half gun-shot wide, and commanded by a fortress situated on its left
bank, on a high rock, named after St. Joachim. We could distinguish the
republican flag, the waving signal, that even this most northern colony
of Spain no longer acknowledges the authority of the mother country; we
also remarked a few cavalry and a crowd of people who were watching our
swiftly sailing vessel with the most eager attention. As we drew nearer,
a sentinel grasped with both hands a long speaking trumpet, and enquired
our nation and from whence we came. This sharp interrogatory, the sight
of the cannon pointed upon our track, and the military, few indeed, but
ready for battle, might have induced an opinion that the fortress had
power to refuse entrance even to a ship of war, had we not been
acquainted with the true state of affairs. St. Joachim, on his rocky
throne, is truly a very peaceable and well-disposed saint; no one of
his cannon is in condition to fire a single shot, and his troops are
cautious of venturing into actual conflict: he fights with words only. I
would not therefore refuse to his fortress the courtesy of a salute, but
was much astonished at not finding my guns returned. An ambassador from
shore soon solved the mystery, by coming to beg so much powder as would
serve to answer my civility with becoming respect.
As soon as we had dropped anchor, the whole of the military left the
fortress without a garrison, to mingle with the assemblage of curious
gazers on the shore, where the apparition of our ship seemed to excite
as much astonishment as in the South Sea Islands. I now sent Lieutenant
Pfeifer ashore, to notify our arrival in due form to the commandant, and
to request his assistance in furnishing our vessel with fresh
provisions. The commandant himself, Don Martinez Ignatio, lieutenant of
cavalry, had been summoned to the capital Monterey, to attend Congress,
and was absent; his deputy, the second lieutenant, Don Joseph Sanchez,
received my envoy with much cordiality, and referred in a very
flattering manner to my former visit to this port, in the ship Rurik.
Don Sanchez was at that time a brave subaltern; but had since, under
republican colours, risen in the service. He promised to lend us every
assistance in his power, and proved his friendly intentions by an
immediate present of fruits, vegetables, and fresh meats.
As our accounts of California are few and defective, a rapid glance at
the history and constitution of this unknown but beautiful country,
richly endowed by Nature with all that an industrious population could
require to furnish the comforts and enjoyments of life, but hitherto
sadly neglected under Spanish mis-government, will probably not be
unwelcome to the readers who have accompanied me thus far: I will
therefore, on its behalf, defer, for a short space, the account of our
residence here.
The narrow peninsula on the north-west coast of America, beginning at
St. Diego's Point, under thirty-two degrees of latitude, and ending with
the promontory of St. Lucas, under twenty-two degrees, was first
exclusively called California; but the Spaniards extended this
appellation to their more recent discoveries on this coast towards the
north; since which, the peninsula has been named Old, and the more
northern coast to the Bay of St. Francisco, in thirty-seven degrees
latitude, New California; from thence begins the so-called New Albion.
Mexico did not suffice to the ambition of its restless conqueror Cortez.
To extend still farther the dominion of Spain, he directed the building
of large vessels on the western coast of Mexico; and thus, in the year
1534, was California first seen by Spanish navigators, and in 1537
visited by Francisco de Ulloa. When information of the new discoveries
reached the Spanish government, they resolved, contrary to their
proceedings in the cases of Mexico and Peru, to gain peaceable
possession of the new country by converting the inhabitants to the
Christian religion, and declared that this pious object was all they had
in view.
Only a small military force was, in fact, dispatched with a body of
Jesuits, who established a settlement and began the trade of conversion.
Disinterested as this rather expensive expedition appeared, its secret
motive might probably be found in the fear that any other nation should
establish itself in the neighbourhood of Mexico and the Spanish
gold-mines.
The Jesuits came and made converts. These were followed by the
Dominicans, who still have settlements, called here missions, in Old
California; and subsequently by the Franciscans, who have established
themselves in the New. They all convert away at a great rate,--we shall
soon find how.
The first missions were seated on the coast of Old California, for the
convenience of communication by sea with Mexico, and because the country
was favourable to agriculture. The military who accompanied the monks,
selected for their residence a situation from whence they could overlook
several missions, and be always ready for their defence. These military
posts are here called Presidios.
As it was not possible to make the savage natives comprehend the
doctrines of Christianity, their inculcation was out of the question;
and all that these religionists thought necessary to be done with this
simple, timid race, scarcely superior to the animals by whom they were
surrounded, was to introduce the Catholic worship, or, more properly,
the dominion of the monks, by force of arms. The missions multiplied
rapidly. In New California, where we now were, the first of these, that
of St. Diego, was established in 1769; now there are twenty-one in this
country. Twenty-five thousand baptized Indians belong at present to
these missions, and a military force of five hundred dragoons is found
sufficient to keep them in obedience, to prevent their escape, or, if
they should elude the vigilance of their guards, to bring them from the
midst of their numerous tribes, improving the favourable opportunity of
making new converts by the power of the sword.
The fate of these so called Christian Indians is not preferable even to
that of negro slaves. Abandoned to the despotism of tyrannical monks,
Heaven itself offers no refuge from their sufferings; for their
spiritual masters stand as porters at the gate, and refuse entrance to
whom they please. These unfortunate beings pass their lives in prayer,
and in toiling for the monks, without possessing any property of their
own. Thrice a day they are driven to church, to hear a mass in the Latin
language; the rest of their time is employed in labouring in the fields
and gardens with coarse, clumsy implements, and in the evening they are
locked up in over-crowded barracks, which, unboarded, and without
windows or beds, rather resemble cows' stalls than habitations for men.
A coarse woollen shirt which they make themselves, and then receive as a
present from the missionaries, constitutes their only clothing. Such is
the happiness which the Catholic religion has brought to the
uncultivated Indian; and this is the Paradise which he must not presume
to undervalue by attempting a return to freedom in the society of his
unconverted countrymen, under penalty of imprisonment in fetters.
The large tract of arable land which these pious shepherds of souls have
appropriated to themselves, and which is cultivated by their flocks, is
for the most part sown with wheat and pulse. The harvest is laid up in
store; and what is not necessary for immediate consumption is shipped
for Mexico, and there either exchanged for articles required by the
missions, or sold for hard piastres to fill the coffers of the monks.
In this way were the missionaries, and the military who depended upon
them, living quietly enough in California, when the other Spanish
colonies threw off their allegiance to the mother country. The
insurrection having spread as far as Mexico, they were invited by the
new governments, under advantageous conditions, to make common cause
with them, but they remained true to their King; nor was their fidelity
shaken by the total neglect of the Spaniards, who for many years
appeared to have forgotten their very existence, and had not even
troubled themselves to make the ordinary remittances for the pay of the
military, or the support of the monks. Still their loyalty remained
unshaken; they implicitly obeyed even that command of the King which
closed their ports against all foreign vessels; and as the republicans
were considered as foreigners, and no ships arrived from Spain, the
missions, as well as the Presidios, soon began to suffer the greatest
scarcity of many necessaries which the country did not produce. The
soldiery, even to the commander himself, were in rags, without pay, and
deriving a mendicant subsistence from the monks. The want which pressed
most heavily on the latter was that of the implements of agriculture and
other labour; having, with true Spanish indolence, forborne any attempt
to manufacture them in the country. The very source of all their
acquisitions was thus threatened with extinction; yet still they adhered
to their King, with a fidelity truly honourable had it been more
disinterested:--but what could they expect from a change of government,
except the limitations of their hitherto unbounded power?
In the discontent of the soldiers, however, smouldered a spark,
dangerous to the power of the monks, which was suddenly blown into a
flame by a circumstance that occurred a few years before our arrival.
The only pleasure for which the baptized Indians had ever been indebted
to the monks was the possession of such baubles as our sailors use in
traffic with the South Sea islanders. These things of course could no
longer be obtained, and their loss was regarded by the new Christians as
a heavy misfortune. Their despair at length broke out into insurrection:
they burst their prisons, and attacked the dwellings of the monks, but
retired before the fire of musketry. The military, with very little loss
on their side, defeated great numbers of the natives, and brought them
again into their previous subjection.
A new light dawned on the minds of the dragoons. What would have become
of the monks without their valiant support? Elated by victory, and
disregarding all the protestations of the ghostly fathers, whose
feebleness and helplessness were now apparent, they declared themselves
the first class in the country, and independent of Spain, which for so
many years had abandoned them to their fate.
Similar causes produced similar effects in Old California, and each
country now forms a separate republic.
Spain might with ease have retained these fertile provinces under
allegiance. Had their fidelity received the smallest encouragement, it
would probably never have been shaken; and California would have proved
a most convenient support for the claims of the mother country on the
revolutionized colonies, especially on Mexico, formerly the fertile
source of Spanish wealth. The Philippines have not rebelled, and these
rich islands could have afforded all the assistance the missions
required. The neglect of California by Spain would almost seem to have
been appointed by Providence, that the prosperity of the new States
might suffer no interruption.
One immediate result of the independence of this colony is the opening
of her ports to all nations, and the consequent impetus given to
commerce. The North American States have been the first to make use of
the privilege.
The exports of California now consist of corn, ox-hides, tallow, and the
costly skins of the sea-otter. Some speculators have attempted a trade
with China, but hitherto without success. A richly laden ship was
entrusted to a North American captain for this purpose, who disposed of
the cargo in China; but found it more convenient to retain both the
money and ship for his own use, than to return to the owners.
The government of New California was on our present visit administered
by Don Louis Arguello, the same young man with whom I became acquainted
on my voyage in the Rurik, when he was commandant of the Presidio of St.
Francisco. He resided at this time in Monterey, and employed himself in
devising systems of government which should bring the heterogeneous
ingredients of the new republic, dragoons, monks, and Indians, into
order and unity.
May the destiny of the latter be ameliorated by the change! No
Constitution has yet been established here; and Arguello's power, or
perhaps ability, was inadequate to introducing that which he had
proposed. Many changes are still necessary in the Californias before
they can become the happy and flourishing countries for which Nature
intended them.
On the morning after our arrival, I visited old Sanchez in the Presidio.
He received me with unfeigned cordiality, and related to me many things
which had taken place since my visit in the Rurik eight years ago. Don
Louis, he said, had become a great man, and he himself a lieutenant,
which here imports a considerable rank. Nevertheless, he disapproved of
all the proceedings, and felt assured that no good could accrue from
them. He would rather, he said, be a petty Spanish subject, than a
republican officer of state.
The Presidio was in the same state in which I found it eight years
before; and, except the republican flag, no trace of the important
changes which had taken place was perceptible. Every thing was going on
in the old, easy, careless way.
Sanchez at once promised to provide the ship daily with fresh meat, but
advised me to send a boat to the mission of Santa Clara for a supply of
vegetables, which were there to be had in superfluity. The Presidio had,
with a negligence which would be inconceivable in any other country,
omitted to cultivate even sufficient for their own consumption.
As I had not visited the mission of Santa Clara during my first visit to
California, I now determined to proceed thither on the following day, in
the long-boat. Sanchez provided a good pilot, and sent a courier
overland to announce my arrival at the mission.
The bay of St. Francisco is full ninety miles in circuit: it is divided
by islands into two pretty equally sized basins, a northern and a
southern. On the banks of the southern, which takes an easterly
direction, lie the three missions, St. Francisco, Santa Clara, and St.
José. Of the northern half of the bay I will speak hereafter.
On the morning of the 28th of September, the Barcasse was ready, and
equipped with every thing necessary for our little voyage. Favoured both
by wind and tide, we sailed eastward past many charming islands and
promontories, to the mission of Santa Clara, which lay at a distance of
five-and-twenty miles, in a straight line from the ship. The country
presented on all sides a picture of beauty and fertility: the shores are
of a moderate elevation, and covered with a brilliant verdure; the
hills, towards the interior, swell gently into an amphitheatre, and the
background is formed by high thick woods. Groves of oaks are scattered
upon the slopes, separated by lovely meadows, and forming more graceful
and picturesque groups than I have ever seen as the produce of art. With
very little trouble, the most luxuriant harvests might be reaped from
this soil; but a happy and industrious population has not yet been
established here, to profit from the prodigality of Nature. The
death-like stillness of these beautiful fields is broken only by the
wild animals which inhabit them; and as far as the eye can reach, it
perceives no trace of human existence; not even a canoe is to be seen
upon the surrounding waters, which are navigable for large vessels, and
boast many excellent harbours;--the large white pelican with the bag
under his bill, is the only gainer by the abundance of fish they
produce. During the centuries of Spanish supremacy in California, even
the exertion of procuring a net has been deemed too great. How
abundantly and happily might thousands of families subsist here! and how
advantageously might the emigrants to Brazil have preferred this spot
for colonization! There, they have to struggle with many difficulties,
are often oppressed by the government, and always suffer under a
scorching sun. Here, they would have found the climate of the South of
Germany, and a luxuriant soil, that would have yielded an ample
recompense for the slightest pains bestowed upon it.
After a few hours' sail, we came to a deep creek opening to the right,
and on its shores we perceived the mission of St. Francisco rising among
wooded hills. The tide by this time had ebbed, the wind had died away,
and we proceeded slowly by the aid of oars: this induced us, after
rowing about fifteen miles, to land, at noon, on a pleasant little
island. We made a blazing fire; and as every sailor understands
something of cookery, a dinner was soon dressed, which eaten in the open
air in beautiful weather, under the shade of spreading oaks, appeared
excellent.
While the sailors were reposing, we examined the island. Its northern
shore was tolerably high, and rose almost perpendicularly from the sea.
Its soil, as that of all the country about the bay of St. Francisco,
consists, under the upper mould, of a variegated slate; probably the
foot of man had never before trodden it. But a short time since, no
boat was to be found in the neighbourhood, and now each mission
possesses only one large barge in which the reverend Fathers pass up and
down the rivers that discharge themselves into the northern half of the
bay, to seek among the Indians who are occasionally seen on their banks,
for proselytes to recruit the ranks of their laborious subjects. The
only canoes of the Indians are made of plaited reeds, in which they sit
up to their hips in water. That no one has yet attempted to build even
the simplest canoe in a country which produces a super-abundance of the
finest wood for the purpose, is a striking proof of the indolence of the
Spaniards, and the stupidity of the Indians.
Our island was surrounded by wild ducks and other sea-fowl; the
white-headed eagle hovered too over the oaks, and seemed to be pursuing
a very small species of hare, and a pretty partridge, of which there are
great numbers.
We enjoyed for a few hours the recreation of the land, so welcome to
sailors, and then continued our voyage with a favourable wind.
The sun was near the horizon when we approached the eastern shore of
the bay. Here the water is no longer of sufficient depth to admit large
vessels, and the face of the country assumes a different character. The
mountains retire to a greater distance; extensive plains slope from the
hills towards the water's edge, where they become mere swamps,
intersected however by a variety of natural channels, by means of which,
boats may run some distance inland. It was already growing dark as we
entered these channels, where, even during daylight, the assistance of a
good pilot is requisite to thread the intricacies of a navigation among
thick reeds that grow to such a height in the marshes on both sides, as
to exclude from view every object but the sky. Our sailors plied their
oars vigorously; the channels became gradually narrower, and the banks
drier; at length we heard human voices behind the reeds, and at midnight
we reached the landing-place. A large fire had been lighted. Two
dragoons and a few half-naked Indians, sent from the mission, were
waiting our arrival, with saddle-horses intended for our use. As the
mission was at the distance of a good hour's ride, the night was dark,
and I was not inclined to trouble the repose of the monks, I determined
to await the dawn of morning. Our small tents were presently pitched,
several fires lighted, and the cooks set to work.
After our tedious row, (for, owing to the zigzag course we had been
compelled to steer, we had passed over a distance of at least forty
miles,) the camping out, in a beautiful night, was quite delightful.
Although it was now the latter end of September, the air was as mild as
with us during the warmest summer nights. Round our little encampment we
heard an incessant barking, as of young dogs, proceeding from a species
of wolf, which abounds throughout California; it is not larger than the
fox; but is so daring and dexterous, that it makes no scruple of
entering human habitations in the night, and rarely fails to appropriate
whatever happens to suit it. This we ourselves experienced; for our
provision of meat had not been sufficiently secured, and we found
nothing in the morning but a gnawed and empty bag.
The rising sun announced the approach of a fine day, and gave us a view
of the extensive plains which formed the surrounding country. The
missionaries cultivated wheat upon them, which had been already
harvested, and large flocks of cattle, horses, and sheep, were seen
pasturing among the stubble. The mission of Santa Clara possesses
fourteen thousand head of cattle, one thousand horses, and ten thousand
sheep. The greater part of these animals being left to roam undisturbed
about the woods, they multiply with amazing rapidity.
I now ordered the horses to be saddled, and we set off for the mission,
the buildings and woods of which bounded the view over these prodigious
corn-fields. Our way lay through the stubble, amongst flocks of wild
geese, ducks, and snipes, so tame that we might have killed great
numbers with our sticks. These are all birds of passage, spending the
winter here, and the summer farther north. We fired a few shots among
the geese, and brought down about a dozen: they differ but little in
size from our domestic goose, and some of them are quite white. A ride
of an hour and a half brought us to Santa Clara, where the monks
received us in the most friendly manner, and exerted themselves most
hospitably, to make our visit agreeable.
The mission, which was founded in the year 1777, is situated beside a
stream of the most pure and delicious water, in a large and extremely
fertile plain. The buildings of Santa Clara, overshadowed by thick
groves of oaks, and surrounded by gardens which, though carelessly
cultivated, produce an abundance of vegetables, the finest grapes, and
fruits of all kinds, are in the same style as at all the other missions.
They consist of a large stone church, a spacious dwelling-house for the
monks, a large magazine for the preservation of corn, and the
Rancherios, or barracks, for the Indians, of which mention has already
been made. These are divided into long rows of houses, or rather stalls,
where each family is allowed a space scarcely large enough to enable
them to lie down to repose. We were struck by the appearance of a large
quadrangular building, which having no windows on the outside, and only
one carefully secured door, resembled a prison for state-criminals. It
proved to be the residence appropriated by the monks, the severe
guardians of chastity, to the young unmarried Indian women, whom they
keep under their particular superintendence, making their time useful to
the community by spinning, weaving, and similar occupations. These
dungeons are opened two or three times a-day, but only to allow the
prisoners to pass to and from the church. I have occasionally seen the
poor girls rushing out eagerly to breathe the fresh air, and driven
immediately into the church like a flock of sheep, by an old ragged
Spaniard armed with a stick. After mass, they are in the same manner
hurried back to their prisons. Yet, notwithstanding all the care of the
ghostly fathers, the feet of some of these uninviting fair ones were
cumbered with bars of iron, the penal consequence, as I was informed, of
detected transgression. Only on their marriage are these cloistered
virgins allowed to issue from their confinement and associate with their
own people in the barracks.
Three times a-day a bell summons the Indians to their meals, which are
prepared in large kettles, and served out in portions to each family.
They are seldom allowed meat; their ordinary, and not very wholesome
food, consisting of wheaten flour, maize, peas and beans, mixed
together, and boiled to a thick soup.