On the 1st of July, 1769--a day forever memorable in the annals of
California--a small party of men, worn out by the fatigues and hardships
of their long and perilous journey from San Fernandez de Villicata,
came in sight of the beautiful Bay of San Diego. They formed the
last division of a tripartite expedition which had for its object the
political and spiritual conquest of the great Northwest coast of the
Pacific; and among their number were Gaspar de Portola, the colonial
governor and military commander of the enterprise; and Father Junipero
Serra, with whose name and achievements the early history of California
is indissolubly bound up.
This expedition was the outcome of a determination on the part of Spain
to occupy and settle the upper of its California provinces, or Alta
California, as it was then called, and thus effectively prevent the more
than possible encroachments of the Russians and the English. Fully alive
to the necessity of immediate and decisive action, Carlos III. had sent
Jose de Galvez out to New Spain, giving him at once large powers
as visitador general of the provinces, and special instructions to
establish military posts at San Diego and Monterey. Galvez was a man of
remarkable zeal, energy, and organizing ability, and after the manner of
his age and church he regarded his undertaking as equally important from
the religious and from the political side. The twofold purpose of his
expedition was, as he himself stated it, "to establish the Catholic
faith among a numerous heathen people, submerged in the obscure darkness
of paganism, and to extend the dominion of the King, our Lord, and
protect this peninsula from the ambitious views of foreign nations."
From the first it was his intention that the Cross and the flag of Spain
should be carried side by side in the task of dominating and colonizing
the new country. Having, therefore, gathered his forces together at
Santa Ana, near La Paz, he sent thence to Loreto, inviting Junipero
Serra, the recently appointed President of the California Missions, to
visit him in his camp. Loreto was a hundred leagues distant; but this
was no obstacle to the religious enthusiast, whose lifelong dream it had
been to bear the faith far and wide among the barbarian peoples of
the Spanish world. He hastened to La Paz, and in the course of a long
interview with Galvez not only promised his hearty co-operation, but
also gave great help in the arrangement of the preliminary details of
the expedition.
In the opportunity thus offered him for the missionary labour in
hitherto unbroken fields, Father Junipero saw a special manifestation
both of the will and of the favour of God. He threw himself into the
work with characteristic ardour and determination, and Galvez quickly
realized that his own efforts were now to be ably seconded by a man who,
by reason of his devotion, courage, and personal magnetism, might well
seem to have been providentially designated for the task which had been
put into his hands.
Miguel Joseph Serra, now known only by his adopted name of Junipero,
which he took out of reverence for the chosen companion of St. Francis,
was a native of the Island of Majorca, where he was born, of humble
folk, in 1713. According to the testimony of his intimate friend and
biographer, Father Francesco Palou, his desires, even during boyhood,
were turned towards the religious life. Before he was seventeen he
entered the Franciscan Order, a regular member of which he became a year
or so later. His favorite reading during his novitiate, Palou tells us,
was in the Lives of the Saints, over which he would pore day after
day with passionate and ever-growing enthusiasm; and from these devout
studies sprang an intense ambition to "imitate the holy and venerable
men" who had given themselves up to the grand work of carrying the
Gospel among gentiles and savages. The missionary idea thus implanted
became the dominant purpose of his life, and neither the astonishing
success of his sermons, nor the applause with which his lectures were
received when he was made professor of theology, sufficed to dampen his
apostolic zeal. Whatever work was given him to do, he did with all
his heart, and with all his might, for such was the man's nature; but
everywhere and always he looked forward to the mission field as his
ultimate career. He was destined, however, to wait many years before his
chance came. At length, in 1749, after making many vain petitions to
be set apart for foreign service, he and Palou were offered places in
a body of priests who, at the urgent request of the College of San
Fernando, in Mexico, were then being sent out as recruits to various
parts of the New World. The hour had come; and in a spirit of gratitude
and joy too deep for words, Junipero Serra set his face towards the far
lands which were henceforth to be his home.
The voyage out was long and trying. In the first stage of it--from
Majorca to Malaga--the dangers and difficulties of seafaring were
varied, if not relieved by strange experiences, of which Palou has
left us a quaint and graphic account. Their vessel was a small English
coaster, in command of a stubborn cross-patch of a captain, who combined
navigation with theology, and whose violent protestations and fondness
for doctrinal dispute allowed his Catholic passengers, during the
fifteen days of their passage, scarcely a minute's peace. His habit was
to declaim chosen texts out of his "greasy old" English Bible, putting
his own interpretation upon them; then, if when challenged by Father
Junipero, who "was well trained in dogmatic theology," he could find
no verse to fit his argument, he would roundly declare that the leaf he
wanted happened to be torn. Such methods are hardly praiseworthy. But
this was not the worst. Sometimes the heat of argument would prove too
much for him, and then, I grieve to say, he would even threaten to pitch
his antagonists overboard, and shape his course for London. However,
despite this unlooked-for danger, Junipero and his companions finally
reached Malaga, whence they proceeded first to Cadiz, and then, after
some delay, to Vera Cruz. The voyage across from Cadiz alone occupied
ninety-nine days, though of these, fifteen were spent at Porto Rico,
where Father Junipero improved the time by establishing a mission.
Hardships were not lacking; for water and food ran short, and the vessel
encountered terrific storms. But "remembering the end for which they had
come," the father "felt no fear", and his own buoyancy did much to keep
up the flagging spirits of those about him. Even when Vera Cruz was
reached, the terrible journey was by no means over, for a hundred
Spanish leagues lay between that port and the City of Mexico. Too
impatient to wait for the animals and wagons which had been promised for
transportation, but which, through some oversight or blunder, had not
yet arrived in Vera Cruz, Junipero set out to cover the distance on
foot. The strain brought on an ulcer in one of his legs, from which he
suffered all the rest of his life; and it is highly probable that he
would have died on the road but for the quite unexpected succor which
came to him more than once in the critical hour. This, according to his
wont, he did not fail to refer directly to the special favour of the
Virgin and St. Joseph.
For nearly nineteen years after his arrival in Mexico, Junipero was
engaged in active missionary work, mainly among the Indians of the
Sierra Gorda, whom he successfully instructed in the first principles
of the Catholic faith and in the simpler arts of peace. Then came his
selection as general head, or president, of the Missions of California,
the charge of which, on the expulsion of the Jesuits, in 1768, had
passed over to the Franciscans. These, thirteen in number, were all in
Lower California, for no attempt had as yet been made to evangelize
the upper province. This, however, the indefatigable apostle was now to
undertake by co-operating with Jose de Galvez in his proposed northwest
expedition [1]. Junipero was now fifty-five years of age, and could look
back upon a career of effort and accomplishment which to any less active
man might well seem to have earned repose for body and mind. Yet great
as his services to church and civilization had been in the past, by far
the most important part of his life-work still lay before him.