ; a filthy tribe, the prey of idleness and ver- 
 nun. 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 '^-i States. But 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 the Pacific 
 Ocean. 
 
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CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 Rio San Joaquim and Valley. — Rio Sacramento and Valley. 
 
 R'o San Joaquim. — ^The most interesting portion of Upper 
 California in many respects, is the upper or northern, era- 
 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 Buenavista, 
 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 salmon and other fish. It 
 is navigable for small steamboats, about two hundred and 
 fifty 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 for 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 the streams, by wooded 
 spots, standing out like islands on the green plain, by arms 
 of timber stretching far down from the mountain sides, and 
 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIA 8. 
 
 327 
 
 
 by extensive circular groves, connected with larger forests by 
 a thin 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- 
 Jty, and the state. Over thii 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 *■ oast. 
 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, ^ts soil is 
 manifestly of volcanic formation, and filled with elements 
 imfriendly 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 asphaltun?, which renders the i^-oil too compact 
 for tillage. Thet^e peculiarities, however, attach oniy 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 th"^ east and west, are sufficiently freed from 
 these destructive ingredients by the wintry rains which wash 
 them down to the plains below. The ace of the country 
 among these highlands is very beautiful, the soil rich and 
 heavily timbered ; and above them rise the mountait > bearing 
 W their sides forests of red cedar trees, from one to twel e feet 
 in diameter and of proportional 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, 
 
 
 % 
 
 li 
 
328 
 
 SCENES IS THE PACIFIC. 
 
 I- 
 
 IP 
 
 I 
 
 m 
 
 y'M' 
 
 bitter, and fresh water. Most of the lakes, however, belong 
 to the latter class ; and the larger part of the soil furnishes 
 pasturage. There are very many swamps or marshes hero, 
 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. AVillows, 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 
 ss 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 38^ 30', 
 N., during the month of August, I found 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-fiuid state." This intense heat 
 poured down so many months upon tl, -nhmerged 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, convert- 
 ing this immense valley into a 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 those destructive 
 salts which are now deposited upon the soil. And thus, I be- 
 lieve, the valley of the San Joaquim will become the abode of 
 a dense population, the products of whose industry will float 
 
T R A VELS 
 
 THE CALIFORNIA S 
 
 down the placid current of that river, to the great commercial 
 marts of that and other lands. 
 
 This valley is now the great hunting ground of the Califor- 
 nians. Vast herds of wild horses and elk are met with in all 
 parts of it. The latter animal, the noble elk, is hunted by the 
 Spaniards for his hide and tallow. These people go out in 
 large companies, with fleet horses, and lasso them as th y do 
 the bullocks near the coast. The deer also, and antelope, are 
 found here in great numbers ; and are killed for the same pur- 
 pose. The grisly bear inhabits thi» mountain sides and upper 
 vales. These are so numerous, fat and large, that a common- 
 sized merchant ship might be laden with oil from the hunt of 
 a single season. 
 
 On the western side of the mouth of the San Joaquim, there 
 is a vast tract of marshy land, and some hundreds of low isl- 
 ands in the Upper Bay, which are saturated by the tides. The 
 usual ebb and flow at this place is about four feet j conse- 
 quently this low surface is enriched every year by the sedi- 
 ment of the vernal freshets, and yields an immense growth of 
 rushes. These grounds would probably make the best rice 
 lields in North America. The water of the tides is either en- 
 tirely fresh or very slightly brackish : it may easily be let in 
 upon the field at flood, and drawn off at ebb. These Tulares, 
 as the Californians call them, those thousand isles and those 
 great rush wastes, will, it is believed, be the only rice-fields 
 of any value on the Pacific coast of the continent. A noble 
 and «' iluable vale is that of the San Joaquim ; six hundred 
 miles of prairies covered with grass and wild oats, cut by 
 streams, shaded with lofty forests ! Prairies, some ten, some 
 twenty, others one hundred miles in extent, overhung by jut- 
 ting promontories, crowned with gigantic forests, the wild 
 grains, grasses, cattle, horses, leaping deer, the grisly beai 
 and the stately elk, tossing his antlers to the breezes, are 
 elements of its present state. And we may expect when the 
 ox treads the furrow, and the axe, and the flail, awaken their 
 music on the plains, that the arable portions will be reclaimed 
 28* 
 
 I'M "■ 
 
330 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 i 
 
 and rendered fruitful, while the prairies will give sustenance 
 to immense herds of domestic animals. 
 
 Rio Sacramento. — The Rio Sacramento is much larger 
 than the San Joaquim, and its valley contains a much greater 
 quantity of fertile land. The r uth of this river is a little 
 north of that of the San Joaquim. Indeed these two streams 
 mingle their waters around a considerable island which lies 
 before the mouth of each. They both enter the eastern ex- 
 tremity of the Bay of San Francisco, about seventy miles 
 from the Pacific. It is two days' hard rowing from the mouth 
 of this river to the junction of its two principal branches, 
 called " the forks." At the mouth the soil is peaty, and over- 
 flowed by the spring tides. As you advance higher, where 
 the tide has no influence, the soil becomes substantial, pro- 
 ducing roses, arbutus, and other shrubs, most luxuriantly, as 
 well as the wildcats and rye. These grains, resowing them- 
 selves from year to year, produce perpetual food for the wild 
 animals and Indians. These plains are burned over every 
 year by the Indians ; and the consequence is, that the young 
 trees, which would otherwise have grown into forests, are 
 destroyed, and the large trees often killed. Nevertheless, the 
 oak, the plane tree, of immense size, the ash, of an excellent 
 quality, covered with the wild grape vines, fringe the stream 
 everywhere, and divide the country into beautiful glades and 
 savannas, which, when the leaves are fading, when the grape 
 hangs in the greatest profusion on the limbs, and the deep 
 red flowers of autumn dot the grassy fields, and birds sing 
 their melancholy hymns to the dying year, give the finest 
 picture that the mind can conceive, of a beautiful wilderness. 
 The water of the Sacramento is very pure. Its banks from 
 the mouth to the forks are entirely alluvial, a deposit of sand 
 and clay. The bottom varies from a very loose mud and 
 quicksand to a stiff red clay. 
 
 The forks lie in Lat. 38«> 46' 47" N., and Long. O*' 47' 31 
 East of Yerba Buena, near the entrance of the Bay of San Fran- 
 cisco. The stream is navigable for small craft to the forks in 
 
*l 
 
 TRAVELS IN THE CALIPORKIAS. 
 
 331 
 
 the dry season; in the rainy season and during the early part 
 of the summer, ste'^m vessels of three hundred tons measure- 
 ment can ascend its eastern branch several hundred miles 
 farther. 
 
 It is difficult to convey by means of words the exceeding 
 beauty and excellence of this portion of the valley of the 
 Sacramento. To one vfho has seen it all attempts to do so 
 must appear tame and uninteresting. I may say that the 
 linear distance from the mouth to the forks is about sixty 
 miles, and that the river in making that progress meandeis 
 one hundred and fifty ; that for the most part of this diste nee, 
 within the verge of the valley, grows a belt of oak trees, 
 about three hundred yards wide, crowded with flowering vines 
 and wild fruits, and interspersed with the lofty plane and 
 other beautiful trees, variegating the scene ; that beyond this 
 belt, on either side of the river, stand clumps of forests over the 
 endless seas of grass that reach away to the distant moun- 
 tains; and that there are many mounds of earth on these 
 great savannas built unknown ages ago by the Indians, from 
 which to gaze over these surpassing regioji , and to view in 
 safety the rush of the spring-floods covering the country far 
 and near. And should I continue the attempt to lead the 
 reader on, despite the certainty that he will not gain thereby 
 the conception of it which I desire to convey to him, I 
 might state that it is an open champaign country, cut on the 
 east side of the river by numerous beautiful tributaries skirted 
 with timber, and on the west dotted and striped with groves and 
 lakes, and that this is one of the richest grazing and agricul- 
 tural districts of the Californias. During the rainy season, the 
 river rises from eighteen to twenty-four feet, and overflowing 
 immense tracts of prairies, produces a succession of beautiful 
 lakes, through which its floods rush towards the Gulf. From 
 the upper country are thus brought down great quantities of 
 rich loam, which are deposited upon the lower plains, rendering 
 them as productive and beautiful as the banks of the Nile. 
 From ten to thirty miles distance from the river, the land 
 
 ii 
 
 '"Si 
 
332 
 
 8CENI8 IN THE PACIVIC. 
 
 if 
 
 begins to rise rapidly ; the open vales creep up into the 
 heights among brooks and forests, till lost in the wilderness 
 of white; red, and yellow pine, and live and white oak, whose 
 gigantic trunks stud the mountains to the regions of perpetual 
 frost. 
 
 These branches of the Sacramento are strong dashing 
 mountain streams. The eastern one rises among the Sierras 
 Nevadas, or snowy mountain range, about three hundred miles 
 cast of Cape Mendocino : and has a southwesterly tortuous 
 course of nearly seven hundred miles to the forks. This is 
 the largest branch of the Sacramento. It is navigable for 
 small craft, as before observed, several hundred miles during the 
 wet season, and will be very uselul in floating down the val- 
 uable timber of its vales, and of the mountain sides, to less 
 woody regions around the bay. A beautiful chain of open 
 plains, with a rich soil, watered by numerous streams and 
 rivulets, and skirted by the finest forests, extends the distance 
 of seventy or eighty miles up this branch. At this point, in 
 Latitude 39^ 35' N., are the first rapids. Here the traveller 
 to and from Oregon, fords the river in the dry season. The 
 stream is here about one hundred and twenty yards wide, with 
 four feet of water in the channel, and a swift current. In the 
 winter and spring the depth of water at this ford is ten or fif- 
 teen feet 
 
 At this place commences the southerly siope of the Snowy 
 Mountains ; and the whole aspect and charac r of the country 
 becomes still more beautiful and valuable. The soil on the 
 hills is admirably adapted to the growth of forest trees j and 
 the prairies wind among the wooded elevations and along the 
 ])anks of delightful streams, clothed with the richest and most 
 varied abundance of vegetable productions, crowned with 
 countless blossoms, and sending out on the air the most grate- 
 ful perfumes. And these plains and wooded hills reach to the 
 Snowy Mountains, where in Latitude 40° there is an easy 
 passage to the valley of Smith River. This portion of these 
 
TRAVI'LS IN THE CALIPORNTAS. 
 
 333 
 
 mountains, lying on the track of our description, deservey espe- 
 cial notice. 
 
 A spur of rugged hills puts off here from it, and runs down 
 southwardly between these principal branches of the Sacra- 
 mento to its forks. These heights are manifestl} of volcanic 
 origin ; and Mr. Kelly suggests " that as they abound in 
 basaltic and vitrified stones, scoriae, &c., they be ciilled the 
 volcanic range." Along their base stretches a bea'Uifnl 
 chain of prairies for seventy or eighty miles, watered by nume- 
 rous rivulets. In this volcanic ridge I found a stratum of earth 
 which the Mexicans call tepetaie, and which forms a cement, 
 when covered by water, or buried so far below the earth as 
 to retain moisture. It is so soft as to be easily penetrated by 
 an iron bar ; but it becomes as solid and impenetrable as a 
 rock, on being exposed to the sun or wind. The general as- 
 pect of this range is rude and black. The minor hills are 
 covered with dark-colored iron-stones of all shapes, with 
 sharp edges resembling clinkers in the arches of a brick-kiln ; 
 and with reddish clay and grav?l, appearing like pulverised 
 brick. It is the work of volcanic £res, and may properl'- bear 
 the name which our worthy countryman has given it. 
 
 The western main branch of the Sacramento is nearly eq..al 
 in size to the eastern. It di: charges nearly as much water, 
 but gathers it from less space. It rises among a lofly cluster 
 of the Snowy Mountains about thirty miles from the sea, and 
 running in a south by easterly direction about two hundred 
 miles, meets the other branch at the forks, with a generous 
 flood of beautiful waters. The tributaries of ihU are not so 
 large merous as those of the eastern branch ; and the 
 
 same i be said of the prairies that border it j but they are 
 quite as charming. They stretch along by the rushing waters 
 among the heights, loaded with evergreen forests, like fairy 
 paths of olden tales j rich, rich, glorious to behold j beauty 
 reposing in the lap of the giant mountains ; to whom the 
 sounding streams give music ; to whom the mountain dews 
 give jewels, and the wild flowers incense. Were I to be ex- 
 
 i 
 
 1' 
 
 ■.V-? 
 
 II 
 
 
 ■1,1 
 
334 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 iled from human kind — and cast off from the sight of woman 
 wife and child,— and deprived of the deep pulsations of joy 
 which cluster around the holy altar of home, that old Saxon 
 citadel of the virtues, I would pray for a cave in these 
 heights and among these streamy vales. 
 
 The timber trees on this part of the southern slope, as far 
 northward as 40*^, are worthy of notice. • The white pine is 
 very abundant and of a large growth. Several kinds of oak are 
 also plentiful, the most common of which is the encina hlanca, 
 white oak. Its average height is forty feet — its trunk six or 
 eight feet in girth, with a profusion of branches, which grow 
 together with the compactness of a hedge, and in perfect 
 symmetry of form, like the rounded tops of an apple orchard. 
 The live oak — qtiercus virens — is very abundant, and grows 
 only on the highlands. Its diameter is usually from three to 
 four feet ; its altitude sixty or seventy. This timber is equal 
 to any of the kind in the world in solidity, strength and dura- 
 bility. 
 
 But the noblest specimen of this tree found in the territory 
 of the Sacramento, is the white oak proper, the quercus nava- 
 lis. It grows on the river banks and the low hills of the prai- 
 ries. A fine tree it is ; not only on account of its excellent 
 qualities as timber ; but for its lordly trunk, which one might 
 almost say preserved an uniform diameter, its whole length. 
 And the actual fact is, that it not unfrequently attains a girth 
 of fifteen feet, at ten or fifteen feet from the root, and the 
 branches possess corresponding dimensions, and extend a 
 prodigious distance horizontally from the stem.* 
 
 • KeUy. 
 
'p 
 
 i 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 JcRUS Maria River and Valley — Sierra Nevadas — Clamet Uivcr and 
 Valley — The Coast Belt — Climate of the California^ — 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 diiTerent. 
 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 kinds 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 
 
 'li 
 
 
 
 m 
 
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. Tht great Bay of San Fran- 
 cisco on the south, and the Bay of L )dega 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 is about 
 fifty miles wide and one hundred in length. The Clamet 
 river waters 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 tw^o 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 breaks 
 
* t 
 
 TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIA S. 
 
 337 
 
 tumultuously through a range of high hills, and meets tide- 
 water ; and thence proceeds in a northwesterly direction to 
 the Ocean. The 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 sno^vs. The highlands on the north 
 are generally covered by trees, with rugged crags 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 cetlar tree, 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 
 passes 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- 
 tary. These sometimes occur in the forests ; 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. 
 29 
 
 
 1! 
 
338 
 
 SCENES IN THU PACIFIC 
 
 There is one tree here also in great abundance, which d^es 
 not prevail on any other part of the northwesi coast ; a spe- 
 cies of Myrtus — the largest of which measure twelve feet in 
 jjifth, and one hundred feet in height. All its leaves, wood 
 and fruit, are strongly aromatic, yielding an odor like Myrtus 
 PimentOt* and producing sneezing like pepper. The fruit is 
 large, globular, and covered with a fine green ikin, enveloping a 
 small nut with an insipid kernel, which the squi.rel eats with a 
 great relish. So fragrant is this tree, that, whe> llie groves are ' 
 moved by the wind, a delicious perfume jfills all the surround- 
 ing air. 
 
 The soil on the open plains of this delightful vale is very 
 rich ; and, sinqe 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 Sno>vy 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 tiiu world more 
 iargelv ind 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 en 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 
 growih 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 t<ees ; where the wife, faith- 
 ful in her love to her husband, and true to all the holy instincts 
 of the mother, shall o/Ter her pure heart's lindivided 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 h ^ai t to flint, and his affections 
 into fountains of gall. 
 
 The Valley of the Clamet will be lighted from the hearths 
 of happy homes ere long, and will be der«<^ly peopled. 
 
 * Douglu. 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIA S. 
 
 339 
 
 
 Sixty rniles square of productive soil, surroj^nded with every 
 beauty of mountain and forest, sprinkled with sweet groves, 
 and threaded with streams of pure water, all under a genial 
 climate, 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 west 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 between 
 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 oncoming 
 pages. 
 
 Climate. — For the space of seventy-five miles northward 
 from the Cape San Lucas, the air is moistened by the vupors 
 of ihe sea and the exhalations from many parts of the ground. 
 The earth is watered by numerous little currents running 
 among the hijls, 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 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC 
 
 distance of the ii^erior 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. 
 
 i 
 
# 
 
 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 from reaching it ; and if any other winds are active, the 
 monotonous level of the 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 the sea, to temper the 
 air, and render it more healthful and agreeable. 
 
 The climate of that portion of the Californias which lies 
 between the Marine 
 
 ige 
 
 fe- ^' 
 
 
 :^. 
 
 '\.ii 
 
 11 
 
 
 
 29' 
 
 11 
 
342 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 pressions of admiration from every traveller in the country 
 since it was discovered. But in oi;;der 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 lOS*' or 110^ Fahrenheit, in still summer wea- 
 ther J 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 smrll and few in number. 
 And yet this is doubtless as fine a climate as can be found. 
 No 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 
 imderstood. 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 
 frixohj 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 CALIFORNIA 8. 
 
 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 arc 
 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 ol 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 of 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 : 
 
 
 
 
 ■'^li 
 
 « 4i 
 
 ^ 
 
 ■-■Hi 
 
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 df 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 
 vater marshes about the mouths of these streams are capable 
 of being turned into fields for the production of this grain, at 
 very trifling expense. Indeed, it may be confidently csserted, 
 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 smolce, 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 
 
 
''> 'i 
 
 r> "i 
 
 TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIA S. 
 
 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- 
 lishment's. 
 
 " 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." 
 
 The 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- 
 
 n 
 
 jtfU 
 
 ri 
 
 
 :•%.* 
 
 lie 
 
 s, were sent up 
 
 from Senora, who performed the double 
 
346 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACiriC. 
 
 duty of soldiers for the protcf Jon 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 now 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 ray excellent friend. Dr. Lyman. 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIAS. 
 
 347 
 
 " 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 senalj ownership of the calf follow- 
 ing her, is easily made apparent, by placing a similar sencU 
 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 
 senalf is that the owner may know his calf in rttKe 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 senaly separate them, 
 and brand with a hot iron the owner's hicrro, 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 * ventaf* 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." 
 
 I ■ 
 
 •■I 
 
 m 
 
 •t. 
 
CHAPTER XX. 
 
 Los Presidios. — Los Missionfis. — Los Pueblos.— Harbors. — Inhabit- 
 ants. — Meztizos. — Whites. 
 
 The Presidios of the Californias are fortresses occupied by 
 a few troops under the command of a military prefect. These 
 posts were originally established for several purposes j 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 Presidios were under the absolute 
 control of the Padres. The Padre President, or bishop of 
 each of these provinces, was the civil, lilitary, 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 Diego, 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 El Puebla de los Angelos ; the Presidio 
 
!1 
 
 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 Fueblo of Monterey, and the vUla of Brauci forte j 
 the Presidio de San Francisco, situate on the San F ancisco 
 Bay, Latitude 37° N., having under its jurisdiction the Mis 
 sions Santa Cruz, San JosC*, Santa Clara, San Francisco, San 
 Rafael, San Francisco Solana, and the Pueblos, Yerba Buena 
 and San Jose de Guadelupe. 
 
 The structures of these Presidios consist of walls of imburnt 
 brick, twelve feet in height, enclosing an area of about one 
 thousand square yards, within which are the house of the 
 Commandantej and the barracks of the troops. 
 
 At a short distance from the Presidios are what are called 
 castillosy 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 supplying 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 
 30 
 
 
 
 
 m 
 
350 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIVIC. 
 
 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 arc of stone j and being whitewashed by way of pre- 
 eminence among the Indian dwellings, make an imposing 
 appearance upon the lofly hills, on the borders of the sea, or 
 the rich spreading plains among the green highlands. 
 
 Each of the establishments is designed to have two priests. 
 This intention, however, is not always carried out. More 
 commonly one priest, with his raajor-<lomo, and several sub- 
 ordinate officers 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 ages 
 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 center, the cross, the images of 
 the Saviour and the Saints, pictures of Paradise and Hell. 
 These, the costly dresses of the priests, and the imposing 
 processions and ceremonies 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 
 ChrLsti and other great festal occasions ; at which times the 
 
he 
 
 TRAVELS IIV THE CALIFORNIA S. 
 
 351 
 
 Iressod 
 
 skirts 
 
 scarlet 
 
 bodices, or other colons suitable to the occasion. Every In- 
 dian, male and female, is obliged to attend the worship ; and 
 if they lag behind, a large Icaihern thong, at the end cf 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, 
 >vith a broad aisle between them. In this aisle are stationed 
 men with whips and goads to enforce order and silence, and 
 keep them in a kneeling posture. By this arrangement, the 
 untamed and vicious are generally made willing to comply 
 with the forms of the service. In addition to these restraints, 
 a guard of soldiers with Hxed bayonets occupies one end of 
 the church, who may suppress by their more powerful wea- 
 pons any strong demonstrations against this comfortable mode 
 of worshipping God. The choirs of the churches are composed 
 of Indians, who perform quite well upon various kinds of 
 instruments, and chant with considerable musical accuracy 
 It is due to the Padres to say, that they devote nearly all their 
 time to the good of the converts ; and, bating the objections 
 which we have to the manner of conversion, and of sustaining 
 them in the way of grace, no fault can be found with them. 
 They treat them like children, and appear to have a sincere 
 concern that they should live and die in the arms of that 
 faith, which they believe to be the only guide of the soul in 
 its way to Heaven. 
 
 Los Pueblos, &c. — Los Pueblos, or villages, are small 
 towns which ^re w up near the Missions. Their first inhabitants 
 consisted of Spanish emigrants from different parts of Mexico. 
 But to these were afterwards added such soldiers of the Pre- 
 sidios as obtained permission from the King of Spain to retire 
 from the service and marry Indian women. Those in Upper 
 California which had this origin are Pueblo de los Angelos, in 
 Latitude 34° 10' N., and Pueblo de San Jose de Guadeloupe, in 
 Latitude 36^ 50' N. In later times another has been established 
 
 ];< 
 
 wW 
 
 '% 
 
 P 
 
 if" 
 
 ^li 
 
 i|: 
 
 Pi 
 
 
 i'i 
 
 
 1f^^ 
 
 ■ ■ ;>; 
 
 rX^-\ 
 
 " r.'S 
 
 m 
 
353 
 
 3CENF. S IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 by American emigrants on the Bay uf San Francisco called 
 Yerba Bueno, and another on the waters of the Sacramento, 
 by a owiss gentleman named Sutcr. 
 
 The Villas are towns of somewhat less dignity than the 
 Pueblos. The principal of these is situated on ihe north side 
 of Monterey Bay, near the Mission Santa Cruz. It is called 
 Branciforte. There are several others growing up in various 
 parts of the country, which are yet too small and unimportant 
 to be noticed. 
 
 Harbors. — The seaward coast of the Californias, extending 
 through twenty degrees of Latitude, has only two good harbors. 
 There arp indeed very many roadsteads and bays., where vessels 
 anchor with considerable safety, and iake in and di.^charge 
 cargoes ; but they are all exposed to some of the prevailing 
 winds. The only well-protected harbor is San Diego, lying 
 in Latitude 33° 17' N. This is land-locked — without surf, 
 with a smooth hard sand beach, and free from rocks and 
 stones. But it is much less in extent — and far less valuable 
 to commerce than the Bay of San Francisco. 
 
 The Bay of San Francisco is the glory of the Western 
 world. Its mouth lies in Latitude 37" 58'. The water on 
 the bar is eight ifathoms at low tide. The mountains on 
 either hand rise several hundred feet above tl.e sea, and form 
 fine land-mp.rks in foggy weather to point out the bar, and 
 the channel into the harbor. The capes at the ocean's edge 
 are about two miles apart ; always verdant and refreshing to 
 the eye ; and, as you go up the passage, the little strif^ams 
 tutabling from the rocks among the greenwood, and the wild 
 game, standing out on the clifl^i, or frohcking among the 
 brush, and the seal barking in the water, give promise of 
 pleasure and rest from the toils of the sea. 
 
 This passage is about five milfs in icnolli. Four and a 
 half miles from the ceipes it narrows considerably, and pre- 
 sents a bold point north and south. On the smthern one 
 stands the Presido or fort, on which this mi^rhty harbor con- 
 descends to depend for protection. The fort is in tu'im, A 
 
f- 
 
 TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIAS. 
 
 353 
 
 dozen old rusty guns in the care of thirty or forty half-clad 
 half-breed solilicrs, usually foraging in squads of five or ten 
 among the neighboring Missions ; one side of its walls tum- 
 bled down, and another strongly disposed to plfnge into the 
 sea, and not the tenth of a true soliiicr's heart beating for a 
 hundred miles around, is a true summing up of its present 
 strength. 
 
 The house of the commandant, situated in one corner, is 
 a respectable whitewashed pile of mud and bricks. On the 
 other corner of the same side is the chapel, also built of mud : 
 a fdthy place for Avorship. On another side are artificers' 
 shops and a prison. The two other sides are broken down, 
 not by the flying metal of brave conflict, but by the gentle 
 pattering of the rains; the ruins co nod with bones! not the 
 bones of fearless men, who have fallen in the brench, throw- 
 ing their gushing blooti in the face of a conquering foe ; but 
 the bones of beeves that have been gnawed by the garrison 
 during years of valorous eating, Densely manned, also, are 
 these piles of adobie and osseous ruins, not with rank and fde 
 of mailed warriors, but with ihirs, vultures, and jackals. 
 This is Fort San Francisco, one of the strongest posts in ihc 
 Calilbrnias. Heaven help its" dogs, vultures, and jackals, in 
 case of a siege ! 
 
 Six miles from the capes at the mouth, and at the point 
 where it begins to open into the Hay, are two small islands 
 on which forts might be convi iiiently built, that would com- 
 mand the narrows, and also the entra>ice iato both the north 
 and soulh parts of the bay. Indeed, ihe whole bay is go 
 studded with islands easily fi)rtifird, and so overhung by 
 headlands, which of themselves are fortresses, that a party in 
 possession of them could h(dd the lliy against vast odds, and 
 in compaiative security. From the narrows to the northern 
 point of the Day is twenty-four miles, and to the south-east- 
 ern point thirty-five nii!e>. 
 
 The southern half of the l>ay varies from fourteen to fifteen, 
 the nortliern half troiu four to twenty miles in width. In 
 30* 
 
 H 
 
 I 
 
 -ri 
 
 ,'f: ! 
 
354 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 every part of this large tract of water is good holding ground, 
 and on all its shores are coves in which vessels of any tonnage 
 may lie snug and secure from storms, within a cable's length 
 of the land. In the NW. corner of the Bay is the inlet of 
 the Rio Sacramento. It is about one and three-fourth miles 
 wide for the distance of seven miles, and ihen spreads out 
 into a bay seven miles wide, and twelve in length, when it 
 narrows down to four miles for the distance of two miles 
 and a half, then widens to seven or eight miles the distance 
 of eleven miles, with islands in the centre, then narrows to 
 four miles for the distance of three miles, and then it widens 
 into a bay about twenty miles north and south, and about the 
 same distance east and west, studded with nine islands. 
 On the east of it, between the mouth of the Sacramento 
 and the Bay, lies one about liftcen miles in length, NE. and 
 SW. ; and of a breadth varying from three miles to ten. 
 All these islands are low and marshy. On the southern point 
 of this large island comes in the Rio San Joaquim, .ind on 
 tlic northern point of it is the northern mouth of the Sacra- 
 mento. 
 
 On the south side of the promontory on which stands the 
 fort, Castillo de San Francisco, is a little village called Yerba 
 Bueno. As the harbor in which foreign vessels refit and pur- 
 chase supplies lies in front of Yerba Bueno, it will scarcely 
 be imparting any fact not legitimately inferable from their 
 known character, to say that the Yankees have built and 
 inhabit this town. These descendants of the lungs and nobles 
 of the old Saxon Heptarchy, knighled and ennobled anew by 
 the physical and mental con(iuests over the wilderness of 
 America and over the oppressions of their Norman conquerors, 
 the reigning families and nobles of Great Britain, have built 
 up an empire of mind on which the sun never sets. In the 
 Bay of San Francisco is Yerba Bueno. In the Sandwich 
 Islands a nation is spoken into being. The Chinese seas are 
 burdened with its ships. On the coast of Africa the emanci- 
 pated slave un<\nl3 the banner of Freedom over the fortunes 
 
T R A V E I. & IN THE C A M F R N I A S. 
 
 355 
 
 of an independent national existence, and almost the entire 
 habitable parts of tliis great continent are feelinf^ and enjoy- 
 ing the impulses to human Freedom which the American 
 Saxons sent out to the race on the 'l-'ourth of July, 1776. 
 These Yankees at Yerba Bueno employ themse'ves in their 
 characteristic business of jloing everything. 
 
 The surpassing beauty and magnificence of this harbor of 
 San Francisco can never be properly estimated by being 
 viewed from th 'and. One must app'^oach it from the sea ; 
 have a full vie the lofty shores north and south, rising 
 
 at intervals into lo. y ppaks girded at their bases with prime- 
 val forests of evergreen cedars and pines mottled with the 
 boughs of the oak, the ash, and the plane. The bar which 
 springs from the northern headlands of its entrance, and, run- 
 ning beneath the blue waters of the Pacific from five to nine 
 fathoms, causes a belt of surf to roll across the mouth, must 
 be passed. A breeze must bear your bark over and along 
 the dangerous rocks three quarters of a mile inside on the 
 right, quarrelling with the surges; and onward four miles 
 between the projecting clifls, overhanging peaks and verdant 
 woodlands filled with starting deer and other game, to the 
 harbor at the narrows beneath the fort ; and thence onv^ard 
 still past the fort and the islands lying across the entrance ; 
 and the Bay is seen ! a broad sheet of watt i' stretching oflj 
 north and south, the largest and best harbor of the earth, sui'^ 
 roun<led by a country, partly wooded, and partly disposed 
 in open gla«les and prairies of the richest kind, covered 
 with the flocks and herds of the Missions, and deer, and elk, 
 and bears. And amid tlio bcautitul hills of the souu. .nd east 
 wk: Santa Clara, El Pueblo San Jose, and Mission San Jose ; 
 and on the southern peninsula, five miles widr, is San Fran- 
 cisco, Yerba Bueno, the ti ading-house of the Hudson Bay 
 Fur Company, the Presidio and the Castillo ; on the north- 
 ern peninsula is San Rafael, and in the north San Francisco 
 Solano ; a group of beauty and grandeur, that knows no 
 superior in any clime. 
 
 ■i 
 
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 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 White Inhabitants. — The policy of the Catholic priest.v 
 who conquered these countries, and who held altsolute sway 
 over their destinies until the Mexican Revolutiun, was to dis- 
 courage settlements. The reasons for this course on their 
 part were, that the Indians could be more easily controlled 
 by them, in the absence of other persons claiming larger free- 
 dom than they themselves were then fitted to enjoy. In order 
 to carry out these views, therefore, they used all their influ- 
 ence with the Vice-regal Government of Mexico to prevent 
 emigration thither, and were ever watchful to enforce upon 
 the soldiers of the Missions that law of Spain which prohibits 
 them to marry without the express consent of the crown. 
 
 And hence it is that from 17G9 to 1813 only six free vil- 
 lages or towns have been founded in the Californias. And 
 the free white and half-breed inhabitants of these extensive 
 territories number at this day less than six thousand. 
 
 Their character is quite peculiar. The half-breed, as might 
 be expected, exhibits much of the Indian character ; the dul! 
 suspicious countenance, the small twinhling piercing eye, the 
 laziness and filth of a free brute, using freedom as the mere 
 means of animal enjoyment. This class of Californians usu- 
 ally compose the soldiery of the Presidios, and the herdsmen 
 of the Ranches or plantations, and in these capacities perhaps 
 perform their duties as well as their white relatives do theirs. 
 However, it should here be stated that as soldiers it makes no 
 kind of difference in the exhibition of their bravery, whether 
 their guns have either lock, stock, or barrel ; for never, in a 
 single instance, since the country was settled, have the Cali- 
 fornian troops been so wanting in courage as to fire at an 
 enemy^ unless he were in a helpless condition, nor so wanting 
 in discretion as to wait to be fired at, when there was a 
 chance to run away in safety. 
 
 The intelligence of these meztizos, as they are called, is 
 quite limited ; and wrhat little they do possess, is of very 
 doubtful utility. For it seems to be used chiefly in directing 
 their choice of shade trees, under which they shall spend the 
 
TRAVELS IN 
 
 HE CALIFORNIA S. 
 
 357 
 
 day in sloth, or in stealing a bullock's hide on which to throw 
 their lazy carcasses at night. Their dress, when they chance 
 to have any, is composed of neat's hide tanned and stamped 
 like certain species of saddle-leather. This is made into short 
 roundabouts, which are buttoned up tightly in front. Of the 
 same material they make loose pantaloons, leaving the outer 
 seam open to the knee, and at intervals higher up, for the 
 purpose, as it seemed, from what I daily saw, of enabling 
 thera with greater facility to kill their fleas and lice. On 
 their feet they wear sandals of raw bull's hide ; their heads 
 are generally without any other covering than their long dark 
 hair, usually in anything but a cleanly condition. In some 
 instances, however, they don an ancient sombrero, long a;^o 
 worn out in the service of some ragged cavallero. Ihese 
 people generally speak both the Indian and Spanish tongues, 
 and are equally familiar with the ignorance accompanying 
 the one, and the arrogance and self-conceit inherent in the 
 other. 
 
 A jolly set of people are these mcztizos, when found awake 
 with a little brandy in their heads. Tlie elasticity of their 
 importance is then a vcs> perceptible trait in their notions of 
 themselves. I have but to imagine myself under the large 
 tree near the Bay of Monterey, among a group of Ihem which 
 I once met there, in order to give the reader a peep at them. 
 It is a fine day in April, the flowers cover the ground; and the 
 leaves of the trees on the hills are large enoi.gh to make the 
 forests green ; the swells of the Pacific are breaking on the 
 shore hard by, and a half-dozcn mcztizos are dancing 
 and vomiting as occasion or inclination appears to re(|uire. 
 Look at Ihem ; when it chances to be possible to retain any- 
 thing in their mouths long enough (o afford a traitsit to the 
 interior, the native brandy from the Missions is whispering 
 f»nd babbling its way over the palate and downward ; a gur- 
 gling stream full of Lethe, hiccoughs, and other precious 
 couimodlties that anon reappear. 
 
 They talk and sing ot their parentage ; the one is proud 
 
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358 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 thai his father was an Indian of immense form, who lived on 
 the head-waters of the San Joaquim, whose head brushed the 
 boughs of the loftiest cedars, and whose arrows were often 
 dulled against the brazen sides of the sun. Another plumes 
 himself upon his Spanish blood. His great grandsire was a 
 boatswain on board of some Spanish brig, the keel of which 
 broke the Pacific waves when the white man brought the 
 holy cross and tobacco seed into the Californias. Right 
 merry fellows these, and whether drunk or sober, show a 
 degree of consideration for their noble selves which would 
 appear entirely marvellous and extraordinary in any countr}' 
 not inhabited by the successors of the worthy and knightly 
 Quixote, Sancho, and Rosinante. 
 
 That part of the population which by courtesy are called 
 white, are the descendants of the free settlers from Mexico 
 and the soldiers of the garrisons and Missions, who were per- 
 mitted by his most Catholic Majesty to take wives. Their 
 complexion is a light clear bronze ; not white, as they them- 
 selves quite erroneously imagine; and, withal, not a very 
 seemly color ; not remarkably pure in any way ; a lazy color ; 
 and for that reason, rather out of place, associated as it is, 
 with large dark flashing eyes, a finely chiselled Roman nose, 
 and teeth as clear and sound as pearl. Looking at the mere 
 exterior of these men, the observer would most probably come 
 to the conclusion that they were somewhat humanized. The 
 speaking gait, the bland gesture ot complaisant regard, the 
 smile, that ray of the soul, all seem civilized — truly Castilian. 
 The wide-brimmed and conical crowned sombrero also, with 
 its rope-like silver cord band, well be-tasselled, shoes and 
 shoe-bucklcs, pantaloons well openec! at the side senms, 
 showing the snow-white flaunting drawers, the snugly-fitted 
 roundabout, with its spherical silver buttons, and the largely 
 proportioned vest, swinging loosely to the wind, the keen 
 Spanish knife sitting snugly in its sheath along the calf of 
 the leg, all would indii ate to the sojourner of a day among 
 them, that these Castiliano* Californios were accustomed to 
 
■ ? 
 
 TRAVELS IW THE CALIFORNIAS. 
 
 359 
 
 be men fulfilling some of the important ends of existence, in 
 a worthy and gentlemanly way. And so they do, as under- 
 stood in the Californias. They rise in the morning, that is to 
 s^y, before noon-day, from their couches of blankets or bulls' 
 hides, and breakfast upon broiled or boiled beef and fried 
 beans. After breakfast, they muster a tinder-box from the 
 pocket, strike fire, light cigars made of tobacco rolled up in 
 little slips of paper, till the ignited weed burns and discolors 
 their thumb and fore-finger aristocratically, and then betake 
 themselves to their napping again. Thus stands or lies their 
 humanity till the dinner hour. Roast hcef, /rijoles, and cho- 
 colate, brandy and wine, if, indeed, Senor Poverty own a 
 corkscrew and its appendages, make up the matCriel of this 
 event. And having eaten and drunken liberally, Senor 
 crosses himself reverently over his [;;astric apparatus, lays him- 
 self carefully upon his couch, and gives himself and his diges- 
 tion to his guitar, till chocolate comes at sun-set, to bedew 
 his inner man for the sbjmbers of the night. Thus wc have a 
 glance at los homhrcs Califoniios. 
 
 Whenever want or a revulsion of nature long unused, drives 
 these people to corporeal exercise, they, true to their laziness, 
 make the horse perform the greater part of it. Indeed, a 
 Californian is never the half of himself unless he be on horse- 
 back. And to go abroad for any purpose without a saddle 
 under him would, in his opinion, be as ritiiculous as to break- 
 fast without beans, or be a Christian without praying to the 
 Saints. They are excellent horsemen ; the very best in North 
 America ; and, I am inclined to believe, the best on the con- 
 tinent. Be this opinion right or wrong, it will be interesting 
 to know them as they are. I will present the horse part 
 first, as the most interesting portion of a Californian cavallero. 
 There is no better animal than the Californian cavallo. He 
 presents all colors — from black to white, dappled, mixed and 
 shviffled together in the most beautiful confusion. His head 
 and neck are lightly made — his eye burns with that kindly 
 yet unquenchable fire so peculiar to his progenitors, the An- 
 
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360 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC, 
 
 (lalusian Arabian steeds. His chest is broad and full, his loins 
 well knit, and closely laid to the ribs, his limbs clean, slen- 
 der, and sinewy ; the embodiment of the matchless wild horse 
 of a tureen and sunny wilderness. His gear is peculiar. The 
 bridle is anything but a time-serving check upon his pro- 
 pensities. Its demands are thoroughly peremptory, as will be 
 seen by a little attention to its construction. It has a bit 
 without a joint, so doubled, as to extend four or five inches 
 back into the mouth, and instt ad of a curb, a solid iron ring 
 passes through the upper part of the curved bit, and around 
 the lower jaw ; so that when the rein is drawn, the doubled 
 portion of the bit prying open the mouth, the iron ring acts 
 with such force thai the under jaw may be broken at the will 
 of the rider. The saddle is made up of a number of articles ; 
 as a piece of bull's hide on the back of the horse ; on this, a 
 Spanish saddle-tree lashed as tightly as an ordinary man can 
 do it, and over all a grisly bear skin. The stirrups are oblong 
 blocks of woojI, four or five pounds weight, six inches in 
 diameter one way, and three in the other, with holes in them 
 through which It) thrust tlie feet. In front, and attached to 
 the stirrup-straps, are suspended round pieces of sole leather 
 prettily stamped, which fall over and protect the feet from the 
 prickly pear, under-brush, &c., through which it may be 
 desirable to ride. 
 
 The horse, accoutred in this way, is prepared for service. 
 And the Indian who has rigged him, stands with him at the 
 door waiting for the Don rider, who, after sufHcicnt delay to 
 be respectable, makes his appearance. His spurs are a 
 curiosity; their weight is a pound and a half; the part hold- 
 ing the rowel is five inches long ; and the teeth of the rowel 
 wheels are one and a half inches in lenoth ! And now all 
 being ready, leather breeches is released, the Don is off on a 
 full gallop ; it is death or banishment for a Califbrnian horse 
 to trot^ No man can ride better than one of these Dons. He 
 leans forward sufTiciently to give him command of his body, 
 holds his rein lightly in his left hand, feeling that he is perfect 
 
t^\f 
 
 TRAVELS IN THE CAMPORNIAS. 
 
 361 
 
 master of llu; anininl, and riding fearlessly over the l)i inks of 
 precipices, into rushing streams, and elsewhere, in places 
 where the coward dare not go, unless borne by his Icailess 
 and faithful steed. 
 
 Tiiesc bronze Californians, when on horseback, however, 
 are by no means contemptible in some few respects. Their 
 bear himts are conducted with much spirit and liazard. Six 
 or eight, or more of them, ride into the lower ground called 
 talarcs, and make war upon a group of grisly bears, weighing 
 seven or 'eight himdred pounds each, with no other weapon 
 '-ban the lasso and a hunter's knife. This las^o is a roj)e 
 attached to the girth of the saddle at one end, and wi h a run 
 ning noose at the other. This being coik-d and hung on the 
 right hand, at full speed of the horse is thrown around the 
 neck of the bear they are pursuing, and the well-trained 
 horse wheeled to the right or left, liruin chokes himself at his 
 leisiue. Sometimes, however, the bear gives battle to his 
 pursuers, in which case, horses and sometimes men arc killed 
 and devoured. * / 
 
 On ihcfi'te day, called " Rodea," when the cattle belong- 
 ing to the Haciendas and Missions are brought in to be 
 branded, the Cavalleros have a fine opportunity to show their 
 horsemanship and iheir skill in lassoing. On such occasions, 
 the whole country side is usually assembled to engage in the 
 sports of the day, unfed except by the joys of brandy and beef 
 and beans, incident to the day. And when th^; company are 
 gathered, they sally into the plains, and drive the cattle into a 
 large curul, or enclosure ; the entrance to which is then 
 closed except so much as will allow them to escape one at a 
 time. Then commences the branding. The older members 
 of the herd, which ha\c eluded the brand at former ingather- 
 ings, are first let out ; and as they severally Issue froir. the 
 gate-way of the carol, a bevy of lasso cavalry start at full 
 speed after them, the one casting his noose around a fore leg, 
 another a hind leg, ami another the head ; and the aniir'al 
 rolls upon the plain. Immediately thereupon, the hojsemen 
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362 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 dismount, wrap their lassos about the legs, and holding down 
 the head to the ground, apply the hot iron to the shoulder of 
 the bellowing captive. In this manner they proceed from 
 day to day, until the vast herds of those estates are marked 
 with their owners' hierro. 
 
 Another and perhaps the most interesting occurrence among 
 the plantations and Missions is the annual slaughter. Every 
 year after the cattle become fat by feeding on the wild clover 
 and oats of that American Italy, thousands of them are 
 slaughtered for their hides and tallow. And for this purpose 
 they are driven into the carals, and let out in small numbers 
 as required by the Caveliier butchers. The lasso is the first 
 instrument used to bring the animals under control ; and most 
 effectual it is for that purpose. Oftentimes an hundred bullocks 
 fall around the caral in an hour's time; their skulls beaten in, 
 their hides stripped off, the tallow and fat portions of the flesh 
 secured, a few of the better pieces of the lean flesh torn off 
 for eating and drying for the use of the Indians, and the skins 
 spread upon the ground and stretched with wooden pins to 
 dry. The Missions, in the days of their prosperity, killed each 
 its thousands annually — some three, others five, eight, and ten 
 thousand ; tried out the tallow, and laid it away in vaults 
 under ground, to prevent its melting, and packed their dried 
 hides away in long low sheds, erected for their reception. 
 
 All Californians bear testimony that this is a notable day 
 among them. There are screams of delight in hurling a 
 monster of a bull upon the ground with their lassos. There 
 are untold pleasures to their brave hearts in shedding blood, 
 where there are no rifle balls whistling in their ears a sugges- 
 tion of dangers to their Castilian arteries. And more than all, 
 after the fete is over, what legitimate opportunities are offered 
 in the recollections of the day, to expand the periphery of 
 their self-complacency ; a deed which, if left undone by a 
 Californian Spaniard, when possible to be performed, would 
 involve the most flagrant breach of national character ; a de- 
 parture from the well-established laws of Californian glorifi- 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIKORNIVS. 
 
 363 
 
 cation. Indeed there never was a doubt among Californians, 
 that they were at the head of the human race. In ecnvardice, 
 ignorance, pretension, and dastardly tyranny, the reader has 
 learned that this pretension is well Ibuiidcd. 
 
 Thus much for the Spanish population of the Californias ; 
 in every way a poor apology of European extraction ; as a 
 general thing, incapable of reading or writing, and knowing 
 nothing of science or literature, nothing of government but its 
 brutal force, nothing of virtue but the sanction of the C'hurch, 
 nothing of religion but ceremonies of the national ritual. 
 Destitute of industry themselves, they compel the poor Indian 
 to iabor for them, affording him a bare savage existence for 
 his toil, upon their plantations and the fields of the Missions. 
 In a word, the Californians are an imbecile, pusillanimous, 
 race of men, and unfit to control the destinies of that beautiful 
 country. 
 
 The ladies, dear creatures, I wish they were whiter, and that 
 their cheek bones did not in their great condescension assimi- 
 late their manners and customs so remarkably to their Indian 
 neighbors. A pity it is that they have not stay and corset- 
 makers' signs among them, for they allow their waists to grow 
 as God designed they should, like Venus de Medici, that ill- 
 brti^ statue that had no kind mother to lash its vitals into 
 delicate form. Black eyes, raven locks, slender hands, elastic 
 insteps, and you have the Caliiornian ladies. 
 
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CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 Indians — Their Habitations — Ornaments — Dress— Civil State — Pood 
 — Matrimony, &c. — Navigation — Warlike Implements — Hunting 
 and Fowling — Religion — Mode of Burial, &c. — Medicine — Youtas 
 or Utav.s — Nabajos — Paiuchks, or Piutes. 
 
 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 these 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 valleys 
 of the interior are taller and more robust. Their complexion 
 is considerably darker than that of the Indians in Oregon and 
 the States ; their lips are large and projecting, and their noses 
 broad and flat, like the negro; the hair is black, coarse, and 
 straight, and when left untrimmed, reaches to the hips ; they 
 usually cut it five or six inches from the head, and this length 
 causes it to bristle out in all directions, giving the head the 
 semblance of a colossal 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 ha'-r of other parts of the body. Tattooing is one of 
 the arts of beautifying themselves, which is more resorted to 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIA S. 
 
 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 shoulders ; 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 temperature 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 
 of 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 fiuit 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 
 31* 
 
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366 
 
 SCENES 
 
 IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 by the tribes farther North and East. But the unfortunate 
 creatures have little ability to devise and 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 themselves on account of encroach- 
 ments upon each other's territories. Such occurrences 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 for the time 
 in the stir and din of night-watchings and battle, give them 
 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 impulse, the incessant love of amusements of the most 
 useless and brutal character. 
 
 When want presses them into some means of sustaining 
 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 they bruise into meal, of 
 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, rabbits, geese, ducks, quails, &.c. 
 The 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 flesh of this ani- 
 mal in holes dug in the ground and curbed up with stone like 
 
TRAVELS IN T il E C A t. I I- R, N I A S. 
 
 367 
 
 wells. Over this they build large fires, heat them 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 eat. Next to the whale they prize the seal, which 
 they cook and eat in u 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 makes 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 accompanied 
 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 laden with 
 heavy burdens ; meanwhile the lazy husband lies at full length 
 under the shade of a tree, affecting 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 principal entertainments are the 
 acting of pantomimic comedies, which their best players per- 
 form with an astonishing degree of excellence. Extremely 
 agile and graceful, they represent with vast accuracy by ges- 
 
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368 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 ticulation and dumb show, the different motions of fishing, 
 hunting, war, marriage, and whatever else is most important 
 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 
 sit flat upon the craft, soaked in water, plying their paddles. 
 Being pointed at each end, these craft are propelled either way 
 with equal facility. In calm w^eather 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 dver a 
 brisk charcoal fire with such rapidity and skill, as thoroughly 
 to parch 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 half feet 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. TheTndians use these 
 weapons with great effect. The smallest bird is killed with 
 them. Their patience, cunning and skill combined, is per- 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIAS. 
 
 C69 
 
 haps best shown, however, in their manner of killing the deer, 
 which wi'^ 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 
 river, 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 
 and tumble them into a pouch in the net from which escape 
 is impossible. 
 
 Of their religion, it is known that they believe in the con- 
 trol of good and evil spirits to wliom they occasionally offer 
 prayers. They have persons among them professing power 
 over 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 thera by the incantations of their enemies. They 
 appear to have a faint idea of a future state ; for in burning 
 their d(ad 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 ; and consider it unkind, for many months after, to 
 
 
 •r 
 
 
 W: 
 
370 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 mention the names of the dead in the presence of the surviving, 
 and thus renew their grief. Their respect for the truly vaUant 
 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, entirely 
 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 remedies 
 for all diseases among the Indians of Upper California ; 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 breadth j 
 less or more according to the size of the patient. Over this a 
 fire is kept burning 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, 
 and covered with the heated sand up to the neck. By this 
 means a protracted and profuse perspiration is produced, in 
 the midst of which the patient plunges into a stream or the 
 sea. 
 
 The hot air bath is prepared as follows. A bole 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 pole?, 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 
 
i;^ 
 
 TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIA S. 
 
 371 
 
 of dry wood near 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 S?*" 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- 
 n'.gos Yutas, who hold their great camp near the Timpanigos 
 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 Timpanigos 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 of 
 these tribes numbers about ten thousand souls. They subsist 
 chiefly by the chase ; but cultivate a little maize.' 
 
 y 
 
 .*> 
 
 W 
 
 
 Wi' 
 
 }) 
 
 thi^ 
 
372 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 " The Nabajos maintain perpetual peace with the Timpani- 
 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 Mill 
 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 
 they 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 thedesqent of a war-party 
 upon their villages, killing every one who has not time to 
 escape, driving off all their flocks, and committing every other 
 kind of depredation. Yet so contemptible is the cowardice ot 
 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 breath driving a concealed dagger to your heart ; and 
 pray God for the peace of your soul, while they kick you, be* 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIA 8. 
 
 373 
 
 '1 ' 
 
 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 taught 
 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 different 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 suspending 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 have now in my possession one of 
 these blankets which I purchased of the Nabajos soon afler I 
 entered the Taos Mountains, and which, during two years* 
 encampment in the wilderness, did me most valuable service. 
 
 33 
 
 vMi 
 
 I I 
 
374 
 
 SCENES IN TUB PACIFIC. 
 
 Throughout very many nights of incessant mountain rains it 
 was my only shelter ; and never, in a single instance, was 
 any pari of my clothing wet which was covered by it. 
 
 " They make two species of blankets, both equally efficient 
 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 narrow border of indigo blue. 
 This is their comm(^ 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 salviee)^ 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 esteemed by 
 them, thdt they will not part with it on any consideration. 
 Besides being costly and gay, they look upon them as na- 
 tional heirloomSj 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 
 

 TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIA S. 
 
 375 
 
 his return from an unsuccessful expedition across the St. 
 John's river, in puiisuit of his faithless wife, who had left him 
 and fled over the border with her paramour. He was quite 
 sad dui'.ng the early part of the journey, and was constantly 
 mutteritig something of which I frequently distinguished the 
 expression, * Kah-che, kai-yah, mah-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 before 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 1 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 language as the Yutas, and 
 
 f\l 
 
 i» 
 
376 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 are a branch of that tribe, but considered by the latter as 
 mere dogs, the refuse of the lowest order of humanity ; and 
 they certainly are ; for living in a country where vegetation 
 is so scarce, that nothing but the diminutive hare can exist ; 
 whe? t the water is of the poorest character, 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 one of brutal sensuality, and death a 
 supposed annihilation. They do not even manifest the mu- 
 tual affection of parents and children, so universally observed 
 in the brute. There are instances to the contrary, but these 
 are very rare. 
 
 " 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 mush. Upon this they subsist tolerably 
 well while the gathering season continues; but being too 
 stupid and improvident to make provision for the remainder 
 of the year, they are often in the most wretched condition of 
 want. Sometimes they succeed in ensnaring a hare, the flesh 
 of which they eat, and the skin of which they cut into 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 they 
 thrust their heads. The bark of pine trees growing on some 
 of the trap mountains, is also a general article of food ; so 
 are roots ! Ants, grasshoppers, and lizards, are classed 
 among their choicest dainties. There are no relentings in 
 favor of these little unfortunates ; for no sooner are they 
 grasped by the hand, than the teeth consign them to the tomb. 
 
:! 
 
 TRAVELS IN THE C A L I F R N I A S. 
 
 377 
 
 " It seems impossible that human beings can exist as these 
 miserably destitute Indians do, without 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 diminutive ; in personal 
 appearance disgusting in the extreme ; their long untrimmed 
 hair, instead of hanging in flowing masses over the shoulders, 
 like that of other American Indians, is thickly matted with 
 dirt, stands out on the head in hard knots, alive with vermin ; 
 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 traffic. 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 $cO to $100, which is by no means an extravagant 
 price, if we take into consideration the herculean task of 
 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 » 
 
 !'. I 
 
 m 
 
 m\ 
 
 M 
 
378 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIVIC. 
 
 forts and 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 dre in grief for the loss of their native deserts. In 
 one instance, I saw one of these 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 sabina). 
 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 ciiaracter. 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 perjonal observations," says Doctor Lyman, "made 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIA S. 
 
 379 
 
 during the three months I was occupied in traversing 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, which 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 ti* 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 and 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 desirous as 
 ourselves for the liberation 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 those dreadful wastes. As it was, however, we 
 travelled many successive days along the Colorado, over sandy 
 deserts, subsisting on a daily allowance of a few mouthsful of 
 thin mush, and a little nauseous and bitter water wherewith 
 to wet our mouths once in twenty-four or forty-eight hours. 
 No druggist ever compounded a draught more disgusting than 
 the green, slimy or brackish waters which we were compelled 
 to drink. Finally our little stock of provisions was consumed 
 to the last grain ; and starvation was staring us in the face ; 
 but relief was not deni Axis; the sight of the wooded moun- 
 tains of Upper California inspired us with new strength and 
 
 i 
 
 i 
 
 ii 
 
 
 Kl.l 
 
380 
 
 SCElfES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 courage, and soon after we fell in with a river of pure waters 
 coming down from them ; more delicious than the streams of 
 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 v/e suffered bitterly for our imprudence. 
 
 "We wei«e 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 Mmericanus, The Black Bear, is an 
 inhabitant of many parts of California, and is too well known 
 to most readers to require a description. In its habits and 
 appearance it differs little from its brethren of the north. 
 
 Ursus Arctos v. Americanus Barren Ground Bear. — 
 This is probably a variety of the first mentioned species, 
 from which it diff*ers in its lighter color, being a dusky 
 brown. It resembles in appearance and habits, particu- 
 larly in the nature of its food, which consists to a great 
 degree of fish, the brown bear of Norway. Much confusion 
 has been produced by confounding this with the next which 
 we shall mention, and which is now well recognized as a dis- 
 tinct species. 
 
 Ursus ferox, The Grisly Bear. — This is the largest, most 
 formidable, and most remarkable wild animal of the country. 
 Numerous and almost incredible are the stories related of its 
 ferocity and strength. Specimens are to be met with meas- 
 uring four feet in height, and weighing from 500 to 1000 
 pounds. Unlike the black bear, this species never climbs 
 trees. His habits are solitary, and though an ugly customer 
 to meet, he seldom becomes the aggressor. Although flesh is 
 his favorite food, yet when that is not attainable he will eat 
 vermin, berries and roots, in digging for which, he frequently 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIA S. 
 
 381 
 
 overturns fallen timber which a yoke of oxen could scarcely 
 move. It is seldom that the Indians, with their imperfect 
 weapons, venture to attack this formidable animal ; and when- 
 ever one is killed by them, the occasion becomes a matter of 
 great rejoicing, and the fortunate victor is ever after held in 
 great estimation by his comrades. A steak cut from the 
 haunch of the grisly bear, and roasted on a stick by a camp 
 fire, is by no means despicable fare, and the skin forms a most 
 comfortable couch for the hunter. 
 
 Ursus mariiimus, Polar Bear.— This great inhabitant 
 of the frozen regions is not properly a Californian animal, 
 though there is no doubt that he sometimes makes his appear- 
 ance on the extreme northern coast, being floated southward 
 on his own peculiar and original conveyance, a cake of ice. 
 
 Procyon lotor. Raccoon. — This well known animal is found 
 in many parts of California. 
 
 Meles Sdradoirttf American Badger. — ^This species in- 
 habits the northern part of California as well as the plains 
 of Missouri and those near the Rocky Mountains north 
 to the Peace river. It burrows in the sand, and is well calcu- 
 lated for its mode of life, being very strong in the fore feet. 
 It is entirely different in aspect and size from the European 
 species. 
 
 Gulo luscusj The Glutton or Wolverine. — This peculiar 
 animal, which partakes of the nature of the bear, the fox 
 and the weasel, is well known to the beaver trappers, by 
 the constant annoyance to which it subjects them in devouring 
 their baits and destroying their traps. It is a savage, sullen 
 creature, and though from its size not formidable to man, it 
 preys upon small animals. Stories have been often repeated 
 of the manner in which the wolverine entraps the deer — by 
 climbing to a branch of a tree, and letting down moss, upon 
 which the unsuspecting victim stopping to feed, is immediately 
 mounted by the glutton, which, fixing his claws and teeth in its 
 back, maintains his hold till the lacerated and terrified animal 
 falls and offers a delicious meal to its destroyer. 
 
 'I 
 
 I, 
 
 Q : 
 
3S2 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 Mustela mtlgaris, Common Weasel, and M. erminea^ 
 Ermine, are both found in various parts of the Californias. 
 M. vison, The Mink, M. martes, The Martin, Mephitis ^^meri- 
 canUi I'he Skunk, are also inhabitants of this country in com- 
 mon with nearly the whole American Continent. 
 
 In many parts wolves are very numerous. Several species 
 are met with, of which the Lupus Americamis, Common Wolf, 
 is perhaps the most numerous. The others are L. grisetiSf 
 Grey Wolf, L. nubilis, Dusky Wolf, and L. ater, Black Wolf, 
 with their varieties. The Canis latrans, Prairie Wolf, is also 
 found here. 
 
 The natives have a very miserable, dirty species of cur, 
 which appears to be about half domesticated, resembles its 
 parent-stock the wolf, and is quite useless, except to devour 
 provisions and fight flies. 
 
 The Canis {vulpes)fulvns, Red Fox, and theCanis cinereo- 
 argentatus, Grey Fox, are common. These are the only 
 ascertained species which are met with, and it is probably a 
 -variety of the latter which is described by Douglas as being 
 plentiful on the Multnomak, and which he absurdly states is 
 in the habit of climbing trees. 
 
 There are probably more than one species of the cat tribe 
 remaining undescribed by naturalists, in the countries of the 
 Columbia and Sacramento. This opinion is expressed by 
 Douglas. The ascertained species are the following : Felis 
 concoloTf the Cougar or Puma, often called " lion" by the in- 
 habitants, a well known and very savage and formidable ani- 
 mal. It is confined mostly to the deep forests, and thickly 
 wooded sides of the mountains, and preys on deer and other 
 animals. Felis canadensis^ Northern Lynx ; Felis Jhsciata, 
 Banded Lynx, or Tiger Cat ; Felis rufa. Red Lynx, comprise 
 all the described varieties found in the Californias. The latter 
 is a timid animal, and may easily be captured with the aid of a 
 dog, and a club or almost any c^ .or weapon. 
 
 In the Sacramento and San Joaquim rivers, as well as on 
 
h 
 
 TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIAS. 
 
 383 
 
 many parts of the coast, the Plioca vUellinaf Common Hair 
 Seal, is abundant, and follows the track of the salmon. 
 
 Castor Fiber, The Beaver, and Fiber zibethictts, The Musk 
 Rat, are common in some parts of the country ; and the former 
 is numerous at the .nouths of the Sacramento and San Joaquim 
 rivers. The beaver is well known to naturalists, for the re- 
 markable skill and industry which it exhibits in the construc- 
 tion of its habitation, and the general sagacity and intelli- 
 gence of its character. For this reason, as well as on account 
 of the value of its skin as an article of commerce, and the 
 employment which its capture affords to many enterprising 
 and bold men, some account of its haunts, and of the means 
 used in obtaining it for purposes of trade, may not be uninte- 
 resting. Near and about the mouth of the Sacramento, as 
 before observed, lies a wide extent of low land overflowed by 
 the tide, and including some hundreds of small islands, cov- 
 ered with an enormous growth of rushes. There is probably 
 no spot of equal extent on the whole continent of America, 
 ■which contains so many of these much sought for animals. 
 For the last fifteen years the Hudson's Bay Company have 
 annually sent hither a company of from fifty to one hundred 
 trappers, who have each year taken from this spot alone from 
 five to ten thousand of these valuable skins. It is said by 
 hunters well acquainted with the whole Rocky Mountain 
 region, that they have never seen anywhere else such large 
 and fat beavers. On account of the scarcity of the timber of 
 which their huts are generally constructed, the beavers, like 
 true philosophers, have here accommodated themselves to 
 circumstances, and build their habitations of rushes, curiously 
 and skilfully interwoven. Notwithstanding the immense con- 
 scription drawn from their families by the hunters, their num- 
 bers as yet do not sensibly diminish. The very large size of 
 the skins obtained from this place, causes their value to be 
 greatly enhanced. The probable worth of each skin after it 
 is prepared by the hunters for exportation, is about three dol- 
 
 1" 
 
 
 % 
 
3S4 
 
 / 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 lars ; and reckoning; the average number at eight thousand, 
 we may arrive at an approximation to the great importance 
 of this single locality to the Hudson's Bay Company. The 
 quality of the fur, however, is hardly so fine as that which is 
 taken in a more northerly region. 
 
 Centts alcesy The Moose, is found in all the woody and 
 mountainous regions on the Columbia, and is abundant farther 
 southward, near the coast. This noble animal, the largest, 
 heaviest, and stateliest, of the deers, is peculiarly worthy of 
 mention. In size scarcely inferior to the horse, with his huge 
 palmatcd horns stretching three feet on each side of his head, 
 his long legs and racking gait giving a singular and gro- 
 tesque air to all his movements, the moose is perhaps the 
 most remarkable inhabitant of the country. Over level 
 ground, and when unimpeded by bushes, or by snow, his 
 speed is superior to that of the swiftest horse, and the crack- 
 ing of his joints and' hoofs can be heard almost as far as his 
 form can be seen. In fact it is only when a deep snow covers 
 the ground that the capture^f the moose can be well effected. 
 When this is the case, the expert hunter, with his snow-shoes 
 and his dogs, becomes more than a match for the moose, 
 with all his desperate efforts to escape. A day is generally 
 selected after a deep fall of snow has been followed by a 
 slight rain, which forms a crust on the surface. The poor 
 moose, wliose great size and weight are here of the utmost 
 disadvantage to him, is hindered in his flight by breaking 
 through the crust, which cuts and bruises his legs, and sink- 
 ing into the snow, soon becomes exhausted ; while the light- 
 ness of the dogs, and the snow-shoes of the pursuer, bear 
 them forward in safety, and soon the crack of the unerring 
 rifle tells that the noble game has met his fate. The tongue 
 of the moose is considered a great delicacy by the hunters, and 
 his skin and horns are also of great value. This animal, 
 when full grown, is from twelve to fourteen hands high, and 
 weighs from five to nine hundred pounds. Its color is a 
 dark greyish brown, fading into white or light fawn color 
 
hi 
 
 TRAVELS IN THE C A LI r O R N I A S. 
 
 385 
 
 ■\P, 
 
 on the belly. The head is large, the eyes peculiarly promi- 
 nent and bright, and the horns, which are thrown back on 
 the shoulders when the animal is running, will weigh from 
 twenty to forty pounds. 
 
 The moose must not be confounded with another species 
 which, though it is totally distinct, is yet often called by the 
 hunters ' grey moose.' This is the Elk proper ; also known 
 as the stag, red deer, wapiti, &c., the Cervtts Canadensis of 
 naturalists. The elk is an inhabitant of the plains, particu- 
 larly in the valleys of the San Joaquim and other rivers, 
 where immense herds, sometimes of many thousands, often 
 congregate. The importance of the elk to the Indians as an 
 article of food, leads them to adopt many ingenious devices 
 for his destruction. One of these is interesting. The Indian 
 has prepared an elk skin, with the head and horns in their 
 natural condition. After surveying a herd of his intended 
 victims, who are quietly feeding on the plain, he gets stealthily 
 to their windward side, and aftor crawling, sometimes on his 
 hands and knees, to escape their keen observation, as near as 
 he thinks possible, and if practicable, screening himself 
 behind a skirt of bushes, he puts on the prepared skin, and 
 emerges from his hiding-place, with his bow and arrows 
 under his arm. As soon as he is sufficiently near for his pur- 
 pose, and sometimes the unsuspicious animals will allow him 
 to approach almost into the centre of the herd, he fits his 
 arrows to his bow, and fires away right and left, as fast as 
 the shafts can be discharged, and before the victims have 
 recovered from their astonishment the plain is strewed with 
 the wounded and dying. 
 
 Another method of taking this animal is by means of 
 snares, made of a tough kind of grass, which are set on their 
 places of resort. The elk is considerably less in size than his 
 gigantic relative the moose, and his figure and general appear- 
 ance are quite different, being much lighter and more slender, 
 and resembling more nearly the common deer. The legs, like 
 those of the whole family, are long and slender, the tail short, 
 
 33 
 
 ii^f.,-' 
 
 |[ 
 
 
386 
 
 SCENES IN THK PACIFIC. 
 
 the horns long and much branched, the color a decided grey, 
 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, Longrtailed or Jumping Deer, the chcvreuil 
 of the hunters. This is grey on the back, and pure white on 
 the belly, and is remarkable for having a tail from twelve to 
 eighteen inches in length. 
 
 Antil&pe furdfer^, 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 ehyness 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 
 peculiar 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 pounds. 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 by 
 Padres Piccolo and Salvatierra under the Californian name of 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALirORNIAS. 
 
 387 
 
 Taye. The horns of this species are manufactured into spoons 
 and various other useful articles. 
 
 Bos Jlmericanus, 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 maritia, The Sea Otter, and LtUra 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 
 
 1 I 'l 
 
 Ml 
 I If 
 
 if 
 
 * 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 arc of a rich silvery grey. The sea otter 
 is from live to six feet in length, and weighs from thirty to forty pounds, 
 its body being of very slender proportions. The hinder legs are very shoil, 
 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 skia 
 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 length 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 frequently rises to tb<> 
 surface, and utters a hoarse snapping barkjike that of an angry dog. It 
 feeds on fish, and brings forth its young in holes dug in the sand. The 
 skins are worth from $50 to $100 each. The shores of California would 
 furnish from 20,000 to 30,000 annually. 
 
 ■?! 
 
 :fi 
 
 ■4i 
 
 ■SBP 
 
388 
 
 8CBNES IN TUB PACIFIC. 
 
 * 
 
 kinds of mice, ure found in great numbers in many places, 
 and their depredations are sometimes very disagreeable. 
 Pseudostoma hursarium (?) The Pouched Rat, and the ^rc- 
 tomys Beecheyif Small Marmot, are curious 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 Arctomys are numerous, and 
 some of them probably undescribed. Of ascertained species 
 may be mentioned A. Indovicianus, the well-known and very 
 pretty Prairie marmot, aometimes called Gopher, which how- 
 ever is not found far to the west, and Jl. monaxy the wood- 
 chuck. Of squirrels, there may be observed Sciurus cine- 
 retiSf the gray, S. niger, the black, S. macrourevSf the 
 great-tailed, besides P/eroTn^j alpiniis{?) the flying squirrel, 
 and a species of TamiaSf striped squirrel or dormouse. Of 
 hares there are several fine species ; one weighing from eight 
 to twelve pounds, probably Lepus gladalis ; another is L. 
 VirginianttSjthe Prairie Hare, and also L. Princeps (?) 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 op'y 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 e^reat vul- 
 ture is met with along the whole Pacific coast from Lower 
 California to the most northern boundaries 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 
 
TRAVELS IN THB CALIFORNIAS. 
 
 389 
 
 
 
 the woody districts of California, on the tops of the highest 
 trees, in the most inaccessible parts of the mountain valleys% 
 It is very wary and difficult 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 measures, 
 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 dead 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 bird of passage, being only found 
 there in the autumn and winter. 
 
 Cathartes atratus, 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. 
 
 Aquila Chrysaetos, 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 
 33* 
 
 
 r 1 
 
 ' I'!. 
 
 ■I 
 
 % 
 
 mm. t 
 
390 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIVIC. 
 
 on hares, grouse and other game, and seldom, if ever, catches 
 fish. 
 
 AquUa leitcocephala^ The Bald Eagle. — ^This well known 
 bird, the " American Eagle" by pre-eminence, seems hardly 
 worthy of his place as the 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 confe&<iion 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, after 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, often 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 are about streams which contain its 
 favorite food, where it may often be seen percl^ed 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 at 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 
 
Jl 
 
 TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIA 8. 
 
 391 
 
 seven in extent. The wings and claws are extremely vigor- 
 ous and powerful. 
 
 »^quila Haliaeta^ The Osprey or Fish Hawk, inhabits the 
 coast, and many of the interior waters of this country. This 
 bold and active fisher has been so well described by natural- 
 ists, as to make any extended notice here superfluous, though 
 his admirable traits of character, his perseverance, patience, 
 and skill in his occupation as an angler, forbid us to entirely 
 omit speaking of him. Almost every one who has visited the 
 Atlantic coast, from Maine to Georgia, is acquainted with this 
 bird, and has observed his well contested quarrels with the 
 bald eagle. 
 
 Falco peregrimis, The Black Hawk or Peregrine Falcon, is 
 found in some parts, particularly the northern, where he is 
 probably only a summer visitor. This hawk, as well as many 
 other species, is called " little eagle" by the Indians. 
 
 Falco IslandicuSj The Jer-Falcon, is an elegant and bold 
 bird, probably the most beautiful of the tribe. He inhabits 
 the northern coast, and is properly confined to the frozen re- 
 gions, though individuals are by no means rare in Upper Cali- 
 fornia. The color of this bird is nearly white, with small 
 brown spots on the back and rump. Some specimens are met 
 with whose color is purely and entirely white. It preys on 
 plover, geese and ducks, which it strikes while on the wing 
 with great vigor. It is an exceedingly strong winged and 
 powerful bird, and measures about thirty inches in length, by 
 four feet six inches in extent. 
 
 Several other of the Falcons of lesser note are found here ; 
 among these may be mentioned the Falco sparvenus, Sparrow 
 Hawk, well known all over North America, the Falco cO' 
 lumbarius, Pigeon Hawk, and the 1 eautiful Jiccipiter plum' 
 hanus, Gos Hawk, identical with the European species, so 
 celebrated for its use in the noble sport of falconry. 
 
 Of the Owls there are several species. The Strix Virgt- 
 niana, Great Horned Owl, often alarms the benighted traveller 
 with its discordant hootings. It is somewhat different from its 
 
 w 
 
 
 M 
 
 IJ 
 
392 
 
 SCENES IN TKE PACIFIC. 
 
 brethren of the same species in the States ; the color being a 
 deeper and brighter brown. The Strix nyctaeuy Gr jat Snow 
 Ow], is well known as an inhabitant of almost all the 
 northern parts of America. It preys on rats, birds and hares, 
 and 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 mnicularia^ 
 which seems to reverse the habits of its family, by living in the 
 burrows 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. 
 
 Lanitis borealisy The Northern Shrike j several species of 
 Tijranntis and Tyranntday Fly-catchers ; Merida migratoriaf 
 The Robin ; Orpheus fdivox, The Cat-bird ; Orpheus ; ufus. 
 The Brown Thrush ; several SylvicoloB ; Mauda^ The Lark, 
 one or two species ; Emberiza nivalis^ The Snow Bunting j 
 Icterus phceniceuSf The Redwing, are found in various parts of 
 the Galifornias as well as in the United States. 
 
 Loxia leucopteray The Cross-bill, is found all over the 
 country in the pine forests, and displays great dexterity in 
 picking out with its curiously constructed bill the seeds of the 
 pine cones, which are its principal food. 
 
 Corvus coraxy 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 picdy The Magpie, much resembles in general ap- 
 pearance the European species, from which it differs in size, 
 being considerably larger, and its colors are rather deeper 
 and more brilliant. It is a bold and saucy bird, living upon 
 various kinds of reptiles and even small birds, is fond of car- 
 rion of all sorts, and has often the impudence to visit the 
 camp of the hunter and carry off his meat. 
 
 Garrtilm cristatusy The Common Blue Jay, and another 
 smaller speciei, probably G. Steller% are quite common. The 
 
TRAVELS IK THE CALIFORNIA 6. 
 
 393 
 
 latter sometimes congregate in flocks of considerable number, 
 and are tame and familiar, coming freely into the villages in 
 search of food. 
 
 Colaptes MexicanuSf a very pretty Woodpecker, is found 
 in Upper California, and all along the Pacific coast, and is, 
 with the exception of an occasional individual of the golden- 
 winged species, Picus auratus, 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 
 beautiful Humming Bird is quite numerous. As far as the 
 author's notice has extended, the species are but two, the 
 Trochilus colubrisj Common Humming Bird, well known to 
 every one in the United States, and a still more elegant spe- 
 cies, T. rtifus, which seems to inhabit almost the whole 
 country, from Nootka Sound to the Rio del Norte in Mexico. 
 This delicate and splendid little creature is somewhat less in 
 size 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 
 Barn Swallow, H. lunifronsj the Cliff Swallow, and the 
 //. riparia. Bank Swallow or Sand Martin. 
 
 Caprimulgvs 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 and 
 water-course in search of his scaly prey, and seems to be a 
 component feature in the scenery of every rapid and waterfall. 
 
 There is probably no country in the world which produces 
 so many varieties of the Grouse, or in so great numbers. 
 The heart of a Yankee sportsman would almost burst with 
 delight at the succe^ of a day's shooting in some parts of 
 the interior of California. Tetrao urophas-ianusy The Great 
 Cock of the Plaiiis, second only in size and beauty to the 
 
 t 
 
 1: 
 
 I 
 
394 
 
 8c::ne8 in the pacific. 
 
 celebrated cock of the woods of the north of Europe, is very 
 plentiful in North California, as well as in the regions watered 
 by the Columbia river. This noble bird generally makes his 
 residence in the barren plain, among low bushes and brush- 
 wood, under which it runs and lurks j and is flushed with some 
 difficulty, generally taking wing near enough to the shooter to 
 afford him 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. oh- 
 scuruSf Dusky Grouse, a very handsome bird, though much 
 less in size than the preceding, and which, together with the 
 T. rupestris, Rock Grouse, inhabits the mountainous regions 
 of the North. T. umbellus,T\ie Huffed Grouse, or Pheasant 
 of the Southern States, and the T. leuctirusy White-tailed 
 Grouse, are common in different places. I have never met 
 with either the T. phasianellus, Pintail Grouse, or the T. 
 Frankliniii 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 Charadrivs, Plover, the JVumeri- 
 nus, Curlew, the Totanus, Tatler, the Limosa, Godwit, the 
 Scolopax, Snipe, the Phalarope, the Lams, 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 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORMAS. 
 
 395 
 
 from the far north in the spring, generally as early as April, 
 and return in October or November. 
 
 A smaller species of swan freqaents 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. Bemckii. 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 Jinser albifronSf 
 Laughing Goose, Ji. Canadensis^ The common Wild Goose, 
 ^. hyperboretiSy The Snow Goose, and Jl. bemacla, The Brant. 
 Pelicanus onocrotalus. The White Pelican, is sometimes 
 seen in various places on the coast. A flock 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 peculiar habits of the 
 pelican have often been described, and nothing new can be 
 added as having come under the special observation of the 
 author. Large numbers frequent the harbors, and resort much 
 to the little island of Alcatrasses, which is covered with their 
 exuviae. 
 
 Off 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 th&t they will quarrel for pos- 
 session of the prize which costs its unfortunate captor so 
 dear. There are two species, Diomedea exulans and fuli- 
 
 !^' 
 
 V I 
 
396 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 ginos€L Specimens are sometimes seen of most enormous 
 size, measurin;; 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 be 
 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- 
 fore 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, to 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 be 
 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 well- 
 adorned brow of John J. Audubon. 
 
 Fish. — There are perhaps no waters in the world so produc- 
 tive of fish 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 species. 
 
TRAVELS IN THB CALirO.RRIAS. 
 
 397 
 
 y 
 
 The Californian Gulf produces also great numbers of edible 
 shell-fish. The oyster, the pearl shell, an account of the 
 fishery for which has been heretofore given j the muscle, 
 several species of haliotis, all afford either food or articles of 
 trade and ornament to the inhabitants. In Upper California 
 fish are generally little sought after, 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)y 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 fish 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, 
 firequently 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 
 can vouch for the fact that this size is not exaggerated, hav- 
 ing often seen specimens nearly or quite as large. Some of 
 the streams also abound with very fine salmon trout, and with 
 a small trout pearly resembling the one which affords so much 
 sport to the anglers of the United States. 
 
 Accipenser transmontanus, The Sturgeon, sometimes attains 
 great 3ize in the large rivers, being from eight to ten feet in 
 length, and weighing nearly 500 pounds. In general, how- 
 ever, this fish is of much smaller dimensions. It is principally 
 found not far from the mouths of the rivers. 
 34 
 
 r 
 
 J 
 
398 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 In the bay of Monterey is a species of Mackerel, Scom- 
 ber coliaSf in great plenty and easily taken. Here, as 
 well as in most other parts of the coast, also swim schools of 
 a small fish resembling, if not identical with, the Sardine of 
 Italy, familiar to epicures. These are sometimes seen in 
 such immense numbers that the surface of the water, for a 
 great distance around, resembles a living mass, being kept in 
 constant commotion by their fins. Porpoises are very nume- 
 rous in almost every bay on the whole coast, and in foul 
 weather may always be seen playing their pranks on the 
 waves ; while far in the offing appears the spouting of the 
 huge whale. 
 
 The halibut, pilchard^ skate, turbot, bonito, and many other 
 species, are found in various parts of the sea-coast. The 
 shell-fish are numerous and valuable, particularly in the Gulf. 
 Of these may be mentioned. Oysters, which are often of large 
 size and excellent flavor, muscles, several species of haliotis, 
 patella, cardium, and turbo, besides Mya margaritifera, the 
 Pearl Oyster, the product of which as an article of commerce 
 is well known. The pearls produced by these shell-fish are, 
 in this country, of very fine water, though rather irregular in 
 figure. The manner of taking this valuable article of trade 
 has been fully described on a former page. 
 
 Plants. — The Californias ofier a very interesting and but 
 partially explored field of research to the botanist. Almost 
 every variety of vegetation, from the luxuriant productions of 
 the tropics to the stinted and scanty growth of the frozen 
 regions, may be found in this country. The labors of Douglas 
 and others have made known to the world many of the most 
 valuable and remarkable species. Of these it is possible here 
 to mention only a few. Of the Pine and Oak there are seve- 
 ral noble and useful varieties in different parts of the country. 
 One of these, Pinus Douglasii, first described by Douglas, is 
 probably the grandest of the whole vegetable kingdom. It is 
 found on the mountains about the Bay of San Francisco, on 
 the highlands near the upper branches of the .Colorado river j 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIAS. 
 
 399 
 
 and in some other sections of Upper California, generally on 
 elevated localities. My readers must not think of Baron 
 Munchausen, when I offer to vouch for the fact that sp(;citncns 
 of this tree occur of the height of two hundred and forty feet, 
 the base of whose trunks have a circumference of nearly sixty 
 feet. The trunk is quite destitute of branches until above 
 more than half the altitude, when they grow outward and up- 
 ward in such a manner as to give the top the form of an 
 inverted pyramid. From the ends of the branches hang the 
 cones or seed-vessels, from twelve to fifteen inches in length, 
 and egg-shaped. The seeds are as large as a good-sized 
 bean, and furnish a common article of food to the Indians, 
 who collect large quantities of them in the autumn, and pound 
 them into a kind of cake, which is baked on heated stones. 
 The wood is very fine-grained, and contains a great quantity 
 of resin. 
 
 The Pinvs SaMnii, P. Lambertianaj P. nohiliSf and P. 
 resinosa, are also fine species, though less in size than their 
 gigantic relative. The former is, however, a large tree, being 
 often found one hundred and ten feet high, and from ten to 
 twelve in diameter. Among the elevated plains 6f Upper 
 California it grows quite plentifully, as also on the low hills, 
 near the coast, where it attains a larger size. The natives 
 frequently "build their fires against these trees to save the 
 trouble of collecting fuel. By this means, also, a sweet 
 gum is made to exude from the trunk, which serves them for 
 sugar. 
 
 The White Oak grows on the low and level parts of the 
 country. It is not generally a large tree, being from forty to 
 fifty feet high, and from two to three feet in diameter at the 
 base. The top is extremely thick and leafy, forming an 
 almost impenetrable mass of boughs. It is in some places 
 very abundant. 
 
 The Quercus navalis occupies the prairies, river banks, and 
 lower hills, and is four or five feet in diameter, with branches 
 of corresponding dimensions extending horizontally from the 
 
 * . 
 
 ♦! 
 
 J. 
 
400 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 trunk. The Live Oak, Q. virensj grows only on the high- 
 lands. It is from two to five feet in thickness, and from sixty 
 to seventy in height. The Maple, the Ash, the Beech, the 
 Chestnut, in several varieties, compose large portions of the 
 forests. 
 
 It is impossible to give a full description of the flower- 
 ing shrubs and plants of Upper California, so great is 
 their variety and beauty. We have only space to notice a 
 few of the most conspicuous. A species of Raspberry, Ribes 
 speciosunif is one of the most elegant flowering shrubs of the 
 country. It is exceedingly abundant in some localities, and, 
 with its long crimson stamens and its deep green leaves, 
 presents an appearance truly lovely. The flowers bloom 
 early in spring. The fruit I have not seen. In many places 
 are found several species of Mimultis, one of which is from 
 three to four feet in height, and is a very showy plant. This 
 country also has numerous species of PfUox and Heuchera, 
 and innumerable quantities of Ejnlohiumy Enothera or Prim- 
 rose, Penistemorij Papaver or Poppy, Delphinium, and Salvia. 
 A species of lily also grows here, the roots of which are 
 eaten by the natives. The Scilla esculenta grows along the 
 ■whole coast of Upper California. This is called by the na- 
 tives " Quamash" and the root forms a very common article 
 of food. To prepare this for eating, a hole is made in the 
 ground, and a number of stones placed in it, on which a Are 
 is kindled, and kept burning until they are made hot, when 
 the fire is extinguished, and the roots wrapped in straw, 
 leaves and moss, are placed upon them. They are well 
 roasted in a few hours ; and are then taken off and hung up 
 to dry. This root is also sometimes pounded and made into 
 cakes, which are preserved for future use. The taste is sweet, 
 and rather agreeable ; but if eaten too freely, they are apt to 
 produce diarrhoea. This plant is most abundant on the banks 
 of rivers and on lowlands by the margins of forests ; in which 
 localities are also found several species oiPyrohf Ca'prifolium, 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIA S. 
 
 401 
 
 and Lupinus, which sometimes cover an immense extent of 
 land. The Jlrhutus is also abundant in similar situations. 
 The large species, Jl. procera, is a fine shrub, frequently at- 
 taining a growth which entitles it to be called a tree. The 
 J2. uva vrsi is found in almost every part of the colder sec- 
 tions of the country, and its berries are frequently eaten by 
 the natives, and even by travellers. A very useful plant to 
 the natives is the Ilelonias tenax, the fibres of which are 
 stronger than any hemp. Cords made of this are used by the 
 Indians for the purpose of snaring deer and other animals ; 
 and one the thickness of the little finger is so strong as not 
 to be broken by the largest elk. 
 
 The Gooseberry grows in Upper California, and bears plen- 
 tifully. The sand-hills and moors are covered with a great 
 variety of Syngenesious plants, and on the more fertile and 
 humid soil grows a gaudy-flowered Currant-bush and a pretty 
 species of Honeysuckle. Perhaps the most remarkable shrub 
 here is the Yedra, a poisonous plant, which, however, affects 
 some particular constitutions only. By contact with the skin, 
 it produces tumors and violent inflammation. It is a slender 
 shrub, preferring cool and shady places, and bearing a trefoil 
 crenated leaf. Two roots — the plants of which I have not 
 seen — are used by the natives for soap : these are called 
 Amole and Samate. On the rocky coast south of Monterey 
 are immense collections of sea-weed — Fucus pyrifomis — 
 which are said to have gathered there in such abundance, as 
 to have saved several vessels from splitting on the rocks, when 
 driven on them by the tempest. 
 
 Minerals. — The mineral wealth of the Californias has 
 not been examined by persons capable of forming a correct 
 idea of its nature and extent. The imperfect observations of 
 travellers, embellished by the eager love of the precious 
 metals, are not to be relied on. Some facts, however, exist, 
 which, having been well and often observed, may be men- 
 tioned. 
 
 34* 
 
402 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACiriC. 
 
 A very fine article of bituminous coal has been discovered 
 in the neighborhood of San Francisco ; and indications of its 
 existence in other parts of the country, are numerous and 
 well marked. 
 
 A quicksilver mine is said to exist near the mountains east 
 of Monterey, which, if we may believe report, is the richest 
 in the world. 
 
 A silver mine has been discovered a short distance from Mon- 
 terey. This affords a very rich ore, and easily wrought. The 
 author saw spoons and other articles made of the products of 
 this mine. There is a gold mine situate near the Pueblo de 
 los Angeles, which is very rich. The ore was tested by my 
 friend Doctor Lyman, and was found to yield more than 
 ninety per cent. The inhabitants have observed very exten- 
 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 bv 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 w ould 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 
 
TRAVELS IN TIIK CALIFORNIA 8. 
 
 403 
 
 doubt, administered to his last want, and made his gravo-dresB 
 with willing 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, and 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, however, 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, heavin^ifi unsympathizing, cold, home- 
 less ! Love of Ocean ! ! Poetiy 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 wheir 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 
 
 i 
 
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 action which sifts the past 
 of its bitterest evils, and gives only the blossom and the fruit 
 to after-time. These the}' enjoy in the midnight watch, at the 
 dawn, in the storm, the calm, and in visions of sleep j but for 
 ever upon the deep, on the great expanse of the Sea ! Is it 
 wonderful, then, that they should love it ? that their atfecteons 
 become poetry 1 See them 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- 
 jacke*. ; 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 pulhng, they speak of the 
 ship as a lady, well decked, and of beautiful bearing, ghding 
 like a nymph through the gurpjling 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 '>owl down upon her 
 dead ahead, and the storm-sail displays over the fore-chains 
 its three-sided form, and the ship lays up to the raging ele- 
 ments, breasting every swoop of wavciiaid blast, she still is a 
 lady, coming forth from aer empire of dependent loveliness 
 to bow before an irresistible force, only to rise again, and 
 present the Fceptre of Hope to dismayed man. These Salts 
 believe in the poetry of the sea, and of the noble structures in 
 
T B A^V ELS 
 
 IN THE CALIFORNIAS. 
 
 405 
 
 ; be 
 her 
 iight 
 Ipest 
 her 
 ^ains 
 lele- 
 is a 
 Iness 
 land 
 Mts 
 is in 
 
 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 coo) whole- 
 some air. Every sail was out and fdled, as white as snow, 
 the wind on the larboard quarter, the crew lounging, and the 
 dolphins chasing, and the gulls screaming, and the spraj' 
 dashing at the bows. Home, and the mother of my buried 
 boy, if J. may speak of myself, the heart's guiding star on 
 those wastes of soul and of nature, wore 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 app-^ared 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 abual 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 <wo 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 araWe land, is uninhabited except by sea birds, turtles and 
 goats. 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 6f the island for the last eighty 
 ye^rs, and are now so very numerous, that they could be profita- 
 Liy 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- 
 
406 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 cumstance 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 had 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 th"; New- 
 Bedford Light, and never took in a rag until we had c ' ''•-■ 
 the rjquator ; 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 m- 'i that you 
 could stick your thumb airough between the planks ; and the 
 decks 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 w?" wfully 
 Ldre 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 S. 
 
 407 
 
 a 
 It 
 
 if- 
 
 er 
 to 
 
 I !' 
 
 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 i^ 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 was to try to hold our own. W^e accordingly beat 
 off and on, and lay to twelve days, when we found we must 
 up helm and let her ru.: The gale was a\ 1 ; and as we 
 advanced south, the raggedness of the sea was continually 
 more and more frightful ; the cold became intense j 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-call from the mermaids that Tom ever saw, 
 was that gale. The ship lurching her sparr. into the waves, 
 the sailors slipping, the rigging stiff, and the only sail set, 
 
408 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 covered with ice several inches thick j 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 70*^ 
 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 wiru' had been dying away since noon, and now barely 
 kept the . ! oving. The western portion of the sea was 
 
 all light anci ^ irious j 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 ; 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 Hoom, 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. Tlie dolphin, the bonitos, the flying fish, 
 the porpoise, the right whale, were all employing their 
 muscles in their own way among the sleeping waters ; 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 afTections, 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 fap 
 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 tli.it 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'lost my heart on just 
 such a night as this, when about twelve years old ! I went 
 35 
 
410 
 
 Scenes' in 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 ; 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 my 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 w^atch, 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 Kang over wooded jungles a thousand feet bo'ow. 
 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 altitude, as its resemblance to a conti- 
 
 ( V 
 
TRAVELS IN THB 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 pcross 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 climate 
 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- 
 
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 scat 
 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 Joaquira to the plains of the Mis- 
 souri is not only feasible hut 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 thaij 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 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIA S. 
 
 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 of 
 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 unconquered 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 had 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 graiitude. Forty-six Americans and Britons in 
 chains! — in the chains of Californian Spar.ards ! Will not 
 the day come when vengeance will be repaid ? 
 
 During the afternoon and the night following day we rode 
 sixty miles to the city of Tepic, and laid the case of these pris- 
 
 35 
 
 r.* 
 
r 
 
 414 
 
 SCENES IN THE PACIFIC. 
 
 oners before the American and British consuls, who rendered 
 them all the aid and protection which their 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 Govern- 
 ment HAS NEVER AVENGED THEIR WRONGS ! 
 
 After tarrying a week at Tcpic, we took leave of the gene- 
 rous spirits who had succored the unfortunate men that had 
 suiTercd 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 
 craters 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 them who forget their 
 vows of chastity, and raise large families of illegitimate chil- 
 dren. I understood there were some that did not practise this 
 mode of social life j but did not see them. From Guadalax- 
 ara we travelled to Queretero. The country between these 
 places is quite similar to that between Tepic and Gna Jalaxara. 
 It is however more elevated, studded with more mountains, 
 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 counti} along this part of our 
 
 n 
 
TRAVELS IN THE CALIFORNIA S. 
 
 415 
 
 (\ 
 
 (i 
 
 journey became more and more elevated and beautiful as we 
 advanced, till, on a brij^ht afternoon of June, we halted on the 
 heights to view the old home of Montezuma, and the country 
 far and wide in all directions around us. It was an entranc- 
 ing sight ! The green lields 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 causeway 
 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 lijdian 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 I 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 fine 
 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- 
 legs — and we left it in a day or two for Tampico, tw^o days' 
 sail up the coast. 
 
41G 
 
 SCENES in THE PACIFIC. 
 
 This latter town is beautifully situated six or seven miles 
 up the Rio de Pnnuco. Here wc remained thirteen days, 
 \»hen, with Arista's permission, wc 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 Fa- 
 Tiii.R OF Watf.iis to tlic holy and blooming plains of my Prai- 
 rie Home— to wife — and the graves of those I loved, among 
 the trees at Prairie liodgc ! 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 the 
 human soul, that it can look, back on the mingled scenes of 
 sufleiing and bliss with so much delight. The thorn that 
 ■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 because of the alimr 
 which it has furnished to the mind ; the knowledge it 1 
 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. 
 
 FINIS.