The only other vessel in the port was a Russian government bark
from Sitka, 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 ahead. 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 were through
breakfast, those who had obtained liberty began to clean
themselves, as it is called, to go ashore. Buckets of fresh water,
cakes of soap, large coarse towels, and we went to work scrubbing
one another, on the forecastle. Having gone through this, the next
thing was to step 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
trousers. Then came the rigging up. The usual outfit of pumps,
white stockings, loose white duck trousers, 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 streamed 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 Mexicans 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, fríjoles,
tortillas, and some middling wine-- from the mayor-domo, 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 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
Mexicans, 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 robbed and beaten, and
lodged in the calabozo, until the next day, when the captain
brought 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. Our 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 of
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. Again and again 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 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.
``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. Something
was the matter. I was not sure whether he was cowed, or, being
good-natured, he did not care to beat the boy any more. At all
events he faltered. He had always been master, and had nothing to
gain and everything to lose; while the other fought for honor and
freedom, and under a sense of wrong. It was soon over. Nat gave
in,-- apparently not much hurt,-- and never afterwards tried to
act the bully over the boy. 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, 1836. Set sail from Monterey, with a
number of Mexicans 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 a good representation
of a decayed gentleman. 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 considerable
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 retinue of Indians, and set up for the grandee of that part
of the country. His son was sent to Mexico, where he received an
education, and went into the first society of the capital.
Misfortune, extravagance, and the want of any manner of getting
interest on money, soon ate 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,-- dissipated 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
standing 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 good Castilian, with a
pleasant and refined voice and accent, and had, throughout, the
bearing of a man of 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
reals-- 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, pretentious fellow of a Yankee
trader, who had made money in San Diego, and was eating out the
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 well; spoke good Spanish; had
been over the greater part of 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 the triumphal
reception 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 byword 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 was 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 grand political overturns, the filling up of which I was left
to 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 gray 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?'' &c., &c. 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 because of her being a contrabandista. 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 that 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 southeaster. 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 Doña Anita de la Guerra de Noriego y
Corillo, youngest daughter of Don Antonio Noriego, 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 blew off, and our ship lay dressed in her colors all
day. At sundown 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 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 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, gayly figured, white stockings and thin morocco
slippers upon his very small feet. His slight and graceful figure
was well adapted to 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 razon,''
and was considered a high accomplishment, and a mark of
aristocracy. Here, too, Don Juan figured greatly, waltzing with
the sister of the bride (Doña Angustias, a handsome woman and a
general favorite) in a variety of beautiful 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. The great amusement of the evening-- owing
to its being the Carnival-- was the breaking of eggs filled with
cologne, or other essences, upon the heads of the company. 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 gray whiskers, and a
look of great importance, was standing before me, when I felt a
light hand on my shoulder, and, turning round, saw Doña Angustias
(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 manoeuvring was carried on between couples of the younger
people, and at every successful exploit a general laugh was
raised.
Another of their games I was for some time at a loss about. A
pretty young girl was dancing, named-- after what would appear to
us an almost sacrilegious custom of the country-- Espíritu 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 afterwards 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 turned upon one or the other.
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 Señor
Noriego's, and take a look into the booth. The musicians were
again 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 ship-shape-- were much admired,
and we were invited, from every quarter, to give them an American
dance; but after the ridiculous figure some of our countrymen cut
in dancing after the Mexicans, 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 southeaster season, he was afraid to remain on shore
long; and it was well he did not, for that night we slipped our
cables, as a crowner to our fun ashore, and stood off before a
southeaster, which lasted twelve hours, and returned to our
anchorage the next day.