THE OLD TOWNS OF CALIFORNIA.
MONTEREY.
The town of Monterey is situated upon the large bay of that name, formed
by the curve of land between Point Año Nuevo on the north, and Point
Pinos on the south. Until the adoption of the present constitution for
California, Monterey was always the seat of government of the territory,
and the residence of her military governors and other officers. The town
presents a very neat and pretty appearance, with its houses of
white-plastered _adobes_ and its surrounding hills covered with lofty
pine trees. It retains its old Spanish peculiarities, and Yankee
innovations have as yet made but little progress there. The Spanish
_don_, clothed in his _serape_ and _calcineros_, still walks through the
streets with his lordly air, and the pretty _señorita_, her dark eyes
peering through the folds of her _reboso_, skips lightly along the
footpath. The ancient customs are still continued here, and the sound of
the guitar and the light shuffling of pretty feet are heard nightly in
the _casas_. I saw here a few weeks since a funeral celebrated in the
old style, which, although by no means new to me, exceedingly astonished
some Yankee friends who had but just arrived. A procession of some
hundred people, men, women, and children, were straggling along the
street, preceded by six little girls, dressed in white, bearing upon
their shoulders the coffin of an infant. Upon one side of this were two
musicians, with a guitar and violin, playing such tunes as are heard at
the country dances in the United States, while upon the other were two
tall fellows with muskets, which they were continually loading and
firing. By the sides of the procession was a troop of boys, all armed
with Chinese fire-crackers, which they exploded by the pack, keeping up
a most infernal racket. In this manner the procession marched to the
church, where the coffin was opened, and the little body strewn with
wild flowers. After some Catholic ceremony the body was committed to the
grave, when the whole posse adjourned to the residence of the parents,
where a grand fandango and feast were given, which lasted throughout the
whole night.
About six miles from Monterey lie the mission and valley of Carmel, one
of the prettiest spots in all Upper California, and one of the most
favourable for agricultural pursuits; and twenty-five miles distant is
the great valley of San Juan, ten miles in width, and thirty miles in
length. This valley possesses a climate peculiar to itself, and a soil
of exceeding richness. The winds from the ocean are mellowed before they
reach here, and fall with a delicious coolness upon this beautiful vale.
The agricultural products are principally corn, wheat, and potatoes,
which are taken to Monterey and sold at good prices.
The bay of Monterey abounds in fish of every variety, but particularly
mackerel, which can be caught in great quantities with a hook and line
directly in the harbour. The town contains about one thousand
inhabitants, and its climate is superior to that of any other locality
on the coast, although during the summer a dense fog usually rises for a
few hours in the morning. A fort has been built upon a hill overlooking
the town and harbour, and a military force is stationed there. There are
several American residents in Monterey at the present time, engaged in
mercantile pursuits; but very little building is in progress, and the
town bids fair to remain for a long time a representative of California
as she was before the indomitable Yankee introduced his “notions” into
her territory.
SANTA BARBARA.
South of Monterey is the town of Santa Barbara, a place celebrated for
its being the residence of the aristocracy of California, as well as for
its beautiful women. There is no harbour to the town, and vessels are
obliged to lie at anchor in an open roadstead, often at many miles
distant from the shore; and during the spring and fall, when the
southeast winds prevail, they are scarcely safe lying here; a high surf
is constantly running on the beach, and it is only by the greatest skill
in “beaching” a boat that one can escape a severe ducking. The position
of the town of Santa Barbara is one of the most beautiful in California.
On the right, toward the water, is a lofty hill, rising nearly a
thousand feet, from the summit of which the little town resembles one of
those mud villages, which school-boys mould in clam-shells. Directly
back of the town is a range of almost impassable hills, which run in a
diagonal direction, and join the Coast Range at San Luis Obispo. In
front is the broad bay, embraced between two points, and having a smooth
beach of nearly thirty miles in extent. A mile back from the town, at
the head of a gentle slope, is the mission of Santa Barbara, with its
venerable white walls and cross-mounted spires.
The town itself is situated upon a plain of some ten miles in extent,
and contains about one hundred and fifty houses, built of _adobes_, all
one story in height. Most of these houses contain but two rooms, a large
one called the _sala_, and a small chamber. These houses contain no
stoves or fire-places, all the cooking operations of a family being
performed in the _cocina_, which is a building separate from the main
dwelling.
The people of Santa Barbara are kind and hospitable. I was stationed
there three months, and scarcely a day elapsed that our mess-table did
not exhibit some choice specimen of California cookery, made up by the
hands of some fair señorita, as a present to “_los officiales
Americanos_.” But here, as all over California, among the native
population, laziness is the great characteristic of the people. A fine
horse to ride, plenty of beef and _frijoles_ to eat, and _cigaros_ to
smoke, and they are satisfied. The whole day with them is spent on
horseback, in lazily riding from one tavern to another, or galloping
furiously, at the risk of their necks, along the streets. The residents
of Santa Barbara are principally _rancheros_, who visit their _ranchos_
once or twice a year, to attend to the marking and killing of their
cattle, and spend the remainder of the year in their town residence,
enjoying life to their utmost capacity. Each _ranchero_ usually keeps
around the town a sufficient number of cattle for food, and whenever any
beef is wanted, a bullock is slaughtered in a manner that would cause
the eyes of the English societies for the suppression of cruelties to
animals to stare aghast. The animal is first to be caught, which is
effected in this manner. A _vaquero_ or herdsman, mounted upon a fleet
horse, and provided with a strong rope, with a noose at one end, and
called a _lasso_, rides furiously into the herd of cattle, and selecting
the one he wishes swings his _lasso_ around his head, gives a loud yell,
at the same time throwing the _lasso_ and planting it over the horns and
head of the vanquished bullock. So expert are they in the use of the
_lasso_ that they seldom fail at the first trial in catching an animal
running at the distance of thirty or forty feet. The animal being
captured, he is dragged into town, and being conducted within a
_corral_, another lasso is thrown around his legs, which are thus
tripped from under him, when a sharp knife is plunged into his throat.
The favourite amusement of the Californians is dancing, and Santa
Barbara is more celebrated for its _fandangos_ than any other town on
the coast. These occur nearly every evening in the week, it being always
easy to get up an impromptu ball in five minutes, by calling in a guitar
or harp player. At these balls there is no exclusiveness, the high and
low, rich and poor, all meet on perfect equality, and dance away their
sorrows, if they have any, upon the same mud floor. No scented cards of
invitation are sent to the favoured few, but all who choose enter and
participate freely. At church and at fandangos Californians all find a
level. It appears as natural for Californians to dance as to breathe or
eat. Often have I seen little girls, scarce six years of age, flying
through a _cotillon_, or circling in the giddy waltz, or dancing with
great skill their favourite _jotah_ or _jarabe_. The girls are all
elegant waltzers, and will exhaust the strength of an ordinary American
gentleman, who is content with a few turns round the ball-room and then
a long promenade.
The town of Santa Barbara contains about five hundred inhabitants, among
whom are the Norrigas and Carillos, the two great families of
California. It is a beautiful place of residence, with a mild,
springlike climate, and around it are some of the pleasantest rides in
all California. About four miles distant is the little town of
_Montecito_ (little mountain), a collection of farm-houses, where large
quantities of vegetables are grown. Three miles beyond this, in the
heart of the mountains, is a remarkable hot sulphur spring, to which
invalids resort for the purpose of bathing, and six miles in the
opposite direction is an Indian village, containing some forty or fifty
wigwams, whose tenants are an industrious agricultural people, who raise
corn, wheat, and potatoes, and bring them into Santa Barbara for sale.
The mission of Santa Barbara is, at the present time, in a better
condition than any other mission in the country. About fifty of the
converted Indians still remain here and cultivate the soil. Around the
old mission building are several extensive orchards, in which figs,
apples, pears, and peaches are grown, and two or three vineyards,
producing a grape from which excellent wine is made. _The Padre
Presidente_, the presiding priest of California, resides here, the
office at present devolving upon Padre Jesus Maria Gonzales, one of the
kindest and most gentlemanly men I ever met with.
PUEBLO DE LOS ANGELOS.
One hundred and ten miles south of Santa Barbara is the _Pueblo de los
Angelos_ (City of the Angels), the garden spot of California. It is
situated at the end of an immense plain, which extends from San Pedro,
the port of the _Pueblo_, twenty-five miles distant, to this point. As
in all California towns, the houses are built of _adobe_ and are covered
with an asphaltum, which is found in great quantities, issuing from the
ground near the town. The northern portion of the town is laid out in
streets, and appropriated as the residence of the trading citizens,
while the southern part is made up of gardens, vineyards, and orchards.
Through all these a large stream runs, which is used to irrigate the
soil. The vineyards are lovely spots; acres upon acres of ground are
covered with vines, which are trimmed every year, and thus kept about
six feet in height, and in the fall of the year are hanging thick with
clusters of grapes. In addition to these, apples, pears, peaches, plums,
and figs are raised in great abundance. An American, named Wolfskill,
has here a vineyard containing thirty thousand bearing grape-vines, from
which he makes annually a thousand barrels of wine, and two or three
hundred of _aguardiente_, the brandy of the country. Some of this wine
is a very superior article, resembling in its flavour the best Madeira,
while another kind, the _vino tinto_, is execrable stuff. With proper
care and apparatus, however, the grape of the _Pueblo_ could be made to
yield as good wine as any in the world; and the whole plain, twenty-five
miles in extent, reaching to the beach at San Pedro, is susceptible of
the cultivation of the vine.
Until the late astonishing growth of San Francisco, the Pueblo was the
largest town in California, containing about two thousand inhabitants,
who are principally wealthy rancheros, and those who reside there to
cultivate the grape. Game of many kinds abounds in the vicinity of the
Pueblo. During the rainy season, the plains in the direction of San
Pedro are covered with millions of geese and ducks, which are shot by
the dozen, while the surrounding hills afford an abundance of quails,
deer, elk, and antelope.
The inhabitants of the Pueblo are of the better and wealthier class of
Californians, and have always been strongly disposed towards the
institutions of Mexico, and at the time of the conquest of California,
they fought with a determined resistance against the naval forces of
Commodore Stockton. They have now, however, become reconciled to the
institutions of our country, and will, I doubt not, in a few years make
as good a set of democrats as can be found in Missouri or Arkansas. They
are very strongly attached to the Roman Catholic Church, and are
probably the most “religious,” in their acceptation of the term, of any
people in California. Every morning the solemn toll of the church-bell
calls them to mass; at noon it is rung again, and every Poblano at the
sound doffs his sombrero, and remains reverently uncovered in the hot
sun, while the bell reminds him that he is to mutter over a short
prayer. In whatever avocation they may be engaged, whether fiddling,
dancing, singing, slaughtering cattle, or playing billiards or montè,
the custom is invariably followed. I have seen a party in a tavern in
the Pueblo, busily engaged in betting against a montè bank, when the
noonday bell tolled; a fellow, with his last dollar in the world placed
upon a card, immediately doffed his hat and muttered his prayer; the
dealer laid down his cards and did the same, and they continued in their
humble positions till the bell ceased tolling, when the game and the
swearing went on as busily as usual.
About ten miles from Los Angelos, is the mission of San Gabriel, located
upon the river of that name, whose banks for miles are girdled with
grape-vines. This is one of the prettiest spots in California, and
affords a fine opportunity for the raising of fruit. The country around
the Pueblo is by far the most favourable portion of southern California
for the settlement of foreigners. Possessing a climate of unequalled
mildness, and a soil of great fertility, it must inevitably, ere long,
be surrounded by a large population.
SAN DIEGO.
The town of San Diego is the southernmost of Upper California, the
boundary line established by the late treaty running one marine league
south of it. The harbour here, next to that at San Francisco, is the
best on the whole coast, perfectly land-locked, protected from the
gales at all seasons of the year, and the entrance is so narrow that but
one vessel can pass through at the same time. A vessel can lie within a
cable’s length of the beach, which is of hard sand, and upon which no
surf runs. The town itself lies three miles from the beach, is about the
size of Santa Barbara, and is overlooked by an old Mexican fortress. San
Diego has always been the greatest depot for hides upon the coast; the
facilities for taking them from the shore to the vessel being greater
than at any other point. The climate is mild and pleasant, and the town
is rapidly growing, and bids fair to become of great commercial
importance. An immense inland trade will be carried on from this place
with the settlements that must arise on the Colorado and Gila rivers,
and around the head of the Gulf of California. The country in its
immediate vicinity is well adapted for grazing, and abounds in wild
game.