CHAPTER XXVII

THE SUNDAY WASH-UP--ON SHORE--A SET-TO--A GRANDEE--"SAIL HO!"--A

FANDANGO

The only other vessel in port was the Russian government bark, from

Asitka, mounting eight guns, (four of which we found to be Quakers,)

and having on board the ex-governor, who was going in her to Mazatlan,

and thence overland to Vera Cruz. He offered to take letters, and

deliver them to the American consul at Vera Cruz, whence they could be

easily forwarded to the United States. We accordingly made up a packet

of letters, almost every one writing, and dating them "January 1st,

1836." The governor was true to his promise, and they all reached

Boston before the middle of March; the shortest communication ever yet

made across the country.

The brig Pilgrim had been lying in Monterey through the latter part of

November, according to orders, waiting for us. Day after day, Captain

Faucon went up to the hill to look out for us, and at last, gave us up,

thinking we must have gone down in the gale which we experienced off

Point Conception, and which had blown with great fury over the whole

coast, driving ashore several vessels in the snuggest ports. An

English brig, which had put into San Francisco, lost both her anchors;

the Rosa was driven upon a mud bank in San Diego; and the Pilgrim, with

great difficulty, rode out the gale in Monterey, with three anchors

a-head. She sailed early in December for San Diego and intermedios.

As we were to be here over Sunday, and Monterey was the best place to

go ashore on the whole coast, and we had had no liberty-day for nearly

three months, every one was for going ashore. On Sunday morning, as

soon as the decks were washed, and we had got breakfast, those who had

obtained liberty began to clean themselves, as it is called, to go

ashore. A bucket of fresh water apiece, a cake of soap, a large coarse

towel, and we went to work scrubbing one another, on the forecastle.

Having gone through this, the next thing was to get into the head,--one

on each side--with a bucket apiece, and duck one another, by drawing up

water and heaving over each other, while we were stripped to a pair of

trowsers. Then came the rigging-up. The usual outfit of pumps, white

stockings, loose white duck trowsers, blue jackets, clean checked

shirts, black kerchiefs, hats well varnished, with a fathom of black

ribbon over the left eye, a silk handkerchief flying from the outside

jacket pocket, and four or five dollars tied up in the back of the

neckerchief, and we were "all right." One of the quarter-boats pulled

us ashore, and we steamed up to the town. I tried to find the church,

in order to see the worship, but was told that there was no service,

except a mass early in the morning; so we went about the town, visiting

the Americans and English, and the natives whom we had known when we

were here before. Toward noon we procured horses, and rode out to the

Carmel mission, which is about a league from the town, where we got

something in the way of a dinner--beef, eggs, frijoles, tortillas, and

some middling wine--from the mayordomo, who, of course, refused to make

any charge, as it was the Lord's gift, yet received our present, as a

gratuity, with a low bow, a touch of the hat, and "Dios se lo pague!"

After this repast, we had a fine run, scouring the whole country on our

fleet horses, and came into town soon after sundown. Here we found our

companions who had refused to go to ride with us, thinking that a

sailor has no more business with a horse than a fish has with a

balloon. They were moored, stem and stern, in a grog-shop, making a

great noise, with a crowd of Indians and hungry half-breeds about them,

and with a fair prospect of being stripped and dirked, or left to pass

the night in the calabozo. With a great deal of trouble, we managed to

get them down to the boats, though not without many angry looks and

interferences from the Spaniards, who had marked them out for their

prey. The Diana's crew,--a set of worthless outcasts, who had been

picked up at the islands from the refuse of whale-ships,--were all as

drunk as beasts, and had a set-to, on the beach, with their captain,

who was in no better state than themselves. They swore they would not

go aboard, and went back to the town, were stripped and beaten, and

lodged in the calabozo, until the next day, when the captain bought

them out. Our forecastle, as usual after a liberty-day, was a scene of

tumult all night long, from the drunken ones. They had just got to

sleep toward morning, when they were turned up with the rest, and kept

at work all day in the water, carrying hides, their heads aching so

that they could hardly stand. This is sailor's pleasure.

Nothing worthy of remark happened while we were here, except a little

boxing-match on board our own ship, which gave us something to talk

about. A broad-backed, big-headed Cape Cod boy, about sixteen years

old, had been playing the bully, for the whole voyage, over a slender,

delicate-looking boy, from one of the Boston schools, and over whom he

had much the advantage, in strength, age, and experience in the ship's

duty, for this was the first time the Boston boy had been on salt

water. The latter, however, had "picked up his crumbs," was learning

his duty, and getting strength and confidence daily; and began to

assert his rights against his oppressor. Still, the other was his

master, and, by his superior strength, always tackled with him and

threw him down. One afternoon, before we were turned-to, these boys

got into a violent squabble in the between-decks, when George (the

Boston boy) said he would fight Nat, if he could have fair play. The

chief mate heard the noise, dove down the hatchway, hauled them both up

on deck, and told them to shake hands and have no more trouble for the

voyage, or else they should fight till one gave in for beaten. Finding

neither willing to make an offer for reconciliation, he called all

hands up, (for the captain was ashore, and he could do as he chose

aboard,) ranged the crew in the waist, marked a line on the deck,

brought the two boys up to it, making them "toe the mark;" then made

the bight of a rope fast to a belaying pin, and stretched it across the

deck, bringing it just above their waists. "No striking below the

rope!" And there they stood, one on each side of it, face to face, and

went at it like two game-cocks. The Cape Cod boy, Nat, put in his

double-fisters, starting the blood, and bringing the black and blue

spots all over the face and arms of the other, whom we expected to see

give in every moment: but the more he was hurt, the better he fought.

Time after time he was knocked nearly down, but up he came again and

faced the mark, as bold as a lion, again to take the heavy blows, which

sounded so as to make one's heart turn with pity for him. At length he

came up to the mark for the last time, his shirt torn from his body,

his face covered with blood and bruises, and his eyes flashing fire,

and swore he would stand there until one or the other was killed, and

set-to like a young fury. "Hurrah in the bow!" said the men, cheering

him on. "Well crowed!" "Never say die, while there's a shot in the

locker!" Nat tried to close with him, knowing his advantage, but the

mate stopped that, saying there should be fair play, and no fingering.

Nat then came up to the mark, but looked white about the mouth, and his

blows were not given with half the spirit of his first. He was

evidently cowed. He had always been his master, and had nothing to

gain, and everything to lose; while the other fought for honor and

freedom, under a sense of wrong. It would not do. It was soon over.

Nat gave in; not so much beaten, as cowed and mortified; and never

afterwards tried to act the bully on board. We took George forward,

washed him in the deck-tub, complimented his pluck, and from this time

he became somebody on board, having fought himself into notice. Mr.

Brown's plan had a good effect, for there was no more quarrelling among

the boys for the rest of the voyage.

Wednesday, January 6th. Set sail from Monterey, with a number of

Spaniards as passengers, and shaped our course for Santa Barbara. The

Diana went out of the bay in company with us, but parted from us off

Point Pinos, being bound to the Sandwich Islands. We had a smacking

breeze for several hours, and went along at a great rate, until night,

when it died away, as usual, and the land-breeze set in, which brought

us upon a taut bowline. Among our passengers was a young man who was

the best representation of a decayed gentleman I had ever seen. He

reminded me much of some of the characters in Gil Blas. He was of the

aristocracy of the country, his family being of pure Spanish blood, and

once of great importance in Mexico. His father had been governor of the

province, and having amassed a large property, settled at San Diego,

where he built a large house with a court-yard in front, kept a great

retinue of Indians, and set up for the grandee of that part of the

country. His son was sent to Mexico, where he received the best

education, and went into the first society of the capital. Misfortune,

extravagance, and the want of funds, or any manner of getting interest

on money, soon eat the estate up, and Don Juan Bandini returned from

Mexico accomplished, poor, and proud, and without any office or

occupation, to lead the life of most young men of the better

families--dissolute and extravagant when the means are at hand;

ambitious at heart, and impotent in act; often pinched for bread;

keeping up an appearance of style, when their poverty is known to each

half-naked Indian boy in the street, and they stand in dread of every

small trader and shopkeeper in the place. He had a slight and elegant

figure, moved gracefully, danced and waltzed beautifully, spoke the

best of Castilian, with a pleasant and refined voice and accent, and

had, throughout, the bearing of a man of high birth and figure. Yet

here he was, with his passage given him, (as I afterwards learned,) for

he had not the means of paying for it, and living upon the charity of

our agent. He was polite to every one, spoke to the sailors, and gave

four reáls--I dare say the last he had in his pocket--to the steward,

who waited upon him. I could not but feel a pity for him, especially

when I saw him by the side of his fellow-passenger and townsman, a fat,

coarse, vulgar, pretending fellow of a Yankee trader, who had made

money in San Diego, and was eating out the very vitals of the Bandinis,

fattening upon their extravagance, grinding them in their poverty;

having mortgages on their lands, forestalling their cattle, and already

making an inroad upon their jewels, which were their last hope.

Don Juan had with him a retainer, who was as much like many of the

characters in Gil Blas as his master. He called himself a private

secretary, though there was no writing for him to do, and he lived in

the steerage with the carpenter and sailmaker. He was certainly a

character; could read and write extremely well; spoke good Spanish; had

been all over Spanish America, and lived in every possible situation,

and served in every conceivable capacity, though generally in that of

confidential servant to some man of figure. I cultivated this man's

acquaintance, and during the five weeks that he was with us,--for he

remained on board until we arrived at San Diego,--I gained a greater

knowledge of the state of political parties in Mexico, and the habits

and affairs of the different classes of society, than I could have

learned from almost any one else. He took great pains in correcting my

Spanish, and supplying me with colloquial phrases, and common terms and

exclamations in speaking. He lent me a file of late newspapers from

the city of Mexico, which were full of triumphal receptions of Santa

Ana, who had just returned from Tampico after a victory, and with the

preparations for his expedition against the Texans. "Viva Santa Ana!"

was the by-word everywhere, and it had even reached California, though

there were still many here, among whom was Don Juan Bandini, who were

opposed to his government, and intriguing to bring in Bustamente.

Santa Ana, they said, was for breaking down the missions; or, as they

termed it--"Santa Ana no quiere religion." Yet I had no doubt that the

office of administrador of San Diego would reconcile Don Juan to any

dynasty, and any state of the church. In these papers, too, I found

scraps of American and English news; but which were so unconnected, and

I was so ignorant of everything preceding them for eighteen months

past, that they only awakened a curiosity which they could not satisfy.

One article spoke of Taney as Justicia Mayor de los Estados Unidos,

(what had become of Marshall? was he dead, or banished?) and another

made known, by news received from Vera Cruz, that "El Vizconde

Melbourne" had returned to the office of "primer ministro," in place of

Sir Roberto Peel. (Sir Robert Peel had been minister, then? and where

were Earl Grey and the Duke of Wellington?) Here were the outlines of

a grand parliamentary overturn, the filling up of which I could imagine

at my leisure.

The second morning after leaving Monterey, we were off Point

Conception. It was a bright, sunny day, and the wind, though strong,

was fair; and everything was in striking contrast with our experience

in the same place two months before, when we were drifting off from a

northwester under a fore and main spencer. "Sail ho!" cried a man who

was rigging out a top-gallant studding-sail boom.--"Where

away?"--"Weather beam, sir!" and in a few minutes a full-rigged brig

was seen standing out from under Point Conception. The studding-sail

halyards were let go, and the yards boom-ended, the after yards braced

aback, and we waited her coming down. She rounded to, backed her main

topsail, and showed her decks full of men, four guns on a side, hammock

nettings, and everything man-of-war fashion, except that there was no

boatswain's whistle, and no uniforms on the quarter-deck. A short,

square-built man, in a rough grey jacket, with a speaking-trumpet in

hand, stood in the weather hammock nettings. "Ship

ahoy!"--"Hallo!"--"What ship is that, pray?"--"Alert."--"Where are you

from, pray?" etc., etc. She proved to be the brig Convoy, from the

Sandwich Islands, engaged in otter hunting, among the islands which lie

along the coast. Her armament was from her being an illegal trader.

The otter are very numerous among these islands, and being of great

value, the government require a heavy sum for a license to hunt them,

and lay a high duty upon every one shot or carried out of the country.

This vessel had no license, and paid no duty, besides being engaged in

smuggling goods on board other vessels trading on the coast, and

belonging to the same owners in Oahu. Our captain told him to look out

for the Mexicans, but he said they had not an armed vessel of his size

in the whole Pacific. This was without doubt the same vessel that

showed herself off Santa Barbara a few months before. These vessels

frequently remain on the coast for years, without making port, except

at the islands for wood and water, and an occasional visit to Oahu for

a new outfit.

Sunday, January 10th. Arrived at Santa Barbara, and on the following

Wednesday, slipped our cable and went to sea, on account of a

south-easter. Returned to our anchorage the next day. We were the

only vessel in the port. The Pilgrim had passed through the Canal and

hove-to off the town, nearly six weeks before, on her passage down from

Monterey, and was now at the leeward. She heard here of our safe

arrival at San Francisco.

Great preparations were making on shore for the marriage of our agent,

who was to marry Donna Anneta De G---- De N---- y C----, youngest

daughter of Don Antonio N----, the grandee of the place, and the head

of the first family in California. Our steward was ashore three days,

making pastry and cake, and some of the best of our stores were sent

off with him. On the day appointed for the wedding, we took the

captain ashore in the gig, and had orders to come for him at night,

with leave to go up to the house and see the fandango. Returning on

board, we found preparations making for a salute. Our guns were loaded

and run out, men appointed to each, cartridges served out, matches

lighted, and all the flags ready to be run up. I took my place at the

starboard after gun, and we all waited for the signal from on shore.

At ten o'clock the bride went up with her sister to the confessional,

dressed in deep black. Nearly an hour intervened, when the great doors

of the mission church opened, the bells rang out a loud, discordant

peal, the private signal for us was run up by the captain ashore, the

bride, dressed in complete white, came out of the church with the

bridegroom, followed by a long procession. Just as she stepped from

the church door, a small white cloud issued from the bows of our ship,

which was full in sight, the loud report echoed among the surrounding

hills and over the bay, and instantly the ship was dressed in flags and

pennants from stem to stern. Twenty-three guns followed in regular

succession, with an interval of fifteen seconds between each when the

cloud cleared away, and the ship lay dressed in her colors, all day.

At sun-down, another salute of the same number of guns was fired, and

all the flags run down. This we thought was pretty well--a gun every

fifteen seconds--for a merchantman with only four guns and a dozen or

twenty men.

After supper, the gig's crew were called, and we rowed ashore, dressed

in our uniform, beached the boat, and went up to the fandango. The

bride's father's house was the principal one in the place, with a large

court in front, upon which a tent was built, capable of containing

several hundred people. As we drew near, we heard the accustomed sound

of violins and guitars, and saw a great motion of the people within.

Going in, we found nearly all the people of the town--men, women, and

children--collected and crowded together, leaving barely room for the

dancers; for on these occasions no invitations are given, but every one

is expected to come, though there is always a private entertainment

within the house for particular friends. The old women sat down in

rows, clapping their hands to the music, and applauding the young ones.

The music was lively, and among the tunes, we recognized several of our

popular airs, which we, without doubt, have taken from the Spanish. In

the dancing, I was much disappointed. The women stood upright, with

their hands down by their sides, their eyes fixed upon the ground

before them, and slided about without any perceptible means of motion;

for their feet were invisible, the hem of their dresses forming a

perfect circle about them, reaching to the ground. They looked as

grave as though they were going through some religious ceremony, their

faces as little excited as their limbs; and on the whole, instead of

the spirited, fascinating Spanish dances which I had expected, I found

the Californian fandango, on the part of the women at least, a lifeless

affair. The men did better. They danced with grace and spirit, moving

in circles round their nearly stationary partners, and showing their

figures to great advantage.

A great deal was said about our friend Don Juan Bandini, and when he

did appear, which was toward the close of the evening, he certainly

gave us the most graceful dancing that I had ever seen. He was dressed

in white pantaloons neatly made, a short jacket of dark silk, gaily

figured, white stockings and thin morocco slippers upon his very small

feet. His slight and graceful figure was well calculated for dancing,

and he moved about with the grace and daintiness of a young fawn. An

occasional touch of the toe to the ground, seemed all that was

necessary to give him a long interval of motion in the air. At the

same time he was not fantastic or flourishing, but appeared to be

rather repressing a strong tendency to motion. He was loudly

applauded, and danced frequently toward the close of the evening.

After the supper, the waltzing began, which was confined to a very few

of the "gente de razón," and was considered a high accomplishment, and

a mark of aristocracy. Here, too, Don Juan figured greatly, waltzing

with the sister of the bride, (Donna Angustia, a handsome woman and a

general favorite,) in a variety of beautiful, but, to me, offensive

figures, which lasted as much as half an hour, no one else taking the

floor. They were repeatedly and loudly applauded, the old men and women

jumping out of their seats in admiration, and the young people waving

their hats and handkerchiefs. Indeed among people of the character of

these Mexicans, the waltz seemed to me to have found its right place.

The great amusement of the evening,--which I suppose was owing to its

being carnival--was the breaking of eggs filled with cologne, or other

essences, upon the heads of the company. One end of the egg is broken

and the inside taken out, then it is partly filled with cologne, and

the whole sealed up. The women bring a great number of these secretly

about them, and the amusement is to break one upon the head of a

gentleman when his back is turned. He is bound in gallantry to find

out the lady and return the compliment, though it must not be done if

the person sees you. A tall, stately Don, with immense grey whiskers,

and a look of great importance, was standing before me, when I felt a

light hand on my shoulder, and turning round, saw Donna Angustia, (whom

we all knew, as she had been up to Monterey, and down again, in the

Alert,) with her finger upon her lip, motioning me gently aside. I

stepped back a little, when she went up behind the Don, and with one

hand knocked off his huge sombrero, and at the same instant, with the

other, broke the egg upon his head, and springing behind me, was out of

sight in a moment. The Don turned slowly round, the cologne, running

down his face, and over his clothes, and a loud laugh breaking out from

every quarter. He looked round in vain, for some time, until the

direction of so many laughing eyes showed him the fair offender. She

was his niece, and a great favorite with him, so old Don Domingo had to

join in the laugh. A great many such tricks were played, and many a

war of sharp manoeuvering was carried on between couples of the younger

people, and at every successful exploit a general laugh was raised.

Another singular custom I was for some time at a loss about. A pretty

young girl was dancing, named, after what would appear to us the

sacrilegious custom of the country--Espiritu Santo, when a young man

went behind her and placed his hat directly upon her head, letting it

fall down over her eyes, and sprang back among the crowd. She danced

for some time with the hat on, when she threw it off, which called

forth a general shout; and the young man was obliged to go out upon the

floor and pick it up. Some of the ladies, upon whose heads hats had

been placed, threw them off at once, and a few kept them on throughout

the dance, and took them off at the end, and held them out in their

hands, when the owner stepped out, bowed, and took it from them. I

soon began to suspect the meaning of the thing, and was afterward told

that it was a compliment, and an offer to become the lady's gallant for

the rest of the evening, and to wait upon her home. If the hat was

thrown off, the offer was refused, and the gentleman was obliged to

pick up his hat amid a general laugh. Much amusement was caused

sometimes by gentlemen putting hats on the ladies' heads, without

permitting them to see whom it was done by. This obliged them to throw

them off, or keep them on at a venture, and when they came to discover

the owner, the laugh was often turned upon them. The captain sent for

us about ten o'clock, and we went aboard in high spirits, having

enjoyed the new scene much, and were of great importance among the

crew, from having so much to tell, and from the prospect of going every

night until it was over; for these fandangos generally last three days.

The next day, two of us were sent up to the town, and took care to come

back by way of Capitan Noriego's and take a look into the booth. The

musicians were still there, upon their platform, scraping and twanging

away, and a few people, apparently of the lower classes, were dancing.

The dancing is kept up, at intervals, throughout the day, but the

crowd, the spirit, and the élite, come in at night. The next night,

which was the last, we went ashore in the same manner, until we got

almost tired of the monotonous twang of the instruments, the drawling

sounds which the women kept up, as an accompaniment, and the slapping

of the hands in time with the music, in place of castanets. We found

ourselves as great objects of attention as any persons or anything at

the place. Our sailor dresses--and we took great pains to have them

neat and shipshape--were much admired, and we were invited, from every

quarter, to give them an American sailor's dance; but after the

ridiculous figure some of our countrymen cut, in dancing after the

Spaniards, we thought it best to leave it to their imaginations. Our

agent, with a tight, black, swallow-tailed coat, just imported from

Boston, a high stiff cravat, looking as if he had been pinned and

skewered, with only his feet and hands left free, took the floor just

after Bandini; and we thought they had had enough of Yankee grace.

The last night they kept it up in great style, and were getting into a

high-go, when the captain called us off to go aboard, for, it being

south-easter season, he was afraid to remain on shore long; and it was

well he did not, for that very night, we slipped our cables, as a

crowner to our fun ashore, and stood off before a south-easter, which

lasted twelve hours, and returned to our anchorage the next day.

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